amplified to rock
Tim came over last night, and we went out to see
Planet of the Apes. (No, you're not gonna get a movie review here, because I'm not into that stuff.) We took my car because I knew where I was going. Anyhow, when I got in the car, it stunk. Like wine.
I bought several bottles of not-cheap-but-significantly-marked-down wine at the local grocery store last weekend, and I had kept them in the trunk for some reason, probably because I'm not planning to drink them until I move in TWO WEEKS. There didn't seem to be much sense in bringing them into the house only to take them back out to the car.
Well, I opened the trunk, and one of the wine bottles had uncorked itself, probably due to the excessive heat in the trunk of the car. After I spent about five minutes laughing at what had happened, I cleaned up the mess, which really wasn't too big of a deal. A couple of books that were in the trunk of my car were completely damaged, and the infamous Deflating Air Mattress needs to be hosed off (which it probably needed anyhow), but I didn't notice any wine stains on the trunk itself. It still reeked in the car this morning, only now the odor is more vinegar-y than wine, so I just need to Febreze the hell out of my trunk and maybe throw an air freshener back there.
I helped a man with a tremendously awful toupee today. I worked with him last week, and I thought his hair looked a little too luxurious. He said "hell" in front of me and then apologized for swearing! I love that. It's so amusing, because I have just about the foulest mouth in the Tri-State area.
I updated Ancillary yesterday, for those of you who read it.
Jackie has moved to a new location: http://www.filtered-water.org. Filtered Water is one of the few personal pages I keep up with when I'm going through an "anti-Internet" phase.
Somebody from hud.gov got to this site looking for "my naked girl homepage legal." Nice to know those government employees are making such great use of their time.
Oh, and the weather still sucks, and will probably continue to suck because it's summer. I can't wear my snappy interview suit to my interview on Friday because it will be too damn hot and I don't want to show up for the interview sweating like a wild boar. Somehow, I think that would make them not want to employ me. Also, muchas gracias to Arvid for his assistance in remedying my employment situation. I will find gainful employment in ye olde small central Illinois college town!
I'm sure you can excuse my taking Monday off, considering the massive amount of posts that appeared on this site over the weekend. This is going to be a quick one, because I get to go home in approximately twelve minutes, and I'm looking forward to walking to my burning-hot car in the nasty sweltering heat and humidity. Please, someone, invent an air-conditioned TransportBubble to take me from the building to the car in cool, comfortable bliss.
Today is payday, which meant that I got to trek over to the Cashier's Office to pick up my paycheck. Judging from my experiences with the cashier's office, the requirements of the job include the ability to receive personal phone calls on a constant basis, the ability to ignore people waiting in line to pick up paychecks/pay bills because you're too busy talking to your husband/kids about whose turn it is to water the lawn, and the ability to completely turn your back on any line longer than two people because it's vital that you talk to the other cashier (who happens to be between personal phone calls at the time). Ugh.
I have a job interview on Friday. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
There's a new fish here in the office. It's one of those blue Japanese fighting fish, and he's been named Samurai. I like the way he uses his fins and tail. Seriously! When he wants to dart through the water quickly, he sort of retracts them so he's more bullet-shaped, and then he just shoots through the water. When he just wants to swim slowly and make fishy-faces at me, he relaxes them and they swish around all over the place. (I make fishy-faces back at him. There is no word yet as to what my co-workers think of that.)
I need to start writing my thesis. I told myself that it would be *finished* by today. I've written a whole TWO PARAGRAPHS. The research is pretty much finished, but I need to sit my ass down and do the work. Of course, it's not going to get done tonight, because Tim is coming down for a yummy Steak 'n Shake dinner, and then we're headed to the movies to see Planet of the Apes.
Two weeks until I move. AND I STILL DON'T HAVE ANY CLASSES!
It's almost over, so I'm going to take this time to thank everyone who sponsored me: Matt from
Scrubbles, Tim, Jackie from
Filtered Water, Dave, Wombat File, Colleen,
DocumentaryFilms.net, Rabi from
Wockerjabby, Garrett, Trish, Eric and Emily, Sophie from
Kerplink, Paul from
Phonezilla, Yuccacentric, and Amanda! I appreciate your support.
