Choosing Virginity was a ray of sunshine to read.  It gives me hope for the future of our species.  There's nothing so annoying as people who feel that single people need to be dating, like in the story about Lenee.  No one needs to date.  Some may want to date, and that's their choice.  Some may even choose to ruin their lives with premarital sex, but hopefully those that do will end up like Lucian Schulte. 

Anyway, I should catch up on the weekend.  Sunday night/Monday morning Xanga was down, so I'm on tonight after bedtime in order to not get a whole weeke behind in journaling. Holiday hours have started, which means that if I want a full night's sleep I need to get up, go to work, come home, go to sleep, repeat.  I'm being bad, but I hate being behind even more than I hate being tired.

I've always been uncomfortable with being smart.  When I was a preteen I actually went out of my way to dumb myself down just so I can get a few of the outcasts to even give me the time of day.  It's something I grew to regret over time, and by the time high school came around I resolved to be myself regardless of the consequences and I ended up turning alright.  But being smart still makes me uncomfortable when I'm forced to acknowledge it. 

So imagine my surprise when in the course of a week, three of my friend all tell me at different time and in different situations that I'm smarter than them.  My instinctual reaction is to immediately deny it.  Oh sure, at work I hear all the time that I'm smarter than them.  But at work, I know I am smarter than most if not all of them.  They display it almost every day when they make mistakes, avoid using common sense, and display a slow retension rate.  I just except it as reality there.  But I always like to imagine that all of my friends are on the same level with me.  It bursts my bubble when I'm confronted with reality.  And while thinking about it I realised that I probably am smarter than two of them, but I don't know the third well enough to know.  I'm kind of secretly hoping I'm not. 

Anyway, I didn't get any sleep Thursday night.  This was so I could get to the after Thanksgiving Day sales.  It's an annual tradition in our family to go get some of the great deals out there.  Hardware Wars DVD foir $1.99.  Need I say more?  Anyway, I was a little tired throughout the day, and ended up being awake for thirty-six hours by the time I went to bed after Tom's D&D campaign. 

Yes, I said Tom's campaign.  It turns out that Tom and Michael will be alternating weeks from now on.  This will let Mike have the chance to be just a player more often, and will hopefully force Tom to actually plan his game sessions ahead of time.  We discovered that we're a season or two further in the future in a different part of the world (or at least that's the story my half-orc barbarian is sticking to, I hate the fact that the other characters are using their players' knowledge that we're in another plane/alternate universe).  It turns out that the people who were masquerading as Thayvians were actually the priesthood of Geiragos (I haven't seen it spelled yet, so that's just a guess).  They're anti-magic, and have been having a war against Elminster and his disciples for years.  So we're fugitives hoping to set things right here.  Trav's elven cleric has discovered that his god's power only exists in this realm through him (ie if he was of a high enough level, the higher level spells would be barred from him).  Of course, he hasn't shared that, but even if he did I'm not sure my character would grasp what it means right away.  Maybe if he used sock puppets. 

Saturday Trav ran his Earthdawn again.  We were all asked to spilt up and lead our own groups on four different quests that can't be delayed.  These quests are all important because the Therans have just invaded Barsaive with the intent of reconquering the region.  If we value our freedom, we must go to war.  Aparently, Travis hopes that by having several different campaign story arcs going at once, he won't get bored of running the campaign like he has in the past.  We'll all have to have four different character in his campaign (obviously), and they'll have to be two races from each of the two race books.  He didn't make any class restrictions, but I'm sure the racial restrictions will be enough to force roleplaying onto some of those who can't handle it.  So in addition to my Human Journeyman, I'm planning on making an Obsidiman Purifier, Orc Liberator, and a Tsrang Boatman.  They're all racially specific classes from the race books.  I like the opportunity of playing racially specific classes, as it really lets you explore the unqiueness of the campaign world.  Nois is going to team up with Rusty's dwarf to unearth the ancient Barsaivian air fleet which was lost and is suspected to be buried deep into the northern mountains. 

Sunday my Mom said goodbye to Father Milt at church, so I suspect that she thinks she's moving this week.  We'll see.  I don't have that kind of faith.  Maybe two or three weeks from now, but not this week. 

Monday, Wayne and his father Al met me at the Himilayan Restaurant along North Metrocenter Parkway.  Afterwards we went to Wayne's and played Settlers of Katan and Scrabble.  I lost Scrabble once I was challenged on the word "roi".  I specifically asked if foreign words counted before placing down the tiles.  Losing out on that twenty-seven points, plus letting all put his word there and get thirty-five lost me that game.  I don't know if I would have won or not if "roi" hadn't been challenged, as it was close, but I definately lost after that.  I was never able to make up the point deficit.  The stupid dictionary included several phases with the word "roi", but they refused to allow it claiming that "roi" didn't have its own listing at Mirriam's Webster Dictonary online.  Highly frustrating, but its only a game.  They're were playing a rather cutthroat version of Scrabble, which is something I'm not used to when playing Scrabble with family.  To add insult to injury, they kept pronouncing it as r-oi rather than r-wah.  With four years of French in HS, you'd think they could have trusted me on such a simple word. 

Oh well.  Al's a cool guy.  I could see why he married Meera.  I could also see why they didn't last.  They both share a passion for the spirtual and for societal change.  But their monetary sense are totally opposite.  Meera will always need someone to manage her finances as she'll never willingly learn how to manage them for herself.  Al is a salesman, and pretty much sees most human dynamics as sales-related.  We talked movies, and he suggested I develop a movie club so that I can get people to go see movies with me and have intelligent conversation afterwards.  I probably won't do it, but it sounds like it could be a good idea.  If I was willing to devote the time it would take to create and run effectively. 

Well, I'll be paying for this tomorrow.  Yet, journaling and prayer are my life coping mechanisms.  I don't usually let go of something fully until I've had time to type it out of my system.  Otherwise, it just keeps swirling inside my head stewing there.  It doesn't really matter if its possitive, negative, or neutral.  If something effected me, its still there until I've typed it out.  Coping is usually in prayer, but release is usually in typing.  It's so freeing to see the words on page or screen. 

Of course, some things I'm not ready to let go of.  Those I don't end up typing out, or get deleted as I start typing them out.  I'd give an example, but obviously I'd just delete anything I tried to give as one.  Suffice it to say, we all have our things with which we haunt ourselves, good or ill--even me.  It's something I've been working on secretly, trying to break down the fears that work within me.  Maybe someday I'll be able to type everything I feel.  That's my goal.  Or at least, one of my top current self-improvement goals.  I guess only time will tell how successful I become.  Some might think it'd be easier in a private entry, but its the actual typing out that's the method of release.  It wouldn't matter if it was private or public, the only difference is a simple toggle.  I'll probably never bother with a private entry.  What'd be the point anyway?  I've always wanted to be saved for posterity anyway.  What better way than disemination through the masses.

Anyway, I'm tangent rambling now, rather than going to bed as planned.  I guess it's a good thing I didn't IM with anyone tonight.  I could have been up until dawn.  Or worse, expelled!    (Gotta love Hermione.)  OK.  I'm really going.  Night!