We the People, In Order to Form a More Perfect Sports League

Being a sports fan is what used to define me. Heck, to many people, my sports fandom is still what defines me¹. It's no coincidence; I love most sports, playing or watching. I used to memorize everything I could about the Indians. I've been known to disappear from society during Grand Slam events. I even cover basketball as a beat.
But in recent years, my enthusiasm has ebbed. There are a number of reasons for this. ESPN's dominance of everything sport has proven irksome, as has the obnoxiousness of fans in general. These are, however, minor annoyances I could probably deal with. What I find extremely off-putting is the antagonizing nature of the athletes and owners. Despite the facts these teams and leagues exist because of the fans, players, owners, and leagues treat fans like crap. Athletes regard fans with contempt, as wannabes that are jealous of their talent, fame, and fortune². Owners and leagues look at fans as cash cows to be milked for everything they're worth. We lose at every turn.

It's one thing to be subjected to MLB's ridiculous blackout rules or NFL season ticket holders being forced to but preseason tickets. Yeah, it's annoying and a little bit of a mugging, but most will gnash their teeth and deal with it. It's entirely another thing for leagues and owners to hold cities and taxpayers hostage in order to procure sweetheart deals that make the mega-rich even richer.

This is nothing new. New baseball stadia have been springing up all over America the last 15 years after every team rattled the pauper's cup. If a city hesitated, Bug Selig would swoop in and suggest a different city would be willing to foot the bill for a new palace the organization so clearly deserved. No matter if that team actually won, of course. They must have a new stadium, and when they get it, the wins will come with it. I need not cite anything that disproves that stupid argument; I need only to point in the general direction of Pittsburgh.

Then we come to the sad tale of the Seattle Sonics, and how the great fans there got totally abused by the ownership, David Stern, and eventually the city.

The straw that breaks the camel's back comes from Miami. I remember my trip there last year and seeing a number of people angry about the prospect of a new stadium for the Marlins. They didn't want what they characterized as a bailout for the team. I didn't know much about it, and most of the people that were against it were poor, so I thought that perhaps it was only the lower classes that were opposed to the idea.

Turns out they were on to something. Reports have come in detailing the way the Marlins management completely hoodwinked the city and county government, crying poor while pocketing deep profits and finagling a deal that will cost taxpayers $2.4 billion. Yeah. Billion. What makes this all the sadder is that this is only the latest episode in what has become a long-running series. Owners start to complain they're not making any money and that their venue is outdated. They threaten to leave the area, pitting local governments against fans that do not want to see their team leave³. They manage to procure a new building at little personal expense but get to keep the vast majority of the profits generated from it. This is the pattern. This is the playbook.

Do we see the problem with this? Because I do. We do not exist to pour money into the coffers of sports ownership. If they want to upgrade their facilities, they should do it themselves. If you want to make the argument that the city should chip in because it benefits from these teams, fine. But these men (not women) need to start paying their fair share, especially in these tough times.

Until they get a reality check, I'm done. These greedy people will get no more of my money. I will continue to support the ATP, as they have the crazy idea of financing themselves. But the NBA, MLB? Done. I'll go so far as to steal from them at every opportunity, just because they do it to us. We need to stand up and let them know they won't build a fortune off our tax money. I'll take a step forward. Consider coming with me.

_________________________________________________________________

1 This is something I embraced in the past. Now it's something I'm trying to shed.

2 They are right at least some of the time. The cutthroat nature of fandom these days does nothing to endear a player to anyone.

3 Why is it that so many of the people that happily agree to pay more in taxes to build new arenas rail against school levies and social programs?

Why Hasn't This Caught on in America?

I've been watching the Australian Open this week on ESPN 360. On Monday, I opened the window and on the right it has a list of the events being broadcasted. It was all tennis... except for one. Cricket. India vs Bangladesh. No love lost there, right? I think, hey, let's check out some cricket. Maybe I'll see a wicked googly. So I click on it.

