Further toward misogyny

Dana never called. Again. And her phone was off. For those of you keeping score at home, that works out to three missed dates: one excusable and regretful cancellation, and two completely unexcusable instances of no calling whatsoever. She better fucking be in a coma.

Those of you living outside of my head, no doubt, are thinking, "Ward, why didn't you just ignore this bitch after the first incident? And we hope to God that you've learned your lesson now. What the fuck are you thinking?"

I don't have a good answer to that, other than that I ain't got shit else going on. And I'm a person who tends to be optimistic about people. That, and when she does call, it seems to go well and she seems to have a genuine interest in me.

But were I in that situation, I don't care how fucking busy my life is, I could probably make time for a drink. Or at least explain that I didn't have time, but maybe in a couple of weeks... Or at least pick up the damned phone to cancel. And girls complain about guys not calling... Well, I'm two for three so far this year, pretty much.

Last night sucked. I will never again spend an evening waiting for a phone call. Never fucking again. I knew I should have gotten off the couch and gone and done something, but I just didn't want to. I was disappointed. Not really hurt; it's probably nothing to take personally, though it can't help but make me question why I can't get a damned thing going on. Outside of the obligatory high school relationship, and the two months of dating that crazy bitch, and a few scattered dates that don't count for shit, not a damned thing. I try, I really do.

I took an ambien before bed. I would have definitely had trouble sleeping, otherwise. I woke up in the morning, and had one of those mornings where I had no desire to get out of bed. Not because I was sleepy, but because I just didn't want to fucking deal with my day. That hasn't happened in a long time.

Fortunately, the wonderful world of bosslessness cheered me up a bit. I didn't feel like doing any actual work but did manage to get through four papers (OK, 3.5, but the fourth was a long ass review). Holly was sweet enough to inquire about the date and sweet enough to take me out for dinner to Jenni's Noodle House (Citysearch page) for dinner. I'd heard good things about it, both from friends, and from some random writeup Dad had seen. It wasn't spectacular, but I enjoyed my ginger ramen, and Holly was good company. The place had character (Friday night is feather boa night), and I'm willing to give it another shot.

So I mentioned that I'm trying desperately to find something about Lauren to convince me that maybe she's not as great as she seems. First, it's possible that we could end up going out only to find ourselves in some sort of passionless, flat relationship because she's more of a sister-type than a lover. If I squint my eyes really hard, I can almost think that's not completely false.

Also, she happened to send me an e-mail from her personal (non-BCM) e-mail address today, which uses a pseudonym. Thinking the pseudonym a reference that I just wasn't catching, I googled it. The only significant hit? Her old 'blog from college. Reading it, I get the feeling that perhaps she's a bit crazy. Perhaps. Again, if I squint really hard...

Also, it looks like she and the boyfriend have been together for like three years. And that's not counting some time where they were broken up because (best I can tell), she dumped him and then decided she'd made a mistake. So, none of that's particularly encouraging. But that's OK, because I've got two wonderful reasons why it would never work between us, right?

Thankfully, tonight is a happy time as I've got some great music to keep me company. Youth Group are a new one; Pitchfork hasn't picked them up yet (which makes me feel hip), though the OC has (which might negate the hipness). I've really been getting into their domestic debut. And I've got a burning desire to listen to the Arcade Fire EP (currently being sated), Modest Mouse's overlooked Everywhere & His Nasty Parlour Tricks, and Stars' latest offering.

And, I'm going to Austin this weekend to see my wonderful sister. And I think I've found a ride there, so I can be completely lazy. It's going to rock. Life's not bad. I promise.

Progress

Upon reading a random article about McDondald's today, I had the following realizations:

1. I couldn't remember where the closest McDonald's was until I consulted Google Maps.
2. There is a general paucity of them in my part of town.
3. Although upon looking at the map, I remembered exactly where the closest one was, looking for the second closest revealed a location that I'm still not entirely sure really contains a McDonald's.

Lesson to be learned: it is possible, with only unconscious effort, to almost completely remove some aspects of urban blight from your conscious mind.

Of course, this from the man who took a month or two to notice that all of the Circle Ks in Waco had changed to Skinny's, and a week to notice that the 59 overpass at Montrose had disappeared.

Update: As I drove this evening, I realized that, yes, there is one close to me that Google didn't turn up. That's not bad, though, it's just further proof of my ability to tune out the bad stuff.

Generic three day weekend

I was so happy and carefree when I wrote that post on Friday. A whole three day weekend ahead of me, and a boss-vacation after that.

I needed this.

So I came home Friday afternoon (early!) and didn't do much. Eventually, I thought that I needed to get something going, so I called Will to see if he was working at Woodrow's. I didn't get a call back (it later turned out that he was helping somebody move), but I decided to head on up there, and it worked out well enough, because when I was pulling out of the complex Char called and told me he and his girlfriend were heading up there, too, and it ended up Leroy was working as well. They didn't stick around long, as they were going ot see a movie, and I didn't stick around long, mainly because the weather was much to sticky to do too much sticking around.

As I was walking to my car, my phone rang, and, holy shit, it was Dana. She lead us into the small talk thing first, which I found encouraging, and then suggested we get together Saturday night when she got off work. I came home, intending to make an early evening of things, but Holly called, bored, and wanting beer. We went and had a round at the Harp, and then she wanted to take me to House of Pies. Not to be confused with Late-Nite Pie, House of Pies is sort of iHop/Denny's meets Marie Callendar's. My slice of coconut cream was enjoyable, and so was the company.

I met Char, his girlfriend, his sister (whom I had been asked to burn some CDs for), and a couple from the program (Chris and Ezgi) for dinner (though I had already eaten) at some Mexican place. I didn't eat the food, which looked OK, but my margarita was sufficiently disappointing that I don't feel a need to provide a name or a link.

I returned home to get ready for my date later in the evening, ironed a shirt (hope your'e happy, 'brina), trimmed my beard, made an ATM run, and tried to occupy myself without getting too nervous. She had told me she'd be off around 11:00; she finally called around 12:00.

And she cancelled on me, again. But we're making progress, because at least this time, she called, and she was very apologetic. Apparently, she was doing something with her family on Sunday and was cooking for them for the first time ever, and wanted to provide something of high enough quality that they wouldn't wonder exactly why she was spending money on this whole culinary arts thing in the first place. Unfortunately, she had done her shopping at K-Mart (after we talked on Friday night) and was not happy with the tomatoes she'd picked up, and wanted to redo the whole thing.

She was very cute about everything, said that she hoped I didn't think that was too compulsive of her, apologized for the lameness of the excuse, and asked me if we could do something Monday night. Of course, I understood completely about the cooking thing; you have no idea how many reject desserts I got form Dad growing up because the brownies were overcooked or the cheesecake cracked and he had to make another batch for whatever funciton he was attending. Of course, I have my own compulsive behaviors, too.

She ended the conversation saying something about "picking up some beer and fucking with some tomatoes", and I considered asking if she wanted some company while she did so, but thought that perhaps this is something she has to settle with the tomatoes by herself.

