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Brent
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Monday, Sept. 29, 2003 - 7:19 p.m.

Homemade pizza dough rising
Double Nickels on the Dime
A martini
A newly-washed sofa slipcover.

I am certain these four things have never before in the history of the world been the exact four ingredients dictating perfect happiness, but right now that is exactly what they are. Goddamn, it feels good here in my apartment.

Itís getting colder here, finally, and I love it.

I continue to struggle with my classes, and they continue to snooze. Today I brought in copies of a terrible argument, a letter to the editor I clipped last year because its grasp of audience and pathos and its lack of warrants were so abysmal. I think I may have been shouting at one point towards the end of class, I was so swept up in the horrors of the argument at hand. I guess they were awake for at least those five minutes.

Okay, go listen to the Minutemen RIGHT NOW. I havenít heard this album in maybe eight months; it seldom suits my mood. Really, it doesnít suit any mood. Itís a thoughtful party album. Itís funky but might make you cry. Itís spare and noisy, beautiful and obnoxious. Itís everything. The only mood it suits is one of both receptivity and action. Perhaps you shouldnít listen to it right now, at least not until you make some pizza dough, mix a drink, and clean your living room.

This week is filled with little detaily activities and meetings: nothing intellectually straining, but more to do than Iím accustomed to. I have to find some health insurance; my student plan lapses in a few weeks, and though I have not been to the dentist in four years and the doctor in about two, I need at least some kind of catastrophe coverage. Itís damn scary out there. Anyway, none of this weekís projected events will make for very interesting webby contentÖso maybe Iíll have to make something up.

I did have an absolutely awful dream last night, so icky I donít want to discuss the details of it, which involved my father telling me I was a horrible person. This eveningís mood seems to have eliminated the ick, but I am concerned for my subconscious nonetheless. Send me happy thoughts around bedtime tonight. As I have to meet with a football player early tomorrow morning about his really shitty paper, bedtime should be pretty early Ė like, before midnight.

And ďHistory Lesson Part IIĒ comes on right as I finish this.

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