Electronic Yearbooks and Premature Sentimentality

I created a Facebook profile tonight. I feel very collegiate, and a little foolish. You have to admit it's kind of a dorky endeavor: I'm creating my own page on the world's biggest online yearbook, searching through other entries for faces I know, and sending them (literally!) a "will you be my friend?" notice. If they do, they come over and sign my yearbook, and then later maybe I'll go over and sign theirs. I don't know what you're supposed to do if they don't want to be your friend. I'm no fan of e-begging. Still, it's awfully nice to be connected. I threw out a bunch of wistful invitations, and by the time I finished, I had three new friends. Plus, hopefully I can catch up on all my Asbury gossip this way.

I trekked over to the Roggios to get my hair cut tonight, and Vanessa and Johnny insisted that they throw in an old video they found of me from our freshman year during spring semester Midnight Breakfast. We sat down and watched it, and I'll tell you, lads, times have changed. I'm not saying the current edition of me is necessarily much improved, but at least I've slowed down a little. White as a ghost and rail-skinny, I was bouncing around hyperactively and pounding people wildly on the back, talking a mile a minute. My favorite bit was me holding Paula in a headlock while whacking her in a friendly fashion on the top of the head. "This is Paula," I announce proudly to the camera, as if I'd invented her. Can you be nostalgic for your college years before you leave them? Because tonight, at least, I am.

Good times, good times.

Shooting script of the coffeehouse script, now re-titled "Always Got It," is up for comments. As always, I appreciate your critique. Special thanks goes to Beth, Peracchio, and Smash, who helped edit the last copy, and to Queue and Jonathan, who've thrown in their two cents as well.