Finally, it is done. I have managed to beat Resident Evil 3: Nemesis for the Playstation, and I can return it to him tomorrow in exchange for Resident Evil Zero. I am happy to have completed the game. Days ago, I was trapped at one point in the game where I was in a restaurant, and Nemesis, the enemy of the game, found immense pleasure in raping my face with the penis that comes out of his hand.

I’m not joking. That is what happens. His goal in life is to hunt you down. When he finds you, he picks you up with his left hand, and the penis extends from his right hand. This is the point where he rapes your face, and leaves you for dead. It’s very barbaric…and irritating.

Here is a picture of the ol’ guy, fortunately for you, he is not raping the face of the player:

These games are remarkably good. I hope to get Resident Evil Zero soon from Dean, or Resident Evil: Code Veronica X from Fraser. Either way, I must satisfy my craving for these games. They are ridiculously good.

Fortunately, I have two other games to occupy my time with. I have yet to complete Everything or Nothing and Prince of Persia: Warrior Within (both for the Gamecube).

In addition to these games, Timesplitters: Future Perfect is coming out in March and I’m going to get that. And a little later in the year, the new Legend of Zelda game comes out. There are so many good games, and so little time.

I’m also hoping for some new Nintendo DS games to be released soon. Damn Nintendo…releasing too few games with their DS. Another Code (a.k.a. Another) looks interesting, however the release date is up in the air.

Yes. Tonight is the night of the Oscar party.

I haven’t seen a single movie, so really, I’m just going for the social aspect. Things may be awkward at times - note previous blog entry - but I assume the other party is mature enough to not say or do anything offensive. I know I wont. I have no reason to do so.

As for movies, I don’t know anything about the one’s up for Oscars (except for, perhaps, animated feature). I am, however, keeping an eye on two upcoming movies. The first, Sin City, is inspired by a series of graphic novels written by Frank Miller. Sin City hits theatres on April 1st, and I am going to be right there at the front of the line. It has an excellent cast of big names. Bruce Willis, Mickey Rourke, Clive Owen, Alexis Bledel, Jaime King, Jessica Alba and Brittany Murphy to name a few. It looks to be a very exciting event. I’m looking forward to it, with a mouth frothing to see a Film Noir-esque movie.

Rosario Dawson as Gail

The second movie is Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Sadly, they still haven’t updated their trailer from that musical video of the planet blowing up to the new footage (and sadly I don’t have a link to the new footage). Because of this, I won’t bother linking to the trailer. The movie hits theatres on May 6th, and features actors Martin Freeman as Arthur Dent, Mos Def as Ford Prefect, Sam Rockwell as Zaphod Beeblebrox, Zooey Deschanel as Trillian, and Alan Rickman as the voice of Marvin. This movie is based off of a radio series turned trilogy in five parts written by the late Douglas Adams. Adams also wrote the Dirk Gently novels, as well as Salmon of a Doubt and some other stuff.

Marvin the Paranoid Android

I expect great things from both of these movies, and waiting for them to arrive in theatres has made me giddy with anticipation.____

The room was a bit stifling. Not too hot, but it felt too warm for comfort. There was also a peculiar odour emitting from somewhere nearby. The cafeteria lady in front of me had apparently been so buried within the smells that she didn’t notice. I paid for my chicken burger, and strolled back to my table.

Binks was sitting there. And Andrew, and Amy. Cory and Jeff were also present. I tossed the chicken burger and mayo onto the table, and pulled out my chair to sit down. Per the usual routine, Binks began to sniff at my burger, trying to discern whether the meat contained within was edible. In a way, he behaved like a dog who was unsure if he should eat from the table, or stick to the floor.

“How much do those cost?”

Andrew knew. I don’t know why he was asking. He knew the cost of a chicken burger.

_”Two bucks.” _ He cocked one eyebrow and stared across the table.

“I remember, way back when, they used to be $1.75.”

Binkle and I looked shocked and, in unison, rhymed out, “Yeah, back in Grade 9!”

This is when a cataclysm occured. A life changing even of pure utter madness that you only expect to happen in the movies, or perhaps on a Seinfeld episode.

_”Why do you have to snap on him? He said ‘way back when’. Why do you have to be so overanalytical?” _ Amy’s words cut the air like a sawblade. We were all confused as to what exactly had triggered this sudden, irrational outburst. Perhaps there was a toxin in the air that affected the brains of women. It seemed plausible. Everyone else at the table was equipped with a penis. The toxin would have only latched to her.

But no. It wasn’t that. There wasn’t any reason. It was truly random. She was yelling at us, over the price of a chickenburger.

“What?” yelped Binks, in a state of painful confusion, _”we just pointed out that it was in Grade 9. There is a difference between ‘way back when’ and ‘Grade 9’. I was born ‘way back when’. World War One was ‘way back when’.” _ And so it continued. Words were exchanged. The senseless debacle continued.

Finally, when it had reached its climax, Amy said, “Forget it. I clearly can’t win against you guys in an arguement.” Her eyes welled up in tears and she stormed off in a fit. Andrew, her boyfriend, did not follow.

Instead, he sat there. Silently. And after a long silence, he said, _”I just wanted to point out that it was cheaper.” _ Everyone started laughing. And that seemed like the end.

Now, Binks and I are on Amy’s badside. She is telling everyone that we make her feel terrible, and that she regrets having put up with us for a year. This is the complete opposite to what she told me during the summer.

So, everything becomes like crystal now. She only became friends with us to get to Andrew or myself. When she got one of us, the charade was over. There was no need to pretend we were all good friends. It was a thing of the past. In fact, our entire friendship has been a complete and utter crock.