I went to catch up with Dan and Kristin at Rudyard's, only to find they weren't there, left, got a call from Dan and Kristin saying that they were on their way back to Rudyard's, and met them for a beer before heading home.

I woke up at the crack of 10:00 Sunday morning to help Dan and Kristin move into their new place in town. I can officially recommend: if you're coming to Houston, please hire movers. It's been a long time since I've sweated that much. When Dan went back to pick up the last few things, Kristin and I went for food, and we had a very nice chat. After a little more unloading, I took off, leaving them to unpack and get settled, and planned on taking a nice long shower myself. Alas, it was not to be.

Lauren called up about 8:55 asking me to a 9:30 movie, and not only was it Lauren, but it was also probably my only option for Sunday night entertainment, so I agreed, though I still desperately needed that shower. We picked up Chris (the boyrfriend) and Robbie (the boyfriend's roommate) and went to the creepy underground theater to see Layer Cake.

If you're into Guy Ritchie or that whole british crime genre, it's worth a watch. It was hard to follow at times, something that another director, perhaps Ritchie, could have prevented, but as another entry in the genre, it was perfectly enjoyable.

Lauren and co. drove me home afterwards, and I invited them up for drinks. That's always been half the reason I've kept my stocked liquor cabinet, anyway, so it was nice to use it for its intended purpose. Chris and Robbie were both enjoyable company and wanted to hang out again sometimes. Chris seemed particularly interested in my CD collection and stereo, and it's always nice to have those appreciated. Perhaps I shouldn't be fraternizing with the enemy, but they seem like good kids, and I'm trying to be good here, anyway.

After a failed attempt at grabbing some wings from BW3's, we gave up and went for Mai's instead, and it was quite tasty. There's something wonderfully satisfying about late night dining.

Anyway, a good time in general. I keep looking for something to dislike about Lauren, to drive me away, but instead, I keep finding more to like (new one: she likes to play video games). I woke up this morning throughly sore, and have been quite lazy today.

I happened to call Stephanie today to see how she was, as it's unusal for us to go a week without talking. She sounded off, like she was hiding something, and indeed, it turned out she was. This guy (who's a good kid, I think) has been pursuing her for quite a while, and she hung out with him a lot, though she claimed to be completely unattracted to him, and had rebuffed his advances on several occasions.

Well, apparently, sometime last week, she had given in. I don't have many details, but apparently "he's been sleeping over" and "we went to Austin this weekend".

I was only hurt and jealous for a second, I swear. I really shouldn't be. I have no desire to put up with the kind of shit she would give me. I certainly didn't want to waste a bunch of time pursuing her. Yeah, I always kind of wanted to mess around with her, but I never had that level of dedication, and it was probably a bad idea to begin with.

But even when it's completely irrational, that little twinge of hurt and jelaousy sucks. But you just shrug it off.

And you hope that next time you update your 'blog, you've got some interesting things to say about Dana. Let's hope this one goes well, kiddies, because, as I've mentioned, I'm a bit low on options these days.

I'm turning into a lightweight

I am free. The boss leaves tomorrow for a mini-sabbatical. Six weeks of being my own boss, sort of. Plus, a three-day weekend. I'm in a great mood.

But man, I was a fool Wednesday night. Will called me up to see if I wanted to do anything; after watching the lame season finale of "Lost" (couldn't they throw us one bone? Just one?), he picked me up and we swung by Woodrow's where his peeps were hanging. I started off making it a light evening. Two big ass shiners.

But then I went and bought a Lone Star tall boy. Thus started my true descent. After that, people just started handing me beers, which, under normal circumstances, would kick ass. But man did I pay for it the next day. We ended up drinking PBR, for some reason, and then we went across the street to Baker St. for a round of shots (tequila for me), and then we decided on a change of locations. We let somebody drop his bike off and picked him up; he brought us beers for the car. Hell, I wasn't driving. Bring it. Then we went to the Volcano, which I kind of liked, but the decision was made that it was too dead, so we headed over to Kay's, which turned out to not be any better. Somebody handed me a Pearl there (which, at that point, actually seemed to have a rather pleasant taste to it.

So, let's do the math. Two 18 oz. Shiners, that's effectively three beers. The tall boy, 1.5. The PBR. The Pearl. The shot of tequila. So, in the realm of 7-8. Bryan's BAC program says .09. Not a light evening, but not that heavy, either.

But I felt like shit the next day. Absolute shit. Miserable hangover. It was so strange. It must have been a lack of sleep. I doubt it really had anything to do with me being out of vitamins. I barely got anything done yesterday. I kept walking down to the bathroom, hoping to vomit and feel better. Lesson learned: I am incapable of making myself vomit. I would be a horrible bulimic.

I didn't really feel better until yesterday evening.

So, what else? Dan sounds like he really needs the help moving, so I guess I'm sticking around here this weekend and doing Austin next weekend. Dan and Kristin are going to the Bright Eyes show there, so maybe I'll hitch a ride with them. Maybe I'll even go to the show. I've never really liked Bright Eyes, though he always seemed like something I should like in principle. But the album he's touring for (Digital Ash in a Digital Urn), I'm kind of getting into. I always knew it could happen—Matthew Ward, Bright Eyes fan—but I'm not quite there yet.

Hopefully I can keep myself sufficiently entertained this weekend staying in town.

I've made a couple of attempts at calling Dana, but Wednesday I mentioned in the message that I'd out later, and last night that I'd probably be in bed around midnight, so it's feasible that's why she hasn't called yet. I figure we've got another week of phone tag ahead of us, minimum.

Dan invited me to join him in Dodgeball. I've always liked the concept—text your location to a central server, and then it lets your friends (and second degree friends) know if they're hanging out somewhere close by. I don't know whether it will catch on, but it's a nice, non-intrusive way to find something to do with your evening. If I can find a way to pitch it to my fellow Houstonians without making it sound too nerdy and making me sound too desperate for social contact, it'd be cool.

Stereo geek talk: As I mentioned, Nick and I were having problems getting my sub to disappear into the rest of my sound system. I e-mailed NHT to see where I should be setting the crossover between the main speakers and the sub—basically, speakers only work well within a certain frequency range, which is why you have tweeters and woofers and subwoofers. If you try to make it play sound outside of that range, it sounds like crap. So, you make sure that only the appropriate frequencies get sent to the appropriate speakers. When I add a sub, I want it to take over the low frequency duty that my main speakers were previously handling. But I have to tell it where to take over.

Anyway, my main speakers can handle surprisingly low bass frequencies, so I set a pretty low crossover: —60 or 80 Hz (human hearing is, mostly, 20 Hz-20,000 Hz). But NHT suggested I try somewhere between 80 and 100. Now my receiver only handles 20 Hz increments, so there's no between. But currently, I'm giving 100 a shot, and thinking it sounds pretty good.

Now Nick's saying, "Ward, we already tried this." He's right. But what I realized on Monday was that we somehow left the phase set on reverse instead of normal, which explains why it sounded like crap, even when we were trying those settings which should have worked...

