Dylan sent me a very touching email the other day. You know what I like (one among many things) about Dylan? He told me I'd never get away with it, but even when I did he'd didn't have a problem with me. He's a good kid in a way I'll never be. And he lets me call him Dylweed, which I find infinitely amusing.

I think I've figured out my Neutral Man/rock show problem. Music matters to me, but it doesn't to him. He owns Creed because he liked them for a while. He owns Dave Matthews Band because he liked them for a while. He just bought a whole bunch of ska CDs at a used record store, but it won't last. His room is near the bathroom; so, I go by there many times in a day. Rarely do I hear music emanating from behind the door. My problem is not that I'm an "authentic" ska kid and Neutral Man's a poser, my problem is that I'm a music lover and NM's a poser. Glad I got that figured out. Now, if only I could dissuade Lindsay from liking Matchbox Twenty...

Weekend Round-up: CJN went well on Saturday, even considering the intrastaff tension. El Presidente's holier-than-thou Vegan arrogance was in check, and I had several nice non-anime discussions. (That's not the aforementioned intrastaff tension, just a small but nagging personal issue.) The Flying Dutchman's sister Amanda was in town for the weekend. As their last name is Lindemulder, I found it amusing to nickname her "Linda." Hee hee. I used a rake to fish Pothead Jay's tire iron out from under the back porch. It was fun because I got to play around in the dirt and leaves, and because using the rake was an ingenious idea.

I had a chance to call Lindsay last night, but I didn't. And for the life of me I'm not sure why. I've got theories, but then again I've always got theories.

(If there are spelling errors in the above posts, it's only because I didn't feel like proofreading.)