Last post of the month, I'd say, with 99 percent certainty. We'll make it a good one, quick hit(ish)-style:

I was supposed to have a good, restful night tonight - catch up on outstanding phone calls, eat a quick dinner, basically relax. Well, I got a great mid-winter outdoor run in post-work, finishing by 6:30, and had started chopping vegetables for dinner by the time Jeopardy! started, at 7:30. But I've got a difficult oven that blows fuses, like, always, and I had to simmer my pasta sauce for a time and, well, by the time I was done eating, it was, say 9:30. And, though I had done some laundry, I certainly hadn't done the planned iPod maintenance or Mix-CD-from-Friend importing or Mix CD (two planned) creation. I hadn't gotten anything done and, while it's only a small form of frustrating, it is a bit frustrating. Martinis Tuesday, Pints Wednesday, after all.

I've met a wonderful, wonderful friend up here in the last few weeks. We kind of ran parallel circles, and she had become friends with a former coworker of mine, and, poof, a new great person to hang out with. She's a drunk (good, but bad), and married (worse for me, fine for her), so that's too bad. But she can also meet me geek-for-geek in music talk, which is nice. Because, say conversation's lacking, I can be all, "So, here's the Portland band I'm really excited about: The Thermals," and she, as a former Portlander, can have an opinion of them. ("They totally got naked at their Sub Pop record release show - they're too big for their britches.) And then she can tell me about watching Death Cab in basements in Bellingham, which is cool, and she can turn me on to Pinback and, for what it's worth, Stellastar*. She also loves Superdrag, quite a bit, so it's really fun to sing along to Head Trip in Every Key with her. But, alas, married. Mix CD #1 would be for her, because she doesn't know The Hold Steady or Jesus & Mary Chain or The Fiery Furnaces' Blueberry Boat or, to be honest, Pavement or GbV or Belle & Sebastian.

The other Mix CD is for aforementioned former coworker, who wrote, "I love The New Pornographers and Neko Case and, oh God, can you make me a CD!?" I haven't, but I can, but it's nice to roll with geeks, when it comes down to it. Because without the geek factor, I would've never gotten a CD with XTC's "Senses Working Overtime," for instance.

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My plan for self-destruction has gone swimmingly well.

Last week, I documented my "out as much as possible" strategy. I maintained this week as, after taking Monday off, I did:
Tuesday - Going-away party for a coworker, until after 3.
Wednesday - Supper Club (now officially PLOW, standing for Pork Loin On Wednesday, which is simple but accurate) + Pints
Thursday - Post-work Beer, which doesn't count for much, but lasted two hours
Friday - Out of work shortly after three. At the bar from 3:30 until 9.
Saturday - Classic Ring Fingernail gigantic hamburger, followed by a trip to the Ring Fingernail Hooters (featuring a pregnant teenaged waitress!), followed by a visit to a new microbrewery place.
Sunday - To the bar, to watch the Cats get trounced by the Illini

This is a stretch of six straight "out"-ish nights, and 12 in the last 17 days. After taking tonight (Monday) off, it'll be out Tuesday and Wednesday, bringing it to 14 of 20. No word on official Thursday plans, though Friday should certainly bring some post-work activities, I'd think.

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I hosted my first PLOW on Wednesday. Four came. We drank 18 beers, and overcooked our loin. I did roast red and orange and yellow peppers, which were fantastic. We at our salad out of football bowls, which was exciting. Someone brought a fantastic (roughly) seven-layer dip. And we didn't turn on the TV, which is always a goal.

And, though the night devolved into "How many bottles can we stack?" and our littlest guest got slightly injured when she was knocked to the floor, brushing her elbow against the coffee table, a good time was generally had by all.

With a cast of four consistent participants, three more semi-regulars, and at least three more semi-inviteds, this is becoming a fantastic weekly activity. I'm back to mashed sweet potatoes this week, it would seem. I've also got two frozen two-pound legs of lamb sitting in my freezer (I mean, I love 'em, Mom, but how can one guy use two pounds of lamb?), which have great PLOW potential. It'll simply be LOW on those nights, perhaps, or LLOW.

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I got a camera for Christmas. Cameras are fun.

Resolution #1: Take more pictures. Pictures are good.
Resulution #1a: Take pictures before everyone devolves into drunkenness. I'm not always sweaty and confused-looking, though images would indicate that I am. After all, "It's for the wake." (While that joke is flat-out hilarious - "Smile - It's for the wake" - you'd be surprised how many people just. don't. laugh. Sad, really.)

