Death to COMP

The COMP music festival is done. I think it went pretty well, and Dr Freund seemed pretty pleased. However, I just got a pissy email from Dr. Platt about how I'm dumb and a poor worker, which just pissed me off. It pissed me off enough to write a top-five countdown of the reasons why I dislike him. But I just deleted it because I thought it was immature.

A week from yesterday Mark and I will be in New York, at the Met (by the way, Peter Grimes was really good today in HD). And a week from tomorrow, we'll be in the Bahamas with Ryan and Jen. Ryan and I have professed that we will be drunk literally every second of the trip. I hope this is true. I haven't been drinking much lately. I called Mark last night to ask him to pick me up a drink on his way home, but he didn't care about me enough to indulge me.