Truesday.

Plans

So, to fill in the last few weeks, I am now in Saint Paul, Minnesota. I spell that out because I'm proud to live here. I love this town. It's really nice to be somewhere I've always wanted to be. Soon, the apartment will all be organized, and then it's just down to livin'.

(The next bit is influenced by the television. No, not some dumb ass sitcom or documentary, but the damned Olympics. I've been sucked in by the coverage, mostly the swimming, and it's gotten me thinking. Oh, and by the by, if Mr. MVanK is reading, I'm wondering if you have any photos from your birthday party back in 1988. I remember wearing my Seoul 1988 Olympics shirt at that party. I'd love to see a pic.)

We all need a plan. Something to help us keep going, something to give us a map to follow as we barrel towards whatever goal it is that we've prescribed to ourselves. Okay, I'm sure that there are those who would disagree with me, but isn't NOT having a plan still a plan? Hmm. 

Now that I have a void in my daily routine -- that is, bitching and complaining about my geographic 'situation' -- I -- along with influence from the Olympics (which used to be a big deal to me as I was a swimmer and wanted nothing more -- before discovering punk rock, cigarettes, beer, and being a slacker -- than to swim in the 'games.') have decided that I want to compete again. So I have a loose (term used strongly) goal, and now I need a plan. Firstly, what to compete in? Yes, something athletic and/or 'sporty.' You choose which word you want. Most men my age (Men. That sounds adult.) take up running. Now, I've been doing that for a couple of years now, and love it. In fact, I've gotten pretty good at it. Enough so that I consider doing a 13.1 as being no biggie. But, I am prone to some running injuries, and since I haven't brought myself to get into a group or club, I can't really get a good training program going. So, there's that. It would be fun to work towards a marathon, complete it, and see what comes next. There's that. Hmmm.

I've also considered Soccer. Which would put me into the team sport world. I'm not so comfortable there. I love the game, and I love playing it, but I would rather join a team with friends than just join a team and hope I like the other guys. And gals. Hmmmm. Same goes for cycling. I would have to join a team, and for the most part, I love cycling, but I've never like cyclists. I liked cycling with my friends in Ann Arbor because they were friends first. And we all had the right attitude (as far as I was concerned.)

So, lastly, there's the old bitch. Swimming. The one thing that kept me from watching the Olympics in years past was the fact that I swam and the Olympics has swimming in it. I never wanted to be in the same room as the games. I swam for a long time as a kid, and when I finally was set free, I wanted to be nowhere near it. Now, I miss it. I understand the strokes, I like the feeling of solitude it provides -- even in a crowded lane. Now, to do this, I would have to get into 'swimming shape.' This is not just plain 'in shape.' Swimming fitness is a bitch to get to. Running a mile and swimming one are two VERY different things. So, there's that. Now, I love racing in swimming. I can't hear you, can't see you, and I don't care. I am racing alone. Nice. BUT... I would have to join a team to get the workouts and feedback I need, so it's the combination of the two. 

The goal has been decided, loosely. The first part of the plan is to determine what. Then comes where. Hmmmmmmmmmmm.

A Conundrum (of sorts).

I am moving. We all know this by now. But what troubles me are the things I have yet to pack up -- not due to their awkwardness or their usefulness even at this late date -- that I want to leave behind. Sure, letting go of some bike wheels I don't have frames for and a cyclocross frame are not a big deal, but still. It takes a bit of work to sell items, even online. The stumbling block really gets notice when it comes to my (somewhat) ancient 4-track console that I got a few years back. It is missing a little rubber band that allows the heads in the cassette deck to turn, and I've been too damn lazy to actually buy a new one. Even more typical? The rubber band in question costs like 12 bucks. No big deal, right? So, I am torn. Do I keep this thing (it's big) and hope that someone someday will get me a guitar (I sure can't afford one) so I can do little home recordings, or do I let it go, find it a new home, with someone who will fix it and use it with certainty? 

I. Don't. Know.

Opinions are very very welcome.