Here's a quick recap of the last 24 hours: I found evidence of rodentia, baked a cheesecake, packed, cleaned, vacuumed, sold CDs, watched The World's Worst Television Show, watched Requiem for a Dream, ate frozen pizza, played Sorry and Uno, did some web design stuff, read, played a video game, watched the Weather Channel, listened to some CDs, drank a lot of tea, and reminisced about music that meant something to me. So it has been a busy day indeed. The only thing I really wanted to do that I did not do is work on my thesis. I'm going to have to spend some major time working on that in the next couple of weeks.
I'm going to nap for three hours, then it's back to reality for me. Thanks to everyone who emailed, called, or otherwise kept me awake. I hope you've all enjoyed my forty-nine posts in twenty-four hours. For those of you who are interested, the cheesecake auction is ongoing, and the high bid is still $15. Send me your bid.
NOW...SLEEP.
I just caught myself staring at the monitor with my mouth hanging open.
It will be nice to take a nap.
Spoon – Girls Can Tell
Summer 2001
I bought this album based on recommendations of people with trustworthy musical taste. I listened to it once or twice and didn’t really get into it, so I set it aside. I picked it up again this past June, and it’s rarely left my CD player. When I was preparing my birthday mix earlier this month, I had the hardest time deciding which song I wanted to include from this album because I like every one of them. It’s a fun album, and it reminds me of one of the best summers I’ve had in a long time. I know it’s one of those albums that I’ll listen to five years from now and think about the summer of 2001, about this huge new world opening up for me.
Queen – "Bohemian Rhapsody"
Winter 1992
Heather was an amazing roommate. She was part mom, part goofy pal, and was the sort of person who was always there. We weren’t superclose, but she was one of the people who helped me survive my freshman year in college.
She came back from Winter break with Queen’s Greatest Hits. This was during the time that Wayne’s World was the big thing, and she would play "Bohemian Rhapsody" and sing along and dance. It was hilarious and it always made me feel better, no matter what I was going through. I can’t hear the song without thinking of her headbanging, her blonde curls flying around. And yes, I know all the words.
Badly Drawn Boy – "The Shining"
November 2000
It was right before everything collapsed. I bought the Badly Drawn Boy album because I had heard so many good things about it. I was driving home from Chicago, and there was an accident on the Steel Bridge. "The Shining" was playing when I drove past the wreckage. It just seemed to fit the scene for some reason—it made everything feel like it was in slow motion Thankfully, I don’t associate the song with violent car crashes, but it was a moment where the music fit reality perfectly.
The Cure – "A Few Hours After This"
December 1992
Danny lived in St. Louis. We met at a rave, and fell for each other pretty quickly. Our relationship ended as quickly as it began, late on a Saturday night in December. He broke up with me for reasons I can’t remember, though I think it involved some girl he knew in high school who he had a thing for. Anyway. When Robin and I drove home from St. Louis that night, I insisted on playing this song over and over, and Robin indulged my melodramatic desires. She was good like that.
I ended up writing a story called "A Few Hours After This" based on that evening. It is very melodramatic, but I liked it at the time. No, you cannot read it. It’s embarrassing.
Ministry – "So What?"
February 1990
I know it’s hard to believe, but Ministry was
the shit when I was in high school. I find them unlistenable now, but back then, I thought this song was amazing. I was a junior in high school, and I was dating a college guy. He was punk rock, and he did a lot to help shape my musical tastes.
He’d come up from U of I on the weekends, and we’d go on dates. These dates would usually involve going out into the middle of a cornfield and fooling around. We might stop at Dairy Queen before or after. He would leave the car stereo on when we were making out, and this song was on just about every mix tape he had. Not very romantic, was it?
Elliott – "Calm Americans"
December 2000
I was not having a good time. I was jobless, I was broke, and I was approximately 300 miles away from the guy I was dating. It was winter, the days were short, and sunlight was scarce. It was also the snowiest December I could remember—it seemed like there was snow every single day, without fail.
I listened to
False Cathedrals by Elliott a lot late at night when I’d sit around chatting on AIM with Brian. In the afternoons, if I had to go somewhere, I’d bring the CD down to the car with me and I’d play it loud, in contrast with the calm, snowy scene. "Calm Americans" reminds me of driving down Sauk Trail during a snowstorm when I was applying for work at my current job, and the sense of relief I felt knowing that I’d soon be somewhat gainfully employed.
