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N. left for Thailand today, via Chicago. That is, she's spending a night in Chicago before she hops the flight to the exotic city of Bancock. I'm sure she'll come back with something for me, but it's always odd when people ask what you want from a strange place you're pretty sure you'll never be. I find myself saying, "Um . . . whatever they do over there--I'll take one of those." I'm expecting a keychain. I'm hoping for something Kama Sutra-esque. Wait with bated breath, dear readers.

So, the absence of N. means I can sleep at my own place tonight. When you clean off the books and papers, I think there's a bed under there somewhere.

I went shopping this weekend (food and clothing) and ended up missing four social events. So much for my thrilling social life, we can officially sing its death knell. Maybe I'm just getting old, or maybe I'm just bored of the bar scene and its accompanying drama, or maybe I've been screwed over so often that my misanthropy is flaring . . . whatever it is, I just do not have the urge to be around people (with some notable exceptions).

I taught my first class at UT tonight. Critical Thinking this time. Because of my usual dissatisfaction with the way . . . well, everything is done, I'm spending the entire 6 weeks not looking at the dreaded informal fallacies, but rather approaching the study of reasoning from a rather odd angle: where it seems to fail. For this reason, we will be looking at various philosphical paradoxes this summer. Nobody walked out: that's a good sign.

I'm gonna try to clear some of the TiVo tonight, and to progress further on the Monk biography of Wittgenstein. If you haven't read it, do. It's magnificent.

Smoke 'em if you got 'em.