yesterday as i was leaving, i ran across adam, an undergrad working in our lab, who was pouring liquid nitrogen into a dewar. "josh, this is so cool," he said. everyone loves liquid nitrogen; it is universal.

so i told him the best thing to do was fling it across the room as recklessly as you can. he wasn't too sure he could do that, and he asked if i would. so i picked up the dewar and threw the liquid nitrogen across the desk and all the tools and the pump and a computer. it makes a lot of noise and goes up in steam as soon as it hits anything, so then it was gone. he said wow.

everyone loves it, i say.

tonight i am late at work, re-running a set of experiments that look like hell no matter how many times i run them. a smart person would have said fuck it and run them once and been done with it. but no, masochistically i keep doing it.

i went down and got a can of coors a minute ago. i shall sit here and contemplate my next crappy result while i drink it. at the store, in front of me in line, there was a badass looking girl who was buying a big bag of wild berry skittles, a candy bar, and renting when harry met sally. i smile. almost a cliche, she could be--if only she were getting cat food, too. well, i like her. i do stuff like that, although the grocery list and the movie would be a little different. beer and chips, and heathers, i suppose.

or perhaps: a 16 oz. can of beer, for work, all night.

kiss your hands and mean it. you are the world. on the pink foreheads of all the spin doctors, i would like to stamp the free stamp.

you know you're sick of power point, right? of course you are. power point always looks the same. the mere first glimpse of a well-made power point presentation makes me think of bedtime, and i immediately start staring at a clock.

today one of my professors was telling me his opinions on power point. he said, i paraphrase: "if i have to watch one more of these things--it's like a crutch. sure, the thing can be beautiful, and lord knows i've spent my time making the swooshes and the bullet points and all that crap, but sometimes i don't think people actually tell you anything when they're doing that. they just stumble along through it, it's totally canned, and we can do better than that. doing your presentations on power point, i have to say, it's like fucking an unworthy woman."

as i promised myself, last night i went for a quick beer at 1020 before heading home. no book to read, no lingering--i went in, drank it, and left. tim the barman had his red sox getup on, so we talked a little about that, even though i wouldn't know the red sox from a sack of squirrels.

this girl was sitting next to me, and it seemed as though she was going to talk to me. finally she leaned over and:

her: excuse me. do you come to 1020 a lot?

me: (laughs) yes, probably. maybe too much. sure.

her: i'm writing my thesis on 1020.

me: (uncharacteristic amount of laughter) that's great. right on, why didn't i think of that?

at this point i think she has devised the perfect line to pick someone up. of course, it's useless to try and pick me up, but i recognize genius when i hear it. but then she goes on:

her: i want to interview you. can i do that?

me: what is your thesis in?

her: sociology.

me: you mean it's not electrical engineering?

her: i want to study interactions, and why people come to 1020. i'm going to interview regulars. i haven't come up with my questions yet.

(pause)

me: um, so should i give you my email?

her: yes. i'll put it in my cell phone.

so i gave her my email address, and i realized that she was actually kind of nervous and awkward in the whole 1020 setting. i told her i guess i'd see her later. i did notice that she got up and walked around for a long time, perhaps talking to more regulars.

was she messing with me, or was it all the truth? i still can't tell.

i beg your pardon--geeky and indulgent:

the boss finally decided to get each of us our own computer, mainly because he's worried no one will want to work for him if he doesn't. hey, whatever.

so my new computer arrived today, and i am currently massaging it into line. this should not excite me so. windows media player tells me i have five whole songs in my library:

twilight and between the bars by elliot smith
my kind of soldier by guided by voices
kissing the lipless by the shins
and star sign by teenage fanclub.

the total playing time is sixteen minutes and forty seconds. seventeen megs.

there are times when a clear sky is beautiful. simple colors and simple patterns remind one that so much complexity lies ahead. life is here for us to drink, and we have not yet tasted a thing. i'm off to play songs, find more, play more, do nothing, so wonderful, so so wonderful. . .