I've been ridiculously sick for the past couple days. It's not very much fun, at least not to me. Been hacking up a lung or something, and my nose drips like a goddamn waterfall on steroids. This pisses me off. I'm not supposed to get sick; I hardly ever do it. I've been partying like the trooper I am, of course, in between doing ridiculously elaborate stat problem sets. I'm just crazy like that. Woohoo! U of C! Homework party!

I've been trying to get people over to my place for dinner, but everyone seems to bail at the last minute. What, is everyone really so busy that they can't come over and have someone cook for them? I mean, what the fuck? If I don't have more guests soon, I'm going to start feeling hurt and rejected or something. Or I'll just cook something and forget about it. Speaking of eating, my once six-pack has totally turned into a two-pack. I'm now 2-pac Tan. Where my hos at, bitch? Shit, I have to get in shape. Fuck.

Mos Def and Talib were awesome on Sunday. The Cubs beat the Marlins 12-3, and I think I'm jumping on the bandwagon for this season. Somewhere out there, men are playing professional sport, and Arsenal is taking a break for Euro qualifiers anyway, so I figure, well, whatever. Sosa's home run in the first game of the series was pretty sweet, but the Cubs lost 9-8 anyway. I think that's when I finally decided I'd support them. I mean, why the hell not? Granted, I was pretty inebriated while watching the first game, but hey, what other way is there to watch baseball?

And now I'm bored again. Someone leave some love already; the apartment is way too quiet sometimes.