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There's a new commercial that's flooded all of my favorite channels for the Teeter Hang Ups Inversion System. It's basically this pivoting table that you strap your ankles in and then lean back and hang upside down. I used to use one in my yoga class in college and always loved the way it made my back feel. So I went to the Teeter website. $400. Give me a fucking break. I was relaying this story to a coworker as we walked around Wal-Mart on a lunch break and decided to go look and see if they had an inversion tables. And they did! Gold's Gym brand for about a 4th of the cost. So I bought it.

It took like 4 hours to put together. And it comes with a chain so that you can limit the angle that you can fall back to. The manual suggested limiting it to around 15° to start out with until your body gradually gets used to being inverted. But I was like fuck that I wanna go all the way. So no chain. I got on, threw my arms back, passed the pivot point of balance and flipped in one swift motion 180° until i hit the cross support bar and then hung there unable to get up. I was terrified, laughing hysterically, and fighting the rush of blood to my head all at once. I screamed to Daniel and he came and rescued me. Only to decide he wanted to try it himself and suffered the same fate.

But now I'm gradually lengthening the chain and I really like what it does. It just feels so good. I wish the ankle supports were more comfortable though because that's what really limits the amount of time I can spend in it. My feet go numb and my ankles hurt. I may come up with my own solution. More expensive models have boots you wear and I can probably make some.

Oh, in other news, the Allistralian and her fiancee Dom are keeping a travel blog of their 13 month trip around the world. And they asked me to set up their blog for them since mine is so kick ass. And I didn't want to tell you all about it until it was done ... and I'm not sure it is ... but it's close enough. So go check out whileyouwereworking.com.

Today we're going on The Walk with Hanson and then to the concert tonight. We might get to meet em. Mmmbop!

You know how sometimes I give there really great suggestions for how to improve your life? And usually they involve something you should be buying if you aren't already? Well, I've got another one for you.

It has recently come to my attention that many of you have never eaten a mango. And I'm here to tell you that a fresh mango is the most delicious thing you can possibly put in your mouth. It is by far my favorite fruit. I'm in Houston right now at my brother Stephen's house and I bought a couple mangos for us to enjoy. g*d diddly damn they are good. Anyway, here's a picture in case you aren't familiar with what a mango even looks like. Go buy one and cut it up and eat it. Just watch out for the massive lima bean that you will find inside. I don't think you can eat those.

So I came to Houston on Wednesday for work and then decided to stay and visit my brother and his family. It's been really fun. I worked from his house Thursday and Friday. If you consider bike rides to the park work. Hanging out with Kaylyn and Will has been pretty fun. Plus, it makes you really thankful for all the things you don't have in your life. Namely children. I kind of feel about children like I do about dogs. I like them, but I like them better when they belong to someone else and you can just come over occasionally and play with them, but then get rid of them when they poop.

I'm going home tomorrow. This was a nice little visit. I needed a change, my job has fallen into a bit of a rut again. I don't see anything exciting coming on the horizon, so I'm just going to have to rededicate myself to my new attitude towards work. I think if I got back into yoga, I would feel better all around, so I'm going to look into that when i get home.

Whelp, everyone else in this house is asleep, so I guess I'm going to do the same until the early morning shit fits begin. Ciao.

So Thursday was my birthday. I was pretty vigilant with my vow after last year's debacle to not make a big deal about it. Thanks to everyone who remembered and sent me a message or called. I worked on my birthday but took this Friday off because I was pretty sure I was gonna be drunk.

I decided that all I really wanted to do was sit on the TV and watch some beers. So when I got home from work, I tidied up a bit, cooked a frozen pizza and got down to drinking. Brett Sabulous had kept his plans tentative just in case I was doing something, and decided to come join me in my quest. So we sat on the TV together and watched a lot of beers. When Daniel got home, we moved the party down there and continued drinking. It was so much fun. So low key. So much more my speed.

Daniel got me a really nice Bulova wall clock for over my TV. That brings my clock total to 6 now. That's almost one clock per 100 square feet of my apartment. I am obsessed with knowing what time it is. This is the only nice clock I have though. It looks pretty smart over my new TV stand. I need to hang it just a smidge higher but I couldn't reach, so it's temporary now. Brett got me a gift certificate to Face, this men's salon in uptown. I'd never heard of it but their menu was quite impressive. I'm going to go get a real shave. I have ALWAYS wanted to do that. Hot towels, hot lathers, straight bladed razors. Omg, I can't wait. My parents got me a month of yoga. I really want to try out this place called Dahn Yoga over on Beltline. I don't know what brain respiration is but I'm soon going to find out.

So everything went just swimmingly this year. Unfortunately, speaking of swimmingly, Tuna is in bad shape. He's been really lethargic lately, so this morning I got online and researched his condition. He is showing every symptom of disease. I am going to get a heater for his tank since the temperature should be between 74 and 78 degress Fahrenheit, and if you've ever been to my refrigerated apartment, you know it's always colder than that. I'm about to quarantine him, clean his tank, and see if we can't revive him. But he's 2 years and 3 months old now, so I'm not sure how much longer he'll be with us. I'll keep you updated on his condition. Remember him in your prayers to Chuck Norris. Peace out, have-nots.

I went out again last night despite vowing that I never would. Once again, I was rather annoyed by the drunk people and left early. You don't have to be drunk to have fun in a club, but I firmly believe you need a couple drinks just to take the edge off of what is an overwhelmingly obnoxious situation. I mean, look at it objectively. It's dimly lit except for a few neon and strobe lights, the music is so loud that conversation is virtually impossible, and people are packed in and stumbling over each other. You're going to want to have a few beers if you're going to last the whole night.

The thought had occured to me after Febrehabruary that I might invent Marehabch and Aprehabil. By the time I hit May, I would have no choice but to resume drinking until Septemberehab, and that's just not clever. Even though Febrehabruary was a great success and one of the best months of my life (I'll have a final tally for you when it's truly over) I don't feel the need to repeat it immediately. This could become a yearly ritual for me, though. If I've learned anything from a month of sobriety, and I like to think that I haven't, it's that drinking isn't bad or wrong, but moderation is key. In this spirit, I bought myself a nice bottle of wine to drink on Tuesday. I'm fucking retarded.

I don't think I ever announced this, but I am incorporating wine bottles into the decoration of my kitchen. If any of you drink wine often, or just happen to have an occasional bottle lying around, save it for me because I could use about 20 empty bottles, and that will take me DAYS to accumulate. Thanks.

Well, I think its just about time for me to go cook a dry chicken breast while living vicariously through Contessa With Her Shoes Off. Then I'll drink a few gallons of water so I can sweat it out in yoga. I am so v. busy and important. Check you skillets later.