Liz Phair - Whitechocolatespaceegg
April 1999
It was the roadtrip of a lifetime: Chicago to Phoenix in five days. Amanda was moving, and I was along for the ride. We had an array of CDs with us, but this is the one that always reminds me of that trip. The truth is, I didn’t care for
Whitechocolatespaceegg before this. Now, I associate it so much with Amanda and the great times we had on that trip that it’s become a favorite of mine.
This Mortal Coil – "Not Me"
November 1997
There’s this ongoing joke in my house that I cause bad things to happen to people when I get mad at them. This stems from the fact that Greg wrecked his car three times in a row, and all three times it happened, it was right after I had a fight with him. It wasn’t one of those situations where he drove off in anger and wrecked his car—he probably didn’t give a shit that I was mad at him, and he was just a reckless driver, and I had nothing to do with it—but damn if the timing wasn’t convenient.
One Sunday afternoon in November of 1997, we went to inspect the wreckage of his beloved car, which was totalled and would not be repaired. He had to get all his personal belongings out of the car. The wreckage was terrifying—he was lucky he hadn’t been killed or seriously injured in the accident. While he sifted through the junk strewn throughout his car, I sat in my car and listened to "Not Me" by This Mortal Coil on repeat.
Sloan – Navy Blues
July 2000
Nobody likes to go in to work on Saturdays. Nobody, that is, except my former boss, who was an insane workaholic who expected overtime and weekend hours from every employee, regardless of their need to be there. I decided to do my duty one Saturday in July 2000, and I went in for a couple of hours. I didn’t do much work—I mostly just took advantage of the fast Internet connection—and I brought some CDs with me. I figured that I was on my time, so I should be allowed to listen to music while I worked.
Of the four or five CDs I brought with me, Navy Blues was the only one I played. Matt had bought it for me the week before, and I was really into it. As soon as it ended, I’d just hit play again and start it over. I was so into it that I went out after work and bought the rest of Sloan’s albums. I still like Navy Blues best, though.
Elliott Smith – "Waltz #2 (XO)"
October 1998
I had just started hanging out with Matt on a regular basis, and he was totally into Elliott Smith. "You have to buy
XO," he said. "You’ll love it."
Since Matt and I tend to have similar tastes in music, I picked it up right away. And while I enjoyed the album as a whole, it was "Waltz #2 (XO)" that really stuck in my head. I’d play it over and over to memorize the lyrics so I could sing along. It was kind of a weird time—I had just been dumped, and I was feeling a little bit down on myself, but for some reason, this song always made me feel better.
The Who – "Baba O’Riley"
Summer 2000
Ray introduced me to The Who. If I have anything to thank him for, it’s that. Well, that, and the Math@MSU t-shirt he gave me, because I sleep in it all the time. He put "Baba O’Riley" on a mix CD that he made for me, and I would listen to it whenever I drove down Lake Shore Drive late at night. It reminds me of Buckingham Fountain, of the S-curve, of the Drake Hotel, and the shimmer of the lake. It reminds me of cool, moist summer air blowing in through the car windows and ruffling my hair. It reminds me of freedom, and it reminds me of home, and it reminds me why I will always love Chicago.
Liz Phair – "Shatter"
Halloween Weekend 2000
The particulars are not of concern here, in fact, I’d rather not talk about them. Sorry if I seem like I’m being coy, it’s just that there’s some shit I’d rather not stir too briskly, if you know what I mean. Some things happened, my feelings got hurt, and I spent an evening driving around with this song playing on repeat, wondering if all the questions I had were ever going to get answered. The lyrics got stuck in my head, and when the song ended, I had to play it again and again, just to keep hearing the words, because it was exactly what I was feeling.
I know that I don't always realize
How sleazy it is, messing with these guys
But something about just being with you
Slapped me hard in the face, nearly broke me in two
It's a mark
I've taken hard
And I know I will carry with me for a long, long time
I don't know if I could drive a car
Fast enough to get to where you are
Or wild enough not to miss the boat completely
Honey, I'm thinking maybe
You know, just maybe
I don't know if I could fly a plane
Well enough to tailspin out your name
Or high enough to lose control completely
Honey, I'm thinking maybe
You know, just maybe
Maybe.
