Yesterday I took a walk to the Square and worked on my personal statement for grad school in the BR. Yay accomplishing things! It didn't take that long, as I suspected it wouldn't, and I spent another twnety minutes editing today, and now it's ready to give to Jeff.

The drill meeting was way too damn funny. One of the best I've been to in ages. And while I never managed to contribute that much as an undergrad, I seem to have decent ideas these days... I came up with the music theme for the whole show. I'm a superstar. :-)

Today I have to layout this program for the BWH memorial service for Lawren. I think that has made me decide I'm not going to it. It's next Saturday, and I thought it would be at 6, but it's at 5, and at least as it stands it's going to be many of the same folks who spoke already, and that was plenty depressing. I just can't take it anymore. I just want to go to the game and have a good time and not have to rush away to something I can't deal with. I kind of feel bad, but I know it's the right decision for me.

Either no one reads my away messages or no one cares, because no one entertained me with drunken post-party phone calls. I never get fun phone calls any more.

I'm going to die of the tired, I am! Last night I actually even got a decent amount of sleep... I took a nap, then headed to the Cube. I was the only one there, and D was passed out in his room, so K-brew and I watched Monk and I had a cup of shitty flat warm beer, and then I came home. This morning was really too early a wake-up for the weekend, but the game was noon and there was drinking to be done before that. No breakfast plus no caffeine plus two beers equals TIPSY. It was awesome. I ran around the stands feeding kids Rumply and Hat, which was Turkey today. I love having the winter hat out to cover the flask, though it was a jillion degrees in the stands. After filming halftime, I returned to discover that my supplies were dwindling, so when they vanished, I set to supplying water to the kids, running back and forth from the women's room like a crazy woman. We destroyed Brown, but I think I missed most of the game.

Ha, I won't get started on what Dave did to himself today. It involved a bit too much imbibing.

Hee, Jerry curses me and my water bottle of death... hey, silly, it's your fault you hit it so many times!

Oh! I got my own page in the poop! For the formation HOT, the theme was "A's Harem," and it was me and a selection of choice men, some jokes, some, heh, not jokes. I was impressed. Katherine put the best quotes ever all over the page. I'm going to get a good copy and frame it.

I wish I felt halfway decent enough to go to the party, but I think I really require sleep.

A burst of productivity at work, a trip to the mall, an impulse purchase of happy shiny nail buffer and other crap, quick snack at home, then off to the Cube. It was an epic Cube night, though we failed to kick the keg -- tomorrow, we say. Or rather, later today. I told myself I'd catch the last bus, but I knew all along that if I have survived on no sleep already this week, I haven't been trying hard enough. The keg was some sort of heinous light stuff, which I think passed through without very much effect, perhaps a pleasant buzz.

Maybe it is just those minutes, the ones you want back, when everything seemed perfect, before the fur started to fly. There were minutes I wanted back, and droplets boiled up behind my eyes, but I held them there. My heart is trying to trick my mind, but I reason that it's just nostalgia, just the wanting of the feeling. But it's hard to know. How do you know when you've let go of something good, or when you're just feeling sorry for yourself because it's an emotion, a sting to feel alive.

Okay, maybe not too much awkwardness. We'll see how it goes.

Tuesday night I caved and went to Chuck's for karaoke, and it was tons of fun. I foolishly squawked along with every song that anyone sang, and of course the bar was smoky. But it was great. Instead of leaving to catch the last bus, I stayed until last call, and then we went to the Kong and the boys ate a truly disgusting amount of fat. I had a little. Dave bit into his fork and broke off the fake tooth he had put in when he broke his face a while ago. It was sad, but gross, but funny.

Yesterday I accomplished nothing, as we had a brief meeting in the morning, and then the memorial service in the afternoon. I've been thinking about memorial services. They're really to comfort the living, but what comforts them? Maybe people really need to cry and be sad and grieve. But I selfishly assert that this is not going to be the format at my funeral. When I die, I want a kegger, and I want everyone there, regardless of age, to get traished. And sing raunch songs if any Bandies are there, which there will be as the Band is commissioned to play for the whole night. If people want to cry, they can do it during Fair Harvard. Or once they're sloshed, I guess they can't help it then.

