Let me fill in the blanks for some of you. What the Ian situation boils down to, basically, is that he stopped making any effort to see me or talk to me. This could be for any one of a number of reasons-- he's running away from his feelings, he was just using me, he got bored, he's got emotional problems, he met someone else, whatever, what have you, it's not important. I'm tired of trying to figure it out. Like you guys keep reminding me, I deserve better.

I think I was blinded by sheer animal attraction and didn't notice this was happening all along. Such is life. I'll recover.

The other thing that happened is that Laurie had a death in the family two days ago. Which is not my story to tell, so I'm not going to tell it. It has affected me a lot, though. Makes me feel helpless, makes me think of the fragility of life, makes me want to hold the people I love even closer. It's a tragedy, and you don't easily bounce back from tragedy.

Also tonight, Joey and I said goodbye to our friend Hannah, who is moving to New York. Joey has been much closer to Hannah than I have; I think it was harder for her than it was for me. By the time we were saying goodbye, I felt so drained already from all this other stuff that I didn't feel very sad. Or maybe it just didn't seem so horrible-- I mean, we'll see her again. We'll keep in touch. It'll be okay.

(If it was Joey moving away, I'd feel very differently of course. But as much as I care about Hannah, we hardly spent any time together this semester, and I just don't feel the loss as deeply as a result. If that sounds bitchy, I'm sorry. I'm too drained for anything other than honesty at the mo.)

In a way I admire Hannah for picking up and moving to New York. It seemed to happen so quickly. Even though she's been here for ten years, she decided to leave, and just like that, she's gone. In my job search quest, I've been peeking at teaching positions all over the country. Knowing that I could pick up and go anywhere is quite liberating, really. It makes me think that maybe the universe has its reasons for not giving me a relationship right now.

(Oh god, I sound totally Berkeley, don't I? Somebody come smack me in the forehead, please.)

Anyway, there's something immensely appealing about the idea of uprooting myself. I've always had this vague notion that I would start my teaching career at a tiny college in the middle of the Midwest somewhere, entirely divorced from everything I've ever known. Why this sounds attractive to me, I have no idea.

Looking through those listings gives me hope in another way, too. There actually are teaching jobs out there. Most of them require a masters degree plus teaching experience. Yes! I have teaching experience! If nothing else, attending my tiny little school did give me that great opportunity to design and teach my own course. In the cutthroat world of applying for teaching jobs, this will help me, I'm certain.

Oh yeah, and I'll have a masters degree soon. That might help, too. Tiny little detail.

What else is there? Like I said, I am so very, very tired. I've had a low-grade headache for two days now and I don't think I slept very well last night. (Sometimes I get these meta-flashes where I feel very "Dear diary," like why the hell would anyone care about my sleep patterns, anyway? And then I think of all the journals I like to read where I get intensely involved in people's sleep patterns and other totally mundane stuff. So I feel better.)

I have to say that I'm still so sad about Cassie. One year ago, I was on vacation while she was slowly dying without me. That breaks my heart all over again. It's the fact that she suffered that really hurts me. I still feel guilty because I know I could have prevented it. I know there's so much I could have done differently. This is still something I can't talk about, but it's there, in the back of my mind. This thing I can't forgive myself for.

Amidst all the doom and gloom, good things have been happening around here. Melissa is getting married tomorrow, and her happiness puts a smile on my face. She's going to live happily ever after, I feel it in my bones.

I've been riding my bike regularly again, which feels fantastic. I'm waiting for my eating habits to fall in line with the new regime. Right now, my body seems to think that "cookies" are the new regime. My jeans still fit me, but I'd prefer if it wasn't such a close call.

I've got an exciting new writing project getting underway, a collaboration with an artist who is a reader of this very journal. I think we're going to keep it on the downlow for now, until we are ready to unveil our project, which will revolutionize the world of art, or at least be nifty, I hope. It's all very incipient at this stage, but it's exciting to plant a seed.

My job hunt continues. I'm having fun applying for a wide swath of jobs. I have a lot of varied experience-- writing, editing, proofreading, teaching, customer service, cash handling, sales, marketing, office management, graphic design, and on and on.

It feels good to be able to investigate jobs along a broad spectrum, and I've found lots of things I think I'd be good at. I've been good at all my jobs, I think.

Oh, I got paid today, which is good, but it was $100 less than I was expecting, which is bad. My week of vacation is what killed the paycheck; I don't know how I miscalculated, but I did. The sucky thing is that I already had this paycheck earmarked for various bills. Now I have to go through and whittle $100 away from my budget.

Speaking of bills, sort of, I had to call and cancel credit protector today. (I signed up for the 30 day free trial because they gave me a check for $15 and I needed it.) I fucking hate those credit protector telemarketers. I could not get this guy to stop trying to sell me credit protector. At one point I got very honest and said, "Look, I am sick and tired of being harassed by credit protection people! Even if I wanted credit protection, I would never sign up for it at this point, just out of spite."

It's true, too. Every single time you call to get your balance, they pitch the damn credit protector. I get mailing after mailing after mailing, and telemarketers calling me up the ass. I am so tired of the hard sell. And this guy was giving me the hard sell. "If you don't mind my asking, why not? Well I hear what you're saying, but..."

I am not one to get mean, but I told him I resented the fact that he was wasting my time, because I AM NOT GOING TO SIGN UP FOR CREDIT PROTECTOR. I think I am going to get that tattooed on my forehead. Or start canceling my credit cards so I don't have to hear the spiel ever again.

Speaking of credit cards, my most recent statement has a bunch of chapbook-related charges. I need to get off my ass and work on more copies of the chapbook so I can finally start sending them out into the world. (I gave Ghost Stories to the artist so he can finish his illustrations. Did I ever tell you how incredible they are? They are truly incredible. Wait until you see them.) I hate to besmirch the whole Art thing with the issue of money, but I need to try and recoup some of those costs. Chapbooks are expensive to make. Forgive me in advance for charging for them at all.

Can you tell that this entry is a brain purge so I can sleep? I just realized that's what it is. And after a quick review of my synapses, I think that's all I have to say right now. Goodnight, moon. Goodnight, parakeets. Goodnight, readers, wherever you are.

"Cassie can never, will never be replaced. She was my friend, in the way that only the most special animal can be. I loved her as much as it is possible for a person to love a bird. Which, although it may seem silly to some people, is a lot."