The weekend, etc.

After the qual and lunch, I headed home. I probably should have slept, but Bryan was in town and I wanted to get some quality time with him. We hung out for a bit, Lisa joined us when she was through, and then we used peer pressure to make Bryan go clothes shopping. Lisa went to take care of some stuff, and Bryan and I hit up Best Buy. I picked up some CD-Rs and the Final Fantasy I & II compilation for Gameboy (which has been a joy; that game takes me back to my childhood) and investigated car stereos for Rebecca and speaker stands for Stephanie.

We met Lisa for dinner at The Ambassador which was a very enjoyable meal. We dropped Lisa off and were going to go for drinks, but instead stopped by Jeff's (with a 12 pack of Shiner) to check out his new Moog. I played through a song or two with he and Vince, which was a lot of fun. I need to figure out the right way to play keyboard for rock. It didn't help that the Moog was monophonic, but who cares when it sounds so cool? It's MIDI enables, so we can route it through a computer to get some more traditional instrumental sounds out of it, and then maybe I can play some chords, too.

I was pretty dead, so Bryan took me back. I stayed up long enough, though, to watch "The OC" (this week's episode was very enjoyable), "The North Shore" (I should have never started watching that crap) and the consistently lackluster "Life As We Know It". I'm glad I've got all of my guilty pleasures wrapped into one night—well, except for "Desperate Housewives".

I showed up at school the next day for lab meeting—that took will power. I hung for a while, because I was going to take Jeff to the airport, but I felt like crap, as I've been having some big allergy issues this week. I came home and did some TV watching and Final Fantasy playing.

I joined Graham and Kennedy for Star Pizza and beer, and Graham was very generous and picked up the tab in honor of my achievement. Cousin Jer was supposed to joing us, but ended up wussing out. I've had a big week, too, but you don't see me letting it get in the way of life. I stuck around Woodrow's for a while, and after Graham and Kennedy left, I fulfilled my lifetime ambition of having an entire pitcher of Shiner to myself, drinking it straight from the pitcher. It was a classless act that I've always wanted to do. I didn't really have that much beer (10? 12?), but the volume was sufficient to make me hurt a little. Thankfully, Bryan was across the street and drove my drunk ass hoome. It's nice to have the opportunity to be irresponsible on occasion:



Saturday, I ran some errands with Stephanie. I picked up the first two Lemony Snicket books (which, at $11 each and quite short, will be quite an expensive habit), and went to look at Ikea as part of an effort to find a new CD storage system. I wasn't entirely happy with the results. I guess I'm never going to find my Platonic ideal of a storage system. Here's the one I looked at at Ikea:



We got some Freebird's for dinner, and Steph's friend's boyfriend was working, so we got the free burrito hookup. We rented Spider-Man 2 (which I am dutifully copying thanks to the new PowerBook), which remained thoroughly enjoyable.

I didn't do much on Sunday—laundry, mostly. I still wanted to address my goal of cleaning out my closets and then doing a thorough cleaning of my apartment before my return to Waco on the 22. Let you know how that went later...

The Qual

So I was very, very nervous about this go at the qualifer. I was uncertain as to whether I had completely addressed my committee's concerns, and though I had tried to study up on anything they would ask, it's impossible to know everything, and they can literally ask me anything they want. It was way early, too.

I went in and gave my spiel; they stopped me several times for questions, and some of them were just so obscure or off-topic that I didn't have good answers. The biologists, in particular, asked questions that just weren't relevant and that even people who spent their lives working in the field would probably have to look up. They asked me to step through some basic experimental details; some of the questions were very picky, and some were downright insulting to my intelligence.

When it came to defending my original idea, I had implemented my proposed technique to prove that it would, in fact, work. They then had many questions about why I hadn't tested this situation or that situation—in the end, things that I would only do were I actually performing the project.

The entire process was just absurd. I was very worried when they sent me out in the hall. When I came back in, though, they told me they were giving me a "soft pass", and that they wanted to see a more thorough command of the literature, and that they would have liked for me to have been more convincing that I could perform what I was proposing. Yeah, those things would have been nice. But that's what I'm here in graduate school to learn, and I'm not going to be ready to run my own lab after one year in the program. You checked the little box that said I passed, so just leave me alone. I'm going to get that piece of paper framed.

