There’s some­thing about the chem­istry between Jon Favreau and Vince Vaughn that sim­ply fas­ci­nates me, and although I’m sure the momen­tum of it spawned the painful movie Made, I still feel inclined to watch it over and over again.

My course load got eas­i­er this term, when I dropped a six hour per week course for a three hour one. Light sched­ules always seem to make my mind sloven, as if the load isn’t enough to put my mind in gear, so I grow rest­less in neu­tral. I won­der what I’m going to do when I’m out of school and look­ing for a job, some­thing which will be hap­pen­ing with­in the half-year.

For some rea­son, Dolly takes an invari­able fas­ci­na­tion with the brush­ing of my teeth. Wherever she is, she’ll stalk up to my loca­tion and gaze intent­ly at the act, hunched for­ward with the weight on her front paws. I can’t fig­ure out what aspect of the brush­ing she may find inter­est­ing, and I won­der whether she’ll ever tire of watch­ing.