9 something p.m. My computer clock is faster than the Blogger clock. Which is all kinda surreal cos it means that I'm writing these things after they've been published. Anyhow. Someone living on the floor below is practising on his -- sax? I'm bad at music and musical instruments and stuff. Which is fortunate because he's not terribly good but the music is mellow and kinda fills the night, or at least the hollow shaft-like thing that my window looks out on. My neighbour's alarm clock is going off at 15-minute intervals. Not so euphonious a night sound.



almost 11 pm now. I'm back from borrowing out all the (four) Elizabeth Peters books in the Butler stacks. The stacks are scary when they go dark. Not quite as scary as the rolling ones in Oxford, but nonetheless. And then briefly read bits of one book on the Low steps -- there's something about wide steps that invites sitting and reading, isn't there? -- and then tore self away to return here before my eyes fell out of their sockets. But I love being on campus at night. There are always groups of people playing frisbee or football, and others sitting around on steps/benches/fountain rims just chatting softly. The night makes people mellow. I'd rather talk to someone at night; people tend to be more relaxed, more willing to open up. There's a guy outside wandering around the curb -- not a homeless guy I mean; I think this one is waiting for something/someone? -- and singing softly 'She's got a ticket to ri-i-ide'. Either he's waiting for someone or he belongs to the 'Access-a-Ride' van parked nearby, which makes the song incredibly corny. Night sounds.