I read the end of John Nichols' 1965 novel _The Sterile Cuckoo_ today, and the manic depressive female main character laments, "The trouble is that all good things in life take place in a minute -- I mean added up. A dream, Grandpa Adams, Glorious beetles, bathtubs, falling in love... I bet at the end of seventy years, should you live so long, you can probably sit down in a chair gnawing on your old apple and figure it out. You spend thirty-five years sleeping, five years going to the bathroom, nineteen years doing some kind of work you hated, eight thousand seven hundred and fifty-nine hours on the telephone, fifty-nine minutes blinking your eyes... and then there's one minute -- sixty seconds." I realized I couldn't feel more the opposite. For one thing, all those years sleeping I'm usually dreaming. Which is amazing when I consider that... I effortlessly live in this vibrant crazy world for something like a quarter of my life (though I don't remember it all), and I get sleep out of it also. I enjoy work, I enjoy putzing around on the computer, I enjoy riding the bus to and from work and reading or just staring out the window and thinking, I enjoy my friends, I enjoy talking and writing and thinking and feeling. Sure, there's gads of dull moments, but the majority really are good, and I probably didn't feel that way a few years ago, but I feel that way now, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. Pookie could see that the little things constituted the good, but in her mind, she had shrunk them down to a blip in a sea of nothingness. And that was a error that drained her down from liveliness to death.

But speaking of sleep, last night was another one lacking. I went to the square after work to drop off a magazine for Kat and stay for the drill meeting. Then I helped Jeff eject a stuck tape from the busted old camcorder, and proceeded to surf the internet trying to figure out options for a new one, cuz I know that sort of research is an asspain for other stressed out kiddies to handle when they're just trying to deal with regular week-to-week shit. By the time I was done with that, I thought to go home, but then Danny said he was meeting Damon at Uno's, so I submitted to temptation and went. It was tons of fun (though I was troubled by part of the conversation in which they were bragging about certain jokes to upset people... boys get to live this very sheltered life on some topics, and it's bad), and Danny had his car so I didn't have to catch the bus or a cab. I got home at a decent hour, which meant, of course, that I stayed up until a truly indecent hour because I decided my nails needed to be redone *right then*. They really looked terrible, but jeez. So, another day with very little sleep, and I feel okay. But not great and I need to really focus and write a manual this afternoon, and I know it will be the devil.

That's the thing, I keep thinking about Rocktober and how that will be the time when I really get back on track and eat right and exercise and not go out and spend too much time with the kids. But... I'm having a great time, and I love being social now more than I ever have. I don't feel lost, even though I probably have fewer anchors than when I was in college. But maybe now I have a lot of little anchors, and if one drops away for a bit, I don't feel it so much. And as for staying out too late, I haven't felt too tired (though this cold lingers one, but that often happens anyway). I haven't accomplished that much this week, but that might be more due to the distractions and events than lack of sleep. I do need to stop spending so much damn money, though. And eating crap!

Maybe today I will walk home, if it's nice and I'm not tired. I have sneakers on today.

Since I felt sort of wretched by the end of work yesterday, I went to the square after dinner and chilled with the Schnied and other kids. This was good, even though I stayed out too late. Not that I think it mattered, I slept like shit anyway, waking up coughing too often. Anyway, I talked to Jenn, which was awesome. Then we went and scavenged Brain Break at Lowell (Which had nothing left, as usual), and the K-hole, which still had plenty of food, being such a small house and all. I've learned when I'm in a surly mood that it's much better to go hang out with people, because if I don't, I end up feeling awful.

An annoying thing: I feel like there is awkwardness, and I don't like it at all, because *I* don't feel awkward about things, but I just get this vibe. Grr. Actually, the vibe I get is that my presence is annoying, which sucks. Nobody else finds my presence annoying -- well, okay, not *that* annoying -- so what the hell? Maybe I'm just reading things in that aren't there. But anyway, I don't know how to get back on track, how to "just be one of the guys" again, get through this weirdness. Because my relations with everyone else are going awesome, and I'd like this piece to fit into that.

On a different note, I always say I need to make more friends outside the Band, but then I always run across people already in the Band that I don't know very well that I get to know better and really like a lot, and they're so readily accessible. I mean, I guess I'm just lazy, but I also don't see the point in exerting tons of effort to meet lots of new people, especially if I'm going to move anyway. The kids I get to know better are awesome enough.

