10.29.03 - 3:03 p.m.

I never thought I'd say this, but thank you, Lorelai, for putting Rory in her place last night. "I can't study! I need my tree!" Boo fucking hoo, Miss Prissy. Go to the library and find a poorly-lit carrel like the rest of us.

I actually have very fond memories of cruising the library, looking for the perfect study space. Lower level 1, by the glass-walled room with the round chairs? Upper level 1, next to the windows looking over the backyard of DU? Lower level 2, by the beanbags? Or maybe the couches in the main level foyer, perfect for light reading and a little stalking on the side?

Last night I dreamed about Scott Foley, and not in a good way. It was a full-on horror movie, complete with Scott turning into a zombie man with his face rotting off chasing me through backyards and over an above-ground swimming pool. Why, Scott, why? Was Scream 3 not enough torture? I have nothing but love for you, I swear. And I'm planning on going to see The Violet Hour really soon, I promise.

The night before, I dreamed about packing a suitcase. Literally just walking around a hotel room, gathering up clothes and books and stuffing them into a huge suitcase. The room was somewhat dark, it being one of those dreams where you can't always see everything clearly so you always feel like you're straining to accomplish your task, slowly becoming more and more unnerved.

Oh, and is Ivanka Trump currently a brunette? Because she seemed more articulate as one (in that godforsaken Born Rich documentary-slash-train wreck), but I can't figure out if it's a result of the hair color or some finishing school that she completed that taught her to take the word "like" out of her vocabulary.

OK. I just checked WireImage and she's been blonde pretty much all of 2003. So apparently she became dumber as the documentary progressed. Interesting.