12 May 2003 - 8:34 p.m.

Well, I dedicated my thesis to Geoff Sheridan and turned it in. Here's hoping intrigue ensues. Oh, and that I graduate.

Here's a line for y'all:

"I think I would have taken your essay more seriously if you weren't dressed like a cowboy."

Do you ever think of something in your head, and are to nice to say it, but are glad you thought of it anyway, because some day a character in a play or screenplay or piece of fiction who is loosely based on you can say it, and you will feel totally validated?

Anyone?

No?

Okay, moving on, I'm glad I didn't kill anything today. Spotted Ass Woman was talking about how, when she last turned in a thesis, on her way home she hit a deer and totalled her car, and even though it was a sucky experience, especially for the deer, it seemed like a poetic end to stuff.

I, on the other hand, had a really poetic lunch complete with cheesecake with a couple of the other assholes and then watched a movie for my film final. Which is all the closure I need, I swear.

In the new book I'm writing, I need something unfortunate to happen to a car. I'm really jealous of Michael Chab0n for coming up with the somebody-jumping-on-the-hood-and-leaving-a-buttprint scene from Wonderboys. That is comedic gold, y'all.

Oh, also I might dye my hair blonde. I feel like I should sometime in my life, since I've been brown, black, red, strawberry blonde, and that kind of maroon shade that was so popular 7 or 8 years ago, and no way do I want to have some kind of mid-life crisis where I decide I want to be Marilyn Monroe. I mean, the quarter-life crisis will do just fine for some platinum fun.

What I'm wearing: White eyelet dress.

What I'm reading: Stress-free silence.

What I'm doing after this: Having another ultra-premium malt beverage, whatever that means.