I'm greeted by the sight of an empty field with this graphic dominating the screen:

CHITTAGONG, 1ST TEST

TEA HAS BEEN TAKEN

LIGHT PERMITTING PLAY WILL RESUME AFTER TEA HAS BEEN TAKEN

Awesome. Can you imagine that? USA vs Spain, gold medal game in basketball. Halfway through the third quarter, they stop and all have a drink together. Kind of hard to take the game too seriously when that happens, right? Maybe we should try this in the SEC.

Point is, I have no idea what "Chittagong, 1st test" means.

Just Down the Road From King's Island...

I'm excited! This week is the ATP tournament in Cincinnati. For the second straight year, I'll be attending. I went for the first time in 2003¹, then again last year.

The first time, it was the excitement of seeing pro tennis in person for the first time. Everything was a new experience, and it was pretty overwhelming in a great way. Last year was fun and newish because five years had passed, so many of the players at the tournament I hadn't seen before. I was seeing almost all of them for the first time.

That won't be the case this year. In fact, this won't even be the first tournament I attend this year; I spent a day at the Sony Ericsson Open in Key Biscayne. I actually was within five feet of Roger Federer. This was when things were looking like they were falling apart for him and everyone thought he was kind of done, but I was still in awe to be near him. I've been in close proximity to all of the world's top players except Juan Martin Del Potro. Nobody had me as awestruck as Federer². Being near Nadal was kind of like being near a rock star. Djokovic was kind of like a guy you know from the bar. Andy Murray seemed like he was amused by it all.

So I think I'm going to be entering this with a bit more poise. I won't have the sense of discovery. I like that feeling, but it will be nice to know what I'm doing and maximize my time there. If you've never been to a pro tennis event, there's a lot of things to do there. It can be overwhelming. You never see it on TV, but there are multiple courts, a huge food court³, and shopping. Lots of shopping.

I'm planning on bringing my camera this time. I'm not much of a photographer, but hopefully I'll come out with some good shots. It's gonna be a blast.

_______________________________________________________________________________

1 You can see some unexciting pictures from that trip on my Facebook page.

2 A couple months ago, I planned on writing a short entry. Roger said he still believed he could beat Nadal on clay, and I was going to poo-poo him and basically say that window had closed. Of course, he goes out and beats Nadal at Madrid, then wins the French Open and Wimbledon. I'm thankful for my laziness.

3 And the food is pretty good and not unreasonably priced. At Key Biscayne, I had a delicious mahi mahi sandwich for less than $15. It's a better deal than it might sound.

Snort of a Problem

One of the nice things about pro tennis is that it has so far avoided the steroid scandal that other sports have become embroiled in. I'm not sure why this is¹. However, a drug of an entirely different sort has reared its ugly head: Cocaine.

Perhaps tennis is just 30 years behind baseball. What makes this all noteworthy are the circumstances behind the cases and the rules regarding cocaine. Firstly and most shockingly, cocaine is considered a performance enhancing substance. No, really. If there is a way to describe coke, "performance enhancing" is not one of them².

The penalty for a first-time cocaine offense? Two year ban. No, really. That seems perfectly reasonable and just for a recreational drug. Not counseling, a fine, or even a one month ban. Two years.

Two top players have been busted in the last two years: Martina Hingis in 2007 and Richard Gasquet this year. In both cases, the player denied using steroids and fought the ban. Hingis' attempts were rebuffed; Gasquet was cleared.

There are so many levels of stupidity behind these things, it's hard to sort them out. Hingis' defense centered around inconsistencies in the testing and handling of samples. This is generally a bad idea; organizations do not like the accusation they did something wrong. It's not much of a surprise, then, that her appeal failed. What was Gasquet's accepted defense? That he kissed some girl at a nightclub, and she probably did some coke, and that resulted in his failing the test. No, really.

Read the finding by the tribunal in his appeal. Try not to marvel at the how dumb Gasquet's story is and how idiotic the panel had to be in order to buy it.

