I find myself sitting on my sofa, glasses on (contacts OUT), stomach queasy from overindulging in pasta/chocolate/hot tea/Diet Coke today. Ten days till London/Scotland trip. I'm looking forward to it, but it seems so far off still - so much going on at work. Sort of watching Real Time with Bill Mayer. Sort of just killing time till I get tired enough to go lay down and sleep.

Tomorrow night I'm going to a Bruce Springsteen listening party. I'm not even a Springsteen fan, but what if it's an album of amazingly good music that totally reinvents Springsteen, without seeming contrived to appeal to the youth market?! I can't miss that! And if it sucks (more likely) at least I'll be the first on my block. I want it to be good, though. Career artists are few and far between. Lucky for me, it's on the Sony lot in Culver City, so regardless of quality it is a short drive home afterwards.

Of course, there is also a Hot Hot Heat in-store at Amoeba at the same time - but I just went to Amoeba last week for the Dears in-store last week & after determining that the Dears are a little too prog-rock Mamas & Papas for me, I went on to spend $70 on new CDS. I'm supposed to be saving my dough for England. Oy!

All righty, time for CSI New York - the one that actually depresses me. In my humble opinion, CSI Miami is the best of the franchise. Not best in a geniune way, but best in that "Showgirls" way - so bad that it's good. Caruso's delivery of whatever line it is that leads into the Who theme song...wow...amazingly, shockingly bad delivery that makes me retroactively wonder if he indeed WAS as good as I remember him being on NYPD Blue.

G'Night!