I just stumbled across an account I wrote up a long time ago, that I thought I lost, of a trip I took to Germany for work in 1994. I post it here so I won't lose it. Man, those food descriptions make me hungry still.

Oddly, I can find no mention of the "Rabenleitte reservoir" I mention, anywhere else on the web except in this report.

Sometimes You Have To Tough It Out
For those of you who didn't hear, I traveled to Germany on business a few weeks back. It came about by a lucky "break" -- my project lead hit a patch of gravel while bicycling and broke his collar bone, leaving me to go in his place (the voodoo doll seemed to do the trick nicely). What follows is the complete trip report, in full boring detail. Because I ate and drank so well during the trip, I even decided to include a complete reporting of my meals.

*** Saturday, Oct 29 *** "More of anything?" "More of everything!"
Because my company travels by plane so much, we routinely get upgrades to first class. The beautiful thing here was, I *was* the first class section. That's right, I had all of first class to myself, including my own private (and rather comely) flight attendant, for eight hours. I was even offered any movie I wanted to watch. It's the only way to fly.

It seemed a crime to be getting paid for all this. Although, it soon dawned on me that figuring out the breakdown of work hours between Saturday and Sunday would be no easy chore -- flying across midnight over six time zones on the day they set back the clocks for daylight savings time. Oh well, sometimes you have to tough it out.

(The meal: Some sort of duck appetizer, greens salad, chicken in apricot glaze, heated raspberry tart, topped off with a whole bottle of German riesling.)

*** Sunday, Oct 30 *** In which Mark falls in love 37 times in the airport
I arrive in Munich, rent a car and drive two hours north to the US Army base at Grafenwohr, arriving at 11AM. The exercise our company's software was supporting was being run out of a large Oktoberfest tent there. I was unable to sleep on the flight, so I just decide to stick it out and stay up as late as I can to get over the jet lag. I put in a nine hour shift.

Hotels and guesthouses in the area are booked solid for the exercise, so the guesthouse (Gastof Weich) I end up in was a half hour drive away, in Hirschau. My room was a converted attic, very cool.

(Lunch: Schweinenschnitzel with potato balls. Dinner: Jaeger Schnitzel mit Spatzle, and a Pils. This was the meal I had been salivating for since two years ago, when I visited Bavaria for a couple of days.)

*** Monday, Oct 31 *** In which Mark visits Amberg
I visit the city of Amberg in the morning, just to walk around. Other than that, just a long day of work.

(I am forced to eat on base. Lunch: ChiChi's, taco and enchilada. Dinner: Hamburger from Burger King [the Burger Fuhrer, as it is known].)

*** Tuesday, Nov 1 *** In which Mark almost visits Czech
Drove out to the Czech border in the morning. The car rental place made me sign an agreement that I wouldn't take the car into any of the former Eastern Bloc countries, so I was hoping to just walk across the border. Nothing doing -- there is a very long line of trucks and cars waiting to get across.

(Lunch: The Burger Fuhrer again [sigh]. Dinner: Josefshaus [Hirschau] -- Jager Schnitzel again, plus several Thurn and Taris Pilsners.)

*** Wednesday, Nov 2 *** In which Mark enjoys the night sky
Long work day again.

At night, while driving back to Hirschau I notice how clear the sky is. I stop for about twenty minutes to lie on my hood and look at the stars. It is so quiet that the only car that drove past the whole time I am stopped is audible two miles away. Not for the last time on this trip, I think "life is good".

(Lunch: Fig newton from the PX. Dinner: Rahmschnitzel with noodles [excellent] and several Patrizier braus at the Gasthof Specht in Grafenwohr.)

*** Thursday, Nov 3 *** "My hovercraft is full of eels."
Long work day yet again, nothing terribly noteworthy, so let me wax philosophic on the subject of the German language and German phrasebooks.

German, at first blush, seems like it would be simple to learn. It is typically spoken loudly and clearly, and shares many words with my native English. I had in fact vowed to learn to speak it passably in time for the Schnitzius family reunion (which will be taking place in June 1995 [in Krov on the Mosel river in southwest Germany]), such was my confidence. Looking into the matter some, though, it seems that the German language is a nightmare of genders, declension, odd cases, and strange word orders (worse than English, from what I can tell). I will still be taking a course in it, but I am no hopeful of achieving anything close to fluency.

