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I'm turning into such an old lady.

These college boys in the next apartment are having a party, and they are all on their porch, which is like five feet away from my porch, and all I want to do is go shush them so I can read fic and put together my teaching notes in peace.

Sheesh. I'm laaame.

BUT I am also happy as Sarah and I watched some fantabulous Paul Gross action. Which partly erased the depressing horror that was Hard Core Logo.

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Dude, Sarah, "Academic Punk" ate my face. Guh.

In other, shinier news, my back and neck are knotting up like a sonofabitch. Damn. Even the tennis ball aint touching it. Time to break out the stash.

Precious Xanex.

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Oooh Golden Globes. Yea Brokeback Mountain. And Jonny Rhys Meyers, even if that WAS a terrible acceptance speech. Famous people are so pretty.

Buh. Don't want to go back to school. Teaching tomorrow. Hoorah. Must unearth my good clothes out of the depths from whence they have retreated.