It's been a very video-game-y week for me. That Pokémon addiction I thought was long over? Yeah, turns out it was just dormant. I bought the new Ruby version on Tuesday... and I haven't been the same since. Now alls I needs is one o' dem sweet new GameBoy Advance SP's so I can actually see the screen, and I'll be all set.

I also bought a new DDR pad on the web. A metal one. How's that for hot? It's like I bought an arcade machine without paying $5,000.

I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but directing a sketch comedy group is actually more work than you'd think it'd be. Anyway, Throat Culture goes up in a week, so Hell Week is this one coming. Yay. It'll be all over soon. Oh, yeah, and if you're in the Baltimore area, you should come. Only $1. March 28th@8pm, 29th@8pm, and 30th@2pm. JHU, Homewood campus, Arellano Theater. I should add that this will be a big opportunity for all you potential stalkers out there... I will be at those shows unless I'm dead. In which case, my funeral times will probably be listed in the Newark, NJ Star-Ledger. See? Win-win sitch for stalkers.

What happens when Dave's only class of the day being cancelled coincides with Purim (the Jewish drinking holiday), St. Patrick's Day (that other drinking holiday), and SomePoems.com's 100th Post? Do I really have to ask?

I made my own green beer, even though I'm way more connected to Purim, just because it's fun. I ended up dressing up in costume (a must for Purim) anyway, even if it was for for Throat Culture's filming. TC seems to be going along very well, or I hope it is anyway. We've gotten so much accomplished recently, that it might all just come together in the end. Possibly.

RI ended up with even more drinking, to no one's surprise, and another new card game, also to no one's surprise. But it really was a lot of fun. While I was up there, I got to hang out a bunch with Patrick's and his brother's dog, Chaka. Even though the poor thing was more mental than most cats, he was really lovable. My goldfish of almost four years, Sweet, who made his home with my parents in NJ, died recently. Sometime in February or early March, I think... I'm not sure because my parents didn't tell me until I'd gotten back home. He was a graduation present from Mr. Borlo, my high school teacher and vampire extraordinaire, and his full name is "Sweet Gefilte Fish." Mr. Borlo was a nutty guy. Anyway, he'd been looking kinda sickly when we got back home from Hawaii, so I finished up my last roll of film on him, just in case I didn't get another chance. I guess it was a good call on my part. Poor little guy probably got all depressed when we weren't around and stuff.

So, for the first time since my dog died (around Junior year of high school), I have no pets. It's very odd, and not in a good way. I'm going to get a cat, even though I'm allergic to them. I love cats. The allergy is something of a curse, actually. I've decided with no real evidence that having a cat will help me overcome it. Anyway, cats are low maintenance (at least the one I get will be) and are cool with living in an apartment. If I'm in Baltimore for the summer, I'm hoping to get one sometime in May. Otherwise, it'll be in the fall. If everything pans out, of course.

I should probably say something about SomePoems.com, given that this is the 100th post and all. A "state of the website" or whatever. Well, over the last 100 posts, viewership is up, Google searches are up, and the layout has changed twice. The server has changed from Win2K to Linux. Movable Type has been installed, and a new version installation is being contemplated. SomePoems now appears in digest form on DiaryLand, on which some of you might be viewing this very message right now. The blog has been updated infrequently, and the webcam even more so. Ladies and gentlemen of the Internet, the state of the website is strong.

Wow, this is really vacationing on the low end of the buck. I've hung out with my friends for like a week, eating, drinking, playing games (board, card, and video), and more drinking. We've only been out to eat twice, and we'll go once more tonight. I think our biggest excursion was to the supermarket. It's been just as snowy and icy in RI as it's been in NJ and MD, I guess. What I'm getting at is that there's basically no reason to be here. Though the house is nice.

Not that it hasn't been fun just hanging out, but, like, they'll all be graduating this year, and that'll be it for spring breaks for me, won't it? I mean, you only go on these trips with friends you've become really close to. I could be optimistic and think that I'll somehow make friends of this caliber in time to book reservations on some tropical island next year, but come on. It's not gonna happen. I'm gonna end up as that guy who's been at the school forever, who's sure fun to hang out with 'cause he buys alcohol for the younger kids, but doesn't develop those strong friendship bonds with them because they all live together and have classes together, and he's off on his own somewhere off-campus. Or something like that.

