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My god.  You can call me a geek, you can make fun of me, you can point and laugh all you want.  No matter what you do though, I swear to god Battlestar Galactica (2003-2009 version) is by far the best storyline, acting, drama that I have ever experienced in my life.  With all due respect to my English teacher, Mrs. Wright and her fascination with Shakespeare, Ronald Moore and co. have put him to shame. 

There are only four seasons in this story.  Season four’s midseason finale just aired and just like every other finale/cliffhanger that Battlestar has put out there this one is simply stunning.  The story that they are telling in this show and the way it is told is so foreign to television that I can’t remember what TV shows were like before I started watching BSG.  This isn’t science fiction, it’s a story of morality and the tests that we fail.  This is a drama, not the cheesy evil twin is tarnishing my name around town soap opera, this is tension wrapped in humanities failures.

There’s three sides to every story, most stories told show you just one side.  Battlestar Galactica shows them all.  The only other time I can think of that I’ve seen so many perspectives in a story is a book by Michael Dorris called, Yellow Raft in Blue Water, which is also a great book by the way.  For those that don’t like all those confusing words to read, go ahead and watch you some Battlestar.  For those that like the readings, get that book and watch you some Battlestar.

I can’t wait until 2009 for the last half of the last season.  This show is the only thing on TV that would keep me up until midnight after a 12 hour workday.  I’m so pumped and depressed and excited and confused I can’t sleep but I love it!

As part of my plan to drop pounds in order to get into better shape for this summer’s backpacking trip (either the Sierra High Route or the Circle of Solitude) and next year’s racing schedule (Death Valley Marathon, Mountain Warfare Training Challenge, Et al) I’ve been eating better lately.  I discovered what may be the easiest way for me to lose lots of weight, fast; sugar free gummie bears.

I bought a bag of these yesterday at Disneyland and ate them on the way home.  We got home right about five o’clock and I spent the next four hours either in or very close to a bathroom.  This morning when I woke up though, I had lost two pounds.  If I can keep up that ratio of 1bag/2pounds I only need a few more bags to get to a very ideal weight.

ps. stupid idea.

Well, I still haven’t written up any kind of trip report from this last sierra trip yet. I have to say it’s probably because I am still coming to terms with my mortality, which is something I experienced on the trip. Nothing spectacular happened, outside of the usual Sierra beauty, but Mr. Gant showed me that I’m not the top dog anymore. For the first time ever… since the Marines and Jolin/Engies tearing me up someone has outhiked me, significantly.

When I was panting up our failed Split Mt. attempt, he was yawning. He didn’t need breaks, he didn’t get tired and I am also pretty sure he didn’t use the bathroom. I can only draw one conclusion from these observations; D. Gant is not fully human. Once I get some definitive proof, I will be alerting the FBI abou this entire situation.

Outside of that, I’ve realized my body is fucking stupid and annoying. The better shape I’m in the earlier it wakes up. For the last couple weeks, since the Split Mt trip, I’ve been working out pretty hard, to try to keep up with Gant the next time we head out. My body seems to associate being in shape with the Marines, so it wakes me up somewhere between 5 and 530, what the fuck is that? It’s making me quite angry and I will be writing a sternly worded letter to someone if this continues much longer.

10.1.03

My cat pissed somewhere near my desk recently, so as I sit here typing this all I can smell is cat piss. Therefore all I can think of is the cat pissing, and me punching the cat in the face. It’s a little hard to concentrate with images like that going through my mind.

Tonight is the season premiere of Smallville, and as gay as I feel admitting to watching a TV show, I find myself strangely addicted to the story of a young Clark Kent, I’d like to blame Albert Perez for this.

I’ve always been fascinated by the character of Superman, I don’t think that’s too unusual for an American kid. Though, as I’ve aged I found myself wondering about smaller aspects of someone who is immune to bullets. I wonder if he has any fears, once you know that you are invulnerable , what could scare you? Does he have dreams where he’s falling, only to wake up just before hitting the ground? Is he strong enough to pull his own finger off? Does he ever experience rage when dealing with an asshole, like we all do, if so what does he do to keep himself from tearing the person in half?

Has his cat ever pissed near his desk?