Gasquet's positive test was 151 ng/ml. This is the equivalent of the size of a grain of salt. Hingis? 42 ng/ml. That's right, a trace of cocaine one-third the size a grain of salt triggered a two-year ban that effectively ended her career. I can't completely fault the tennis governing bodies for this; they follow the World Anti-Doping Agency and this is their rule. However, it's a stupid rule and doesn't do any good.

Oh, and just for fun: The amount you need to fail a test in the American military is 150 ng/ml³. So it's actually easier to fail a cocaine test if you're an athlete than if you're in the armed forces. Now which are you more concerned about being on coke?

________________________________________________________________________

1 And frankly, I don't really care. If steroids made Rafael Nadal the fist-pumping, testosterone-exuding champion he is, great! I want to see tennis played as well as it possibly can be.

2 I realize it could theoretically help. But seriously, do you really think people are snorting coke and benefiting from it?

3 I can't find the list of WADA cutoff amounts. If anyone can, send it my way, please.

The Man Across the Net

The human existence is driven by rivalries. We thrive on competition, even if that rivalry is with ourselves. Think about it: The Cold War was really just a rivalry with the US and Soviet Union. Politics thrives on rivalries, especially in this country. You have a rivalry with at least one of your friends in something. The instinct to one-up is hardwired inside us.

This is doubly true in sports. They don't just thrive on rivalries, we need them. If we don't have them, we create them. They are the most important part of the season. The effects of a rivalry are astounding. Winning that game means more than any other win, except a championship. It inspires players to raise their games higher than they had before or knew they could. A rivalry brings more attention and interest to a game than it otherwise would. It's art (sports) imitating life.

I had a rivalry of sorts in my high school career. I say "of sorts" because it was one-sided, and as the old saying goes, it's not a rivalry if one side wins all the time. It was with one of my teammates, Andy Keller.

Andy was/is a friend of mine. We had a lot in common, we were teammates, we had some gym classes together. We saw each other a lot back in the day. He's a good guy.

While I had started playing tennis in middle school, he didn't pick up the sport until his sophomore year of high school (my freshman year). When he joined the team and he wasn't very good, of course, because he didn't yet know how to play. So we played a couple times and I beat him. He started the year on the JV team.

He proved a quick study, moving up to second doubles by the time the season ended. When the next season rolled around, he was a lot better. All of a sudden, I couldn't beat him. His friend Jason also joined the team, and while he wasn't a very good tennis player, he was such a good athlete it was extremely difficult to get a ball by him, and he won matches that way. I wasn't good enough at that time to beat somebody like him, so I went from thinking I was going to be one of the best three best players on the team to not being able to beat a guy I could before and this other guy that had just picked up a racquet.

It was frustrating. I thought I was getting better, but Andy clearly was, too. I never beat him in those last two years he was on the team, and I haven't beaten him since¹. Andy, in fact, was the #1 singles player on the team his senior year². Is he better than me? Yes, but not so much so that he should beat me 100% of the time. He's a little bit faster than me, a little bit stronger, a little bit tougher mentally. Having a lot of little advantages really adds up, more than you might think. I had better volleys and a better second serve, but he made it tough for me to get up to the net.

It came down to my mentality. I didn't think I could beat him, so I never did. One time we were playing and we had to quit tied 5-5. We picked it up the next day, and all I could think was, "Just don't lose the next eight points in a row." What did I do? Exactly that. Why did I do that? Stupid. What made it worse was it would almost always be by close scores; I would just fold at the critical moments.

For his part, I doubt Andy ever saw it this way. Like I said, we were friends, and he was always nice and encouraging. I pulled out an old yearbook not long ago and read what we wrote. Not only did it make me laugh out loud, but I also noticed how he went out of his way to try and pump me up. So maybe I didn't have the requisite anger to really want to beat him for any reason other than my own ego.

One irony about all of this is that I haven't played since I realized all this. I really think I can beat him now. It's partially because I think I'm stronger mentally, but mostly because he doesn't really play anymore. We just don't live near each other these days. It's sad, because we still get along well.

_____________________________________________________________________________

1 I could beat Jason, who was almost as good.

2 I suspect Joe Ziska intentionally allowed Andy to beat him before positions were set so that Joe could play easier opponents. All three of our singles players that year were pretty close in skill, which was good for the team.

