I am a moron. We'll just get that one out right now for the sake of honesty.

I got sent home from work today. On my first day, after about 20 minutes. Why, you ask? Because I don't have a Social Security card in my possession. The boss (who will be called K for the time being) thought that I could have a photocopied one and it would be okay, but according to the paperwork lady, this was absolutely NOT, I must see a legal document RIGHT NOW or we can't hire you today.

And I didn't have it.

No, I haven't had to have my actual SS card for anything before. Not to attend this school, not to work at this school for a day (something I did a few years ago) for a temporary position, not at the newspaper, nowheres. It's kept at my mommy's house in case I do something stupid and lose it, which, let's face it, I most likely would. I lose paperwork all the damn time. I already lost my other copy of my birth certificate that I had made a few years ago, that I had to whine and wheedle the ex into hauling me to Martinez to get made. I can't keep track of anything, even when I put it nicely in a folder specifically intended for that purpose of saving things. Tax time makes me wanna cry.

Hill thinks I am an utter moron for not having the card. "My mom gave mine to me at 18 and said you're in charge of it. Why on earth don't you have yours? I've had to show mine to EVERYBODY." Yes, thanks, rub it in. I just got home as she was leaving the house, so I got the lecture again.

Mom thinks I am an utter moron. She claims she told me she could drive down and give me the card during the weekend. I seriously do not remember her saying that. Now she's going to drive up and give it to me tonight, and she's pissed that she has to do that because her plans are ruined. Not that I'm not grateful, 'cause I am, but I feel so shamed. So very, very shamed. K was nice about the whole thing, and I made an appointment with paperwork lady to do it at 8 a.m. tomorrow, but still. I'm already the second choice and making trouble too? Eeep, I suck. I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck.

(Huh. So when I was walking home, why on earth did I start thinking about how I kinda wanted to call David to tell him what a moron I was (Yeah, brilliant move, Jen, goes with all your other ones this morning), even though I know he's at work and all at the moment, and how convenient it might be to have a cell phone so I could do that sort of thing and get free mobile-to-mobile like Hill has? I hate cell phones! What's wrong with me?)

I did find out that despite nobody mentioning it to me, the job requires using Excel. No w I know why I wasn't hired the first time.

Apparently it's not only me that's had a bad non-work day. Hill's best friend Kendra recently (a) graduated, (b) got engaged, and (c) got a fat job offer, all in the same month or so. Today was supposed to be her first day of work- and she got fired. Why? Because her mother had to resign from the company due to conflict of interest, and they were so mad about that they canned Kendra. That sucks so bad for her. At least she hadn't found an apartment in that town yet, though.

I woke up earlier than I needed to this morning to try to call unemployment to ask what the hell I'm supposed to do now. Would you believe that on Monday morning at 8 a.m., WHEN THE PHONE LINES OPEN, they had already taken their full allotment of callers? How the hell am I supposed to get off unemployment or whatever if I can't talk to anyone and can't contact anyone any other way? Geez.

To add to the fun, I ended up permanently staining and ruining (a) my favorite cream-colored jeans and (b) my favorite white satin pajamas. I could cry. I can manage pantswise without the cream, but if I'm likely to be spending weekends out of town more, I needed something to wear to bed in public besides my scroungiest sweats. So instead of working I went to go look for nightclothes.

There is ONE store in this town that sells nightclothes. (Okay, there's a tiny department store here, but the clothes in it are just plain ugly.) Unfortunately, they sell EXPENSIVE nightclothes. They seemed to only have three kinds of fabric: flannel, hippieesque cotton and silk. As in, 'we had these shipped in from Thailand' clothes. My shopping options were (a) flannel pajamas, (b) muumuus, (c) slinky little silk and cotton camisole tops WITHOUT matching bottoms, (d) slinky little silk camisole tops with embarrassingly skimpy bottoms, (e) various not very pretty at all cotton nighties and slips, (f) waaaaay too see-through nighties, and (g) long silk nightgowns that cost a fortune. I finally ended up with a long black one (flashes more top than I want to, but dammit, there were NO pajamas) that was the cheapest I could find, and they had a 10 percent off sale, but I still ended up paying over $70. Gack. I miss Mervyn's and stores like that here so badly.

