Dear Diary,
I have noticed that applying for jobs has turned me into a middle schooler again. Remember when you were 13 and you liked a boy, and every little thing the boy did you overanalyzed? "oh my god, does that mean he likes me? he dropped his pen, i picked it up, he said thanks... he loves me. we are getting married, he's 5'7'' and plays soccer and we're perfect together." It's like that with jobs. Send out a resume, get a brief reply via voicemail or e-mail, then you start analyzing. Do you think they say "we have reviewed your credentials" to everyone to just the people they like and are going to hire?! Do you think "Let's talk about whether this is a good fit for you" means let's interview, or "i will blabber to you about this job." probably both. You know what, I don't even want a job that bad. I could just become an e-bay power seller or something. I like assembling parcels; I think it would be a good fit.
Love,
Diana

Dear Diary,
Last night I found myself at a private party in a bar in Lake Oswego with a bunch of parents. The boy was offered a gig taking pictures of the night, and he got to bring a date, me. There was an open bar and tiny burgers so obviously I went. This was a western themed evening complete with an electric bull and line dancing, and a lot of moms wearing expensive jeans and cowboy boots. I really enjoyed myself- it was interesting to be a fly on the wall observing what exactly affluent parents consider to be a good time. I suppose I wasn't just a fly on the wall, I did participate in the bull-riding, line dancing, and tequila. The whole evening was reassuring- you can be a parent and still go to raging parties. It certainly helps if you make enough money to rent out bars for entire evenings and completely deck them out for theme parties though.
Love,
Diana