I'm better now, friends. I swear, I'm better now. That's good news, right?

I had an uneventful Thanksgiving, kind of a sad one, but I'm better now. It was kind of a sad one because it was the second of my life spent without my family, and the first of my life spent without turkey.

(The first of my life spent without family was spent in Champaign, Illinois, watching terrible, terrible Big Ten football. However, the press box in Champaign provided us with a fantastic Thanksgiving breakfast-dinner. Also, on that trip, we saw the "God Bless America. Footlong Sub $3.99" sign - God Bless America, indeed! And I made fun of Flax for his love of a) Blink-182, and b) Geek Bowl, which was unfair, and I hope it didn't negatively impact his view of me. Also, Nemo put me on the spot, and said, "Will Jerry Brown get fired?" roughly. I hemmed and hawed. It was a great trip. Also, that night, I ate chili. And the next night, I saw Wilco. Thanksgiving 2001 was pretty cool, really.)

I made/had-made-for-me the decision to not go home, because family Thanksgiving was sort-of canceled, and because our office was inexplicably open on Friday, and because I've got the whole MBA thing to deal with. Did I get my application essays done? Of course not, but I'm much closer now than I was a week ago, and this has made me not-unhappy. Last Sunday, when I wrote, I was unhappy.

I literally stalled all day Thursday. I watched football. And I sent my sister an email. And I read the Tribune sports section online. And I started to start essays, but not really, really. And I eventually watched Sixteen Candles, which was available on demand, and which was pretty great. And I ate a feast of lamb chops and rice and peas. And I drank a beer or two. I briefly talked to my parents and to my brother, who apparently found a great tree, and found it quite quickly. I think it's awesome that my family cuts down a Christmas tree, really, and I think it'll be great when I see it a month from now.

So, Friday, I worked a bit. Well, I mean, I went to work, and then I was supposed to run on the treadmill after work, but I instead decided to watch LSU-Arkansas, which was mindblowingly good. Texas-Texas A&M was pretty good, but Stephen McGee is no Darren McFadden, and Darren McFadden is my favorite football player ever, maybe. He's just so talented, and I was happy to get sucked into his sordid little world.

[I'm serious - if you like football, and haven't watched Darren McFadden and his Arkansas Razorbacks offense, make sure you watch their bowl game. I am so serious about this. Their offense is so wildly primitive, while also being wildly innovative. McFadden's sometimes a tailback, and sometimes a single-wing quarterback. And Felix Jones, his understudy, is so darn fast, and the way that the offense gets these two guys the ball is just so creative. So, seriously, Arkansas' bowl game should be appointment viewing if you even like football a little bit. I don't think they'll play on New Year's Day, because I think they've lost four times, but you've simply got to watch their next game because, in all likelihood, it'll be his final collegiate game. And pro offenses won't be able to make use of him in the same way.]

But then, Friday night, I banged out a first draft, though I haven't looked back to see if it's credible or anything, but I hope it is.

Then, Saturday, I stalled all day. Literally, stalled all day. Two hours lying on my floor listening to the Cats hoops team lose. Then an hour, the interceding hour, watching the Bulls lose to the Knicks. Then the Irish and Stanford, and sometimes West Virginia and Connecticut, and the latter stages of Kentucky and Tennessee. (I love West Virginia, too.) Then Kansas-Missouri, though I fell asleep before that could end. All the while, I occasionally came over and looked at my computer and started to start to think about essays or brainstorming or something, but, generally, the football was just more interesting. So I generally got nothing done.

That said, late in the evening, I found a consultancy website with tips to get into top MBA programs, so that was nice. School-specific, even.

Today, Sunday, I still didn't get that much done. I emailed Mukie with the site that I liked, and he immediately emailed back and said that it looked pretty good, and then pointed me to a pretty good book with tips and whatnot. So, first I went to the library to see if they had it, and they didn't (though they did have Donovan CDs, and I had heard Donovan's "Catch the Wind" on a commercial this morning, and he's kind of great, it seems, though nothing I've not heard before), and then I went to Borders, and they did. And the cashier asked me if I needed gift wrap, and I responded, "Whoa, that would be, like, the worst gift ever." And we shared a laugh, and then I went home and watched more football.

(And the Bears were awesome. Devin Hester is the best ever.)

But, the point is, the tough part of this process is the story-crafting. The narrative-ing. The determining what you want to say, in a compelling way. And I'm almost there. I've done some note-taking, and I scratched out more of another draft today, and I know what I want to say. When will I get an actual draft done? Probably not Monday, and not Wednesday, but maybe Tuesday, or maybe Thursday, or maybe next weekend. But, you know what? I'm better today. I'm happier today. And I believe in what I'm about to write and, if my grades aren't very good (they aren't) or my community involvement is lacking (it is), shit, I'm compelling, and I can make them believe I'm compelling and, if I want to do this, I'm pretty confident I can. And I'm pretty confident I do.

Gurs said I sounded happier tonight than I did when we spoke ever-so-briefly on Saturday evening. He was right.

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There have been several other eventful things, in their own way, over the past week.

Here are some of the highlights:

Car Battery Dying. It had a good life. 72,000 miles, 5 1/2 years, but, on Friday morning, it wasn't to be. So a coworker gave me a jump. And then, on Friday afternoon, it wasn't to be. So another coworker gave me a jump. And then, on Saturday morning, it wasn't to be. This time, AAA gave me a jump, and quite quickly. (Seriously, my wait time was, say, 45 minutes. Less even. It was awesome.) And so I had to get it replaced. It was ninety-something dollars, which sucked, but I really like the owner of the auto shop I go to, so I was happy to pay him. And he charged me for eight minutes of labor, which is pretty funny, and speaks to how car-illiterate I am.

