01.24.03 - 5:42 p.m.

Last night was the second night in a row that Ozzy Osbourne appeared in my dream. The first time, I dreamt I was actually a member of the Osbourne family, chasing cats around and behaving badly. That dream I think was inspired by Dan's constant twitching in bed next to me. Last night, Ozzy didn't figure as prominently. He was involved somehow with the promos for National Security (I don't invent this stuff, I just dream it, ok?) but that was the extent of it.

Ozzy? Are you my real dad? Is this a sign?

Tomorrow I'm finally going to see The Dinner Party at the Brooklyn Museum of Art. Hooray! I've been waiting for this ever since I learned about it in Margo Hobbs' art class. I've not yet been to the Brooklyn Museum either. And perhaps I will buy a new pair of trainers at the Diesel sample sale, since my current pair is literally coming apart at the seams. Oh, and maybe get tickets for the Tori/Howie show in March?

And tonight I'm making homemade Hot Pockets for our Super Bowl party. One time, at band camp, we stole this plastic snowman from our friends' house (the kind that tacky people like to stick on their lawns for Christmas) and we left a ransom note demanding one million dollars and a Hot Pocket. We also dressed the snowman and took him to fraternity formals with us before he was returned. Oh, the stories he could tell.

The hot pockets should be rather tasty, at any rate.