The best thing to come from Cal football in a couple months.

Break out the rabbit food.

I'm pre-diabetic.

Glucose high, cholesterol high, triglycerides high, HDL low. Not a death sentence by any means, but pretty depressing news. I guess I've always expected genetics and a lifestyle of sitting at a desk and eating cheeseburgers would catch up with me, but I expected to be older when forced to make those changes.

I don't like fish, and I don't care for most vegetables, so it looks like a lot of chicken and salad (and chicken salad) from here on out. It's depressing enough I'm starting to weigh whether it would be better to live to 95 but be miserable for the next sixty years, or to live not quite as long and enjoy a steak once in a while.

At least my blood pressure is O.K. For now.

Rough weekend and beyond.

It was a ugly weekend, in more ways than one. Rhonda and I headed up to Berkeley Saturday for the big Cal-U$C showdown. The weather forecast was for showers. Unfortunately, it was a little off. Rhonda made me buy her a disposable poncho, and after half-an-hour, I swallowed my pride and bought a second one for myself.

Four hours and two interceptions later, Cal had lost a winnable game and I had added about five pounds in water to my wardrobe. It was literally like I had gone swimming in my clothes. I've been having some pain in my leg lately, and my calves are still sore and knotted from standing in the cold.

Tonight I'm still recovering. We watched the Niners game, or at least tried - they are terrible. The jury is still out on whether Alex Smith stinks, or if he needs receivers, or both. At least Cal has been competitive when they lose this season.

Also, I've been following the WGA strike. Whereas at first it just meant Daily Show re-runs, it now looks like a long wait until next baseball season. If there's no 24 or Lost and they stop running The Office, I might as well cancel my cable and save a few hundred bucks.

So to summarize, my leg hurts, my teams stink, my clothes are still damp, and I could be bored to tears this spring.

Time to get my jam on.

Rhonda and I are going out for a change tonight. Dinner at Gochi, then karaoke somewhere (but not at Gamba, because they are off in Japan). I'm a little skeptical. At least it's supposed to be a karaoke box, which is a must because I suck. They better have some good songs at this joint - Gamba has Tenacious D and Avenue Q, amongst other stuff.

I gotta figure out what my juuhachiban is in a hurry. That's your signature karaoke number. No, I don't know why that translates to "Number 18".

Better take it easy, don't want to be hung over for the big Cal-U$C game tomorrow at Memorial.

Getting things done.

I was productive this evening.

I washed dishes. I made some chow mein (OK, it was from Trader Joe's). Rhonda had tap class, and while she was out, I knocked four things off my seemingly endless to-do list.

1. I reattached the mirror to the closet door that fell off earlier this year.
   
2. I reattached the plastic bag holder to the door under the kitchen sink. The double-sided foam tape wouldn't hold it, so I busted out the Ryobi and put it some screws.
   
3. I wrapped the water heater with one of those insulated blankets that I bought two weeks ago.
   
4. I made ice.
   

Yes, something as simple as making ice, one of those things I always remember while I'm out but instantly forget about, filled me with smug satisfaction. As it is, there's an intangible manliness about home improvement tasks, no matter how mundane. Especially when power tools are involved. But I think it's part of my personality type to take great joy in beginning projects and finishing tasks. Too bad all the actual work comes in between.

But never mind that for now, I'm going to sleep easy tonight knowing if I want to drink something cold even though it's sixty degrees out, I can. Hopefully the mirror won't fall off the closet door to disturb that slumber.

Latest sign of the apocalypse.

Snoop Dogg set for Stockton

"Rapper Snoop Dogg will perform Saturday at a roller skating rink that former City Councilman Ralph Lee White built at his south Stockton estate, White said."

Guess it beats the hell out of Neil Diamond. Now the real question is: can Stockton behave itself?

Two Tickets To Paradise

Paradise, California, that is. My boy Marv and I headed up to the Chico suburb to visit my high school buddy RG and his lovely wife Jamie and their son Davan. After what was essentially a 48-hour binge of poker, beer, and football, I am back in the friendly confines of Stately Chan Manor, where it's going to be 37 frickin' degrees tonight.

The good news is, like Mikey, we were all big winners at the poker table. Well, we were all big winners at some point or another - Marv ended up a marginal winner and I came out ahead, but not like before I lost most of my huge take. At least I found out the Cal score, and it didn't ruin my night.

Good times, although Paradise was a little too natural and all that pollen has affected my delicate city-boy lungs. Or it could've been the poker room smoke. Either way, it was a nice weekend but I'm glad to be back home with my girl, settling down to watch IQサプリ, and trying to mentally prepare for going back to work tomorrow.

I'm back, baby.

Almost a year to the day!

I was never planning to abandon this blog - I tried to figure out what to do about the layout, how I planned to mess with the content, what I wanted in the sidebar. Add to that a complete lack of free time and motivation, and that's where the last year went.

I figure at this point, screw it, I'll just re-launch and make changes as I go.

So the first thing I will do with my new blog is completely ignore it for a few days - I'm headed up to Chico to visit The Greens with my boy Marv. So I probably won't have anything to report until Monday sometime, once my aging body has recovered.

Oh yeah, I have thrown Friendster under the bus and have allied myself with Facebook. You can find me there, although all the action (ha ha, yeah right) will be right here on Blogger.

Peace out!