Return to the Water

So it would seem that I have run my last run here in Houston. And I still have a couple of weeks before the big move. Why? Well, let me tell you. Remember that little hip injury I had? Well, turns out I've overstrained the ligaments, so I have to give the damn thing 2 to 3 weeks rest. But the doctor said that swimming is A-OK. So, looks like it's back in the pool for me. Of course, I've already packed up my gear for said sport, so I had to go get a new suit and goggles yesterday, and I have to pay to swim at the UH pool. I'm sure there's a cheaper deal (UH charges $8 per use) out there, but their pool is swanky. Very nice. And I should know, I've swum in some pretty outdated, small, and just plain useless pools. This one is for swimming, damnit. I love it. Reminds me of the meet I swam back in high school at IUPUI. The pool there had been used for a Pan Am Games, and it was just... Beautiful. 

So. Back to the pool. Of course. 

(I keep thinking that is where my destiny actually lay. That I am cursed to discover that where I really belong (as opposed to a marathon course) is in the pool. Masters swimming. Funny how things work out.)

The Rolling Stones

For a couple of weeks now, I've noticed that every time we go into the local taco place -- and a certain person is manning the register -- there is a great mix of nothing but Stones songs playing on the speakers. Late sixties, early seventies, mid eighties, all their best stuff. And most times -- I've spent a great deal of time with Mick, Keith and all the rest, so I kinda know what I'm talking about -- I can dismiss the band, as I remember what they've become in the last few years, and I've heard some songs so often, they don't register anymore. But man, hearing Beast of Burden, or Have You Seen Your Mother, Baby, or Wanna Hold You just takes me to a higher place. What a fantastic, incredible band. Sometimes, they just sound... Perfect. 

Coffee and Thunder

Here in Houston, storms in the belly of summer are a daily occurrence. Today happens to be one of those days, however, where the storm is arriving sonically before visually. The sky is a bland grey, lacking the usual black death thunderhead that usually takes up a good portion of the afternoon weather here. The thunder is booming in the background, diminished by the closed windows, the sound of the air conditioner turning on, and late sixties era Rolling Stones from the speakers. I've decided on a physically lazier day than usual -- in fact, it may become a weekend of the same -- and I am okay with that. I figure if I write a bit (be it for work or pleasure) and watch the movies I've rented (I'm finally getting comfortable with films after a long dry spell) and enjoy some really really strong coffee, I'll be happy. Besides, I've got a twinge in my right hip telling me that 1) I won't be getting to my (rather far off) goal of running 1000 miles from August to August, and 2) that I can use a bit of a healthy lay up before getting back on the road at a lower milage for a week or so. Perhaps it will be an 'easing'  out of the humidity and heat of my runs here in Houston. God knows I'll be able to run farther up north, in easier and more manageable weather. 

As a quick house cleaning aside, yes I was right. Spain won the Euro 2008 Championship. Over Germany, which was wrong, but at least I can now say that I've called the winners of the last two major Football tournaments. I'm sure that if I put money on it, I'd have lost. The only thing I'll really say is that while I was happy that I was right, I was hoping that Germany would "show up" to the game, much like they did against Portugal. Alas, it was not to be and I was right rather than happy, and Germany played like a slightly less mediocre version of themselves that lost to Brazil in the World Cup in 2002. 

Anyway, it's Tour time. Let's hope for very little doping. I'd rather have a boring tour with clean riders than what we've had for the last ten. 

Writing here is usually spurred on by something for me. I don't feel that my life is that important that I have to report on it all the time. In fact, I am a fairly boring guy. I have an active imagination, but I do a lot of -- shall we say -- 'repetitive living.' And I can't help but think that a lot of us who post on this internet 'thing' live in a similar fashion. I don't want to take away from the important aspects of our lives, however. I don't say this to criticise, far from it. In fact, I am kind of amazed. When did it become so necessary for us -- in a very basic way, this is exactly what we're doing -- to write our autobiographies? What are our blogs and websites if not a living, breathing, active version of that format? 