This entire process was a horrible experience that my time at BCM had ill-prepared me for. I'm pretty sure that I was given a much more difficult time than most people, and it would be nice to know why. The Boss said (not to me, of course—God forbid I get any positive reinforcement) that they were very hard on me. We went out for a lab lunch afterwards, and he said to me, "Good job. Er, I mean, congratulations. We'll talk later." So much for the positive reinforcement. I told him that I felt it went much better than the last go, and that I knew what went wrong.

I'm ready to start repressing these memories now.

The show

Thanks to Houston's newest booking agency, the Magnetic Fields came to Houston. They played not one, but two shows (early and late), both seated, at Numbers. Jeff and I decided to go to both, because who knows if they'll ever be back again?

I expected that one or both of the shows would sell out, and I was surprised to see them both at about 60% capacity (300 seats available). I thought if they had planned on two shows, there must have been enough demand to justify them both.

Opener Darren Hanlon sang witty pop songs in his Australian accent; his writing style was a bit gimicky, but he pulled it off well.

As for the Fields, they weren't exactly what I expected. Frontman Stephin played ukulele (an instrument for which I have recently gained a new appreciation). From his music, I had gotten the idea that he would be more outgoing and have lots of stage banter; instead, he was a bit shy, quite surly, and a more than a little arrogant (which makes sense). Female vocalist Claudia played piano, as well as doing backing and occasional lead vocals. As the most outgoing (loosely speaking), she was responsible for most of the stage banter. John and Sam played guitar/banjo and cello and never spoke.

There was quite an air of pretension. Midway through one song, Stephin stopped, said that "he couldn't play like this" and requested that a fan be turned off which was a figment of his imagination; he settled for asking the bartenders to be quieter. In "Papa Was A Rodeo" he placed particular emphasis on the lines about "What are we doing in this dive bar?" and "How can you live in a place like this?". There was also the classic "We don't take requests."

It got worse in the second show; they asked the crowd to be quiet and at the end of one song, Stephin left the stage, went to the very back of the club, and told a table of people to "please shut up." He then returned to the stage and told them that if they wanted to leave, he would gladly refund their money. Claudia tried to excuse his actions, mentioning that they had, only two weeks ago, played Carnegie Hall. Stephin told her "not to apologize for that". I know that they want to be respected and have their art appreciated, but I expect them to be grateful for fan support. It's hard to have a mutual atmosphere of respect when one party seems bitter about having to play an old disco in Houston.

The general surliness of the band aside, their first show probably now ranks pretty highly on my not-yet-composed list of the best concerts that I've seen. I can't think of another band that did such an excellent job of projecting the fragile, tragic beauty of life and love. The instrumentation was perfect for the atmosphere of the songs. It was wonderful to hear a real piano for a change. The guitar and banjo playing was excellent without being showy. The cello—have I mentioned that I've long held the belief that my ideal woman, in addition to being a redhead, would also play the cello?—was just absolutely gorgeous. It was deep and rich; mournful but beautiful. The ukulele was icing on the proverbial cake. Stephin's rich bass vocals were absolutely beautiful and blended very well with Claudia's backing vocals.

The instrumentation was at times very different from the recorded versions of the songs; songs that had goofy synth work and reverb, or songs that had a tin-pan alley music casuality on the albums became beautiful chamber pop pieces. I'd love to have a live release from this tour. I think that the instrumentation, as recorded, gets in the way of some of the songs, and that didn't happen live.

How many shows have I been to that have been this emotionally affecting? Probably just the ones where the band's songs held a certain sentimental importance to me. Certainly, this hasn't happened at any show where I had such a passing familiarity with the band (except, perhaps, the Spree, but they're an exception to many things).

Highlights for me were "Papa Was A Rodeo", "Come Back From San Francisco", "Reno Dakota", "The Book of Love", "A Pretty Girl Is Like…", "I Don't Believe You", "It's Only Time" and "Yeah. Oh Yeah". I've got some new favorite songs.

Here's a couple of pictures taken from the second show, when they performed "Yeah. Oh Yeah":





That's Claudia on the left, Stephin at various points in the middle, and John and Sam hanging back.

