I called him as soon as I got back tonight from groveling for money. Now I'm groveling for a job. He wasn't in, but I left a message. It's just so obvious I don't belong at BF. I belong at a place like T or D.

9/21.

Talked to Gerry today. It was so good to hear his voice. And that really almost freaks me out.

"Courtney! My favorite former employee!" he said when he answered the phone. Well, after he got past his trademark "Truth or Dairy, this is Gerry!" He gets so excited about it, like he's the first person who's ever rhymed before. Like he hasn't made the same rhyme year after year, day after day.

I told him how much I missed working with him and how working for BF was awful and then I begged him to think about opening a new store here. "There's nothing in town anything like T or D, you'd make so much money, and-"

"I don't know, Courtney." He was completely dragging his Birkenstocked feet.

"Come on, Gerry. We'll call it Truth or Dairyland! Or American Truth, or America's Dairyland!" I said. Total on-the-spot-new-state brainstorm.

Gerry wasn't impressed. He told me that sounded like a course t.i.tle I must be taking. "Sorry, Courtney. But I really don't have the capital to expand right now. And even if I did . . . as much as I respect and trust you, Courtney, uh, Wauzataukie, Wisconsin, would not be my first choice." He made it sound like this town is a bad place or something just because of its tongue-twister name. "There are still Colorado cities I want to conquer. Wait, conquer isn't the right word, it's too violent. I'd never go in with the idea of starting anything. I don't want a smoothie war on my hands." He started laughing. "That would be quite a sticky mess!"

"My life is a sticky mess!" I interrupted him. "I'm working for a corporate giant that chews up local compet.i.tion and spits it out. They're like the Microsoft of bagel makers!"

"Oh. How unfortunate."

I started crying. In front of Gerry. (Okay, not in front technically, but close enough to be humiliating.) I told him all the problems I'd been having with the manager and how she kept comparing me to this "problem employee."

"Don't put up with that-quit!" Gerry said. "Isn't that what you usually do when you're trying to prove a point?" He reminded me of how I'd quit twice last fall when I was going through what he calls my "unstable senior-year period." (Once a guidance counselor, always insane.) "I can't quit," I said, ignoring the way he was typecasting me as a quitter. "There aren't any other jobs here. That's why I'm asking you to create one."

"Sorry. I just can't," he said. He sounded really sincere about it. "I need to keep the business close to home."

Home. Yeah, I've heard of that place.

Then the conversation took a really weird turn.

"While I have you on the phone, Courtney, have you heard what happened to Beth?"

"No," I said slowly. I hadn't talked to her or gotten an email in the last week. "Why?"

"Well, she and your brother . . . they apparently got into a fight yesterday," Gerry said. "And Beth went out and bought some cigarettes on her way into work. And she was lighting one while she was driving, and I think a cell phone was involved, and, well-she crashed her car into the sign here."

The Shops at Canyon Boulevard sign? I couldn't believe it. Why hadn't she told me? Called me in a panic? "Was she hurt?" I asked.

"No, not at all. But her parents are positively livid," Gerry said. "And the strip mall advisory board is none too happy with her. Business is down since yesterday. They want her banned from parking in our lot."

"That's ridiculous! Everyone has accidents," I said.

"Yes. But not everyone jumps out of their car and starts yelling at the sign in front of valuable patrons," Gerry said.

Beth sounds really stressed out. I have got to get in touch with her. Maybe she will transfer here after all.

9/22.

Talked to Beth. She told me what happened and we laughed for a really long time. She said she went on a rant because she was mad at having to make that turn in all the traffic and the person behind her honked at her, etc. I could just picture it all so clearly. I probably would have been in the car with her, but then, if I had, she wouldn't have been smoking or talking on the phone, so maybe not. Anyway, she's fine, except that Gerry is asking her to go door-to-door and apologize to all the other businesses in the strip mall for her behavior.

She threw out the cigarettes as soon as it happened, and then called Bryan and they made up and life is hunky-dory and non-smoking again. She said she tried to call me but didn't get me, so she called Grant instead, and he calmed her down. Superior boyfriend even helps my friends.

Thyme and I went to the campus co-op house tonight for dinner. They were having an open house to recruit new members. We had to pay, but a.s.sumed we'd get awesome organic food. Probably our expectations were unreasonable. We're never going back.

Most disgusting meal ever. Mishmash of mush and tofu. Flavorless. Shapeless. Looked like prison food. Inedible.

Then afterward they said they had room for only one new member, so all the people there who were interested needed to write an essay with an application fee and then have an interview and then cook for all the existing members, just to get in so they could eat more c.r.a.ppy meals.

Thyme and I left before dessert. We were laughing so hard and still so hungry that she took me out for dinner at Koffee Kitchen. Drank too much coffee and now can't sleep.

Wonder what Grant is doing tonight. Probably has more fun things to do on Friday nights. Probably out.

Just called him, and his roommate said he hadn't seen him since 2.

