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2005-01-13 - 11:11 a.m.

"When your friends they do come prying
Tell 'em now your pleasure's set upon slow release."

Finally got the new Interpol. I really like the second track and have trouble listening to the rest. That's just so far. I'll give it a fair shot.

Man, have I been sitting at this desk for a long time. I'm turning in my big boulder of a thesis project tomorrow. A first complete draft. The first big deadline. My guy's seen most of it, in pieces, but this is the first time I get to drop a thick snatch of paper on his desk and after that I told myself I'd go out and drink a lot and possibly talk to girls who aren't my girlfriend, even though my girlfriend will be sitting next to me.

And it's end-of-the-world warm here. May warm in some January. Ocean currents do strange things to weather, I guess. Reminds me of Michael Keaton, who I saw on Letterman last week sometime. Not only was he half-crazy, but he also professed his love for meteorology in as many ways as a half-crazy person would. I kind of liked him. He seemed like the kind of guy who'd leave a fake pile of poo in your fridge if he stayed over for the holidays.

OK, so I'm getting this thing done. Fifteen essays. Two need endings. One needs another look. Then I need to arrange them, finally. And hit control-P and whap it on my guy's desk.

And Saturday: Steelers play at 4. Then The Life Aquatic. Then beer.

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