Another kind of party

It's been six hours and they're still at it. At this moment, there are five laptops and three desktops going at the same time in our house, all connected to our wireless network. Eight grown men who barely know each other have been reduced into intent silence and/or vague incoherence, speaking in male-bonding sub-phrases only geek gamers understand. As far as I'm concerned, it's a whole other language. A whole other dimension of existence. In the games they play, people bleed *purple* blood. I rest my case. It's an aura of sublime techdom I'm not even going to attempt to penetrate. Yes, we're having a LAN party; no, I take that back- Jude's having a LAN party. I could only take the foreign vocabulary and generally rather odd vibe for about 20 minutes before scratching the wall for some female company. ANY female company.

Thank god for Melanie and Iris. And for the laconic charm of a Dr.-Zhivago-watching-dog-loving John Cusack. On any other day, I would have hated spending $7 watching him squander his lovely talent on an otherwise lacklustre excuse of a romantic comedy. But tonight, he was my knight in shining armor, saving me from a fate worse than drinking bad coffee on a frigid winter's day. Diane Lane seemed even more luminous than usual (when I'm in my forties, I want to look just like her, crow's feet and all- talk about aging gracefully), and Christopher Plummer was just smashing reciting Yeats.

Ok, it's close to 2am, and I think people are about ready to go. The three packets of chips are almost gone (extra large Cheesy Cheddar, BBQ, and Vinegar & Onion), and I think the caffeine/ sugar from all that diet Pepsi is finally wearing off. It seems to take very little in terms of food to sustain these guys. Take it from me- sugar and MSG.

Guys, when I find another chick-flick with John Cusack in it to spend $7 on, please do come again. Either that or someone's going to have to teach me how to get that vigilante to spurt purple blood...