I have a Latino admirer at work. Awkward. I'm becoming a veritable Kyle Vaughn! I think his name is Jesse, although it might be Ramon. (Is it bad that I can't tell them all apart? I'm sorry, but Orlin looks EXACTLY like Francis!)

Cameron leaves tomorrow--therefore, I am sad. I almost don't want to hang out with him today, because I HATE saying goodbye. Especially to him. It's especially bad because by the time he gets back from New York, his family will have already moved to Texas, which means tonight is our last time hanging out in Concord. I'll miss his house.

I continue to consider the possiblity of filing a sexual harrassment lawsuit against my coworkers, as I continue to get calls of "Sexy girl, sexy Becca" from the 45-year-old ladies in the halls and awkward catcalls from the guys my age. I keep overhearing conversations about me. Only half of it is in English. Since when is being white the only requirement for hotness? Why hasn't this been true my whole life?

I've been thinking about my music taste. I like it. I think it's good. I LOVE what I love, and I make no excuses or apologies, but I understand that a lot of people wouldn't agree with me. So I don't show it off or share it with other people. I just let it be. It's just different.

I don't want to date Cameron. I know I don't, and I wouldn't, so I won't. But I want to date someone who knows me the way he does.

Also--why do I pay so much attention to names? I've known this about myself, but why is it true? It's not really a good basis for judgment. I think I just really like letters, so when those letters are arranged in a pleasing manner, wow. I notice.

Work is getting--dare I say it??--better. I'm starting to realize that it IS worthwhile, because the old people love me. I get in trouble when I talk to them for too long, because really I should be working, but it means a lot to them. They're lonely. I used to feel so bad talking instead of working, and I was mortified when my supervisor reprimanded me. But then this cool old guy John's daughter ran into my mom (they've worked together in stake YW) and she told my mom what a big deal it was that John felt like we were friends. It really changed how he felt about living at Aegis. When Mom told her that I got in trouble for talking to him for too long one time, she just said she was glad it happened anyways, because it was worth it, because it made her dad happier. So today, when Lou Lou from St. Louis, who is an absolute riot, was talking to me FOREVER because she gets so bored and lonesome, I thought "SCREW my supervisor, we're here for the old people, not for the toilets" and we had a nice long chat--oh man, she is so funny. AND I got all my work done. So far, I've learned a lot from the residents. The only thing they have left is family. And that's all they talk about. They talk about their children, or their dead spouses, or their parents. Sometimes it's REALLY sad and I have to try to not cry until I get out of the room. So between that and rewatching episodes of Arrested Development over and over, I'm getting the message loud and clear that family is the most important thing.

My experiment to figure out how much sleep is necessary for me to function at work was inconclusive. I mean, I stayed up late last night, and I functioned at work. But does that mean tomorrow will be worse? Am I in sleep debt? Should I go to sleep early tonight to make up for it, or stay up late again so my body can get used to it? My problems are so severe.

I splurged on 3 books at Borders today. I eat so much Cap'n Crunch. I'm starting to like Mini Oreos more than the real thing. I want to skip work tomorrow and go to the aquarium with kindergarten. Today we brainstormed ideas to make that possible, and I think the best was Wesley's idea of shrinking me so my job can't find me. Kelsey even offered to carry me around in her pocket all day. But they're worried that then the baby sharks in the petting zoo section will try to eat me. Dag. I didn't think I'd ever have to worry about baby sharks eating me. Biting me, maybe.

monday=no work=good!

Today was a good day. That hasn't been true in a long time. It was especially good in contrast to what a terrible day yesterday was. Yesterday only ended okay because of Cameron, and today was only good because of Cameron. I'm so lucky to have him--even if it's only for another two weeks.

Now that I'm for sure staying at home for the rest of the summer (sad depressing heartbreaking disappointing), I realize that I have to be happy here. In the last year, I've learned that I'm severely lacking the skill that enables people to make themselves be happy. They talk themselves into it. They can be happy based on mindset and attitude alone. I want to be like that. I know that it's something I have to learn how to do, and I guess now I really will. I'll try, at least. But that doesn't mean I can't try to find outside influences to help me out. I guess I have to rule out sex, drugs, and alcohol. Dang it. That would've been easy. But I could go to the singles ward, reconnect with some people I've forgotten about, and I really need to find something to occupy me at home other than books. Well, maybe that last one isn't true. But once my eyes start to bleed because I read so much, maybe I'll take up a hobby.

When Biz made that mix cd for Katy's trip to Spain, I bet she didn't think that it would eventually sing my soul. But it does. And quite often, too--it's the only thing I listen to these days.

Also, what gives?? The 24 finale left me unsatisfied. And frustrated. And depressed.

Also, Katy knows I have a blog. I'm humiliated. Above all things, I wanted this to be a secret from her. I want the respect of my little sister. But SOMEONE sold me out even though she swore on the life of her unborn child. Christy, you owe me big time for this betrayal. Now that you have a ununborn child--(a born child?)--you better watch yo'self.

I'm in a good mood.

I just wanted to document that.

this is why blogs are a bad idea

This is a bleak bleak BLEAK summer.

With Seth and Justin's powers combined, I'm almost convinced to start going to singles ward. I'm not certain a miracle will happen and friends will appear, but I have to at least try. My freaking comfort zone will have to be breached. I should be feeling optimistic instead of hopeless. Today people called me who I was really excited to talk to--all my freshman year boys are getting off their missions. Today I didn't feel sorry for myself, and instead I was happy. I should try to make that a habit again.

But it's REALLY hard sometimes. I don't have any friends here, I hate being alone, I hate waking up early, I hate working full time, I hate my job, I hate getting dumped, I hate knowing that I'm here for 3 more months, I miss Provo and all my friends. I'm such a freaking hater, and such a baby. But not a baby-hater--that's good right?

I was feeling sad that all my cool new personal progression didn't get a chance to be tested and proven--just now realized that this IS the test and so far I'm sucking at it.

This is so awkward and pathetic. Ok I'm done. Back to my sad music that somehow makes me feel better. I'm so lame.

Today was my first day at work. I am tired, and dreading the morrow. It's not REALLY bad, but who wants to clean for 8 hours? For the most part I'm either on my own, or dealing with old people. Most of them are really sweet. They touch my face and tell me how cute I am--that's totally fine with me. But today they put me in the dementia ward--ahhh scary. Not entirely, but I did get yelled at by some residents who couldn't figure out what I was doing in their room. I hate getting yelled at. It was scary.

Perks:
--Cool uniform. I like how I look. Simple, but professional.
--I'm making bank. I can put myself through college.
--Boosted self esteem. Old people think I'm adorable just because I smile at them.
--Dad's proud of me for having a hard job.
--My evenings are free.
--I'm learning how to wake up early.

Ok, counting my blessings worked, I feel a lot better about it.