food, computers, dreams, writing, and food (in that order)

Red meat is a wonderful thing. So is having groceries in the house.

One of my students apparently has a blog. Now I want to find it, but I was unsuccessful in stalking him, so I'll have to ask tomorrow. He's 7. When I was 7, we had to wait for the server (which was a large box on a table in the corner) to go around and load each Apple IIe in the lab (two people to a computer) so we could play green monochrome Reader Rabbit with pixels the size of Legos. My little brother's generation doesn't remember life without computers.

I had one of my psycho dreams last night. Diana and Zach were both prominently featured, so if you guys are reading this, my subconscious says "hi." There were opera auditions on a boat and I wasn't even auditioning but I ended up getting a non-singing part because the director liked me and I was somehow also helping re-write it and there were pirates both in the opera and around the boat and I kept losing my clothing in the waves and climbing these things on the interior and exterior of the boat that were kind of like fire escapes. Lots more weird crap, but perhaps that is enough for those of you who aren't me.

I'm trying to follow through with all of my half-finished projects, particularly my article. I bought Esquire and Vanity Fair so I can get the tone to write them pitches. Get this motherfucker sold already so I can actually write the final thing and be an accomplished human being. Much of this has been inspired by my starting to write a musical (sans-music...that's Brian's job) and needing to believe it won't be just another permanently in-progress project, though having a second person holding me accountable should help tremendously.

Hannah's away message on AIM today reminded me of the time on North Pleasant when we microwaved Peeps and they caught on fire and ended up in a fascinatingly gross little pool on the plate that then sat there for months before we threw it out. Good times, good times.

Why are there no chocolate covered pretzels in my apartment?