Classes have been cancelled for the rest of the week and everyone is pretty happy right now. Hopefully we won't get too much of hurricane Ivan coming though town, but if we do, there's all sorts of places to go around school to hide from the thing. Yesterday was beautiful, I guess the calm before the storm. It's overcast at the moment and the sky is ominous. I plan on playing Tales of Symphonia all day; perhaps if I get to the second disc (finally) that will make the hurricane pass over our little town of Auburn.

So if you don't know, I'm a Hall Director of one of the dorms at Auburn University. It's often an odd mix of compleate goofiness and frustration. The frustration comes from the fact that I'm 24 and I continually have to remind myself that the really cute girls in the building, well they are 18. Six years isn't that big of a deal later on in life, but for some reason it seems like a huge time span at the moment. The goofiness is way, way better. Since I'm basically a big kid I relate to everyone really well, especially when it comes down to video games...

We were all pretty bored last night and I brought the ol' gamecube into the lobby to play Mario Party with three other residents of the building. It's a great game because people who are gamers and people who don't know where the "z" button is can all get together and have some fun. As we played, the night took on a game show environment. At first, we all took characters from the game, and whenever one of them said something, we had to use our "funny-voice" to explain the rules of the game and whatnot. (I was stuck with being Toad...who ended sounding like a Munchkin with a Southern Accent).

After a while, people would pass through the lobby, stop and look at what we were doing. But then, rather then continue on with their evening, they would find a seat on one of the many couches and watch us play Mario Party. After about seven turns of the game, there were around fifteen people in the lobby all cheering on a particular player. One of the big guys even chipped in by becoming the voice of Bowser-he did a fine job, too.

People talked about a lot of different gaming subjects. One resident started comparing Fusion Frenzy to the Mario Party series-only to get lambasted by the supporters of Mario. Who knew there were that many Mario supporters in college? One of the girls playing asked about the sex of Yoshi. I stand firm on Yoshi being male, but androgynous. He can't reproduce, but he is still a he. The night went on, we played, people cheered, and it gave Saturday evening an unexpected turn for the ridiculous.-especially for a bunch of 18 year olds who normally just want to head out with their fake i.d.'s and get drunk.

And now it's Sunday and people keep asking me about what game we'll play tonite. I think I created a monster-especially since I won't be able to finish Tales of Symphonia if the cube is in the lobby being used.

Eight o'clock in the morning, Alabama time. In a bit, I've got to head up to Auburn Junior High to do my practicum. It's kind of like an Internship (you know, free labor in exchange for work experience), except it is only for eight hours a week. I'm working with some students that are having really hard lives. Some students have lost hope, some seem to have never had a chance from the get go. School Counselor's are supposed to work with them and help them realize what kind of potential they have. The hard part is that some of the students may never reach their highest level of ability. They just don't care...and that's one thing you can't teach: caring.

Oh: and the other day we had to do these interviews with girls for the soccer team. The girls are called "Soccer Sweethearts" and I'm not really sure what purpose they serve, but it's always nice to have people at the games. The interviews are pretty formal; anyone who has ever gone through some type of fraternity or sorority "rush" knows what I'm talking about. Well, we just finished practice and were to head over to do the interviews. The coach told us to go and change for the meeting. I thought he meant just clean up and head over. But no, he meant for us to get all dressed up in "snappy-casual" attire for the session. So how do I dress? Jeans and a t-shirt. I guess I went for comfort and all I got were dirty looks that said, "I can't believe he's dressed like that." I also cut myself shaving and had some toilet paper on my face-that probably didn't bode well either. Ah, such is life.

So we did it old old school tonite. Rather then play some video games, watch movies, or just vegitate in front of the television, four other people gathered in my room and we read to one another. It was very dead poets society like, except way way scarier. We read from this book called "Danny's Bed," a true story about a haunted home in Savannah, Georgia. We had all the lights off except for this camping lantern that I own. Every couple of pages we would pass the book back and forth and read it.

I did put some spooky Pink Floyd music in the background to add a audible (besides our voices) element. Overall, everyone played along really well and got into the story. It was probably the first time in a long while (maybe even middle school?) where I had someone read to me. There were plenty of times where I was scared crapless just thinking about the family living in that haunted house.

Overall, we had a blast. We're reading a chapter a night, so tommorrow will be full of ghosts and goblins too.

Oh yeah...if you happen to read my journal, don't be affraid to post a small comment or two. I'd love to hear what ya'll think about my little anecdotes and quips.

Topic One

Kind of suprised at myself. For the first time yesterday I watched Resident Evil. The movie was actually pretty good-maybe it was more good because I know so much about Umbrella and Racoon City. Eitherway, I'm pretty excited about the new movie coming out on Friday. A whole bunch of people from the building are going to go see it. We are all joking about making it totally nerdular and dressing up as zombies. We won't though. I only dress up like a zombie for my Tuesday morning classes.

Topic Two

Played some more dodgeball last night. That game is so much fun. We go out around 11:00 at night and play for a little over an hour. Yesterday, while we were playing, a cop walked by on his patrol. He said, "Isn't there anything better that you can do?" (or some grammatical mishmash like that) to which I said, "Well, we could be out doing worse things." He smiled and said, "Ya'll don't break anything." I'm not sure if he was talking about our bones and faces or the windows on the adjacent buildings.

