First of all, I'm a bird nerd. I've been back in Los Angeles for about five hours, and I actually miss my stupid little bird. I keep gazing, wistfully, at the place where her cage used to stand. 

Aimee is kindly bird-sitting, and I am resisting the urge to call her up and ask her how Cassie's doing. Bored and depressed, just like she has been for the past week would be the answer, I'm sure.

I've decided that once I get settled into my new place, I am going to get Cassie a friend. I've been neglecting her shamefully lately, and she's starting to seem listless. Every morning at Aimee's, she hears the birds outside and starts squawking loudly to get their attention.

First of all, she makes a fuckload of noise, especially considering that she's roughly the size of a Tylenol tablet. It's not pleasant to wake up to her ear-splitting reveille every morning. But secondly, and more importantly, I feel sorry for her. She's so persistent, but the other birds don't answer her. I feel like the parent of the kid that nobody in the fourth grade wants to play with. And thirdly, my parakeet book explicitly states that I should buy a second bird. It also says that Cassie will (most likely) maintain her friendly behavior towards me, so I really have no excuse.

I've already picked out a name-- names, rather. It's going to be a boy (I can't handle another female bird, what with the constant gnawing and all) and he is going to be either white or blue. If he's white, I'll name him Hedwig. If he's blue, he'll be Pigwidgeon.

I am also an Olympics nerd. I am so excited that the Olympics are starting tomorrow that I am practically peeing my pants. I love those cheesy athlete profiles, and instant replays, and waiting for the scores, and hearing the Star Spangled Banner as often as possible, and watching the medal count in the papers. I am stirred by every manufactured moment that NBC throws my way. I feel so derivative at times like these.

Actually, I prefer the winter games (I'm a huge fan of both the luge and Brian Boitano) but the summer ones are enjoyable nonetheless. Even though in this instance, "summer" is a misnomer. Even in Sydney, it's not summer until December.  It never occurred to me before, but the Olympics are quite northern-hemisphere-centric, aren't they?

My favorite events are the diving and swimming events, and the women's gymnastics stuff. (Little known Mo fact: one of my relatives is actually an Olympic judge for the Netherlands. She judges rhythmic gymnastics. I have no idea how she got that job. She's a stout old lady and to my knowledge, was never a gymnast herself.) 

I also look forward to checking out a couple of new events: women's water polo and team diving. (It's about damn time the women get to do things like weightlifting and water polo.  We need a women's ice hockey team in 2002.)

The icing on the cake is that I've been to Olympia myself. What a wonderful experience that was, to be able to see the home of the first Olympic torch, and the ancient judges' stand, and the benches where the oiled, naked athletes used to sit.

It's hard to believe that I was actually in Athens on the day that the Sydney torch was first lit. May 2000. Was it really only a few months ago? I think that may have been in another lifetime. Maybe it's the year 2000 B.C.E. that I'm thinking of. Give or take.

I am also a Sims nerd. I've been playing with Aimee's game (she graciously ceded her computer to me so I could play with the coveted expansion pack) and I created a frat house, the Beta Kappa house. (My residents are named Alpha, Beta, Kappa, Zeta, Gamma, Delta, Omega and Zed.) Aimee's rejoinder was a fabulous sorority house. I hope she adds the houses and their inhabitants to her Cowtown Chronicles, because I'm quite proud of them.

At any rate, I was up until five in the morning playing with the Sims game. When I don't get my homework done for next week, and fail straight out of grad school, it will be my own damn fault.

There are many more ways in which I am a nerd, but if I tried to explain them all, we'd be here all night. Besides, if you've been reading me for any length of time at all, you already knew that.

As for my own virginity, I lost it in the most cliché way imaginable: on prom night, at my parents house, with my high school boyfriend, Bruce.