I've been watching a lot of Monty Python lately. I like that skit that is a talk show about trees and various wood related things, like a block of wood and a bucket of sawdust. I'm happy to have a class with a British professor starting in 1 week. I think the British are the funniest people. Roxanne and I have agreed John Cleese will make a good godfather.

Last Monday we had an indoor Easter egg hunt. By "we" I mean 5 people aged 19-27. I got a package of Caramilk bunnies, which are just like Caramilk squares, but bigger and shaped like bunnies (in case you didn't catch that from their name). I know Mikara did, because she has professed her Caramilk love before. You should start a cult Mikara: Caramilkology. You could call yourself the Grand Caramilkara. I'd join, as long as there was free Caramilk.

On Sunday we saw Danya as they were passing through. By the way, Danya = Dann & Tanya. It's like one of those celebrity name-combining things; you know, like Bennifer or TomKat, but with less Scientology. In fact, I am pretty sure Danya are not Scientologists at all. Although Dann has memorized all of John Travolta's dance scenes from Saturday Night Fever. Fortunately (and surprisingly) he didn't have any of his polyester jumpsuits with him, so we played board games in their hotel room. That's not a euphemism; we really did play board games.

My enjoyment of board games is inordinate (except Yahtzee, which is stupid). I think this is because boardgames (like many things) are self-contained worlds where good, bad, victory, and defeat are all clearly defined. As opposed to the real world, which is big and confusing, where good seems contingent, victory is ambivalent, reference points keep floating, and I can't even spell axium. I'm on a 3 game winning streak for crib right now, which is probably a personal record; I'm not very good at crib. Once when I was in Quebec I played crib against a lady named Lucille, whom I think was my Great Aunt's sister-in-law (I don't know what that makes her to me). Anyway, the point is that she was really old, so I thought I win easily. I thought it would be like taking canding from a very old baby. But it wasn't. Oh how very wasn't it was. Lucille rocked my cribbage world like nobody's business, and that was not the bee's knees in any way, shape, or form. The moral of the story is: old people will rock you at crib.

I had my last exam on Thursday. The exam was on Romantic literature, so I studied hockey statistics. After some fairly liberal reading between the lines, I gambled that the professor would suddenly decide to change the subject of the exam to hockey. He didn't. Oh well, at least I'll do better in the pool; that's all that really matters. Plus I think Zdeno Chara was a Poet Laureate at some point anyway. I have Detroit and Ottawa penciled in for the finals, with Calgary and either New Jersey or Carolina as the other conference finalists. It's really hard to say though. I won't remind anyone how poor my olympic predictions were.