"and if you get stuck, you can always Gogol it!"

I've been debating for a while now whether or not to mention one of the more monumental episodes in my personal picaresque of various kinds of failed (or interrupted) relationships. It might be interesting to some. It would probably be tiresome to others. It could definitely sound like an excuse. So, to avoid recusing myself from the general idea of trying to stop being such a baby and to step up and be a good person, instead I offer this:

I'm not sure why (or what it means that) what seems to have given me distraction is a conversation I had with a certain owner of a certain fancy French restaurant (I won't say which—this is my new personal hideaway, I've decided), but in trying to elucidate how, exactly, the connections I was trying to make between a (constructivist?) book on mentoring and a small tract on the social possibilities of art had anything to do with his doctor commenting on the fact that Nietzche is passe, I've come back to the conclusion that it's time, again, to figure out what on earth my senior thesis was trying to get at.

Soon as I find an electronic version of it, it will be available here, though suffice it to say that it's not worth reading, (though you could probably get the point from the last ten pages, which, you know, might be). But anyway, questions and provocations (even of the "you haven't even /read/ it yet?" ilk) are encouraged. With any luck, distraction /is/ a choice.