Too many males is a bad thing? Dude, I could have told you that.

You tell yourself it couldn't possibly happen to you. And then a jimmy truck follows you from work. Stops ahead of you and waits in a parking lot for you to walk by. Pine tree air freshener. Tinted windows. I wanted to scream "What the fuck are you looking at?" I was halfway home but there was no way I was going to let this guy follow me all the way. Turned around, ran back to the Lawyer, hoping P or J could give me a ride. The jimmy drove past me again, stopped at the lights. "Go. Go. Go," I kept saying to the truck. Green light, he advances slowly, ahead of me, parks in front of the Lawyer. My lungs are burning from the run. I duck into the bar and wait. They see him parked outside. Then he starts up and slowly drives away, circling the bar once, stops again. Then he leaves. My co-worker just dropped me off. It can happen to me. It can happen to me. It can happen to me. It can happen to anyone. I can now see how people can forget to dial 911. I called my roommates. No answer. The door was unlocked when I got home. I can't sleep.

Pick up line of the week: Has anyone ever told you that you look like my mother?

Hi, how are ya?
Boy do I hate that. The completely unnecessary "howareya" which follows most "Hello"s. They really don't care, so why do they ask? Doesn't even come out as a question anymore. You really don't have to ask me. I have been guilty of saying it on occasion, but most of the time I DO care. Really. When I was in high school, my calculus teacher did that all the time, and he'd be halfway down the hall as I'm responding to his "Howareya." I could have told him I was pregnant with his child and he would never have known. A co-worker of mine does it, to be polite. Damn polite Canadians. Doesn't bother looking away from the computer when she gives me the "Hey, howareya." Every day. She sounds like a robot. So I respond like a robot. "I am well thank you for asking have a good day." Then I zap her with lasers.

Another fabulous weekend in Toronto:

• Got to know my fellow intern P better on the ride in and out of the city.
• Shared cheap and yummy sushi with M&M&B*.
• Fell asleep to Brie purring on my shoudler. Woke up to Annie purring at my side.
• Sat through an ass-numbing 4 1/2 hours of Wagner's Die Walkure.
• Had fancy overpriced brunch (melon and pineapple make my tongue itch!) with M*.
• Took a long G-rated stroll through Kensington with a very cute boy.
• Drank more coffee in a day than I have all week.
• Ran into a friend from the past.

*Note to self: find more girlfriends whose names do not begin with the letter M.

Eric's just set me up with a beta version of Gmail (Thanks!). Looks neat, but I haven't really used it enough to see how much it has to offer. Its interesting features might come in handy if I use this account to send out resumes. That way, I can easily keep track of where my applications are going. Gmail allows each user 1G of storage space -- but in return, I would be allowing Google to scan my messages and then post relevant ads based on keywords in my message.
A Senator in California is not too keen about Gmail. "We think it's an absolute invasion of privacy." Doesn't really matter to me. As long as the ads don't come in pop-up form -- and Google advertising NEVER does. They sit neatly in a column down the right-hand side, so if I don't want to look at them, I don't have to. Can you imagine if a company like Doubleclick came up with a similar service? I'd be too busy closing pop-ups and pop-overs and pop-unders and squinting under flashy banners to get any emailing done.
Google did not pay me to write this. My last entry was just so negative! I figured that ending with something positive might help me sleep better tonight.

Night of the Dine & Dash
I have never understood -- nor will I ever -- understand why people insist on eating/dining in groups of 20 and expect separate bills. Next time, I will stand my ground and say "Separate checks? Sure, if you leave me your ID." School was out for these kids, and I CAN call them kids because they're all born after 1981. It’s great when members of the group trickle in at different times and insist on ordering at different times. Really. I was so busy with this group that another party of three snuck out without paying for their wings and drinks. When the time came to close the big party, I ended up with three bills unaccounted for. There was no fucking way I was going to pay for these three, ON TOP OF the other three who had snuck out earlier. That would have been close to $100 out of my pocket. Jackasses. Takes a real asshole to dine-and-dash. I had given up on the first three, but these three with the big party were NOT going to get away with it, especially since I got barely any tips from the rest of their gang. (Marz, didn’t we JUST discuss mandatory gratuities? Gah.)
None of the remaining party guests wanted to cover for their friends. “They’re probably at the Chili Pepper. We'll go down there and tell them to come back.” Hah.
So off to the Chili Pepper my boss and I went. Found two out of three. Most of the dinner gang was there. They weren't all that cooperative. "It’s not our problem they didn’t pay their bill. So fuck you."
"No, fuck you. That comes out of my pocket."
The first girl was surprised. “Gee, I thought I’d paid!” Right you did.
A friend paid for the absent D&Der.
The third girl saw me and tried to avoid me. When I finally caught up to her through the crowd, she didn’t seem surprised. “Oh. I don’t have any money! Guys? Does anyone want to lend me money?” Unbefuckenlievable. This trip down to the Chili Pepper saved me $70.
It’s not our fucking problem they didn’t pay their bill.
In the end, I took home roughly ten dollars. I didn’t care. I was just glad to get out of there.

I have just found the coolest belt buckle EVER.

When I woke up this morning, I thought to myself, "perhaps I'll find my dream job in Arkansas." I think I just did.

For Marz: Women Sue Hooters Over Alleged Secret Videotaping At Job Interviews. Almost 200 images of nude or semi-nude women trying on Hooters uniforms were seized by the police.
"Some of them may have seen a camera in the room but had no idea it was taping them," plaintiffs' attorney Gloria Allred said.
Poor little Scheana, only 18 years old. All she wanted to do was don a low-cut tank and coochie-cutters. "I'm disgusted just at the way I was violated. . . My privacy was invaded -- without my consent!"
Honey, I'm just disgusted with that shade of lipstick you chose to wear on TV. A message to all the plaintiffs and their attorney: less coverage may mean more tips, but too much makeup will not help you look less cheap.