Breaking news

A couple of weeks ago, I ran into Holly in the lobby and she was so excited to see me she jumped into my arms. We were both on our way out of school, in sepparate directions, but I promised her we'd try to hang out soon. Soon ended up being last night.

After my previous positive experience at Lizzard's Pub, I suggested we go back there. We did find a nice cozy little corner with a couch, but the place was a little frattastic, so we had a couple of beers and left. Holly suggested Agora over in Montrose. I hadn't been there, but like Onion Creek and Brasil (which was across the street), it was a hybrid coffee house/bar. The interior was very nice, dimly lit, and cozy, with a nice indoor balcony upstairs. There was a hipster there using an Apple Newton. They had Grolsch. The only objection I had was to the crappy house music (or whatever; my knowledge of electronica genres is limited). I'll have to add it to the list of bar destinations.

So while I was with Holly, Dana called me back. I didn't take the call, since I was ostensibly busy, the place was loud anyway, and she probably deserved to be held in suspense. Thankfully, she left a voicemail for me:

"He Matthew, it's Dana. Uh yeah, I'm sorry I didn't get back to you last week; I just... I really just didn't feel good until like probably like Friday or Saturday really, but anyway yeah, we still need to get together, I'm sorry, I just kind of... my schedule gets kind of gets weird, but anyway, give me a call. Talk to you later, bye."

Well, she had been a little sick when I talked to her last Tuesday. So, I guess that qualifies as an apology, although it's not a sufficient excuse for not picking up the phone and letting me know what was up. And that line about her schedule being weird... It sounded like there was something else there that she was neglecting to tell me... another man, perhaps? An older man? A much older man?

Anyway, it won't hurt to give it a shot. It's not like anything better's going on. Holly still kisses me when she sees me and holds my hand, but it's been a couple months since we last made out. Lauren has the boyfriend. And as for the one I've kept in reserve, well, that's pretty much a shot in the dark. So we'll see.

I haven't yet gotten my Memorial Day weekend plans straight. I had originally planned to go see Rebecca but was waiting on confirmation from her that she would be present in Austin. That confirmation came, finally, weeks after I'd asked for it, on Friday. Then it was retracted on Sunday. I e-mailed Dan to tell him I could help him move, and Char to tell him I could help entertain his sister, and who knows what else I committed to? But then Rebecca retracted her retraction. I feel bad backing out on Dan, and I guess I can always see her next weekend. I don't really feel like making a decision right now.

If your day needs brightening, check out this collection of logos that look like penises. You know you want to.

Nick's visit, more on Lauren, more on Dana, more on lab

So, bitching aside, on to the interesting stuff. Probably some more bitching, too.

There was a rumor that Death Cab for cutie's Ben Gibbard was in Houston on Friday; apparently his girlfriend is originally from here and they were visiting parents. Rumor had it that he would be at the Proletariat. Dan had mentioned going up there to gawk, but backed out, so I spent a little time at Woodrow's with Will before going thom to catch up on my sleep.

After laundry and dinner on Saturday, I drove out west to Columbus to pick up Nick. We returned and I received a call from Lauren. She came over, we had a round of drinks from Ward's Bar, and then after she threw out a bunch of places I'd never heard of as possible destinations, she settled on LZ's Pub. She requested that I drive and I obliged.

We arrived at the bar, got drinks, grabbed a table on the deck, and talked. The place was owned by the same people that own Lizzard's, and it showed: similar comfy but shabby decor, nice deck with uncomfortable lawn furniture, etc. The crowd was a bit eclectic. Overall, I liked it; it seemed like a place I might have liked to go in Waco or something, but in a good way.

Lauren's friend Katherine showed up at some point. Lauren and I talked shop, and the girls asked Nick questions about his life in the pharmacy. I impressed them with my ability to carry a few drinks at once. Nick seemed to enjoy the chance to go out and have a few drinks. It was a good time all around. I imbibed two beers, a tequila and tonic, and a white russian (the conversation had turned to The Big Lebowski at some point). Katherine's friend Jill called and invited us to join her at the Marquis, home of the big-ass Long Island iced teas (after I gave her directions). We hung around a little longer before deciding a change of venue was in order and heading in that direction.

We got to the Marquis, and made the mistake of going for the tea. It put Nick over the edge, probably wasn't a great choice for me, and only Lauren wised up and didn't drink much of hers. Thoms, David and Win called form David's birthday celebration in New York to say hi.

It turns out that Jill was Dana's connection to the party (through their job at the steakhouse), and when I confirmed this with Lauren, she offered to go look into the Dana situation for me. The intelligence I got back, while not as comprehensive as I might have desired, was at least revealing: apparently, she's on and off with some guy who's like 55. Lauren agreed with me that this was not a good sign, but that I should give it a chance anyway and just watch out for any baggage that might be in tow. Doesn't look good at this point, though.

Nick and I had previously discussed that food would be a good addition to the evening's activities at some point, an idea which Lauren had independently voiced, and though I wanted La Tapatia and Nick Whataburger, we were easily swayed to Lauren's suggestion of Late Nite Pie.

By the time we got there, Nick was quite thoroughly gone. I made sure he got to work on some water, and though he didn't think he could handle the pizza, we sent some breadsticks his way. Katherine and Jill showed up at some point, stuck around long enough for Nick and I to confirm our suspicions that they were a little strange, and left to smoke pot or something.

On the way back home, Nick decided he needed some Tums, so Lauren and I were treated to a drunk Nick's adventures in Walgreen's on Montrose. He was specifically fascinated by the endcap featuring gay postcards. We got the man home, Lauren took off ("We should do this more often." "Yes."), and I got Nick to bed with a couple of multivitamins, some water, and a trash can (which proved unnecessary).

A slightly hungover Ward and a much more hungover Nick hit up Star Pizza the next day for some lunch, before I gave him a brief tour of BCM and let him check out the light rail. We returned to my place so that I could enlist his help in getting my subwoofer performing optimally; we both agreed that it wasn't sounding quite as good as it could but neither of us could figure out what to do to get it better.

We went and got some Tapatia for dinner, decided we were too tired to catch Drums and Tuba at Rudyard's and instead had a couple of pints at the Ginger Man and observed the cute but not-particularly-friendly bartender and a cute but horribly, horribly annoying girl there with an awful, grating voice.

I got Nick dropped off at the Airport Monday morning and made it back in time for lab meeting. Turns out there was a bit of drama going down in the lab—the girl who's my year in the lab had decided to quit, to the surprise of pretty much no one. She'd always been picked on a bit more than normal by the boss; she's also quite a bit older than I and has decided that she's ready to start making money and not be in school anymore. The boss was in damage control mode, and gave me a pep talk to let me know that he was satisfied with my work, thought I was in a good position, and so forth. We were discussing getting new students for the lab next year, and he mentioned that he knew that he had a reputation, and I agreed with that. "I know, I'm an asshole." Well, straight from the source there. Jeff, you always knew it, didn't you?

Between that and a dinner celebrating the graduation of our first graduation in the lab at Pico's, it was a fairly uplifting day. The food was good, too. Today wasn't bad, either, though I managed to keep busy with things that prevented me from doing actual work.

