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I had a dream last night where someone left about five really long, anonymous comments on my blog detailing exactly how and why I suck and why I'm a hypocrite, or something like that. Whoever it was started off along the lines of "U think u r so great, but ur really not..." and continued in that vein, using some really long, hyphenated pseudonym, like "X-x-X-soMeONe-wHo-tHinKs-yoU-sUCk-X-x." The person didn't actually type like that the whole time, though, and a lot of it got more coherent as she went along and slipped "out of character" into her natural writing style. I got the feeling that it was someone I knew pretty well, 'cause she seemed to be privy to a lot of inside information, and they seemed to be mocking the way in which I'll leave long-winded comment after long-winded comment to decimate someone's argument.

In the dream, of course, I got all frantic because, as usual, I didn't have time to rebut everything they said on a point-by-point basis, but I was still going to try.

"1. I don't suck..."

Something like that. Then I woke up, checked my email, and found out that I was rejected from yet another university PR job, this time the "reunion intern" program. (Last time it was the peer advisor one.) It was sure nice of them to get back to me when they said they would, i.e. a week ago, when I needed to be able to tell Jon whether the newspaper should reserve housing for me for the weekend of May 15th.

I wonder what the deal is, though. Maybe I'm not believable in my interviews. I do have the whole college-has-beaten-me-down-and-I-hate-and-suspect-everyone thing going on, so maybe they pick up on that. Perhaps they do background checks and won't take someone who's withdrawn from three classes and gotten one F and one incomplete. Perhaps they do background checks and find my blog. Then there's the fact that whenever they ask me if I "love" the university, I have to waffle and say something stupid about taking its faults along with its high points—always something like that, 'cause I'd really be flat-out lying if I acted all bubbly, giggled, and said [sincere Valley girl voice here] "Like, omigod, yeah, like seriously, this is the only place I could see myself being. I just love it here, and I could definitely see myself talking and listening to older alumni...I mean, they just have so much to tell us, you know?" etc. etc.

Yeah...that's just not me in any sense. I may well be too honest for those kinds of jobs—not that I'm more honest than other people, as not everyone has found fault with as many things about the university as I have, but just too disillusioned and not particularly good at hiding my disappointment and disillusionment. I mean, most of the time I choose not to hide it, as I really get tired of putting on the happy face, so to speak, but you'd think I'd be able to do it for a half-hour interview.

[shrugs] I still maintain that they're missing out. When it comes down to it, I'm still good at working my ass off for stuff—I'm just not often inspired to put out that much effort. The only thing I've found here that's really been worthy of that much effort is the newspaper. The student-run theater is sometimes worth the effort, but this year it's taking a whole lot of extra effort at rehearsals trying not to curse out Rosie. Case in point: Last night he was whistling something, so I asked what the music was, and he said, "Oh...that's from Guys and Dolls," whereupon he raised his head real quick, took a calculating look at the rest of the pit orchestra, and pointedly said, "I think everyone in the pit now...besides Eric...was in that show." Yeah, OK—the real point was that I wasn't in that show, either.

What he and most people don't know is that in fact I cried at that show (which no one I was sitting with seemed to pay the slightest bit of attention to), 'cause I was thinking about the fact that I really am out of the loop in music here. "Who the hell is Rosie?" my thoughts screamed, looking at the program. I still didn't know who he was when Brad brought him up at the pit orchestra meeting we had in the music library, though I did know he was in the Guys and Dolls pit (and has apparently been in a lot of other shows over the past however-long), so I hesitantly agreed to sign him on to play with the show. Hesitantly...with trepidation...all those fun terms that mean I was doubtful from the beginning. Oddly enough, he turned out to be an excellent player—and a jerk with a sense of entitlement who's resented me from the beginning for getting "his" book.

Anyway, question of the day: Who was searching for the newspaper on my blog last night? Someone checking up on me? Heh.

- - -
"It was the suit that got me the gig...It was the tear that got me the girl...I'm a sheep in this wolf's clothing, I'm a picture that I'm holding...of someone who is cool."
—Odds, "Someone Who's Cool"

10:55 am, April 19, 2004 :: the jablog years

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