Q-day, again

It's tomorrow at 9:00. After my attempts at positive thinking and confidence failed to do me any good last time, I'm finding it hard to summon them up for round 2. I feel pretty powerless—either I addressed their concerns satisfactorily and they're ready to rubber stamp me, or they're going to nail me on something else I didn't foresee—it's entirely up to them.

Wish me luck that it's the former. Thoughts, vibes, and prayers all appreciated. I hope I'm feeling very relieved 17 hours from now.

Beautiful. Wonderful. Fantastic.

The two Magnetic Fields shows on Saturday were excellent. I'll write a full post on them later, but suffice it to say, not many shows can achieve that level of emotional impact.

I've decided to try the whole long-sleeve-undershirt-with-t-shirt look, despite my fears that it's a bit too frattish for me. I kind of like it, and it makes my t-shirt wardrobe more versatile for winter (or what passes for it in this crazy city).



I happened to notice on that Ukulele Girl was playing the Proletariat on Sunday night, so of course I had to go. Plus, Sunday at the P is $1.50 Shiners. Rock. I said high to UG before her set; she remembered me, which was nice, and comlimented me on my Postal Service shirt. Her set was, as usual, very enjoyable. She had made some "reprints" of the CD that she used to sell through mp3.com, and as the title was Fun With Fingerpaints, she hand fingerpainted the CD labels, which was a fun touch, although it probably risks gumming up CD players. I only had to use it enough to get it ripped, and now I have a cool momento. Jeff and I talked to her briefly, and she thanked us for helping her to be able to eat. We talked about the Fields show from the night before. The disc also had a CD-ROM session on it that had some comments about her songs that I found interesting (most of them were in reference to some boy or another, in particular).

Jeff and I stuck around for a jazzy-sort of combo that started out interesting and quickly dissolved into wankery. I somehow got the idea that I really needed to buy a theremin, but, for better or worse, there are no good cheap ones to be found on eBay, placing the instrument outside of the impulse buy range. UG's boyfriend was around; we're now pretty sure that that's what, in fact, he is, as he got uke-carrying duties.

The man wears a vest. Not a sweater vest, but like a vest you'd wear with a suit. I've consulted a couple people, and the consensus seems to be that this is legitimate ground for me to hat this man without the risk that it's being colored by the inconvenience of his choice of relationships. Jeff thinks he looks like Count Olaf from the Lemony Snicket movie, which is probably a pretty good description.

After saying good bye to UG, we hit up Late-Nite Pie again (the pizza seemed better this time). I was probably out too late, so I thought I wouldn't need something to help me sleep, but I did not sleep well last night. Thankfully, it turned out that Olivier was out of town, so after grabbing some articles from the library (how quaint), I came home and took a short nap before returning to my studies.

I'm having trouble summoning up enthusiasm for this. I've never been particularly enthusiastic about this idea that I've developed, and I'm tired of pretending as if I am. If I had a lot of good research ideas, I wouldn't have much to learn in graduate school. I also can't help but feel that they've basically got their minds made up, one way or the other, and my giving a twenty minute presentation and taking a half hour's worth of questions isn't accomplishing anything other than making my life difficult. It's almost over, though.

So close to being over. Ambien's kicking in. I've got a Fields post mostly written up that I'll put up after I give it another editing pass.

I get points for trying, right?

"Angry Drunk Ward" is a bit of a misnomer. It's more along the lines of "Gets His Feelings Hurt Easily Drunk Ward". He made an appearance on Friday night, and things went downhill after midnight.

The Graduate Student Council hosted the usual end of term happy hour at a place downtown, so I after I put on the long-sleeve orange shirt, as suggested by Becca, I met Char at his place and we walked the several blocks to the rail station and took the train downtown. We ran into the Genetics Girls on the train (see my previous dancing experience).

So, if you run a bar downtown, more often than not, you have a dance floor, too. In this case, there was a more pub-like room downstairs, and a more club-like room upstairs, which was where we could take advantage of our extended happy hour pricing. Of course, most of the girls soon moved upstairs to the dance floor.

