Blue moon, you saw me standing alone

There's going to be a blue moon this Thursday, at least here in the US: for the second time this month, there will be a full moon. This is by the definition of a "blue moon" being the second full moon in a calendar month. Interestingly, due to where the day is, the blue moon--by this definition--will apparently be happening in May, June or July of this year depending on where you are in the world.

This type of blue moon is fairly infrequent, last happening in July 2004. There is also another type of blue moon: when 4 full moons happen within a season (Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter), the third one is called blue. This last happened in August 2005, and will happen again next May.

Now, apparently there's an even rarer condition, where smoke/particulates in the atmosphere can cause the moon to tint blue in color. This is usually regionalized, and given the recent smoke here in South Florida may actually already be happening here...

In any case, for more info on Thursday check out this article.

Blue moon
You saw me standing alone
Without a dream in my heart Without a love of my own

Let's go crazy, let's get nuts, let's look for the purple banana 'til they put us in the truck

So yesterday, post going to a wedding with my friend Vanessa (in Bo-ca), I noticed on Facebook that there's a group called "America is a continent, not a single country." So I proceed to check out the group, in an attempt to confirm whether/not it is the USA-bashing group I think it is. And, it pretty much is.

The purpose of the group is to make people--I'm not exactly sure who--aware that the term "Americans" can refer to anyone who lives in America (I hope), and not just the USA. Some of the discussions in the group are trying to disassociate the term Americans from people who live in the USA (in which case, no one in the Americas would refer to themselves as Americans, interestingly), and my favorite, the continued "continentalization" of Central America.

Now, for a few years now, I've had this problem with individuals trying to free Central America from the confines of the "North America" label, leaving only three countries (Canada, USA and Mexico) in North America--where the Caribbean goes in this labeling scheme, I'm never quite sure (I don't think the people who separate C.A. out like this really care, and actually they tend to ignore them--which is semi-hypocritical, since they tend to be pissed at USA culture for ignoring CA to begin with, which is why they want CA to be on par with NA and SA). In my mind, North America is from the Arctic Greenland (not one of the 3 apparently) to sub-Equator Panamá; Central America and the Caribbean are both sub-regions of North America (and Greenland is just a big Danish territory) .

As for the "Americans" label there's a discussion arguing that USA citizens should stop being referred to as "Americans"; that it's unfair/a misnomer that the term refer only to USA people. To this, I simply say: you are Americans, start calling yourself that, and quit trying to disassociation the USA from the Americas. What? You want the USA to move to a different continent? Or you don't want to call yourself "Americans" due to all the negative connotations associated to it? Start making new associations to the word.

All this, and I'm not really even addressing South America, though it doesn't really seem to be at issue for the group, so I won't muddle things further by dragging them in... nor point out that I wonder how mch of the group is actually in the USA at the moment when they are arguing...

So when u call up that shrink in Beverly Hills
You know the one, Dr. Everything'll Be Alright

Ha ha ha, bless your soul, you really think you're in control?

Well, I guess fittingly, this week has turned a little crazy. Monday and Tuesday were fairly normal. On Tuesday, I spent most of the day, off-and-on, trying to use the word berserk in stuff I was writing, only to avoid it because I couldn't recall how to spell it (at least until I figured it out later in the evening).

Also pesky on Tuesday, I found/realized that I got beat--in my Masters age group--last weekend by .01 in the 200 back by a guy I beat in Houston back in March, and may have been beaten in another event by that amount to. (But, somewhat thankfully, my 50 back time did get beat by 2 people: I don't know if the distance swimmer in me could've handled being rank #1 in the 50 back and the 1650 free... tho it would've been cool.)

Wednesday, I turned my phone on post-practice to a message from my friend Tammy telling me she and another friend (Sarah) were in Fort Myers for the weekend, and decided to come over to visit for the evening (read: crash dinner plans). Post dinner, the three of us hung out for a wee bit, which got me to bed late.