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Resolution #2: Limit my purchases of music by bands that I already know. Limit these purchases to bands that I love love love. This means, for instance, that I've resisted purchasing the new Magnetic Fields record, despite strong reviews. Instead, I'm excited about Times New Viking. This means that I probably won't buy the new Breeders album, and that I resisted Hello, Blue Roses, even though Destroyer/New Pornographers' Dan Bejar had a large part (but a non-singing part, I think). This means that I will buy the new Mountain Goats record, which is only three weeks away, and has an awesome video already out. (And let's be honest here, it's not that it's such a great video - though it is cool and is worth your time - it's just that John Darnielle is so darn good.)

This means that I won't buy the next New Pornographers record, or the next record by The Walkmen, or the next record by The Fiery Furnaces, or maybe even The Strokes. Let the reviews blow me away, or let my friends get really excited first. (Among those still on the will-buy list are Spoon, White Stripes, Arcade Fire, probably The Futureheads, Mountain Goats, Hold Steady, Modest Mouse, probably The National, so still a very significant list.)

There's this thing called Vampire Weekend, and Pitchfork gives them Strokes and B&S comparisons for their "make it look easy"-ness and the fact that they'll win over people that want to hate them. This is appealing. So is Blood On The Wall - I bought their last record for my older brother for Christmas a few years ago, but I don't think he got much out of it. It was, awesomely, called Awesomer, however.

Other music-related: R.E.M. is touring. I've never seen R.E.M. They've only become one of my favorite bands, really, within the past year or so. I love R.E.M., quite a bit. They're touring with Modest Mouse and The National. The closest they'll come to The Ring Fingernail is United Center, on Friday, June 6. I believe that I'll be making my way to United Center on Friday, June 6.

Modest Mouse and The National are among, say, my top ten favorite current bands. R.E.M. isn't current per se, but they sure have lots and lots and lots of great songs. God, to hear "I Am Superman" or "Rockville" or "Losing My Religion" or "Sidewinder" or "Pop Song 89" or "South Central Rain" or any of those live, really. Gosh, I just think that'd be amazing, so I'm committing myself to it.

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Too drunk to drive home on Friday night, I joined others in a viewing of Sweeney Todd. It was so good. Bleak and gray and dark and then - poof - beautiful, beautiful stylized blood. I'm not a musical guy, unless the musicals are minor key and killy. If you like minor key and killy, go see Sweeney Todd. I don't see much in the way of movies in the theater, but this one seems certainly worth seeing on the big screen. (And, to be honest, everything is better on the big screen, isn't it?)

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I love the State of the Union address. The President could announce plans to initiate free trade with Martians, and the entire place would give a standing ovation (or, at least, one side of the aisle.) I think it's neat.

I was struck, however, by seemingly hypocritical statements/arguments.

On the one hand, President Bush talked emphatically about the success of No Child Left Behind which, of course, any educator will tell you is a sham that forces too much testing and not enough learning. So, in one breath, he touts record-high math scores and rapidly-improving English scores and then, moments later, he's talking about the need to allow more underprivileged children access to magnet schools and charter schools and parochial schools.

One or the other, George. Privatize education - privatize everything - or make the public system work. If the public system were so good, after all, why would we need the faith-based or charter schools? Seems hypocritical is all.

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For a three-month period, I was highly-informed about my slant on politics. What this means: I read all the election coverage on Slate and Salon. For the last two weeks, as things have gotten more interesting (Racism! Kennedys! Romney wins something! Huckabee's disappeared! Rudy! More Bill! Too Much Bill! Obama Jokes About Clinton's Dancing Ability And How It Indicates His Blackness! Edwards Wasted This Four-Year Cycle! Officially! And Thompson Wasted His Four Months!), I've gotten less knowledgeable.

How?

Because I'm done with essays. I don't have to stall anymore, you see.

Okay, I didn't really edit this, so I hope it makes sense. Have a nice night.

I wish The Boy had free time. Sigh.

Hey, so, it's been a long time. Three weeks almost. I have used the three weeks very, very well, for the record.

Rough summary of what has happened on a week by week basis, starting with the semi-week.

Wednesday, January 2 - Friday, January 4: Stalling, probably. Watched West Virginia's coach say "West Gosh Darn Virginia!"

Saturday, January 5 - Friday, January 11: Application-ing. The whole time.

Well, the whole time, until,
Friday, January 11 (10:30 p.m.) - Sunday, January 20: Drinking. Drinking to excess, largely.

