On Tuesday I was fortunate enough to be invited to the dress rehearsal of Samuel Barber's Vanessa at the LA Opera. It was a good production, but the opera itself wasn't very enjoyable. There is more melody on the latest Fear Factory album. I do not exaggerate.

The numbers in my Latin class dwindled as the week wore on. Little buggers running home for the holidays. This actually made getting observed by a professor on Tuesday somewhat easier, as those who chose to attend were suitably attentive and engaging. By Wednesday I was down to 5. So they get extra credit. Then I went home, to begin the mental preparations for Wednesday Night Drinking Club (a pleasing aberration).

I enjoyed a pleasant Thanksgiving Chez Schiler (that's at Karen's parents' house), which was wonderfully laid-back and issue-free, although I encountered a new kind of dementia which it seems only jigsaw puzzles can elicit from otherwise well-balanced human beings. Then I went home, to begin the mental preparations for Thursday Night Drinking Club (a pleasing habit).

Phil and I braved Best Buy ("Best Buy!") today, and I (finally) picked up a microwave in the ensuing melee. At last, the power of the atom has been harnessed in my own home for the purpose of providing popcorn with greater alacrity! And reheating and defrosting stuff. The only drawback is the microwave turned out to be quite huge (how big are these harnessed atoms?), and is presently dominating my kitchen. The George Foreman Grill is sobbing quietly in its corner, and I believe even the fridge is eyeing it nervously.