Having a roommate is so good for my productivity. Instead of sitting around alone with my computer on my lap waiting for someone to IM me, I've been doing shit. I no longer accompany Andy to 24 Hour Fitness, but he does give me a run down of what to do at my gym every day and then makes sure that I go. He's also controlling my diet somewhat. I never realized how much crap I eat until I had someone constantly pointing it out to me. I'm really pushing to shed what additional pounds I can before Febrehabruary is over so I can make my success story that much more compelling. Let's just say, I think you'll all be proud of my fat ass.

I redid Tuna's tank the other night. I was in the mood to spend money and PetsMart was right next to Sally's so I dropped in and perused their selection. I got rid of his rainbow castle that Marshall gave me and replaced it with this more natural looking rock. It's got some small plants and a few big shrooms growing out of it. I also put in some grass along the bottom. It looks sooooo much nicer now. I think Tuna likes it too. I'll take a picture of it for you just as soon as I get my laptop back from Best Buy. Ohhh yeah, I took it to Best Buy this morning after I went to yoga and before I went to work out. It should be back in 7-10 business days and then we will be back in action, kids. I can't wait.

Andy also convinced me to get a tanning membership with him. Well, I say "convinced" but really he just said, "Hey, let's go tan" and I said, "Rrrrrokay." I learned on the History Channel that long, long ago, women would powder their skin in an attempt to look more pale. They did this because only the wretched poor serfs (today's modern day retail employees) had to work outside and get tan. A true sign of affluence was pale white skin. I had adopted this mentality up until recently. I'll never be dark, but I suppose it would be nice to be human-colored.

Speaking of modern day retail employees, I am so sick of boys who brag about working at Abercrombie or Hollister. So I will leave you today with a little rule for you all to remember, in case you ever feel special about your mall job: If you fold clothes that are not your own, you are a servant.

Bonsoir, mes amis! Wie geht es ihnen? Jag hoppa det du er all gör brunn. This past week I bought CDs for French, German and Swedish so I could get a head start on learning all the languages I'll need during my European adventure. I already speak German, and Swedish is (from what I know thus far) a lot like it. So really, I'm just trying to pick up some basic French phrases to get a hotel room and a menu. Good times, good times. You don't want to ride in the car with me though. It's totally annoying. But I should be quadri-lingual by April.

This weekend I went to a party at Adam's house up in Denton. Good christ, Denton is far away. It was a pretty big milestone for me because it was the first time I've subjected myself to some good old fashioned binge drinking that I know and love so much without partaking. They were all downing cheap beers and chain smoking and I wanted to participate sooo bad, but I resisted. And not only did I stay clean, but I had a really good time hanging out and getting to know people I'd never met before. Maybe I do still have social skills, and I just never let myself realize it.

This is off topic, but I have to ask. What the hell is up with fat, old men in the gym locker rooms? It's like they refuse to put some fucking clothes on. I guess their wives won't let them walk around naked at home so they do it at the gym? It is so weird. If you're a fat old man who reads my webpage and walks around naked in locker rooms, please fill me in cause you're all making me nauseous.

Speaking of the gym, if things continue to go as well as they have with Febrehabruary, I plan on partying March 1st and then going right back to my sober ways. I am saving so much money and losing so much weight. I could never have fathomed that it would go this well.

Ryan S■■■ sent me an article about people being fired from their jobs based on what they say in their blogs. It kind of put the fear of g*d in me. My webpage is laden with material that should rightfully lead to my termination. I think I'm going to go through and hide some of the entries for the time being while I figure this out. In the meantime, I'm going to refrain from discussing work explicitly and avoid mentioning any projects I'm working on by name if I do. Hope it doesn't leave you all wanting.

Now, I am still drenched in sweat from yoga, so it is time to showah. Peace, you have-nots.

Yoga yesterday was wonderful. It was just me and three foreign middle-aged women, on account that the class was during the Super Bull. I was sweating rather profusely, as it is hot yoga, and since there were very few people there (and the male instructor is essentially nude already) I decided to take my shirt off. Now, you all KNOW how much I hate to toot my own horn, but I just wanted to share with you that while I am still morbidly obese, my working out has begun to spring the roots of progress into my mounds of fatty flesh. I think I'm starting to improve, and that is such good incentive to keep going, since my workout partner has disappeared for the past 2 weeks and has vowed to disappear at least one more. I still haven't missed a day though. Toot! Toot!

So far so good on the sobriety experiment. The only problem is that I've become increasingly irritable. I blame that more on the cigarettes than anything. I just don't like it when people try to tell me what Febrehabruary is. I made the fucking rules for me, for me to follow, not for you to assess. I am slowly withdrawing to protect my original decree of 28 days of no drinking. I'm afraid that by the end of this, I will have no friends. But I will persevere. Little things have just been annoying me more than they normally would.

It's like when somebody tells you that going from 2 packs of cigarettes a day down to a pack a week "doesn't count." And then pokes you... repeatedly....

But I did have a wonderfully productive weekend. Waking up at 10 feeling fully refreshed and ready to tackle the day was a welcome respite. And feeling tired on Saturday night meant that I curled up in my PJs with my laptop, when normally I would have feel obligated to go out. So there is good associated with the whole thing. I talked to AllieD last night, and asked her how Jamey did it. Jamey, her squeeze, gave up alcohol for 2004. The whole fucking year. He said I would be done with my experiment long before the hurt went away. So that was encouraging.

You'll notice I also have scads more time to update my webpage. I should be at Studio Movie Grill right now, but instead I think I'll go to the gym. Peace out, have-nots!

Last night I had a dream that prom was that night. Somehow I had managed to completely forget about the entire gala. Looking back, maybe it was because I haven't been in high school for damn near six years, but try explaining that to my subconscious. I hastily got ready and went to the dance stag. Open bar, dude! I rationalized with myself that since it was prom, and prom is a big deal, it would be okay if I had one drink. Which led to another, and then another, and then another. As I sat outside enjoying my buzz and finishing off my last cigarette, I contemplated how I was going to justify this transgression to you, my readers -- whether or not I would reset my counter, but knowing ultimately that I had to.

G*d damnit, my brain is starting to wonder where the alcohol is, and it is not going to be happy when it doesn't get it any time soon. The other fun part of my dream is that Yale Chris was there. But he was with his new boyfriend, which in and of itself was not the problem, except that the new boyfriend was his identical twin, and they were dressed the same. And to top it all off, they were doing LSD from a stamp on this other boy's hand since all of his friends from the University of Wisconsin (???) had joined him at Plano's prom. He tried to get me to lick his hand, but I wouldn't. At least I still have SOME integrity in my dreams.

Yesterday somebody asked me if I was going to watch the Super Bull and I got all up on my high horse and was like, "Derrrr, the Super Bull was last week." Whoopsadaisy! Isn't this thing always in the last week of January? It is already fucking Febrehabruary. Get on the ball (no pun intended). So now I'm hoping somebody today will ask me if I'm watching the Super Bull because now I can say, "NO, but I am watching the Supper Bowl!" The Food Network is having a marathon during the silly little game of nothing but Paula Dean. G*d, I love her. How do you like that massage, Mr. Turkey? So my day is full.