I gave Dana a call tonight and got voicemail (it's entirely possible she's working). I'm not holding out much hope on this one, but I figured it was worth a try, anyway.

So, what else? Well, I'm trying to handle this Lauren thing well, I really am. Nick confirmed that she's great ("So what's her down side? Because I don't see one.") and would be perfect for me, so I'm not just seeking out attached women in a self-destructive manner. I really like her, and enjoy spending time with her, and find myself looking forward to the chance to do so (before telling myself to stop). I think she'll be a good friend, if I can let go (at least for the time being) of what might have been. Hell, ladies, after the way she's been helpful with the Dana thing, I think she'd even be good on the search committee, casting aside the fact that she's probably not willing to leave a committed relationship for me, which probably shouldn't be a requirement anyway. She really seems to like me, and even seems to have a fairly good intuitive understanding of who I am, and if not for the boyfriend, I'd be in a great place with her right now.

I talked to Cousin Jer today and he suggested that that perhaps she sees me as safe. I never liked his perspective on women much anyway (he also told me the only way to get women was to alternately insult them and ignore them). There's always the temptation to be the asshole, to play the games, but I don't think I'd like the prizes I'd win. I'm not even sure it works all that well for him.

Anyway, I'll try to keep the bitching about Lauren to a minimum from here on out, for my sake and yours. Between her and Dana, though, I'm pretty much back to square one with the women (except for one possibility I plan to explore this week). Beyond that, though, life is pretty good, I have to admit, especially with lab seeming to go well if not brilliantly (which is good, because when it goes brilliantly there's usually something wrong). So that's the State of the Ward...

Fuck Cingular

So ever since I stopped having a long-distance girlfriend, I've come nowhere close to using up my cell phone minutes. I have to go to a conference in Bethesda in a couple of months, so I thought I'd sacrifice some minutes for nation-wide roaming. I called Cingular up to switch plans. They could switch me to one of AT&T's other plans, with this catch: free nights and weekends and free mobile-to-mobile calling are considered "specials" and they don't offer specials on AT&T accounts anymore.

What about switching to a Cingular plan?

Well, they require you to buy a new phone and sign a new contract. Fuck that. I shouldn't have to sign a contract just to change my minutes. I'll wait until there's a phone out that's worth the cost of the upgrade.

If I had the option, I'd just jump ship to a different phone company. Sprint and Verizon have crappy phones. T-mobile has good phones but crappy coverage. AT&T and Cingular were the only comparable carriers, but of course, they're now the same thing. So much for consumer choice...

Bastards. Damn capitalism.

Disturbing trend

If I continue down the path towards misogyny (don't worry; present company excepted), there will be no one to blame but the women themselves (and possibly Jeff). But then, I'm sure that's what all the misogynists say (except for the Jeff part). It's like being in prison and claiming to be innocent. I swear, I like girls, I really do. I just hate having to date them. The alternatives certainly aren't appealing, though, so I'm pretty much stuck.

Seriously, this is a disturbing trend. No call from Dana last night. Now it's entirely possible that she got off work late and decided it was too late to call me, but if that's the case, I better hear from her today. Besides, I'm sure my readership will claim I'm being too lenient here, anyway.

What's the fucking deal? Am I going about this all wrong? Am I not aggressive enough? Do I just pick the wrong women? Am I just unlucky? Fuck it, dude, let's go bowling.

In the spirit of misogyny, I really enjoyed hearing about what this guy is doing. I've never been a fan of the whole "guy pays" model of dating, though I've grudgingly accepted it the way I have so many gender roles. But this man is actively fighting back, even if he is being an asshole about it. It brought a smile to my face, whether it should have or not.

I'm tired. Having failed to catch up on sleep last weekend due to the ufortunate combination of partying and parents, then working late Sunday night, just plain not wanting to go to bed Monday night, going out Tuesday night, seeing the late showing of Star Wars Wednesday night, and not making it to bed particularly early last night since I was expecting a phone call.

Went out with Dan, Kristin, John, and Andreana on Tuesday night, first to Brasil and then Poison Girl. We were on the patio at Brasil, and my damn car alarm kept going off. The idiots at Best Buy got the thing to sensitive, which I've known for a while now, but I didn't realize the extent of it. I'm now "that guy".

Will, Brad and I got our barbecue on at Goode's, picked up our Star Wars tickets, and then went to the Lizard Lounge or Bar or Pub or whatever it is (Citysearch is again being uncooperative—actually, it's Lizzard's Pub, two Zs and all). I like it. Nice and chill, at least when we were there. And the air conditioning inside was aboslutely frigid, which would make it a good summer destination.

We showed up at the movie a little after 10:00, and they were already seating people. We finagled Brad into the same showing that we had tickets for, and found some seats. There were lots of peopel wearing bathrobes and carrying toy lightsabers. There were very few truly interesting costumes, though there was the 6'5" Yoda.

And the movie itself? I really enjoyed it. How good was it? As good as it needed to be. Does it redeem the other two movies? Not really. The flaws are still there, but for the most part aren't so glaringly obvious that they interrupt the movie. Besides the usual acting and script issues (did Tom Stoppard really edit it?), I had some issues with the plot, motivations, etc., but the fact that I could even get past the other stuff to see issues with such things is telling of how far this movie advanced over its predecessors.

Not sure what's going on tonight; I think Dan & co. are going out, which is probably a good option for me, unless a certain someone decides to try to redeem herself. Nick's in town for a wedding and I'll be catching up with him tomorrow and Sunday, which should be good.

Linkage

Would I win an iPod War, or would my soft spot for Dave Matthews be my undoing?

This was kind of funny until they used up all their bandwidth. Maybe it'll come back up at some point.

So, I eventually made it up to school last night and got some work done while chatting with Sabrina about housing options. Of course, after I got home, I had to watch the Family Guy. And I couldn't stop there; I had a perfectly good episode of American Dad waiting for me after that. So, it ended up being late by the time I got to bed. That, coupled with my late night on Friday and my early (for a weekend) mornings Saturday and Sunday resulted in a very tired Ward this morning.

I fought to stay awake all during lab meeting. Pinching myself and tapping my foot didn't keep my eyes focused; every time they stopped moving I had to fight to keep them from closing. I had better luck with constantly keeeping them moving, looking around the room. I made it through, barely. I swear it hasn't always been like this. I don't think I started falling asleep in class until high school. By college, it was academic. If I printed out reviews from Pitchfork or played games on my calculator or Palm, I had no trouble, but if I had to pay attention, I was gone. It spread to Sunday school at some point. Now it happens in lab meetings. Sometimes coffee helps, but sometime it just makes me very nervous and irritable but keeps me sleepy.

Anyway, the boss was back and seemed to be in a good mood. Oliver's thinking about joining the lab, which probably aided that. Then he was gone all afternoon, so I had a fairly easy day in which to work on my project that I'm also using for my Rice class. Apparently, the writeup on that was due on Friday, and we didn't realize it. So, naturally, right now I need to be editing it, but it's basically done.

