I go into this journal entry with little purpose other than to catch up, since my last entry was almost two months ago. Much of the reason for that is that lately I lead a boring life. Travails are at a minimum (and my friends thank me for that, as it keeps the whining at bay), and most of my time has been spent at work, or preparing for an upcoming move.

Yup, that's right: the move I documented near the beginning of this journal is long over, and a year later, it's time to find a new place to live. The reason is mostly practical for my partner Rich: he has been commuting back and forth to Baltimore every day--about 70 miles. While I am not happy with the choice of median areas, I suppose it could be worse. We'll be living in Columbia, Maryland, which is closer to Baltimore than to DC, so the long commute will be mine: 51 miles of ass-to-front traffic. Rich drives against traffic, but I will be moving with it, which means my drive will be around 90 minutes each way, every day. If you have any No-Doz or books on tape, send them my way, because I will need to be awake and occupied. In the long run, it will be cheaper living, since my car gets far better mileage than his Explorer, and the rent is (marginally) less expensive than here in Fairfax, VA. It's also important for his kids: the boys are getting older, and with Gregory at the impressionable age of 14 now, he needs to keep close tabs on them--something he can't do when they are with their mom in Baltimore. It's easier for everyone. Well, except for me. The sacrifice is small though, when you consider the sacrifice he made for me.

Aside from that, I am celebrating the receipt of a care package from mom, which contained--a foot massager. Yes indeed, at this very moment, my feet are swimming in bubbly, heated water, and it is actually calming my nerves and making the cares disappear. My only fear is that the computer tower is relatively near my feet, so I need to turn the thing off, but it's relaxing for now, so I'll just have to be careful. After all, I don't want to relive the hair dryer incident (I had hair at one time) of 1988, when I almost eleotrocuted myself when plugging in the appliance when wet. The doctors say it has nothing to do with the occasional tww-itching and stt-uttering, but I'm not so sure, myself. It also reminds me of the true story of the dude who thought water cooling meant filling his computer case with H20, but that's a tale for another day.

In gaming land, I am playing Fable on the Xbox at last in preparation for The Lost Chapters, finished Dungeon Siege 2 not too long ago, and am spending some time with the Auto Assault early beta test. Fable seemed so ordinary when I first began, but it developed into something much greater as I progressed, and I find myself trying to take every quest and explore every nook and crannie. I took a husband, although I grimace when the game calls him my "wife." I also have a handsome assortment of tattoos, and the halo and translucent butterflies make me practically angelic, even when I am fully decked out in chainmail. My title, "Liberator," is growing tiresome though, so I need to take another. Chicken Chaser looks tempting, but won't fit my character, who has yet to chase chickens down at the beach.

Aside from that, I am enamored with Aimee Mann, the former 'Til Tuesday vocalist that has made quite a name for herself as a singer-songwriter, and wrote the gorgeous ballad "I've Had It," easily one of the greatest songs of all time. If you don't know Aimee's music, you owe yourself to grab an album; the Magnolia soundtrack is a good choice. Another song, "Stupid Thing," has also made its way into my psyche, and I mentally sing it even in my dreams. One of my rotating sigs is a tribute to Aimee, so keep your eyes open for it.

Well, friends, until later, I leave you with this line, from the pen of Ms. Mann herself:

Experience is cheap

if that's the company you keep

but I'll never get that disease

'cause I've had it