And since I am decided NOT hungover this morning, which is odd for a Sunday, I am definitely going to make it to yoga today, which is good news. Then it's on to face a week at work having had no release this weekend. Wish me luck.

I apologize for my recent absence from the internet, but I assure you, I have been completely powerless. That is to say that my power cord still does not fit in my computer. For some reason, when I got home from work today (at 3:30 -- RAWK) the charge light was on and I was fully charged. I haven't even touched the thing all weekend, so that was weird, but welcome. I'm going to have to take the ol' porn player to Best Buy and have them ship it off to their service department. Hopefully they can fix it and hopefully its under warranty.

I finally went to a yoga school yesterday. I found this Addison Yoga place right by my apartment. They do hot yoga. Hot yoga is just like regular yoga, but its hot. Like really hot. They keep the room at about 100 degrees the entire time. I sweat my ass off. But I really, really liked it. It's only 15 bucks per class, or 12 if you buy a pass. I will probably do this at least once a weekend. I've already drummed up some interest from Lil Jarrod to join me. I think everyone should be doing this, it was so choice.

Today marks the first day of my 5-a-week workout schedule. I'd been going at least 4 times a week, sometimes more, up until the holidays and then I totally fell off. But my friend Greg from New York, he's kind of weird, and he signed up at my gym. So now I have a workout buddy. We both made it perfectly clear that we didn't want to work out together, though. We just want to carpool to the gym in order to motivate each other to stick with it. This is gonna be so great. The next time I show myself in public, I'm gonna be so hot. And by 'hot' I mean that my biceps are gonna be as big as my beer gut.

I'm not sure when I'll be able to address you all again. Thanks for your patience while we struggle through this predicament together. I am gonna send my computer off on Saturday so if I happen to wake up fully charged, I'll update before I let it go. Otherwise, I'll just have to scrounge around and see whose computer I can use. I really wanted to be able to keep you all up to date on my Frehabruary experiment. (I just now came up with that name, I kinda like it.) It's coming up so fast. I can't wait. Oh, and all my expenses got sorted out including the rat bastards at the Velvet Hookah. The owner called and apologized and offered me free drinks. Anyone wanna go?

Oh, and Raul, you should call me since you're impossible to get a hold of. I am still fully expecting you to come up the last weekend in January for my alcoholic swansong. The rest of you, refrain from calling, I get so annoyed when my phone rings. Thaaaaanks.

I normally wouldn't admit to this, but I got stood up tonight. The only reason I'm sharing this with you is because none of you will ever believe that I just decided to stay home and sober of my own accord. I wanted to meet at 8 for dinner, but he had to work until 10. Okay, that's kind of late, but no worries. So I wait until 10. Then I wait until 11, when I call him. He said he would call me RIGHT back, so I wait until midnight and now I've been stood up and it's too late to make plans with somebody else. I have a few options at this point. I'm all dressed and the hair is did, so I can go out to the bars alone and hope to find somebody I know. I can stay home and clean like I desperately need to do. Or I can go to the gym and work off a little steam.

Yay for 24 hour gyms! I had the best time there having the entire facility to myself. There are just things you can do when you're alone that you won't do when a bunch of people are around. First, I took over the entire studio and put my yoga mat smack dab in the middle of the room and did yoga for about 45 minutes. It felt so good. I haven't taken the time to do it right in so, so long. I don't want to do that when a bunch of people are walking around and would be watching me.

Then I went and lifted a few weights. But I decided to see if I could do the bench press with free weights. This is something else you can't do when all the meat heads and gym bunnies are lumbering around. The last thing I want is someone to have to help me pick the empty bar up off of my neck. I am happy to report, dear viewers, that I benched the bar PLUS 20 lbs. Oh yeah. Feel these pecs.

The best part of the night was when I decided to go downstairs and play basketball. Oh yeah, I said basketball. I don't think I've touched a basketball in over a decade, but there was no one around. Hahaha, I was hilariously BAD at it. I probably played for about 30 minutes (until the girl came in to sweep and I got embarassed) and I think I made maybe 3 shots the entire time. This is no surprise to me, I've always sucked at basketball. When I was younger, my dad used to stand on the sidelines and point which direction I should be running, so I would appear to have some semblance of an idea what I was doing. I never made a basket during a game either. But I figured that I'm a lot taller now so maybe I'd be a little better, but that was not the case. I mean, granted I wasn't attempting layups or short shots, but I wasn't doing like Emmit Smith shit either.

It reminded me so much of other sports blunders I've had in my life. I am genetically pre-programmed to suck at sports, so I don't feel bad. I find it pretty amusing. One time my baseball coach got fed up with my batting skills being non-existant so he told me to hit the batting cages over the weekend. My mom paid for me to get 60 pitches. That's 60 balls. 60 individual chances to make contact with a ball thrown by an automated machine in the same spot at the same speed. And I completely whiffed 60 times in a row. Talk about demoralizing.

The night ended with me being brave enough to step onto the scale. I've gained 7 lbs since I started working and officially weigh the most I have ever weighed in my life. Okay, I'm still 8 lbs below my target weight, but I'm perrty sherr that this isn't muscle mass I've gained. Something will have to be done about this asap.

So there's my pathetic night. I hope everyone else drank twice as much to make up for me. Lastly, congrats to Steve the diver who just graduated from Mary Land University. He's talking to me right now and is gonna be home on Wednesday. So that should be fun. Laaaaaaaaaaaate!

I finally decided to name my fish. I think it's safe to say that he is going to survive for the long haul. Anyway, his name is Tuna. I'd be lying if I said that the can of StarKist in his tank wasn't an inspiration. Anyway, I think it's a fitting name and its a relief to finally have named him.

This week has been alternating between really fun and really stressful. The documentation is going well. I can really churn this shit out like you wouldn't believe. Twenty pages in just under eight hours? Gimme a break. I'm a machine, and if I keep this up I'll be doing okay. Not ahead of schedule or anything, but just okay. Last night I went over to my new neighbor Marshall's apartment and drank beers and 'gina juice with him and Thommi. It is too fun having him live so close now as opposed to 20 minutes away. A true improvement.

I had yoga yesterday. She had promised that she was going to teach us all some new poses that day so I showed up ready to go. Apparently she had changed her mind and was just handing out grades and letting people leave. I had no intention of leaving. I paid to do yoga and I was gonna do some. I ended up being the only person to stay. After a little warm up, we just kind of started trying to out-yoga each other. We can both do the scorpion now that she's been working on it all semester in an effort to match my abilities, so that didn't work. Then we started doing all these fucked up headstands. Like inverting and then going into the lotus with our feet, or doing the splits upside down and stuff. It was too fun. Then she wanted to know if I could do a handstand, which I'd never done before. So now I can totally flip myself completely over ... and then I trumped her by doing a couple of inverted Nicholas-Cage-in-Con-Air pushups. Boo yah.