Then last night, a bunch of us went to see Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End (except for FLIan, who ditched us to see Shrek 3--bah!). I quite enjoyed Pirates 3, much more so than the second one, actually (and Keira Knightley looked nice as well...). But in order to see it last night, it required dashing from the pool in order to get to the theater on time (which paid off, because the first preview was for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix).

But getting home from the movie just after 11 caused me to get to sleep past midnight again, which led into today, and the start of the meet I'll be volunteering at this weekend... it's just kinda gone rather quickly. And on top of that, I've barely gotten any reading in (necessitating more "Crazy" songs... although I now have today's Gnarls Barkley version stuck in my head: tho I like that the video looks like a Rorschach inkblot; they sounded good live on Letterman as well...).

Anyways, I'll will hopefully get a good night sleep tonight, since I won't be sleeping in too late on Sunday... so I will say hasta and head to bed.

There was something so pleasant about that place
Even your emotions had an echo
In so much space

You drive me crazy, I just can't sleep...

I "hit" a drawbridge (on 17th Street) on the way home last night from dinner...
luckily I didn't have to wait too long (even though I got there before the bridge went up), so I got home in time to row for 30 minutes and (finally) watch The Black Dahlia.

And I'm still on my 'crazy' song kick, though I need to finish American Psycho soon: I'm running out of "Crazy" songs... (and while I'm mention the book, I'll also mention that I like how they've split "Ameri- can" on the cover, which is reminiscent of the main character's schizophrenia).

You drive me crazy, baby
Get excited, I'm in too deep (oh-oh-oh)
Oh but it feels alright

That kind of lovin' sends a man right to his grave...

the past 24 hours:
Post a frantic-ending at work (pesky Friday), I arrived home to find squished in my mailbox a letter from the *new* at&t (formerly BellSouth) stating that they couldn't send me e-notification that my bill was ready to be paid because the email address they have on file for me is "incorrect" because they had a failed delivery to it. This caused me to note 2 interesting things:

1. The post office's recent fee change, which includes higher prices for things that can't be bent, apparently may mean that any mail that doesn't pay this surcharge will be bent--which is wrong (but I'm blaming Congress, cause they force the Postal Service to do stuff).
2. at&t must be sending out too many mass emails, so that their servers are being tagged as a spammer, because they have the correct email address for me. If it failed, it's because of actions they have done.

Anyways, so after getting my mail, which matched my bent-out-of-shape mood post-work, I quickly packed a bag and headed over to Fort Myers with one of my Masters teammates (Blake), for a 5K we swam this morning. The 90-minute drive over on Alligator Alley--the part of I-75 the cuts across the state from west to east coast--was uneventful, with only the still-burning fires in the 'Glades of note (the pic at right is of the smoke arising from the fires into the air; the smoke has kept Lauderdale overcast for the past week/so). Oh, upon leaving Alligator Alley, we drove past signs for the Corkscrew Sanctuary, which left Blake and I pondering if it really was a place to save wine bottle openers...

Upon arrival in Fort Myers Beach, we found the hotel, had dinner and then wander around, scoping things out. It was actually a nice night out, with the moon but-a-sliver and stars in view (which I don't see in FtL due to the ambient light). I attempted to take a picture of the night sky to have a keepsake of this; however, it didn't work out so well (left): the lights in question are actually of a building that was along the beach. (I did share this picture with one of my other Masters teammates--Vanessa--who's in the Seattle area at the moment for Masters Nationals, and she seemed to appreciate the humor of it: I call it "Beach at Night". She'd also requested pictures from this weekend).

However, this morning's picture from outside our hotel room turned out much better:
This shot even includes part of the race course, which started just on the other side of the pier. (The white area below the pier, between the shore and the first structure on the pier, is the finish line.)

As for the 5K swim, it went alright. I went 1:00:30 (one hour and thirty seconds) which was pesky for not only being so close to being under an hour, but also because I got 4th overall and one of the 3 people who beat me was in my age group--dagnabit! (And in case you're curious, Blake went 1:27, and dropped 15 minutes off his time from September.)