So things with the ladies went none-too-well that night. There was the German post-doc who seemed nice, but decided that she much preferred dancing with Char. There was also Former Cheerleader (hereafter FC, also girl A from the above-referenced post) whom I thought seemed more friendly and touchy than usual (though she was, by her own admission, shit-faced). She had been buying drinks for Char and some other girl, apparnetly trying to "help him out" with the other girl, until I informed her that Char had a girlfriend and did not, in fact need her help.

Later, I was out on the balcony with her and some others when one of the Genetics girls (girl B from the previous post) politely informed me that I should "back [the fuck] off" as FC was "working something" with "one of the other guys who was out there". It was at that point that, in my drunken state, my resiliency took a vacation and my mood headed south. I left the balcony and went downstairs for a while; whether that was the right thing to do, I'm not sure. I sure felt like slapping that bitch, though, and in retrospect I wish I had done something to indicate that I wasn't going to let her push me around.

Thankfully, I didn't have to suffer the indignity of seeing FC run off with somebody else, as she soon after retired to the bathroom for th rest of the evening. Not so good for her, but better than some of the laternatives. We continued to hang around for a while. Secretary Wanda showed up, randomly, not knowing there was a graduate school event going on (something which is becoming a pattern). I wandered around being pissy.

Eventually, we left (I never saw FC after the bathroom incident), and Char got us a ride with the German post-doc (who had gotten more annoying as she got more drunk; probably better I didn't put all my eggs in that basked) and her friends. First, though, we had to track down her car to get her friend's keys. After following her directions and ending up back where we started, the girl that was driving and I (the most sober of the five) were about ready to give up, as she wasn't able to provide street names or landmarks, but she got it right on the second try, and they drove us back to Char's. In Char's words, "we fell into a weird crowd."

I did have a conversation with Tiffany, who was lookiing for a roommate. It sounded kind of appealing, I'll admit. I'd save at least $300 a month, sometimes it sounds nice to have another person around, she has a dog, and she has a piano. On the other hand, I've gotten accustomed to my privacy, I'd lose my convenient transportation to school, and, most importantly, this could severly cut down on my opportunities to rock out. I'd have to break my lease, but I'd break even on the deal after a month or two of paying lower rent. I don't think I'll do it, but I'll at least consider it.

So, once again, I am taught the lesson that sometimes, I just need to chill the fuck out. I'm working on it. I've gotten signifcantly better since the first few times that Angry Drunk Ward showed his head. I don't expect it to happen again, but I'm allowed to make mistakes, right? All things considered, I'm sure it wasn't an awful evening. I just felt like it. Maybe I should accept that that's not the right environment for me to look for female companionship. But it works for so many other people, so it's almost an issue of pride.

Scissor Sisters; free food

So, I went and saw the Scissor Sisters play their Elton John-esque ballads and gay disco dance rock numbers on Monday night. I hadn't really listened to them, except for a cursory run through their album on Monday morning, and that always hurts a live show for me, but they were a lot of fun. Great stage presence, great banter, great beats. I haven't gotten that close to dancing at a show since, oh, when the Plan played Austin, or maybe even the first time I saw a full Spree show. The crowd was varied; people ranging from transexuals to frat boys, and I was more taken aback by the latter than the former.

Work-wise, I've been informed that it's time to resume doing research. Haveing not really thought about such things over the last few months, I need to reaquaint myself with my work. I'm also doing a little review of a topic to present to the lab, and then I've gots to be prepared for the redefense next week. I've also still got that little qualifier re-exam thing hanving over my head.

I made Jennifer come over on Monday night to help me, finally, hang my ultra-sexy Death Cab for Cutie hand silk-screened poster:



And, because the ol' Wardlog has been a bit text heavy lately, here's the large menorah outside the Jewish wing that I mentioned earlier:



I stopped by to see Webmistress Amy on Tuesday, as she had lent me some CDs (Cocteau Twins, Mogwai) and I returned the favor by burning a few for her (an extra copy of OK Computer to replace her scratched one; Pet Sounds, the Greatest Album Ever Made; and the Ward Special Edition of the Postal Service's Give Up, because everybody needs the Postal Service in their life). As usual, she offered me a ride home, and I accepted, on the condition that she recognize that I didn't just come to see her for her parking spot, and was she sure she didn't mind? The ride home was good; I think I managed to project a little extra Ward Charm. I still haven't decided if she does this because she wants to spend time with me, or if she's simply projecting her extreme hatred of buses onto me.

