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2002-06-17 - 11:15 a.m.

Living in a house that is not your own is uncomfortable. I donít know what it is. Of course it could be just me. Lotís things are. Iím housesitting for some business associates of my Auntís. And it is one sweet pad. However, Iím nervous all the time there. The urge to go through all the drawers and cabinets has been curbed, and Iím getting along well with the dogs. Most of my time however has been spent playing 4x4 EVO 2 on X Box. I tried playing Halo, but I kept getting my ass kicked. Iím much better at the racing and sport games. At which X Box excels. I think I may have to get one.

Yes, pimping the X Box.

I had a nightmare that James Lipton was chasing me through the streets of Paris in a Mini Cooper, kind of like in the trailers to the Bourne Identity, wanting to know my favorite cuss word, which for some reason I was loathe to tell him. It was freaky. I think it was all the traffic and different noises coming from the open window. Iím staying on the second floor and the house is close to a freeway, although only in distance. It takes forever to actually get to a freeway onramp from the place, a warren of high class housing with unusual street names, I think named after breeds of horses. Itís hard to say. For such prime real estate, itís certainly not quiet.

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