good four-tune.

just really short: my interview on monday will be with four people. at the same time! yikes. one of them is the director of legal hiring. oh please, Lord. please. cross your fingers, cross your hearts, friends. and not the bra kind, either. oh no. not that kind.

blip.

i have to already tell myself that posting right now is probably most definitely a bad idea, because i feel pretty cranky and bitter right now, but i'll just go ahead and blame it on the meds later.

i'm getting better, by the way, so i shouldn't complain and bring it up every five seconds. so there.

what i mean to say is "bitter," because i'm a little sick and tired of some things. like always being the one who calls. and of saying things. that never seems to resonate, does it? no matter how much we all talk or not talk (for hours), things never change very much, now do they? we are still liars. even to the people we supposedly love and care about. we cling very tightly to the image of ourselves we've created over the years, and if we lose a few here and there by telling them the truth, it doesn't matter because we're still that way to everybody else. the rest are just collateral damage, right? i suppose so.

i feel like i've tried to unify all the different versions of myself over the past couple years, i've tried to rope together, bind together, the images of myself people have of me, and make it into one, honest person. i'm still a liar, sometimes, and a good one even (it takes practice), but i've tried. and i feel like that doesn't mean anything to me right now. it feels like a lot of meaningless work, trying to be one person with a lot of facets, sometimes conflicting, rather than doing a lot of catch-up and clean-up, working hard to keep the ugliest parts of me a secret. maybe that's the way to do it instead, and i've been doing a lot of bullshit work trying to be something else.

it's hard for me to not feel sick and tired at the moment, because even though i'm getting a lot better physically (i say, like it was some horrible disease), i'm still hoping to move and move away, and not just to another state or place but just away from everybody. i'm tired of the usual problems that never get fixed, and that nobody acknowledges except in these short bursts followed by uncomfortable silences, and the usual jokes, and the rest of the drama we all have going on. all the strained undertones we pretend we don't hear.

i'm even tired of hoping for another city with some old and new people, because i feel like it won't happen at all, it'll just fade into something i'll say wasn't best or safe, which sounds worn out in my head even as i say it.

i hate feeling like this, and even writing it down, because there's not much to say, really, in response. it feels ugly and it sounds ugly, and regardless of anything else, it'll just pass with barely a blip on the radar.

get me an ear trumpet, strumpet!

you may have noticed i have published volumes of this year's training manual, there to the right. i figured that i could either tell you what i thought about these volumes, or you could just read and see for yourself. let's face it: most of the time, you really just want to know what someone's reading rather than pages of meaningless commentary on it. meaningless only if you haven't read the book. commentary because i have the nasty habit of ruining books. soooo, here we go. if you want to know more about something i'm reading or have read, just let me know and i'll post about it. promise. prom promise.

oh! i should probably just clarify: the training manual for this year is comprised of books i have either read or am currently reading for 2006. i hope to have many volumes. i do indeed.

the only other news is that i am sick, with a terrible ear infection (the right, of course, the only one i can really hear out of), but i have three different kinds of medicine (including codine!) so i should be getting better soon. i hope.

i want to see the figure skating this weekend.

a race race race against time and space

everybody loves an auction.

i'm sitting in a coffeeshopish sort of place using a computer that is all white and oh, the coffeeshopish place is called cherry street. the man behind the counter is extremely friendly and actually carries it off as sincere and nice, and made me want to tip him a lot more than i normally would because of it. i like him. i also like the girl behind, in the back, who has a platinum blonde bob and is wearing a red flower in her hair. i like them both.

hurry! there's only 14 percent left of the battery! and a half-hour left of the meter! quick!

lyndsey tea-turr, if you want to have a baby, you just go on with your bad self. your bad womb. and by bad, i do not mean rotten, like rotten comma johnny, i mean bad ass like charles bronson. work the f-tubes, girl. that's what they're there for.

i, on the other hand, am not interested in having a baby right now, nor in five years. maybe by then i'll start thinking more seriously about it rather than just looking at the clothes in the gap for the little boys and going awww, mom look without getting distracted in about point oh-two seconds by the fifty dollar sweaters i want.

someday.

11%!

tonight is the pee-la auction! i'm going to have wine and beer and free food (free by which i mean fitty bux, but only because i'm a law student. only thing that shit ever got me, i'll tell you what) and see some auction action and then stay in a room at the W hotel (where the auction is a-happenin) and hang out with ralph and carol and bob and michele. not necessarily in that order.

in other news, i can't stop playing animal crossing: wild world, which is a video game for the nintendo ds and is sort of made for kids? kind of? except not? i sort of don't understand why i can't stop playing it, but if it's wrong i don't want to be right.

is it a sin to drink lemonade in a coffeeshop in seattle?

this is the last time i am going to be here for a long time. i mean it this time, promise. after i get home from this trip, i don't get a real vacation until after i take the fucking bar. i'm trying out some new names, some pet names, if you will, for sitting for the bar exam. "fucking bar" is one of them. you can vote at the end of the month.

now, meter!

250,000 bouncy balls.

well, have to be short. average, i mean. no, short. definitely short this time. but two things:

first, i have another job at another prosecutors office. another juvenile court, even! doing the same thing i am at summit county. can you imagine? this one is called "stark county prosecutors office," and i'm working there mondays and tuesday afternoon after my work at summit is done. i'm a sucker for punishment.

second, see this please. it's a nice couple minutes.

dear gigantic monster

dear starbucks.

hi. i never go to you, and this is why: out of some vague notion of support for the little guy. an understanding of trade practices that could fit inside one of those tiny latte spoons i get at bellino. the thought that if i had my own coffeeshop, i would get to spend all day with people i love, and therefore hate you for threatening those days.

except.

you finally did it. you researched my life. did you get a sample of my dna, unwittingly? a tiny pinprick at the prosecutors office when i reached for yet another file that was useless to me except when i make all my notations on the front of the file out of a desire to 1) remember what the hell happened and 2) cover my ass in the event that we get a repeat performance of the "intern from hell" opera that was last semester? a swab of spit from one of the conference tables, especially that time i had to tell fatdad that this conversation is over, and i'm two seconds and one more "this is bullshit" from calling one of two baliffs that tell me about their planned trips to ireland and show me pictures of their children and will break your ugly, ugly face and make it look like an assault on me, and therefore send you to jail? not that i don't love my job, because let me tell you, deploying armed guards in any time period is fucking awesome. truth. justice. american way.

but you did, didn't you starbucks? you finally made me love you. and you made me love you for the cinnamon on top of the whipped cream. the slight sweetness under the coffee. the....the......i actually looked at the packaging and admired it, for God's sake. all of your cinnamon dolce latte goodness. what have you done?

you have won.

yours,
catherine loya. we don't need the m, you and i.