Sure, many blogs (I really dislike using that term. It makes me feel like an old man in a dumb sit-com saying something "the kids would say.") are of specific theme and goal. My wife's blog focuses mainly on her knitting, but oft-times delves into more personal territory, and she reads other blogs that are exclusively knitting based. I read blogs that are devoted to music, music criticism, running, internet crap, friends' families, etc., because what are our lives if nothing than collections of these little interests in goals? Even if they are the "big" topics, like politics, or religion, or -- god help us -- celebrity missteps, this is the meat and potatoes of who and what we are.

But that doesn't properly touch on my earlier question. Here I am devoting a small slice of server space in some air conditioned room to the wanderings of my mind, and for what? What do I hope to achieve? Perhaps it's all just 'practice' for me, that I am actually writing something 'real.' Whatever that means, right?Who is to say anymore? Is a book -- published, on paper, with a glossy photo and hip typeface adorning its trade paperback cover -- more 'real' or 'important' than what some dude in Decatur thinks about the current state of American heavy metal or the musings of a self involved teenager in some cushioned suburban hell thinks about her friends and family? 

I walk down this rather precarious road because I just happened to finish watching the film version of Marjane Satrapi's Persepolis. A well done film of an even better and -- truth be told -- riveting collection of graphic novels, the story is the story of a woman who grew up in what has to be one of the most turbulent times in one of the most intensely conflicted nations in the 20th century: Iran. The story focuses on -- obviously -- the most direct and obvious fallout from having to live under one oppressive regime (the Shah), followed by a revolution (1979), a war (the Iran-Iraq war of the 1980s), and another oppressive regime (the Islamic Republic), but what popped into my head was how it simply is a story that most of us -- and by "us" I mean the white kid who grew up very safe in the suburbs, protected by a soft layer of easy entertainment and relative freedom -- have no fucking clue what any of that is like. Sure, I had to endure my share of crazy dysfunctional behavior, but I didn't have to worry about where my next meal would come from, or being sent into a war I didn't understand (although that is a concern for many now here), or worrying if government troops would arrest my family members simply for being sarcastic. Which they were. In spades. 

Now, I know that this argument and line of thought are pretty cliche. "Yeah, yeah, they had to deal with that, but I had to deal with this!" And I certainly don't wish to take anything away from anyone's dealing with depression or addiction, or death, or whatever, but sometimes it feels like we all got a bit too wrapped up in the whole Holden Caulfield (I can't remember if I'm spelling his name right. The Catcher In the Rye has become one of those books I find to only work when you're a 15 year old kid who feels out of place and is looking for justification at your bitterness and unease. It doesn't work after 18 or so.) thing. That is to say that -- and I use myself as an example because I am totally guilty -- we all feel that our story is so damned important. To me, it sure as shit is! 

If you could crawl inside my brain and look around at the visuals, you'd see a lot of reminiscing. And a lot of plans to write it all down in a book somewhere and hope that it would somehow get noticed, and people would buy it, read it, and -- cheap and corny but true -- like it. That "me", through my story, would become just that little more important. I'm not the only one. Look around, and you'll see what I mean. There is a graphic novel that covers just about every topic in the middle aged suburban white upbringing experience. But are they really that different? Are the authors really tackling the subjects in a myriad of unique ways? I can't say for all of them, but it seems unlikely. And what of all the blogs? Can we possibly read them all? Are they giving us any answers? Am I just part of the problem?

I think the reason we want to tell our stories is to give them some value. To make them real, to make them manageable. We are filled with maybes and what-ifs to the brim, and telling our stories gives those open ends a bit of closure, ends the speculation. Lets us move on, simply. I want to tell my story because at present I'm stuck in it. The past, the good old days, what have you. Mired in regret and a sea of "if only I'd...'s." I guess the tricky bit is telling the stories in such a way that they're interesting, right? That the whole tale of me getting drunk the first time has some deeper meaning, or has a point to the plot, if you will. And while I am a firm believer in the idea that "everything is connected," this may be a bit of a stretch. 

So perhaps this is all practice. Maybe someday I'll write a book that an angry and (way too early for his or her own good) bitter 22 year old will read and they can relate. Maybe it'll help them. I don't know. 

The thunder has wound down now. The Stones are entering the seventies, and my coffee is merely lukewarm grit in the bottom of the cup. 

