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.
It�s 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 haven�t heard this album in maybe eight months; it seldom suits my mood. Really, it doesn�t suit any mood. It�s a thoughtful party album. It�s funky but might make you cry. It�s spare and noisy, beautiful and obnoxious. It�s everything. The only mood it suits is one of both receptivity and action. Perhaps you shouldn�t 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 I�m 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. It�s damn scary out there. Anyway, none of this week�s projected events will make for very interesting webby content�so maybe I�ll have to make something up.
I did have an absolutely awful dream last night, so icky I don�t want to discuss the details of it, which involved my father telling me I was a horrible person. This evening�s 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 � like, before midnight.
And �History Lesson Part II� comes on right as I finish this.