Yesterday Ray called me again. Left a message. Hopes I'm happy. Hopes I find what I'm looking for. Sounded angry and gruff.

There's a kind of satisfaction that I'm not proud of that I get from hearing him say he hopes I find what I'm looking for. Because I know it's already too late for him but there's still hope for me. I feel bad for him. Part of me still misses him a little. But mostly I don't. I need to stand on my own.

Went out last night. I wasn't wearing my glasses so dudes were on me like wild on rice. All the tall, leggy blondes must have been busy. God, I am still so shy I don't know what the fuck to do when that happens. Good thing there's booze.

Tonight at work silverballs asked me to explain to him again what it means to superman a ho. I know he remembered. He just likes it when I talk dirty because I have no problem with it.

I'm hungry as fuck. Think I'll make some soup and crackers.