  Last night I watched the series premiere of "Summerland" on the WB. I've never met a series premiere that I haven't liked, and this one was no different. However, you can tell that they're going to use up all the big crowd-drawing stories in the first few episodes. The kids are going to get high, go on illicit dates, drink alcohol, and get knocked up all in season one. This means there might not be much room for a second season, but who cares. Having seen only one episode, I'd give the entire series two out of four stars: watchable, but nothing to plan my schedule around. I normally mute the tv when commercials come on. There's no reason to watch them, and they're all the same. During one of the commercials last night, the tv muted, I heard a knock on one of my neighbor's doors.
People just pound at the doors, so other people's knocks are usually somewhat audible in a quiet apartment. I usually ignore them. But the minute I heard a new voice in the hall, I jumped off the couch, ran toward the door, and watched through the eyehole. I am now officially "that nosy neighbor". The new guy across the hall is blonde and seems nice. That's about all I gathered from my espionage. Then when I was talking to my mom later, relaying the story, she asked, "Is he cute? Did you say he's cute?!". She was very enthusiastic. Thanks, mom. My advisor left on vacation today for a week and a half.
This instills work ethic in me in big ways, as you can imagine. Today I'll probably go to the gym around 3 and sit around the rest of the day. I went to another mechanic today. These guys had more tattoos than the previous ones, so I trusted them more with my car. They came up with almost the same diagnosis as yesterday's mechanics, which pleased me. Unfortunately, they either don't love motorcycles enough, or the fact that they're part of a big chain means an inflated cost. So I'll be taking it back to the first mechanics from yesterday. Exhaust pipes are not cheap, and salt and sand and ice have left mine in a rusty, rattle-y heap.
I was thinking I should just go on ebay and buy a new used Corvair, a la Josh. Then I thought of the cost of upkeep of one of those and changed my mind. I would need my own, personal, tattooed, motorcycle-loving mechanic at my whim. 
