I am just not man enough to handle the pummeling involved in a punk show. I can now understand the draw of Doc Martens, and kind of wish I still had mine from my brief grunge phase. Of course, that might also have entailed keeping the army field jacket and crop tops, and nobody wants that. The show last night was a good time, and the Ukrainian punk that didn't translate well to CD, sure did make for an awesome live show. Wilson was a rock star, and came out soaking wet, with torn clothing and bleeding hands.

Time to work. The FSOE is Thursday, and school doesn't stop. The challenge will be to keep myself from crawling back into bed.