Man, you know you're destined to the good life when you're kicked out of a Mary Kay party.

Anyway, cold as a meat locker in my room today, and soon I'm just going to go out into the artic tundra which is Wisconsin, for the explict purpose of buying a cartful of drugs and a two-dollar pizza, the latter of which will be consumed entirely by me. I don't know why I had to get a cold tailing my flu, but so it goes--maybe it's because I don't believe in eating vitamins or something. So it's NyQuil and sudafed and everything is groovy, I guess.

Purchased one of Mick Harvey's two solo albums on Friday. I keep on having to spend money over and over, and it's all my fault for downloading one or two Mick Harvey mp3s and realizing that I couldn't understand how I could live without hearing his solo stuff. Bought Intoxicated Man, and I'm just going to have to invest in Pink Elephants next paycheck. At least there's only two to play catch-up with. It should be in on Monday, and the EN cds should be in hopefully soon.

Also in dire need of more Tom Waits and a Crime and the City Solution album or two. I'm taking donations. You know you need a friend with a perfect music collection. Yes, I'm still on honeymoon with Nocturama, we've just agreed that seeing other people is fine.

Man, why do I get into all these folks no one's ever heard of, and I STILL don't know the difference between LL Cool J and 2-Pac? Just today someone got the usual "I thought he was dead... oh, wait, that's 2-Pac." I do that every time.

Only one more week til break here. Midterms next week may mean someone's eventual demise, but I'm not so worried as some, and I'm still not doing an awful lot of homework here. Indeed, I'm not doing a great deal more than being a general shiftless layabout. Of course, it doesn't help that half my professors are the same sort of lazy bum, and they're not putting a great deal of effort into the midterm camp in the first place. Two papers (one a one-pager) and a bunch of reading and a speaking test in Japanese. That's it, actually. So it's all back to me laying about and napping. Dreaming of nyquil...

Other news? Well, while the Pope isn't the best writer, he's still a hell of a lot more interesting than Aristotle.