Elliott Smith – "Oh Well, Okay"
Spring 2000
I’m not always smart about relationships, as the next two entries will suggest. Numero uno concerns my on-again, off-again relationship with Ray, which provided fodder for my
old journal back in the day. I think he broke up with me three times, and this would be the third breakup, which happened about a week after he told me I was the "best girlfriend ever" or something like that. It happened while I was visiting him out in Michigan, so I had a nice long three-hour drive to ruminate on what had happened.
Of course, I chose to use that time to dwell on how upset I was, so I broke out the Elliott Smith and started brooding along. I think "Oh Well, Okay" made me cry. Actually, I’m sure it made me cry. It could probably make me cry today if I thought about it enough. It’s a beautiful song, and it just encapsulated my feelings so well at that moment.
Underworld – "Dirty Epic"
Fall 1997
Club 950 was my favorite dance club. The atmosphere was relaxed, the crowd was diverse, and I felt free to hang out and dance without being hit on by sleazy guys. Oh, and I had a raging crush on the resident DJ. I eventually met him, and we became friends, and I went to 950 every week to hang out with him. "Dirty Epic" was a staple during those evenings, a long, floating, thumping dance song with semi-unintelligible lyrics and obscure references. If I listen to it, I can see the regulars dancing along—Pat in his baggy raver jeans, Riccardo dancing under the spotlight that was labeled "Riccardo spot" on the light board, Abe standing in the booth, headphones on one ear, pulling CDs out of his huge case.
Sarah Dougher – "Girl in New Orleans"
September 1999
Matt was living in Andersonville when I brought
Day One by Sarah Dougher over. He seemed to like the first two songs, but it was the third one, "Girl in New Orleans," that really caught him. We decided to go out and see
American Beauty out in the suburbs that night, and we listened to "Girl in New Orleans" no fewer than six or seven times that night. He eventually learned how to play it on guitar, and I sang along as best I could. As in, usually off key.
Every time we hear that song, we still comment about how it reminds us of that particular night in September 1999. We didn’t end up seeing American Beauty, but we did drive around a lot.
Cocteau Twins - Treasure
Christmastime 1995
I was on break from my miserable teaching job, and I had decided to spend some time visiting Greg, who lived about an hour and a half away in a small town called Ottawa. There wasn’t much to do out there, so when Greg was at work, I’d usually just sit around his apartment and read or watch movies.
My mother had asked me to stop at a Hallmark store while I was out there because she wanted some Christmas ornament that she was having a hard time locating. The only Hallmark store in Ottawa was in this deserted strip mall on the north end of town. It was snowing lightly, and I drove out there with Treasure playing. It just seemed to fit so well—the cold, the grey, the beauty.
Front 242 – "Headhunter"
October 1993
Robin moved out of the dorms during our junior year and into a house lovingly named The Symposium. While The Symposium wasn't a party house on the level of, say, Killian's (most party houses were named after beer), a lot of debauchery and revelry took place there, much of it in Robin’s bedroom. I don't recall the exact circumstances, the date, or the state of mind, but Amanda and I were sitting around looking out of Robin's window. We might have been on the roof, because that was a fairly popular hangout.
Front by Front was on the stereo--we were all into industrial music during that time.
At some point, The Symposium's resident cat, Chelsea, walked up the front sidewalk. Amanda and I looked at each other and sang "We’re looking for this cat / to sell it to another cat / for ten times its price at least." Unrehearsed. We hadn't discussed it. But we were both thinking the same thing, for some odd reason.
Ween - "Big Jilm"
March 1993
Robin and I moved in together when Robin's roommate got pregnant. Everyone decided that it would be for the best if Robin and I shared a room, because we were together all the time anyhow. Besides, my roommate was never home, so Michele would have all the peace and quiet she would require. Living together was cool. We painted our window with a huge Ween symbol and the words "Robin and Nanette's Groovy Psychedelic Love Pad." It looked cool, but it was a bitch to clean up at the end of the school year.
For a two-month period, we were way into Ween's Pure Guava. It was the basis for any number of ridiculous in-jokes, and we listened to it constantly. We sent away for the lyrics, which we posted on the wall.
On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, Robin went to her stats class at 9 AM. I would usually sleep right through her morning rituals, so her schedule didn't bother me. My first class was at 11, so she would always come home from stats and wake me up by putting "Big Jilm" on the stereo. I don't know how it started, but it went on for the bulk of the semester. Hearing it still reminds me of waking up in that crappy little dorm room bed, underneath my subway-size Morrissey poster.
