"I like my nose. I like breathing out of it."

Please excuse the recent dearth of posts, but there's actually a good excuse: I broke my nose. There I was, at my favorite biker bar on Spring Break (hah!), when some muscle-shirted, tattooed chump had the gall to claim that Rivette was better than Resnais, and so naturally I had to verbally upbraid him. Insults were exchanged, and inevitably fisticuffs ensued. Actually, this whole incident may be the morphine talking, but I prefer to remember it that way than something more banal (falling in the bathroom, for instance). A 14-hour hospital stay and some yummy antibiotics later and I'm still a little sore and out of it, but otherwise no worse for wear. In some ways the nose looks better. Hope to post soon.