The thing is... I'm a fan of a musician named Martin Sexton (who KICKS ASS, by the way). One day I was browsing around his website and I decided to become a member of his street team (aka: people who get other people to like him, play him, and buy his cds). However, the arrival of the street team goodie bag (which was filled with a lotta loot to give to prospective Martin lovers) was right around the time that my thesis was due (I know... cry me a river). Needless to say, the entire goodie bag and its contents are still sitting on the floor of my bedroom, untouched (except I took out my complimentary cd and t-shirt).

I am riddled with guilt. Do you hear me, Martin? RIDDLED, I TELL YOU!

So, in a lame attempt to placate my conscience (and to sorta/kinda/a little bit) complete my original mission, please, please for the love of ME, go and check out Martin Sexton.

(And please like him and buy one of his cds.)

Now that THAT'S out of the way...

I gave myself a manicure tonight. And I made curry. It was a good night, except for the guilt part.