I Think They Made a Mistake

Roger Federer is the greatest player of the Open Era. Rafael Nadal is currently the #1 player in the world and is the reigning Wimbledon and Australian Open champion, as well as the best clay courter ever.

So why do they suck so much in Virtua Tennis 3? I hope you guys fixed this for VT4.

Oh, Rafa

You have a machismo I haven't seen since Razor Ramon. You have women actually screaming uncontrollably in your wake. I touched you last year and might have gotten a temporary testosterone increase.

None of that excuses this:

I don't know if it's you or Nike- I suspect Nike- but your wardrobe choices this year have been positively brutal. You don't have to go back to the pirata look if you don't want to. At least look less like some neon alien, OK?

No Tennis, Anyone?

Now that I've explained in exhaustive detail my "history," such as it is, of me being a sports writer, I will now explore the natural follow-up question¹: Why not my favorite sport?

The obvious answer is one of accessibility. While basketball is far from America's favorite sport, it has a massive following and has a team what seems like every five miles across the country. During the season, there are games every night. Anyone with a decent cable or satellite package is likely to find five or more games on TV a night. There is no shortage of basketball, which means there is a need to provide coverage of it².

My position is kind of unique; everyone wants to cover UNC. Few people want to cover the MAC, but there is a decent amount of people that follow it. Being one of those people that actually want to cover it, I found a niche. No such niche exists in tennis.

While college basketball is probably not even in the top five most popular sports in America, it is still far, far ahead of tennis. Only professional tennis matters; nobody cares about college or the minor leagues³. And, in case you didn't know, professional tennis tours. It moves. I can find MAC games within a few hours' drive 2-4 times a week; Cincinnati has a one-week tournament, Indianapolis is the same, and that's it. The next closest tournament is the US Open in New York, and a couple other tournaments of significance are sprinkled around the country. However, the majority of the tour happens beyond my reach and means.

I suppose I could follow the tour on TV and write about that⁴, but what is the point of that? While I know more about tennis than most and probably could lend some insight into what is going on, it's not going to be enough to be worthwhile. This dovetails into a couple more important points. The first is that tennis is a simply awful sport for television, perhaps the worst. Tennis loses everything in translation on television, and I mean everything. You don't get any sense of the speed, the athleticism, the spin on the ball. I'm the biggest fan of tennis that you know, but even I have a hard time watching it on television. In person? Riveting. I can't take my eyes away.

Basketball, on the other hand, translates excellently to television. Not as well as football⁵, but very well. I love watching in person, but I can tune in and lose very little, perhaps even gain a little; it's easier to take the court as a whole on the screen than in person. I'm not getting to every MAC game, but I am watching it on TV and listening to it on the radio, and it gives me enough that I can use to write about. Not so for tennis.

The other point is that tennis, frankly, sucks to write about.

John McEnroe wrote in his autobiography that tennis is "poetry written on water." It is beautiful, but once it's over, you can't recapture it. The sport is by nature somewhat ethereal; the written word can't really capture it. This is why so little actual tennis writing actually has to do with the matches themselves. Instead, writers look more for what is happening around the game. Occasionally, they try to play psychologist and figure out what is going on in a player's head, a fruitless exercise.

Also, there is no way to statistically quantify tennis. There's that etherealness again. Sometimes, the player that wins the most points loses the match. It's goofy. We don't really try, either. Look at the stat set for a match sometime. It ain't telling you much.

I know some sports reporters grow to hate the sports they cover for a living. However, I think I could deal with seeing the world and meeting all sorts of people for a while. Plus, I'd be intimately involved with my favorite sport.

Heck, I can't be worse at it than Peter Bodo. Maybe I should give it a shot.

___________________________________________________________________

1It's natural to me, at least. Then again, I've been known to put myself through the Socratic method with me.

2Ever notice how my paragraphs tend to be short? Telltale sign of a newspaper writer.

3The Challenger and Futures circuits, FYI.

