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Apparently, Grantaire is using the calligraphy I taught him to write only inappropriate things. I can't say I'm surprised, really.

California summers are always brutal when you spend the whole day in the sun. I'm really lucky that I'm good about sunscreen. My mother taught me that. Also? Sno-Cone stands don't get the credit they deserve.

Anybody else out there enjoying the sun? Or surviving it, rather?

Remember that woman who was giving me shit about the way I dress? She has a lackey, now, who she talks to at the water cooler. Said lackey makes a point to give me dirty looks every time I pass her desk for no reason.

All right, there might be a reason. The woman asked me if perhaps my shirt was a little low cut so I said I didn't think so, but told her that I liked hers and loudly asked if she made it herself. Her lackey was right there to witness the event. I feel like this is some kind of weird war going on between Ruth and myself. I wouldn't be so snippy if she would just let up on the comments about my wardrobe. Honestly, it's not like I dress like a slut. I'm perfectly decent.

Ugh.