for whatever reason, whenever I learn that a film or written work deals primarily with one of the following subjects I automatically stop wanting to see/read it: war, drug trafficking, icebergs. I know I'm missing out on a lot because of that; I'm working on it.

even after learning how the minute maid company came up with its name, I still think it's dumb.

it's about time that people started giving the wallflowers the respect they deserve. I just may have to buy all their records (already have one, so need four).

remember the tv series "father dowling mysteries?" I loved that show. similarly, remember "sister kate?" not so great; I still remember the milli vanilli episode.

dinner tonight with justin, josh, rachel, mad dog, and noel was very amusing. first time I'd seen people that I don't work and/or live with in forever. so a step in the right direction. life has become more insular, if that's possible. other than forwards and mailing list stuff, I've gotten two e-mails since my birthday. I only ever talk to my mom and justin (occasionally josh, naturally). it's like I'm back in high school. I just feel like I should be more social. and I wish that I had the time. so it goes.

latest absurd purchase: an ionic pro air purifier. will post an update on its efficacy once it's been established.

less than two months now until our week in cancun. I'm anxious to wake up every day with margaritas, lie in the sun with dacquiris, and fall asleep under the influence of fuzzy navels. I'm not an alcoholic, but when it's all inclusive you want to get your money's worth.

given that something as distant as the moon controls the tides, is it reasonable to say that extended periods of happiness and displeasure in my life are controlled by a complete stranger's hair or lack thereof? there's the most delicious boy in gso (short, muscley, that marvelously blond hair that nearly always darkens after childhood) whom I first noticed several years ago as a coffeehouse regular when he had long hair (and no beard). "what a shame," I thought, "with biceps like those and a bum like that to spoil the package with that icky hair!"

some months later I saw him working at teeter--short hair. mmm. nice. life was good. then he grew this dreadful beard, spoiling everything again. thus began the winter of my discontent. few men should have full beards. only my dad and jonathan frakes, I think. but I kept my eye on him in vain hope.

then last week, when I stopped in for some groceries. new haircut. clean shaven. I was elated, I tell you. my buoyant mood has persisted. which leads me to wonder about a subconscious connection.

in a similar vein, I have to say it: nick lachey is hot. now I have to go and hang myself for the shame of admitting it. anybody got some rope?