Post race, we hung around a wee bit for the awards, ate some lunch and then headed back East. When I got home, I proceeded to take a bath to relax/wash off the race numbers. The numbers were marked on both upper arms (pic'd at left), hands to lower arm (mine where upside down, so that they read 441 instead of 144), and on each shoulder blade. And sitting in the tub apparently caused some a lot of the ink to rub off onto the tub, so now that the inks off of me, I now need to get it off the tub. (And just so you know, I also have the numbers tanned into my skin: very faintly, but in the right light you can see them.)

Anyways, this is approaching way to close of a novella and I've got some further scrubbing to do, so hasta...

Yeah you drive me
Crazy, crazy
Crazy 'bout you baby
What can I do, honey

But we're never gonna survive, unless we are a little crazy

Well, since Tuesday, I...

• went to the airport way too early in the morning on Wednesday,
• worked (part of which entailed learning there was a swimmer at the recent Japanese Nationals with a last name of Hitomi--which is probably pronounced Hi-to-mi, but it's really close to Hit-on-mi),
• went to the bank,
  
• coached Wednesday night's practice (the coaches are out-of-town; it went alright),
• went to the pool early this morning to drop some stuff off, and then came back home and napped,
• worked again, and
• swam tonight's practice (but was the first one since Monday night).

And tomorrow, post-work I head to Fort Myers for a 5K swim on Saturday (my friends Claire and Gina actually swam their 5K today--it was the USA Swimming one, I'm doing the Masters one Saturday). All of which means that I probably won't be watching The Black Dahlia DVD I've had for over a week now until late Saturday or Sunday. It also means I should be getting to sleep soon (cause, hopefully, I'll swim in the morning).

So I will sign off, I will not mention Heidi (which apparently is also how some Southerners say hello--think a variation of "Howdy")--like I promised I wouldn't, Jarret--and maybe read some... so hasta

K...razy are the people walking through my head
One of them's got a gun, to shoot the other one...
And yet together they were friends at school

I'm crazy from trying, and crazy from crying

On Sunday, I finished reading Baja Oklahoma and briefly began re-reading Huckleberry Finn. However, my trip into those Adventures didn't really get started: I ditched out before I'd even gotten through the Introduction. This primarily had to do with the fact that the Introduction went into a debate about the book's/Twain's use of the "N" word , and how one should read the work defensively to protect against... something. I just kept getting more and more bewildered as I continued reading, so I just stopped in hopes that some of it would sink in and start making sense.

My main impression is that the author thought that people would read the book and take it as a gospel account of the times, and/or of the type of people portrayed, specifically related to Jim. I guess I temper myself while reading fiction--maybe like the Introduction's author wants--so that I don't really believe/trust that it's an accurate portrayal of how things were. But, near-as I can tell, that is what the author was worried about... that, and that he identified with Huck rather than Jim (although wasn't Twain's goal/purpose to have the reader identify with Huck... regardless of the reader's qualities?).

The other thing I came away with, because the author briefly mentioned the term "Negro" as an alternative to the "N-word", was that elemental symbols could be used as an euphemism for both: Neon (Ne) and Nickel (Ni)... or even Nitrogen (N) for that matter...

Anyways, my confusion in the Introduction caused me to abandon reading Huck for now, and move onto something more sane: American Psycho. Course, it has the Nitrogen word in it, as well...

Worry, why do I let myself worry?
Wondering, what in the world did I do...
Oh, crazy

Come on, let's sweat...

Scenes from the FINA Diving Grand Prix--Fort Lauderdale...

Yesterday, I spent the early afternoon, on what turned out to be a very humid FtL day, sweating-up-a-storm while volunteering as a drug-control chaperone at the diving event at the pool.

Yesterday's portion of the Grand Prix consisted of the finals for 3 events:

• woman's platform (which my friend Laura--not the one moving to Boca--unfortunately didn't make the final)
• men's 3m springboard, and
• women's synchronized platform (Laura was in that).

(The picture above is of someone with Gatorade walking in front of one of the Chinese divers practicing a handstand on-deck before headed up the tower, during the women's platform final.)

