1 800 fuck off

i spent the whole weekend with people i love, and i'm beaming about that. i'm also really, really tired and my lower back hurts really badly. i guess i'm too old to run around with ten-year-old girls shrieking like a craze. on saturday, at sam's graduation party, i whined to my grandma about not having an upper lip, to which she responded, "oh, you have one! it's just really thin." nice.

today was my second day at the chocolate factory, and i can still smell the caramel on my hands. i think i'm really going to love that place. there are so many worse things than smelling like caramel apples and melted chocolate.

on sunday, i took clay and sam to best buy and added many movies to my collection. i suddenly felt that i was missing some really spectacular important films, and thus, i bought about seven of them. clay and i stayed up late watching "tommy boy," which is, to this day, one of the most hysterical things i've ever seen.

my back really hurts. i wonder what that is.

some 800 number keeps calling me, at least once a day, and not leaving a message, which is super irritating and makes me want to throttle whoever it is. this has been going on for about two and a half weeks, and you'd think whoever it is would eventually figure out that i'm a) not going to answer their random phone call, and b) not going to call them back. it reminds me of last summer, when i submitted an online application, out of desperation, to be a salesperson, without knowing what i would be selling. when i found out i was going to selling knives, in ventura, i decided against going in for my interview, and some poor secretary called me and left the exact same message for me for about a month before giving up. she must have had a fat list to go through every day, because there is no way she could have willingly or knowingly left so many of the same messages for the same person. sad.