Why is it that as soon as I leave a place, it gets nicer?

My elementary school burned down when I was in fourth grade. We had to finish out the year in temporary classrooms in a trailer park. The very next year, once I had moved on to middle school, they built a nice new school.

Then, the year after I left middle school, they put in basketball hoops on the blacktop behind the school. All four of my years there, all we could play was "wall ball".

Then, the year after I left high school, the school newspaper, whose cramped closet-sized office I had spent many a weekend morning in, gets a nice new office.

Now that I'm moving out of my current apartment building come July, they've decided to redecorate the lobby and recarpet the elevators. Go figure.

KTT came over and played Parappa 2 until 1 AM last night. Spring Break rules.

I don't know how to feel about the fact that my PS2 is serving remarkably well as a surrogate girlfriend, at least one day in. Ask me again on Saturday morning.