So that was ridiculously fun, I'm sorry it had to end. Then I went and got a pep-talk from the cafeteria lady who was giving me advice on what to do after graduation. Apparently she hadn't read my last post. I'm not sure why. This weekend I am trying to avoid going out and just work on a paper, but keeping me away from a night of drinking is like ... um ... keeping an alcoholic away from alcohol. Is that even a simile? Whatever, SHUT UP! Czech you skillets later.

Hey, I just wanted to drop you all a quick line to let you know that I'm alive. I've only recently realized the magnitude of what's left to do before the end of this semester -- in reality, within the next 7 days. I am basically going to be out of commission for the entire time, and then as soon as that's done it'll be time for finals and then graduation.

Let me give you all a piece of etiquette when dealing with a graduating senior. Every last person you talk to and mention graduation asks you, "So WhAt'S tHe PLaN fOr AfTeR yOu GrAdUaTe? GoT a JoB?! DerRrRrRr!" If a graduating senior does not offer up that information to you, then don't try to extract it from them. There's a chance, a good chance, that they don't fucking know what they're going to do. And NO, they don't have a job, so fuck off. This is all just hypothetical, of course.

I have several plans. I could live with my brother temporarily in Houston and hope to find a job there before his daughter is born and I have to be out of the house. I could move back home and leisurely search for a job in Dallas, and if I get one either get my own apt, or I just IMed Ryan S■■■ last night about moving in with him. I could move to OKC with my sister just to kinda get away from it all and see if I can't nab a job around there. I could stay in College Station for the summer looking for work to just party one last time before really applying myself to the search. I might give my other brother who lives in California and works for Intel my resume, and see if that won't work, but that would mean moving to Cali, Colorado or AZ. My only other idea is to cut myself to see how much it bleeds.

Today I am actually going to class. The fuckheads in my class decided on a take-home final while I wasn't around. Take-home finals are so much harder than real ones and are certainly more difficult than oral exams. I have to go get that final. Then I have to go to my last day of yoga ... tear. Then its directly to the greenhouse to meet with my team. I might change my oil first since that's highway driving, and I might stop by Best Buy to see if I can get a new battery since it is REALLY annoying that my laptop shuts off if you even jiggle the power cord. Like I said, so much to do.

Went to IHOP late last night to break my diet. Stuffed french toast was worth every carb. Went to bed watching Waking Life. Good flick. Hard to watch when dozing off at 3:00am. It's a thinking movie, not a drinking movie. Woke up with no cough, good news. Woke up (early, as you can see) with pain in neck and shoulders so intense that sleep is not an option. A hot bath did not alleviate any discomfort. Perhaps some yoga will help. Otherwise agony continues. Hope you have fun in church today, suckers.

Ahh, what a week this has been. I haven't been to class all week. I place the blame squarely on jesus. I did make it to yoga today though, because as you all know, I do not miss yoga for any reason. Now I'm back on my signiture couch vegging out. I'm watching T3 again. I watched it last night with Raul, Tommy and David, but we didn't really pay attention. It has been out from Blockbuster for SO long now, but it's on Tommy's account so no worries here. I really should get it back at some point. We also watched Circuit. Believe it or not, I didn't like this movie despite the title. There wasn't one integrated circuit, resistive network, soldering iron, or pc board in the entire movie.

Today after yoga this girl came up to me and said, 'Hey do you ever hang out at Revolutions.' And by god, I do. She said she recognized my hair from the other weekend and wanted to tell me that she liked it. I hawked it today for the first time since the bleach incident. I've been kind of scared to put a flat iron to it in fear that it would just melt off.

Since the incident I've been doing just about everything I can to get my hair back to ... well, hair status. First I bought some shampoo and conditioner specifically designed for bleached, fried hair. That's helping a little bit. Then I did a protein pack on it, that was really good, I might need to buy a couple more of those. Finally, I got some Infusium leave in conditioner. All of this together, Pesci willing, will give me back the hair I once had. Wish me luck, have-nots. Back to T3...

I honestly never really thought that I had a problem with spending money. I always just figured I could kind of stop whenever I needed to. Wrong! Now that I am using my checking account for everything (I cut my beloved credit card into 3 pieces ... I have one, Allison has one, and Tommy has one) and have an opporitunity to watch the expenditures accumulate, I realize just how ridiculous my spending habits are. This weekend alone I managed to spend 200 dollars ... and I have nothing to show for it. That's like almost a pair of pants I could have had, blown away on food and booze. Alas, I disciplined myself by going to Pier 1 and buying the coolest little tea candle holder. I need some ambience for when I yogate.

Although I have to admit that all the money I spent this weekend was well worth it because I was joined by my old, dear friend, Edward S■■■■■. I haven't seen him in a couple of years, but the fact that we've known each other for roughly 15 years allows for such gaps. He came in on Saturday evening, we ran around buying booze and food, and then headed to Tommy's for a pre-party. The pre-party ended up being attended by Tommy, Edward and I, so it wasn't much of a party. Then we went to Halo and drank a whole bunch. Edward's like in medical school or something, so he's not used to doing this every night like we do. But I think he had fun. The after-party at Tommy's was out of control ... I heard the cops came around 5:30 and told everyone to leave. Whateeeeever. The next afternoon, we dragged out of bed, Edward went back to Houston, and I took a nap.

I put my John Denver video on while I was sleeping and when I dozed off, the tape ended, rewound automatically and then the VCR shut off. As it turned out, when the VCR shut off, there was all this stuff about a SuperBull or something. Who woulda thought. I wanted to make some Wolf Sauce, a recipe for queso I got from BreakfastParade, so I went to the decimated grocery store, bought some ingredients and then took the crockpot over to Tommy's. James came over and we all ate the Wolf Sauce, which was delicious, but I forgot to turn off the crockpot so by the time we checked, the cheese was blackened and disgusting. So much for leftovers. I would comment on the game, but the portions of it that we did watch, I pretty much slept through. I don't really even like basketball, as most of you know.

On a final note, I've decided that I'm not going to answer my phone anymore. I have begged. I have pleaded. I have harangued, but people still call me just to see whats up and try to hold my attention for long phone conversations. Since nothing I can do can make you all stop, and nothing you can do can keep me from feeling like ants are crawling out my eyes if the conversation lasts more than 30 seconds, this is the only viable solution. Just leave me a voicemail and I'll call you right back. That way I can see what you want before hand. And a "Hey its me, call me back" doesn't count. Thats what a missed call means. Sorry to have to do this. Talk to you all later (MAYBE HA).