I tried to use as much German as I knew in every situation, figuring that was the only way to learn it. Also, it really is true that the locals will treat you better if you at least make an effort to communicate on their level. I had a German phrasebook which came in handy, sometimes. Most phrases in the book, however, such as those for asking directions, generated only a flurry of incomprehensible German in response. At this point I would always have to interrupt with a phrase I grew to know and love: "Ich spreche wenig Deutsche" ("I speak little German"). So the phrasebook was for the most part useless, except as a vocabulary builder.

(Lunch: I satisfy my chronic pizza addiction at the food court on base. Dinner: Jaegerbraten mit bratkartoffelen, "Eis und Heiss" for desert, plus several excellent beers.)

*** Friday, Nov 4 *** In which Mark meets an old German man by accident
Work is slow in the middle of the day, so I take off to find Rabenleitte reservoir, a place recommended in the tourist guidebooks that happens to be relatively close by. I soon discover that driving the back roads during the daytime can be a harrowing experience, due to the combination of slow- moving farm vehicles and impatient drivers more used to the autobahn. The reservoir was pretty interesting, as far as reservoirs go.

On the way back I make a wrong turn and end up having to make a U-turn in a parking lot. An old German man in a big beat-up van backs into my front end. We both get out of our respective vehicles but can do little more than point and shrug, since neither knows the other's language. Fortunately there is no damage. I was afraid I would have to dig into a certain section of my phrasebook that I was hoping I would never have to.

*** Saturday, Nov 5 *** In which Joe and Mark are the Ugly Americans
Long work day again.

This evening, after dinner in Grafenwohr, Joe (a cow orker) and I decide to drive back to Hirschau where we are staying and have a couple more beers.

(First, a quick word about the pubs in Germany. At least in Bavaria, all the pubs I went to were exceedingly similar, always consisting of the following ingredients:

they are part of a guesthouse;
they serve excellent food, consisting mostly of pork dishes;
wooden fixtures everywhere;
the feature beer of only a single brand from a nearby brewery, mentioned on a lit sign visible from the street; each brand, though, has several different varieties (pils, weiss, dunkels, etc.);
a gambling machine;
a long table at which the regulars sit
The German solution to drunk driving seems to be to always have one of these places within walking distance.)

Joe and I make our way to one such pub (Goldenes Lamm) just down the street from our guesthouse. We are the only ones there, except for the long table of regulars (who were eyeing us suspiciously). Eventually, though, they wave us over to their table.

In the ensuing mayhem, we manage some level of communication, despite the language barrier and copious quantities of beer. At one point I think we played darts, but I could be wrong. I do remember Joe teasing the waitress several times during the evening, and her successfully communi- cating her response through the effective use of sign language, if you catch my drift.

(Lunch: Fig newtons from the PX. Dinner: [Gasthof Specht] Rahmgeschnetze- something.)

*** Sunday, Nov 6 *** In which Mark recovers
Had a beer-free day today. The resulting sore throat I develop could just be coincidence.

(Lunch: Mexican food at ChiChi's on base. No dinner.)

*** Monday, Nov 7 *** In which the Tailhook Incident is relived
During dinner at a guesthouse in Grafenwohr, we are sitting at the long locals table because of the size of our group. A young GI approaches Mike (a member of our entourage) and out of the blue says "I think you're a scumbag. I saw what you did to that waitress, and I don't appreciate it." and walks away.

We sit in stunned silence for several seconds. We eventually figured out what happened: at one point earlier, Mike had turned around suddenly in his chair, and accidentally elbowed the waitress; he had to reach around her quickly to keep from falling over. The GI at the next table saw this and interpreted it as a grope.

We explained this to the old man that was sitting next to me at the locals table. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he said "Dvink more bier" (this guy was cool). "She can take care of herself." As several in our party were getting steamed, we leave before there is any incident.

(Dinner: Gasthof Specht, Rahmschnitzel again.)