Wednesday was the Day of Free Food. We had a noon seminar with lunch provided, and then last night was our SCBMB holiday party at El Tiempo. I hadn't eaten there—there's so many good Mexican places I know about that it's hard to get around to trying new ones—but I thought the food was really good. They had a fajita buffet for us, and the fajita meat all seemed to be a particularly good cut, and very juicy. They had a great green sauce. The margaritas were quite strong, and Char managed to collect some spare drink tickets from those who were not partaking, so I got a good start on my evening.

I had intended to return home and go to bed early, but the first-years (Anup, David, and Oliver) called me, and once I realized that both Char and Graham had backed out, I realized that I had to represent for the second-years. I met them up at Two Row's for dollar beer night. You can't beat that, unless you go across the street to Woodrow's for big ass beer night (and darts, which we did), but the quantity gains are minimal and the quality losses quite perceptible.

So now I'm trying to get motivated to put my presentation together for my re-exam. Time to start caring again...

Stephanie and Jennifer have ditched me and our weekly viewing of the OC in favor of the CMB holiday party, so I guess I'll be watching TV alone tonight. Maybe I should turn out the lights and drink vodka straight from the bottle to complete the effect.

The big date, though they're all big when they're this rare

I've felt particularly happy today. I like to think I'm always happy, or at least that I manage it most of the time, though apparently, by contrast, the last few months haven't been shining examples of that.

Maybe it's feeling relieved that my paper's done. It's a little early for that; I still need to do the re-exam. Maybe it's that I got to do some real work today, something that's not just jumping through hoops for my exam committee. Maybe it's the new jeans (when did I start to like clothes?), like in that Old Navy commercial. Could it be that, entering school through the Jewish wing today, I saw the installation of the large metal menorah sculpture for Hanukah?

I'm going to see the Scissor Sisters tonight, at Jeff's request. I sort of hate to blow $20 on the ticket and then another $10 on drinks, but hell, I've never regretted going out for a show before. I'd probably end up blowing the evening on DVRed episodes of "The Simpsons" anyway.

So I guess there was some sort of thing that went on Saturday night that I should tell you about. She called me about 7:00 to make sure I was still in for dinner, and we decided on Ninfa's. She came and picked me up (now there's a nice change of pace). Things were a bit awkward, but not anywhere near what normal first date levels are for me (or at least were, on the few occasions that occured during college, but then again, we're dealing with a small sample size here, so who's to say what's normal?). She was very talkative, which made my life significantly easier.

When the check came, she offered to split it with me, but I was a man and picked it up. Refreshingly, she insisted on taking care of drinks later. We hadn't really established post-dinner plans, but she asked me if I wanted to go meet up with some of her friends at a bar. It turned out the bar was really more of a resteraunt, so we didn't stick around for long before she decided we should go somewhere else somewhere "quiet and cozy".

She eventually came up with La Carafe, downtown, which I had heard good things about. The place was really nice—candle-lit, very dark and intimate. We ordered wine. We were talking about movies, and she mentioned The Motorcycle Diaries and asked me to see it with her.

Then, seeming a little conflicted about saying so, she started talking about how she just last week broke up with a boy whom she had been seeing casually for a couple of years, and didn't want to date anyone right now. She told me that she wanted to be straight with me. It was cool for us to "hang out" though, as long as I knew that.

This, after going out of her way to mention that she was OK with dating younger men (she's six years older), taking me to this romantic place, talking about going to see a movie. It's tempting to think that it's just a matter of semantics—that if she still wants to spend one-on-one time with me, it won't really make a difference, and she'll either like me or she won't, and I'll either like her or I won't. I know if I found the right girl, it wouldn't matter whether I was looking for her or not, I'd give it a shot.

Then again, I've used that excuse in the past when what I really meant was, "I'm not interested in you." And there was the part how she said something like, "Don't get me wrong, I think you're a great guy, but I just don't want to date anybody right now." That sounds a lot like she was trying to let me down easy. I wish I could remember the specifics, but they're a bit of a blur—I didn't exactly realize what was happening until we were half-way through the conversation.

