Who do I sue?

5 hours later and I'm still burning mad.

I was in my Photo class today (you guessed -- 5 hours ago!) and I'd just finished developing a roll of film. I saw my supervisor Paul and I went up to him to go say hi. Before I'd even gotten a chance to open my mouth, he told me that my application still hadn't been processed and he didn't know what was going on with it, and that I should go find out what's wrong.

DEJA VU! The exact same thing happened last Friday, and I went in Monday morning and got some vague answer from the people in the office about my application not being lost, but probably being processed, so move along, whiny white boy.

I'm being taken advantage of at this point, and I'm ready to quit, which is kinda funny considering how I still haven't been offically hired.

You see, the guy that runs the lab, Paul, has us, the lab techs, work the first two weeks under what he calls training because it'll take the school those two weeks to process our applications. I think it's the fingerprinting thing that makes it take so long. Anyway, for those two weeks he'll pay us out of his own pocket.

Well, now we're on the verge of week 5 and as luck would have it only my application has been held up, and no one seems to know why. Everybody's giving me the run-around and I haven't been paid one fucking dime yet.

Someone's going to get punched in the throat. Seriously.

Ok, ok, think rationally. Here's what I'll do: contrary to what my gut is telling me ("Punch a motherfucker, John!"), I'll work my Monday morning shift and after that's done, I'll go to the Financial Aid office to find out what's the fucking problem, and this time I want some REAL answers.

And if I don't have something concrete, I'll tell my supervisor that, while I'm not quitting, I'm not working any more shifts till this is all worked out, so he'd better find someone to take over my shifts.

Ugh. This isn't satisfying in the least. I really want to punch somebody.

My splitting headache.

I have a headache of monstrous proportions right now. All I can think of is the story of Zeus having such a headache that he used an axe on himself to relieve the pressure and Athena sprung forth. It's very similar. Ouchie.

So things are going well. I'm working my ass off for no money. I'm goofing off in Boptany class when I should be paying attention. My lab partners are partially to blame. We keep each other amused, like when I noticed that the large rubber band holding my sketch pad in place broke, I cried out, "Aw, my rubber broke!" And it wasn't until after that left my mouth that I realized what I said, and we were all laughing like crazy. Good times. Utterly immature, but still good times.

I'm in rut, musically speaking. I'm so tired of what I have and I'm in the mood for something new. Any suggestions. I'm listening to the new Ben Kweller album, and so far, so good. It's definitely something that could grow on me. Like a killer fungus.

My splitting headache.

I have a headache of monstrous proportions right now. All I can think of is the story of Zeus having such a headache that he used an axe on himself to relieve the pressure and Athena sprung forth. It's very similar. Ouchie.

So things are going well. I'm working my ass off for no money. I'm goofing off in Boptany class when I should be paying attention. My lab partners are partially to blame. We keep each other amused, like when I noticed that the large rubber band holding my sketch pad in place broke, I cried out, "Aw, my rubber broke!" And it wasn't until after that left my mouth that I realized what I said, and we were all laughing like crazy. Good times. Utterly immature, but still good times.

I'm in rut, musically speaking. I'm so tired of what I have and I'm in the mood for something new. Any suggestions. I'm listening to the new Ben Kweller album, and so far, so good. It's definitely something that could grow on me. Like a killer fungus. Yay.

I'm not anorexic; I'm just broke.

I just spent 13 consecutive hours on campus, and I went the entire time without one morsel of food. You have no idea how many times I was on the verge of snatching someone's chips and making a run for it. Stolen food tastes better, too.

I'm tired and hungry. But most of all, I'm angry that I missed today's Oprah. It sounded like a good one!

I'm pathetic and I'm OK with it.

Clarity.

I don't know why meeting guys is so hard for me. It's like I produce a chemical repellent or something. Girls, on the other hand, flock to me like crazy. (There's some inverse relationship going on there and it's TERRIFYING.)

Today, for instance I tried striking up a conversation with a cute boy from my Botany and Anthro class. I know he's gay and in my mind that means we'd automatically click and live happily ever after with our matching chocolate labradours. Something along those lines, I guess.

I went pretty easy on him. I went the small talk route, asking about what he thought of the Botany quiz and other small talk type things. It was like pulling teeth. Nothing but clipped answers, and at one point he even turned his face AWAY from me while I was in mid-sentence.

Right after, class began and my brain went into overdrive. I questioned every angle of the situation wondering what I did wrong. Did I have a booger hanging from my nose? I bet there was, and I bet it was huge and gooey and it winked at him. Also, who talks about quizzes, John? He thinks I'm boring. God, I'm so boring!

But then my brain eventually made it's way back to reality, and it dawned on me: he's a dick and I'm far too nice a person to waste any more time on him.

That's progress...I hope.

Botany Bores Boy.

Botany. You deceptive bitch. I took you because I thought it was one of the less overwhelming science classes. I mean, flowers and plants. What's so difficult about that?

And then it started. Words like "monoculture", "covalent reactions", and "organelle" got thrown about and my brain shut down.

Botany, you are boring me to death. I have a Sex, Gender, and Culture anthropology class and we discuss things like sexual assymmetry and types of intersexuality, and, today in fact, my professor told us about a culture in New Guinea that cuts off the finger joints of little girls to appease the ghosts of dead relatives. CHOPPED FINGERS, for Christ's sake! You can't top that, Botany; you just can't compete.

Ok, Botany, let's make a deal. You stop being boring and I'll start paying attention. Please do it soon. I really want to pass this class.

(I have a Botany test tomorrow and I am so thoroughly screwed. And I'm talking gay porn gangbanged type of screwed. Eww.)

Setting the bar low, oh so very low.

Guess who has a job in their college's Photo Department? No, not George Clooney, you boob. ME!

There are a whole bunch of reasons why I should have passed on the position as a photo lab assistant - the low pay, getting fucked over on all the good shifts, and the smell that begins to permeate your clothes after spending so much time in the dark room. Seriously, you spend the rest of the day smelling like farts, and no amount of "I didn't do it!" looks will appease the cringing masses. I'm on the verge of hurling the old standby, "You smelt it, you dealt it,"

But - this is a big but - I get to use the lab whenever it's empty of other classes for whatever photo pet projects I might have, no questions asked. And this, my dears, is perfect because I'm already the slowest person when it comes to developing prints in my Black and White photo class, as evidenced by this past Friday's class. My professor spent the last 5 minutes of class giving me the Evil Eye while everyone was outside on their break before the lecture portion of class. So there I am, rushing to clean up my area, and he's continuing to tsk, tsk me., and telling me to be quicker. Like, NO SHIT. WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT!? Bless you, kind sir, for parting with that nugget of wisdom. God, I hate people.

So after that demeaning spectacle, I refuse to be this photo class' resident fuck-up.

Well, maybe the doofus, but certainly not the fuck-up.

I almost forgot...

It's Los Angeles's 225th birthday!

Happy Birthday, you dirty old whore, you.

I love you, flaws and all, and I don't care who knows.

Holy water cannot help you now.

After the whirlwind that had been my first week back at school, this weekend has allowed me to relax and decompress. I honestly thought I was going to faint at some point this week. Not exactly the picture of manliness, but holy hell, was I exhausted.

Friday was my final class of the week, the only class that I had been actively fearing: Black and White photography. The moment we were given the tour of the dark room, however, everything seemed to click. All the fears and tension and exhaustion that I'd been faced dealing with earlier in the week were washed away in an instant. This is where I'm supposed to be, I thought to myself. It's restored something inside of me, a drive, a passion, that had been quieted long ago.

I'm a possessed man now. But at least I have a purpose.