I drink coffee [too much, no less] and then it's go go go and write write write for longer than my body can stand.
I completely forgot about Andy Pressman et al until I saw his name in the paper this morning. Odd, but grand because it spiralled me back into his life[style].
It amazes me how I can write the worst essay ever and still pull off a spectacular mark. It makes me feel dirty and undeserving but... I guess that's all it takes. When it's a novel I've read 305940359 times, how could I not write at least a competent essay, right? Or something. As punishment, I'm putting a trillion times the effort into this essay as I did the last one.
I may be silly, but I just adore my professor. Not in the professor-student-love-affair sense. Rather, I enjoy his teaching style and techniques so much, it's almost too perfect. He is just too grand [ha! read: Marxist ?]. He is justifying my ambition to go back to school by making me interested again.
The genius of Jones Soda: the selectable labels and the surprise fortune cookie-esque bottle caps. Seriously! Today's lid: Prosperity and love are within reach. Ha! Yes, if only I'd actually talk to Mr. Lust. Anyone have an anti-chicken elixir?
I haven't much to say. Just typical silly stuff that is the usual content of this place. Time for change?
I'm going to Winnipeg, I think. I AM going to Winnipeg. Just for my own sanity and security and to figure out exactly what it is about that city that I'm drawn to. I hope it works out and doesn't bomb into a horrible travel experience. But I doubt it. It will be ideal.
The Snitches were fabulous on Wednesday. I was expecting them to be wonderful, but not spectacular. They were. Blow me away. I want to see them again right now. They're just that kind of band. Sweet ecstasy. Ex stasis. And The Supers tonight... A good good rock n roll week. [Lister, By Divine Right as well]. Classic, even. And Cuff the Duke next week... and Pop Shove Its... and The Datsons [er, the Datson Four]. Run Chico Run. The Busboyeez. etc etc etc ad nauseum. Delicious.
'It's finally my turn, damnit!'