My job as a chaperone was to notify and then escort a selected athlete to the doping-control area for testing. The people to be tested where pre-determined by placing (it was posted prior to the event that 1^st and 2^nd in each event plus one other randomly selected place would be tested--there were 6 divers in the first two finals, and I believe 7 pairs in the synchro final). Once notified, the chaperone shadows the athlete until they report to doping control. As an athlete has 60 minutes to report following notification (assuming they don't have another event that day), one can end up shadowing someone for awhile. Mine reported at 50 minutes; the 3 from the women's platform event all dove in the synchro final and when to testing after that (which meant their chaperones where following them for over 3 hours).

So, for the 4 hours of the event (I went through a brief training prior to it starting) consisted of sweating waiting through the women's platform final (they assigned male chaperones to males, women to women), then spent the men's 3m final (the warm up of which is pictured at left) purposely watching the participants and monitoring the event progress. My concern with watching the men's final was so I could discern who the 6 divers were, and find traits that work hold once they got dry/dressed (there was an Italian, a Brazilian, 2 Americans, and 2 Chinese--that was their dive order as well). I spent most of the final trying to spot ways of distinguishing between the 2 Chinese divers, as they were the 2 I was having the most difficulty telling apart (not that they looked very similar, mind you, just that they were more similar--to me--than the other 4).

Shortly before the men's event started, I was assigned the winner to notify and follow. Upon completion of the event, I notified him (who happened to dive at Texas just after I swam there) and then got to follow him around as he got dressed, got his award, was interviewed, talked to his coach, watch a round of the women's synchro final (which has started while he was being interview), and finally take him to drug control. Then I was done.

I returned to the pool deck, and caught the end of the women's synchro final. The wind had picked up some, which helped cool things a bit, but probably wasn't ideal up atop the 10m-tall platform (not how full the flag is at the back end of the tower in the pic at left).

All-in-all, not too terrible. I even managed to get home with enough time to cool down before the ISHOF Induction dinner, which was a nice affair--but those events aren't really my thing (the food was good though, and I only sweated a little while putting on my coat and tie).

Anyways, I need to jet again: time for the LMSC awards luncheon. So, Happy Mother's Day... hasta

Everybody dance now
Come on let's sweat, sweat...
Let the music take control
Let the rhythm move you, sweat
Sweat...

I want the Frim-Fram Sauce with the aussen-fay and sha-fafa on the side...

<--The scene of the crime, so to speak... (also known as the parking lot of the pool). And actually, it was pretty vacant when I took this pic this morning (although there is a car double parked, per norm).

And last night, post-movie, I found out what's stored in the "P.O.D.S." (Portable On-Demand Storage) container (in the middle back of the pic) that has been occupying a parking space for over a year now. The container is home to a beach-patrol vehicle (very golf cart-esque) that city officials use to patrol the beach area; which is way different than the overflow storage for which I thought it was being used. (It also makes me wonder why a parking space isn't used...)

My weekend has stumbled into a very social--and rather packed--one. Post-practice last night (I found a spot :) Keith, Heather & I (both Masters swimmers as well) went to go see Spiderman 3 (the pre-mentioned movie). I'm not a terribly big fan of the movie series, but did still enjoy it, despite 3's lack of a violin-version of the theme.

As for today, I swam this morning (7-9) pre-Masters practice, then hung around to help out with the Masters practice (9-10). Sometime in the noon-hour I'll head back to the pool to help out/watch the FINA Diving Grand Prix stop that's in town this weekend (a fellow Longhorn, Laura Wilkinson--who was on the team while I was at Texas--is diving platform synchro today). The diving's from 1-4. Then I'm headed to the International Swimming Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony tonight, beginning at 6.

Tomorrow, after sleeping in (hopefully), I've got an local Masters awards banquet starting at 1 p.m., to occupy my Mother's Day away from Mom. Maybe I'll be able to squeeze in watching The Black Dahlia, which I have from NetFlix at the moment...

Frim-Fram Sauce

But, in any case, I need to jet and get back to the pool... so hasta.

You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere...