Pertinent information for everyone to know? Let's see. I backed into my neighbor in the parking lot. Or we backed into each other, rather. Her name is Erin. She was a delightful girl with a scratched up, cracked bumper. I bought the Nelly Fruit-ado CD because I want to be like Marshall. I saw Flock of Seagulls reunite. They weren't as good as they used to be and their hair is nowhere near its former radness. I almost went out like that the other night. Ryan S■■■ gets to meet Cameron F■■■ in 4 weeks and I am jealous. Tommy and I started working out, my chest and triceps are very sore. And I haven't smoked in three days. I lost my job at the space center, damn politics. But I already scored a new profession in the web design business once I learn how to do what these rich old men want. My new songs of the day all fucking rawk. I talked to Steve-o last night for the first time in months. He works at Central Market in Austin and has a mohawk. My professor sent out an email to have an impromptu class period today. Is he allowed to do that? I'm already tired of school even though I've only been to about 1.5 total hours of class. I can't stay awake for more than 30 minutes. My wonderful yoga teacher from last semester forced me back into her class. She is lovely. Peace, I'm outta here.

Thanks for all the wonderful comments on the scorpion. I told my yoga teacher about it and she said I should join the Yoga Center of College Station, and I think I'm going to. They do more advanced stuff ... because I'm good at something besides drinking now. Speaking of, I managed to get shit faced in the span of like 40 minutes last night. I rule. Marshall probably thinks I'm psychotic. Oh well, he'd be mostly right.

I don't know what made me think of this, but I thought I would share with you all the story of the first time I got on the internet. Well, actually its the second. The first time I got on the internet me and my brother Stephen went to go see if there was a sex.com. Sure as hell enough, there was. Good thing somebody thought of it. But the story...

The first time I ever sat down at a computer and got on AOL, back when I was known as Vidster007, I went into a random chat room. And I had no idea what any acronyms were or anything. I probably only typed like 30 wpm. And someone said, "hey anyone in pa?" And I had no idea what that meant, so I said, "i'm in pa." And an instant message popped up and they said, "where in pa," which I then figured out meant Pennsylvania. So I responded, "Nunya." And they said, "where is that?" And I said, "Nunya bidness." And they said, "well fuck you." And I laughed, and immediately knew that I liked this internet thing.

Last night I was sitting on the couch, as usual, watching FoodTV, as usual, and chatting with a few friends, as usual. My computer blue screened out of nowhere and started dumping physical memory, as it has done a few times in the past. No big deal. I stood on my head while I waited for it to reboot. When I could stand it no longer I came out of the headstand and checked on my computer. It was taking an exorbitant amount of time to scan files or something. No bother, I went and did a modified Scorpion against the wall. When I came back again, it was telling me that Windows no longer works. I couldn't get it to boot up in any way, shape or form last night. Luckily I still have my PC so I don't have to unplug, but it is going to be a colossal head ache to get that fixed, especially because I have no clue what the problem might be.

I'm making meager, albeit real, progress on some of my goals. Today for lunch, I had a salad. And I haven't had a drink or smoke yet. I got one lab completed and made progress on two final projects. The promiscuous behavior and heroin addiction will have to wait until the Solstice Break.

Don't you hate it when you spray cologne on and you mistakenly inhale and bring the vapor deep into your mouth? I have a new hobby to go along with blogging. When something happens that I want to blog about, but I've already blogged for that day or I'm not in the mood, I jot a reminder down on a text file on my laptop (which is now kaput). Anyway, I had a note that said 'cologne in mouth.' I thought of this because it happened to me the other day, and I realized that cologne, much like vanilla extract, tastes nothing like it smells. Not that there are many colognes that I especially want to eat (welll...). Anyway, this was brought back to my attention when Marshall and I pulled up to the club and he sprayed on some cologne in the car and then started bitching about it getting in his mouth. I figured it must be an epidemic and I should address the issue the next chance I got. I dunno, just an observation. I got nothing left.

I've been having a lot of fun lately. I like having fun. But if I don't stop, there are going to be dire consequences ... dire like I haven't seen since my freshman year. It seems like a lot of the blogs around me have been delineating their goals for the rest of the year, and I realized it was time for me to do the same. If I don't figure out what I want to do with my life, how will I ever know when I fail?

So here goes my list of goals for the remainder of 2003:

• Get whiter teeth
• Tan the hide
• Lose 10lbs of fat
• Gain 15lbs of muscle
• Touch nose to knee
• Do the Scorpion
• Stop spending money
• Stop drinking
• Stop smoking
• Clean car
• Clean house
• Finish schoolwork
• Have a wonderful Thanksgiving

Well I got a little carried away. I didn't realize there were so many unsatisfactory points of my life until I sat down to make a list. I guess I'll go wash some dishes .....

Walking back from Yoga I saw a large crowd of people gathered around the Sul Ross statue outside of the Academic Building. My curiosity piqued, I ventured closer to find out which insane right wing christian group was starting shit. The only reason I did so is because occasionally someone will be out there yelling the word "VAGINA!" and I love playing Vagina Day games. As I got closer, I recognized the all too familiar foul stench of Tom S■■■, nationally known campus speaker. My natural instincts are to turn and run from this man, not because I'm intimidated (although I've witnessed first hand his ability to talk his way out of any logical situation) but because I think the only way to send a message to him that he's not wanted is to ignore him, not argue with him. Arguing with him is just what he wants.

Against my better jugement, I decided to see if Owen was sitting out there listening to him. Owen has some sick fascination with Tom S■■■, as well as Mormons and his friend Adrian. Alas, he was not out there, but I made the mistake of coming within earshot long enough to hear him say something about homosexuals. Then I was stuck. Here's his story pretty ver batim (that means 'word for word,' Joseph).

"I was talking up at the University of Maryland one day and a young man who identified as gay said, Tom, do you think we should kill all the homosexuals? And I said we need to save them. And he said again, Tom, do you think we should kill all of the homosexuals? And again, I said that if they found Jesus etc, he said TOM, do you think we should kill all the homosexuals?

"And this went on for about a half an hour before I finally decided to address this young man's question directly. And I said yes, I think we should kill all of the homosexuals. But first, why don't we start with the young man that corrupted and perverted you, the one who made you think you were gay. And he stopped, and his face softened, and he said, you know, Tom, you're right."

WHAT?!?! WHO THE FUCK WOULD AGREE WITH THAT?! My god this man is a fucking idiot. I don't mind so much that one guy is a fucking worthless piece of shit beyond all reason and so entrenched in a 2000 year old fairy tale praying to Mother Goose that he should be fed to the lions, but I can't believe he is allowed to spread hate throughout the nation.

This man needs to learn that what he is doing is wrong. But since he knows how to work the free speech areas, we can't exactly silence him. So this is what I uncharacteristically suggest. If you see him, lets teach him that ignorance breeds intolerance, intolerance breeds hatred, hate begets hate, and hate begets violence. So if you see him, pick up a rock or something and throw it at his face. The more adamantly you know he's wrong, the bigger the rock should be. I gotta go now, I have some bricks to throw.