Topic Three

Women/girls/females are more frustrating then the third level of Ikaruga. I should forgo them completely, but I can't. What is worse: being alone and frustrated or giving up on the search for that good one?

I love games. Always have, always will. Back a long time ago when my folks lived in Ohio, I remember going down the street to hang out with this kid named Seth who had a NES. We would play soccer in his front yard, but after a while we would get tired, go inside and play kung-fu. Then the day came and I got an Atari 7800. Food Fight, Xevious, Pole Position II, Joust-all these great games that I hold near and dear to my heart. Plus we could pick up all the 2600 games for cheap. If anyone remember River Raid, that game is such a classic to me. I loved the tension of almost running out of fuel and narrowly sliding through the canyons. It had a brilliant design.

Then there was a long pause between the 7800 and my next system. Perhaps it was because my parents didn't think games were a great way to spend money or perhaps it was because they didn't want me inside all day. Whatever the case, my second system was an Atari Lynx. Blue Lightning was incredible and so was the Four-Game version of California games. I still can remember when you scored 202 points on BMX, you were titled "female word for a dog-en." There was also a cool little easter egg in the game on surfing where, if you scored enough points and then hit the option one button, you could fall on the seagull.

All the while between the 7800 and the Lynx I played games at my friends houses. Sometimes I would feel bad-you know, going over there to hang out with them (but also because I loved playing video games). The Super Nintendo has so many incredible games on it, we would have sleep overs and play until our eyes were blood shot and our fingers had early versions of carpell tunnel.

Now I am a gamecube and GBA owner. I actually find myself playing the GBA as much (if not a bit more then the cube). I like the idea of games you can pick up and put down within a five minutes span. Of course, when I know I've got a chunk of time on my hands, give me an RPG and I'm happy. Of course, the way I play (infrequently) I imagine it is going to take me a pretty long time to finish Tales of Symphonia. That's okay though, I want to enjoy every bit and not rush.

Games are great. I think they are better then television but not as good as books. They can waste time and they can also fill time with great memories. Anywone who plays Mario Kart with three other people will know what I'm talking about. Anyway, just thought I would write by gamers autobiography. I'm sure anyone else who reads this has similar stories. I'd love to hear them.

It's 2:14 in the morning and I just got back from the 10:30 "meeting." This is an R-rated journal entry, so those with innocent eyes, please "x" out and read something else.

So here's what happens: we show up and the coach-player says, "let's go for a run." And about thirty guys are running down the road in the dark as cars are whushing by as. After about half a mile, we stop and he says, "drink this." And laid out on a picnic table are 12 cups of beer. All of us drink the beer and kind of look at each other. Then we start running again. About half a mile later we stop at the next check point and repreat the process from the first check point. This goes on and on and on for every half mile for about three miles. Four the the guys who were running and consuming got sick. And by sick, I mean they threw up. I was able to handle myself better due to a full stomach and the fact that I faked drinking one of the times. It got bad though, when one of the players stated that we couldn't throw our drinks away, but we had to give it to them for them to throw it away. If the drink at hand was to heavy, it would be refilled to the top-much moaning and groaning would occur.

At the end of the run though, was the pay off. We are all huffing and puffing and the coach-player guy opens this box and hands us all these super sweet Auburn Warm up Jackets. I would imagine they cost about 100 dollars each and we didn't have to pay for 'em at all. I wore mine for the rest of the night. As a matter of fact, I just removed it.

If there is a moral of the story, I'll be durned to know what it is. It's taking me forever to write this and I know that I've got to use spell check several times over to make sure that all the words make some semblence of sense. Overall, a fun experience. I wouldn't wish it apon anyone, but if one happened to be stuck in the same situation, fret not because three miles of running interspersed with a whole bunch of consumation isn't as bad as it seems. As long as your stomach is full and you can fake 'em out here and there.

So as I was writing my first journal entry, two friends walk into my room. One is dressed like a twinkie and the other is dressed in a costume that has a man riding a bull. I immediately picked up my guitar and played, "Horse with no Name" (being that that is one of the only songs I know on the ole guitar). Afterwards we all laughed until I fell on the floor in side splitting fashion. Such is the greatness of being a Hall Director, you never know what you will see or do.

And speaking of doing, we had a really bad thunderstorm last night. A girl in the building (who is cute as all get out) came into the room and told me to go slip and sliding with her and a bunch of her friends. So me and a couple other guys go out to the intramural field, unroll a fiffy foot long tarp and covered it in bubble bath stuff. I got soap in my contacts, but it didn't matter.

Gina, the R.A. told me that when I laugh, my whole body shakes. I think that's a pretty nice compliment. I play hard and I laugh hard.

Tonight at 10:30 I'm off to Club Soccer "practice." It's going to be kind of odd because I don't think it's going to be practice but some kind of initation onto the team. The email stated, "Be outside the Student Act. Wear running shoes." Part of me is pretty excited since I love doing goofy things. Another part of me is a bit apprehensive since I'm in Graduate School and I have a feeling that a bunch of underclassman are going to make us "newbies" go through some type of hazing process.

I've been there and done that with fraternity stuff and I don't particularly need to do it again. Alas, as a soccer player, what can you expect when they want to do all the things I've done when I was in undergrad. I made the freshmen run through the fountain and dress all silly in the dining hall. Either way, it's all in good fun.