SEARCHING FOR MY PLACE
in the blogosphere... blogiverse... among the bloggerati... The number of blogs out there is so absolutely huge, I feel adrift sometimes, like Frank Poole in the vastness of space. Who to read? Who to link to? Who is out there? Dropping in on the few I visit everyday is not unlike eavesdropping on one of those tight, inward facing groups in Halo or JR's*, but without the cocktail. Those I've linked to and those I read - the innermost orbits around krooz - are an attractive lot, bearded, bearcubish, rugby-ing. I've detected other bodies, young drink-wielding party-types from Weho, Nebraskan plains-huggers, and the ubiquitous big apple denizens. And it takes a while to ascertain the strings of a blogger's life, the through lines that make up the day-to-day plot of his site. Yet while I've stayed close to the community that brings us all together under the krooz tagline, I haven't quite found those bloggers like me. Perhaps this is a good thing. Most of my days are pretty dull. Still, blog-wise, I feel sometimes like I'm sitting in the middle of Arecibo, listening to quasars while looking for a signal coming back. Whatever the hell that means...

*I haven't been in JR's in over a year, what with the smokeless situation over at Halo. But I will be celebrating Peg Friday there in two nights. Without alcohol. I read in FitnessRX for Men that alcohol inhibits the body's ability to burn fat for fuel. And I have this pound and a half of love handle I need to nuke in time for beach season. Plus PD's been keeping me honest about my diet.

WHAT WITH THE TIME CHANGE
and everything, I've been playing catchup with my life, and while I love it when the sun stays up until 7, 8, 9pm, I hate the week or so of adjustment I have to make to live fully in this new warped day.

PD put me through an intense and tortured workout, consisting primarily of 50-rep sets. Bench press, squats, triceps. 3 of each. 150 repetitions. "When you can't complete the motion anymore, then just lower the weight a couple of inches, but lock it out at the top!" he said, during the bench press nightmare. "That's looking a little easy, I'm not even breaking a sweat" he said after I howled through 48, 49 50... and then he'd load on some more weight. Sometimes he'd yawn, as if to say "your non-intensity is putting me to sleep!" He promised me more on Wednesday, and EVEN MORE fun next week. Oh Joy. Rapture.

I had an "I'm so very sick of Brokeback" moment last week when I saw the commercial for the DVD. Funny how they ONLY SHOWED SCENES OF THE GUYS HOLDING ONTO AND DANCING WITH THE GIRLS. Then I just had to laugh, when I saw the TBS promos for the Lord of the Rings, which they're showing next weekend. TBS did a Brokeback parody using Frodo and Sam, the ring, them hugging, you get the idea. That's just messed up: a movie about two cowboys in love is sold through images of heterosexuality, and a fantasy about little creatures saving a mythical land is sold through homo subtext. Granted, the LOTR promo makes fun of the myriad Brokeback parody previews. But it's some messed-up zeitgeist all the same!