Holy shit fuck. Here's a summary of the next three weeks for me:

  • Saturday 12/2: Drive 2.5 hours each way to a doctor's appointment.
  • Monday 12/4: Hand in two papers. Take a test.
  • Friday 12/8: Hand in thesis. Right now I have 13 of 30 pages.
  • Tuesday 12/12: Hand in seminar paper. Right now I have 0 of 25 pages.
  • Wednesday 12/13: Final exam. This is the thing that I'm least worried about.
  • Friday 12/15: Hand in book report. Right now I have 0 of 10 pages and I haven't yet selected a book, let alone started reading it.
  • Saturday 12/16: DIE.


Oh, dear God. I just got the album Rockabye Baby! Lullaby Renditions of Radiohead. I think I need to have a baby immediately so I can make it listen to this. I will have the coolest kid ever.

     I went to West Lafayette and saw everyone from elementary school.
     I got a phone call from someone I used to be friends with and she said she was serving in the army and she was going to be deployed to Iraq within a few days.
     I was riding the bus and people were playing Risk on it (à la Seinfeld) and I couldn't get by. I started bitching about how I pay for the service and I'd like to be able to use it, and the bus driver said technically I didn't pay for it.
     I went back to the Settlement and my mom and one other employee were having a debate about which fruits had seeds.
     Alex didn't want to go to IFV. I came over to his apartment because he sounded sick, and he was getting a massage from a girl who looked like Kylie Minogue.
     I was going to give Sarah Vowell's sister a ride home from a seminar, but she decided to hang out with her sister instead. I wanted to hang out with Sarah Vowell as well, because that would be badass, but they told me it was a sisters-only thing.


     I got a birthday card for Alex's nephew, and I wrote a poem on it, but I put the wrong name. I felt like shit. Then I was driving Alex around and I noticed he looked a little sheepish. I asked what happened, and he said he peed his pants.
     Then I was at Lincoln Square Mall (the local depressingly deserted mall that I remember from my childhood) and there was an Eddie Bauer. The manager thought I worked there, and she came up to warn me about a lady who was walking around the store and trying to sell "mustaches for lasses". I found a doll who was wearing the same plaid coat that I own. A few minutes after that, the mustaches-for-lasses lady came up to me. I pretended to be interested, and then she told me that an employee named Steve was considering buying one (in order to persuade me, I suppose). I suggested we go over and talk to Steve so I'd be able to slip away and tell the manager. It turned out to be none other than the Steve I regrettably dated a few years ago. I asked him to help me out, and he did. They caught the woman, escorted her out, and then journalists came and took pictures of Steve and me for the paper.


More fun with the shuffle feature on iTunes:

We Are Not a Football Team by Minus the Bear, followed by We Are the Sleepyheads by Belle & Sebastian:

We are not a football team, we are the sleepyheads.

I love when it does that!