Good lord, that Guster concert roxxored my soxxors! Aaaaaaaand... I got a setlist! Specifically, Brian the Thundergod's setlist! They played a wicked cool version of "Medicine" with Joe, their utility instrumenteur, rocking out on guitar in place of the stanzas. So good, even on my fourth time seeing them. They have yet to disappoint me. Yay!

My body, however, is all like: Yo, Dave, I'm 22 now, and I can't stand in one place for three and a half hours anymore! I'm old! My neck hurts; my back hurts; my feet hurt; my throat hurts.

Totally worth it though. Guster is for <3ers!

I'm blogging from campus, taking a short break from helping to sand an ottoman for the orientation play. I hadn't done woodworking for many years now, so maybe this day is actually turning out differently than most. Still, it's more woodholding for me than woodworking, due to a lack of certification to use the tools here. Oh well. At least it's something manly.

Arizona makes these huge plastic containers for green tea now. Not like the gallon ones for the fridge, but ones to carry along with you. Like those big Gatorade bottles. I have one here, and it's good to have a lot of tea.

ICQ sent me a birthday e-mail. This day gets better and better.

Penny wished me a happy birthday by making my leg bleed, then falling asleep in my lap. She LOVES me!

My birthday begins like any other day. Around midnight, Mark and I watch Bend It Like Beckham and eat pizza. I suggest that the taller, fitter British version of Natalie Portman in the movie will go places.

The date problem with my website has been fixed in time for my birthday. Yay!

Why am I still up? Dunno. Time for bed, though.

vodka + cranberry + sprite = my 22nd birthday party

Twenty-two is one over blackjack. This is just one indication that I've lived a year too long. It's just unlucky to be a twnty-something. Hell, I could be on the first season of Friends. That's sad. I should move to an impossibly large NYC apartment, be depressed, and buy a monkey.

It turns out that, although I had been bugging them about it, none of my friends actually bought a Guster ticket, and now they're sold out. So now I get to celebrate my birthday alone at the concert. Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me. Quite.

What is there to look forward to after the twenty-first milestone? Marriage. Old age. Death. And, apparently, solitude. So, as a cheery departure from my otherwise depressing post, here are some movie quotes (yay!):

"I'm pathetic, I'm a loser. I have failed, I am panicked. I've sold out, I am worthless."
-Adaptation

"I guess I'm just alone in my principles."
-That Thing You Do

"I am Jack's wasted life."
-Fight Club

"My life is a dark room. One... big... dark... room."
-Beetlejuice

"My life has been stolen from me. I'm living in a town I have no wish to live in... I'm living a life I have no wish to live.... How did this happen?"
-The Hours

"You don't know how lucky you are being a monkey. Because consciousness is a terrible curse. I think. I feel. I suffer."
-Being John Malkovich

"This is your life and it's ending one minute at a time."
-Fight Club

Now, don't we feel better? Hm?

Why do sickness and online chatting go hand in hand? Is it because when I'm sick, I don't feel up to talking with real people? Or is it because one immobilizing, depressing, loser-ish state deserves another? My stomach still hurts like hell, and I've already run through my list of drugs. I've eaten enough rice to cure a damn elephant's innards. And yet I am no less sick than I was a week ago. The only thing about me that could be called mildly better are my 1337 chatting skillz. And that's not much comfort.

I started work on a Flash movie trailer thing for this year's Halloween party, and I haven't even been working on that. I am so anti-productive when I feel terrible... hard to believe, no? It is for my mother, evidently. I guess she wouldn't get slowed down by week-long nausea.

So, I had been using the IRC client in eMule (wonderful but slow P2P, for those who don't know), but I threw caution to the wind and did a full install of mIRC. I figured that if chatting was all that was going on in my life, I shouldn't skimp. Then I started installing scripts... a little system iformation here, a little mp3 there... until I went for a full conversion addon. Now my chat is all pretty and customized and nicely formatted with a built-in mp3 player among other things.

Then I started nerding it up even more. Let's register my handle with the nickserv. Even better... let's register my own channel with the chanserv so I can party alone! Because who, in fact, would ever come to my channel? So I found an active channel to troll... not too many people, run by a camgirl, but enough snarky regulars to easily weigh out her fanboys looking to get their jollies off. This is a place I can chill, and be nerdy, which is the equivalent of soopercool in the real world.

I watched three episodes of Sex and the City last weekend. Mark and I have watched DivX cams of T3 and Tomb Raider 2 since then too, and they've definitely provided some balance. My laptop S-videos quite nicely to my TV, and the bootlegs've been pretty good looking. Watching downloads is the new going to the movies. It's totally jerkin'.

Two weeks until I turn 22. I'm not ready to give up 21 yet. I've done nothing cool with it. It's not fair. 22 is such a crap year. What do I have to look forward to now? I'm just going to be a "twenty-something." This is distressing. I'm not ready to give up angst. I never really took advantage of it. I'm going to invent twenty-something teenage angst. For the late bloomer. Available in most sizes.

My blog keeps reporting everything one day behind when it should. So when I post this, it'll show up as having been posted yesterday, and I'll have to edit it manually. It's only a recent thing, so I'm sure my host has messed up the time on my server. But when I IMed the tech support, I got no response. This is also distressing.

Plus, I've been sick. This has been a crap week altogether.