Oh my gosh. Okay, so I am trying to concentrate on this damn paper I have due, and my roomate calls me, and totally interrupts my train of thought. (I decided to write on Mulholland Dr. by the way). So buddy boy was all cratchified on the phone, because the money my mom sent hadn't arrived yet. Look buddy. I am sorry for the post office being slow, but come on. The electric bill isn't late, and you know your grandfather already paid it, so all you want it money to go shopping. Shit. That shit bothers me. Damn, I can't wait to move out this summer. Only 2 more months. I need to find a roomate.. I think Scott and the French girl and I are all going to move in. I am still looking for a job. Shit. I am about to get an application fro Kinko's that's opening a block away. I want to scream now. OH yes, Jason called me! Exciting. Haven't talked to him in a while. Brad really REALLY wants to move in. Right now I say yes, because that makes rent 266 dollars a month. That's better than what I'm paying now. I don't like Brad though, and where is he going to put his stuff? Where are we going to get furniture? I don't know. It's all stupid.

Shit shit shit. I was having a good day. I don't know.. it seems like it's all turned to crap. I fucking hate money. I want to go to sleep. I am hongry. At least we have food at the house. hah. I want to move out tomorrow. I just might do that. Brad can take my place. See how he can live with Ben. Yeah the fuck right. I am the only soul on earth that can live with that boy. He knows it and I know it. I should stop cursing. I have noticed I curse more online, chatting, and in my blog, than I do in real life. Especially since I moved here. I don't curse. Like at all. It's great. Weird, but great. I cursed in my paper for Development and Pre-Production last night. It was great. I love that class. I can't wait for Asthetics either. I don't know why. My teacher isn't even that hot. Nor is ANYONE in the class. OKay, maybe like 2 guys, but still. It's just a good class. Allright. I am going to go do something to avoid talking to my roomate. I get tired of talking to him when he's been stoned the last 4 out of 5 days. Then he asks me to do him favors. No, not sexual ones. Stupid ones. Like 'could you run and get me a pack of cigarettes while I get ready?' No bitch. Get your own damn cigarettes. I think I am getting to my limit of Ben. I mean he's cool (at times when he wants to be and he's not too much on himself), and he's nice (sometimes), but he pushes it every day.

I figured out Mulholland Drive. I must say I am proud of myself. I have a whole thing about that movie. I'll write it laters though, I am drained. Peace.