A couple of articles that I thoroughly enjoyed:

First, a nice commentary on The Passion of The Christ and the reaction it has received from some people.

Second, a very good defense of those damn Yankees and their trade for Alex Rodriguez. It's only right that the rich should get richer and the powerful more powerful. It's the American way.

I played paintball today.

I should re-phrase that. Other people played paintball as I ran around the field. They spent most of their time shooting me. Even my own team.

Now, I know getting shot by a paintball sometimes hurts and I accept this. Occasionally I'll even get bored and go running madly toward the other team, firing my gun like a suicidal jihadist, cackling madly all the way and taking out as many people as I can before I get killed. When I do this, I find the opposing players will shoot you repeatedly before they figure out they've hit you. So it smarts a bit, but it's nothing a couple minutes on the sideline won't fix.

Today however, we had a new person show up to play. "Sure, you can play with us!" we all said, being the friendly lot we are. I was more than happy to have him on my team. That is, until we started the first game with him. The horn sounded, I took off running down the field like I usually do. I couldn't have taken more than three steps and the guy shoots me in the back of the head. The back of the head!! Is it that hard to tell us apart? I know alot of us are wearing camoflage and it can get confusing. BUT I'M ONLY A COUPLE FEET AWAY FROM HIM AND RUNNING TOWARD THE OTHER TEAM! "Sorry!" he says.

Ok, take a deep breath. I turn around and glare at him as I start to walk off the field, since I'm now dead. It was a mistake, I tell myself. Get down a little lower next time and you won't get shot. I had just about convinced myself of this until he SHOOTS ME IN THE FRIGGIN' LEG AS I'M WALKING OFF THE FIELD WITH MY HANDS UP!! "Oops, my bad." Grrrr.

It's all good though. Everyone else on our team ended up dying and he was the last one left against four people on the other team. When they finally got to him, they shot him in the side of the head, the arm, the side, and a whole bunch of other places before they figured out he was dead. So I felt better.

From a Star Trek Fan site's FAQ Page (spelling left as-is):

"Where can I find beautiful women that love Star Trek?

Sadly, I have never met a beautiful woman who loves Star Trek. This doesn't mean they're not out there. I've never been to a convention, but I've never read anything indicating beautiful women attend them. Quite the opposite, in fact. If you do meet a beautiful woman who love Star Trek, realize you have a diaomond in the rough. Pamper her as the Queen she is, or something."

What more can you say on the topic? I, for one, am left speechless.

I've got a pretty cool article about how Anheuser-Busch tracks inventory, sales, even competitor's shelf space. All in the name of being the King of Beers. This article appeals to two of my favorite interests: beer and computers. Who wouldn't like that?

In a return to medieval medicine, the UK has decided to allow the use of sterile maggots to treat and clean wounds. It makes sense if you think about it. I'm just not sure I much care for the idea of little worms eating my dead flesh off of me while I watch.

Well, maybe not infinity. But I was able to squat 315 lbs last night, which is pretty darn good for me! Next stop? Who knows. Last time I was squatting this much I just barely made it to this level and had to go out to the field for several weeks with the Army. I never did get back to my current level until now, more than a year later. I'd like to maintain this level and keep building on it if I can. My back is holding up well and I'm not having any issues specifically related to the squatting, so I'm encouraged that more weight is very possible.

Next goal is to press 100 lb dumbbells on an incline. I've been working that exercise hard but not making much progress. As always, I just have to keep truckin' and pushing and eventually the plateau will be overcome.

Now you can read the posts from each month by following the appropriate link on the left <-- . I've limited the number of posts displaying on the front page to the last 5 posts.

Finally, we have a functional page beyond the main index page!! We're making progress, baby!!

Dorice and I decided to go to a movie tonight. Of course, the movie theater was STILL jammed full. It was so busy last night, we didn't even get out of the car when we saw the crowds. We just drove right past the theater, went to Hollywood Video and rented a movie about the Amish. On a side note, how many girlfriends would spend their Valentines evening watching a documentary about the Amish? Not many. In my defense, Dorice was the one who picked the movie out. I . . . I mean we almost got stuck watching Under The Tuscan Sun *cough*chick flick*cough* but the movie place was out of copies *phew*. We had to settle for Devil's Playground instead. I am blessed indeed.