*** Tuesday, Nov 9 *** In which Mark sees a musical god up close
During the week the military newspaper Stars and Stripes had mentioned a concert scheduled for this day in Munich that I desperately wanted to see -- Paul Weller (for the unlearned heathens, he was front man for the Jam and the Style Council). Since the excercise wrapped up early, I check out of my room and head down towards Munich again. Not knowing where exactly to go, where to buy tickets, or even how to speak the language, I am non- theless successful.

Paul was absolutely brilliant. Hairs were standing up on the back of my neck at several points. The only down side of the concert is that I am now addicted to secondhand menthol cigarette smoke. Muncheners are like chimneys.

Driving back to my guesthouse in Starnberg (outside Munich) I come to several disheartening realizations:

I have only just enough money to pay for my room;
There are supposedly a couple of teller machines in Munich that take American bank cards, but I have no idea where they are
The instructions for how to call back to the states are safely locked in Joe's head, which was now rapidly traveling westward.
I sleep fitfully.

(Lunch: Bavarian pretzel on streets of Munich [tough and stale]. Dinner: schweinenbraten and Hacker-Pschorrs at the guesthouse in Starnberg.)

*** Wednesday, Nov 10 *** In which Mark breathes a sigh of relief
I eat a big breakfast, because I do not know when I'll be able to eat again.

I manage to figure out how to dial the American Express emergency travel number; they inform me that there is an AmEx travel office in Munich that would let me essentially forge a check from my bank for cash. After getting lost several times I manage to find it. When I finally get the cash in my hand, I guess the relief is evident on my face, because the cashier says "You can eat now, yes?"

I head out to Ottobeuren, which features a Benedictine abbey that is really phenomenal. It is supposedly the crowning achievement of the Baroque period; so incredibly detailed that it is almost tiring to look at.

I then decide to head down and spend the night in the Alps. I find a guesthouse in Tiefenberg, outside of Oberstdorf, that has a nice view of the Alps from my balcony of my room. As it is nearly winter but skiing season is not yet in swing, I am the only guest.

[Breakfast: standard German fruhstuck with big spread of meats, breads, and cheeses. Dinner: [Oberstdorf] Chicken heine-something mit brat- kartoffelen. I discover why Germany is not famous for their chicken dishes.]

*** Thursday, Nov 11 *** In which Mark visits the Royal Castles
After getting desperately lost in the Alps, I make my way to two of the Royal Castles of King Ludwig II, Neuschwannstein and Hohenschwangau. Hohenschwangau is impressive but I would have enjoyed it more if I could understand a word the tour guide was saying. Fortunately, Neuschwanstein has a tour in English (Neuschwannstein, by the way, is the one that the Cinderella castle at Disney World is modelled after).

After these castles I dip down into Austria. I blow just about a whole roll of film in the vicinity of Plansee, at a beautiful emerald-green lake nestled in the Alps.

I return to Germany and check into a hotel in Oberammergau, which incidentally is the city where a massive world-famous Passion Play is performed every ten years. They apparently do a massive business of selling crucifixes and other religious knick-knacks here.

(Breakfast: basically the same spread as before, only with addition of a bowl of cold cereal in what appears to be curdled milk. Not wanted to offend my hosts, I try some, and am relieved to find out it is just peach yogurt. Dinner: Rinderschmorrbraten, with several Paulaners, in Oberammergau.)

*** Friday, Nov 12 *** In which Mark castles again
I set out for yet another Ludwig castle -- Linderhof. While smaller than the other two, Linderhof is nontheless very impressive inside.

The rest of the day I had just set aside to wander around through the Alps some more. Some cities I travel through: Garmisch-Partenkchn., Mittenwald, Walchensee, Bad Tolz, Gmund, Bad Weissee, Tegernsee, Schliersee.

I plan on just sleeping at the airport my last night so I head back into Munich. After pizza dinner (I was Jonesing again) I wander the streets in search of a bar to kill some time; I settle on a little French restaurant that has two beautiful women working the bar. Flirting in an odd mixture of German, French and English, I discover my favorite beer yet (Wiehanstephan Export Dunkels); after a few of these, I buy a couple to go and head for the airport.

(Breakfast: usual. Denied lunch because of the idiotic German law where all businesses close from 2PM to 5PM. Dinner: pizza in Munich.)