Morrissey - "Late Night, Maudlin Street"
Summer 1992
Robert was
obsessed with Morrissey. It was almost unhealthy, but I was just as obsessed as he was, so I didn't really notice all that much. We spent many summer nights driving around in his car, listening to
Viva Hate or
Bona Drag or any one of the Smiths albums, and we did things like take black and white photographs of each other in cemeteries. Very typical teen angst bullshit, but we both felt deep and meaningful when we would do it.
There was one quirk of Robert's that I never quite got, and that was his inability to stop the tape in the middle of "Late Night, Maudlin Street." No matter where we were, we had to wait the entire song out. And it's not a short song--it's this massive epic of a song, so sometimes we would arrive at our destination and sit in the car for eight or nine minutes waiting for it to end. I wonder if he still does that.
I've just had a really kickass idea thrown at me that will make the rest of the Blogathon a lot more interesting. Tim (who is getting his name dropped constantly tonight--I'm not usually this bad, I'm not one of those obnoxious girls who's all "my boyfriend this, my boyfriend that") recommended that I do some posts where I talk about songs or albums that make me think of particular people, places, or things. So that's what I'm going to do. Starting...now.
Sonic Youth - "Schizophrenia"
April 1995
I was living in Decatur at the time, in the basement of a little tiny box of a house. Rent was an astonishing $75/month, and I shared the house with three roommates, including my ex-boyfriend. We had both moved on, but we still fought a lot because we knew exactly how to push each other's buttons.
I had gone home for a long weekend. Before I left, I had locked up all my Chips Ahoy and ginger ale, because Don had a habit of consuming them when I wasn't looking. Yeah, he was a jerk. Anyhow, it was something like 2:00 on a Monday afternoon, and my dad had just dropped me off, and I was in a bad mood because I didn't want to go back to Decatur. So I went into my little section of the basement and turned on Sister by Sonic Youth, which was my favorite album at the time. I turned it on, and I turned it on loud, because I figured I was alone in the house and it was mid-afternoon anyhow.
Within thirty seconds, Don was standing in my pseudo-doorway, arms crossed, looking pissed. (You have to understand: I had no door. I had a hallway. The only reason people couldn't see directly into my part of the basement was because I had hung a bunch of clothes from the exposed pipe at the entrance to the hallway. Don had no sense of courtesy and would regularly just walk on in to my space.)
"Turn that down!" he demanded. "Kim's in the other room, trying to sleep!"
"No," I replied. "Kim doesn't live here, it's 2:00 in the afternoon, and this is my house. I don't need to show any courtesy towards her, she doesn't pay part of the rent."
This lead to yet another lengthy argument, which probably lead to his stomping out of the house like a baby, with Kim in tow. They left, so I won.
I wrote a really cool post, and then lost it because I'm currently working on another weblog from another Blogger account. (No, it's not some top-secret fictional weblog project--it's the Blogger-powered news page for the library site I've been designing.) So I have to start it over from scratch and see if I can recreate it.
I just got an email from Tim. He's home, and he's still freaked out by Requiem for a Dream. I'd still be freaked out about it too if I had time to think about it. He had a nice 45-minute long drive to sit there, all alone, thinking about the movie. They really should show that movie in schools. I doubt that anyone would think that snorting coke, shooting heroin, or ingesting large amounts of diet pills is glamorous by the time that movie's done fucking with their heads.
Oh, and Tim would like you to know the following:
--He won the Uno game, not Bun. And yes, he does stockpile his Skip and Draw Two cards so he can play them on me. Apparently, he finds it cute and amusing when I make pissy faces during games. Grr.
--He really wanted to be on the webcam, but I didn't turn it on while he was here.
--Next year, he's going to stay up all night with me. (Isn't it cool that I can say that we're going to do something together in a year and actually believe that it's going to happen? That's something totally new.)
Over halfway through the Blogathon, and I'm still awake, thankfully. We'll see how I feel in another six or seven hours. I've turned on every light in my bedroom to make it as bright as possible, thinking that the more light I have, the easier it will be for me to stay awake.
