So Shel and I are bummed, because we bought tickets to go see Rufus Wainwright at the Ravinia Festival in Chicago for this Friday, and we can't make it up there for the show. Or, rather, we could make it there, but we're dog tired from the past two weeks. Last week was a beeyatch, and this week is nearly as bad. I think I'm simultaneously training and/or supporting four different groups of faculty right now. I don't think either of us has been to bed before 2 in the past week.

Shel is killing herself to get the Paste edits done for the next issue, which goes to the printer this Friday. On top of that she's got to write a couple of book reviews herself. I'm responsible for two articles in that issue: one on Hong Kong cinema and Kill Bill, and a combined review of two books on skateboarding. In other words, adolescent Randall is in full effect.