i do not understand why designers of remote controls intended for media centers make the play button the most prominent when it's the pause button you always hunt for. (Tivo, nice work. you're excused.) imagine watching a TV program and the phone rings or you child spills frank and beans on your new carpet. flustered, but consceintious enough to pause the show, you grab your remote and hit the big, giant ... play button? no. wait. where's the pause button, damnit! by this point, the person has hung up and the beans have seeped irreperably into the carpet. if only remote designers knew what the hell they were doing. if only.

after selling my car (finally!), going out for mediocre pasta in a restaurant full of jazz, and watching Robots on the IMAX screen, our cab ride home was beautiful. we listened to warm, cool tunes of Dean Martin (or was it someone else) as the driver mumbled along to the lyrics and peddled us through the city. my girl leaned up against my shoulder and i stared out at the sparkling lights of this city, the place i love to be.

goodnight, all. sleep well and dream of taxi rides laden with drunken jazz singers.

ow, it is way too early.

jets just flew over my office. it's officially Opening Day!

it occurred to me on the way into work today that the Bible is essentially one big giant game of Telephone, started by God.

my office is two blocks from PacBell, the Giants ballpark, and it's Opening Day. to be this close, in amongst the swarms of orange and black (and a tiny bit of foolish blue) actually makes it acceptable not to have tickets. plus, i'm going tomorrow night, bitches!

go Giants!

god, i love baseball. i'm so glad it's back.