So today I thought I would share a bit of yoga progress with you all. Since it would be hard to explain the insanity of the Plow Position in words, I thought I would include a little picture. I did this posture today. Me. Ouch. Keep the comments g-rated.

In other news, I have a test tomorrow in my LAN/MAN class that I am completely unprepared for. And on top of that, its at 8am, so there is no way in hell I can go out tonight. That's very upsetting to me. But I just ran into Dustin on campus (don't worry, he's okay) and he said he's not going out tonight either, so we'll both be rarin' to go on Friday night. It's going to be nice to be able to just lay around for a weekend ... what a change. Owen is going to Dallas after our exam at 8, so I'll have the place all to myself. Maybe I should throw a par-tay. We'll see. For one thing, I have GOT to clean my house. I just did an emergency load of laundry at Harvey Gangbangers yesterday since I've been recycling for the past two weeks. Feels good to be clean.

I dunno, not a whole lot to port or report. Hope everything is going well for everybody. Catch you on the flip slide, you have-nots.

Rain is not fun. Rain is not soothing. Rain is not romantic. Rain is wet. Rain is cold. Rain is a hassle. Today it rained. I got wet despite my jacket and umbrella. But I found a good solution to the problem. We have a heat gun in our lab. It is designed to shrink shrink-wrap, but we use it to dry off circuit boards after they've been electro-plated. Today I used them to heat my shoes to a toasty 100 degrees before I slipped them back on. Instant comfort. Took them off and repeated the process. Its the little things that make life worth living.

Today I went to yoga again. I forgot that we were supposed to turn in our yoga journals today so now I have to turn it in to the front office tomorrow. Not too happy about that cause it means I definitely have to go to school tomorrow and I am not in the practice of going to class on Fridays. We practiced our shoulder stands, where you essentially (to point out the obvious) stand on your shoulders with your entire body up in the air. If you do it incorrectly, your butt will jut out and it is hard to balance. I got another compliment from the teacher cause she walked by me and said I was "very straight."

I got my happy ass up this morning at 7am, got ready, and went to school. I haven't been to my 8 o'clock in so long, so I was overjoyed to find that I had arrived on the very day that we were having our first quiz. Hurrah! Not so fast, my overzealous readers... As it turns out, I didn't have the first clue how to answer either of the 5 point questions. Nonplussed as ever about this situation that I've found myself in many times before, I busted out the crossword and proceeded to work on that instead. While I may have gotten a zero on the quiz, I am happy to say that I finished the entire crossword during the time allotted. I almost turned it in to see if I could get any credit for my shrewd lexi-skills, but in the end, just opted for running out the back door and catching the bus home.

I'm still at work despite it being past 5, but don't cry for me. Not only did I show up late, but I fell asleep in my recliner over my lunch break and extended it an extra hour. Whoopsadaisy. I don't think anyone noticed though. I got a new space to work in that is quiet, secluded, and right next to the coffee pot. Things are on the up and up, although I'll only have this area for another week. My boss wants to set up a temporary lab. We're fast approaching our deadlines and I have to quickly become productive, while managing to also attend school and keep up with that. My life is so hard [note sarcasm].

In other news, I paid off my credit card in full this month. That's always exciting because it never ever happens. Fret not though, loyal viewers, I still have that outstanding balance at Best Buy for all the cool shit I bought this summer.

I have got to get back to the gym. Yoga is not exactly shedding pounds of beer gut.

Tonight I was going into my backpack to get out some homework assignments due tomorrow when I came across my Yoga textbook. I realized that I've barely cracked the thing since I (and by "I" I mean "my dad") bought it those weeks ago. I felt like I was at a point that I could do some independent yoga, so I popped it open to see what was in store. You're supposed to start with basic spinal twists and stretches ... which is major boring shit. So I skipped right to the head stand. After a few painfully unsuccessful attempts, I decided to start with their starting positions and read the instructions, rather than just jumping on my head. I'm proud to say I successfully held the headstand for a few seconds. As Owen as my witness, I did it. I wasn't too successful at the Crow, even though I did get into it, just not as cleanly as I would have liked. And the Peacock was NOT going to happen anytime soon. I also came dangerously close, with the help of Owen pushing on my back with his foot, to touching my nose to my knee. Allison made a bet with me, I do hope she's remembering, that the first person to touch their nose to their knee gets an entire night of free drinks at Northgate. And I am actively persuing that goal.

Why do I keep having dreams that I've killed people? They're never violent dreams, they generally only deal with the guilt and paranoia of having just killed someone. Why can't I have wet dreams like a normal person...

Last night I decided I needed a proper meal, so I coerced Owen into going to Outback Steakhouse with me. Holy shit, it was the best meal I've ever had. I got this $25 steak, and it was rare, and fatty, and bloody ... and oh my god. I still get happy when I think about it now. It was dead on what I was looking for. It reminded me of the scene in the Matrix where Cypher is meeting with Agent Smith and has the red wine, and red steak, and cigar. Only I had a bigass Coors light, red steak and a cigarette. It was absolutely incredible. Some day I will eat like that every day.

In other news, I have a few humorous stories that I should probably spread over the next few days when I run out of things to talk about, but I just can't wait and I don't want to forget them.

The other day I saw an American flag bumper sticker that said, "These colors don't run. Never have. Never will." And it was completely faded by the sun.

This sorority bitch on the bus this morning was talking on her cell phone entirely too loud (like they always do) and said to her friend, "I don't know how half the people got into this university much less to the point they are at. Charles was a softmore in college and didn't know how to do a bibliography. Can you believe it? A SOFTMORE! A SOFTMORE in college and he didn't know." And no, children, I'm not the idiot here, I'm typing it exactly how she was saying it. Very clear with the T.

I was walking behind two girls on campus today after yoga, and eavesdropping as I often do. And they were talking about Jesus. Only it was the weirdest conversation about Jesus I had ever heard before. They were saying things like, "We had Jesus at our party," and, "Jesus everywhere." So I kept listening trying to figure out what kind of whacko Christians these were. It wasn't until I overheard her say, "Yeah, we had them all ... Cheddar, Provolone, Swiss..." that I realized I was an idiot with a hearing problem.

I have a couple of things to report. The first is news from the eRECt Center that I just returned from. I spent about an hour there, and never really got around to lifting any weights. Instead, I sat in the corner and stretched and stretched and stretched. My yoga teacher is going to be proud of me. Anyway, I tried desperately to touch my nose to my knee and I came ever so close, but no cigar. The way I see it, though, I'm only about two weeks away from it being effortless.

I bought my yoga book today and read part of it. Frankly, there were chapters in there that just plum made me blush. This yoga shit is going to be the best thing for my sex life since accidental tantra.

