I stole from the thief once more. A word, this time around: craptastic.

She didn't really answer when I asked her what it meant. Perhaps she herself doesn't know. I think it's one of those words whose meaning shifts, depending on how you use it. Vague in the same class as sweet, OK, love, and other four-letter words.

We celebrated Kuya Val's birthday today with a movie marathon: Top Secret starring Val Kilmer with bad hair, then LOTR:The Two Towers Extended DVD version. It was a gas but I got a headache from too much laughing courtesy of Kilmer singing Skeet Surfin'. Craptastic.

I suspect that I have just passed through a nexus of sorts, a crossroads. I look at the rearview mirror and notice that I left a few things back there: dreams; nightmares; people-who-rode-with-me-but-have-to-take-a-different-road-from-then-on. I race on along the path and realize that I move at a different speed from others: some cannot keep up with me, some are leaving me behind. Yet the Road opens up wide, tantalizing me with promises of what awaits along the way. I see that I share it with other faces, some familiar, some new, all going my way too. I take a deep draught of the sweet wind as it rushes past me.

Now that's craptastic.