To begin with, my last post was on 4 May 2002, a mere five days before my birthday. I am now eighteen. (Yay.) If I may be perfectly frank, this feels just the same as being seventeen, but now I'm forced to sign up for "Selective Service" (not so bloody "selective" if it's mandatory, is it?) within six months of my DOB or I'm SOL. (Translation: the Jolly Good Ol' Government will have a warrant out for my arrest, if what my maternal [albeit occasionally irresponsible and irrational] figure told me is true.) So, that's the first bit of good news. On a somewhat lighter (shade of black) note, I am now legally able to purchase the following products: cigarettes (yum, carcinogens: kid-tested, mother-approved!), lottery tickets (throw your well-earned dough away for the sake of hopelessly unbeatable odds [one has a better chance of being smote by God] and a not-at-all-likely-but-what-the-hell go at a whole gob of other morons' money - who wouldn't be tempted?), and pornography (which, if one is so lasciviously inclined, is quite easily obtained even by those not belonging to the "elite" group known as the Legal [or so I'm told]), among other trivial "privileges" bestowed upon those poor souls who have been waiting seventeen years for the moment at which they are officially considered adults. (Why, I'm not sure. The so-called "freedom" [a flurry of quotation marks today - the sarcastometer must be going through the bleedin' roof] enjoyed by non-minors comes at a high price: now [and this is a terrifying thought, I realise], you are responsible for your own actions. No Mumsy or Dada to take the blame any longer. Only you, and the Government [note the capital letter, reserved for only the most inscrutable of institutions], which is invariably either asking for money or pointing a finger at you. But I digress. Invariably.)

But, believe it or not, I'm not bitter. No, really. I'm mostly apathetic and simply enjoy sounding bitter about certain things. Most of the phenomena I've mentioned above do not play into my daily thoughts at all, much less into prolonged rants such as the one above. Actually, my life is rather pleasant at the moment, if I do say so myself. (And I always do.) Of course, the little glowing crimson numbers on my alarm clock (that acme of abhorrence that I must eventually, inexorably, obey) just ticked to 4:35 ante meridiem, so I'm not exactly what one would call lucid at the moment. (Although I feel fine, so who knows [what lurks in the hearts of men]? [The Shadow knows...]).

Well, beyond the fact that I'm now eighteen (*disenchanted cheer*), what else has happened in my life since May, you ask? (You don't ask? Too bad.) Too much, to be honest. A condensed version is as follows: survived the last month of high school (barely), graduated (thankfully - AP Economics was still looking a bit iffy, and I wasn't certain a diploma truly waited for me), took care of a couple matters still unresolved as of the end of school, then packed a bag and moved to sunny Costa Mesa for the summer. (My grandmother, bless her soul, lives down here, and has graciously allowed not only me but my nerdy-to-the-point-of-being-cool cousin Peter, who is currently attending summer school at UCI and working at a local movie theatre, to stay in her spacious house and eat her food.)

I am looking for work here, as there are many local businesses within walking (or biking, if I need to get there in a hurry) distance. Two of the more promising prospects are Cold Stone Creamery (delicious ice cream and cute clientele [sorry ladies, but although I've managed to almost completely repress them in polite society, I am not without my hormonal urges] make this a delightful possibility) and Virgin Megastore (an amazing place, bestowed with an extensive music selection, as well as a good-sized book section and movies galore), but I'm willing to take just about anything I find. (Except fast food. I shall never, ever, work for a fast food restaurant, for both ethical and hygenic reasons.) I would prefer working in a large bookstore chain, such as Borders or Barnes & Noble (which are across the street from one another, next to Virgin and an Edwards Cinema, and not too far from Cold Stone and a bargain bookstore in this veritable Valhalla of mine), if I can manage it.