If I kept a log of the unproductive hours at work, it would be truly appalling.

Ah, the weekend recap. Friday night I failed to come home at all early. We went to Chuck's and drank lots of pitchers. It was cool to see all the old kids, though, and all get to hang out. We headed to the Kong, where we were joined by youngins, and there was much drinking of Scorpions bowls and eating of fat, and this crazy ass chick came over and knew Dave from the Pudding, though I don't think he remembered her too well. She proceeded to eat one of those ridiculously hot peppers (of the Nick Hiza infamy), and then she washed it down with a bowl of soy sauce. Yikes. I barely remember leaving, I was tipsy and so tired, but Dr. and I caught the last Night Owl to Porter and walked to the Cube, and I entertained with my deep scratchy voice. At the Cube, K-brew had his sister and friend (?) there, and eventually I decided to go home. I was so tired, I had to be rescued by a cab like halfway there. Best $5 I ever spent.

Saturday I was up by 10, and I went out to catch the bus for Worcester. It was such a great day, and we won the game! It could have been a bit cooler; I was boiling, and I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt! Can't imagine how wretched uniform must have felt. Football is great, and buses are great, and the kids are great. The day went really well, and I felt like it flowed like mid-season, with senior staff in a groove, and no major catastrophes. Okay, well, none that were discovered until yesterday when it was found that the block is missing. Which is not only sad for Jer for the loss of all the tags he worked so long and hard to produce, but also for the loss of the block itself (though a new one might be made lighter and easier to lug around). Personally, I don't know who would take it, seeing as it is a beast of great size. But anyway, other than that, things went extraordinarily smoothly.

I stuck around the square for some Uno's dinner, and then parked in the BR with some thorat-happy tea before the party. I wouldn't have minded showering and changing into hot party clothes, but as tired and throat-sore as I was by then, I knew I'd never make it back to the square. The party was fun; the froshies are cute and fun, and none of them struck me as big freaks, which rules. They did turn in pretty early, and none of them partook of too much beverage, but that happens every year and it's probably a good thing. :-) It was an inferno in there, as the air conditioner is busted, so I spent some quality time on the stoop, as it was gorgeous this weekend. Eventually, things turned to Psychiatrist, and I avoided playing for a while (and tried to pretend not to be listening), but then everyone who wasn't playing left, so I played a bit. Dave was in the middle and failed to really dig up anything good on me. :-) After that, taxi home to sweet sweet sleep.

Yesterday I got up late, putzed around, and then headed to the square to watch football since K was doing her homework in the living room. It's sort of annoying that my TV is in the living room, if there's uninterruptible work going on in there. Maybe she wouldn't have cared if I'd plunked down and turned on the TV, but it seemed like a rude idea. Anyway, I was the only occupier of the BR for a while, but some kids filtered in and out. I was glad to discover in one conversation that I'm not the only person finding certain folks to be very grating in these opening weeks. At any rate, after the early games, I headed up to Summer St for the late game, hanging with the old kids again. I'm glad there are more old kids these days.

Back to work... I haven't done much of use today, but what else is new for Monday? This cold has only derailed me trying to get my act together, but I've decided that Rocktober is the month to refocus on things like applications, eating properly, and joining the gym here by work. Until then, woooooooo!

In the midst of writing the above, the block was found! Yay! So, I guess that means the kids really had a near-perfect outing.

Shit. Lawren died. I guess it's been coming for a long time, but it still sucks. He was such a great guy, and he had so many wonderful things to give, and it's just so wrong that he didn't have longer to do that. I never really got a chance to work with him, and so many others won't get that chance either. I can see why people get so angry at cancer, or at anything that steals people away before their time. Fucken cancer. Sigh. Goodbye, Lawren, we'll miss you.

Grrr, this pisses me off. This 18-year-old died after using RU-486 to terminate a pregnancy, and so now it's going to be this big huge pro-life hysteria. What's mentioned but not emphasized in the article is that she was rushed to the emergency room with bleeding and cramps so bad she couldn't stand, and they sent her home with painkillers. She died three days later. The enemy in this story is not RU-486. It's the jackasses in the ER who didn't make sure she got proper treatment, which at that point should have probably been surgery. At least monitoring! I'd like to hear what happened in that ER... I wouldn't be surprised if a fair bit of stigmatization didn't come into play. Erg, so much sad and awful about this story, and angering about the way it will be used by diverting the focus away from anything real.