I had a weird thought yesterday while we were in the car forfuckingever: the idea of introducing David to the chat crowd. Hell, the place is filling up with couples anyway, I'm on there more than I am AIM and stuff like that, and they'd probably like him. Until it occurred to me that this would also require introducing him to 3WA, where I have all kinds of weird posts about, say, the ex, or um, anything in the Sex section (actually, I haven't posted in that much and most of the bad things have been deleted by now and um, it's not like he couldn't exactly ask or anything, but still), or the fact that he could find thishere journal from there. I wouldn't mind the stuff on 3WA too much, and at the moment I was thinking "Well, what's so bad about showing him the journal?" Until I remembered the last time I had an online journal and a boyfriend at the same time. I'd been gushing about him in said journal on like, every single page, and I'd posted all his cute little e-mails and stuff like that� until I was reading the newsgroup that we met on and he said something about how utterly wrong it was to post someone's e-mail online. I was a newbie to the net and had no idea. Oh. Shit. Then later on I made a dumbass mistake on IRC, which led him to finding my journal. Fortunately, he didn't read it because I yelled at him not to (and yes, he actually didn't).

But after I remembered this, I thought "Okay, I'd better not. You never know why it might not be a good idea to do so." At any rate, he's got no access at home, so this turned out to not be an issue in the slightest. But still, it is a slight bummer to think that now I kinda have something to hide. I don't know WHY I think this when nobody I know IRL that isn't already a journaler knows I have a journal, not even Demma and Anna, who knew about my old one and read it, so technically I'm already hiding it. I don't know if I'll tell anyone about it this time. I keep hearing stories from people about how they'd like to bitch about their SO's but he might read it, or how their mother in law found it and went berzerk. So maybe not. Back when I had the previous journal, I wrote entries during the day when I didn't have classes and he was at work or on weekends when he was out of town, so the ex didn't see them. Now it should be even easier, since I'll only see him on weekends.

(Am I so jumping ahead of myself here, or what?)

That said, I had a little "Eeep!" moment last night when I idly went looking for the home page of the vampire group (it's pretty dull) and my entry on going to it was like the fourth entry that came up in Google. I think it showed up ABOVE the actual webpage I was looking for. So then I thought "Maybe I should go back and alter that entry and take the name of the town out!" Until I realized that the words "vampire" and "Modesto" are probably gonna show up in entries from time to time now, and they're kinda hard words to avoid using. So fuck it. Nobody's probably going to go do a search on that besides me anyway.

Though he did make some comment about possibly using my computer to check e-mail, and now I just thought "Crap, what if he like, types something into the box that starts with an F, and then fullmoon.diaryland.com immediately pops up into the location box, and he goes "What's that?" and clicks�

Oh brother. I need to get off of this thought train. And like, go learn Excel or something useful like that. But BOY, do I not want to read that book. At all. I'm on page 16 and bored stiff.

The Diarist Award nominations are up, and I'm pleased to see that three of my nominees made it! Woo! JayElias for best new journal and rant, and Byrne for guest entry. And while the other folks I nominated weren't picked for the specific entries I sent in, most of them got nominated for something else. And 3WA folks aplenty made it in. Yay Elph and Jette and Muffet and Stee and default! (Go check the link there and read 'em, silly.)

This nominated entry made me feel all mushy. Reminded me of Saturday quite a bit, between the tall thing and the comment about being gorgeous when that's not her personal opinion of herself.

"If this person truly thinks I'm some kind of ravishing beauty, so be it. I think he secretly smokes crack. He thinks I just like being difficult about it.

(The truth is, I think he's gorgeous too. And he thinks I'm smoking crack, too.)"

Oh yeah.

Mom and Dad came by here tonight to give me the card, take me to dinner and bring up my Valentine's presents. I got a Lego watch (yes, I'm six), an astrology-themed puzzle and a new skirt. Yay presents!

I then came in and had just settled down on the couch to watch Angel when David called from D&S's, where they were doing some heavy brainstorming about the vampire game. Basically, it was along the lines of "let's form a big old family of Malkavians (crazies) and take over." Yes, I would er, be inducted into the clan. Anyway, they just kept coming up with more and more things. Shit, some people should start writing books with these plots. Anyway, he had good news and bad- the good being that he was probably going to get a job with a hardware store by the end of the week, the bad being that they were being evicted and having to move in with snoopy-ass grandparents. Oh well, at least decent job = quicker route to getting an apartment (though getting one that will take his dog could be interesting�) In other amusing news, a coworker called in a bomb threat to the building, so they all went home early. That cracks me up. Scott and Demma are going to drop him off on Friday (unfortunately, they want to do this around 3 p.m., and I suspect I shall be at work then�) and pick him up on the way back from Liverbore Sunday.

Whoo-ee!

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