My apologies to Skeeter, but I cut my hair. My pink tresses are no more. I will admit that my contrary streak played a part in the decision - many people complimented the pink tips look, clearly it had to go - but it was not the primary reason. I just wanted to look like me again. I have very short hair. It's what I do.

For reasons unknown, AIM wasn't working earlier. Now it is, but nobody's online. Fokkers. (Well, accept the Flying Dutchman. Right now we're sharing the odd experience of IMing with somebody in the next room. Hee hee.)

After this Saturday's Animania screening, Bachelorette No. 1 shall henceforth be referred to as Q-Girl (short form of Quasi-Girlfriend... not too presumptuous). I'm not trying to get ahead of myself, but it's a rare thing for me to kiss a girl; consequently, I think there's something here. I hope to know more after Thursday's date. Don't get excited; I debated even saying anything. I'll alert you when there's anything big happening. (The following is a paraphrase, as I'm too lazy to look up the proper lines.) "What am I looking out for?" "There'll be flashing lights and a loud bell." "Really?" "Yeah."

On V-Day, I taped a sappy TV movie called The One. Why? Because it stars Richard Ruccollo, one of the two guys from the late, sometimes great Two Guys and A Girl. (Originally, Two Guys, A Girl, and A Pizza Place.) I watched the movie this afternoon. I've been thinking a lot about Lindsay today. Specifically, about her kissing me at Conor's the night of her going away party. Good thoughts, though, not depressing in the least. She's just... she's just amazing.

Listening to The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, "The Day He Didn't Die." "I really miss him/He would have loved this/I hope he can hear me."