03 March 2003 - 8:06 p.m.

Well, my reluctance to allow myself to be taken P.O.W(eather). this weekend piad off in that, instead of going to AWP like I have been wanting to for the past two or three years, I got to puke my guts out while in the care of doctors (Gus' fine folks), and not stuck in the 'Noke with Hatbox. I won't disgust you with the details, but Gus will probably confirm that I begged, on multiple occasions, to be taken to the backyard and shot. Gus probably thought, "Dear me, what an unfunny joke!"

Unfunny, perhaps. Joke, perhaps not.

I guess I got through class okay, especially considering that it was truncated. Are let us out of our second screening of La Dolce Vita, given that it's such a long motherfo. I don't think I can even comment on it until after I've thought about it for about a hundred years, except for the fact that, like most Italian movies, it made me hungry.

In turtorial, we workshopped my latest chapter Are-Tee actually asked, "Are you sending your stuff out? Because I know you're only writing chapters, but this one kind of reads like a New Yorker story." I felt like somebody ought to come away from that feeling insulted, but I'm still not sure who.

What I'm wearing: Red v-neck over white button-down, slacks, subtly mismatched socks, saddle shoes

What I'm reading: Hatbox bathing

What I'm doing after this: Ramen, maybe.