9 hours at work + 1 hour at least each way + waking up an hour early to get ready + preparing lunch and wardrobe the night before = more than half the day spent on a job. + the time spent debilitated from the eye strain caused at work = I wanna go back to school.

At 6:30 in the morning it's really dark. And clouds up here are lazy, they have figured out the most efficient way to deposit rain on us: become fog and let us come to the rain. I couldn't figure out why I couldn't see, and then I turned on the windshield-wipers.

It says document specialist on the position. People who have strange hobbies (I really just don't know why they want them) ask for records of ownership (I think) from the past, and I have to get it for them. Post-1988, fine, fabulous, anything for you pal. Pre-1988, microfiche mania, hence the eye-strain. Free tip: don't try to read the articles when they are moving.

Bringing some perscription strength stuff tomorrow, though I didn't hurt too bad today until I started to drive home. If I can't cope by Friday, I'm going to have to call it a day.

Laugh no longer. I start tomorrow at 8.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGG
GGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Food that I can't live without: graham crackers, avocado

The best snack food: toasted cinnamon raisin bread with butter, baby carrots

When you're cold: hot water without tea, blow drying your hair

Two is the magic number (though it is the loneliest since the number one)

I always think things in my head (hey, good place for that, no?) and then I think, "hey, that'd be good to share on my blog," and then I get all ready to go, but it's gone (Hey Ellie, does that remind you of that birthday card again?). I think there's something about the illumination from the screen affecting my brain. It's either that, or I have pre-Alzheimer's like Bush, and I'd like to assume the first, thank you very much (ha, got the spelling on one, except for the ei. What good is that stupid rhyme?).

More on the lack of time definition. I was at the store today and this family came in, and I was thinking, "hey, shouldn't all those kids be in school?" Oh so sad.

Even sadder is that I'm stopping myself from buying things. Oh cruel cruel world!

Happy October. Dude, time is flying by. It's weird not to have anything by which to reflect the passing of time (can't end in a preposition now). For as long as forever, I've counted down the days until summer break, marked each year by my grade, just toiled through to some ending in the vague future that I never believed would ever arrive.

It disgusts me that I've forgotten so much French and Japanese. I've been close to fluent in both and now... At least school provides some incentive. Now the only incentive is food. Ha! food... not nearly as persuasive as grades.

You mean, people can read this thing??

Today I bought the unabridged diary of Sylvia Plath. Hopefully I won't identify too much.

So I kinda wanted to learn how to sketch. Unfortunately, I don't think I should be starting anything no career related.

Dude, remind me not to read everyone's blogs before I start my own. Now I'm trying to remember what the heck I was going to blog about...oh yeah.

I finally found my focus, the thing I will deprive myself of until I get my act together. Furniture. At least, I'll try to deprive myself. I wouldn't let myself buy a $50 table-type thing today, but I ended up getting a $10 Firkin/basket. Hey, I don't know what a Firkin/basket is either, but it's kinda cute, and it was marked down from $40. It's a wooden basket, but it was legs so it's like a stool, and it has a handle so you can carry it around like a purse. Hey, it was cheap. Did I mention that all the things I have to keep depriving myself of are from antique stores? I have a serious weakness for old things in different styles. Once I actually get money, it's going to be a struggle not to spend it all on old wooden things that cost thousands of dollars and are too big to fit anywhere. So that is my happy news.

Crazy news: I may have to avoid anyone in my extended family. I got a whole speech on how I should look for government work, maybe in the post office or at the prison, today. Federal pays better than County which pays better than State, just in case you were wondering. Can anyone think of a quicker way of dying than to get a government job?? I can't. Oh yeah, and the prison is fine, but you should avoid working in the Welfare Office apparently. Everyone is either on their way into or just getting out of prison...so, I just kinda spaced off at that point.

So now that the Big Move has fallen through, I have nothing to be working toward. I'm not saving up for any special future, there are no CDs that I'm dying to have. Now I have a sniffle that was an evil cold, and I'm using it as an excuse to not take the dog for a walk. What else will I use it to not do?

I got an email from SUA asking permission to use my Capstone as an example to show the current seniors. I wanted to say no, because, well, mine is boring and longwinded and I could probably write something better in my sleep (which brings up the question, well then, why didn't I?). But I figured that it's time to move on, and if viewing my horrible writing gives someone else the boost of confidence needed, then it's all to the good. I think my Capstone could have been something slightly interesting had we had the criteria that the news guys got.