4I actually did try this for a while. I did not enjoy it.

5We're actually at the point where it's better to watch football on television than in person. This is part of the reason football is the top sport in the country. It's also part of why tennis will never be more than a niche sport in the United States.

Now That's What I'm Talking About

Before this utter nonsense of snow and temperatures in the 40s, we had the first legitimately beautiful day of the year Sunday in Athens. The mercury reached the low 70s, there was just the slightest bit of wind, the clouds were sparse but pretty enough, and the air just felt so fresh.

Naturally, I played tennis. The weekend marked the first time since the shoulder injury that I hit the court, and it just felt really good to be back out there, like I had returned home. I pray I don't have to leave it again.

Also, I walked around and played in the cherry blossoms along the Hocking. They are in full bloom now, vivid white flowers bursting from the twisted limbs of that unique tree. Some of the petals were wobbling gently to the ground; they fell on and around me. It was easy to just close my eyes, breathe, and feel.

For those precious few moments, I was able to find and hold onto a true sense of happiness.

Well, Shoot

Not exactly the best news I've read. The Baltimore Sun has a great article about this. I wouldn't call myself a voracious follower of Wallace's work; indeed, I don't really latch on to any particular author with the possible exception of Eric Schlosser. But any time I came across his work, I felt my soul rise. I saw a little bit of myself in his writing. Certainly not as limber or talented, but I could relate. I felt like, if I met him, we would be friends. Our brains, and possibly our writing, seemed to be similar. Perhaps this was his writing, perhaps this was hubris on my part. I don't know. At the very least, we could talk tennis for hours. He wasn't a "tennis writer" per se, but nobody wrote about the sport better.

Chillingly, I now discover that we may have been more alike than I would have wanted or desired. We all think about death from time to time. For whatever reason, I had recently been thinking about if I died tomorrow, how would I be regarded? What would the obituary say? Who would miss me? Ultimately, what would my legacy be? I think we all want to know how others will react to our passing.

Everyone has reacted to his suicide like he got punched in the gut. Knowing, of course, that he'll never read this, I just want to say to him that I'm sorry. I didn't even know you, David, but I'm sorry.

Watch It, Old Man

It's a sad moment in your life when you say the following to yourself without a hint of irony: "Stop trying to do that. You're not 17 anymore." For whatever reason, I've started thinking of myself as 24, even though I don't turn 24 for several months. Bah. I think this is really only a tennis thing; I keep thinking about the glory days (such as they were) of high school.

I'm not old. I still look 16, and my maturity level is probably less than that. But... I feel a little proud of myself. I finally bought and assembled a desk and a chair. Yes, before this, I was sitting on the floor when using the computer. I actually have furniture now. Go me. If anyone knows me, you know this is something of a major accomplishment for me, as I'm so terrible at such things.

Also, I got access to ESPN 360, and they're showing five matches AT A TIME! Holy crap! Good times ahead. And the Harlem Globetrotters are going to be here Wednesday... game against Akron Thursday... life is looking pretty good. Just stop snowing.

Death by Sexy

You gotta love OU. Mom's Weekend just wrapped up. For those of you who haven't been blessed with the experience, 40 and 50-something moms descended on Ohio University for a couple days in an effort to outdrink and outslut their daughters. That may sound very harsh, but ask anyone who went to OU. It's absolutely true. Moms try to and hook up with college guys (if they haven't drunk them under the table first). It's really... icky as far as I'm concerned.
Off the heels of that eventful weekend comes a new thing: Ohio University SexFest 2007! For a wonder, there's no information I could find about it on the OU site, but here's a picture (sort of) of the flyers posted all over the place. This is the first time something like this is happening; I certainly would have remembered this occurring in the past.
Now, I'm sure the goal of this is to promote discussion and awareness of, uh, sex. Because if there's something we don't talk about enough, it's sex. But look at some of these events. Mass porn watching. What's that going to accomplish except demonstrate who enjoys watching porn with other people? I mean, there's nothing wrong about this week per se... but it just feels very off. I wonder if any parents on a tour have noticed these signs and what they think about it. I'm tempted to follow a group around to find out.