From one lot to another... (or snarky, snarky, snarky)

I'm skipping swimming tonight, and only because I couldn't find a parking space at the pool. That's it. I'm sure I'll run into someone who'll tell me that I should park at one of the adjacent lots and go, but I don't. On some levels I refuse: I've already paid to park at the pool. Granted, it's a flat yearly rate, but still. I think I should be able to park at the pool, and only there. I have my standard, as arbitrary and bad as it is, and it's created an expectation in me of where I can and will park.

Now, not helping me be ok with venturing elsewhere and having to pay (again) to park was the traffic jam that was the lot today. The pool lot is narrow, with only one 2.5-car-width driving space down the middle and a row of spots on each side (the north side of which floods every time it rains--read, it's flooded all summer, despite the fact that--or possibly because--the intercoastal waterway is right next to it). One car (rumored to be one of the team's coaches) decided to double-park, blocking off one side of traffic through the lot. Then, added to this, were parents stopping in the other direction, waiting for their children (and not using the drop-out/pick-up area 10 steps away) or paying--because they forgot to.

So I was stuck in the back of the lot, waiting for people to realize they weren't the only people in the world needed to move to let the cars behind them move, when a woman (reminiscent of the one from Monday night--but in a different car) comes up and asks me if I was going to (double) park where I was (she needed to get out, and I was behind her car). I told her I wasn't, and she asked me to move, apparently not concerned that there wasn't anywhere to go, and that she would only be making things worse by backing out. But she insisted, so I tried to appease her: only to look in my back window and see that a car had pulled within 6 inches of mine (due to the crowding). Anyways, I managed to zig-zag out from being directly behind her, she pulled out, and then proceeded to get out of her car to go talk to the people not moving. (Why she couldn't have done all this with her car in the spot, I don't know.)

Her exiting from her car caused about 1/2 the other people in-cars to exit, and do something (I'm not sure what). I got asked to move again, again with no where really to go, and then finally one of the cars up front decided to move and things cleared--slowly. All this irked me, and made me just leave... I was completely in the wrong frame of mind to swim--and probably still am.

The worst part: this isn't the first time this has happened, and given how things tend to operate here, it won't be the last (hell, I'll probably miss tomorrow night for the same reason). I guess I shouldn't expect too much: part of the reason the parking lot was so crowded was because the International Swimming Hall of Fame (ISHOF), located on the back of the property, was having an event for which they decided to section off the back portion of the lot. This is the same ISHOF that's having it's biggest event of the year this weekend, and yet if you go to their website right now, that event is pushed off to the side (as if it weren't really that important) so that they can glorify a recently deceased sponsor (and not the huge inductee that recently died: Brazil re-named their Nationals in her honor). At least, that's as near as I can tell (no offense meant to my buddy Jarret, their webmaster: I don't think he get to decide what is displayed prominently on the page: he just puts it there... he did do a very nice job on the website design/look, and he's even updated his blog! I was beginning to think his back injury was caused from not being used to posting...).

Anyways, enough snarkiness.... Maybe I should blame it all on the recent smokiness cause by the wild fires to the west of FtL, or yesterday's first Tropical Storm of 2007 (Andrea)--3 weeks before Hurricane seasons officially starts. Or maybe it's all because I didn't grow up swimming for FUN, la Federación Uruguaya de Natación (the Uruguay Swimming Federation). Or maybe I'll just wallow in it all, instead.... hasta (hopefully tomorrow will be better)

Maybe together we can get somewhere
Any place is better
Starting from zero, got nothing to lose
Maybe we'll make something
Me, myself, I've got nothing to prove.

Parking is such sweet sorrow

I was not going to post tonight. I was going to take the day off, and try to get to an every-other day posting rhythm. But an event tonight spurred my desire to post, coupled with me failing to recognize yesterday as 05-06-07 (which I didn't realize/remember until like 10:30 last night)... et voila... (Jarret, you best be proud of me: I could've--and probably should've--been meaner than I was...)