I was listening to "Car Talk" in the car on the way over to the shop. Sadly, the owner is unfamiliar with "Car Talk." I hope you're not unfamiliar with "Car Talk," on NPR. It's truly fantastic, and truly hilarious, even though it's way, way, way over my head. You'd like them, though, if you knew them.

Ice Cream Purchased. I've documented my lack of willpower before. I last documented it in, say, August, when I spoke about eating a jar of peanut butter between my purchase of it on Saturday afternoon and the end of day on Tuesday. (I was really fat for a long time for a reason, after all, with that reason primarily being that the Rud family kept Girl Scout Cookies in the basement freezer. I loved those freakin' cookies.) For this reason, I generally do not buy sweets - they go too quickly, because I'm a freakin' glutton. However, on Saturday night, I really, really wanted something sweet. I didn't really have anything that fits that description, though I almost went and bought an ice cream cone. I chose to stay in. This morning, however, at the grocery store, I chose to purchase ice cream. I've never - never - purchased ice cream, since the start of my "adult" life. But I bought ice cream, the reduced fat kind, and it was on sale. I've devised my method for not gorging myself, however. I've written the date of my next ice cream purchase on the ice cream box itself. As a result, I will not be buying ice cream until Sunday, 12/23, (when I'll be back in the 'burbs, so it'll be Sunday, 12/30, or Saturday, 12/29) and this carton will have to last until then. This gives me disincentive to gorge, you see. I'll be strong.

My policy is, Each Carton of Ice Cream, In Half-Gallon Increments, Lasts Four Weeks.

Gym Membership. For the first time in my life, I also have a gym membership. This is because I broke the treadmill at my apartment complex, kind of. (Well, the belt broke, and it was a crappy, crappy, old treadmill anyway, and the belt was creased, and then I started running, and it got more creased, and then I tried to de-crease it, and it wound up ferociously gashed. But it was a piece of crap anyway.) I purchased this membership last Saturday morning, and I've successfully used it six of the nine days for which I've been a member. I'm quite intimidated by the elliptical, so I've been strictly treadmill-ing it. But, man, I get sweaty. I believe this is a good investment, though I probably would've been better off with the six-month membership. After six months, after all, I'll be able to go back outside. But I signed up for a year, just cause. (It was way cheap. $200.)

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I'd like to write ever-so-briefly about LCD Soundsystem. I shouldn't like LCD Soundsystem. It's dance music. But the guy isn't a DJ, dudes; he's a freakin' songwriter. With lyrics. Intelligent lyrics, or funny lyrics, or poignant lyrics or, yes, sometimes nonsensical lyrics that simply fit the rhythm of the beats.

Anyway, I got LCD Soundsystem's Sound of Silver shortly after it came out, say in February or in May or something of this year. I liked it. Lately, I've been listening to it quite a bit. So, I chose to buy LCD Soundsystem's self-titled record. I got it Tuesday night. It's pretty cool.

I'd like to write about "Losing My Edge," which was apparently LCD Soundsystem's first single. If you're a music geek, and I am (and no other readers here are, sadly), it's just absolutely hilarious.

It's about how he's not hip anymore...
Opening lyric: "I'm losing my edge. I'm losing my edge. The kids are coming up from behind."
...

Later: "I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers / who can tell me every member / of every good group / from 1962 / to 1978."

...

My favorite part:
"I was the first guy playing Daft Punk...to the rock kids. I played it at CBGBs. Everybody thought I was crazy." [I prefer to hear it as, "it was crazy," but everywhere reports its as "I was crazy."]

...

My other favorite part:
"I heard you have a compilation of every good song done by anybody." ... "I heard that you have a white label of every seminal Detroit techno hit / from 1985, '86, and 87."

...

My actual favorite part, which directly precedes him just naming cool hipster bands from forever (including Scott Walker, pere ubu, This Heat, Eric B. and Rakim, and Gil-Scott Heron):

"I heard that everybody that you know / is more relevant than everybody I know."

I love the word "relevant" so much. What an awesome hipster touchstone. My favorite use of the word "relevant" ever comes in I Am Trying to Break Your Heart, the Wilco movie, when Jay Bennett is talking about turning a song into a big rock-and-roll two-guitar attack, and Jeff Tweedy pretentiously says, "I'm not convinced that that's not irrelevant," or something like that. It's so double-negative-y, and so pretentious, and it made me love Jay Bennett and hate Jeff Tweedy, but I can't hate Jeff Tweedy because so many of his songs are so good.

That wasn't that brief. Sorry. LCD Soundsystem is so good, really.

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Oh, I'd like to also briefly write about the Wednesday night dinner club. Basically, me and three others have dinner at a friend's apartment on Wednesday nights. Somebody makes a pork tenderloin. I bring over mashed sweet potatoes with apple and nutmeg. We drink wine. Then we go to dollar pints night. Wednesday nights are so awesome.

This Wednesday will be our third consecutive non-holiday Wednesday, which is a pretty good start.

So that's the Wednesday night dinner club. It's pretty fun. And that was brief.

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Okay, I've got nothing more.