The problem? I'm nervous about going. Aside from being relatively alone – I wouldn't say that me and my TA are chummy ‘let's hang out’ friends – I'm afraid they'll chitchat in Bangla and I'll be the only one answering in english because I suck.

Mostly, I don't want to be thrown into strangers by myself. Sigh.

He left his home early on and wandered the well travelled roads, crossing into the continents of Antonica and Kunark. Over time, he amassed strength and, through some chance encounters, choice booty.

He was slow to level, though, lacking the eliteness and addiction of others, and often tried to solo. Because of this, he made few friendships, save for Hopperr Tallfellow (a Halfling druid), Gimlli (a Dwarf warrior), and Honi (an Erudite wizard).

He enjoyed fletching, swimming, sensing directions, and casting evocation spells on the undead.

Diovan took little into the afterlife except for several sewing and fletching kits, a Sarnak Emblazened Tabard, many stacks of food and water, and other junk. He left his prize processions (a Mithril Two-Handed Sword and Deepwater Helm among them) to a Dark Elf necromancer.

He perished yesterday at around 1:30 PM in Upper Guk.

He regrets not being able to use his Deepwater Helm, and the paladin's general (and useless) handicaps while he was still active.

(Yes, 17 days, 17 hours, and 33 minutes of playing time have finally come to an end. Bye bye, EverQuest.)

Diovan, with his druid halfling buddy Hopperr Tallfellow, running amuck around the Lake of Ill Omen. Wolf form is cast on both.

Diovan, sitting on the throne of the Ghoul Lord in Lower Guk moments after defeating it with some of his guild members.

Those loud voices in the living room ruined the ending somewhat. Bastards. Halfhung.

My first attempt to determine a cause was over the weekend: perhaps the electromagnetic field generated by the electrical cords interfered with the 60-or-so feet of cable coiled behind the TV? I moved that unwieldly pile away from the center of electrical activity and still the signal was marred.

It then occurred to me that maybe the cable itself was damaged in some way, but connecting it directly to the main outlet proved this false: the signal was strong and clear.

My last effort was to connect my cable from the splitter to the cable box. I forget what I meant to accomplish, but I found something astonishing.

I found that the cable from the main outlet was connected to the output of the splitter, and that the cable to the cable box was connected to the input. It was a transmission enema, and my cable got the end results. How the cable box functioned properly, I'm not so sure.

It was at that realization that a little light flickered in my head.

And Ryan forcibly dragged me into moshing, which was fun, but I felt a little silly and so I stepped out of the way when I could. My discman was trampled many times but it's still breathing.

There are many indy rock artsy punk other thing kids lurking about. They only come out to see their kind en masse, apparently, in the seclusion of a house.

But when did I make ninjakitten.net?

In was in this confusion of not being able to get my program work correctly that I started talking to Tom – a CS/math major – online. He also had problems completing the work, and we thought that between us we could arrive at solution to turn in.

That was two years ago, and we still haven't progressed. Well, we haven't been trying either. But we have kept in touch through instant messenger.

Anyhow, we met in cs338 today for the first time in two years. Craziness, no?

And then the professor sucked the attention span out of me and I put my head down and half-napped, leaving during the mid-class break.

All are excused from going to class now, including me.

Well, not everything.

I tried as best I could to focus on these things, but to the best of my abilities I could only guess that they were icicles. How they could have formed, I know not.

Once I was within several yards of the art building, I removed my scarf and gloves and passed my hand across my brow. A wetness had been transferred from my brow to the back of my right hand. How the wetness formed, I also know not, though I suspect it was either sweat – unlikely – or precipitation that had built up from the focused stacks of steam through the scarf after each exhale.

All that's certain is this: cold weather sucks. Tomorrow will be colder yet.

First day was a first day. Much walking, much cold. Two classes with different uncertainties, tea with honey and chocolate Oreos to dip, American Idol.

Ian – my freshman supervisor at work, had ye forgotten – said that he's ‘greatly impressed’ with my programming abilities. I'll skip the modesty and admit that I do have skill with syntax and organization and all when I get into programming mode. If I could find a project that greatly interested me in programming, I'd do it.

Yes, yes, it's ironic and maybe a bit hypocritical when I whine about not wanting to be a programmer and all that crap. I don't want to be an assembly line programmer. I want to donate my logical sperm – as a manner of speaking – in creating a binary child. My name needs to be attached to the product as a subheading, not a footnote.

But I digress. Our phoneline is disconnected because the bill is slightly overdue by almost two months. Time to play an accountant.

• I used soap on my body yesterday, the first time in over a month.
• At $53 to my name, I am too broke for real groceries, but I managed to buy a pizza, a Dutch apple pie, Ghirardelli muffin mix, and salsa from Meijer. I also pocketed a $16 package of Mach3 Turbo blades. Then it was off to Target for Milano cookies and Pop-Tarts.
• (While at Meijer, I stuck a round ‘video game return policy’ sticker on Toby's back. There was an 8-pointed, neon green star. Arun and Andrew found it almost as humorous as me. He has yet to realize that I put it there. I wonder if he'll wear it around campus tomorrow… Sticker on suede is not smart; sorry again, Toby.)
• Dave did a wonderful job in cleaning the apartment and adding decorations (including Christmas lights strung criss-cross along the living room ceiling). It's welcoming. We hope that it stays this way.
• Toby is back from Spain, Andrew is semi-back, and time was well-spent just chilling and relaxing. Like in the days of yore.
• The captions used on Joe Millionaire are set in Poetica, I'm 99.9% sure of it.

Good luck, all. Don't follow me to the ocean bottom.

There was another dream earlier in the night with all the Saved by the Bell characters. Kelly shocked herself accidentally, and Slater and Jessie were raving about a new variety of Frito Lays chips, a new cousin of the sour cream variety.

How did Kelly get shocked, you're wondering. Well, she was running her hands over an electrical switchboard, or something like it. Tens of thousands of volts went through her, and she was sent to the hospital. People were sad.

I don't remember if I had a part on the show or not, but I asked someone if it was because she wasn't negatively charged that she got shocked, and his reply was yes.

His character would be named Tobias Halfhung, son of Little Richard Halfhung.

Note: The person who told you Evian is na�ve spelled backwards will undoubtedly insist on calling Target tar-zhay. Nod politely. This is a very lonely human being.

The first thing that came to mind while reading that was: Ryan. Totally.

If only I was so clever with my fraudulent dealings…I'd be in jail. Scratch that.

And then it snowed.