Instead, I went to bed early. I do not regret this decision. It was nice to not feel like shit this morning.

I made up a new game yesterday while sitting in Comp Theory: guess the dream vacation. It only works if you barely know your classmates--it's no fun if you actually know where they would go on their dream vacation. You look at them, and, based on superficial evidence, decide where they would really love to go. For example, the woman with the enormous engagement ring is probably a "Caribbean cruise to an all-inclusive resort" type. She would expect her boyfriend/fiance/husband to pay for the whole thing, and it damn well better be top-shelf. The woman who has just returned to school now that her children are grown would want to go somewhere that has no resemblance to any theme park or family-style tourist attraction--someplace quiet and semi-secluded. Not one of those sleazy "rekindle your romance" places--perhaps something a little outdoorsy, but not too rugged. The tanned, muscular guy with the hiking boots and the sun-lightened hair would be into something involving, well, hiking. He'd be totally into Montana or Colorado, and he'd camp outside in a tent and cook all his food over a fire. The woman in the Hawaiian shirt would like to go to San Francisco or Australia. She'd stay in hostels and get to know the locals. The man whose demeanor screams "family man!" would pack the kids in the minivan and drive to Mount Rushmore or the Wisconsin Dells.

You get it. Well, I had fun doing it, and it was better than falling asleep while one of my classmates gave a presenation. That's rude, and you know I'm not rude. Heh.

Tonight, Tim and I are going to the Sox-Reds game at Comiskey Park. I haven't set foot in that place since I quit my job there in 1997. I was a hot dog cook. Yep, it sucked. I had to touch hot dogs *and* deal with vendors, who are often flaming assholes who will bicker over the most trifling, inane things. It paid pretty well, though.

From the musty archives: The Mall of America has four, count 'em, FOUR Sunglass Huts.

Of course, I lost all three games. You should expect no less from me. I did break the 100 mark in my first game, but it was downhill from there. Tim used to be a really good bowler, but now he's just a good bowler. I did beat him for approximately half a game, though. It wasn't the last half of the game, so it doesn't really count, but I've got to brag wherever I can when it comes to bowling.

Next week, I'd like to test out a couple more alleys. On the list: Waveland Bowl (they've got some decent party packages), Southport Lanes (which might be a little too Trixie for my tastes), and the ever-popular Marigold Bowl. I went to Uncle Fun and picked up some bowling-related party favors. My goal is to make sure that nobody leaves the party empty-handed.

Yeesh. All this talk about bowling...people are going to start thinking that this is Thinking of Hesterman. I've started talking about bowling over here, they've started making fun of Rush over there--it seems that we're getting more and more interchangeable every day.

The Breeders will be playing the Congress Theatre on July 14! No, I don't know the drill for securing tickets. Yet. I'll find out and post the info.

Today's Musty Archives Post: My mailbox is infested with earwigs. Fortunately, they haven't returned this summer, though I haven't written them off quite yet.