Here's the deal:
I bought that GMAT Prep Book, not making the decision official, but making the decision imminent, on Labor Day, Monday, September 3. From Monday, September 3, until Friday, January 11, when I turned in my last application, the whole specter of the thing was. always. hanging. over. me. Always. The whole time. No matter what I was doing, or where I was doing it, or with whom I was doing it, there was always some pang of guilt. Should I be studying? Should I be writing? Should I be "life-mining?" Always, always, the answer was that I could be writing, or studying, or "life-mining," but, unless I was physically typing, or physically scribbling in my workbook or, perhaps, reading old RHH entries, I was doing none of the above. And, you see, that sucked.

So, is drinking to excess an admirable solution? Probably not. But the last ten days have marked about the most fun I've ever had in my life, at least over a period this extended, at least since finishing school. And I've been safe and smart and twice I've shared floor- or bedspace with two other men. This is amazing.

I've committed - strongly - to only enjoying myself for the next two weeks. Now, this is generally my goal in life but, well, "things" sometimes get in the way of enjoyment. But not this week.

So, let's go day-by-day of the greatest 10-day period of my life:

Friday, 1/11: Post-application celebratory beers. Former coworker who I've not seen since pre-Christmas is around for the fun. Bedtime: Roughly 3:30.

Saturday, 1/12: Company party. I get an iPod out of it. Event devolves into a hotel room toga party. Our Director of Marketing, clad in toga, adds to the fun by taking a painting from the hallway and bringing it into our room. I share a bed with two men, the gay one in the middle. As far as I can tell, nothing happens. I take lots of pictures. Bedtime: Roughly 4:15.

Sunday, 1/13: Recovery. Only recovery. Great conversation with my sister, though. And maybe the greatest dinner I've ever made. Rare, wonderful, thick steak. Roasted red peppers. Sour cream & chive loaded baked potato. Sam Adams Cherry Wheat.

Monday, 1/14: To be honest, I can't recall. I don't think I even called any friends. I don't know what I did. I guess, mostly, failed in posting my pictures. Also, I tidied up the place some.

Tuesday, 1/15: Marbles. Martinis. Making sure a friend didn't die. Bedtime: 3:15.

Wednesday, 1/16: Wednesday Night Supper Club. Record turnout, including four newcomers, only one uninvited. The uninvited one is the one who also sucked. WNSC member starts a CD of the Week tradition, and distributes a mix CD including, among other things, Brother freakin' Ali. (I'm albino man - I know I'm pink and pale / and I'm hairy as hell, everywhere but fingernails.) Then, dollar pints. Two people say, "You should totally write a blog." I just giggle. Bedtime: 1 a.m., which is what it usually is when sober.

Thursday, 1/17: Great conversations. Gurs (20 minutes), Haaaarper (90 minutes), Tina (90 minutes).

Friday, 1/18: Immediate post-work bar time. 4:15 until, say 8. Ostensibly a toga party reunion, but a few more added. Then a walk to a coworker's house. Several more beers. I fall asleep before I can make it to the bar, though most others make it... I'm okay with that. Wake up on the floor next to the same two men. Gay one in the middle. He wakes up with the, "Holy Shit, again?" face. Bedtime: Probably 11.

Saturday, 1/19: Morning-after semi-drunk Mexican omelet. Nothing else spectacular. Bills. Groceries. Gym. Loading the iPod. Adding cover art. Bulls win on TV. Catching up on two episodes of Friday Night Lights. Bedtime: 2.

Sunday, 1/20: Near perfect. Up in time for Meet the Press, though it was an all-roundtable episode. Get to the gym as it opens. Begin making this week's chili, but Nemo calls. 90 awesome minutes with Nemo. Breakfast: Black beans, wheat toast, shredded breakfast potatoes, and eggs sunny side up, Holy Jesus. Wow. Eggs sunny side up are really good. To the library for a few New Yorkers and a few Nick Hornby books. Best three-hour cleaning session since 2004, I think, including the maiden usage of my Dirt Devil, and the first-ever dusting of my spiderweb-riddled ceiling fan. Dinner with a friend. I order an Old Style, which is on tap. Yowzers.

So, it's been, well, awesome. Beyond awesome. Inexplicably awesome.

I'm going out Tuesday and Wednesday this week. Martinis and pints, after all. There's talk of taking a winery bus tour on Saturday, though it's highly possible that that was just the beer talking.

I've got two weeks left of planned self-destructive behavior. Then, start thinking about school again, potentially. But knowing that I have, essentially, no freakin' control over my applications this point is, well, great.

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I don't know. Maybe there's nothing else to write about right now.

I finished my essays for Kellogg in late November, let's say. Or early December. I did them first is the point, even though those were the last ones due. I stopped thinking about them. I sent them to my dad, who was generally complimentary.

After that, I worked on Michigan and Chicago's. I finished most of Michigan's in mid-December, all pre-Christmas. I got Michigan's in a few days early, on January 1 or January 2.

