My good friend M just defended her thesis. I remember her first year in grad school: she and another girl her year came over and watched The Ring with roommate F and myself. I had met her a few weeks earlier at some new student pub crawl and she immediately blew my mind by offering me a pull of the Glenlivet from her personal flask. I'm not sure how the movie night was supposed to have worked out, as everyone in the room was single at the time (I think) and Ringu should have had us leaping on top of each other in fear.
We did become fast friends, especially after I discovered that she was willing to put up with watching Pac-10 basketball in return for me favoring Duke, and she's put up with some pretty mopey moments over the years wherein I whined about Counterfly girls, without yelling at me too much. She also put up with me damning her first homebrewing efforts with faint praise. But that's all inside baseball. At this moment, I couldn't be prouder of her. Welcome to the club, M.
My apartment stinks to high heaven of chili oil. But the meal was so fucking good I don't care.
I'm watching my third ep of House in a row.
I'm going to Prince/ton next weekend. What bar should I go to? The trashy undergrad one, the trashy grad student one, or the trashy townie one? Or are they all the same bar?
Monday, October 15, 2007
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