August 09, 2004 - 8:56 a.m.
I am some sort of wizard, and have powers. My powers are multitudinous and... uh... powery. One such power is the power to convince you, using magic (or perhaps even Magick), that I did not update my diary.
Protect thy mind against Magickck, dear readers, because thou canst... hast... the power of...
Ah, screw it, okay, I kind-of-sort-of didn't update my diary last week. But that's an unfair thing to say about myself, since I did, in fact, update TWO diaries last week. I meant to mention it here, but I stupidly ran out of the time to do so. Fiddling with the HTML diddlybits took me a lot longer than I figured it would.
So what did I do? Oh, I did this. And also this. Enjoy! See, I completely and totally did some updating last week. Incidentally, is there anyone reading this who still remembers that old layout on Kevspace, before I got all sad and made it pale blue with lines on it?
I'm hungry, because what was originally intended to be my breakfast has been promoted to Lunch, in order to not have to pay for lunch. I am totally broke. A lot of really lame crap I don't want to write about conspired to make me both work less and pay more than usual last month and so I'm broke. Well, that's not entirely true; I have two dollars. But I need it to buy the quart of milk I am going to pour on my cereal lunch.
I have to somehow survive until the 16th. Does anybody want to buy a finely-detailed, in-joke-stuffed original Kevin doodle? It'd take up a whole page and be the only one like it in the whole world. This isn't really a business proposition; I'm just hungry and broke and my new driver's license still hasn't arrived. Whereas before my car refused to run because (and this is only a theory) it was sick of being driven so much, I think it has now completed thingicide from total boredom.
But, other than the whole "being totally broke and licenseless" thing, life is good. It's been very eventful, as well, and since the internet doesn't work the way the real world does, that means I had less spare time to write about said events. Phooey.
You can tell I'm hungry by my writing, can't you? Perhaps you cannot. I sure can. Ack.
I suppose I'll just type in no particular order about some notable things. For instance, Jenny. Remember Jenny? If not, it's because, like Misa, I could never figure out how to write about her, really. Also like Misa, she rarely intersected with the high-school sector of my social life. And though they aren't really so similar as I seem to be suggesting (check my alliteration, yo! Dag!), Jenny and Misa both rock all sorts of socks.
Jenny has been visiting her hometown Santa Barbara from her Resident L.A. (AKA Resident Evil) and we recently had a lovely late-night chat at my place, a similarly lovely pseudopicnic on the balcony of a very nice house currently under construction (during which Jenny theorized that the alarmingly unbalanced muscles in my back were a sign of scoliosis), and a thirdly lovely and adorable adventure at the local animal shelter.
Most recently Jenny came up with her boy Ryan. Ryan is the only person I know, besides myself, that is cool enough to have snuck into E3 using the Badge of Torrez. Ryan is also the latest in a series of new friends who are as kind as they are tall (which is "near-freakishly"). Ryan had never experienced the experience of Fiesta in Santa Barbara. Those of you who actually live here should be having the same sort of reaction that I did, but hey. "It's funny," said once a wise animated crustacean from outer space, "You live in the universe, but you never do these things 'til somebody comes to visit."
The less said about wandering vaguely-Hispanic-themed booths in an intoxicated crowd to the sound of the whitest, oldest cover band in California, the better. I love to people-watch, so it wasn't awful, and Jenny and Ryan are genuinely funny people. Jenny also, it would seem, knows half the people in the city. Ryan had a sort of reaction to these surprise reunions that I envied. It's hard to describe, but all you need to know, I suppose, is that I like the guy.
We ditched Fiesta in search of Ms. Pac-Man, and Jenny piloted us into a particular bar, the name of which I do not know. There was a glorious, damnably bootleggish Multi-Pac cocktail cabinet inside. Ryan and I "got" our Pac-Man "on," and he would have triumphed over me had he not foolishly pursued a precariously-positioned pear. I also bumped into my sorta-housemate Brendan (or is it Brandon? How awful that I'm not sure) who got off a predictable quip about my never leaving my room. I'm about to start a sort of geek jihad against all the cliche jokes people make about video gamers, especially since I rarely have the time to actually play video games, what with all the socializing, working, reading, going outside and general life-having I've been doing.
He's nice enough, it's just that those sort of jokes are the reason I don't like going into places like bars in the first place.
I do think it's funny, however, that the Ms. Pac-Man game took place only the second time I'd been in a bar at all. It's funny, you see, because the first time was a year ago, just after I turned 21, when I entered the divey bar near my workplace in order to play their Galaga machine. (Note for Not-Nerds: Ms. Pac-Man and Galaga are both made by Namco and run on the same arcade hardware.)
Anyway, I stayed up until 2 AM with Jenny, Ryan and a person whose name may be spelled either Terry or Teri or otherwise who totally backed up Jenny's scoliosis theory and joined me in bursts of Peanut-Butter-Jelly Time. This was a ridiculously good time, but I really paid for it this weekend. Somehow this sort of fun confused my body completely, since my ordinary bedtime is more around 9 PM. I felt achey, like I was getting a cold or fever, and I had a Headache of Doom. It may have also had to do with the barely-alcoholic beverage I consumed, too, although I doubt it. Testing my theory that any amount of alcohol at all is way too strong for my 'supertasting' tongue, Jenny served me with a tiny glass of the watered-down beverage she was making for the others. Containing only half a shot of (I believe) rum masked by mint, it was still so strong that I had to sip it at intervals and replace any empty space left over with more water. But, much like Doctor Emmett Brown, I really can't hold my liquor. So perhaps my one-and-a-half-day headache was a hangover. I wonder?
It's my newly-official day off today, and it's really nice outside, so I don't really feel like typing at my computer any longer. Maybe later I'll write about the !!! show and the discovery of new best-thing-ever Deerhoof, Jon's TurboGrafx 16, Wizard People, and Eric's visit. (Probability of me actually writing about these things: 17%)