*** Saturday, Nov 13 *** In which Mark flies home
I sleep well in the airport, and board the plane in the morning. The flight home didn't quite compare with the flight out -- I was stuck back in Business class with the common folk. Oh well, sometimes you have to tough it out.

Some photos from the Perth trip here.

Good fun. Drank wine, spelunked, saw new birds, smelled flowers, saw Australia's southwesternmost point, listened to burned CDs of Fresh Air, Prairie Home Companion, All Things Considered, and What'Ya Know?. We miss NPR!

The cloud hanging over my trip to West Australia (which I'll be posting pictures of soon) was the fact that I have to give a speech tomorrow at work, to a big group of invited clients, on the subject of Web 2.0 as it relates to content management. Surely the biggest such speech in my career, and all the scheduled practice sessions and feedback from partners of the firm really bring home what a big deal it is. It's also really making me face up to my limitations as a speaker. I simply can't speak extemporaneously, and so I'm memorizing as much of it as I can, and relying on my notes much more than the two other speakers. I only have to speak for 15 minutes, but it may seem like an eternity, and I'm still worried that I'm going to get flustered or something, as I still sometimes do. But oddly I'm not really nervous. I just want it to be done with at this point. In fact I'm just posting this because I'm so sick of practicing this speech. I'll let you know how it goes.

Update: It went about as expected. I was a bit nervous, certainly noticeably so, but not debilitatingly so, and got through it okay. The last talk I blogged about I mentioned liking public speaking, but this one seemed more like a chore, and I'm just glad it's over.

You'll notice I have updated the Computronium blog in a while. I did take a couple of weeks off, but when I came back, I couldn't seem to log in, and so put off debugging the problem for another night. Well, it looks like the reason I couldn't log in was because the site was hacked. You'll notice that now all the posts are signed "Mazhar_Fashist", who is not me, and is probably a team of guys.

I'm steaming mad right now. Guys who do this sort of thing are like bombers at 30,000 feet who don't see the damage they do. Or worse, they know and don't care.

I'm having a hard time finding a description of how the hack was done (probably some sort of SQL injection) so I haven't fixed things yet. Fortunately it looks like their only goal is defacement. I'll probably have to reinstall the whole mess, but even if I do, how will I know it won't happen again? Wordpress, which the blog is run on, is a nice slick piece of software, but suffers from its own popularity, and thus is a target for hackers. I could try something less popular but there's always a tradeoff between popularity and slickness.

A festering pox on those assholes!

Weekend wrap-up.

Thursday night: The Hoodoo Gurus concert was fabbo. I forgot how many great songs they have, and left wishing they'd played for another couple of hours. Quick set list, from memory: I Want You Back, Leilani, I Was A Kamikaze Pilot, Bittersweet, In The Wild, Like Wow - Wipeout, Out That Door, What's My Scene, Come Anytime, Miss Free Love '69, 1000 Miles Away, Form A Circle, and a lot of newer stuff I wasn't familiar with. Oddly, they didn't sound as tight as they did when I saw them (cough) eighteen years ago, but they were still great. Opening act was Radio Birdman -- one of Australia's very first punk groups -- and Marjorie bought the t-shirt.

Friday: My soccer team's "vote count" night, where they tallied all the votes we'd been submitting after each game for top three players. As I knew, this was an off year for me, and I wasn't even in the top three vote getters for any individual game. But I finished tenth overall, which is not bad. Fun night though.

Saturday: Watched the first three installments of the "Up" Series, which chronicles the lives of a group of Britons from different classes, starting at age 7 and revisiting them every seven years. I highly recommend it; it's thoroughly engrossing. We'll probably watch the next three tonight, which will only leave the most recent episode which just came out (49 Up).

Today: Laika's getting a house call from the vet. Who makes house calls anymore?

Marji votes and Marky votes and little dogs need surg'ry.

After taking Laika to another vet and confirming that she needs surgery (worse still, her other leg is likely to come down with the same issue), we went off to vote for the first time since becoming Australia citizens. It's a local election, and seemed pretty similar to voting in America, except 1) it's mandatory, and 2) we had to fill in a number for each candidate, from one to nine, in the order of our preference. It's an interesting system -- if my first choice isn't in the running, my vote goes to my second choice, then on to my third, etc... I think it's a brilliant system, much needed in America, but will probably never fly, due to those with a vested interest in keeping the system two-party.