Time for living.

Whoopsy

Wow, was I wrong. I shouldn't make picks regarding a tournament as tetchy as Euro 2008. I think I missed just about every one of the events that have led up to who is left and who has gone home. But I will say this: If the rest of the tournament is boring, defensive football won by Germany 1-0 in the final against Spain, it will still be worth having watched Russia take out all the steam of a raging (Group Stage) Netherlands, Germany going from playing like a weak-ass MLS team to going on to the semi-finals, and Turkey playing in some of the most amazing matches this side of the Liverpool Champion's League Final against AC Milan a couple of years back - multiple times. Jesus, three matches in a row! And now they're limited on who can actually play against Germany. Seems to me that the more you limit the Turks, the more they're likely to win. In the 90th minute, coming back three goals down. I (still) think that Spain will take it all -- goal scoring and speed making the difference -- but I'd really like to see a Russia v. Turkey final. Who the hell knows? I remember sitting at the Houston Dynamo v. N.E. Revolution match last week thinking that -- these two sides played better than Podolski and Co. did against Austria. And now, they look better than most. They have the defensive capability that the Spaniards lack, as well as some fast, frenetic scorers. Now, I say all of this even though Spain has yet to face the irritatingly still in contention Italy. I know they're world champs, but I kinda hoped that they'd go out in the group stages, and Romania would go through. If only to prove my theory that the old guard (Italy, France, Netherlands, Portugal, etc.) are kind of, well, in decline. Russia, Turkey, Spain. These seem to be the nations on the up and up. Of course I say all of this despising the Italian system, only cheering for them if they're in a match against a South American side -- I don't like South American sides -- and I think they spend too much time whining to the referees. But, it has to be said, they got through playing ugly football against an old, injured (Ribery) and lackluster French side. Wake up -- Anelka isn't that great. Anymore. Nor is Henry, who is only going to get playing time at the Camp Nou this year because they're getting rid of their current system. The next world cup isn't going to feature the old guard that took the late nineties by storm, I think. Russia is on the rise, and if some of the central and eastern European nations can get it together, those qualifying groups that seem so easy for some countries could turn out to be surprises. So, back to the matter at hand. I hope that Spain wins against Italy. Then we'll have a really exciting final four to watch mid week, with possibilities of these as finals: Germany v. Spain Germany v. Russia Turkey v. Spain Turkey v. Russia Wow. Who would have seen these a-comin'?

Now that we've seen them all once...

I'm not going to preface this with some pithy crap about what time of year it is, and blah blah sports blah. Nope, just going to start up with this. It's Euro 2008! Yes, I know that I wasn't planning on watching the tourney on TV, as I was planning on actually being there (in Switzerland OR Austria -- who cares?) but I'm pretty damn happy that ESPN is showing every match. And that's really where I want to start with this. Firstly, it would be nice if Tommy Smyth would let Julie Foudy get a word in edgewise. Granted, I have a real problem with Foudy's rather American tack on "soccer." She tends to swim in that irritatingly college soccer vocabulary that gave us such wonderful phrases as "nutmeg" and "my bad." Urgh. But, honestly, she's really the only American on the set who actually knows anything about the game, its players, and the philosophy of the international tournament. The other prominent Amercian Rece (I think I spelled that right.) Davis, is basically the 'face' of the network here, reading moronic e-mails that come in that any of us -- who actually know how the game works -- would ignore immediately. Okay, so back to my original point. Tommy Smyth. A long running commentator for ESPN on their Champions League coverage, normally he's a welcome and humorous color commentator to the sometimes dry (but also solid and insightful) play by play voice of Derek Rae. But, sitting next to Julie Foudy, we find out that he must have some sort of issue with working with women. He won't let her speak. At all. I don't necessarily agree with all she says, but damn. She won a freakin' World Cup. I think she has a rather informed opinion on the game. Let her talk. You're in no danger of not being listened to, Tommy. 

