Written under the small picture

I called Jon S. He wants me to write a 500 word essay on his art, communicating his philosophical ideas to the general public, in ordinary language. I'll need to sleep on it.
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Email from Nick. He hadn't had the time and energy to organise the K Twins gig on top of his own band's, and had difficulty plucking up the courage to tell me. I thought that was probably what was going on.

Sent him a reply saying I understand and there was no need to worry about my reaction. I respond badly to manipulative people, self important bullies, and not knowing the situation. Not to someone honestly saying "I thought I could but I can't."
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I never thought I'd say this, but I'm rather enjoying Enterprise. After three absolutely dire seasons, the final season of the final Star Trek incarnation is rather good. Just concievably this is something to do with a new producer hiring differnent writers.

There's a final Star Trek film on the way though. And a glance at the directors and producers tells me it'll be just as crap as the last one.
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On Friday is the university's annual exhibition of the work of graduating art students. This is the event where I run into graduates from my own year (class of 2001), the haggared remains of my old tutors, and a room full of quite stunningly mediocre artworks, usually with one brilliant work somewhere in a corner.

Friday is also the evening H is free. I might be able to persuade him to come to the exhibition, instead of seeing the League of Gentlemen film. Maybe.

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