Then we went and saw Ratatouille, which gets my vote.

Our broken family. Marjorie: sprained ankle from rolling it off of our too-high welcome mat.

Mark: Two sprained ribs from a vicious kick to the chest. Oddly it took a week for any discomfort to appear.

Laika: Ligament damage to left rear leg, which will require surgery. The answer to your next question is "lots and lots of money".

Everybody out of the water. Marjorie is an expert on sharks, despite or because of being somewhat phobic about them, but her famous meltdown on a reef in Cancun is a story for another day.

For some reason, I've never seen a shark while snorkeling, and I've done a lot of snorkeling. I must emit a natural repellent. But being in and around the ocean much of my life, I've definitely seen a few.

The topper was one day out surfing in Melbourne (the Florida one) with my friends Earl and Mike just after high school. The conditions were perfect; warm sun, clear water, good sized waves, glassy conditions. There were probably thirty guys out, but there was no peak spot so everyone was getting a lot of waves. Things were fine and carefree until a school of sharks, each probably six to eight feet long, decided to mingle with us.

Things can get exaggerated in memory, but I'm sure there were at least twenty of them. The weird thing is, only a couple of guys went in to the beach. The conditions were so nice, and the sharks were swimming about so lazily, that it was hard to believe that these sharks would want to spoil the party.

They definitely added a nervous tension though, like bikers crashing your keg party. You could see that, where surfers normally sit on their board waiting for waves, a number of guys were lying prone instead, so their feet weren't quite so dangly. To make the sharks seem less dangerous we started naming them. One in particular (who I think we named "Fred" for some reason) popped his dorsal fin up right in the middle of the triangle formed by myself and my two friends, as we were sitting only twenty feet apart or so.

There's no exciting ending to this story, fortunately or unfortunately; we just shared the water with them for a while without incident, and came in, a little bit exhilarated and maybe a little bit relieved.

Marjorie and I both cracked up over this New Yorker article. Jim, this one's especially for you.

I had pretty much given up on social networking websites, after efforts on Friendster and MySpace, but I've been convinced by workmates to give Facebook a go. It does seem a good bit livelier in general on first blush. So like come join and stuff.

The days are just packed. On Saturday, golf with my soccer mates; I shot a 76. Okay, that was thanks to Calloway scoring; in the real world, I shot a miserable 110, and that's parring 3 holes. It's like, I'm playing at least once a year, but for some reason am not improving. Still lots of fun.

Sunday, our soccer match was an absolute classic, and reminded me why I still play. Fought back from 3-0 down against a bunch of prats; took a 4-3 lead, let them tie it again, then won the day with a late goal.

Last night we saw Ryan Adams from a far closer to the ceiling of the venue than the stage. Unfortunately he's still going through his tortured artist phase and played in near darkness all night; for the first two songs, I even thought the black silhouette of his backup guitarist was him. But they at least sounded amazing.

My trip home today took a little longer than usual.

I was leaving on our office elevator when it decided it didn't want to go any further. It clunked to a stop and the digital readout switched off. I looked at the clock on my phone: 5:35pm. There were five other people stuck with me; we called the emergency line and settled in for a long wait. One woman had just talked to her husband who was waiting by the curb. Another was on his way to a movie. Nervous jokes were made about how much air we had, how high up we were, etc. Everyone had cell phones and could connect out, fortunately, so there wasn't a lot to fret about. We weren't sure where exactly we were stuck, but had guessed in the basement carpark level, because we were only hearing noises above us. The repair guys made it there relatively quickly and the doors finally opened at 6:20. Turns out we were on the 14th floor. Not fun, but without plans for the evening, I figured I was better off than some of the others stuck with me. Forty-five minutes can't be too bad for elevator repair time.

We have a new nephew! Wesley was born to Marjorie's sister last night our time. A little before predicted, but well within the drop zone. Weighing in at 5.8 pounds. Huzzah!

On several occasions in the past I've used this forum to geek out a bit, but I usually hold back.