In other news, I was over at Josh's watching some TV, and his friend Kyle or Carl was there. I didn't really listen to his name the 100 times I heard it. I hope he doesn't somehow read this and get offended. Anyway, Josh brings up the fact that if you put salt on an ice cube and hold it in your hand that it will burn you. Ky(Car)l(e) claims that is bullshit. They bicker back and forth, eventually daring each other to try it. When they both wouldn't, I stepped forward as the guinea pig.

It's not uncommon for me to test theories out on myself. One time I stuck a 9V battery to my braces ... that felt like god had donkey kicked me in the face. Another time, I opened my eye right on a camera flash and set it off to see what would happen. I couldn't open my eye for about 2 hours and when I finally could, everything was red. Anyway, back to my story.

So Josh hands me an ice cube and pours a moderate amount of salt on. "Don't be shy," I prodded. More salt. After doing some research on the internet, the best explanation I've found of what happens is this. Pouring salt on ice is an endothermic reaction. That means it must draw heat into the reaction from the surrounding environment. This plunges the ice (normally around 32-33 degrees) to much, much lower. So when you hold it in your hand while this reaction is going on, it draws heat, not from the air, but from your hand. End result: frost-bite.

It was quite painful at the time, but not excruciating. Today, however, I have an ice cube shaped red mark on my hand that hurts pretty bad. Most people would encourage you to not make the same mistake, but I'm not most people. I want you to try this right now, and then leave me a comment letting me know how it went for you. Until then, my little plebeians. Peace out!

As a general rule, for those of you not currently aware of the situation, if it is raining outside, I'm not in a good mood. I appreciate the fact that some people find the rain romantic, or like curling up inside their dry, warm beds and listening to the rain hit the roof and somehow derive pleasure from this. But I am not one of those people. Rain is a hassle. For starters, it gets everything wet, including me ... at 7:30am. That's never cool. I also don't appreciate auxiliary noises and lights. If I want to fall asleep to the sound of rain, I will buy a noise machine, thank you very much.

I was supposed to go over to Clay's house last night to watch Chicago. I only bought the damn thing a month ago and I still haven't broken the cellophane. But, then it started raining, which puts a hold on every plan imaginable, unless my plan is to get wet and cold and muddy, then rain is a good thing. I ended up opting to lay on the couch and drink a beer while watching The Daily Show. Which led to passing out hardcore while laying on the couch drinking a beer while watching the Daily Show. I woke up somewhere around midnight and then went to bed.

I'm attempting to get Dustin and Trey to go out with me tonight. I always have a good time when I hang out with those two. We'll see what happens. Now I'm going to go employ my yoga techniques and try to exhale some of this animosity to avoid being a malcontent towards the weather. Laaaaaaaate.

I just got done with my first real session of yoga, and holy crap was it hard. The entire thing is isometric, which looks easy, but man my muscles were burning up. The stretching we did last week felt so good and was totally relaxing. And we did it again this week but then followed it up with some yoga that could only be described as aerobic. And anyone who knows me knows I'm not down with the aerobics. But, this is the class, and I love it for what it is, and I'm going to give it my all.

That Quotes and Convos excerpt from my conversation with Sean (TAMUROCKS) has gotten me thinking. Maybe there should be a Miss Quoting Pageant. That would certainly be more entertaining to watch than the Miss America Pageant. She could go up to the mic and the announcer would say, "1 minute on the clock, top ten answers on the board. Chris Farley." And the contestant would say, "I've been using your product for a year now, and I'm still excited. They have a thin candy shell, I'm surprised you didn't know that. Hey Dad, I don't see too good, is that Bill Shakespeare over there? Lay off me I'm starving." And then the buzzer would sound and the results would be tabulated... God, thats a good idea.

Always one to try and share the wealth of visitors that I have on a daily basis, I have to announce the conception of another new blog. Chris (henceforth known as Topher ... his collegiate persona) has started a blog of his own. You can click here to read it, its pretty a pretty clever little page. Thats him up top in the cowboy hat for the one or two of you who haven't spoken to me in the past 4 months and don't know who he is. *wink*

So as I was walking back from yoga there was a young man, about my age, standing out by the ol' Sul Ross statue ... better known as the free speech area of campus. And right around as I got into the audible range, before I could make out individual words, I just knew that he was yelling about god or jebus or something. Nobody talks that loud in public unless they're spouting off some shit no one wants to hear. He was talking about how his friend went into a coma and he saved his life. Because the incompetant doctors with all their book smarts had said that if he recovered from the coma he wouldn't ever be the same. So this kid, being smarter than the doctors, started praying and cured his friend. Christ on a cracker, desperate people so often cling to desperate notions. I wavered between laughing, crying and wailing on him with my tennis elbow. But ultimately, I did nothing but ignore him, as I do most people on campus.

Speaking of, kind of funny. My friend Charlie is a senior in the corps. Don't ask how I got mixed up with a corps boy but I did. So I hear this corps boy (they all look the same to me) yell, "Hey!" And I ignore him, of course. And then I heard it again. And I was thinking that he was probably upset about the fact that the patch on my bag says, "War is not healthy for children and other living things," ala John Denver's Whose Garden is This album cover. And we all know corps boys are not taught, but trained, so I figured he was reacting to the stimulus of rationale. But then he finally caught up to me, boots clanking the whole way and grabbed my shoulder. He's lucky I'm incapable of inflicting any harm, unwilling to exert myself, untrained in any self defense, and lacking all sense of reflexes, or I might have flipped him over and put him in a hold. Damn lucky. Instead, I realized that it was my friend and said hi. Kind of anti-climactic, but I enjoyed the happy ending.

That's about all from the home front. I'm attempting to blog every day this week, but hesitant to make that claim cause I'll probably forgo one day this weekend. But I am starting to see my numbers steadily rise and I can only contribute it to my own dedication. So keep checking back. Peace out, you have nots.

A lot of people seemed to enjoy my character profile of the sorority bitches, so I've got another one for ya. This person that bothers me lives in the rec center weight room. Now I'm sure there are a number of people in the rec center weight room that get on your nerves, but strangely, only one gets my goat.

I go to get a drink of water from the fountain, and naturally, there's a line. I mean I usually go during peak hours, so its not uncommon to have as many as 5 or 6 people in line for each water fountain. No problem. And when its finally my turn to take a swig, the asshole in front of me who has just finished slaking his thirst, stands up, turns 180 and bumps into me. He's not trying to be rude. One look into his eyes and you will know that the utter shock of there being someone behind him is genuine. But come on people, lets try to remain mildly cognizant of our surroundings out there, okay?

