Wow, there's something about "Livin' On A Prayer" that's so ... so ... 7th grade. And I love it. It's funny to think back about how I heard that song when I was 12 years old. First off, I thought the first few words, when Bon Jovi says, "Once upon a time, not so long ago," I thought the beginning of that was, "Turpentine." That's what it sounded like on the radio, when I could only hear it once without being able to go back.

I had no idea what Tommy did working "on the docks," or why his sixstring was in "hoc." I also thought the words, "Gina dreams of running away" were "Gina dreams of dying of AIDS." And I barely knew about AIDS back then. In fact, a few years earlier, I had a babysitter over, and when I made some remark about only women getting pregnant and all that, she said something about only men got AIDS. I knew even less about it then, but it's crazy to look back now and think that could've been the perception in the early days.

Know what else brings back memories of dances in the grade school gymnasium? "Never Say Goodbye." Remember the line, "You lost more than that in my backseat baby"? I always had a picture of a guy and a girl making out in the back seat of a car, but I didn't know what she could've lost back there. When the realization came to me after who knows how many times I'd heard the song, I felt as if it were this great epiphany.

Then it became a joke everytime I made out in the car with my girlfriend in high school -- who got her license to drive 10 months before I did. And she had a station wagon, so the back seat was a lot more than just a back seat.

So there's a little trip down memory lane with Bon Jovi. I ran into him once, you know. Two years ago I was in a camera store in December getting my sister's gift, and there was a guy in a leather jacket next to me looking at cameras. He seemed familiar to me, and when I went to another part of the store and stared at him from afar, I realized it was Jon Bon Jovi. I know where he lives you know, near John Valentin of the Boston Red Sox and Geraldo Rivera, but Geraldo's selling the house and moving closer to NYC. Rumor is Derek Jeter is building a place on that road too. I'll look for it from the river, if I find any friends with boats.

OK, random rambling entry tonight. Let's recap the events of the day:

� Cleaned my room. And man, did I need to.

� Went with my mom to watch her high school's (she's a teacher) boys basketball team in the conference tournament. They lost to the second-seeded team.

� Watched TV from last night: "King of the Hill" through "X-Files."

� Saw a report that the Eagles are working on a new studio album, in anticipation of a tour this year. That would be cool. I would essentially complete my list of seeing all my most favorite musicians in concert: Springsteen, BNL, Cowboy Junkies, Lyle Lovett, James Taylor, Paul McCartney, Mellencamp, Sting, Billy Joel, Tom Petty, DMB. Haven't seen Garth Brooks yet, but that doesn't seem like a possibility any time soon, so I'm not going to fret over it. Gee, if the Eagles tour, maybe I should take the ex-girlfriend (same one from the bit about "Never Say Goodbye" before), the one who was leaving for college the day after they played at the Meadowlands in '94 and therefore would not let me go (could not go herself) and then proceeded to date her "big brother" at college and dump me two months later when I flew to North Carolina to visit her for the weekend. That is not fun, let me tell you. When my fears were realized and it became apparent that we were over (and she made me fly to NC to confirm it), I spent an entire Sunday with her � rollerblading, meals and such � and said only two dozen words, if that. The next day, when she went to class or something, I wandered around the small town alone (ordering flowers for her birthday a few weeks later. I was pitiful. I should've just let go), went to watch "Wonder Years" reruns in the dorm lounge when Heather was back in her room and, after some time spent in silent study together in the library, I went for a long walk alone through the streets of Davidson at night, returning very late after a long absence before which I'd not mentioned where I was going. She said she was worried. Whatever. I had fantasies that weekend of leaving in the middle of the night so that she'd wake up in the morning, look down onto the floor (I KNOW!) and I'd be gone. No note, nothing. Just gone. And I wouldn't call or anything. She'd have to call my parents to find me. I should've done that. Instead, after I left, I got mean and said some bad things and since we have a lot of friends in common, it was weird over the holidays and all. She's still with the guy now, and I've forgiven her a little in a sense for some things, but not everything. I don't know.

� Got Mets tickets for opening day!!! Oh yeah, that's the day's highlight. I wasn't going to go to the opener this year. I went last year, when they beat the Padres. But then I saw that the home opener is against the Braves, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to be in Shea Stadium when the 2000 National League Champions banner is unveiled with the Atlanta Braves there to watch it. That stadium is going to shake, just like it did in Game 5 of last year's NLCS.

And I hope I'm not getting sick again. I've been congested all day (though some of it was from the dust stirred up while cleaning my room) and there's a little soreness in the back of my throat. I'd better not be. I'm going down to D.C. this weekend for four days, many of which will include drunken fun with other Domers and perhaps a reluctant trip to the White House. Hopefully Dubya won't be home.

So I told myself I'd go to bed early tonight. HA! It's 12:41 now. Fucker.

Going ...