Secondly, regarding the broadcasting, it's a wise decision that ESPN made to keep British Isles born commentators and experts at the heart of the action. Fox Sports has been rather guilty over the years of letting some jackass Americans take the helm of commentary, and it's been abysmal. To say the least. As much as Andy Gray is a bit over done for me (no fault of his, it's just that I hear him all the time on my FIFA07) he's still one of the classic voices in modern football commentary. 

Okay. On to the sport itself.

Group A.

Well, I feel pretty secure in the notion that Portugal will take the group. There's no way that the Swiss can really last this stage out. Sad to say, but I think that the Portuguese will turn them out, and the Turks can wear them down. The only real stumbling block for Turkey (my pick for number two in the group) will be if they Czechs draw or beat Portugal, but I can't really see that happening. So I think it will end up with Portugal taking the Czechs out with a win, then beating the Swiss. Turkey will beat the Swiss, then draw with the Czechs, taking the number two spot. 

Group B. 

I have to agree with Tommy Smyth on this one. Austria could be the dark horse of the group. Croatia got a ton of kudos upon coming through the qualifying group they were saddled with, but maybe they were just the least mediocre of the bunch. Germany will certainly take Croatia down, and Austria should have no problem with what seems to be a impotent Poland. So, my original pick of Germany and Croatia going through has to be a bit adjusted. Germany and Austria. Which is fantastic to Austria. Personally, I want to see Germany go as far as possible. I think if they make it through as the top side in their group, they should have no real problem with Turkey. 

Group C. 

Group of death? What does that mean, exactly? France never starts a tourney hot, and Italy is one of the most overrated sides in a LONG time. I'd argue that Italy is more overrated than Spain (or England if they were in it) usually is. In my mind, the big match of the World Cup was NOT the final. It was the amazing display that France put on against Brazil. Anyway, I digress. The drubbing of Italy by the Netherlands really came as no surprise. They're a faster team, more stylish, less tempermental. And if Van Nistelrooy is on, it's over. But I gotta admit, I had the Dutch going home after this round. So, it is with great humility that I rethink that, and put them up top. With France in boring mode, I have a feeling that a second victory against the Gauls will secure them a berth. Romania will probably surprise us and draw with a frustrated Italy. At least that's how I see it. But after that, I still don't know. I have to go for France. So, Netherlands and France. But I do have a weakness for the Romanians. They've been through a lot. They deserve a break.

Group D. 

What the hell is wrong with the Greeks? Wow, even Arsenal fans have left the whole 1-0 stubborn victory to the past. Watching Greece play today was like what I do when I've got a slim lead in FIFA 07 and a few minutes left and so I just start passing between my back four for half an hour. Thank god the Swedes got it going. What a strike by Ibrahimovich. Holy goal of the week. So far. Poor Russia. No, there's really no hope for them, but, like Romania, I've got a weak spot in my heart for them. They've been through a lot too. But, Spain looks like they may finally live up to expectations. I don't think they could compete with the Portuguese, and I think against the Germans it would end up just being a big stalemate, but they will probably make it pretty far this month. So, Spain and the Swedes. I'd be happy to see either side win it all. 

From there, I see it like this:

Portugal v. Austria - Portugal an easy winner.

Germany v. Turkey - Germany wins in extra time after 90 mins. of stalemate

Netherlands v. Sweden - This one will be a good one. Two good forward moving sides. But in the end, the Dutch will take it in a game filled with goals.

Spain v. France - Spain. They want a little respect, and a little revenge.

Next Round:

Portugal v. Germany - Germany won't be able to keep up. Portugal.

Netherlands v. Spain. - This could be the match of the tournament. I want to say the Netherlands, but they always seem to implode. So, Spain it is, going through for an all-Iberian final

Final:

Portugal v. Spain. Please, for the love of all that is holy, no penalty shoot out. Torres and Villa against the speed and confidence of Ronaldo should prove to be a thrilling match, ending in a 4-3 victory to the Spaniards. This is me going out on a limb. My first thought was Portugal. But after seeing the display the Spanish put on, it's gotta be Spain.

So, there it is. Let's see how I do. I should have put money down on Italy winning the World Cup in 2006. I picked them a week before the tourney. Oh, well...