Post-practice tonight, a small group of swimmers (just 4 of us; the rest bailed, including an invited non-swimmer/soon-to-be-Boca resident) went to have dinner at Zona Fresca--a nearby burrito place. After eating, it dwindled down so that just Meredith (one of our Masters coaches) and I were the last 2 to leave (not long after #3 left).

As we were going into the parking lot and walking to our cars, we were continuing our conversation that started at the table. And by the time we'd reached our cars, we'd not finished, so we were hanging out by them, chatting.

That was, until about a minute later, when some woman (possibly with a Jersey accent), called out from her rolled-down window telling us to leave. She was "late meeting her friends inside" and needed a place to park. "Parting is such sweet sorrow and all", she said, and "that's what your cell phones are for."

Now, I don't really have a problem with trying to get out of parking spaces to free them up. I do, however, have a problem with being forced/coerced out--Jarret a few months ago even called me mean for purposely sitting in my car and waiting out someone who started waiting for my space before I'd even gotten to the door of my car (it worked too--but I'm on a 12-step recovery program now, and trying to behave better :).

This woman just irked me. What I really wanted to do was just stay there. I wanted to responded back with "well maybe you shouldn't be late", "there are other places to park", "so I shall say good night until the morrow", and "I don't want to finish this on the phone." But did I? No. I stalled a bit, and left, quietly--but not without some aghast leers in the woman's direction. I was even tempted on the way home to return to Fresca and hover over the woman's table, telling her I was waiting for her to leave so I could sit where she was. But didn't.

And making it worse, Meredith called to finish the discussion on the way home--living up to the pushy woman's demand!

At least the people who hopped onto our table when we got up there didn't push us out (and they were actually happy that we were leaving and thanked us for freeing up the table--most nice of them). This is just another reason why I don't feel I'm living in the South anymore: this scene would not have played out like this if it were. The woman may have asked if we were leaving, but would have asked, not told. Not ordered us to go.

But another plus: it caused me to review Act 2, Scene 2 of Romeo and Juliet, where today's subject comes from, and remember it's also where "...what light through yonder window breaks?" and "O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo" can be found. And of course... "anon" ;-) (I had wanted to describe it as "chalk-full" but apparently it's "chock full"; but it's also not a very accurate way to describe the scene.)

Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow

And all the sunshine banishes the dark...

Un dimanche après-midi à l'Ile de la Grande Jatte by Georges Seaurat, 1884-1886

Since, I'm not spending today in the park (with/without Georges), I thought I'd post Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grand Jatte instead (particularly given a recent reference to it on Facebook and because the French Presidential elections were today--early reporting has Conservative Nicolas Sarkozy as winning).

I'll think I'll go watch Ferris Bueller's Day Off now...

(Oh, by the way, this is my 200th post [yeah!], and the new fridge is in--after a pay-off to the delivery men--along with stuff from a grocery store last night.)

And it's you and me in the summertime
We'll be hand-in-hand down in the park

No se puede vivir con tanto veneno

A little Shakira for Cinco de Mayo
(although I like today's song, No, more for its guitar rift than the lyrics, but speaking of venom...)


As I was driving around today after the Masters meet up in Pompano (the picture above is of some of the participants hanging around in the shade on deck), I ran into road stoppages due to the Air & Sea Show--I'd call it a "closure" but the roads weren't actually closed.

So I was driving home from eating, post-meet, when I came up to the traffic scene at right. This light is about 3 blocks from my condo, and today I got to sit at the depicted spot for 20 minutes, waiting for FLPD to allow the light to cycle again. Twenty (which is why I had enough time to snap the pic). I could've walked home from there in the time I waited, and I was tempted to do so. Just leave the car parked in the middle of the street... it was right near the grocery store too.

But I didn't (I did get out of my car and stand with the door open for awhile), and the light was finally switched to green and I got home.

