2002-02-15 - 7:53 p.m.

i can't even begin to explain what a weird evening i've just had, and it's not even over.

my brother's girlfriend said she had an interview at the local barbizon, so i told her i'd go with her and not say anything and then later translate for her. it turns out it wasn't an interview at all but an AUDITION. (whoa, barb, are you reading this? your poor sister.)

anyhoo, the "contestants" (who probably had no idea what they were in for) had to stand at a podium and talk about whatever they wanted. subject matter wasn't important, the talent scout - esther - said, because personality and character matter over looks. then each person had to walk down the runway while esther critiqued them and gave them tips on poise.

then came the big speech that probably sounded like, "yes, i can be a model!" to everyone in there but me. i only heard, "here's how we're going to suck your bank account dry first, and then second, we're going to..." esther made it sound like anybody with a winning personality could me a model. the basic business idea is that they make you go through barbizon school before they send you out on any jobs. and we all know barbizon school is not free.

i am not kidding when i say they have their own barbizon line of makeup for sale. so fake!

i came home to a dark house and one very traumatized dog. buddy can be quite squeamish (we think he might have been abused before he decided to live here). today, however, was not his favorite day. he spent 5+ hours getting washed and groomed, and the dog is NEKKID. i mean, no hair. my parents left for the weekend as soon as they picked him up, so the scene was bad when i got home. the house was very dark, and he was barking and shivering. he also pooped in the hallway.

i figure the only remedy for a traumatized dog is to stay home, order a pizza and watch a steve martin movie. maybe that should be my remedy for everything.

let's hope it doesn't hurt to chew the pizza. i am sick of mushy food already.