Things settled back into normalcy. I joined her in smoking a cigarette (she's a bit of a smoker, but not a heavy one; she says she's going to quit and sounds sincere, though Lord knows I've heard that before). We talked about the arts; she's an artist by training. It's wonderful to go out with someone so interested in those things. The ride home was actually probably the best part—listening to and talking about music, and the conversation was very comfortable for a while. We got back to my complex, she hugged me, and we parted.

So, in summary. I probably wasn't at at my best (though I was wearing the chocolate cords), but she seemed to like me. I would have been completely pleased if not for the little "I'm not dating anyone" speech. When it comes to interpreting that, I don't know which way to swing. Any thoughts from my readers? I've been trying to chill about it, and remember that this is very early on and maybe she'll want to date me or maybe she won't, and maybe I'll want to date her and maybe I won't. On the other hand, I don't have other prospects right now. Online dating's looking better and better every day... OK Ward. Just be cool. Be cool.

Weekend o' adventure

Spoon brought appropriate amounts of the rock on Thursday night. The show was solid if not spectacular; I seem to remember being more impressed when I saw them open up for Belle & Sebastian. Perhaps I'm bitter they didn't play "Chicago at Night", but they played everything else I wanted to hear, and some new stuff as well. The material from Kill The Moonlight was less sparse and minimalistic, which I found interesting. The songs were still good, but lost some of what made them special. Still, that minimalism relied on a feeling of open space, both physical, acoustic space, and silence between the notes, and that would be hard to capture on stage. I didn't catch much of the first opener, but the second, Cub Country, did some competent if not particularly innovative country. I also indulged in a Texas Tea for the first time in a while, one of the few things that can knock me on my ass pretty quickly.

I had obtained permission to take Friday morning off, and managed to only be around for an hour and a half before I took off for the Keck seminar. I headed on over to Rice, enjoying a chance to walk in the cool weather with the iPod. Post-seminar, we had a Keck Fellows meeting. These have, by and large, been pretty useless, but they do have food for us, and there always seems to be too much of it. I scored half of a sandwich tray and half of a dessert tray to take home with me. I called in a favor with Stephanie and had her come pick Jeff and me up. She still owes me a few.

I took Jeff back meet Vincent for their weekly jam session. I stuck around, feeling mostly useless, but enjoyed the chance to play Vincent's bass a bit and sing on a couple of songs (Neutral Milk Hotel's "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea", the Animals' "House of the Rising Sun", and "I Will Survive" a la Cake). I've been wanting to buy an instrument and rock out on the music creation side of things for some time, and this did nothing but encourage me.

I proceeded over to the Ginger Man to meet up with Graham, Char, &c., taking the time to call Webmistress Amy on the way to confirm our planned "hanging out" on Saturday. I had mentioned, in an e-mail, that we should "hang out" after I got the paper in; I was pleased that she was forward enough to go ahead and suggest that we plan on Saturday. She suggested dinner, and I agreed.

When I arrived at the Ginger Man (first beer: Old Speckled Hen; second: Maredsous #8), after turning down an invitation for Saturday night, Kennedy (of Graham & Kenenedy) pounced on my mention of a "date", assaulting me with questions and advice. I appreciate the interest in what little love life I have, but it was overzealous.

We went to Woodrow's afterwards, and I visited with Will a bit. Some rather annoying girl with a camera who was in town because her boyfriend was having surgery in the medical center struck up a conversation with us because she was there alone. I wanted to go home and play Metroid, but I didn't want to make Will suffer through it alone, so I stuck around for a while.

During those particular goings on, I was fortunate enough to be able to remotely share in Sabrina's bachelorette party. That was the first drunk dial I'd received (in general and from Sabrina) in quite some time, which says something. And apparently my ears should have been burning...

I headed to the Gap on Saturday to take advantage of the 30% discount Kristin hooked me up with. Since I'm still managing to lose weight, I'm constantly in need of new clothing, so I took the chance to stock up. In addition to picking up the standard jeans and khakis, I grabbed a pair of chocolate-brown courdoroys, which are wonderfully comfortable as well as sexy. In an unprecedented display of branching out, I bought a sweater, too. Savings: $50. Thanks Kristin.

When I got home, I started my crusade against the clutter that built up during the heat of exams. I beat back most of the clutter in my living room, and was inspired to start cleaning my closet by getting rid of some old clothes. I worked on that project until Amy showed up.

