When I got home last night, my roommate had company; a woman. She’s been over several times; I don’t mind her company. They’d ordered pizza, rented some videos (actual magnetic tape - so quaint!) and picked up some beer. Miller High Life, of all things. I think she has poor taste in beer. She mentioned that she wanted to get Michelob, but he insisted on the Low Life. I had just gotten some decent beer and the pizza had dead animal on it so I declined their offers. It’s always strange when he has company over. He spends most of his time on his computer in his bedroom, exiting for the occasional cigarette. I, on the other hand, have my computer in the living room, next to the television and stereo. Most nights, when I return from work, I turn on the idiot box for the usual diet of war documentaries, MASH, and Daria while multi-tasking with several chat clients on my computer and pounding bottles of Newcastle. I’m alone with my misery and addictions. I have nowhere else to hide. I have a radio in my bedroom, but I’m not even sure if it works anymore. It’s a portable stereo that my mother bought for my 18th birthday. As much as I’d like to sit in my dark corner and mope, I’m basically stuck in the oh-so-cheerful company of others. It could be worse, I suppose. They could be actually cheerful or want to watch Aqua Teen Hunger Force or something miserable like that. She notices a CD that my company from a few nights ago had brought out; a Canadian noise compilation. She asks if there is any way she can take it off my hands. I simply give it to her; I haven’t been listening to as much music as I used to and I’d maybe played that CD two or three times. That being settled, they put in a Mickey Rourke film called Angel Heart. It didn’t sound familiar but as it came on I realized that I’d seen it before; perhaps with Jeremiah, but I don’t really remember. It has a pseudo-noir affectation that my roommate finds somehow compelling but I see as merely droll. The Jacob’s Ladder motif falls flat, in my not-so-humble opinion. After that ends, we watch Black Cat, White Cat, an interesting offering from Yugoslavia. I realize I can’t tell the difference between spoken Romany and spoken Serbo-Croatian, even though Romany is more closely related to Indian languages. The film is light-hearted but still manages to keep the hard edge of an obscure art film. I’d spent most of the time Angel Heart was on chatting with my most recent friend Michelle but since Black Cat, White Cat is subtitled I had to pay more attention to the film. I think I’d prefer it if she was watching the film with me, but she lives quite a distance off and can’t find transportation. She offers to come over tomorrow night, which isn’t as good but it will have to do. The Chinese New Year celebration is soon and she wants me to go to temple with her and her mother. It sounds fun, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to arrange it around work; besides, religion bothers me, even Buddhism. My work schedule was pushed up an hour, so I needed to sleep earlier than I’m used to. I manage to nod off around 3, an hour past my target, but I still make it to work on time and I don’t feel too tired today. We’ll see how tomorrow turns out.