As she had suggested, I called Dana tonight. I swear, that shit never gets any easier. For modern life, I swear, adrenaline is a hindrance. I don't need to be ready to fight or fly when I'm trying to ask a girl out. Anyway, it went well. We had the requisite amount of small talk and tentatively set something up for Thursday, assuming she gets off work on time. Thank God that's out of the way. Oh, and I rule.

"Donnie, you're out of your element."

After a nice evening hanging out with the folkds, who haven't been here to visit me in, um, quite some time, I headed back in search of something to do. I called will, and he, Brad, and another guy were at the Front Porch (which, sadly, probably was not chosen to be a sexual euphemism). Ostensibly, it's in midtown, but when I think of midtown, I think of an area that looks a lot like downtown Waco—lots of dilapidation with some sporadic signs of life. This, however, was gentrification central, buch like that one or two blocks of Austin Avenue that look almost commercially viable.

Faux-dive aspirations aside, the place had a good beer selection. We stuck around for a couple of rounds before the other three guys wanted to go somewhere a little more happening. I mentioned that Komodo lounge (at least that's the way I remember the name, but I can't find a listing for that) seemed to be hopping, so we headed down there.

It was an old brick house; it was actually a pretty cool space, but inside was fucking packed, and these were not my people. We stood around outside, drinking beer and appreciating the scenery. Will had his eye on a couple of girls, and while he was making a trip to the bar, they asked for a light. He made it back in time to use his in, though.

As an aside, I find it a little disturbing that the fact that I don't habitually suck down carcinogenic stuff causes me to miss out on an easy in with girls. Maybe I should just start carrying the acoutrements with me for that reason alone. Or maybe I'll just try to get through on my natural good looks and charm.

Anyway, I figured I'd back Will up, and it's proably good for me to practice projecting confidence and charm in situations where I really don't give a shit about the outcome. Will introduced himself as an employee of little Woodrow's, neglecting his true occupation once again. I didn't have to worry about whether I was a med or grad student, as nobody ever really asked me. Will introduced me as Silent Matt, which got him a few laughs. One of the girls said I look like Jack Black, except either "you're not as overweight as he is" or "you're not overweight like he is". One is a compliment, one is a back-handed compliment, but I suppose either way, I'll take it.

It turned out that one of the girls was girls was married, but Will was holding out hope for the remaining one, who was, I must admit, pretty cute, but in all likelihood way out of our leagues.

Will offered the married girl a beer at one point (Miller Lite) only to be rebuffed with "I only drink Coors Lite." Fuck. If you're drinking piss, do the subtleties of it really matter? For that matter, if you're drinking piss, at least go with something with a little character that makes no pretensions (Pearl, Lone Star, Pabst, the Beast, and so forth) as to how good it is. Wow. Talk about rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.

I went to the bar for a round at one point. I gave the waitress a ten to pay for a couple of beers, and she licked it before putting it in the register. She brought me my change and licked it, too, before putting it in my hand. The guys next to me told me that for a show like that, I should tip well. I left a dollar and mentioned that she was trying too hard. I really don't like some bitch's drool all over my cash. It's dirty enough as it is.

Anyway, Will decided to give it up, we went to the Front Porch to collect the other two guys, and we went and got some food at Chapultapec. I tried their margarita, which went down smooth. Things were good.

I had lunch with the parents today and bought a new wallet. The old one had been in service for about six years, and was looking like it was ready for retirement:



The boss is back in town tomorrow, and I should probably go get some shit done. Bleh. But hey, it's been a hell of a good weekend. I've potentially got a date Tuesday night. Star Wars is out Wednesday. Nick's coming to visit this weekend. I can't complain too much.

Party

In my waking moments this morning, and driving to meet my parents for lunch, I realized how therapeutic writing this thing is to me. My head's kind of full right now, and it helps to organize everything into a series of loosely-related and somewhat coherent thoughts.

So I had run into Lauren at a seminar back on Wednesday and discussed what she could use for the party, and she seemed to perk up at the mention of nice tequila. About 8:30 Friday night, I took off for the liquor store, picked up a bottle Milagro silver, and then went to the village. I made a quick stop by Woodrow's to visit Will and then put in an appearance at the graduate school happy hour at Buffalo Wild Wings. I'd been craving some BW3's for a while, so I partook of the graduate school's free wings and enjoyed my one free beer. I sat with Leroy and Char, who managed to get our table first crack at most of the wings. Their ability to horde the food was nothing short of impressive.

Anyway, for the most part the crowd there wasn't much to my liking, so I took off for Chris's (Lauren's boyfriend's) party pretty quickly. I entered, saw Graham and Kennedy there, said hi to BCMer Zana, went through the kitchen and was greeted by a chorus of "M. Ward!", and went into the back yard to check out the rest of the party.

Lauren was wearing a short skirt and fish net. Wow. If I hadn't thought she was great before... But anyway, I didn't dwell on that. I am not going to make myself miserable, pining away over her. I'll curse my luck, be friends with her, and hope that maybe one day I'll have a chance to find out if there's really anything there. But damn. I think she's got a whole lot more potential than Rachal did. That's fucking big, right there.

So moving on. A lot of Chris's friends from LSU were there. Despite my current anti-Louisiana bias, Louisiana girls keep showing up in my life. When I came out to give Lauren the tequila and the stack of CDs the she'd requested, one girl seemed to check me out, so I talked to her for a while, and bummed a cigarette (I swear, I'm never smoking again). Being from out of town, and also seeming squarely within my league, I regarded her with definite hookup possibility. Because damn, it would have been nice to have hooked up with someone. While I was trying to chat her up, a girl I didn't know from BCM overheard I was from Waco and then wouldn't stop asking me questions about what it was like to live in a city infested with with cultists and to attend a school where they don't teach evolution. My corrections of her attitude toward Waco were greeted not just with disappointment but also with some measure of disbelief.

Anyway, I drank (there was a margarita machine, and lots of liquor and beer, and someone made mojitos at some point, and I drank some Jim Beam and Coke) and was feeling quite pleasant and sociable. Char and Leroy showed up. Graham and Kennedy left. Charlotte, the hookup possibility, came up to Lauren and I and asked about "that cute asian guy" (Char). I mentioned that he had a girlfriend, and she mentioned that she had a boyfriend. So, that was the end of that one.

I can't quite remember how, but at some point, I met Dana. I must have talked to her some, because when she said she was going home to change and coming back, I gave her shit about how she wouldn't really come back.

I was out back, bullshitting with some guys about computers, or science, or something. I think I had something profound to say about how we would never truly understand statistics and quantum mechanics because of the inherent uncertainty, and they, somehow, instantly knew that I worked with computers. Funny, that.

And then Dana came up to me and made it a point that I recognize her return to the party. We ended up talking. She was pretty cute. She's a student at the art institute after some previous work at U of H (strangely, that was part of Amy's biography as well) and is doing culinary arts and resteraunt management stuff. We talked about what I did, and somehow out of that the age thing came up—she, justifiably, regarded me as young, and I think she's probably closing in on 30 or so. Not that I find anything at all wrong with that. It seems to be the nature of the beast at this point in my life that most women I meet are older than me. Good thing not everybody's fixated on the age thing (Charlene, Rachal). She seemed interested in my work and, though I was trying my best to keep things short and not bore her, she insisted on a surprisingly high level of detail. I'm pretty sure that I used the slats and posts in the fence to illustrate some point about protein structure. She didn't seem scared.