I hate mild respiratory illness. It's enough to make me feel shitty, but not enough to clearly make me feel like I should not go to work. Maybe I'll feel well enough after breakfast and shower.

I didn't really feel so hot, so I stayed home. Which was good because I slept and read and did laundry and didn't have to deal with the outside much. The day turned out to be pretty warm, so that was good, but I'm still glad I just took the day off.

Of course, I plan to go out tonight, since I'm feeling all right, and a shitload of old folks are gathering up. I may ditch them early, so I can get a billion hours of sleep before tomorrow's game, but still, it'll be fun.

It's so great, all the sophomores with their crises. I forgot what that was like, and how annoying I was as a sophomore. I love the kids, but damn there hasn't been a one that I haven't wanted to smack at least once since they've returned. Okay, maybe a couple have escaped my irritation. But anyway, it's a tough adjustment, and they'll grow through it, and I love them all anyway, my slew of younger siblings.

Scratchy throat... I hope this isn't an incoming cold.

I just figured out that it's only 4 miles to my house from work. It's three between work and Harvard, and I have walked that pretty often this summer. I guess I thought my house was more like 5 miles away. The big bummer about walking to my house, though, is 1) ugly, ugly Prospect St.; 2) ending with the big ass hill. Walking *to* work could be fun, except for the invariable hatred of being upright that I have in the morning, esp since I stopped drinking coffee before I head out to work. I'd either be too tired to stand, or I'd have to have so much coffee that I'd have to find places to pee along the route. Walking to Harvard is nice because I have a choice of the river or Cambridgeport, both of which are lovely.

I'm trying to not think about how soon it will be cold and I won't be able to walk anywhere. Then I'll have to join the damn gym and make that happen every day. I sauntered by FitCorp to see how it looked, and it is less intimidating than I expected. I'm also less intimitable now that I am svelter and in better shape. I would be totally confident if my butt and thighs didn't feel the need to store up for constant, neverending winter. Hey ass, I can buy more clothes! Go away fatty! Anyway, I feel that come October, I'll be back in the gym, but near work this time around.

In great news, I conned my way onto the bus for this weekend's game. Okay, I guess I'm a poor con artist if my con includes me shlepping things from the practice field to the bus and generally being helpful to Prop Crew all day, but at least I get to ride the bus! And I can wake up at 10 am! And I can drink! Which reminds me, I should purchase some Rumple of Champions before then.

Friendster freaks me out because I have only like 7 friends so far, but every time I find one of my high school classmates, they're linked back to totally my friends from Harvard. Actually, most of them link back to Sam or Withers, which is really strange.

Friendster is also awesome for finding the people I friggin almost forgot existed, but who are awesome.

I feel a bit better now, but right after work today, I felt wretched. Not ill wretched, just wretched. I feel a little lost these days, I guess, a little disconnected. I've been hanging out with the kids a lot, in this attempt to stave off some kind of isolation, I guess, but it's just not quite the same as when I had really close friends at hand. All the people I can really really talk to are quite far away or very busy, and that even makes using the phone difficult. But I just have to try harder to keep in touch, I have to do what I can. But it would be nice if there were someone here who was just always up to date with me (and I with them), who understood me, who I could really shoot the shit with. I got spoiled in high school and college with having so many people like that.

Weekend recap. Friday after work was the infamous barbecue. We utterly failed to get the fire going by the time the kids got there, or even very soon after, and that damn grill is so tiny you can only cook like five burgers at a time. Very sad. So, things didn't really work out as planned, but JTodd is awesome for tending the grill pretty much all himself, and other unnamed people suck suck suck for doing nothing but whining and cutting in front of freshmen to eat. Not cool.