I'll save the details of the date for my next entry—might as well try to maintain some dramatic tension. If you must know, it was a sucess, I think, but not an unqualified one.

Another anticlimax

Paper's in, as of an hour and a half ago. I feel numb. I feel tired. But the O.C. is on tonight, and them I'm going to see Spoon. That's good. I've already informed the boss that I'm taking the morning off. Maybe I can squeeze some Metroid time in there as well.

There are other things I hope to accomplish. My apartment is in desperate need of a cleaning. I want to divest myself of material goods that I don't really want anymore—whatever junk is lying around the apartment that's not necessary, and the half or so of my wardrobe that I can no longer wear. Get rid of the clutter I've been staring at for the past month or five.

So where did I leave off? I worked on the paper a bit on Saturday, and then Jeff and I went to see I Heart Huckabees, because there gets to be a point where you know you can't force yourself to do any more work.

It was playing at the mythical Landmark Greenway. I have seen this theater list movies before. I have seen the marquise for this theater. But according to MapQuest, the theater was somewhere on the campus of this Greenway Plaza set of high-rise buildings and underground parking—no real telling where the actual theater was.

Somebody (Lisa?) had told me that they had attempted to see a movie there and couldn't find the theater. Somebody (maybe this one was Lisa, but it was probably some random school person) told me something about driving underground and then finding it. So Jeff and I set out to solve the mystery once and for all.

After driving around above ground for a while, narrowing down which underground entrance seemed to indicate that it granted access to the proper building number (3? 5?), we headed down. Somewhere, there was a sign that said, "Theater Parking". We parked, and proceded on foot.

If you've done much video gaming, you probably know of the Lost Woods in the Legend of Zelda. Every part of the map looked the same, and you had to know exactly which turns to take to get through them. Make a wrong turn, and you end back at the start. This was what I was reminded of as we searched. We saw an entrance to the proper building at some point, and it was locked. Eventually, we started to see movie posters. There was a fork in the road, and the posters went both ways. We picked a direction, and, eventually, found a box office. There was, in fact, an actual theater down there, seeming to defy the laws of real estate and physics—like when Homer finds the Krusty Burger on the oil platform out at sea.

I really liked the movie. I don't know that I would claim that it had any particular greatness, but it contained just the right amounts of existential absurdity (which is, FYI, a large amount), random philosophizing, and slapstick comedy. I'll buy the DVD.

Afterwards, we visited another mystical location that I had only recently seen with my own eyes: Late Nite Pie—that's pie as in pizza. It's the sort of place I had always dreamed existed, a pizza place that's open really late. Pizza by the slice was a fairly standard quality New York-style, comparable to Barris, perhaps, and maybe a bit on the expensive side. Pitchers of Shiner were, however, a perfectly reasonable $7. It's located on the edge of Montros, in an old garage. The garage doors were up the night we were there. I am now officially a huge fan.

Sunday, I worked on the paper.

Monday, I worked on the paper. Bryan picked me up from lab, and we went to Niko Niko's for dinner with Lisa. I had their Philly Cheese Steak on pita, which was very nice, and their Greek salad, of which I am a huge fan. I felt sick afterwards, though, and worried that I might have been catching something, and I couldn't really concentrate, so I took an Ambien and went to bed early.

Tuesday, I still felt sick, but I was beginning to wonder if it was just nerves. After lab meeting, I started to feel better. I was actually hoping to get sick at that point, because I was hoping for an extension on the paper. Stephanie called me that evening and demanded I carry a microwave from her car to her new condo. I staunchly refused on paper grounds. She didn't seem to understand the importance of me remaining in grad school and being available to move an untold number of microwaves in the future. I had Jeff help me with some math (and MATLAB) stuff that I'm not exactly familiar with, and was encouraged, yet annoyed, to find that what one of my committee members staunchly assured me was wrong was, in fact, right. But I was glad to know that I wasn't completely incompetent.

Work on the paper continued on Wednesday and finished today. Olivier sprung a meeting on me with a collaborator, so I had to stay here late, but I'm about to go catch the bus. Now for a well-deserved break. I just wish I could postpone the fun stuff until after a nap...