In New York now, drunk, barhopping, listening to Carmen in Matt's shoebox of a New York apartment. They tell me this is what I work all year to afford--a lousy weekend in New York for the sole pleasure of listening to operas, going to Broadway plays and drinking in overcrowded, trendy, yuppified bars. Oh man, am I on vacation or what?

Almost didn't make it--almost missed the flight. I have two things to thank for making my flight on time--one is a lack of traffic on 290; the other is dumb luck.

Three vodka tonics; half a bottle of Merlot; one Bud Light and a glass of French wine. Not a bad resume for the first Friday night of my summer break.