Buddy Holly, is there any room on your plane?

One of the Worst Feelings Ever: REalizing that a book that you need to have read AND written a two-page response journal for is not actually on your bookshelf...because....YOU NEVER BOUGHT IT.

Dammit, dammit, dammit. I think the bookstore might be open tomorrow, but I'm really not sure...I know I can pick it up on Monday and have it read for Tuesday, no problem, I just don't WANT to do that. I hate it when things like this happen, especially since it means my Saturday night reading is Ella Hepworth Dixon's The Story of a Modern woman instead of some Toni Morrison. I'm just not sure about this whole 19th century thing...

There is a club (sort of, I think it's really just someone's apartment) downtown that is having an event entitled "What the Thunder Said." Unfortunately, it won't be my kind of music, though I am tempted to go just for the sheer awesomeness of the name.

Then again, I've been fantasticizing lately about making a music video that would borrow extensively from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, so what do I know?