09.08.01 - 11:11 a.m.

Blar blar blar. I was hoping to have some good news with which to update, but no. My apartment search is so far extended to Jess's room once she leaves for France, and Rolling Stone is making me crazy. "Early next week" I'll know. What does that mean? Monday? Tuesday? Just tell me if I did or didn't get it and then I can go on with my life. Even though I really want the job, really really want it even thouhg it's all about coordinating others and telephones and not writing, but because it involves Rolling Stone I will want to do it. But if I don't, it will be just another day and I will start from the bottom again.

So. It is weird but good to have your boyfriend come in and kiss you when you're updating, writing through the diary where you guys met and he knows and understands your guilt at having been away from it for a few days. That is love, I suppose. Having him escort your ass all around the city while you do stupid interview stuff and complain about your shoes is also love, but then you put on your red suede pants and take him to your favorite restaurant and feed him pasta and get him drunk all in the name of love too. And then a few days later you fall asleep holding hands on the train.

Whee.