I don't know what I'm doing wrong, but I still can't see my picture. I'm sorry for everyone trying to see it, although apparently some people can. On a related note, I promise to shut up about my hair unless I get it cut further (which I just might), at which point I will futilely try to post another picture and fail miserably.

I was having such a good day (apart from my monstrous headache) until I realized I forgot to set my VCR to tape Deuce on The Price is Right. If anybody set their VCR to tape Price is Right today for any reasons, please let me borrow it. No questions asked.

If anyone out there cares about this sort of thing at all, ToyFare is doing an exclusive Faker figure from the new Masters of the Universe line of awesome toys. You might remember Faker as a blue He-Man with orange hair. Either way, we're very excited about him and I can't wait to get my hands on one. By the way, in case you were wondering, the building I'm sitting in is the largest collection of dork energy on the entire East Coast. I don't know where the honor falls on the West Coast, but it's probably the production offices of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or something like that.

So, this weekend, Matt Jankowski went to Vermont. Whether or not this is a condemnation of what I've been doing with my site, I have yet to figure out. I haven't seen Matt since he moved to New Roc City, but I had passes for a screening of I Spy over there last week that I should have given him. It has Owen Wilson in it.

I also haven't been back to Boston since graduating, except for once when I was there for literally two or three hours (awake). Which means that the only friends I've seen since the end of the summer are the ToyFare guys and the occasional odd run-in in the mall. I saw Bill Greene this weekend. Brooke found him first. Apparently she saw him in her chocolate store and said "Weren't you in Fiddler? I'm engaged to Motel!" That's not something you get to say every day.

In the embarassing moment department, apparently yesterday I walked into Brooke's chocolate store with a dozen roses mere moments after some strange demin-clad kid had asked her out on a date. I was blissfully unaware, of course, but it was awkward for everyone else. Needless to say, she chose me. Roses beat denim every time.

Looking back on things in general, I'm one incredibly lucky bastard. Thank God.