Late nights in front of the computer remind me of last November and December, the period of time right after I lost my job. I would sit wrapped up in a blanket in front of the computer chatting on AIM and listening to music, sometimes until the sun came up. Things were really different for me back then, and I don't mean that in a superficial way. I was just out of a bad relationship, I was just out of a bad job, I felt helpless, like I was floating somewhere in the middle of the ocean, and I was ready to grab on to anything that came anywhere near me. I hope I never have to live like that again.
I just put on What Would the Community Think by Cat Power because "Nude as the News" was going through my head. I also just put on some of the Peanut Butter and Jelly scented lip balm that I wore constantly last winter. Now all I need to do is replace Cat Power with Elliott or Weezer and switch the air conditioning over to the heater.
My stomach is making noises like it's possessed by some kind of weird demon. I think it's all the tea and soda I've been drinking. Yuck.
The up side is: I'm not tired. At all. Which is really strange, considering how completely wiped I was a couple of hours ago. I've been doing some work on the web site I'm designing for the library where my mom works. It's one of those things I've put on the back burner for months while I dick around with other things. Now that summer's almost gone (and I can't believe that, where did it go?) I've got to finish all the things that I was planning to do this summer. And I've got to make excuses for why I won't be finishing all the things that I said I would finish.
See, that's the thing about summer. It starts out all full of promise, it's this time where you're going to get everything done because you'll have so much more energy. But there's also tons more things to do. You get distracted, and all the plans end up falling by the wayside. I know that I'm not going to finish everything before I move. I'll be lucky if I get one of my two theses done, and I'll be lucky if I'm able to go through the whole defense thing before I move. If I can get this web site done, that's one big thing that I've managed to finish. One out of three isn't so hot, though. I had such huge plans.
I'm just bad with managing time, and I'm too easily distracted.
Tea.
Tea tea tea tea tea.
Tim just left. He's going to call me when he wakes up tomorrow morning. By that time, I should be completely whacked out from lack of sleep.
All-nighters do not treat me well. I can only remember doing one all-nighter in college (not counting all-nighters of the "drunk and partying" variety). It was during the Fall semester of my sophomore year, and Robin and I decided to stay up all night just for shits and grins. We did have some big assignment due the next day, but we didn't really work on it until around 6 in the morning. We spent most of the night sitting on the bathroom counters with our feet in the sink. I think she talked me into cutting my hair that night.
The morning after, we went to breakfast. It was one of maybe three times in my entire college career that I went to breakfast. We spent the entire time laughing because we were so crazy from sleep deprivation, and we ended up ditching most of our afternoon classes in order to get some rest.
I'm going to find a little somethin' somethin' to do now that I'm all alone. Hmmmm...TV? Movie? Book? More tea?
I'm glad that I won't be going to sleep right after watching
Requiem for a Dream. I'd probably have nightmares about gangrene-infected arms.
I've only got about twenty minutes left of the movie. After it's over, Tim will probably leave, and I'll be spending the next eight to ten hours sitting around my bedroom, quietly, all by myself, trying to stay awake somehow. Depending on how I feel, I may pop on to AIM around 4 AM or something. We'll see. I tend to not like being on AIM because it turns into such a time vacuum, but it might help me stay awake.
Back to the movie now.
I forgot to mention that Bun won the Uno game. Everyone else had about fifty cards in their hand.
Tim: So what are you writing about now?
Nanette: I don't know. I don't really have anything to write about now.
I really want to just get back to watching my movie. I know, that's lame. I promise I'll be more verbose later tonight, when I'm bored and alone and have nothing better to do. I'll be sitting around thinking and thinking and thinking and I'll probably post something really frighteningly introspective. But I'll do that later.
Though I am tempted to just sit here and keep typing, because Tim is scratching my back and I like that. Rar!
Requiem for a Dream = still good.
Cheesecake = good.
Tea = too hot. Burned my lip. Ouch!
I'm not tired any more, though. I'm ready to face the long night.
I can't believe I'm such a wuss. I'm starting to get tired already, so I'm brewing some tea for myself. We put on
Requiem for a Dream about twenty minutes ago, so we're in the middle of that. So far, it's interesting, but I'm trying to keep all the characters straight.
I don't know what I'm going to do once Tim leaves. I'm going to have to find things to do that will keep me awake. Maybe I'll watch another movie or see what's on late-night TV. Maybe I can find a really interesting book that will keep me up all night. I know I've got to have one around here--I have enough books.
Tea's done--time to caffeinate myself.
