I hate waking up in the morning and hearing Mom gab on the phone to Gramma about useless shit. Gramma calls five or six times in the day just to report some of the stupidest things, and Mom conversely calls her back. I can't stand it. When I am living on my own, I won't be calling my mom every single day, let me tell you that. This morning she was complaining about how I went to go see The Passion of the Christ the other day, then went and rented DVDs last night at work. So big whoopie shit deal--I went to see a movie. Honestly, I think she just gets jealous because she never gets off of her ass to do anything more than clean and buy more groceries. She was telling Gramma about the new job and how it'll be better than the job at the mall in the long run. But she still absolutely hates me going to Rocky Horror every weekend. Well, if I'm generating income, I'm going to be there. It's not like I blow so much money doing this. Cast members get in for free, and it's only five minutes away from the mall--I'm not buring much in gas just to be there. I have a social life. All she does is sit at home and watch stupid court shows and soap operas. And then she's on my ass about the next car insurance payment I have to pay her. I told her to keep her pants on and I'll pay her with my first paycheck from Blockbuster. Sometimes I think she's just so pissed that Dad's bringing in such small paychecks (he needs another job) that to make up for it, she thinks she can just bitch at me for money. Greedy bitch. Why don't she get off her ass and look for a job to help generate some income? I know I did. And don't let the MS stop you--I'm sure she can get a job as a cashier somewhere where all she has to do is stay behind the register and press buttons.

Blockbuster is going okay, so far. I realized who one of my supervisors is--I went to elementary school with Christy; we were in the same class. She remembered me; I remembered her once I got a better look at her. I wasn't close friends with her--she hung out with Dana Freeman and Michelle York and them, and I was pretty good friends with Dana at least, but I really wasn't a staying part of their little clique. *ha ha* Look at me, reminiscing about my childhood twice in one post.

I have to perform tonight. And then there's Cecilia's party afterwards. Good. After being stuck in the house all the last week with my mother (besides The Passion of the Christ), I need out. *writes down on "to do" list: get booze for party...pick up a little something for Cecilia...gas for car...POSTERBOARD!! (I'm going to get started on the "Time Warp" instructions for tonight's show.)

That reminds me...when I threw the idea to both Zero and Chris (Hot Topic Pants Chris...same Chris who tried making a move back in acting class), since they're both playing the Criminologist, they both went for the idea. But Chris tried taking it a step farther and asking him if he could help me with making it. I told him I could do it myself with no real problems, but I think he just wanted a chance to exchange phone numbers. Here's the deal...he's nice and all, but I'm not interested. But if I'm working at the mall and he drops by Spencer's to look around, he always tends to linger around me to chit-chat. A few times, he's hung out outside of the store to wait for me to get off of work, and that kind of creeped me out. (In that case, Erica or whomever I'm working with usually just lets me take the back way out of the store.) So while I'm nice to him, I'm trying to keep my distance. And this is what's worrying me. When he first started to come see the show, I freaked out. Not only is he hanging around my place of employment whenever I'm working, but now he's coming to my one sanctuary, my one place to escape everything--parents, work, Dan, my brother, Lowell in general, you get the idea. And now he's in cast. And Zero--my hero (hey! that rhymes!)--is going on hiatus next month. When Chris first started showing up, he'd help keep some distance between the two of us, but...now I'm going to have to find a way to do this on my own. What's a girl to do?