So a) Blogger has decided that I am just not good enough to view it or to create a post, and b) I have suddenly developed an aversion to the internet. If I get on at all, it's just to check my email real quick and jump off. I think I'm afraid that I'll get sucked in and spend my life online.

News: I finally got a car. Okay, well, my dad got a car and I get to drive it. Hey, I picked it out and paid some of the down-payment, and some day I'll take over payments. So I'm figuring this will help me two-fold. 1) (thought I'd switch to numeration) now I have a way to get to some sort of vague future job-type place, and 2) I'll have to get a job so that I can pay for gas. The familia is still not putting a whole lot of pressure on me. You know, sometimes you just want some pressure, not understanding!

My brother got a girl for a roommate and my familia (the same as above, not the father-type) is all freaked out about it. The father who is not included in the above blanket statement is just glad that she's paying some rent. After he got back from New Zealand, he was hanging out here for a few days, but then she called and told him to come back. Hehe, and she's making him get a job. Which is interesting because, as far as I know, they're not sleeping together or anything like that.

I figured out that if I curl just the little chuck on not-quite-bang above my right eye, I can just fake the rest and it still looks okay. Hey, anything that makes my life easier is news.

I'm going to pay William to cut off my head. I'm dying of sinus pain anyway, so I figure this would benefit us both: quick and mostly painless for me and fun for him. Anyone wanna donate to the Jessica Euthanasia Fund? I figure it's going to cost a lot if he's going to go to jail for helping me out.

It's really sad to me that apparently none of us who have stayed in the country have much to blog about. At least, that's why I'm not particularly in the mood, and I'm projecting onto everyone else.

The rain announced itself loud a clear today. It's friend wind howled it's agreement. I think poor mister sun is hiding under a rock somewhere.

As Sammi once did for a friend lost to technology, I shall share with you all the happenings of our dear lost Ann, whom you may not have known was completely lost.

Upon arriving in Tokyo to begin her career as a JET, our illustrious heroine immediately and tragically come across a must-have pair of shoes. Known to sell her own soul for a part of brand-name, semi-cute shoes, our heroine does so. Instantly remorseful and filled with the dread assurance that she will never in her life wear the adequate foot-coverings, she sets about gathering the money to buy her soul back. Never once does it occur to her to take back the shoes.

Ann's first get-rich-quick scheme calls for her to sell small boxes of tissue on the city streets, having direct knowledge that all Japanese people depend on such extravagance. Unfortunately for her, she has forgotten that others, many others, will give small packages of tissues for free. Which is slightly ironic because where do you think she got her stock in the first place? After killing, maiming, or otherwise disposing of 759 of the free tissue-giving cads, she must admit to herself that there are just too many of them and she will have to come up with another brilliant plan.

By this time, the evil-hearted JETs have given our poor helpless Ann up for lost and moved on. Yes, the JETs moved on, all except for one hardy soul with an interest in Ann's safety...

Moving quickly on from her tissue fiasco, Ann next opens a school for young Japanese children to learn Japanese. She figures that her small stature will help ingraciate her with the young ones, enabling her to teach better than other, possibly better qualified, but un-Soka educated teachers. Again, our slightly slow friend has out-smarted herself. While there may be much demand for those with fluent Japanese, she has forgotten that, as the country of the languages birth, most children are spoken to in Japanese from their birth. Also confounding her logic, having spent too long abroad, Ann has forgotten that many people in the land of her ancestors are as small in stature as she is, indeed, some even smaller. These smaller people, according to reasoning stated above, must be even better than our Ann at relating to the children in question. Immediately realizing the folly in attempting to assassinate every single teacher, Ann gives up her dream of teaching Japanese to the Japanese children. And she forgot that children scare her.

At this time, having failed to locate Ann or even confirm that she still lives, even stalwart Allison is forced to admit that Ann is lost to all. However, if any of her family ever found out that a JET had gone missing, they would surely force her to return home to teach the undisciplined and barbarian children of her land of birth. Unwilling and slightly nauseous at the thought, Allison concocts a plan to fool everyone into believing that Ann had a slight computer glitch and is even now settling in at her new job. Hacking in to Ann's blogger account proves easy enough, after all, the password proves to be a truth that all know, jessicasthequeen. After leaving a trail of Ann like messages, she must convince the others that they should expect to word for a while. After all, she can't be expected to continually update both their blogs. Easy enough, there are forever festivals and conferences that she must attend, why not Ann? And so Ann's true friends, the only ones who can rescue her from her shopping-induced danger, and made complaisant about her lack of news.

Meanwhile, having no more ideas about how to make a quick buck and regain possession of her soul, Ann enters a prostitution ring.