Got to play some tennis earlier today. That was a lot of fun, and I hate myself for not finding ways to play more. Evan and I didn't get to finish our match as our court time was up; I was ahead 2-0 in the third set. But, like I said, it was a lot of fun. And I was outside. I like being outside. So I'm going to try and do more of that. Plus, I took some of my old balls and put them on the legs of my chair so it moves all smooth and quiet. I feel like I accomplished something and that I'm in fourth grade again.
But darn it, my volleys have gone all to crap. And my forehand got real loose at times. And my backhand needs all sorts of work. I love this game, but it drives me crazy!

Based on the couple hours of tennis and the three hours of bike riding I did Friday, I've already started to turn brown. I'm excited for the line around my ankles to become more pronounced.

We're doing another forecast again tomorrow in Intro to Weather. I gotta make a good one if I want to keep my lead in the class. Bonus points are at stake! And I suppose I should study for that exam on Wednesday. And maybe start that paper due next week in history. No rest for the wicked.

The World is Not Making Sense

I give up. I've thrown the towel in. I'm done. Apparently I wasn't completely off the mark earlier, as Jessica told me she's getting back together with her ex. Awesome. So really, I've learned that doing things the "right way" is just a quick path to pain and misery. Don't treat women with respect. Don't compliment them. Don't do things for them and let them know what they mean to you. Instead, you should cheat on them, abuse them, lie to them, mess with them... these are the things that women apparently like. The good guys sit on the sidelines while the losers get chance after chance after chance.
So I'm done. I can't take this anymore. I've taken my hat out of the ring. I don't even want to talk to women right now. If you see me considering dating a girl, punch me in the nose. The same crap happens every single time, so I'm not even going to try anymore.
On a related note, I was having a conversation with Nate and Carolyn the other night. I somehow got to talking about my sister and mentioned she was dating some guy at Kent. I said it was one of those things where you go to school, meet some idiot guy, and date him for a while. After I said that, I looked at Carolyn and realized that was exactly the same thing with us! I am an idiot! How did I not see this before? It never meant as much to her as it did to me. It astounds me how much of a moron I am sometimes. Really, I should get an award for it.

As much fun as perpetual whining about women is, there are other things going on in my life. For instance, I'm on the verge of murdering my roommate. I don't know what the deal is with this kid. For the weekend, he wasn't getting up until about 6 PM! 6 PM! Who does that? So of course he's going to bed at insane hours; today he got up at 6, went to bed at 4, then woke up again at about midnight. There's no rhyme or reason to any of it. It drives me nuts. Of course, I guess when all you do is sit at the computer like a waste of humanity, you don't need a regular sleep schedule. And I thought I was unusual.

The Australian Open has started, and it's awesome. Live tennis at three in the morning is a thing I am very much in favor of. James Blake looked good in his first match against Moya; we'll see if he can make a significant run in Melbourne.

I love the Taco Bell commercials with Carmen Electra. I guess now that she's not with Dave Navarro anymore, she's more willing to debase herself again for money. Good for her.

I finally took advantage of the Little Caesar's $5 pizza deal. I'm going to have to do that more often. It's particularly fantastic. I mean, why didn't I do this before? Walk in, hand them a Jefferson, walk out with a pizza. Genius! Everyone should do this. It's amazing.

I don't know if I mentioned this, but I love the rock garden fountain Tim and Fi got me for Christmas. It's great. Sometimes, I'll just stare at it for several minutes. It's a great de-stressor.

In case you didn't read "The Christian Paradox" that I linked to in my last entry, I'm going to do it again and urge you to read it. This article spoke to me about a few things that had been in my head. This is a country that claims to be Christian, but it just doesn't follow through on its words. Religion- Jesus- is not words. It's life. I can say I'm left-handed, but it doesn't make me so. Too many seem to regard this faith as a moral code. It's not. And honestly, I'm sort of tired of this country. I want to see what else is out there. Europe may be more "explicit," but it is probably more honest, too. That's the thing here in the US. We're hypocrites. We do stuff we claim not to do. I'm not saying we should do whatever, but at least we ought to stop lying about it. It might be easier to raise children in a culture of honesty than one of deceit. You know, I don't think I'm going to refer to myself as a Christian anymore. I don't think the word accurately describes the path I have set out on anymore. Thoughts?

