Disappearing reappearing ink

I find it almost impossible to not scratch my eyes when they itch or anything else, for that matter, but eyes seem to be the worst. I think it may be due to their normal situation of wetness that makes the itchy dryness that much worse to endure. There's nothing for it in the end, I suppose - only with time unscratching will it ever go away.

I am highly distracted at this moment by the manner in which my blogger screen is functioning. When I hit backspace (which is a frequent occurrence, given the astronomical number of typos I generally make) the letters I am attempting to delete are not disappearing right away. They remain for a full second at least which may not sound like much time, but is an eternity in the world of instantaneous computer reaction. The odd thing is if I am quick enough to correct my mistakes, I appear to type over and replace the faulty letters as I go, some kind of strange insert feature almost. I am vaguely hypnotized by this and have lost any and all track of where I was headed.

I suppose I ought to say a word or two about my non-writing weekend, which was spent in surprisingly sunny and warm Virginia, playing at Fool's Fest with a pickup team that I, rather appropriately, managed to pick up with based upon two (although really only one) connection to the group. It's highly refreshing to play coed outdoors, which I have lacked since Summer League and is surely my favorite manner of playing. And tournaments, especially of this low-key nature, are the best sort of situation since everyone has a stake in winning but no one cares too much if we lose, since nothing but pride is in question. And I lost most of my ultimate pride a long time ago, or at least learned how to suppress it fairly well. I think everyone should have to play on a perpetually losing team for a year to gain a sense of perspective, and regain the enjoyment that good, pure competition brings separate from the elation of victory. I value a game well played more than anything else, although I can't deny that it's nice to put up a few more points here and there. Overall it was a good time. In my one sentence of personal recap, I actually played pretty terribly on Saturday, apparently losing my hands at some point on the ride down, but managed to redeem myself fairly well on Sunday, I believe, although I am still a stranger to the elusive layout-D. Someday the moment will be ripe and I will seize upon it like a bee in a glass of lemonade. Or me upon a bag of apricots.

Apparently I'm hungry and thirsty. Ultimate weekends are the most exhausting kind I've ever found, and I usually take a few days to get fully back on my feet. So Mondays, like today, I sit in a wretched torpor trying to accomplish what monstrosities I meant to undertake over the weekend but didn't, and regret my decision to sleep or party or watch TV instead of starting in on the two longest assignments of the year. The good news is that I decided several years ago to privilege health and happiness over studying, so I fully intend to find myself curled up in bed happily snoring within the hour. Homework can wait indefinitely. My dreams cannot.