Tune in tomorrow, or next week, or whenever I feel like continuing the tale of drama and intrigue, and maybe I'll throw in some true love and a few yakuza.

Why am I forever dreading Mondays??? Oh yeah, I remember.

Okay, the Middle East branch of the family is gone. And with them goes a good chunk of my excuse for not having a job. And it's already the middle of August. Oh well, I was thinking I may become a superhero, or a schoolbus driver. I saw Sky High today, and I think that would be pretty cool. Just have to find some toxic waste to dump myself in.

Ha, I already saw the marching penguin's Hollywood debut. It was pretty cute, but no Winged Migration. Though I do have to say, watching what the poor fluffies go through to procreate, I will NOT be one in my next life. And having to trust the men and all.

Why does Andy's little brother look like a cross between Andy and Koji? Maybe it's just the picture, but I swear he looks like Koji's little brother What's-his-name.

Anyway, now about ME!! The real reason you're here! Hahahaha. Okay I'll make my evil side quiet down now.

We took a family girl trip to Winthrop, a little tourist trap/town in northern central WA. It's just slightly on the east side of the mountains, still west enough to be really pretty. (A look how Bellingham is on the little map! Isn't that just wonderful!!) We stayed in a cabin by the river, but of course we only went to the river for about ten minutes and spent more time playing with the sprinkler than with the river, though two people did manage to fall in within that short period of time. They have a bunch of artsy shops with a lot of hand-made stuff so over priced only the rich and crazy can buy anything. I bought two things.

It's supposed to take four hours to get there. I think it took us eight both ways. There was so much construction we were about to murder people. On the way there, it wasn't so bad, the eight hours were from stopping and looking at the prettiness, but on the way back we were stopped by a flagger for almost an hour. AND most of us had to go to the bathroom at the time. Talk about torture. You could see everyone getting all fidgety in their cars. But the funny part is, some of our largest laughing attacks happened while waiting. At one, my aunt took the keys out of the ignition while we waited, and then when it was time to go, she couldn't find the keys. I thought we were going to be killed by the cars behind us, but she found them in time.

So the point of this rampage is really to relate that we found a campsite remarkable like the places we went in the Redwoods. It was really nice and treeful by a creek. The only difference was that the fallen trees in the Redwoods were slightly bigger and more ubiquitous, but...eh. So Washington really is the coolest state ever and no one can convince me otherwise. Oh yeah, at there's this cute little supposedly rabbit-like creature that lives in the mountains called a pika. So beat that!

I've spent the last handful of days house-, horse-, and dog-sitting, and I have decided a few things. Firstly, dogs are evil and the bane of my existence. I did not get one full-night of sleep the whole time because first the stupid fluffy dog wouldn't sleep upstairs without his owners and then he wanted to go out at 1 in the morning. Then he wouldn't come back in. I was worried because they specified that he sleeps inside and upstairs, and he's an old dog, so I would get up every once in a while and see if he wanted in again. Which he never did. Then he wanted breakfast at 6 in the morning, and so did the horses. Fortunately, I wasn't in charge of feeding the horses breakfast and could lay around in bed until *gasp* 6:30 before I went out and helped with the watering and cleaning.

Secondly, no matter that they wake up too early, I'm all for having horses as pets. It's the best of the dog and cat worlds. They're pretty friendly when they get to know you, but not overly annoying and clingy like the previously mentioned bane. And they're so cute!! I don't want to ride them, just keep them around. We were taking care of six horses and I got to know about four of them pretty well. There's this one old one who I was having a little friendly fight with. He gets special food that the others like, so we had to isolate him, and then he didn't want to go back. We didn't put any halter or bridle on them for breakfast, whatever those things are. So I'd push and push and push, and he'd just look and me and wander off like I wasn't putting my whole weight on him. And he let me pet his ears, which the other ones don't like at all. Once he got in a fight with one of the dogs because he wanted to eat her food, or at least knock it over.

Korina was telling me about their little hierarchy too. They all respect Danny, the old one, because he's old, and let him have the first pick of the food. And then next is a girl-horse named Bella. When the others try to mess with her, Korina says she grrrrs at them. I haven't heard the literal growling, but it's certainly apparent when someone's not pleased with someone else. The big ones are kept mostly separate from the rest, but even they respect the little old pony Danny.

Once I read a story with this old lady who had a pony who was like her dog and would come in the house and everything. Maybe that'd be a bit messy, but I wonder if I could train one. It's all about the cute horses now, who needs a dog or cat for a pet!