Everybody says working at fast food joints is horrible. But I already enjoy my job...probably because I haven't been working long enough to hate it, but still. I can't work the grill very well, because I'm a dainty little girl and the grill is the hardest and fastest position, but I'm good with the fryers and everything else. I'm not doing as bad as I thought I would, but it is very fast-paced. I come home smelling like grease though, so now I have to wash my hair every night. But work is great. It's such a wonderful distraction from everything else.
Orientation for my new job today. We watched a 90 minute training video about proper employee hygiene. Yikes. I look like a total dork in my uniform, but whatever. I also had no freaking idea how to fill out that damn tax thingy, so I guessed. I think I did it right. I also spent two hours driving around town looking for work pants. Finding a pair of pants that fit me is almost impossible. But I managed.
Saw my counselor a couple days ago. Told her lots of stuff. It made me feel better about certain things, but we've still got work to do. She always says just the right things to lift my spirits. My counselor says she thinks my dad knows I'm gay, because he talked to her about me over the summer, but he hasn't said anything to me or anyone else. I couldn't care less if he knows or not.
Am I a genetic defect? A flaw in the chain of evolution?
A biological blunder, a scientific oddity?
A freak of nature?
Finally. I have a job. Well, there's a 95% chance I have a job, I should say. I had an interview last week at this fast food place, and the manager really seemed to like me. So the second interview will be a piece of cake. All I gotta do is act as polite and kind as possible and I've got the job. Shouldn't be hard. I'm very polite and amiable around adults. And two of my bowling buddies are working there as well, so at least I won't be alone. I'm really excited, actually. I need a job because I need money, but I also think it'll make me more social and give me more self-confidence.
Somebody was planning to shoot up the school today. Yesterday they found bullets in a kid's backpack and graffiti in the boys' bathroom saying students were going to die. Random students were also getting messed up text messages from the guy who was gonna do it, supposedly. The shooting was supposed to take place at 12:30 today. Kids were panicking, calling their parents and going home early. I'd say at least half of the school went home early before 12:00, including most of my friends.
It was...decent. Two guys asked me to dance with them, and I did. They're my friends and they're awesome, so why not? I'm pretty sure both of them like me. Those poor guys. One of them kept telling me how beautiful I looked and was sweating a lot. They're both really sweet. Too bad I'm a hopeless lesbian.
I thought I was happier. Guess not. I've suffered some setbacks lately. Nothing major, but enough to affect my mood when I'm not in school surrounded by people and I'm just in my room alone with my thoughts. I dunno. Just feeling isolated and doubtful and a bit sad. I know it's just a phase and I'll get over it, but it still sucks just the same. Oh, the many joys of being a teenager.
Anybody ever read The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne? I'm reading that right now for AP English. I'm 20 pages into it and it's really interesting. It is a very wordy book, I must say. I know that wordy is all the rage in classic literature, but god does it give me a headache. I do appreciate how well it's written though. I can't wait to dissect the moral themes and stuff. AP English is the perfect class for me, I swear. Analyzing literature, writing descriptive essays and narratives...it's heaven.
But I'm feeling talkative. So, I realized something odd. I have never raised my voice in anger at another person. In a joking, fake-anger kind of way, yes, I have. But I have never yelled out of genuine anger in my life. Maybe as a toddler, but that doesn't really count. This realization led to another one-- I don't know how to express anger. When somebody does something that upsets me, I don't tell them. I try to deal with it on my own so I don't have to deal with the drama of telling that person how I feel.
I saw my aunt yesterday. I was expecting to see a corpse, but she actually looks fairly healthy. I haven't been to her house in so long, I forgot how beautiful the Illinois countryside is. It's stunning, really. But anyway, we took my aunt out to dinner and she told me that she regrets not getting to know me better. And then she kinda cried a little. And then I felt guilty for some reason, and then I wanted to leave cuz I was getting all sad.
I'm going to visit my aunt, who is suffering from liver cancer, on Labor Day. This sounds awful, but I don't want to go. I don't want to see what she looks like. I don't even know what I would say to her. We've barely spoken and she's rarely shown any interest in my life, just like all of my other relatives on my dad's side. She's never been interested in me. Why should I be interested in her? Why should I care? She's a stranger. Just like my grandma and my aunt and my cousin on my dad's side. None of them know anything about me.
I am having awful luck getting a job. I've been trying since the beginning of summer. No business ever contacts me after I give them my application. Today I turned in applications to 4 different places. One of them might hire me, two of them aren't hiring for the position I want, and the last one, which was hiring for all positions and was my best bet for a job, only hires people over 18. Why? Because employees have to use box cutters. WHAT? What is this nonsense? Do they think I'm gonna shank a customer? Or cut myself opening a box and sue the company?
My friends were making fun of lesbians this morning at school. How disappointing. I expected better from them. I thought they were more mature and not so ignorant, but apparently not. And of course I did the cowardly thing and only said "Come on, guys. Not all lesbians are like that" as a weak protest and then kept my mouth shut.
My mom found my Satanic Bible under my bed recently. And of course I was interrogated as soon as she discovered it. I told her over and over again that I DO NOT want to convert to Satanism, that I'm curious to study the most feared religion in society. She's concerned about my curiosity, but whatever. I was hoping she would trust me more than that. I mean come on. Does she really think I'll be slaughtering the cats and offering their blood as an offering to my Dark Master, Satan? Satanism isn't even about that anyway.