I love Grand Central -- it's a beautiful train station, with gorgeously architecture and a classy design. These days, however, I generally skulk through the platforms, trying to avoid eye contact with people in case they register that I'm on my way to a job interview. The greater concern, however, is that one day I'm going to run into a kid from my high school who will interrogate me and cast me into shame because while they're madly successful and already targeting their next position within the ranks at Morgan Stanley, I'm *gasp* unemployed and still trotting out the pearls.

Now I know this is a projection of my own insecurities, but you don't know my high school. It's full of wealthy kids who live off of privilege during their entire lives. This isn't to say that they have poor morals or that they don't work hard. But they dicked around in school, got into good universities through contacts, or ended up at mediocre colleges and used their family contacts for a great internship. I know I sound like a prat, but honestly, I was on that internship A-track. I just don't know why I'm now in the ignominious position of having to shy away from people whose opinions shouldn't matter. It's horrible to feel ashamed of what you are. Really horrible. I'm so regular about judging myself against impossible standards that I imagine everyone else is also constantly appraising and censuring me. This makes every day quite exhausting on the mental level, to tell you the truth.

I got a chance to speak to Katy on the phone, a small bonus for the day. Katy is all kinds of terrific, even though we have a lot of 'disagreements.' Every year that I've known her I start to like her a little more for very different reasons. She's a good friend in general, and one of my favourite people. I'm kind of hoping I'll pass away before her because she'd know how to handle my death with aplomb and humour whereas I would simply bawl at her grave like the usual waterpot that I am. She's leaving for Kyoto on July 23rd and I will miss her tremendously, even though we've been in touch only off-and-on since graduation. Katy is small and studies Russian. She goes a lovely shade of pink when she's tipsy and couples a schoolmarmish demeanor with a real penchant for 'partay'-ing. She performed Blanche Devereaux (from the Golden Girls) for about 10 seconds freshman year, and I'll never forget it.

I have the greatest friends.