Afterwards the old kids went to Shay's, back to the BR to watch the State, and then back out to the Kong. We were ridiculous, and then Danny poured water on me and I decided that I would show him and leave! I wasn't really mad, but I knew if I stayed, I was tired enough I might actually get mad, so I figured someone would call me and I'd laugh, or they'd end up in the BR where I'd laugh. I went there and crashed on the couch, until Clark and Jer showed up and got to see groggy drunk me try to talk, and then they left so I napped some more until I finally got up enough disgust at sleepingon the band couch to get some money and take a cab home.

Saturday I did my nails like all day. Seriously, it took forever. But now they are shorter, and they look a lot better as I am much more adept with the acrylic and the filing. I shortened them all the way to the nail base and painted them bright shiny red, so they are very cute.

After that was some shopping in an attempt to find a cowboy hat for the party. After traversing West Somerville without luck, I went to the mall and found one finally, and bought some new pants since my old ones are baggy ass.

I got all decked out in my cowgirl gear: a black sequined-front halter top, demin skirt, red boots, and cowboy hat. Accolades all around. There was a WE pre-party, complete with jello shots. And then on to the main event. It was a Cowboys and Indians theme, and so we roped off an area of the room to be the reservation, in which we put a card table. That ended up being the three-man table later in the evening. I had been complaining about the lack of effect the punch was having, but I was soon done complaining as I proceeded to be three-man for a billion rounds, including one in which Jerry rolled two double threes in addition to a gajillion sevens (I was left of him, of course) made up of three and four so I had to drink twice. I think that turn he made me drink 28 times. Anyway, three-man is a great, but evil game. We moved on to Zoom Schwartz, and I just played defense because I was too tipsy to go on the offensive. I love watching new people play that game because it's like watching someone learn a new language very quickly.

I got home around 5 am, via the Cube. A friend of Danny and Damon's drove us, which was great because I've already spent too much on cabs this week. Yestready I slept in until around 2:30, which is insane, and then I watched football and read this anatomy and physiology textbook from the library. I'm trying to ensure that my brain doesn't forget how to study things before I go back to school. I've decided to maybe actually pay attention to football this year, as it is fabulous.

Last night I had another dream that I died! That's like the second one in a few months. This time I was out on some sort of edifice by the harbor, with lots of other folks. Suddenly people are all staring at one thing, and so I look, but I don't see anything, and I soon realize that only about half of the people looking can actually see anything. But they're shushing other folks who are trying to ask what the hell they're looking at, and they're listening intently. Suddenly, almost like it's not happening then but happened a few seconds before and I was seeing it on replay, I saw a bright flash of something landing off in the distance. But no sound. But then I look over the wall down into the water, and there is a whale there floating up near the top, and there is a box on its nose, and we all know that it is a bomb. Like, a big bomb! I turn to the person standing next to me and said something about how we were in the blast range and were too close to get away. He concurred. Everyone sort of realized this, but no one moved, I guess feeling like there was no point. I ducked behind the wall, and the guy told me that it didn't matter, the wall wasn't going to help (especially since it had a little decorative hole in the brick, which I hoped would maybe let the blast through without breaking the wall). He just stood there looking out, waiting. And then boom, and all I could see was a white fuzzy outline of either a fish or a diaper pin on black, and it kind of flashed a bit. Screwy.

In other news, I have a doctor's appointment today that I totally forgot about. Poo. It's just a physical, but still, icky tests!

Nothing like shelling out $15 to have a giant q-tip shoved up yer cooch.

Oh wait, was that too much info? Oh wait, I don't care!

My life is in shambles. I have no food in the house, I really need to do laundry, and my room is a mess. And I need to pay bills and tidy up the finances. Do I feel like doing any of this? Not at all. In fact, I'll probably go to the Square and putz around and go see the kids tonight.

Partook in another free dinner on Harvard last night, at Adams House, for the general drill meeting. Chris is definitely the most practical Drill Master we've had in my time: he actually wants to write by committee, and he's really thinking well about appealing to the full audience. Wow, finally a drill who isn't so full of himself that he insists on writing all the shows himself and being the ultimate arbiter of funny and who needs to make as many penis jokes as possible in one season.

So that was fun, and later we all went over to the Palace Flophouse for crazy party goodness. I really did intend just to stay until the last bus, around quarter to one, but alcohol got the best of me, and it's been a while since I've been sick or taken a day or half day off, so I decided to take a personal morning and stick with the party until around 3am. Well worth it. Lots of dancing and girl talk and fun. I can't wait until Saturday's party. I love parties!