And all of this unveiled because of a difference of 25 cents.

Is anyone there? __ The room was cold. So cold. He didn’t know why it was, nor was he aware of how he knew it. But it was cold. It was unfriendly. The surgery tools that encircled the bed - the drills, the saws, the blades - were testament to that. They were an unfriendly greeting party for when he awoke.

Hello? Can anyone hear me? __ Suspended above in the concrete ceiling was a large fan that spun lazily. Each rotation created a dull echo in the basin that the fan was installed in. Behind it was a large spotlight, which flickered shadows across his face periodically.

What is this place? __ There was a crackle and a booming voice echoed through an intercom mounted somewhere near the ceiling of the room.

---

Excellent. You’re awake.

---

There was some rustling heard on the other end of the intercom, and some muffled speech, before the deep voice returned.

#0116, respond.

---

His body seized and a gentle paralysis coursed through him. In the cold of the room, amongst the torture toys, his body remained inert.

That’s just a little short story I’m toying with. May span into a series of short stories…I honestly don’t know.

Very amusing business, I daresay.

Yes. My school was prepped and ready to perform Arthur Miller’s, the Crucible. It bombed. It crashed. It suffered a core meltdown. It was subjected to every abuse ever and then discarded by the side of the road like an empty pack of cigarettes.

The cataclysm for the play arrived in the form of Ms. Baldasaro and Mrs. Robinson. They are the destroyers of things. They are so high on their own creativity that their degrading of the play went unnoticed for a long while. They practiced a dance number for a month or so. A dance number. In a period piece…about witch trials?

Granted, in the play, they are said to have dance. That is the key word. We are told that they dance. We are never shown. It is slowly revealed. But no…

Ms. Baldasaro approached the play with a sly grin on her face. The Crucible stood firm against her glares of anger, but she was too clever for it in the end. With a quick lunch, she stabbed through the heart of the play. The two of them unsheathed their knives and went at the play with reckless abandon. And, with tears in its eyes, Arthur Miller looked at them and said, “Et tu, Tina?” before collapsing.

And that was the end.

Nicole.

At first, I thought she was just another girl. Coincidentally, she had ended up on the same lunch as me, as well as in the same chemistry class and calculus class.

As far as I could tell, she was smart. She also seemed very quiet and reserved. Like me. It was one of the things that drew me to her, I suppose.

There was, of course, the fact that I often saw her looking over at me. Now, I can’t be sure why. Maybe she thought I looked funny in my shirt, or perhaps I had something on my face. Perhaps there was something stuck to my back, or I was hemorrhaging from the neck. I don’t know.

It doesn’t matter. Because, on one day, I saw her looking. Our eyes met, and for a brief second I felt a twinge of emotion in the back of my mind. Then, we both hurriedly looked away, as we grinned sheepishly.

This practice continued for some time, until we were glancing in sync with each other. After this, it developed to a routine where she would look, and then I would look, and vice versa.

For ages, I couldn’t figure out what this meant. Did she like me? Was she actually looking at me of her own accord, or was she looking at me because I was looking at her? I couldn’t be sure.

But, I am fascinated by her. Her smile. The way she laughs at my jokes. Her voice. The way she looks when her hair is down. It is like her face is framed in a wavy, golden halo. She has very white skin. But it isn’t pale as much as it is pure. A very flattering tone.

To be perfectly honest, I think it is safe to say that she is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

After glancing through the yearbook, I realized she had been at my school all this time. How had I missed her? Had fate chanced it so that I might walk through the halls and be inconveniently glancing the other way when she walked by? I wouldn’t have been surprised. Or maybe, I was just overlooking her on a regular basis. Who knows?

I’m sure she has a boyfriend. I would be more surprised if she didn’t than if she did. Any guy would be lucky to have her. But I’m too much of an idiot and an outcast to be able to date a girl like Nicole. I make too many nervous mistakes around her.

On Tuesday, I was walking home from school and a car pulled up beside me. In the driver’s seat was Quenby, a popular girl from my school. In the back were a few guys I knew from elementary school, but had since become detached from in all forms of communication. The window rolled down, and Quenby asked if where I lived. I told her. She asked if I wanted a ride.

I declined.

It isn’t that I didn’t like Quenby. She’s a nice girl. I just don’t usually accept charities from people. I will help them if they need it, but I don’t like imposing on others. I go out of my way to stay out of the way of others. That’s just who I am.

But today, I regretted my choice. From the passenger seat of the vehicle, Nicole leaned forward and said, ever so coolly, “Are you sure, we’re going in that direction?”

Instantly, a thousand voices screamed aloud in my head.

“You idiot! You declined already. What will you do now?” “Oh God, it’s Nicole. What do I do?” “She looks really pretty right now.” “Why are they offering me a ride?” “Did my heart just explode in my chest?” I felt nervous. What should I say? Should I now agree to the ride after seeing Nicole and make myself emotionally transparent? Or should I decline and have none be the wiser.

I declined again. And they drove off.

I regretted it.

I would have rather made myself transparent. Walking home in the cold, contemplating what would have happened if I had got in the car wasn’t nearly punishment enough for my stupidity.

So, fate decided to torture me the next day, where I overheard Quenby and Nicole discussing dates for semi-formal. It wasn’t surprising to hear Nicole had someone to go with”¦but until then, I was able to pretend she was available.

But who am I fooling? Not you. Certainly not me. Nicole and I are on two different social levels. She’s divine while I am unclean. Is it possible to change my social standing? It is probably as likely as an untouchable making his or her way to the pinnacle of the caste system.

No. I’m stuck here. And Nicole is up there. And there is no ladder big enough to span the gap between us.