She eventually (2:30?) announced she was leaving, and I asked for her number and mentioned the possibility of going out for a drink next week. She seemed a bit hesitant, and I told her it was OK if she wasn't interested, but she said that wasn't the case. She gave me her number, told me to call her on Monday, and threw out the possibility of going out Tuesday. I walked her out and checked out what was going on out front.

Char, Leroy, Zana, and Lauren were out there. Char seemed surprised that I wasn't going home with Dana; it's nice that people have confidence in my abilities, whether it's well-founded or not. Charlotte came out at some point, and then went in to go to bed. Leroy and Char tried to push me to go after her (again, confidence), but she hadn't really done anything to indicate interest, so I focused on enjoying the company rather than going for a meaningless hookup. Maybe I'm a wuss.

The crowd started to thin out. Eventually, it came down to Lauren, myself and Zana, watching MTV2. There was an Arcade Fire video, which surprised the hell out of me. There were bagel bites, which were very good for the drunken soul. I made sure I wasn't wearing out my welcome, but stuck around, looking to ensure that I was good to drive before I left. Chris apparently had a breathalyzer, which Iw as tempted to try out but didn't really get the chance to. Lauren was getting ready to go and take Zana home. Chris emerged from his room and, since his bed had been overtaken by his friends, was going to go stay at Lauren's. I walked out with them, Lauren mentioned that I was welcome to stay at her place (which, in retrospect, might have been nifty if not neccesary), but when I described my BAC as probably in the .05-.06, she seemed to think that not only the BAC itself, but also my handle on the whole concept seemed to indicate my readiness to drive.

So that was that. I got in around 6:00, saw someone outside with their morning cup of coffee. As I mentioned, I wokeup surprisingly early. I fired off an e-mail thanking Lauren for a kickass party and also asking what she knew about Dana.

Speaking of which, I may be a bit pessimistic about my chances with Dana. She seemed to enjoy our conversation, and was willing to give me her number, even when given an easy out. But let's review the history of girls whom I've met and immediately gotten a number:

• Holly: that took a good nine months to get anywhere before promptly hitting a sizable brick wall.
• Amy: though we did have a date, that was the occasion for the "I'm not looking to date anybody right now" speech. Further contact was always initiated by me and, though she always greeted me warmly, she certainly didn't seem compelled to keep up anything on her end.
• Alex: that bitch, despite displaying an initial interest, never returned my calls and didn't express any significant levels of regret when I ran into her at Woodrow's.

So, as you can see, the track record is not so good in that area. But hell, if nothing else, it's good praectice, and it's good for my confidence level to meet a girl and have her be at least interested enough to give me a number. I'll take that any day.

And fuck, it felt good to party like that, to be around new (non BCM) people, to be out until 6:00 AM. Reminded me of my latter college days. This needs to happen more often.

Caribou

What the hell am I doing up before noon? I think I went to bed around 6:00 last night. Anyway...

After the OC Thursday, I took off for Mary Jane's. A stop by the pharamacy caused me to miss the Russian Futurists, but I did catch the Junior Boys. Their album failed to catch my attention when I downloaded it about nine months or so ago, but they were a little more enjoyable life.

Caribou, though. Wow. The man/band formerly known as Manitoba may have put on the best show I've seen all year. From the start, they grabbed my attention when two guys came out and sat behind two drum kits while a third played guitar. The two drum kit thing isn't done very often, and isn't often done very well, but managed to use it to give the music huge amounts of energy. I'd always thought of them as electronica, but just about everything was played live. The guy whom I think was the main guy switched off between drums, keyboards, and various other things. The guy playing guitar would occasionally turn around and play the keyboards (backwards!). The other drummer pretty much stuck to percussion.

They made probably the best use of video that I've seen in a live show. This wasn't the usual abstract wankery (mostly); many of the videos were animated and synchronozied to the music. Some bits even had a Gorillaz sort of feel to them. There was even an ungoing plot.

Anyway. The parents are in town. I'm off to go see them. I'll blog about the party later, but I won't keep you kids in suspense. No, I did not hook up with anyone. Yes, I did get a phone number. There you go.

Change afoot; Feist and British Sea Power

Ever since my purchase of a wireless router nine months ago freed my iMac (and, consequently, the computer desk on which it sits) from being restricted to a particular position in my apartment, I'd been considering the option of rearranging some furniture. Trouble is, the most important thing here is, really, to have a layout conducive to the proper arrangement of my speakers. Since, in my living room, one wall is dominated by a window (which is not a good thing to have speakers in front of, not to mention that I wouldn't want ot have to try to watch TV facing into the western afternoon sun), one by the kitchen bar, and one is shared with my neighbors, that really only leaves one option for the AV setup. Then, the white couch has to be positioned opposite the AV equipment for proper viewing and listening. Everyrthing else, mostly, falls into place from there.

I face similar restrictions in the bedroom—the speakers must not be on the shared wall, and since another wall has the bedroom and closet doors and the third a large window, that leaves things pretty much set in there, as well.

So I did the one thing I could do. I switched the computer desk and the recliner on Sunday afternoon. The computer desk, assorted equipment, and cabling proved to be a pain in the ass to rearrange, but in the end, despite my almost pathological fear of change, I think the results are actually pretty nice. Things feel a bit more spacious now. The recliner looks a bit trapped by the two couches, but I may be able to switch the smaller couch and the recliner—I do have a little flexibility along that wall. I've got pictures (or I will soon):




So, ultimately, I feel like I've satisfied some deep-seated need for change. I could speculate endlessly as to what that was the symptom of, but hopefully, by treating the symptom, I've done something to the cause. I think this even leaves me some new space for decorating, which is kind of nifty.

Jeff and I ended up with a spare ticket to the show, which I tried in vain to give away. I tried Lauren, and she was up for it until Mother's Day plans intervened. I tried Holly, who had mentioned this show to me as much as a month back, but as usual, no matter how much regret she expressed after the fact about missing the show, it wasn't a priority to her. Dan was going to go, but bowed out due to his weekend full o' manual labor, understandably.

So one of Jeff's other friends joined us for part of the show. First up was Broken Social Scene member Feist. I had listened to her album a couple of times through, and thought it likable in a Norah-Jones-but-not-boring sort of way. On stage, however, she completely won me over. It was just her and an electric guitar. She constructed some Final Fantasy-style guitar loops to sing over, enlisted the crowd for various backing vocals and snaps, and sung in her wonderfully strong-but-slightly-sultry voice. It's tough to put on an arresting show playing solo, but she pulled it off beautifully. Her stage presence was captivating. Her album has since become a daily listen.

