My rib still hurts from snowboarding. I went back to the gym today and could really feel it doing dumbbell presses with the 100 pounders. I don't care; after watching the men's Olympic snowboarding I'm feeling inspired. Perhaps I can break a rib instead of bruise it next time. I will master the half pipe, or at least I'll learn how ride fakie for more then 5 feet in it. Never mind all of that -- I've taken another step towards true suburban male, Dick and Jane, American Beauty ennui with the purchase of gas barbecue grill (I already have a lawn mower). I'm gonna fight the good fight and stay current as long as possible, but it's only a matter of time before I feel like an adult. In a similar manner to the treatment of terminal disease, I plan on preventing the symptoms until my lifespan has been reached. The key is to avoid becoming a father, which is a concept I cannot fathom. Last Saturday/Sunday I slept for over twelve hours. Taking care of the cats pushes me to my paternalistic limits. I come home after 7 pm from work almost every day and cooking a meal that requires more then 10 minutes of effort becomes very optional. Taking care of little uslennar is not a pretty thought. I'll probably have 5 kids when I'm 40 years old...