On a side note, I am venturing into my 37th hour of no smoking. There are a couple of reasons for my little experiment none of which deal with health issues. For one, its pure masochism. Translate emotional unrest to physical discomfort and watch it all dissipate. Secondly, my yoga teacher made us each come up with three long term goals for the semester and one of mine was to reduce the frequency and amount of smoking. I've been in the corporate game all summer, I know better than to word a goal so there aren't any loopholes. Anyway, if this is met with any amount of success then I'll keep you all posted; otherwise, I'll just let it fall by the wayside. I'm outtie.

Exit Weekend. Time to put the ol' nose to the grindstone once again tomorrow ... y'know for 50 minutes since thats all the school that I have on Monday. Man, school sucks. The only class I like is Yoga, and I really, really like it. If you have the opportunity to take it as a kineseology, I would highly suggest it. I will report more on that after I go to it a few more times, but its only once a week so that might take a while.

So I went to Humble, TX this weekend for my brother's housewarming party. Owen went with me, as did the famed fog machine. It was quite a hit once people got used to the haze. Deauxcheck was there, but Boozer and Tim, two of my brothers friends who probably read my website religiously totally bailed. It was a pretty good party considering how many people showed up and stayed late. I took on the single handed responsibility of floating an entire keg. And while I wasn't technically successful, I did end up hurling in the backyard with only a vague sense of what was going on around me. That was pretty cool. And I woke up with very little hangover. Always a bonus. Anyway, my bro's been living in this house for a longass time so I don't know why this was a housewarming party, but whatever. I know he put the pictures up on imagestation but I can't seem to find his albums, so I'll update that later. Enjoy your week, you havenots. Laaaaaaate.

Well now that the 3,000+ hits days are starting to waver (although I'm still around 10X the number of hits I'm used to ... over 8,000 this week!) I am fast trying to think of some schtick to keep people interested in my site. I've tried many things in the past: a 24 hour webcam, rampant egocentricism, guest bloggers, The Conduit E-Zine. Yet, for some reason, this blog keeps taking on a purely narrative approach. I talk about being late to work, and drinking beer on weekends. Thats Boring with a capital B.

So, I've been searching for inspiration as of late and I think a combination of sources have come together to form a great idea. First, the last time I was home, I was reading some Reader's Digest and came across an article about eating disorders, and how young girls find support groups online that help them maintain their anorexia or bulemia. I looked one up and it was sick. It had such advice as, "Any time you feel like eating, go for a run." Wow. Also, the guy who did the journalistic approach towards Stinky Feet and Date My Sister (thespark.com) inspired me to take notes on something people can engage in, not just my boring life. Finally, the Conduit article I titled but never wrote will now be put into practice. I would like to welcome you all to Day 1 of the Anorexercise Experiment.

My coworker, Karen, and I have decided on 4 factors to track my progress on the diet plan that promises to help you shed pounds faster than your "doctor" recommends. These are Last Meal, Anorexercise, Feeling, and Waist Size. Without further ado, here are the stats for Day 1 of the Anorexercise Experiment:

Last Meal: Dinner yesterday at On the Border. I had two soft chicken tacos.
Anorexercise: Moderate yoga and a brisk morning walk.
Feeling: Light headed and hungry.
Waist Size: 32"

If you looked at yourself in the mirror today and didn't like what you saw, think about the weight loss benefits of anorexia, and the overall benefits of exercise, and try to imagine what anorexercise can do for you! Weight loss squared!

I think I've decided that I party too much. It was easy to slip into the habit as day after day of summer rolls by with little more to do than to make sure I get to work in time to go to lunch with my friends. An excess of money and a shortage of nightly activities led to a pattern of coming home from work, getting cleaned up and ready to go, arguing with Allison about where we're going, finally begrudgingly settling on Northgate (again), drinking 2 or 3 beers at various bars until finally deciding that they all suck and always do, driving home around 1, getting into the personal stash until 2 or 3, passing out, and going to work at noon the next day.

Well, I've had enough. This tomfoolery has got to stop lest I lead a trite and meaningless existence. Last night was the first night in a long time that I didn't drink. I intend to do the same tonight. You know its bad when you've become so habitually addicted to drinking that you actually have to make a conscious effort not to. I'm also disgustingly fat, so I'm going to start going to the rec nightly again. On top of that, I bought this rad yoga video at the grocery store to help me prepare for my yoga class next semester. I watched part of it and it was too hard for me to do, so instead I just chose two or 3 of the positions and tried to do them. This is definitely a physical workout, so it should be really good for me if I can do it. Its a lot of squatting and then standing up ... shit I don't do so well. But I'm going to give it a go.

I'm excited about my new lease on life. Granted its like my third one that I've had this summer, but this time I think it may be different. So from now on, if you need to get a hold of me, no longer wait around Northgate, instead try the Rec Center. Laaaaaaaaaaate.

In the words of the great Albert Einstein, "Free at last! Free at last! Thank god almighty, free at last!" Boy if the words of the greatest American ever don't just sum it up, I don't know what does. I am done with finals, done with grading, done with it all. Now its on to the summer. I will tell you all about it, but first I wanted to introduce something my good buddy Joseph sent me called the Shizzolator. It will translate any page into how Snoop Dogg would say it. (http://www.asksnoop.com) The rest of the blog I am going to write in Shizzolator style.

So I'm pretty sho that I gots A's in izzall of my major courses this semester n' shit. It's chemistry that's really going fuck me up n' shit. I don't think there's any way I could has gotten lower than a C in there but I would really rather has a B. I doubt there's any way I can make an A either n' shit. Regardless of what happens, that shiznit is really over this time." None of this hard work over da summer shit n' shit. I am getting an internship wit da space center in College Station, though, 'n that's going take up a lot of my time, methinks, know what I'm sayin'? I am bound 'n determined start my workout program on Monday though n' shit. I also need stretch a lot this summer so I won't be completely embarassed in my yoga class next semester, know what I'm sayin'?

Oh yeah, 'n Keith moved out 'n some brizzle moved in n' shit. I came crib one day 'n Keith's room is izzall girly 'n there brizzle wuz n' shit. She like hosted a dinner party tonight, I dunno, know what I'm sayin'? I wuz too busy seeing X-Fools 2, which wuz fucking badass, just in case yo' ass wanted know n' shit. I recommed everyone go see X-Fools now! I also seen da fucking trailer fo' The Matrix n' shit. Thus far I've avoided that shiznit, but that shiznit wuz right there in front of me 'n I couldn't look away, know what I'm sayin'? I had scream a few expletives during that shiznit, know what I'm sayin'? That move is going change my life forever, 'n I'm frightened by da prospect, know what I'm sayin'?

So this week I really don't has anything lined up." If yo' ass're staying in town fo' da summer, hit me up 'n we can arrange some weekly boozing sessions or something." Oh, one a footnote, happy birthday Eric G■■■■ two turned da big ass 23 this Wednesday n' shit. Always nice celebrate a bday wit a fellow Northgate regular n' shit. Excelsior! I'll see yo' ass izzall on da flip siiiiide n' shit.