I completely forgot to write in here yesterday. hmm.

it's been rainy and grey in Chicago for the past couple of days and I'm really enjoying it for some odd reason. when I came out of my apartment this morning and after I stepped off the bus to go to work, I was reminded of the summer I spent in Paris. there's a line in a Woody Allen movie about how grey in Paris is different from any other grey anywhere else in the world, how it's not at all depressing, or something to that effect. (I think it's in Everyone Says I Love You.) at any rate, that's the feeling I got this morning. it was nice.

yesterday April and I went to a record shop in our old neighborhood and if I hadn't exercised great restraint, I would've bought up the whole place. as it was, I ended up with a record of the film soundtrack from Bye Bye Birdie, a record of French Can-Can Music, and a record of Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner's 2000 Year Old Man comedy routine from 1960. record shops are the best. this one is especially great because it's completely free of pretension. it was also really empty, which made for easy browsing. but I hope that doesn't mean they could go out of business anytime soon.

I feel like there's something I'm supposed to do tonight that I'm completely forgetting about. that's a frustrating feeling.

Thursday is the day I go to the doctor for the procedure to find out once and for all if anything is seriously wrong with my reproductive organs. I'm half-looking forward to it, half-dreading the fact that the procedure involves an acid wash and that I was told to take Advil a half hour before the appointment. I am a baby.

Monday, Monday. I hope you go by quickly.