Since 2? But it's 11 there. Doesn't he at least need to come home and, I don't know, call me?

9/23.

Work this morning was very strange. Jennifer kept talking about an exciting new menu addition, but wouldn't say what it actually was. She said we all needed to be "on board" for the "Bagle Brainstorm" that was coming our way on Monday.

Mark rolled his eyes. "We're so thrilled. What now? Blue cheese bagels?" I looked at his name tag. He had recently punched out a new one on the label maker, so it now said Marc.

"How about blue cheese and blueberry?" Ben asked.

"Or could we get goat cheese involved somehow?" I asked.

Jennifer shook her head. "You guys are so weird. Just be ready, that's all I'm saying. And what's with that?" She pointed to Mark/Marc's new name tag.

"It's called a name change," Marc said. "I'm exploring my ident.i.ty. Do you mind?"

"No, but don't do it on company time," Jennifer said.

After work, I met Thyme back at the dorm. Mary Jo was hanging out with Kirsten in their room, so Thyme and I stayed in my room. Very awkward. The 4 of us kept running back and forth to get stuff we all wanted. Reminded me of a fight I got into at a sleepover at Beth's house in junior high. We divided into 2 parties, except I left my sleeping bag, backpack, etc., in the wrong room. Ended up having to apologize just to get my pajamas. Why didn't I just go home? Not sure.

9/24.

Shocking development at Badicals meeting today! We were all supposed to discuss ways to fight the college initials, or at least the chanting of them at football games. I didn't really have any big ideas, but since the major concept was mine, I didn't feel too much pressure. Thyme was going to do a presentation on how the school could easily become known as Feminist Falls or something like that (sounds like a product advertised by mothers and daughters); she was trying to come up with alternative names but had some really bad ones like that.

Anyway, we trekked into the meeting and this guy was already talking, doing his presentation. It was Wittenauer, the milk-hormone protester and champion fund-raiser! He's trying to undermine, change, revolutionize the place while simultaneously getting people to send in huge checks.

Wittenauer agrees with my idea to change the school name. He's also protesting the mascot, for promoting cruelty to corn and veggies in general. He said that to use their image to promote the college is just wrong.

"Okay, but not as bad as using an animal," I said. "Like the CU Buffaloes, when they run Ralphie out onto the field, or Cam the Ram at CSU-"

Everyone jumped all over me! They had like a dozen prepared arguments to shoot me down with. "It's exactly as bad!" Wittenauer started describing all the things that are done to harm defenseless crops-and defenseless mascots. I was wondering how he knew so much about it, and asked if he was an Ag major.

"No," he said, and his face got all red. "I'm Corny."

Agh! Top school fund-raiser is top Badical and also school mascot.

Corny believes in change from within. Which is why he's the mascot while simultaneously protesting the idea of the mascot. But no one can know Wittenauer is the mascot because "the position is secret and it's a Cornwall Falls tradition and only the people in this room know it's me," he insisted. "I only reveal my ident.i.ty here because I think I can help our cause while remaining anonymous. The mascot gets chosen by the previous mascot by getting tapped on the shoulder. Nothing is ever spoken."

Wait a second, I thought. He tapped me on the shoulder at that outdoor party. Did that mean . . . ? But no, he's only a junior. I refuse the position anyway.

Afterward, Thyme and I went downstairs to play pool. Saw those guys who think Thyme's name is hilarious. When they saw us, one of them said, "Hey, look, it's Parsley and Sage!"

Thyme said she's heard this her whole life, and she's learned to just ignore it. But I couldn't ignore it because at first they were actually really funny. They kept calling me Oregano and the Un-named Spice Girl.

But then they totally turned on me and said, "Where did you go to high school again? Rutting Elk?" "No, I think it was Molting Elk," another one said.

"Bugling Elk," I said.

They started to make fun of it even more, and this weird feeling came over me, a feeling I'd only had a few times before, and usually only at a.s.semblies or while signing yearbooks: intense pride in high school. Best place ever. Should never have left it and come to this place where guys roam student union looking for girls to pick on. I was V.P. there. I was somebody. I didn't hang around pool tables getting insulted by freshman boys in matching baseball caps.

Just wait until I change the school's name and their dumb caps are like null and void.

9/25.

Why does everything have to happen at once? Just when I thought I was getting settled here, finding friends, feeling at home, blah blah blah, wham! How about this to ruin your life, Courtney?

Bagle Brainstorm: Bagle Finagle's meat license or whatever they needed finally came through. Now we don't just sell cold-cut sandwiches, which, okay, weren't that great to begin with. But now we're going to sell Bratwurst Bites, Bacon Bacles, Brat-in-a-Blanket, Knockwurst Knots, Sausage Snaps, ugh, all variation on the same theme, weird meats inside bagels.

h.e.l.lo? Isn't one of the really great qualities about bagels that they don't have meat inside them???

And if that wasn't bad enough, Jennifer announced that she was putting me in charge of the "New Product Team."

