Great Flick

Tonight I joined my bf's mother, brother and sister-in-law for dinner and a movie. We went to the Natural Cafe for grub and saw "Mad Hot Ballroom," a great flick about NYC fifth graders who compete in ballroom dancing. Highly recommend it.

Last Paper of Last Class EVER!

I'm done. Actually, to quote my mother, I'm "finished," as turkeys are done, not people. So I'm finished with the paper that nearly killed me. What an interesting psychological struggle that was! And so unnecessary.

Tonight I will pop a cork to celebrate my completed course work!!

Stop Complaining.

I will heed my own advice soon enough. I'm still chipping away at this ice block, hoping to form a presentable sculpture for my advisor. I'm ready for a break.

Oh, Muse of Composition!

I am currently piecing together the very last term paper I will ever have to write for a class on textual analysis (see for dated course description). Two years of course work and easily composed papers to match have passed. Now I am left with one LAST damned composition for a grade and I'm struggling. It's nearly two in the afternoon and I'm still in my pjs contemplating the rhetorical tone of page three. I'm considering playing with the margins in these final hours of paper non-completion. I call to thee, oh muse of term papers! Send me something to supplement the bullshit I am now pretending is academic prose!! **head falls in shame**curtains close**end of scene**

Email Downgrade

I've used Yahoo! email for about six years as my primary account. Never once have I had a complaint--until now. They changed the format/interface of their email and it stinks. I wrote to Yahoo! to express my dislike of the new setup and asked to be changed back to the older version. Not an option. I don't like it. Not one bit. Humph.

I See What's In Your Drawers

This is my first blog experience and I can't shake the feeling that having a random cyber entity read my jottings is like a stranger riffling through my dresser. I suppose that's the point though. If my drawers were neat and tidy, it wouldn't be as fun to leave my apartment unlocked and hope for someone to sneak in and poke through my underwear. I'm not sure where this is going. I guess I'm giving permission--and perhaps encouraging--everyone to look at my intimate apparell? Am I airing my laundry--clean and dirty? Whatever my purposes here, not to mention yours, enjoy nosing about. After all, I can see what's in your drawers too, yes?