It is now almost 5:00 in the wee hours, so I must be signing off soon (it's not as if anyone is actually going to read all of this drivel anyway, so I'm not sure why I keep writing), but allow me to share one more tidbit with you about my life down here in Costa Mesa: I am, always have been, and always shall be, absolutely horrible with money. Call me weak (hell, I'll agree), but I simply cannot resist its call to spend. Spend on Mocha Freezes (excellent) and French sodas (I recommend Irish Creme or Creme de Menthe, personally) at Borders; spend on mountains of ice cream (always the same: a large half-Strawberry, half-Banana with fresh strawberries, bananas, and marshmallows) at Cold Stone; spend on CD after CD at Virgin (six in less than a week, four in one day). Spend, spend, spend. It's pathetic! I should simply stop carrying my wallet around. But I can't bring myself to do it. I'll only learn when my pockets are completely empty and I am consumed with despair. (I never was a fast learner when it was important.)

Even though I probably shouldn't have bought any of them, much less six, let me tell you upon which compact discs I blew my wad (don't get any ignoble ideas, you gutter-minded filth; I mean money):

• lovehatetragedy - Papa Roach. I love this album! Their single on it, "She Loves Me Not," is addictive, and the rest of the songs quickly grew on me. Much, much different from their older, darker stuff, but certainly as amazing, if not better, as I actually like nearly every song on the disc. (Nearly impossible.)
• Start Static - Sugarcult. All I knew about the band when I bought this was that "Bouncing Off The Walls" was one of the catchiest songs I have ever heard. In other words, I bought the CD blind (so to speak), but definitely was not disappointed. I very much enjoy about half of this 11-track album, which is better than the average number of three or four. And those five I like are incredible, especially "Hate Every Beautiful Day," a haunting melody I won't soon forget.
• Free All Angels - Ash. I hadn't even heard of Ash before I went into Virgin last night (it's 5 a.m., remember?) and happened to hear a few of their songs on one of the store's listening columns. Apparently, this is the #1 album in the United Kingdom at the moment, and I can believe it. Some of their songs are stirring, but still mellow and well-suited for a calm moment. Nothing like Papa Roach's hook-laden rollercoaster rides or Sugarcult's sudden intensity, but still very, very good in its own right. I'll have a better chance to listen to it later today, I hope.
• Atticus - Various. This compilation album (read: inexpensive) features previously unreleased songs by Blink-182 and New Found Glory, among others. Excellent CD; I highly recommend it to anyone who likes that sort of music.
• Punk-O-Rama Volume 7 - Various. An even less expensive compilation album, this release from Epitaph Records includes songs from Bad Religion, Pennywise, Millencolin, and other great bands, most of whom I've found I enjoy.
• Vans Warped Tour 2002 Compilation - Various. For a two-CD, 50-song set, $5.49 was a steal. (God bless Virgin Megastore.) This has some awesome tunes from the likes of the Bouncing Souls, NOFX, Midtown, Good Charlotte, The Lawrence Arms, Thursday, and others. A great deal, and well worth the price. (One thing that makes me wonder is why one of the largest and most prestigious headliners, Bad Religion, doesn't make an appearance. C'est la vie. I have their most recent album anyway.)

Well, I'm sure that's more than enough for even the most die-hard of Eric aficionados, so I now bid you all farewell. Adieu!

p.s. I'm learning Latin, just finished an excellent (although bizarre) novel by Robert Heinlein (The Cat Who Walks Through Walls), and plan to read next a book on the conjugation of regular and irregular verbs in English, and the impact that syntax and people's ability to learn it instinctively have on society (only $5 at Barnes & Noble - I wonder why people didn't snap it up at that price?). (Yes, I realise that I am an incurable dork. Thank you for noticing.)

p.p.s. I watched Minority Report for the second time yesterday and have now confirmed that it is one of the greatest films I have ever seen, combining effortlessly in-your-face action, stunning special effects, stirring drama, and heart-wrenching plot twists to create an amazing, flawless amalgam of incredible acting and epic directing. Watch it today!

[Exit Orpheum.]