10/2/01, 6:37 p.m. ~ I've taken to calling them "my kids." Or, when people laugh at that, "my children." This is all a shortened version of "the kids that I tutor," but that isn't right either, because they're not kids at all. They're only a year younger than I am. And even though I am telling them things they don't know about their homework (I only have this info since Kate tells me), even though I feel so jaded because they're all trying to carry out long-distance relationships and I know those never work (or maybe I just suck at them), these "kids" are still my peers.

But, oh, it's so wonderful! It's like I suddenly have 18 new friends! And I didn't even have to go to all the trouble of making these friends, and they're all but required to hang out with me, and I even get paid!!!

10/4/01, 6:20 p.m. ~ The class is just five guys, no teacher, and all five of them are absolutely adorable, and I wonder why I'm the only one who has to be naked. But then I think how much easier that would make it for them to gang rape me, and I'm pretty sure I would mind that no matter how adorable they are. Not that it would happen; all five of these guys, when talking to me, look directly at my face. Unlike some people who like to converse with my tits, expecting maybe that they'll talk back?

By the way, my foot is seriously asleep from sitting in that cross-legged position for so long. We're talking Rip Van Winkle here.

10/5/01, 5:28 a.m. ~ I've never talked in my sleep before. Until tonight. I was dreaming, it doesn't matter what about - having some sort of an argument with one of my dad's (faceless) friends about coaching micro-soccer, and he was trying to make me memorize pro football teams. He lightly tapped my chest to make a point, and I shouted, "And don't you dare touch my breasts!" Only I didn't just shout it in the dream; I distinctly remember lifting my head off the pillow and yelling it to high heaven just as I was waking up.

Ordinarily, I would be incredibly proud for having talked in my sleep, especially considering how long I've been listening to my friends' nocturnal outbursts ("Yes! There's Mexican food in the world!"), wondering when I would do the same. But the combination of paper-thin dorm walls and what I said... Not good. I'm terrified that people are gonna bust in here to make sure I'm not getting raped or something. But (luckily, tragically) no one has yet, so I think I'm safe to go back to sleep... assuming I keep my big mouth shut!

11:17 a.m. ~ I had to go see Anne (The Boss Lady) about changing my work percentage. I am working more than anyone expected! Anne says this is great for Kate, great for me, great for the students... and she'll do as much as she can about the money thing. Technically, I'm only allowed to work 50% (up to 19 hours/week) because I am a student, so she has to call the art department to make sure my percentage there is pretty low (which it should be). And I can't get paid for going to class, which I already knew. I tell her I am going anyway. Every day. I want to. Suddenly I feel like a huge overachiever.

Anne also has a newborn baby, Felix, who has been sleeping all morning and is just gorgeous. He's adopted. Obviously. Neither Anne nor Robyn has been pregnant recently.

12:57 p.m. ~ Every time I see a red minivan, I want to hop into the front seat and listen to my mom ramble on about things I couldn't care less about, as she so often does. But none of the red minivans I see in Santa Barbara contain my mom...