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i've been 24 for 10 days now. so far, i've been crying a lot more, so i must deduce that being 24 sucks.

i had a dream last night with Prof. Hottie in a starring role. we were testing each other, in terms of limits of physical contact. it was very interesting. he had this scrap of fabric or something on his pant leg, just above the cuff, and i took it off, and kind of 'dusted' his pant leg, giving myself the excuse to touch his leg a little. later on he also made "accidental" contact, touching my feet, i think, with his or something. i can't remember. all i remember is that i woke up and was desperate to fall back into the dream, but alas, it was stuck on a loop of this minor contact. perhaps my unconcious was being a bastard purposefully and stopping me before things got too hot and heavy, and i saw a wrist or something.

this morning i had some anxiety about this intended "research" that i am supposed to be doing on my trip to poland this fall. huh. i'll be researching all my old haunts, huge mugs of beer, and probably some cigarettes - y'know, regressing. i thought "shit, what am i going to ask of these people? what am i looking for? WHAT AM I DOING???" my appointment with fred did not clear up any of this, as i spent the majority of my time tinkering with his bike (that he had brought in for me to tinker with...i think)

i almost emailed prof. hottie last week, but knew that i didn't have much time so it would be rushed and stupid. perhaps today i can compose something coherent. i don't know what to say, though - "hi, i've seen four movies, and am reading two books at once - both about the warsaw ghetto - just so i'll have things to discuss with you, you, you hot, smart man. i'd like to touch the space behind your ear, if you don't mind. bye! ps - could i also lick your neck?"

i mean, REALLY.

the reason i was crying was, surprisingly enough, not prof. Hottie related, but work-related. it's too stupid and ridiculous to even go into, but i think it's solved and there will be no more crying on my part. goddddammit. i once vowed that i would never have a job that i would cry over, or about, especially if i wasn't making at least $10/hour and if i didn't have benefits and shit like that. but there i was, in the bathroom, crying, thinking "allergies - just tell people it's your allergies!" in the same manner as i told the owner that it was "a headache - a really bad headache." but he'd best be knowin' that he was making me cry like the mean, mean (cheap) man that he is.

oh! today i can go and pick up my Big Fat Independent Research paper. did i mention that i actually got an A-? i actually got an A-. and when i emailed the prof to ask when i could pick it up, he said "congratulations on a good paper." yeee-fucking-har. maybe i can get away with this act, after all.

well, i have to come up with something to ask those very very very professional people in poland, first. can't count my pierogies before they're fried.