What possible harm can come from sitting down to write without a specific direction?

I'm sure that the only one to suffer will be my backspace key as I grow increasingly frustrated with 'train of thought' ramblings. It isn't late for me, but I am weary. The darkness encroaches like a gaggle of roaches. Last night (Tuesday?) a few of the crew was over at my place. There was drinking. I had a few things on my to-do list for the following day such as preparing to moderate a panel discussion and memorizing questions and answers for my Italian oral final exam. I'm still not too clear on how it happened, but somehow playing drinking games, getting burritos at Amado's, and torturng myself with a cold shower made it to the top. I hate cold showers. But I do love Amado's and drinking, so overall the night was enjoyable. Ah, Tuesdays.

Wednesday morning found me a bit sodden. I slurmed out of my bed somehow and made it into the shower. Cold again.

I got an A for my mad moderating skills. My instructor noted that I "asked great questions." That was probably because I hadn't finished the brunt of my research and honestly didn't know what the hell everyone was talking about. Fortunately, moderating doesn't necessarily require knowledge of the topic. As long as everyone else knows what they are talking about, you let them yammer on until you get tired of their voice and then try to get that pretty blond girl to talk because everyone (and I mean everyone) is looking for an excuse to give her their attention.

Yes, my fellow classmates carried me on their shoulders like a hung-over hero.

Life is so hard.

Kevin Spacey on Inside the Actors Studio. Pretty sweet. Watching it makes me almost consider ordering those VHS tapes of the show. Almost. Maybe when I have more cats.

Oh, in the Stuff I've Been Hesitant To Discuss category (which is broad, but nothing compared to the Stuff I Sho As Hell Won't Discuss,) I am turning 21 on the 12, the day after Mother's Day. My mother lucked out on that one, because I had turned eighteen the day before Mother's Day and gotten my Batman tattoo. My mom said it was the worst thing I had ever done to her. Yes, happy Mother's Day to all. No, but this way she'll be able to have a nice Mother's Day, and then early Monday morning come and bail me out jail for whatever fool thing I am going to get arrested doing after my power hour.

I forget I have a tattoo sometimes. I see it in the mirror and it will surprise me. It has been the same with my pending adulthood. Several times a day I realize that I will be turning 21. I'm still not sure how I feel about it.

So this Sunday night, my power hour. Are you in? And if you're worried about finals the next day, give me the name(s) of your professor(s) and I'll talk to them, see what I can do.

As I said, Life is so hard.

This would be the crazy guy who liked to sit next to us at on the train in San Francisco. I suppose that he found us more interesting than the characters in his head.

And here are Merik and Josh Hagler realizing that they don't like each other:

Miss Dana Pompa always finds the most interesting things...

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Second Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Very Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	High
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Moderate
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very High
Level 7 (Violent)	Very High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	High

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

There are a couple of things I'm not too clear on:

So do all the high scores mean I did well?

Whose idea was it to throw all the "lustful" people together in the same place? Apparently I am rubbing elbows with the likes of Cleopatra and Helen of Troy. Yeah, that'll teach me.

Why is the Pope here, and why does he keep making googly eyes at me?

My final query is to you, Dear Reader. Will I be seeing you in Hell?

The midnight hour finds me shakily recuperating from the festivities of the previous evening wth a veggie burger, a bottle of Killian's Irish Red, and The Nightmare Before Christmas. I listen intently to the respective laments of Sally and Jack. I struggle to pinpoint exactly what they are emoting. The feeling of having lost something dear and precious? Or perhaps simply looking for it and never finding it? Or just loneliness, I suppose. The film leaves me with a bittersweet feeling. I really like the movie. It helps remind me that the only place on this planet to find an entire universe is within another human being. The world is big, but not as big as what is inside there. It can be frightening to think that so much can be contained within so small a thing..