Even though I leave for Los Angeles at the end of the month, I've decided to waste money and blow off an entire weekend of work by making one last trip to Columbia. So if you're one of my Columbia readers (and I don't hate you), then drop me a line.

Lyndsay beat me to the punch by announcing one of the most exciting milestones of my life: Gwyneth Paltrow was in OKC on Saturday night for the Coldplay concert. Although I didn't go to the concert, it was euphoric enough just for me to know that she's been to the city of my birth. And someday we'll be married. Oh, and Lyndsay, my reference to people not responding to my American Idol inquiry was notdirected at you. It was directed at Rachel, who has disappeared from the planet and caused me to worry. Bring back my ouranophobe fix!

Zach and I worked on our open-mic night songs this weekend. I'm pumped. I haven't sang in front of a large group since high school (my disastrous MU auditions and one horribly drunken karaoke night notwithstanding). The songs I chose to sing at the high school talent shows cause me to shudder. Let's just say that Time In a Bottle is an unlikely choice for a high school freshman to sing.

After a year of searching, I finally found an mp3 of the live version of "Why Don't You Write Me," one of my favorite Simon and Garfunkel songs. I love the feeling of playing a studio-recorded song to death and then finding a new, refreshing version to overplay.