woke up at 8 (4.5 hours of sleep), showered, walked my dog, woke my brother and then went to best buy to buy Garden State and Nip/Tuck season 1. Went to starbucks, got a grande latte because they were out of soy. Came home, watched half an episode of Nip/Tuck before leaving for my Dad's house. Arrived at 11, and proceeded to have a three hour conversation in which we sorted things out about my life. Left my Dad's at 2 and came home. Made phone calls to people in Missouri and Michigan. Watched 2 more episodes of Nip/Tuck. Made a steak quesadilla for dinner (it was delicious). Watched one more episode of Nip/Tuck. Left my house and went to Starbucks. Found Peter at starbucks, where he was coordinating a large drug deal. Discussed drugs, indie music and doing people favors with a guy named Matt. Called Leslie, to see if people were coming to her house that night (they werent). Went home and started to watch Garden State. Harkin called and invited me to see The Life Aquatic. I went. It was very good. Brian and I discussed making a movie in one week's time. Brainstormed movie ideas during the drive home.

Written December 14, 2004:

Kaitlyn called at 3:30 and invited me to the Artisan to study. The motives behind this were confusing, and her agenda waited in the foyer of the coffee shop, to be revealed at a later date.
I arrived at the Artisan at 3:45, with Kait nowhere to be found. I took a seat on a couch that I thought was empty, but was infact occupied by a hippie who was in the bathroom and thus absent during my decision to occupy half of the couch. I slid over on the couch as far as possible, to avoid association by proximity and also to provide more slack in the headphones of my iPod.
A man across from me had the hippie translate something in french for him, and the hippie seemed happy to have rendered herself useful.
My iPod played Nico, then Röyksopp, then Ben Gibbard. These three people compose the soundtrack of my life, not only while on the couch, but also after finding Kaitlyn and sitting in silence while pretending to study, and while walking home, while actually studying, and while sleeping, and while waking up the next day, and while rushing into frantic oblivion only to render myself numb.

Written November 27, 2004:

...and this is how you leave Dallas, in an airplane starring out a window as the ground rushes away from you and the telephoto lense of your perspective zooms out until the image refocuses as cars, trees, roads, fields, a river; the arial view of a lonely city amidst vast countryside.
No one seems to drive to Dallas anymore, no airplanes are the prefered medium of travel here.
Look to your right to see the sun rise through the windows, cresting over the face of a woman sleeping across the isle. The effect is vaguely cinematic and reminiscent of a magazine add for blankets or sleeping pills or some other bullshit.
The man next to you crosses his chest every time he finishes a verse in his bible. He reads it constantly as though it might protect him from Islamic terrorists, dogs that wear hats, or airline food, all of which are devilish things.
Soon you will be in Missouri, and you may take consolation in the fact that it is a slightly less depressing place than an airplane cabin.