My favorite letters were q, v, x, z. My favorite number was 5, then 3, then 9. And then later I did not have any favorite letters or numbers or colors

It is amazing, what three hours of determination, and the internet, can do for you.

When I got back to Orlando last weekend, I was determined to begin really living here, and so I answered posts, I shot communiques to various anonymous people.

A week later, my potentials are:

1. Viewer & discusser of new and old films. In a group of (4) superpretentious people, which wouldn't necessarily be bad at all. I suggested "Withnail & I" for the first one, because Adam said I have to see it, even though I have no idea what it is, but I think it might be a film.

2. Canoer, kayaker, hiker. Just generally doing outdoor & wilderness type activities with a gay nudist and his partner, who prefer to do these things while being very naked, but who have promised to only invite me along if it is the run-of-the-mill hiking, canoeing, etc, or at least an activity that a fully-clothed celibate prude can deal with.

3. Singer in a rock'n'f'n'roll band. I have talked with Sean on the phone, and he's a very cool guy. He says the stuff so far sounds a little Radiohead, a little postrock. I said I'm not too familiar with it, but I'll improvise. This also means I need to start creating lyrics that don't suck. Like "Maggie May".

4. Soccer player (after a 7 or 8 year hiatus). David, who is a very very perverted dude from my work, and from Glasgow, who reminds me of someone from Trainspotting or Mogwai, but who would not like either, but who might like Braveheart, or might not, says his team might need a player. I said that I was a hack who had a reputation for playing very rough, as if I was angry about something. He said that he was the skilled footballer who all the rough kids were chopping down during a cut towards the goal. In my day, I did score three or four goals in a four-month span of playing forward. I remember everyone being very excited for me, because we had all been on teams together for years, and I had never scored goals because I was always a fullback. Anyway, David said that he'd mention it to his team, and then he told a story about how his friend was fucking this lass in the corner of a church once, back in Glasgow, and she was telling David's friend how much she was into David while they were doing this. And she would say "Do you think you could talk to David for me?" David's friend was determined to stay focused, but managed to grunt a "sure thing". I like how Scottish accents always trail upward in pitch towards the end of their sentences, even when they're not asking questions. Even when they are saying something matter-of-factly.

5. Hockey player. It's been 6 or 7 years since I played hockey consistently. I will need to buy all new equipment. Please note, there is no "Great Skate" in Florida. Fogdog, here I come.

6. Mysterious Observer of Indie Rock Shows. Do you know how amazed I was to see the upcoming concert listings last night? Let's get this one out of the way, first. I flipped through the shows for Friday - nothing. Saturday - nothing. Sunday - .... Interpol?! I queued-up Ticketmaster ..... I crossed my fingers..... .... SCORE! I am seeing Interpol tomorrow, where 16 hours ago, I was not. In addition, we have The Album Leaf on Monday, The French Kicks and Calla on Wednesday, VHS or Beta on Thursday, Zoso (Zeppelin tribute) next Saturday, Trail of Dead in two Saturdays. Are you kidding, Orlando?

7. Laundryer. This is a mundane thing that simply must happen.

8. There is no number eight.