British Sea Power was uneven at times, but ultimately rocked out in an entirely competent manner with their 80s post-punk tunes, particularly toward the end of their set. They were all young and fresh-faced; I had, for some reason, expected an older and more weathered group. Regardless, they knew how to play. As I am always a sucker for moments of pure rock and roll showmanship, I appreciated it when one of the guitarists turned his neckerchief into a blindfold, stumbled off the stage with a drum, walked a few feet into the crowd, let himself fall and be caught, and crowd surfed before being returned to the stage.

I thought I was going to be able to steal John Van's pictures, but Flickr doesn't let you download. I'll have to steal Jeff's instead.

The week's been fairly low-key. The boss is out of town, which helps keep things chill. I met Dan, Kristin, and Andreana out for beer and humus at Brasil on Monday night. Tuesday night, I made my release day CD run; the first since Beck's new album (as both Ben's new album and the Magnolia album were mail order). Picking up the new Spoon was a given; Feist's album was a bit of an impulse buy when I noticed that there was only one copy out. They had sold out of the new Spoon, but were willing to part with the copy they were using in one of their listening stations.

It remained to decide whether to get the new Dave Matthews Band and the new Weezer. In the end, I am a consumer whore, and I bought them both, both out of some slight morbid curiousity (possibly marking the most CDs I've picked up at one time). DMB went through the sell out and then back to basics cycle, so I was curious as to where they would go next. At this point, only their hard core fans want to see them continue their old ways; the rest of us have grown tired and want to see them do something different, and that's what they've done here. The album has the gloss of Everyday (though hopefully the songwriting proves less mediocre), but is stylistically a little more adventurous, in the vein of Before These Crowded Streets. I won't say that it's good, necessarily, but at least it's got some surprises. Weezer, on the other hand, seems to continue their unremarkable last couple of albums, but also seems relatively inoffensive. The green album and Maladroit only revealed the depths of their mediocrity after lots of listening, so I'll have to hold off forming a definitive opinion on it for a while.

And I'd like to note for the record that I've skipped the last two DMB live albums, so I've made progress, but I'm sure Kristin would argue that my love of Guster is indicative of a predilection towards jam bands.

I had to get a professor's signature over at University of Houston, so I drove today. I'd never even been over in that part of town, so it was sort of nice to get to drive and explore a bit. Sabrina, the campus looked nice. A bit of a community college feel to it, but it seemed like a decent place. Hot girls, too, not that that means much to you. My meeting with the professor went well; despite the hell he gave me during qual time, he's nice, easy to talk to, and he seemed pleased with my work. Afterwards, I paid Tiffany a visit since she's in that lab; we had some of the lab's coffee and exchanged what little gossip we had available to us. I made the drive back to Baylor in time for a lunch-time seminar. I just want to say that, damn, it was nice to have my car. I felt free. It was amazing to be able to leave work whenever I wanted and to get home within fifteen mintues. I might even consider blowing $80 a month on parking if the lots weren't fifteen minutes (walking or bus) away.

Links and drinks

What else is going on these days? There's a surprisingly good article about the history of the post-it note that I read on Saturday. I've also enjoyed this guy's blog about his experience as a bouncer in New York. He seems pretty smart, and the behind-the-scenes look at the type of bullshit that goes on in the club scene is pretty interesting.

I've been into drinking bloody marrys lately (fuck that morning drink bullshit), and their cousins, the bloody beer/bloody harry (which I was first introduced to at lunch with Sabrina and Rebecca in Austin, back in the day, and later found at Onion Creek here). I know some people (Bryan, looking in your direction) think that a tomato-based drink is disgusting, but I kind of like it in some sick sort of way. The bloody beer (2:1 beer to mix) is a nice way to use up the leftover Lonestar and that lingering can of Keystone Ice in my fridge. I've also been trying making my bloody marry with tequila, a lime garnish, some jalapeño Tobasco sauce, and jalapeño seasoning in place of black pepper. Not bad.

Update: Ironically, after posting about vague, free-floating feelings of lonliness and complaining about missing my old friends comes the news that U of H law school is looking increasingly attractive to one Sabrina Neff. Now I recognize that SMU would be a preferred destination since it would not involve relocating, but man would it ever rock to have her 'Brinaness conveniently close by. Man would it ever rock...

A delicate balance

Hang on. This is probably going to be a long one. A few days to catch up on, plus some general bitching and reflection ahead... It's going to be unfocused. I'm too lazy to do better tonight.

I did little for Cinco de Mayo. I had the last Dos Equis in my refridgerator and made a margarita and watch two hours of the OC. Stephanie called and invited me over, but it was pretty boring. I think I caught the tail end of Eternal Sunshine.

I had a couple of options on Friday evening; Graham resumed his hosting of Fridays at West Alabama, and Lauren was going to the Fischerspooner show. I went with the Graham option in the end; as much as I want to be able to be friends with Lauren regardless of her relationship status, I also need to be careful not to make myself miserable pining away after someone I can't have. I do learn the occasional lesson, after all. West Alabama was low-key. Kennedy, as always, was anxious to hear the latest on my love life, and has once again decided that she's going to fix me up with her Filipina opera singer friend, but I've heard that before... Anyway, I made a visit to Will at Woodrow's and then caught up with Dan, Kristin and John at Poison Girl for a couple of rounds. Dan and Kristin cut out, but John and I hit up the Proletariat and then Late-Nite Pie.

I had told Kristin that I would visit her at the Gap on Saturday, so after running some Mother's Day-rleated errands, I did just that and picked up a few items. I was going to attempt to save 10% on my purchase by opening up a Gap credit card, only to be rejected. I should think I'd have excellent credit (I didn't have to have the parents cosign on the apartment), so that struck me as strange. I've been looking into credit reports, but looking form them on the internet seems about as shady a task as looking for free software, video game ROM images, music, or porn. Bryan and I have had some bitching sessions about how these mysterious corporations manage to control various aspects of our lives.

Lauren and her boy were going to see Rilo Kiley that night, but for the reasons I cited above about Friday night, and the fact that Rilo Kiley didn't particularly impress me with their show last time around, I took a chance that I'd be able to find something else to do, only to be completely and totally wrong. It seemed that nothing else was going on.

Only, I found out later, that there was a party going on (which I knew) for some people (that I didn't know). Stephanie was going, but she didn't invite me, and although I considered inviting myself, I decided agains it. Turns out, though, that not only was she there, but so were Holly and Lauren. Holly and I don't really keep track of each other much these days, and Lauren missed my text message requesting to be notified if anything interesting was going on post-concert. I think I was fated to have stayed in Saturday night. Perhaps something horrible would have happened if I had gone out.

I don't know if it's just the lingering effects of missing out on my usual dose of social contact Saturday evening, or what, but I've been feeling a bit of lonliness lingering lately. For someone who can be such an introvert, I have to have a very carefully measured amount of social interaction, too, and not going out on a weekend night profoundly throws off that balance. Also, there's the continued problem that despite the many friends I've made here, prescious few of them measure up to the old ones that I don't see much. I'm looking forward to Bryan and Sabrina being in Dallas within a relatively easy drive. Thom's been up to visit David a few times recently, which always makes me a bit jealous. Point being, I miss you kids. You're hard to replace.

