15 November 2001 - 5:04 p.m.

Gus says he'll make me whatever my heart desires for dinner tonight. Problem is, I'm not hungry.

Remember "The Hunger Artist?" My God, I used to hate that story. It made me laugh out loud the first time I read it. I was busy being a full-time nanny, so, you know, I wasn't really thinking in terms of metaphor or anything. I sure as hell never thought that hating "The Hunger Artist" would come back to bite me in the ass.

I think I read "The Hunger Artist" the same summer as I read The Tempest. Now there is a play - colonization, language, what it means to be part of a society. Which brings up an important point: I'm going to graduate ontime! Prof. McHotHot has arranged for me to combine his class next semester with the extra work I'm doing for him and Prof. DeptHead. (God, that sounds derogatory. It was only meant to indicate that said professor is the head of my department, not that his head is... dept...?)

Anyhoo, you can read about the extra project I'm doing if you click on "Older" and find the entry "All the Profs Love Me. Oh Yes." Yeah, I could link to it. Or you could click on "Older" and find "All the Profs Love Me. Oh Yes."

The other bonus is that my friend Matt, who is BRITISH, will be taking P. McHH's class with me. Well, hopefully. He's on the waitlist.

"I can get you in," I said.

"Really? I'm number 17," he said.

"Hmm. That sucks. I may have to sleep with him."

"Well, if he's as hot as you say, that shouldn't be a problem."

Why are British people so randy?

Not like I wasn't thinking the same thing. But, you know.

Aw, crap. Am I projecting now? Am I projecting my randyhood* on my poor friend Matt?

I'm going to go hang out with my boyfriend and think about food I don't want to eat.

*I know this is not a word. But it should be!

What I'm wearing:

What I'm reading:

What I'm doing after this: