He's leaving me

There's a term my friends in Alberta coined, and I think I'm getting it wrong. Internet widow? Online widow? Monitor widow? In any case, the term describes de womyn sitting upstairs, doing something productive or perhaps totally wasteful while their main squeezes are downstairs in the computer room blasting ghouls and pimps in computer games or spending far too much money on eBay "bargains". I know the feeling!

Rocco just splashed out and renovated his IBM compat computer. He installed a bunch of new parts that I know nothing about and apparently it passes all sorts of benchmarks and has killer graphics. He also splashed out on a game that's been out for a while but that the old components couldn't handle (whoa, big boy!). Half Life 2 came into the apartment tonight and he's been installing all the discs (5!) while simultaneously playing the pimp game, what the industry likes to call Grand Theft Auto. You know what? I'm all for it. Ok, mostly. It's great that he has something of his own that I'm not into and that helps him relax and vent a little. I like not being a part of the venting. Of course, his phrasing of what the game means to him is somewhat suspicious. "I've lusted after this game for too many months." Lust? Cripes! He found me on the internet (yes, mom, dad, you heard it here second - thanks Kath!), so should I not worry about his affections being transferred to another virtual entity? Ha! It's all tongue in cheek, but I do wonder about the way the games consume him... At least the hero guy in the game resembles an ex-boyfriend of mine. Now I can create ridiculous fantasy sequences in my head while Rocco prowls the virtual landscape for targets. By the way, he doesn't know about the similarity, until he reads this. Mwah ha!