I imagined myself living in New York in some sort of open, large but sparse studio apartment with a lot of blond wood and a futon on the floor and a bubbling samovar of tea in the background and a big beard - living alone but with my beard - and doing theater. That's what I thought my life would be.

I used to write things for friends. There was this girl I had a crush on, and she had a teacher she didn't like at school. I had a real crush on her, so almost every day I would write her a little short story where she would kill him in a different way.

Attack life, it's going to kill you anyway.

Cynicism masquerades as wisdom, but it is the farthest thing from it. Because cynics don’t learn anything. Because cynicism is a self-imposed blindness, a rejection of the world because we are afraid it will hurt us or disappoint us.

Yesterday in a 25 to 24 vote, Republicans welcomed back Lott back into their leadership and named him minority whip. That is great for Trent. They say minority whip is a stepping stone to Grand Wizard.

I may be just an empty flesh terminal reliant on technology for all my ideas, memories and relationships, but I am confident that all of that everything that makes me a unique human being is still out there somewhere, safe in a theoretical storage space owned by giant, multinational corporations.

If I had one wish, it would be for self-drying pants. Wait -- no! Unlimited wishes! How do I return these stupid pants?!