"But I'm a vegetarian," I said. "Can't I be in charge of chopping the non-meat items? What about salad in a blanket?"

"Where does the dressing go?" Jennifer asked.

"In the blanket," I said.

"No way. Too soggy," she said.

She has an answer for everything.

"Courtney, life is change. You either accept that and move on, or, well, I don't know. Here." She handed me my new ap.r.o.n. Which says in big letters: Knock knock! (right across the chest) Who's there?

Knockwurst knots!

I am supposed to wear this thing? And have people ask about my "knock knock" ap.r.o.n? The humiliation is going to be endless.

Jennifer only put me in charge because she knows I'd hate it and is trying to break my will, like something out of that Paul Newman movie involving a prisoner and eggs and a chain gang, only I'm not in "the hole," I'm in "the h.e.l.l" of promoting pork-filled dough.

"Courtney, we've got to compete. We need to stay compet.i.tive. Brat Wurstenburger really cuts into our lunch business," Jennifer said, "and market studies in other Bagle Finagles show that there's a real need for these lunch items."

"But that place has been here for a hundred years. You're the one who's trying to cut into their business!" Found myself in the incredibly awkward position of standing up for Brat Wurstenburger. Grandpa might be proud, but my self-esteem was crumbling to the ground.

"I'm going to quit," I told Marc when the meeting broke up and we were standing there holding our new brown ap.r.o.ns.

"So am I," Marc said. "I refuse to wear this . . . this . . . whatever." His ap.r.o.n said Make my BLT on a bacle! in big yellow letters.

"This is just her shameless attempt to like . . . dominate me," I said. "And she wants me to quit. But you know what? I'm not going to give her the satisfaction."

"Yeah. Neither am I," said Marc. And he grabbed the label maker and started making another new name tag for himself. At least I thought it was for him. Then he handed me the label. "Sucker."

9/26.

Right now Mary Jo has soft music on, some country-western singer singing romantic c.r.a.p . . . what's up with that? It's either just her bad taste in music, or she's in love.

"Why do you have to be so far away . . ." the song tw.a.n.gs, over and over, which only makes me think of Grant.

Does it make her think of him, too? Caught her yesterday staring closely at one of his photos. She said it was because she thought she saw a horse in the background-which was true, the picture was from when we visited a vet school-and wanted to know what kind it was, but now I'm not sure. Wasn't she really checking out Grant? And what was with those long phone conversations they have when he calls and I'm not home? Can't she just let the machine pick up?

Why did I have to get a roommate who communicates so well with animals and with my boyfriend?

9/27.

I'm working at Funders right now. Have to write this down because it's very funny.

Corny/Wittenauer just came over and said, "So Courtney, it's all set for Sat.u.r.day, right? The football game?"

We have big plans for our CFC protest. I'd ironed them out with Corny at the end of our meeting on Sunday and he was calling everyone to coordinate.

Anyway, the ever-present Dean Sobransky was hanging around. He thinks that just because he's our supervisor and we work downstairs from his office he should drop by constantly. He happened to overhear. "What's that?" he asked. "What's all set?"

"Oh, Courtney and I. We're uh, having breakfast," he said.

Dean S. raised his eyebrow. "I didn't mean to pry."

"No, of course you didn't," Wittenauer said, sort of winking at me.

"You're such a genius at this job. If you don't mind giving Courtney some tips. You know," Dean S. said in a tone I guess he thought was low enough for me not to hear. "Show her the way."

"Which way is that?" Wittenauer joked.

Out of town? I'm thinking. Really fast? Dean S. is way too nosey. He should not be in charge of Student Affairs, he should leave that to us. Not that I'm thinking of having one, just, you know. He's overinvolved. Needs his own life.

9/28.

Nearly fainted from shock when I got home tonight. There was an actual boy in our room. I was wrong! Mary Jo isn't after Grant-she has a boyfriend of her own.

She'd been talking about someone named Joe for a while, but I honestly haven't been around much and I wasn't paying attention. I sort of thought it was one of her brothers.

Instead it's this freshman who is tall and skinny and has lots of nervous tics. But Mary Jo loves him.

Mary Jo and Joe. That's like a double Joe. (In other words, a large coffee?) If they have any kids, they can name him or her Jo-Joe Johannsen. If he lets her keep her name. Which he wouldn't. I can just tell.

But I'm hoping they don't get married, have kids, or even stay together for one more week, because even though Mary Jo and I have nothing in common and I can't wait to switch roommates and live off campus ASAP, I think she deserves way better than this guy. I guess he is her study partner, because they met in chemistry and got to know each other in cla.s.s and while Mary Jo helped him with his homework. (Refuse to believe he could manage material on his own. Too stupid. Also, too much of an opinionated jerk.) "Courtney's from Colorado," Mary Jo said when she introduced us. They were drinking giant Sprites and going through her CD collection, playing all the really awful stuff. Which is all of it.