Dad invited me out to breakfast with him, so I dressed and cleaned up faster than I had all week. Once we got there though, I realized I needed to drain the lizard REAL bad. Trouble is, this particular eatery only has bathrooms large enough for one - or in this case, a father-son team. After five minutes, I figured 'boys will be boys.' After ten minutes, I realized I could have ducked into the women's room and done my business and no one would have seen. After fifteen minutes, I knew I would have to say SOMETHING when they finally came out. I thought about referencing a waterpark, but even the kids get tired of those after a couple hours. Instead I said "So, how was Narnia?" which may have been lost on the parent but I don't care, I was risking a bladder infection or something. I was strongly reminded of Dave Barry's article on potty training, which goes something like:

"I used to take my son into public restrooms, and it was no big deal. But girls need a place to sit, and the typical men's room has no surface I want my daughter to come into contact with, including the ceiling. Because of this nation's strict and, in my opinion, unconstitutional flamethrower-control laws, I don't have (the ideal sterilization option). Instead, I have to painstakingly construct, using 200 linear feet of toilet paper, an elaborate protective seating barrier for my daughter. When I'm done, I put her on the seat, where she produces, after a dramatic pause sometimes lasting 10 minutes, a total of four peepee molecules. Which I am of course required to be joyful about."

I appear to be driving home from somewhere late at night... possibly our lakeside cottage. Somehow I know the total drive is an hour or less. As I'm rounding the curve, I spot a small yet brightly-lit casino right next to the road. I park nearby, not entirely sure where I'm supposed to park, and approach the entrance. Out front, there are two hot chicks passing out flyers from a cheap folding table. I chat them up a bit, and they go into their spiel about how tonight you get five dollars worth of tokens just for walking in, and other such things. I look to the left and notice a row of slot machines set up right at the edge of the property, which is marked by a paved lot, pretty much.

One machine catches my eye seems very easy to win, as there are only three reels, and only three possible colors: red, yellow or green.The machine has two screens, and it appears you start with the horizontal reel on the lower screen, and once you match something, you switch to the upper screen where you see a cartoony boxer. You compare the results of your next spin on this vertical reel to theirs, and if you win some kind of multiplier or other bonus is activated and you keep going.

It seems the key to winning the most is not by putting the most allowed number of coins in at once, it's putting in single coins quickly after you lose to avoid losing momentum. Most amusing is that apparently when you get to the 'final boss' his reel spins as normal, but when it stops, all three symbols are of his own face. The only way to beat him is to get red, yellow, green - just like a stoplight. Somehow I learn all this while watching the machine's autoplay or 'attract mode' for about thirty seconds!

I've realized something I was dimly aware of for a while. As long as I stay in bed (regardless of whether I'm about to sleep or have already slept) I don't have the urge (or desire... not sure which word fits best) to play vidjamagames. It's easy enough to figure out WHY this is: my dreams might not outweigh videogames in terms of sheer entertainment value, but the fact my subconscious generates such vivid and crazy scenarios on a regular basis is a source of endless wonderment. Now, it's just a matter of using this to my advantage...

Rather unsettling series of dreams. A recurring theme was being chased (or rather, haunted) by a tough-guy motorcyclist. He behaved like Freddy or Jason, combining ghostly powers with surprising strength and endurance. The weird thing was, he was constantly being dogged by his old goth-ish girlfriend, who was responsible for killing him in the first place. Neither of them really had any respect or regard for the sanctity of human life, but at least the girl had a choice, making her far worse. He was apparently powerless against her, and she enjoyed 'killing' him over and over again whenever she could get close enough to him. She also liked playing the role of damsel in distress to attract naive saps like myself. At one point, I 'subdued' him with her help, temporarily restoring his humanity. We all sat together on the edge of a roof of a rather tall building. Just when it seemed they had kissed and made up, she wrapped her arm around his back... and shoved him right off.

Before I knew it, she had scooted right next to me, and she had her arm around me as well. This time, I was ready. Before I knew it, we were both falling. She said "I hope you know how to fly." I activated my jet boots. Turns out she had jet boots of her own. Then she pulled out two big laser-rings, just like in Tron. I followed suit. None were visible on our bodies beforehand, so I figure it was Hammerspace. Before we could properly go at it, though, I woke up.

Today is Christmas Eve Eve! I had a lot of fun saying that.

Dreamed I was playing an alternate version of Eternal Ring (PS2). I felt the awkwardness of circle-strafing around the monster. It was a boss of some sort, and I could see its lifebar. It appeared to be light-element, making my strongest spell useless (for some reason I couldn't change my equipment rings in the middle of a fight) and the rest were the 'floating bomb' type. I didn't even have the old standby, the basic Fire Ball. My weapon was different too... I had a non-magical bow and arrow which didn't seem to hurt it at all and... was I female? That's about as alternate as it gets, I suppose.

I downloaded another mumorpurger, this time at Luke's request. Seems like a watered-down version of WoW with anime-inspired graphics, but you can't fault free. It's called Asda Story. Why? Who knows. We liken it to the title of a soap opera: "As the world turns, as the turd whirls, Asda Story unfolds..." It took me a while to determine the right punny name for my character, but I figure I'll aim toward the Ballista user, which is like the crossbow but it's so big it requires a tripod.

Found a little artsy game called The Sense of Connectedness. You control the path electric pulses take as they travel through a brain, and the background noise (I wouldn't call it music) is procedurally generated based on the nodes touched, which occurs at a steady tempo. You progress by first discovering, then lighting up various portions of the brain using pulses. Pulses become charged as they pass through a certain corner of the brain, but getting the right path is hard as they disappear if they pass over a node it touched since being spawned from the center.

I've started practicing the piano again. I was trying random chords and notes based on the "Call Lee Free!" slogan, and I somehow segued into the owl's theme from Majora's Mask. I am now determined to learn how to play more than the first eight bars... but I still need to go work out and follow up on job apps at the mall. Stuff to DOOOO.

In other news, there's nothing quite like the sight of a pristine tub of margarine. It's also a spot-on depiction of how far your belly will stick out if you eat it all at once.

 Ugh. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I really need to reactivate the timer on my television so that it turns itself on for about twenty minutes each morning. Hopefully, that will divert my attention toward whatever's on the screen (ideally, a loud music video from VH1) instead of whatever I was just dreaming about. I mean sleeping in isn't so devestating when you're unemployed, but I still got stuff to DOOOO.

In other news, a couple weeks ago I picked up this game called Vindictus, and I invited Luke to try it out for himself, and now we're both hooked. It's a MMORPG... with a physics-based combat engine. You can pretty much get a weapon proficiency in Humanoid (Medium)!

Mom just got super-pissed at Dad because she didn't belive that whatever Xmas card stuff Dad was working on and preparing to print out wasn't relevant to whatever Mom wanted to discuss alongside him on the living room couch. Mom's ready to go somewhere RIGHT NOW and Dad has to go somewhere else in about an hour... I dunno. It's like I'm watching my own life from the outside.