Application and cover letter to Kinsey, check and check.
It went a-little sumthin’ like, like, a-like this:

Dear K.I.,

I need a job. I gots da qualifikashunz.
And I like sex.

Love,
Jenn XOXOXO

More than anything it would be fun to come home at Christmas time to say to my entire family, “Yeah, I live with my boyfriend — in sin! – and work for THE institute in sex research.”
This is “black sheep” for the typical Catholic family.
Shock me, shock me, shock me with that deviant behavior!

In other news, I went the Tom Petty concert last week…

(us. Verizon Wireless Music Center.)

Tom Petty is so old, guys.  But he’s so good.
I had a good time, depite the fact that I felt I was by myself, because Damon was a Grumpy Gus, which I can say because this is MY forum and he cannot defend himself, so I am obviously right.  Last year’s Tom Petty experience was pretty much untoppable.  I had the Homecoming Mentality and this was not unlike the dreaded Matchbox 20 concert of ‘99, except that I didn’t get dumped two days later…

…The Theme Du Jour seems to be this:
Step One: Sad, sad, sad..I feel so sad.  The man has got me down.
Two: FUCK THIS! Drink, drink, drink.
Three: Yay! Dance, dance, dance.  Things are okay, at least for this moment.
Four: Why the fuck, fuck, fuck won’t you dance, dance, dance? Goddammit.
Five: Sad, sad, sad…I just want to have fun and escape this whole damn thing and no one gets it.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

In conclusion, I am
a) bi-polar
b) an alcoholic**
c) an excellent candidate for a comic strip character

** While I was waiting for Damon to finish up with an install at work last night, I mixed Captain Morgan into my Polar Pop and got delightfully toasted in the Best Buy parking lot while I read A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. Tuesday night, people.