So, one recent night, I was standing outside of an apartment building, waiting for my improv rehearsal to start. I was standing there, mindin� my own, drinking an early evening cup of Starbucks for a bit of a boost, when I saw someone walking up the street. I let the person pass, enjoying my coffee, when suddenly, I was struck by a thought: I totally could have mugged them.

It�s the perfect disguise. Who would expect to be mugged by someone drinking a four dollar cup of coffee? It would be even better, thought I, were I wearing a suit. No one would ever guess that they were about to get the old �your money or your life� from a guy in a decent suit holding a cup of upscale java. You wouldn�t even have to use the coffee as a weapon, as the element of surprise would be enough.

The newspapers would unimaginatively deem you �the Starbucks Mugger,� or perhaps the �Java Jacker,� or, my favorite, simply: �The Yuppie.�

Lo to him who meets The Yuppie�.

Speaking of bugging the unsuspecting, yesterday I was out driving when my forward path was suddenly blocked. A group of slightly unattractive people carrying high end cameras were running across the street toward what appeared to be a large Hummer limo. This was the first time I ever witnessed the paparazzi in action firsthand, but, disappointingly, they were only shooting Randy Jackson from American Idol.

He waved and smiled as he walked to his �car,� as one of the photographers perched himself at the front passenger side. Randy got in, and almost instantly, most of the photogs dispersed, except for the guy in front. Since I couldn�t drive with them in my way, I got to see him slowly lower his camera when he realized he wasn�t going to get another shot.

I know it�s a clich� to point out these types of photographers as miserable people, but this guy seriously looked like he wanted to kill himself. There was as much self loathing on his face in that moment as someone who just compulsively watched eight hours of porn. And why not, really, when your job is basically stalking people? I imagine it�s the kind of gig that�s a lot of fun at first, before you have that flash of self-awareness that you make your living annoying everyone, like telemarketing or Jim Belushi.

In �Bill reveals his personal life, but not too much� news, Robin and I decided to split. My natural inclination is to write all about it, and find the poignancy, what it says about the human condition, and generally just let it all out�but I don�t want to. I�ve had enough of that in the past on diaryland. The two people who need to know all of the details already know them.

Mixed feelings, complex relationships, and trying to maintain a friendship with someone you care about who also happens to share your clubhouse: Welcome to adulthood.

Looking to the near future, my youngest brother Barry might might might be coming out for the summer to work as a production assistant at my current place of employ. If he were to do so, we would be sharing my room til at least August.

So, either way, really, I�m not getting laid for at least three months.