Ooh, and I saw Lil Gou yesterday, and he has a beard! Not a lousy one like his brother's attempts, but a real, nice-looking beard. SEXY! I'm not usually a fan of facial hair, but it makes him look a bit older. Hee.

I did manage to make it to work by about noon, so I think I'm just going to stay late, and then go home and sleep. No gig for me tonight, the kids can live without me. Tomorrow will be barbecue goodness and maybe some going out with Court, and then Saturday is craziness.

I don't know what is up with the sudden wistfulness this week. I enjoy all this benefit from being untied and free... so I should just enjoy it and not mull over The Way Things Could Be if, well, if things were different. If things had been different. Beh.

I'm so excited to be writing this new paper. Jeff encouraged me to ditch the old one, since I clearly was not going anywhere with it, and to try out this one. I'm already getting to the point where I'm drafting a pretty-detailed outline of it. And it's surprisingly easy!

The Drill came up with a truly brilliant way of showing those froshies the hang-out chill social side of the Band: bring the Band Room to the Yard. Right now the kids are out playing foosball and chilling on the couch IN THE YARD! This is epic.

I was thinking I should really go home tonight after work, but I don't really have any reason to other than not wanting to feel like I'm hanging around too much. But, the kids are back, and they'll soon be too busy to hang out with, and I want to hang out and be social! So, fuck personal pride, I like the kids too much.

Paul Krugman says I Told You So. I was just thinking this morning I wish someone woud come out and say this about this Iraq mess. All the bad things the anti-war folks said have come to pass: there are no WMD, there is still no evidence to link Iraq to 9/11, it's costing too much, we shot ourselves in the foot by wagging our tongues at the international community and the UN, and it has not been the easy glorious victory the chickenhawks expected. I wish there could be an I Told You So rally, a huge embarrassing one on the Washington Mall. Not that I think this would get Bush and Co to apologize for being so very wrong wrong wrong.

Mmmm, weekend. Saturday I got my haircut. Nothing really drastic, but it was fun and the stylist was cool. I met up with Jenn for lunch at Cambridge Common, which was lovely. For the evening, I had some Scotch.

I'm terrible. ;-)

Anyhoo, Sunday I ended up going to the gig, which was lame as always, but lame in a fun hanging outside kinda way. Eventually had dinner at the Berg, and old-school treat, made great by it being free and temporary in my world of cuisine. People who have to eat dining hall all year are much less excited by it. Ran around with some kids and went to laugh hysterically at JTodd's very tiny bedroom. Seriously, there is no smaller bedroom on campus. The old Sex Room at the Lowell Mansion had about the same floor square footage. The Palace Flophouse's *bathroom* has that much space!

Speaking of the PF, that was the next stop, for Matty's birthday. They have a really great room this year, even if it is miles from the ground. Everyone has clearly been deprived of social contact, as folks showed up right on time and in force. We hit the Kong with great timing such that Scorpion bowls arrived at midnight, and M downed his horrid-tasting flaming shot with requisite valor. All in all, a good evening.

I think I'm going to keep being crusty and go to the meetings tonight. The beginning of the year is too fun.

I'm such a wuss! I played cymbals yesterday for about six fight songs and my arms were and are killing me! I've even started doing weights again! But cymbals are a total arm workout, and I haven't played since Commencement. It's too bad they're so loud or I'd get a pair for developing buff torso.

But what I really need now is a sexy boy to massage my shoulders and back. Or, ya know, whatever.

I'vev decided to be brave (and cheap) and try to fill in my own nails. I bought an electric filing tool for $8 (cuz if it sucks, it was cheap so no biggie!), and some acrylic fill for about the same. Maybe I just go t a shitty salon, but really, the folks who have done my nails thus far have been no real superstars, and as fixated as I am on my nails, I can probably do just fine. I mean, as it is, I always feel the need to file and repaint them after the salon anyway because I don't like them. So we'll see, it could be a disaster.

For the first time in my life, I've made a hair appointment instead of just going to Great Cuts. And I even made it sufficiently early so as to kick my ass out of the house tomorrow morning.

