I was going to go into panic mode and make this whole blog private, since I don't know how to make individual entries private, because I wasn't sure whether my Apples in Stereo review would appear in the Phoenix, and of course I just had to include "courtesy of reminced.blogspot.com" at the bottom of the article. But I just got an article from Ms. HappyWasabi, saying that although she thought the piece was "absolutely great," she didn't get it in time. I got it in about twenty minutes past deadline, due to computer screwiness. Oh well, she'll run it next week. And I'm safe from the eyes of the world for at least a little while. What was the moral of "Harriet the Spy"? Can someone remind me, I forgot. If the point of the book is that you shouldn't write negative things about others, I don't agree. If the point is just that you shouldn't get caught, that's more like it.

Last night I went to the lesson run by the "Salsa group," which turned out to be one fellow walking us mechanically through a sexless "1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7" basic for literally ten or fifteen minutes, breaking it down, and then attempting it with music, which had no affect on his lack of consistent tempo. I couldn't take it any more so I went to Kirby for film society. The "meeting" beforehand consisted of tossing around some ideas for films (Christine wants to see Wong Kar-Wai's eight-hour epic, I suggested Sturges, Ichikawa and "Don't Look Back.") The movie we watched was this bizarre British thing called "How to Get Ahead in Advertising," with the wanker from "L.A. Story." It started out as a typical workplace comedy, and then quickly got extremely surreal and message-driven. It was pretty awful, actually, although it had that late-eighties charm. Christine called it preachy, and Gabe thought there were at least a few good lines.

From there to Paces, which I had forgetten is now a dance club Wednesdays: "The Hump." There weren't many people there, but Blair beckoned me over, and we discussed the breakthrough in her social schedule that I had apparently harbinged, and then joined Jocelyn, Laura Clark, and Hilarie on the platform set up for a dance floor. Madonna, Outkast, and then (my picks) Mos Def and Ozomatli. Hilarie actually made me pay for a dirty sundae (well, I had forgotten to pay the other night, so I guess that's fair), although she didn't know how much to charge. Paces is wonderful. I came home to all my sleeping, atoning flatmates. I might as well join them. To anyone out there who needs it: I'm sorry.