The Independent Study is officially okayed! After all that hooplah, Annette Barbier finally gave me a permission number. I did most of the talking (I mean, bullshitting) and she seemed genuinely jazzed about the project, much more so than I would've imagined.

Things are bright and swimming, except for Evanston Living. It's a little strange being directly involved in such an awfully terrible situation as Di and I are finding ourselves to be-- turns out our "contract" with Evanston Living was um, false. Yes, that's right, false. The guy who talked to Di and negotiated the residence contract just got fired-- apparently he completely lied to us about rent and bills and all these other details, which means we have to pay all this other stuff we had no idea bout. We are considering to throw an "Evanston: F-ck You" protest rally, parade perhaps. I guess this is what the "real world" is all about, money, lies, and inept organizations. I'm really still shocked by this, and am not sure where the hell I'm going to get all this money, even just to pay rent for this month. Augh.

On that note, time to work for six hours. Maybe I should just do what I've always said I'd do since I was kid-- pack my guitar and my drawings, go to New Orleans, and set up my own space in the Quarter. Yeah. That'd be nice. Except for the tranvestites.