6:25 AM:

Friday Five:

1. What was the last song you heard?
   "Smelly Cat," by Phoebe, from Friends. For some reason, I felt the urge to seek out and listen to it.
2. What were the last two movies you saw?
   On TV: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and West Side Story. Both were part of Turner Classic Movies' "31 Days of Oscar" programming. I didn't like either as much as the third-to-last film I saw there, The Music Man. (As an aside, I'm not sure it's possible to watch West Side Story without thinking of the Gap. I see this as mostly a good thing; it's nice to have something pleasant to think about when watching this film, which is otherwise too violent and depressing for my taste.)
   

   In theatres: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, and Fast Times at Ridgemont High.The former was, I thought, an improvement on the first film in the series. The very ending was uneccesarily contrived, and I could have done without the slugs and Ron (both were in the book, however), but that's about the extent of my complaints. The car and the Quidditch match were both much cooler than I'd expected them to be.
   

   The closing credits of the latter sent me straight to Half.Com, where I picked up an Oingo Boingo compilation CD.

3. What were the last three things you purchased?
   A bottle of Diet Pepsi, a can of Pringles, and a half gallon of milk (1/2% fat).
4. What four things do you need to do this weekend?
   Sleep, clean my apartment, update my journal, and serve as a dental student's blue book.
5. Who are the last five people you talked to?
   In person? Let's see... The student at the dental clinic who's giving me a couple fillings as part of his exam on Sunday; the clerk at the store at which I bought the soda, milk, and potato chips; and three grad students in the English Department at the U of M.

5:06 AM:

About a month after the fact, and drawing heavily on chat transcripts from when this was fresh in my mind... here's the full version of My Night at the Strip Club, occupying two entries in the older journal format. Rated R for strong sexual content, and you might not really want to know all the details. You've been warned.

10:01 PM:

I miss pizza delivery.

Pizza delivery is capitalism at its very finest. You call a phone number, and within a half hour, a person appears at your door bearing a nice hot pizza. You hand over some money, and everybody is happy.

This observation -- which I vaguely think I've seen elsewhere, but can't place -- has been sparked by Food Network, which is running a marathon of shows about pizza this evening. It's making me very hungry, and also a bit sad. I looked over the menu on the Web site of my favorite Queens pizza shop (which now has another branch in Cedarhurst-- how did I not know about this when I was in New York?) and actually came close to tears.

In the meantime, I've got pizza delivery circulars coming out the yin-yang over here; every week, at least one arrives in the mail, offering low prices, additional coupons, and promises of swift delivery. None of them for kosher shops, of course.

I've managed to resist temptation so far, but while it was completely out of the bounds of consideration when I moved here, it's become more of an active struggle lately.

On the other hand, I think I finally understand a phenomenon that had previously mystified me: people who eat non-kosher food outside the home, while still keeping kosher inside. There's actually some sense to it; if you want the occasional forbidden delight without actually making all your equipment permanently non-kosher, it's the only way to go about it. Or to put it another way, just because you go off the wagon sometimes doesn't mean you want to be off it all the time. Again, this is not something I've tried in practice, but just considering the practical ramifications -- particularly when passing the frozen pizza section at the supermarket -- has given me a bit more insight into the whole thing than I'd had before. I guess that's something.