There has to be a better plan than going to work today. There has to be.

Gurf.

So, over the weekend, this girl signed my guestbook, saying that this little page of mine is "Not exactly a diary that gave me a reason to live, but [it has] cool graphics"

Well, fuck. I'm pretty depressed. If I can't give 14 year old Finnish girls a reason to live, I should just give this up right now.

Hang in there, babe. Stay alive. I hope you one day find a diary that gives you a reason to live and has cool graphics. It'll happen.

Well, I had my last improv class over the weekend. It was pretty anti-climactic, and not that fun, even though it was substitute taught by a guy who was supposedly Stephanie Weir's husband. We did a lot of talking about theory, and it was mainly academic. We did do some scenes, though, and I think my best line was "Why does white trash always win the lottery?"

So, the class agreed that we didn't exactly end on a high note.

Afterwards, drunken antics did indeed ensue, so that was fun. We went to someone's apartment, and then ended up at a bar called Lithium, which is a nice, dimly lit lounge type place on Belmont and Sheffield with lots of board games and plush burgundy colored furniture. I got home around 3am, and I can tell you that an excellent way to stave off and prevent hangovers is to microwave and eat about 40 tater tots before going to bed.

At the bar, we were playing Jenga, and apparently those who had played Jenga before us had hand-written little things to do on each of the pieces. So, a lot of the pieces said stuff like 'do your best Saturday Night Live impersonation' or 'whisper sweet nothings into the ear of a person of the opposite sex at the next table.' Stuff like that.

I got one that said 'Be a rock star.'

I thought for a moment. Then, I leaned back, downed my drink, and grabbed the classmate of mine sitting on my right. If she was surprised, her face didn't register it. Not that I gave her much of a chance. I gave her a non-sloppy, no tongue stage kiss. Lip to lip, it lasted around 10 seconds or so.

It was about as rock star as I wanted to be at the time.

What would you have done?

(FadeIn Director's Commentary Track: Today's considered and rejected topics were 1: my youngest brother's birthday dinner yesterday, 2: The Middle East conflict explained as if they were rival high school kids, and 3: the slowly advancing mixed feelings of sadness and excitement being brought on by my eventual [around six weeks from now, for the scorekeepers] move)

And now, off to work. Beh.