Anti-Shell Matter

I'm barricading myself in my room with my textbooks and applications this weekend. I want my Thanksgiving break to be relatively work-free. Severus Snape / Remus Lupin / Sirius Black may be able to prod me out.

The Trial is a rather boring book, but it has to be finished (and written up) by Monday. American Gods was moving slowly and disappointing me for a Gaiman book. I may try to get back into it after I read Memoir of a Geisha, as the movie is coming out soon. Red Dragon is going to be a must before Behind the Mask is released next year, and I will be looking forward to that one--when I was reading The Silence of the Lambs and Hannibal I could not put either book down. Reading a Lecter book without Starling will be odd, though. I still have books given to me as birthday gifts that I very much want to read -- The Scar and Thud! It is a crime to have an unread Pratchett book in my room.

This time next week I will have seen Depeche Mode perform live. They better play all their good, old stuff--short, if they don't play all the goodies like "Enjoy the Silence" and "Black Celebration" and "In Your Room" and "It's no Good" and "One Caress" and "Personal Jesus" and "Photographic" and "Policy of Truth" and "Precious" and "Strangelove" and "Somebody" and "The Sweetest Perfection" and you get the idea, I'll help Mr. Pain-and-Suffering-in-Various-Tempos accomplish what he never accomplished all those times he tried to kill himself.

The trebuchet was prematurely named "Milkshake" today. By Monday I would like there to be some truth to the catch-phrase "Damn right it's better than yours." It's hitting off-center and is quite the fickle bitch.

Me + keichisfuuma + xcerebraledemax + jawzdharken + chrissykitty = Depeche Mode, November 25, Glendale Arena, Glendale-fucking-Arizona, USA.

Hell. Yes.

And, on that note, it's October-the-fucking-2nd, and it's still hot as hades at 9 AM. Die, Arizona. Die.

Trenchcoat season won't some soon enough.