On January 1, I also emailed a coworker, to see if she would be willing to read through my Kellogg essays. She was stranded in a blizzard somewhere, and agreed to.

Meantime, I worked and worked and worked through Chicago's, which were tough for me. They were due on Wednesday 1/9, and I uploaded them at about 8 p.m. Other things distracted me from getting work done on Kellogg's, due 1/11.

On about 1/5, my coworker sent back comments on my essays. She was, say, not-complimentary. Ruthless. "Inauthentic," and "sounds like you're writing what you think they want you to write," and, at least at one point, "Ugh."

Then I got to Kellogg's, Thursday, 1/10. She was absolutely right. They were terrible, as they were the first ones I'd done. The ones I'd done before I had an actual comfort writing about myself and writing about business school and whatever. So I rewrote them, almost completely, four out of the five. I think I made them better.

In tribute to Neutral Milk Hotel, I ended my final essay by writing, "I spend my life counting beautiful things," which should be enough for them to reject me on the spot, I'd think.

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Other rock music references:

I bought Pinback's Summer in Abaddon, which is kind of good.
I received, via eBay, Jesus and Mary Chain's Darklands and Honey's Dead. I really, really like JAMC.

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Wow. This is my 600th post. Wow.

Happy New Year!

(I remember Flax writing "Happy New Year" at, like, 12:04 on January 1. That was the coolest thing anyone has ever done. I only mention Flax specifically as a way to draw comments, by the way.)

I just thought I'd write here, because I like writing here.

Here's my news:
I finished one application. I completed it, submitted it, and paid the application fee. As of 10:36 p.m., I am a business school applicant. To be honest, I don't think this possibility would have even been on my radar one year ago. (The only "where was I a year ago and what do I wish to accomplish this year?" reference you'll get in this ponderous post, I promise.)

I have two more to finish. One is due a week from Wednesday, and the other a week from Friday. Chicago is due Wednesday. There's lots to do on that one. NU is due Friday. I've written my essays, so there's less to do on that one. Chicago requires longer essays, which I've found are more difficult. With Michigan, you make your point, give an example, use too many commas and contractions, and finish with something witty or encapsulating. Or, at least, I do.

Chicago also requires an open-ended PowerPoint submission. I've worked in PowerPoint once. (And, mostly, I think my group partners did the work. I was the primary speaker for the presentation, as I recall.) As such, I'm putting this off as long as I can. I've probably put it off as long as I can, actually.

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I'm really, really, really excited for January 11. In fact, I'll probably submit my application on Thursday, January 10, so I'm really, really, really excited for January 11.

I think I've become pretty boring, say, over the last two months. Maybe the last four months. (I bought my GMAT book and started blowing off friends on Labor Day.)

I'm really looking forward to returning four-months-old phone messages, starting Tuesday, January 15.

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On Saturday, I met a friend of a friend of a friend who has been accepted to Kellogg and might not go. I told her she was crazy. In retrospect, I should have told her to decline the offer as soon as possible - it only increases my chances, right? But she seemed nice enough, so maybe she'd be a good classmate.

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I vaguely recall writing in, say, June, about how I had people to drink with, but not great friends, up here. And this is natural, probably, but is also changing. I had a pretty good time at the New Year's thing I went to last night, which is nice. Good people, and, perhaps, nobody who I had met by this time last year. (Oops, there it goes again.) In fact, only one coworker, and that's because I brought him along. This is nice.

Also, I got shot by a marshmallow, fired out of some makeshift, bike pump-powered cannon. (Cool people, too, you see.) I was outside, obviously, and had taken my shirt off, stupidly. (I was one of three to do the whole "no-shirt" thing.) To be honest, I was hardly drunk by that point (though, as I consider it, I was probably five drinks deep, so I guess I probably was - lots of liquor last night, it seems).

I learned as an 11-year-old soccer player forming a wall in front of a free kick that "you must protect your wee-wee." I was served very, very well by this advice while standing in the line of fire, as the small welt on the back of my right hand can attest.

Also, I'm never running for political office, clearly.

Also, I spoke with my parents at about 11:30 today - I wanted to make sure my dad was watching the complete bust of a Cotton Bowl. Somehow, my New Year's party story stopped at, "It was a good time."

Despite my apparent debauchery, I was up by 10 this morning, and had put in a three-mile, well-paced run by 11:30. And I finished that freakin' application. So it was a pretty good 24-hour stretch, really.

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I do wonder when WhatGoddamnYearIsIt.com is going to get updated. This is important. Get on it, Dude Tangentially Associated With Nemo.