If there's one thing I learned on the diet, it's that I need chocolate. That and getting drunk were the only things I missed. I've taken to buying chocolate chips for work; this is much cheaper and better than buying candy bars all the time, because I can have little bits of chocolate throughout the day, and I don't end up eating too much. If I buy a candy bar, no way I'm not eating the whole thing.

You kids will never believe it. I've stopped drinking coffee. Not 100%, but drastically. I can still mostly handle espresso-based devilry, but drip coffee consumption has gone down big time. Part of it was definitely that bad milk business. Part of it has been a slightly iffy stomach, thought that's subsiding. Part of it is tea is so damn good. I've bought tons of it, and I drink three or four cups a day.

So, the great nail filling experiment went pretty well. Certainly I didn't do a perfect job, but it's totally serviceable, and I'll get better at it. It took a lot longer than the salon, but a lot of that was filing. It's surprisingly tricky to get the right mix to make the acrylic work, but I started to get the hang of it. Moral of the story: cheaper is good and not of significantly poorer quality. And I even repaired a nail, that the woman who did them last time just kinda ignored. The one thing I shold have done was clip them all before I started, because many of them are too long, and it's easier to fill and file and paint shorter nails (though it's a pain to think them).

Why have a webjournal you don't share? Why not write in a paper journal? There's something different, though, about the web journal. In my written journal, I always feel like I have to tell the whole story. Maybe it's because it's what I've always done. It takes a long time to write every little stupid thing, and somehow when I write, I get mired in details. I've associated typing -- faster anyway -- with a sort of writing short on details and high on emotional communication. Part of that is the intentional vagueness due to the presence of a known audience. But the possible presence of some kind of audience makes it important; even if I know I don't have a real audience, I still have to care about what I'm saying, I still try to communicate to other outside my head, I try to get a point across.

What I'm saying is, I've been feeling stunted here for a while. I need to blow off steam and daydream and gossip. Even if it's just with myself -- actually, it probably works better that way. I'm feeling a lot freer, a lot better, my brain has an output. Sorry not to share it. I wasn't sharing it anyway.

I know I need to get phone calls done today. But man, I hate phone calls. Most of these people are truly wretched. Most of the non-wretched people do the survey by mail.

Also, the weekend can't come fast enough. Need fix.

Usually this is one of the hotter weeks of the year, just in time for people to be moving. It's totally fall-tastic today.

I called all the peeps, and none of them were in. Woo!

I decided to use the extra time to poke around at grants and fellowships, but I quickly got mired in this horrid race/ethnicity question. And the purpose of the question is so manifold that I can't even use that as a rubric for answering.

Ow ow ew, zucchini bread snarfed up into my sinuses. I think I got it all down. Yech!

Oh winter, I've missed you so much! I'm so glad you've come back... those couple of months without you were so sad! NOT. Today is a wonderful rainy 60-degree fall day, and I'm wearing pants and long sleeves. Within the month, I bet I'll have to wear my winter coat, which I never actualy put away but just left hanging on my closet door.

I wonder if my phones are broken. No one ever calls me. Not like I ever call anyone, but still.

I just spent like the last half hour watching my boss futz around with this dataset, until she was supposed to go have a lunch meeting and I kicked her out of the way and did what I needed myself. Which took 30 seconds. Extremely fucking annoying.

Dude, my coworker's new boyfriend is unfairly hot. Like, seriously, why is the hotness of guys not more evenly distributed? That guy could be way less hot and still be really hot, and other dumpier guys could use that hotness to be hot themselves. That would make us all happier.

WOOOOOHOOOO! TAKE THAT VERIZON! Thanks to my new friend Marilyn at Mass Dept of Telecom (Consumer Division), all my charges should be dropped! Hooray!!!

There's always someone else.

Last weekend we watched High Fidelity during our movie marathon... maybe it strikes a nerve. Like I'm never going to get it right, and no one will ever want me for very long. Such a stupid train of thought.

In better trains of thought, I really do have some fabulous friends. Some of the good ones through no real effort of my own, even. It's good to have someone I can really just talk to and not have any fear. It's good to have someone who *gets* it.

And I'm not going to let any wretched people tell me what to think or how to feel. I've gone through the process of getting my life in order, and I can sort these things out pretty well by now, thankyouverymuch.