Then again, it could just be girls. Despite my best efforts over the years to chill the fuck out and remember that my worth has nothing to do with the amounf of female companionship I have, it still gets to me some times. At least I recognize and admit to my neuroses. I maintain that the volume of them is, at least, lower than average.

In talking to Kennedy about girls, she seems to think that I'm not doing enough to try to meet women; that I should be involved in more extra-curricular activies, volunteer organizations, political activism groups, book clubs, theater troups, and the like. I think I do a pretty good job of, at least in theory, running in a variety of social circles in an attempt to meet a range of people, and I don't really want to spend a bunch of time on some activity I don't really care about in hopes that maybe I'll meet somebody, when instead I could be doing something more rewarding like trying to work towards my Ph. D., enjoying the company of my friends, consuming pop culture, etc.. But maybe she's right. Maybe I am more to blame than I generally think.

Eh. I don't know. I'm sure it will pass. I just wish I could identify the real problem here. I know that ideally, none of this stuff shoudl really bother me, but like I said, at least I admit to my neuroses and recognize the unhealthy attitudes I have, even if I can't quite shake them.

Not much...

Did I accomplish anything yesterday? I really don't think I did. Perhaps I'm wrong. I caught up with Kristin and Dan at Rudyard's for dinner before going to see The Good Life play at Mary Jane's. I'm sure I'm crushing Dan's spirit, but I wasn't particularly impressed. Maybe I was just tired. The band before them I at first thought I liked, but then I realized that I just thought the lead singer was cute. That earned me a disapproving look from Kristin, who didn't understand that musicians are just inherently more attractive—or at least so she claimed. I'd be curious how she'd feel about Britt Daniel if he wasn't fronting Spoon.

I spent eight boring hours today tracking down two trivial bugs in a script I had written. I think the damned thing works now, but now the hard part comes—I have to make it work better than what's already out there. Fun stuff.

Through a series of random web surfing decisions today, I came to read an article on a balloon fetish party. If that sentence caught your attention, the article's probably worth reading. Disclaimer: it's surprisingly clean.

Tomorrow (today now, I guess) is Cinco de Mayo, and I'm not exactly sure what to do about it. Lauren had mentioned going to see Kung Fu Hustle, which would be fine. I think I'll have fulfilled my duty as an ignorant American as long as I consume a beer and a margarita. It'd be nice to do it up right, but I don't really feel like organizing something. Maybe next year.

God's mocking me, isn't He.

Seriously. He thinks He's really clever and funny. And He probably is, if I were to be objective about things.

By way of recap: Lauren attends BCM; I've run into her at a few concerts; she has a boyfriend. We've exchanged a few e-mails discussing music, which she seems to have enjoyed, and I know I did.

So I was sitting in lab on Friday afternoon, waiting for the day to end, when I got a text message from her, asking if I wanted to go see the documentary about Enron. Of course I did. It ended up just being her and I, she picked me up, and we went to the movie, marking the first time I'd really spent time with her or had an extended conversation with her. And, well, she's great. Great tastes in music. Apple user. Cute. Nice. She knows how to work on cars, which a) I envy and b) is kind of hot. We talked about school, and whether all scientists must be crazy. I had previously cited her boss as my example of normality, but she set me straight on that one. Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed her company. Did I mention she's cute and has good tastes in music? And that she seems sane?

Incidentally, the movie was enjoyable if perhaps a bit dry. Well, it was a documentary. The theater is packed, which probably shouldn't be too surprising since this is Houston, but the thing's been out for a few weeks.

So she dropped me back by home. She was off to hang out with her boyfriend and the rest of her social circle. Kristin had invited me to a going away party for a friend of a friend, luring me with promises of scores of single women to whom she could introduce me. They were over at Brian O' Neil's generic-ass Irish bar. She hadn't left the 'burbs yet, so I went and visited will down the street at Woodrow's until she showed up. In the end, it turned out that she didn't really know anybody and wanted to go somewhere else. Whether there were ever any single women, or whether she just needed an emergency date since Dan was looking after his daughter, I'm not sure.

Luckily, Lauren had texted me and invited me to join her crew over at Cecil's, so we joined them. Lauren's friends all knew me as "M. Ward" which I found endearing—even when coming from her boyfriend, whom I talked to for a bit. Seems like a nice enough guy; it's not like she's dating a jerk or anything. I think I'm at least competitive in the looks department. I don't have an edge on the music thing, though.

Anyway, I enjoyed their company, even if I did curse my luck the whole way home. The most promising girl I've met in years, and she's taken. Well, at the very least, she knows me now, and if things were to ever go south, it's not like I'd be starting from scratch. And there's always the possibility that she's got some cute friends. And if nothing else, if there's one of her out there, there's probably more like her, somewhere. I just have to find them.

Saturday, I did laundry, blew some money on a Sin City book and booze (I needed tequila, triple sec, and wine). Thank you, US Treasury, for returning my money to me. Lauren had invited me to see the Black Keys play with them, but Will and I had made plans to see Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, and carried them out. No matter the good and bad reviews; I didn't have a choice as to whether or not I would actually see the movie.

All throughout the movie, any attempt at forming an opinion about it made me feel like finding a nice corner to curl up in, close my eyes, and hope it just went away. It wasn't bad per se, but it just could have been so much better. The strength of Douglas Adams' books were in his use of language, and the movie took out many of the verbal jokes and put sight gags in their place. The books were an important formative experience for me, back in the day, and it would have been nice to see them done justice. I hold out hope for the sequels.

Will was in a non-village-person mood, which was fine with me, so I introduced him to the beauty of goldfish and pinball at Poison Girl, where we had some beer before dropping in on Leroy at the West Alabama Little Woodrow's.

Sunday was chiefly dedicated to either working on my presentation for lab meeting, or trying to get off my ass to work on my presentation for lab meeting. Four damned presentations in the last week and a half. Oh how I hate presenting, especially in front of a bunch of scientists who can't leave well enough alone. I mean, I know that's what they're supposed to do, but it doesn't change the fact that it's annoying.

The lab meeting came and went today; the presentation was OK, I though, but the boss felt a need to give me a bunch of shit on principle. It wasn't as bad as what somebody else got last week, and it wasn't a horrible experience, though God knows why he didn't give me any of this feedback the last time he saw this presentation at my committee meeting. Or why he felt it necessary for me to present both of my projects, and try to squeeze them in, and then criticize me for the things I left out.

Fuck it, Dude. Let's go bowling.

I saw this article today about what Jesus would have on His iPod. I like the concept, but the execution is a little lacking, perhaps a bit overwrought, but then I'd also take issue with some of the musical suggestions. Mainly, though, he must not have gone to the School for Creative Headline Writing, because he missed the best one: "What Would Jesus Download?".

Eh. I think that's it for now. I've got a post I've been meaning to write about the extent to which my musical tastes define me, personally, and the implications that arise when those traits are no longer unique. I'll get around to it one of these days... Along that line, I'll have some new album reviews posted over on the main site soon.