This one's for you, Dino.

For some reason I get embarassed when I get drunk on a weeknight. Maybe it�s because I�m older now and I should know better. Perhaps it�s because I don�t really drink that much on such occasions, but just enough to be hung over the next day. Perhaps it�s because I feel crappy in the morning. Whatever. I should get over it. It was worth it to go to the Dollar Store last night and drink PBRs and hear unpretentious people read well-written, funny stories.

The walk home from the Hideout is a strange, solitary one, kind of long but enjoyable nonetheless. But this freakish springlike weather has got to go. I know it�s too much to ask for snow on Thanksgiving weekend, but it has to at least be colder.

I think I hate the phrase "polish up the old resume" more than the act itself.

For as much as I bitch about my job, it could be a lot worse: I could still be working at Barnes & Noble. This job doesn�t ask much of me besides data entry and photocopying, which�wait a minute, that's my grievance with it in the first place: I�m not utilizing any skills. But on the other hand, it gives me lots of time to update my blog, which as we know is the primary duty of all Americans age 18-34 who are even minimally tech-savvy.

This entry reminds me of the age-old aphorism: "If you have nothing exciting to blog about, just muse aimlessly about banal minutiae."

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