> Nine Inch Nails - Closer
> Glenn Miller Orchestra - Sing, Sing, Sing

We did end up going to the beach, but Naiya and Autumn followed us. It wasn’t so bad, there was this ugly hairy shirtless guy…I just wanted to go up to him and say “Honey, no. Put your shirt back on. Nobody wants to see that.” I climbed up on that big rock thingy again too, it is totally cool. It’s so high up you can see so far, it’s so beautiful. Samantha was there when we came back, we talked for a bit, then I saw Molly. She’d had to let her class out early because it was so incredibly hot. On our way to the Drift office she told me what had happened at the meeting and now on top of everything Antonio seems to be. I was very pleased. We worked on our pages for a little bit until class started at 7. We watched the video version of The Important of Being Earnest, it was okay. I wish I was in the financial state to be a Bunburyist. But, I suppose, leading two lives would be an incredible bore. I can’t seem to keep up with the one that I’ve got. I’m so tired, I’m going to try to go to sleep early so I can get up tomorrow and work on my essay. Molly told me that she gave the whole class an extension until Monday (to my delight).

Saturday is D-Day for that essay. I really need to read the story first though. I have to mull it around in my brain for a while before I can decide what I’m going to write on. I have to transform it into neurotransmitters before I can turn it back to words. That’s what I’ll do tomorrow. I will pick a story and take notes on it. That’s my goal for tomorrow. I’m glad I got my play analysis worksheet done, so with this turn of events my only hell is going to be work tomorrow. I was so pissed that I incredibly hastily finished up my work and left. I’m sure Mike will have some sort of “talk” with me tomorrow. I think that I’m just going to smile and nod. There’s no use talking to him. Talking to Mike is like trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. It’s pointless. Mike is totally ignorant about anything computer-related (basically every function of the news room is computerized) and a bad editor because of it. He’s one of those people that are afraid of technology.

I admire Molly’s stand on technology. She’s basically, “I’m smart and I can figure it out.” Which is true. Computers are basically complicated adding machines. They operate logically. Logic is universal. Mike’s stand on technology is that he’s fearful of it but tries to look like he knows everything about it because he thinks that he’s supposed to. He fakes every other aspect of his job, this facet of his approach to the paper is a perfect reflection of the gestalt of his “managing style.” I use that term very loosely.

I’m off to bed.

It’s really hot today and I really wanted to go to the beach, but no. Tawna is content to sit in the student loung and bullshit with those idiots. Whatever.

I had the shittiest day I’ve had in months today. I missed class, then I got to work and didn’t remember the Drift meeting. At about 1:00, this thing came on the scanner about this big fire at some trailer park and there was no one in the news room, so I was all OMG I should run down there! The phrase they used on the scanner was “engulfed in flames.” May I reiterate: no one in the news room. So I immediately grabbed the camera and drove as fast as I could over to the fire. There was nothing really going on, but there were people and ambulances and everything so I tried to take a picture. Nothing. The battery was dead (thanks for charging it, Matt M.) and as I later found out, the memory card hadn’t been put back in it either. Dejected and pissed off, I made my way back to the news room. Mike was all “did you get some photos?” and I was all “Somebody didn’t charge the battery, so I couldn’t get anything.” He was talking to me in this condiscending tone, the way you’d talk to a small child who’d stolen a gummy worm at the supermarket. I got so pissed.

“Matt’s out there right now, is there another battery?”
“Yes.”
“Well could you take it to him?”

Fuck that, I thought. But I put on my happy mask and then angrily drove all the way back there (with my gas, I get no mileage). I was incredibly pissed off. I tried to help them out and maybe get a front page photo of this trailer which was supposedly “engulfed in flames” and he treats me like a little kid who’s done something wrong. I volunteered my time and energy to run out there as fast as I could to get this photo and he tells me with his body language:

“Arthur…you really need to stop thinking that you’re as good as Matt Mais with his sixth-grade education. Since you’re only 18 you just can’t master the intricate complexities of turning the dial on the camera to “on” and pushing the motherfucking button. You really just need to stay in your place and stop thinking that you’re as smart or talented as me. I know everything about the digital camera. I’m actually a photographer, here, let me show you my master’s degree in photography. You are just a little boy that we allow to work here so you can do the things that us of titanic intelligence and magnificent computer knowledge tire of doing. Like typing. You can type, but that’s just all that you’re good for. You’re really almost mentally retarted. You’re probably so dumb and talentless that you probably can’t even understand what I’m saying so I’m going to stop now. You really need to be a team player.”

Never again. I don’t care if the fucking Triplicate office is burning down. I don’t care if a chasm to hell has opened in the break room. I’m not touching the motherfucking camera ever again. And that’s that. I know he’s going to team split with the Matts saying something to the effect of: “You know Arthur, he just…gets excited. I’m going to have a talk with him.” He’s totally going to deny that he told me that if something was happening and there was nobody around to go take a photo to go do it. Tomorrow he’ll sit down in front fo my desk and say that I shouldn’t take photos any more. And I will reply. “Sure, I won’t ever try to be helpful again. Thanks for informing me of my lack of talent and complete vacuum of photography experience.” Like he can ever take a motherfucking photo.

> L7 - Pretend We’re Dead

I finished my play response worksheet, but now I have to go to work so I can’t work on my essay. I’ll try to work on it after I get off work. The work never ends! :(

I set my alarm for the wrong time and ended up sleeping in until 10 a.m. But I guess this is perfect since in English we were just going over our essays…and it would have been quite pointless for me to have shown up without even an outline. So I’m going to work on my schoolwork (my essay and my play analysis worksheet) until twelve and then I’m going to go to work.

I really want to insult both people I’m talking to. I want to tell Taggart that he’s inept at finding guys because he’s tactless and has no friends and tell Tawna that all this talk about relationships is boring me to death and that I’ve hashed all this over and it all just never gets better and I’ll still love Taggart and he won’t give a shit, just another guy on a long list of guys who I loved and they never cared about me and nobody ever will and I’ll never find anyone and die alone, and not just alone, but really really fat with lots of ugly cats who will never love me either and will shit all over the place and I’ll have to clean it up. And I’ll cry myself to sleep every night and eventually die in some pointless way. I’ll get hit by a car walking to the bank and I’ll have no insurance so they’ll just take out my IV and I’ll die. God I am in the foulest of the foul mood. It’s the I hate guys because they never love me and nobody will ever love me and men just make me cry mood. Fuck it. I’m going to bed. Why do I always meet these emotionally unavailable people? Wtf? Am I just cursed or something? I’ve got to get out of this place.