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.