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Tuesday, Sept. 23, 2003 - 8:47 p.m.

Parts that may give you a general sense of the whole:

The smell of McDonald’s is emanating from my neighbor’s apartment. It is not the smell of food from McDonald’s; it is the actual smell of a McDonald’s restaurant. It is her birthday, as I deduced from the screams of ‘Happy Birthday!!!’ in the hallway a few minutes ago. I think she is pulling fry baskets from the grease-filled bathtub at this moment. All her guests are wearing paper hats and headsets. It is a most ghastly theme party.

Remember several months ago when I mentioned that our drummer had acquired a concealed weapons permit and a gun? Well, said drummer has taken to referring to his gun as his ‘firearm’.

My paper grading rate today has been pretty good: 34 down, 17 to go.

Russell mentions that he detests the word ‘nourish’. I detest the word ‘thong’. I was furious when we moved to Colorado and I had to start referring to zoris as thongs in order to be understood.

I also hate the word ‘mature’, because there’s no good way to say it. Should it be pronounced with a dental, as in ‘muh-toor’? Dumb. With an affricate, as in ‘muh-choor’? Lame. Don’t even get me started on ‘muh-cherrr’.

I have seen the word ‘voila’ written ‘viola’ at least three times this week (though why my correspondents have been using this word en masse, I cannot tell you). I think this is an effective rhetorical strategy. We should start inserting names of orchestral instruments into our daily emails and conversations more regularly: “And there she is, folks! Bassoon!” or “I now unveil the new prototype! Timpani!”

Can I at least get a sympathy groan? No? Damn. A symphony groan, then? Should I have quit while I was ahead?

My attempts at yoga this evening were impeded by the cat, who was nurturing a deep affection for my feet. She curled up around them and repeatedly pressed her cold nose against my heels, purring.

I have to give a presentation this Friday at a colloquium hosted by my former department. I am most nervous (oooh; we should TOTALLY repopularize that ‘most + adjective’ construction, as in ‘most heinous’). The talk concerns my thesis, which I haven’t really looked at since I finished it. If my old advisor is in a grumpy mood, there is a good possibility she will be extremely vocal and obstinate during the question session, not because she dislikes me, but because she is a philosopher. This means I should not only be rereading my paper and all my original sources, but coming up with some new ideas as well – I should have some answers for the items I tossed into that ‘future research’ section. This will probably not happen.
If her spiky glare turns me into a pile of ashes, there will probably be no further posts here. I just thought you should know.

If, however, I DO survive, look for cosmetic updates next week. I’m getting’ me a Golden Ticket.

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