I'm stuck on archetypes. I don't think it's good for me. Everything with me right now is like "the John Hughes dork friend guy," or the "John Hughes inevitable boyfriend guy," or the scenario guy I described above. I've built up some kind of archetype caste system up in my mind, one that doesn't allow movement between levels. I've "identified" where I fall, and I'm being all fatalistic and stuff about being stuck there for the rest of my life. I mean, it's not that it's impossible to move between them. But it takes such a huge effort, and I'm not sure the pusuit of something like that is any more healthy than just staying where I am. Because if I do, do I become me pretending to be someone I'm not, or just someone else entirely?

I've always looked to movies when philosophizing about real life. The problem with that is: movies aren't helpful for dealing with real life. The happy endings are always too convenient. The sad endings are always too dramatized. The dialogue always comes out better. The scenes don't end too early or too late. Everything fits, for better or worse. Movies suck, even as a jumping off point. But I don't think I'll ever be ready to give them up.

... and by that I mean Rhode Island. Wow. Haven't been there in a few years. Last time'd probably be when I was visiting colleges 4 years ago. Brown, sigh, my first choice. Whatever, Hopkins rocks, and I don't say that lightly. Way too many people whine about their schools. If they don't like them, they should drop out.

Needless to say, the only thing that could call me up to RI for Spring Break would be an empty house, a bunch of friends, and limitless supplies of alcohol. Luckily enough, that's the position I should find myself in, come Monday. Hopefully there'll be more than a little drunken DDR, and maybe even some Para Para. Swiznak!

Is it wrong to be attracted to a girl just because she reminds you of another girl you were in love with? 'Cause there's this girl in one of my classes... yeah. And by reminds, I'm talking both about looks and intelligence factors. No idea about her personality. But, I mean, isn't there like a split opinion on this issue? One side being that people are typically attracted to a "type," and the other side being that it's not really healthy to associate someone you've just met with the memory of someone else. But, I mean, if I think she's cute, and smart, where's the harm, right? Right?

Sonic II, my VR6 Jetta GLS, passed the ever so wicktastic milestone (pun!) of 20,000 miles the other day. This was very exciting for me. And for it too, I'm sure, because it means I need to schedule a service. The event occured as I was returning from Best Buy on Tuesday night, after buying The Osbournes Season 1 DVD set.

That lump on the back of my neck is officially "probably not a swollen lymph node." It is approximately 3 cm wide by 1 cm tall. They said at the Wealth and Hellness Center that it may be a subcutaneous cyst. I had a general idea of what that was, but I looked it up anyway. It basically means a non-tumor mass. I guess that's what I'm hoping it is now.

So, evidently:

"You know, two more poems like this one, and you need to start submitting to journals."

Can all the color drain from your face, well up inside you, and explode, in half a second? If so, it did.

The world becomes wavy lines, and we are suddenly in the midst of a Dave flashback.

It is February 14, 2003, Valentine's Day (duh) and Dave's 21.5th birthday. A year before this, he had been considering that in half a year he would be drinking. This year, he is out at the Towson Ruby Tuesday's with his roommate Mark doing just that. There was a deal on draft: 2 for 1. Two rounds of Killian's it was. Dave had fish too.

It was hard not to notice the groups of girls also at Ruby Tuesday's. They were out in bunches, four's and five's, and silently taunting Dave: "Look at us here, look at all the available girls out on Valentine's night. And yet... still no date for you." Although he and Mark ended up having a good time, and went to see the somewhat entertaining Daredevil movie, these thoughts still hung heavy in Dave's mind.

More wavy lines. We've traveled approximately two weeks into the future.

Dave is chatting on Instant Messenger with his Londonite brother Adam. Adam accuses Dave of not taking dating seriously because, if he did, he would obviously have a girlfriend this instant. Adam stresses the importance of sex over the insignificant factor of love. Adam, of course, is very smoove wit da ladies, and sleeps with multiple underwear models over the course of each week. Really. Dave jokingly suggests to Adam that: "Maybe I'm assexual, like Hitler." Adam now accuses Dave of not taking anything seriously, which is probably true.

More wavy lines, and we're back.

I think there was some lesson in there for me. Just not sure what it is yet.