I know, I know, I know. Don't be mad. I've had my head under a rock, or more accurately under a bandanna, as I've been out romping about the wilds of western Washington, or something. And I didn't feel like coming back, and I don't really feel like being back. And I don't have much to say.

I bought a domain. scatterbrained.org. Nothing's there yet, but it will be soon. I'm starting to think this whole halfhearted-anonymity thing is pretty dumb. I mean, right now I have two diaries: this one, where I let myself write whatever I want, and the one I let my family read, which I keep all nice and cheery and wholesome.

Isn't that kind of lame? I mean, it feels like lying. Even if it is just lies of omission.

So we'll see what happens. I may end up with my diary and my website actually in the same place for once. Imagine that.

Right now I'm about 100 pages into Infinite Jest (which is oh so wonderful... oh my goodness, tennis tennis tennis and David Foster Wallace weirdness), and I'm full of Chinese food. I was going to say "my tummy is full of Chinese food," but then I remembered that Kingsley Amis says in The King's English that it's utterly repellent for anyone over the age of eight to use the word "tummy." Curtis and I came up with some alternate term for tummy the other night, but true to my nature, I've forgotten it. It was cute, though. I'm sure Kingsley Amis would disapprove.

I learned to play ping-pong. I told my dad, and he said, "It's not like there's really anything to learn, is there?" but for me there was, since I'd never played before. It was lots of fun. My hips aren't even sore anymore from all that side-to-side lunging.

I watched really trashy TV today. Half an episode of Ricki Lake, parts of women's bowling and billiards matches (with my brother, though, so that doesn't really count), and part of Primetime. I don't know what came over me. The worst part is that I'm pretty sure I'd actually seen that episode of Ricki before. God, TV is so bad. Watching it today made me really glad I can't watch it at home anymore.

I guess my Discman is broken. It wouldn't work on the plane, even when I replaced the newish batteries with brand-new ones. So I had to go hours and hours with a terrible unfulfilled urge to listen to "I Go Like the Raven" by Dave Carter and Tracy Grammer. I listened to it twice today, though, so I think I'll be okay.

Tomorrow I think Dad and I are going to go see The Score. I can't miss an Edward Norton movie. I just can't.