We went to Rive Gauche on Friday, where some drunk boy kept calling me Denise Richards.  Every time I'd bump into him (which was unpleasantly often), he'd stare at me, say "Wow!  Denise Richards", and try to touch me in the process.  Finally, during one of these marvels I took Artur by the hand and said to the boy "And this is my boyfriend".  The boy shook Artur's hand and said to him "Wow!  You're dating Denise Richards!  Congratulations!"  I've been told before that I look like her.  Do I really?

My birthday was nearing, and Artur asked me whether I would like him to buy me a present or go pick it out with him.  "There are several models", he said.  So I started thinking what it could be.  A car?  I need one, but I was pretty sure that's not what he would get me.  A computer?  Seems like an Artur thing, but not as a present!  The only other thing I could think of that would have "models" was a dildo.  Would he really get me that?  Upon questioning him, I was reassured that that's not what I would be getting.  I thought and I thought, day and night, and finally I exclaimed "I know!  You're getting me lingerie, and you're not sure what size I am!"  But I was wrong again.  I gave up.  On Friday, I receive a mysterious call from Artur.  "Wait for me at work," he says, "I have to see you for a couple of minutes and then I'll drive you home and go to the healthclub.  It's important.  It has to do with your birthday."  So I'm thinking "this is some kind of a scam--he's going to take me on a cruise to the Bahamas, and we're leaving right this moment".  So, finally he calls "I'm outside, come out".  I obey, and as I approach the car--I see a big fishtank-like-object on the front seat, and realize that he got me a hamster!!!  I've wanted one for a long time (I had one before, but she died), but wasn't planning on getting one before we'd move into our new house.  I was truly surprised, which was the intended effect.  I still don't understand how the concept of "different models" applies to hamsters.  My hamster's name is Stepa, and he's a cool little critter.  Thank you, Artur

We had a family that just immigrated from Ukraine living with us over winter break--a man, his wife and their 7-year-old son.  New Year's approached and the adults made the boy write a letter to Santa Claus and tell him what he wants, so the boy wrote the following letter (in Russian): "Dear Santa Claus!  I just came from Sevastopol and I have no toys.  All I want for New Year's is a pick-up truck with a remote control."  When the parents saw that they told him to write more just in case Santa would be out of pick-up trucks.  So the boy thought some more about it and added: "If you have one, of course."  For some reason, his parents couldn't find what he wanted so they decided to tell him that the reason he didn't get that present was that Santa couldn't read in Russian, so next year he'd better write in English.  I told this story to my friend Alex (Sasha) and we both agreed that it's a terrible thing to do to a poor boy.  The next day I get a call from Alex--he's at my house with the truck with a remote control and just calling to tell me that he's leaving it by my door.  He even put the batteries inside the box.  It is probably the greatest thing I have ever seen anyone do.  We wrapped it up nicely, and gave it to the boy on New Year's.  He hasn't let go of it since, and now he really believes in Santa Claus.  And so do I. 

Today I went to Grayslake court for a traffic ticket I got on Pauline (be the bitch that gave me it damned for all eternity!).  The courthouse is the size of a very small coffee shop and is located in a strip mall between YMCA and some billiards place!  It's impossible to see from the road, so we had to call them to find that out, moreover, there is no turn into the mall from Belvidere, where it is located, because of massive construction that is going on.  So we had to go back on route 45, which took 10 or 15 minutes and finally found an entrance into the mall.  Of course, when I got there, my case had already been called, but luckily, I had Neal there to help me out, so he asked for the case to be recalled.  Lake County Courts suck!

How I made Sarah my petable pet.

Once, I was sitting at my table, doing my homework; I looked at my fish and expressed a desire to pet him.  "You need a petable pet", my roommate said.  "Ok", I replied, "I'll make you my petable pet."  The thought scared Sarah for some reason and she said it was wrong to make roommates into petable pets.  But I think she'll adjust to her new role rather quickly with my help.  Ok, time to go pet her.

Like, I went to Osco with, like, Lianne, ok?  And I decided, like, to dye my hair, so we, like, picked out this hair color, that, like, said "ash blond" on the box, and was, like, supposed to, like, make my hair not, like orangy and disgusting, but, like, nice and pretty.  So I'm in the bathroom putting this nasty-smelling shit in my hair, knowing that by the time I'm done with this, I will have only half of it left anyway, so I shouldn't be too worried about the color.  Then I see my roots turning orange, I panic.  I'm supposed to keep the color in there for 25 more minutes!  Diane tells me everything's going to be fine, so I listen to her, and wait till the 25 minutes are up.  I go into the shower to wash it off, blow-dry my hair (something I never do!), and it's my normal color!  I'm enraged.  People tell me it's a little lighter, but it's not!  It's got the orange tint to it in some places, but technically, my makeover failed completely!  Now I just have bad hair that smells like bleach.  I think I should go get a tattoo or something.  At least that will show.  Like, whatever.

Even though I had a shitty lottery number, I still got the single that I wanted (because nobody wants to live in my dorm, I guess).  I got here on the first day of the move-in, with all the freshmen, only to discover that my room was missing a mirror and a shelf!  An egocentric person like me cannot live without a mirror!  I went to complain about it to my new RA and was promised that everything would be fixed by the beginning of the week.  Well, it's Thursday, six days later, and I still have no mirror and no shelf.  I'm dropping out of college, it's too much stress