Were I an old lady with no tits and a voice like Rip Torn's from years of smoking, and a laugh that sounds like a bullfrog croaking, I would not get my hair cut that short. I would cling desperately to the last remnant of my femininity. And I would be nicer to the girl at the coffee shop, especially since she still has her teeth on the bottom row.

So S and I have had two bouts of I-done-went-and-hurt-her-stupid-pride-because-I'm-right since I last updated, I think. The first, we were supposed to hang out and she blew me off, so I sent her a text saying "Boy howdy, that sure was some girls' day. We simply must do it again" and turned off my phone. She took me off her MySpace top 8 for that and didn't talk to me for a good long while. Then when she called me next, it was to tell me that she got a new phone number and that we should hang out. Ever-forgiving, I said okay. I went to the place of the guy whose couch she's living on to talk or whatever. Typical to her, she realizes that her boyfriend is somewhere other than with her, freaks out, starts agonizing over where he is, and gets on the phone to bitch him out. She then goes outside with the phone and a cigarette, mutters "two minutes" while holding up two fingers, and leaves me in her mooch-partment with the guy who actually lives there and his cat, who is knocked up for like the seventieth time.

I feel really bad for mooch-partment guy, because for the first 20 minutes of her departure, I got to listen to him rant about how she (and her boyfriend. They've both been living there for over a month) haven't contributed money toward rent, groceries, or pot while continuing to live, eat, and smoke there. The cat was very sweet, but refused to eat any of the chicken from the sandwich I brought with me. I don't think she liked dijon.

For the last 10 minutes, before I got fed up, I watched part of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Then I got fed up, left, and found her sitting outside on her car, still on the phone. "Hiiiiii _____," she said, in the high pitched voice she uses to greet people and put them off their guard or anger or whatever. I told her, "that was cool," and got in my car and left. Later I wrote her a MySpace message about getting her shit together and stopping her treating of people like shit. I regret this, however, mostly because B told me when it comes to her I'm the female version of her ex-boyfriend. I wish instead I'd written nothing and vowed to forget her existence. It's too late for that, though. She's read the note, and I'm thinking she's just taking time to brood before she responds.

I am in panic mode over an entirely different subject. I have, for the past week, been talking on the phone with a recruiter for (big bank-o-rama's call center job) and had my interview with a for-realsies supervisor person yesterday. I learned nothing apart from, "We'll call you when we want to make an offer." What does this mean!? The training class starts in 8 days. My roommate, G, has applied for the same job and has his interview today. If they tell him he's hired, I'm going to lose it. Why? 'Cause I told my boss at the coffee shop that I might need to disappear real soon. I offered to wait for the next training class, which is in May, but she told me to just go ahead, and that she'd hire a newbie right away. So now we have a zillion applicants and no real evidence that I'm going to be able to quit when the time comes for one of them to get hired. This is NOT FAIR to the coffee shop applicants, and the (big bank-o-rama's call center job)'s application and hiring process is excruciating.

B says I'm being pessimistic and that I'm hired. Oh how I wish I could believe that.