Close Your Eyes and Say Good Night

So I think Nate is getting tired of me destroying him in Smash Bros. I don't even remember the last time he's won a game. Speaking of games, I've been playing Betrayal at the House on the Hill, which is a lot of fun. Basically, it's a board game in which 3-6 players are exploring the neighborhood haunted house. The twist is that one of the party is a traitor. At some point the game, the traitor is revealed along with his plan. The traitor tries to accomplish whatever goals s/he has and the heroes try to stop him. You don't know who the traitor is or what the scenario is in advance; it's all random. Good fun for a group, and just about anyone can enjoy it.

Basketball plays Kent Sunday at 2. As it turns out, Kent chose their home MAC opener for their "let's try and sell out the gym" promotion, so it looks like the Bobcats are going to be playing in front of a full house on the road. Ohio hasn't played well at the M.A.C. Center recently, so I'm not too optimistic on this one.
On a vaguely related note, I owe a friend of mine a high-five and jealousy because he achieved the Impossible Dream, dating a volleyball player. I'm pretty sure his life is more awesome than mine now.

At the moment, I'm listening to "Story of a Girl" by Nine Days and it makes me feel good and sad at the same time. I'm weird.

Met Emma's boyfriend, Noah, today. Nice guy. We seem to have a lot in common, so we've gotten along pretty well. They seem pretty good for each other. Hope they are; she deserves a break to go her way.
A quick thought about relationship-esque things: I'm pretty sure TV and movies are to blame for this, but I realized at some point in the recent past that I'm terrified to do anything physical with women. I'm completely convinced that they don't to be touched, don't like to be kissed, don't want to have sex... none of that. Yes, it's insane, but whenever I'm trying to touch, kiss, whatever, I'm always thinking she doesn't want to, that only guys like this and girls just want to... talk or something. On a related note, I always like it 500% more when a girl is the one to initiate a hand holding or whatever. I'm pretty sure Shasta likes it when I pet her, though. So I do it a lot.

Anyone who's known me a while knows that for whatever reason, my roommates typically don't stick around for a while. Well, I have one that doesn't look like he's leaving anytime soon... and I can't stand him. He's a slob, he's dirty, and he doesn't do anything. The other day, he was smelling the room up so bad that I had to leave. And this is even with an Air Wick and employing Febreeze. He doesn't put his dirty clothes in a hamper or bag or anything; instead, he throws it all into one giant pile. Mind you, he has a clothing bag or two, but they've been incorporated into the giant pile. He moves it from his bed to his chair depending on which he's using. He's been sleeping in until about 6 p.m. He doesn't go anywhere, doesn't talk to anyone, just sits at his computer and does... whatever all day. Seriously. He doesn't move. Nobody other than his twin brother has ever come to visit him. I mean, is he even alive? Oy.

But hey, it's not all doom and gloom. The Australian Open starts on Sunday! And here is a very cool game that I discovered at random a little bit ago; it got Cheryl Sadler completely hooked.
Food for thought: Is Christianity in America a lie? Honestly, I think it is. A former professor once put forth the theory that there are two Christianities, a religious Christianity and a social Christianity. The people that belong to the latter don't really know or really care about the tenants and lifestyle of the faith, but use it as a rallying point for whatever it is they want to accomplish (see: gay marriage). The Religious Right is a pretty good example of this. Is their mission religious or political? It's hard to argue in earnest that it's God directing them when a lot of what they do flies in the face of the teachings of Jesus.

And I can't remember if I mentioned this, but some jerk has been stealing markers or breaking the tips off them from my whiteboard. Honestly, who does that? Why? It's not funny. I don't get people. If you have a problem with me, just come to me. I'd like to think I'm reasonable.