*Addendum below!

My last day on Buffy.

Last week, I worked from Friday at 2pm to Saturday at 5:30am.

Anyone else need an explanation as to why I�m leaving?

Resumes keep coming in for the position, though they�ve hired someone already. Everyone who wants to be in television seems to have graduated from college with a 3.5 GPA. Including me.

As the roommate was out of town this weekend, and as I don�t know a soul in this city, I was forced to entertain myself. I woke up late Saturday, recovering not from drunken debauchery but a 16 hour work day. I then proceeded to do absolutely nothing but sit, lie prone, break Jonny�s VCR, and check my email.

Later that night I ate take out from a nearby (ten miles away is nearby in Los Angeles) Italian restaurant. On a pal�s recommendation, I ordered the �garlic balls,� which are just as disgusting as they sound. Once I got the bag into my car, my tear ducts flowed and my sinuses were cleared by the powerfully overwhelming garliciousness.

What�s with me and garlic?

And it�s a good thing I was alone that weekend, because the garlic stayed with me even after three tooth brushings and two heavy duty Listerine powered mouthwashings, I was not fit for any human interaction involving lips, tongues, or direct line of sight communication.

Laundry was also completed.

The next day, I woke up, enjoyed coffee, enjoyed donuts, and thus, enjoyed existence. I went up to the valley to pick my mail up at my old apartment, and then proceeded into Hollywood where I intended to purchase massive amounts of cheap old used clothes. I only found one thrift store, but I managed to get three shirts for a measley eight bucks. I saw a great pair of jeans which were exactly similar to my most favorite pair for twenty bucks, which I did not purchase.

But I did use the fact they were there to confirm to myself that I am, indeed, fabulous.

From there, I drove over to a little roadside shack on Pico that claimed to have the best used Levi�s in town. This claim will continue unverified for now, as it was closed. After that, I parked at the beach, took a long walk up to the promenade, and escaped with a fresh squeezed lemonade and a CD.

Lovely day, really.

And I did it all by myself. I�m a big boy.

Speaking of lovely, I�m going home to Chicago over labor day weekend to visit Sally. We�ve been talking a lot lately, and I am greatly looking forward to this. Our plan, essentially, is to not leave her bed for three days.

Coffee, chocolate, and three days of waking up next to my ex-girlfriend type person.

Perfecto.

*Go here and enter the name of your page. Apparently, MSN is writing summaries of our diaries! Flippy!

Mine says 'Chicago resident writes about life and trying to find something witty to say in his daily diary.'

I write about trying to find something witty to say?

"August 14th, 2002: Bad day so far. I have been trying in vain to find something witty to say in my diary. I fear I must continue this futile search for yet another day. I must be witty! I must!"