Nothing.

I've come to realize, though I still post something on here everyday, I feel like I've not written anything of depth or anything personal in a while. I know there's one thing that I specifically avoided discussing, which was the time spent with that boy Rob (which I didn't talk about because I assumed he read this blog on occasion). Those of you in-the-know have heard by now what all happened with Rob, which wasn't so much funny as it was sad. I thought, at first, that having to reject him would mean that I'd get an opportunity to right the wrongs of the people who have rejected me badly, but I didn't get a chance to do that. My rejection of Rob was only as tactful as it needed to be - and it had nothing to do with him being similar to me. He was nothing like me at all.

If there's an essay there, I haven't really found it yet.

As for updates on my apartment life, I've had no real guests other than Rob and Larry. I don't usually get in to my apartment until late at night most days. It's not unpacked, and I spend my time in it watching those "Alias" DVDs, which are really good and seem to take forever to get through.

Vic and Kacoon haven't seen the apartment, and I haven't seen them. So there are no new zany, madcap adventure stories to tell, and I miss those stories and those people.

I told Crocker on Sunday, having one too many El Presidente margaritas at a Chili's and calling him from the restaurant, that I should write him another essay soon.

But I have work to catch up on. And I think I don't have anything new to say, no new issues to harp on or no new questions to ask.

I once called this the "new season" of "Life of Riley McCarthy," which was a joke. Nothing much is happening.