Anyway, I digress. We decided to go out to see a movie tonight instead, and the place was still busy. After waiting in line for the tickets we were running a little late, so Dorice went in to get seats and I got in line to get the snacks. I got the snacks and headed for the theater showing Welcome to Mooseport, the movie I had bought tickets for. I walked in (hands full of soda, popcorn, candy, gloves, and every other personal item imaginable to man) and tried to find her.

"Where in the world is she?" I'm wondering as I scan the audience. It's kind of dark, but whenever there's a daylight scene in the movie the theater lights up pretty well and I can see. I swear to god she's not in there. "Aw, c'mon now, I feel like an ass standing here in the front of the theater staring at people trying to find her. Where the heck is she sitting?"

By now I'm getting hot, with sweat beading on my forehead because I'm still wearing my jacket. I'm getting embarrassed walking back and forth across the front of the theater trying to find her. Wait!! She has her cell phone on her! After struggling to get my phone out of my pocket without dropping everything else, I give her a ring.

Me: "Where are you?"
Her: "I'm on the left."
Me: "I don't see you."
Her: "I'm on the left."
Me: "Your left, or my left?"
Her: "Huh?"
Me: "The left facing the screen, or the left facing the seats?"
Her: "The left facing the screen." (she's sounding a little annoyed now. I'm sweating profusely.)
Me: "I still don't see you!"

At this point, I give up and hang up so I can put all the junk down and take off my jacket. I manage to get everything back in my hands and stare into the theater some more. Where the heck is she? The theater isn't THAT full. You'd think she could wave or something so I could find her. I decide to call her back.

Me: "Where the heck are you? I can't see you."
Her: "Well, where are you?"
Me: "I'm down in front, right by where the steps start."
Her: "I don't see you."

I hold my tongue, but by this point I'm thinking "How in the heck can you not see me?!?" Meanwhile, sweat begins to run down my sides. How high is the thermostat set in here anyway?

Her: "Walk back and forth in front of the screen, so I can see you."
Me: "Ok . . . *walking and staring into the audience* . . . do you see me?"
Her: "No!"

I hang up again. I finally give up and walk up the steps along the side of the theater, squinting down each row of seats as I go. I reach the top, but no Dorice. "Forget it, I'm putting this stuff down for a second and drying off", I say to myself. I set all the brick-brack down next to me and take a seat. My phone buzzes (being the considerate guy I am, I made sure to set it to vibrate before we got to the theater ;-)

Her (sounding completely exasperated): "Just meet me out in the lobby!!"
Me: "I can't see you. I'm all the way at the top of the theater. Where are you?!?"
Her, through clenched teeth: "MEET ME IN THE LOBBY!!" (she abruptly hangs up.)

How could I have missed her? There is no way I saw ANYBODY get up and walk out of the theater. I left all the stuff there in the seat and went out into the hallway outside the theater. I still don't see her!

I walked down toward the main lobby, and guess who I see? What movie was she standing in front of? It wasn't Welcome to Mooseport, I can tell you that! I had to start laughing, because we had spent the last fifteen minutes trying to find each other in separate theaters. Thanks goodness for cell phones is all I can say. I do want to apologize to the people in 50 First Dates, the movie Dorice thought we were going to. I'm sure they got tired of Dorice trying to guide me in by cell phone.

Anyway, we finally got into Welcome to Mooseport and watched the movie. The lesson? Make sure you both are going to the same movie before you split up. Turns out she thought we were still going to the movie we meant to go to last night before we gave up because of the crowds. I thought we were going to Welcome to Mooseport instead, which was showing as a sneak preview tonight. Dorice had said last week she really wanted to see Welcome to Mooseport, so I thought it would be cool to go see that instead.