That's my life right now. I write, watch football, and occasionally read. 

Oh. By the way, we're moving. Goodbye Texas. Hello, St. Paul. More on that some other time.

!

Let's Talk Hockey, Eh?

(I would like to start here by making a comment as to how funny it is what we come up with in our minds as to what to put in our personal blogs. There are a handful of things I have always wanted to wax rhapsodic about here, on this forum, but my horrible self awareness and martyr complex, iced with a sugary layer of low self esteem always seems to trump my devil-may-care narcissistic side, resulting in boring posts about boring things. For instance, I have an entire post laid out in my head which details my theory that the musical career of Opeth can be studied as if it were an Enlglish Football club, another -- a series, actually -- that discusses all of the bands I have been obsessed with or loved dearly in my lifetime and why, and a few others that border on the way too personal -- but I don't care. So, it is with great pleasure that I push aside my fears of being called out for being a pointless overly personal blogger who rants about nothing worth caring about, and bring you a discussion on... Wait for it... Hockey! Zing!)

Last night I had the rare pleasure of watching the ENTIRE 6 and a half period Game 6 between the Dallas Stars and the San Jose Sharks. For those who know that I grew up in (so-called) Hockeytown (I am sure there is a registered trademark on that contraction) -- that is to say, Detroit -- it may seem weird that I would even care about either team. Well, wrong. In fact, I consider myself a Stars fan. And -- while he may be playing in Sweden now, and took a turn at Toronto and Florida before heading overseas -- it's all thanks to Eddie Belfour.

Eddie? Really? Yeah. Eddie. See, back in the summer of 1995, I was living off campus in my own apartment (with roommates, of course -- this was college) and spending evenings re-discovering my enjoyment of watching sports (Mind you, I've never come back around to getting into basketball or baseball on television.) and actually caring about it. It was the Western Conference Finals, Chicago Blackhawks against the Detroit Red Wings. Now, back then, I wasn't very versed in hockey, be it regarding rules, or players, or styles, or anything. I knew some big names, like Jagr, Hextall, and Messier, but for the most part all I really knew was that the closest team to me was always an almost-ran, stalling in the playoffs, and led by Steve Yzerman. Oh, and they had Sergei Federov. But, for some reason, perhaps the influence of Smitty (my roommate and friend) I got addicted to hockey during that series. The games were stressing us both out. We were rooting for the Wings, and amazed at the overtime heroics of Ed Belfour, who played in goal for Chicago. Watching him play the way he did solidified it. I was a hockey fan, but most importantly, I was an Ed Belfour fan. (And, at the time, I was a Red Wings supporter all the way.)

Eddie would move to San Jose, and then to Dallas. At Dallas, Belfour joined a team that was definitely a contender, albeit an outside chance at best -- especially with Detroit in the midst of their most dominating period in a LONG time -- with stars like Zubov and Modano (a Detroit-area guy, I have to add). So, along with some personal shit that went down in 1998, I became a Stars fan. I had to leave the Wings behind. Why? They were my local team, a winner, and had a great pedigree! Original Six! Dallas? Hockey in Texas? They moved the team from Minnesota, for god's sake! Well, let's just say that the decision to start hating the Wings was rooted in the personal upheavals that year, in addition to my distaste for perennial winners. It's a big part of why I can't stand Manchester United. Seriously.

Anyway, Dallas made it through to the Western Conference Championships in 1998. And I got to go to one of the games at Joe Louis. Thanks to Pops for making that happen. My only regret (Yes, Dallas lost, but I got to see Eddie play 'live' and it was a good game overall) was that I didn't wear my Stars (official, tie down and all) jersey to the game. 14th or so row, black Stars jersey! What a chance I blew. Probably could have gotten on TV. I digress. So, the Wings went on to repeat that year against Washington, and I couldn't care less.

The following year, I was lucky enough to have a friend let me watch the Cup winning overtime game against Buffalo that won the Stars the Championship. I sat inches in front of the TV in that empty apartment stressed out, loving every second of it all. I think that's part of the magic of games like football and hockey. It's that unease and tension that keeps you from going passive about the competition until the very end. It's like a drug.

