Christmas Spirit?

Us Santa Cruzans traveled the grueling hour and half voyage north, over mountains, past tornadoes and sand storms, through enchanted forests, to the land of H&Ms and spaghetti shacks. You might assume that a shopping trip to S.F. in December would mean I was thinking of my loved ones who would soon benefit from my money spending. But, no, this trip was mostly selfish. Or, kind of. I didn't actually buy that much -- a sweater for David (it's true, he is a loved one), and some other crap for me. Mostly, however, this trip was for hanging out. Dave was helping S. prep a room in his house for painting, while the rest of us walked through Hayes Valley, looking at things we couldn't afford. But what's all this about a "spaghetti shack"? Well seven of us squeezed into this hip little joint in the mission and ate some pasta T-Rex style. The point is, although socializing does tend to exhaust me, this weekend kind of felt like a real vacation. I didn't think about school, or reading books, or grading papers. Nor did Dave. Well done.

and now what?

After a tortuous Friday, when we all got together to enter grades into a computer for 6-1/2 hours, and then had delicious dinner, I'm all done with official school responsibilities. And this means I am totally free to work on my own stuff, unhindered by other worries. How delightful. No excuses.

In other news, I saw *Casino Royale* last night. Eh, I was thinking maybe I'd write down a few thoughts, but I don't really have any. It was a kind of long movie. But, you know, it was fun. That's all I got to say.

View from the back deck:

Not there yet

I've recently managed to eke out yet another version of my QE topic on the space of the room. It still doesn't make sense, which I shamefully admitted in my meeting today with one of my advisors. Why won't it make sense? Cause it's crazy, that's why. I'm talking crazy.
In the meantime, I have a pile -- tho' not too big -- of papers to grade and evals to write by Friday morning. It's not as impossible as it sounds, I just don't want to do it. It's brain-hurting.

Tea-Day

I didn't do shit this weekend. L&C came over on Saturday to watch the Arkansas college football game, which meant we started drinking around 3:30 and didn't stop until 9. Which also led to the pang of guilt I felt the next day about the ways I abuse my body, you know my sacred temple, my vessel of virtue, etc. Solution? I went to the local health food store and bought some Detox tea. That oughta do the trick, no?