...suspended in his fingers...

I'm not sure, exactly, what it is I am doing (or not doing, as the case may be). But whatever it is, I can't be doing it right because, well look at me. Hardly the poster child for emotionally successful.

Phil Booth was completely useless today. Unless he was absolutely correct and his line of reaping the benefits of my lessons implies that there needs to be a direct action taken on my part. I'm not doing anything active at the moment. It could be I need wine. I am sure I need half a dozen things.

Re: public bathrooms. Lock the door. Please. Oh please, for the love of god lock the door. You're in university, at the greatest institution in this country. At least pretend that you got in here for good reason.

I am waiting for Farnam and fire. I have an invite to a party on Saturday, I want to bail on a party on Friday, I want to be at the Rivoli right now, and Lula Lounge tomorrow night, also the premiere of PUBLICity. Notice how nowhere in the next few days is there time for me to write the three essays that still beckon perilously.