Friday, 22 March 2002 | Video game

I was wrong about the rain and wrong about the order of the sets, but I was right about that particular band I don't like. I tried to stand there and watch them, but my feet kept moving, slowly but deliberately in a backwards direction, until I was standing at the Ms. Pac-Man machine at the back of the building. That's where I waited out the first part of the show, my right hand clutching the red spherical joystick, my left braced against the video game's hood, in an attempt to keep the machine from wobbling back and forth. I made it as far as the screen where the power pellets lose their magic and promptly died, just in time to see the Moldy Peaches take the stage. The only disappointing thing about their set was the obnoxious guy standing near me who yelled "whoo!" in my right ear during "Steak for Chicken," and that wasn't the band's fault. Like some sort of freak groupie, I got my picture taken with the female lead singer, something hadn't planned on doing at all. She was just standing there by herself and I'd brought a camera, so, there you go.

In an hour or so, I think I'm going to stop by that Green party, the invitation to which I so eloquently accepted last month. I'm going partly out of guilt, though I haven't decided whether I'm going to confess that guilt or go by my middle name all evening.