By the way, the movie was good, in case you're wondering. Definitely worth seeing for both sexes. Good date movie. Just be sure your cell phones are set to vibrate before you go in. And dress light, it can get a little warm in those movie theaters.

I learned how to write in XHTML this morning, and it was surprisingly easy! You can read through a quick tutorial on how to convert your pages from HTML to XHTML and make the transition yourself if you're interested. Of course, the official page badge was added to the bottom of the page. Check it out! I'm officially XHTML compliant. Take that, killer zombies =P

This is the second night in a row that I've had the same freaky dream. In my dream, the world is over run with zombies, but not zombies in the traditional sense. They're fast and just as smart as everyone else. In fact, they're pretty much like a normal person except they're bent on killing all the normal people. Don't ask me how I know who the zombies are, I just know (it is a dream, after all.) Of course, there's the obligatory rag-tag group of normal people left whom I'm trying desperately to get to, all the while trying to avoid the extremely fast-moving killer zombies. It's a very 28 Days Later kind of dream. George W. was even in last night's version (he was a normal person trying to get to the rag-tag group of survivors, in case you're curious.)

So the question I find myself asking is this: since I've had this dream two nights in a row, is there any significance? I usually don't even dream two nights in a row. Very Freudian, if you ask me. Fast moving zombies represent anxieties about upcoming changes in my life which at one time were in the distant future, but are now immanent? And why is George Bush in my post-apocalyptic-murderous-zombie-dream?

At least they're not fast moving naked zombies. That would really throw me for a loop.

I got out of school this afternoon for lunch and went out to my car. RRRR RRRR RRRR. Car turned over, but didn't start. RRRR RRRRR RRRRRR. Did I flood it? RRRRR RRRRRR RRRRRR. Nope, couldn't have flooded it, it's fuel injected. RRRRRRR RRRRR RRRRRRR. Great, my car won't start. Well, one tow from a friend and a couple hours later, the local mechanic tells me my crank position sensor decided to go to crank-position-sensor-heaven. Guess what the cost of a crank position sensor is? $17 according to autozone.com. Guess what it ended up costing me to get it fixed?

Significantly more than $17. I'll leave it at that.

He wants to change the serpentine belt too, but I don't know if I'm going to have him fix that. I'm not sure if my credit is good enough to qualify for a loan that large.

I told the guy to go ahead and change the oil as well while he had it in. It's been close to 8000 miles since the last change - I think it's due. The oil must be the consistency of mayonnaise by now =)

So, lessons to be learned:

1. Make sure you have an emergency fund. You never know when your car will suddenly decide it needs a sabbatical.


2. Make sure you have an emergency kit in your car. I've used mine twice this week. I used my first aid kit to treat a person who was in a car accident on Monday, and today I used my tow rope to get my non-running car to the garage with the help of a friend with a truck. Imagine the cost of having to get the thing towed? Yecch!


3. Car parts are not really that expensive. It's getting them into your car and working correctly that costs all the money!!


4. The most expensive part of fixing your car now-a-days is diagnosing the problem. We don't have mechanics in America anymore, we have automotive technicians. This new title justifies the eighty bucks they charge to plug your car into a computer which then tells them what the problem is. Evidently this is much more labor and skill intensive than trouble shooting by trial and error was in the old days. ;-)

Last night was a night of highs for me! I had a great workout, deadlifting 315 pounds easily. Next stop: squatting 315. It's been a while since I've lifted that much, but I'm confident I can hit it before I leave Augusta. I also had a good bicep workout, curling 115 (which is a personal best!)

I also took some girth measurements. I've put a half inch on my arms, and inch on my shoulders, and an inch on my thighs. I've felt like I've had some really good workouts since I've been down here, and now I've got the evidence.

However, I've also put inches on in other places. I hopped on the scale in the locker room and came in at 210 lbs. 210 lbs!! I was 193 when I got down here in October. Obviously, some of that is muscle so I'm not entirely dissapointed by the weight gain. Some of it is not though. When I get back to Rochester, it looks like it's time to hit the old diet routine again and get my spare tire deflated a little bit.