As for the meet, it went alright. I purposely entered all the 50s, which I typically avoid due to my lack of sprint ability, so I'm not really sure how I did (fly=24⁸⁰, bk=26²³, br=30³⁵, fr=24⁰²). Added to this was I assisted with timing again, which distracted from warming up and down a ton, but that was alright too... I do know that my free was faster than my fly (but my fly was probably too close to my free--my free should be faster), my back was faster than my split from Houston a month/so ago (good), and I'm a little bummed I didn't break 30 seconds in the breast (but can live with it). And on top of it all, I won high point for my age group and got a nice towel with the Hammerheads (the host team) logo embroidered on it. I might eventually get a towel from my own club one day to match (maybe if I start using the Hammerheads one at practice ).

Anyways, I will sign off here: I've got some more Arrested Development to watch and am looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow morning, so... hasta

No se puede vivir con tanto veneno
No se puede dedicar el alma
A acumular intentos
Pesa más la rabia que el cemento

Spiderman, Spider-Man, friendly, neighborhood, Spiderman

Spider-Man 3 opened today. Alas, I had to ditch-out on Jarret and not see it with him tonight. Instead, I was in POMP-a-no, swimming the first night of a Masters meet.

I guess it's a good thing that I'm not really wanting to swim all that terribly focused at the meet this weekend, because it was a little crazy tonight. There was a minor glitch with the timing/meet management system, which I volunteered to try and help with. I'm not terribly sure how much I helped, but the meet did get through its 3 events tonight (the 1000 free, 400 IM and 800 free relay). And, more importantly, I survived my 400 IM (swimming next to Biggie Lohberg) and two 200 frees (anchoring a men's relay, then leading off a mixed relay).

All-in-all, not so terrible, but it would have been nice if I'd warmed up or the water had been cool or if the lockerroom weren't like an oven (there's no ventilation in the back 3/4ths of the space--where the showers are--so it's a not-very-big concrete heat & humidity trap--I can't wait for tomorrow, when we're there during the day...).

Anyways, I should head to bed, so I can be well rested for tomorrow. But before I go, I will point out that my favorite 2 versions of the Spiderman theme are the Michael Bublé version and the violinist in Chinatown (both from the second movie, I believe)... hasta

Is he strong? Listen, bud
He's got radioactive blood

But all I can see is red, red, red, red now... what am I gonna do

Mayday, May Day, mayday... well, actually, May Day was yesterday, not today.

Anyways.... I wish I could spout off about how great my new fridge is, but I can't. It was supposed to be delivered yesterday, but didn't make it. Apparently it arrived damaged to the local distribution warehouse, so they didn't load it on the truck in the morning (which indicates a good thing: that they care about the product they deliver to me). Instead they called me (after I was already at work with my phone off) telling me it was not coming (which I found out as I was driving home to wait for it) and asking me to call to reschedule (the day as a whole by this point wasn't going too spectacularly, despite me find a lucky penny that morning--this just kinda added to things). At least I didn't make it all the way home before getting the message.

This minor fiasco did allow me to not miss the afternoon at work, which was good in that I had fiascoes things to address at the office. Surprisingly, the re-scheduling, itself, wasn't too frustrating. More irksome is that I don't really have any control over the delivery time, which specifically contradicts what the salesman told me over the weekend.

I left my phone on all day Monday, awaiting the scheduling call that never came--I did apparently win some contest, though I'm not quite sure what I won as the machine calling my phone was speaking Spanish and I really only made out "ganador" before hanging up. I turned off my phone around 5:45 p.m., as I was getting ready to swim. When I got out of practice--actually right before I took Monday's pic--I had a message from them, telling me when my delivery time was.

They called back earlier today--right as I was leaving the office (5:10'ish?), and told me when my deliver time was. The irksome part for me isn't that they are forcing the delivery time, it's that they told me I'd be able to pick the time, and I don't. The choice I got today was "pick this delivery time today, or another delivery day; you will not get a different delivery time." That's the part that bothers me.

This did give more days to clean out my fridge, which is good... particularly since Monday night's leftovers were just recently added (dinner on Monday night at the Cheesecake Factory was good :).

But there's solace a bit in submitting
To the fitfully, cryptically true
What's happened, has happened
What's coming is already on its way
With a role for me to play
And I don't understand, I never understand, but I'll trying to understand
There's nothing else I can do