It's 11 P.M. and your drink is getting warm. The ice that once dominated the cup has seemingly vanished and your drink is completely diluted. The restaurant has a very warm feel to it; there are shades of red and orange lights illuminating paintings and murals. There's a piano player toward the back making sweet love to his instrument, the result being a soft, sincere melody birthed from the piano itself. You glance at your watch aimlessly, then look to your plate which has been carefully cleaned, except for the cauliflower. You never knew what it tasted like an you weren't in the mood to find out. The bill was laid strategically in front of the plate so when you glance at the empty plates you're reminded to pay as well, but you somehow avoid the gimmick this time. Your head slowly gravitates toward the window where cars pass up and down the street, each with their own agenda. You become interested, hoping that you'll recognize one of these cars and its occupants. Your train of thought is suddenly come to a stop when you notice a woman adjusting herself in the seat next to you. She's your ex-wife, but you've still managed to maintain a great friendship. You've known her since middle school and have been friends since the day you met her in your advisory class.

"You haven't seen the kids for a while," she says. "They miss you."

"I miss them too. I've been calling everyday, but I've been really busy the past month. Do you want me to take them for the weekend, or would it be better to take them the whole week?" The divorce plans required us to give the kids over to each other every other week, but I haven't been keeping my end up for a month. I love my kids. But sometimes work piles up and having them with me would just cause me to ignore them, which is the last thing I would want to do. But would not taking them at all do the same thing...?

"Could you take them for the weekend? I know you're busy next week and I wanted ask you if I could take the kids to Pennsylvania for the week anyway. There's an amusement park I wanted to bring them to and I know Hannah Montana is playing down there and I already bought tickets so I wanted to surprise them."

"Sure. Do you want me to come down with you?"

"If you could make the space, the kids would love it." Her face brightened and a smile spread across her face.

That smile still melts your heart. Staying optimistic, you reply. "I'll see what I can do."

"Oh, thank you so much!" She gives you a peck on the cheek. You feel yourself blush. "Well, I have to go now, I don't want to keep Becky up all night with the kids. I'll call you tomorrow. Goodnight!"

She leaves in a hurry and your goodbye barely reaches her ears. You sigh heavily, wishing things could have worked out between you two. You slowly begin to leave your table when you remember that you forgot to pay for your bill. You throw some money onto the table and make your way out.

I really, really, really hate noobs.

They suck, and I let them win. I don't understand why.

Why would you play a game where you think you're gonna get by with cheap shots all goddamn day. If you don't know how to enter any of the moves, then just effing put the controller down. Please.

They ALL piss me off. And I keep letting them win. Stupid mistakes that allow the noob to think he's actually good. I'm peeved right now.

FUCK. THIS. GAME. AND. ALL. OF. THE. BITCH. ASS. PLAYERS.

Well, I haven't been here in a while. Its been....89428432 years since I've actually been on Live Journal. Well, now I'm back, I guess. Hopefully 'll be on here more. But we'll see.

I'M BACK.