Perhaps it was the discovery of cycling the following year, or just some undetermined changes, or perhaps caring way too much about football from then on out, hockey and the Stars kind of faded from my radar. Belfour left Dallas, eventually, but I -- for some damn reason -- kept caring about them, and always looking to see how they were doing each season before looking or caring about any other team, even Torono, where Eddie had gone. I was stuck in Dallas. Ironic that I would eventually live close enough (In Texas, three hours away from a place is close.) to excuse and qualify my support for the Stars.

But, I still focused on other things. It's not easy to get into hockey when you don't get CBC coverage, and it's 90 degrees in April.

And then, this year happened. For some damn reason, I started watching the playoffs. I'm damn sure it wasn't the coverage of Versus (although I do like the fact that they show TSN coverage from time to time), but I do know that the relative lack of recently added teams to the league helped. While the Stars may go out, I'm perfectly okay with either the Flyers, Penguins, or Wings winning the Cup. Anaheim? Tampa Bay? Sheesh. Whatever.

So, there I was last night, watching -- all anxious and stressed out in my Stars jersey -- more than two hockey games in one, more than a hundred blocked and saved shots in a 2-1 victory -- and series capper -- for the Stars. Now, they face the Wings in the Conference Championships. And with Marty Turco and his performance last night, it might just be a good series. (I'll save my opinions on the styles of play and how they might measure against one another until after the series starts.) I guess I don't really have a point at the end of all of this, I could say something poetic or dramatic, but I won't go down that road.

I will say this: I'm glad that I'm hooked on hockey this year. It may not last, and I may not care next year. But, it's been nice to be interested in something that I once loved wholly, that I let get tainted by outside crap. Now it's clean. It's my little thing this month, and when it's over, it will still be mine. And then, I'll get all worked up and stressed (not as much without f-in England not playing) watching the European Championships instead of getting work done.

Go Stars!

You Know What?

I don't think it's too much to ask that if I want to listen to music on my iTunes that I shouldn't have to be bombarded with every two bit piece of crap metalcore band's crappy music every time I do research for bios on said bands. Perhaps, just maybe, I can go to a band's website and CHOOSE whether or not I want to listen to their music. Jesus H. Christ.

I hate the fact that if I have to go to myspace to get a bio on a band I have to wait for the player to load so I can shut the damn thing off. I get really annoyed that when I go to official band or label sites, they have some hidden player SOMEWHERE on their stupidly difficult -- and ironic! -- website that blasts the latest sounds from a bunch of dumb kids who still hate mom and dad.

If there is some way that I can run iTunes and shut the damn sound off of Safari (at all times) please let me know. I'm about to strangle the next angry tattooed twentysomething whining about his mom or some girl or god or what-not.

I know you think you're band is going to change the world, and will save your doomed soul from eternal sad-sacked-ness, but... I am trying to listen to some good music. So... Shut UP!

Crashing All Around Me

There is a part of me that just wants to run. Go for my daily run, listen to some good music, enjoy a good cup of coffee, a nice meal, and read a good book. Take a day and ride my bike, drift off in my daydreams under the open window. Grow vegetables, play with the cats, watch a football match. Take in a walk, and do nothing.

There is another part of me that is filled with regret and (near) frustrating rage at how I screwed it all up for myself. It's the same part that doesn't want my life to be meaningless and filled with idle pursuits. It's the part of me that wants to DO something. Anything. To have a career or a calling. To find myself making a difference, no matter the size of that difference. Big or small. One person or millions. That person in me wants to let this gig go, and step into something that I know I can do, and something that will provide for me and mine so I don't have to worry anymore. Worry about the future, worry about children in that future, worry about never seeing Europe again.

I want to fall apart right now. I want to break down. These are the times when I feel useless. I'm relatively lucky, but so... Unfettered that it's precarious at best. I have made so many improvements, yet I feel so lost. I have so much in most of my life, but have voids that are deep and vast in other parts.

I don't know what I want, and I don't know how I'd go about doing it anyhow.

I am actually scared to death over all of it.