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For the record, even when I have no rooting interest, I can really get lost in a day of college football. (Though, when it's a blowout, as Hawaii-Georgia was when I turned it off, it's more difficult.) But, man, I kind of...just...sat for much of the day. I really was happy to see Lloyd Carr end with such a nice upset, and I felt no pangs watching Illinois get smoked. I do wish Wisconsin beat Tennessee - I think they run as close to a "clean" athletic program as any school in the Big Ten, though probably not. After all, their players signed footballs for free shoes.

Florida-Michigan was obviously the most enjoyable game. I saw the closing moments of Texas Tech-Virginia, which was pretty good. Wisconsin-Tennessee got tense late. In fact, Michigan-Florida was the only good game, actually, but I was pretty content to watch large young men run into each other all day anyway. Hmm.

I'm pretty sure I'm not interested in the game that Kansas is playing in. That one's Thursday. I can't think who West Virginia is playing. That's Wednesday. I'll watch it after the Cats are done with Penn State - yeah, Big Ten hoops on ESPN2!

(This year, the "cut your losses" ESPN airing of NU conference play comes in the conference season opener, in the same time slot as a BCS bowl game. That's probably their most effective "cut your losses" mandatory airing of NU hoops ever. Last year, they stupidly aired NU against Illinois, hoping that NU would be good enough to compete. Stupid, stupid ESPN. They should only ever schedule NU-Penn State, and the conference opener against a BCS bowl game is a pretty good time to do it.)

(Kevin Coble's back. It's at home. I'm stupidly optimistic that the only Northwestern hoops game I can watch at home all season long will be a win. Stupid, stupid me.)

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I'm morally obligated to write about Christmas. Between Saturday morning, December 22, when I ran four miles in the winter chill, and Saturday, December 29, when I was three days back in The Ring Fingernail, I had put on ten pounds. That's how awesome my Christmas was.

Good things about Christmas:
- I did not eat a single meal without the company of a family member or friend. This includes lunch with Didi and two separate lunches with high school folks.

- Jenny called midday Saturday, and we made it happen Saturday night. Gosh, I'm so happy she called. That girl's movin' on up, people.

- I mentioned to my mom that I had after-dinner plans to see Jenny on Saturday. My mom said, "Which one's Jenny?" I said, "She's my white female friend from college." My mom said, "Is she the one who lives in San Francisco now?" I said, "Nope." She said, "Oh, she must be the one with the brother then." I said, "Yup." The internet is a-ma-zing.

- My brother's dog ran away, but then came back.

- I'm 27, and I still get lots and lots of gifts for Christmas. This is stupid, but also results in a digital camera, Dirt Devil, and that awesome baby blue bootleg Cubs t-shirt that replaces the stars in the Chicago flag with the Cubs "bear head" logo. The camera takes in-focus pictures. The Cubs t-shirt got a strong response. And I probably won't be able to confirm whether the Dirt Devil works for a few weeks.

- The online vendor that I used will replace my brother's broken shot glass, no questions asked. Folks, if you want to buy shot glasses online, just tell the online vendor that you purchase them from that one or two were broken during shipping. You'll get them replaced, no questions asked. Also, shot glasses are probably a pretty crappy gift. As are skateboarding books and books about the 1908 baseball season. Coffee and beer are good gifts.

- Thanks to my older brother, I have the necessary supplies to host a Super Bowl party in which I serve chili.

- Thanks to my younger brother, I have an oven mitt that can confirm that The Ring Fingernail is, in fact, The Ring Fingernail. God, that's amazing.

- The Glenview House is kickin'.

Bad things about Christmas:

- It's never long enough. I'm such a sap.

- My sister wasn't there. If I didn't suck so much, we could have bumped Christmas back three weeks, probably.

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My sister gets back to the CHI on Friday. I think that's great for her. I'm hoping that I'll see her within a month of her return.

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In an effort to stall on Sunday afternoon, I went to Borders and bought The National's Boxer. It's one of the most acclaimed releases of the year, I think, and I liked the two CDs that I had gotten of theirs from the library and, crap, I had only bought two CDs in the last two-plus months.

Jeez, it's great.

When I update my Best of 2007 list next December, I'm pretty confident that The National and Lupe Fiasco will both appear in the top ten. Maybe the top half of the top ten.

Seriously, The National's "Mistaken for Strangers" and "Slow Show" (You know I dreamed about you / for 29 years before I met you) are pretty amazing. And Lupe's "Hip Hop Saved My Life" and "Paris, Tokyo" are really, truly fantastic.

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I've probably covered all I can cover here. Happy New Year. Back in two weeks, or maybe Sunday, but nothing will have happened worth reporting by Sunday. But maybe on Sunday.