So for my birthday this year I bought myself a new website, with the primary purpose being to start a blog where I have free reign to geek out. I've spent a couple of weeks setting it up, and now it's pretty much ready to go. I also spent some time just writing down topics that I want to blog about -- I came up with about sixty-five, plus another dozen or so that could be attempted with a little investigation, so I'll have no shortage of things to write about!

The main theme will be computer programming, with occasional asides into astronomy, math, and physics. So I hereby annouce Computronium: the blog. Let me know what you think!

Took a nice long walk around Albert Park Lake today. Saw a rakali, which was cool; I've never seen a rat dive before!

During a stop for lunch Laika escaped and bolted off to confront a black swan. Bad idea. Luckily Marjorie was able to grab her lead, but not before Laika crashed into the water. The lady serving us lunch told us that these swans have a tendency to drown dogs by sitting on top of them while they're trying to swim.

Through a combination of nature shows and personal experience, we have learned that you NEVER mess with swans, badgers, hippos, cassowaries, or hyenas (besides the obvious poisonous critters).

There's a tradition in my family that whenever we would move somewhere new, I was always the first family member to need to visit the emergency room.

I kept this tradition alive since marrying, too -- in Singapore I had to go in for kidney stones. Well, today I got to visit my first Melbourne emergency room. Nothing serious -- I knocked heads with a guy on the soccer pitch and lost. Three stitches in my hairline at the very top middle of my forehead, and an ugly abrasion on my cheek. I think it's the first time in soccer that I ever went down and stopped caring about the run of play. Head wounds bleed, big time, so I as soon as I put my hand to my head, it came away covered in blood.

Luckily there's a guy on our team that used to do facial surgery. He set me up right, and got me on my way. I was in and out of the emergency room in just over an hour, and all covered by Medicare. I even was back to work the bar for the first team three hours later.

Today for my birthday Marjorie stayed home from work and cooked me a Thanksgiving dinner. How good is that? I skipped lunch just so I could make a bigger pig of myself. Turkeys are pricey down here but we get a lot of meals out of one bird. She invented a new dessert for the occasion, too -- she blended vanilla ice cream with Maltesers in the food processor and refroze. Yum!

Friday night we invited people from our respective workplaces out for drinks to celebrate citizenship. It was good fun, especially now that the pubs are smoke free. Marjorie led a quick "Aussie Aussie Aussie!" ("Oi Oi Oi!") cheer during a toast.

Sudden citizenship realization: we have a queen!

Aussie Aussie Aussie! Our nationality is now officially hyphenated. We had our Australian citizenship ceremony last night. Check out some random photos (sorry about the random ordering, but Flickr stupidly allows you to only create three photo sets for free, so those are retrieved by tag).

It started with the mayor reading a huge list of apologies from elected officials that couldn't make it. Then there were speeches from the two (besides the mayor) that did attend; one was Aborigine and talked about her ancestors, which was interesting. Then we did the swearing in, and the handing out of certificates. They pronounced my name as "Schitznius". *Sigh* We also got plants to plant, and a pin. Finally we sang the national anthem (badly).

There were maybe thirty of us who were getting sworn in, and surprisingly, twenty-one different countries represented. The ones I remember are: Vietnam, New Zealand, UK, Samoa, Poland, Singapore, Sri Lanka, South Africa. I think we were the only Americans this time around.

They signed us up to vote straight away. There were tea and sandwiches afterwards, but we went out for a nice dinner at The Dogs Bar (sans dog) instead.

To infinity and beyond! I never understand people who denigrate anything modern, and pine for an earlier time, when art was better. They miss out on so much. I'm sure people like that will have ancestors who will look back on our time as a golden age, and continue to ignore the great works produced in their own future time.

Today we checked out the Pixar exhibit at the ACMI. I'm a big fan of all the Pixar movies I've seen (and am looking forward to Ratatouille). Even without the animated exhibits, this would have been worth attending, just for the artwork. The skill involved in their storyboards, color sketches, and close up studies is plainly evident. Add in the brilliant characterizations, story lines, dialog, and world-building, and it's clear that these movies will be timeless. It's amazing also to see how much work they do and later discard. One quote they had posted gave an idea of what it must be like to work on one of these movies; they describe it as everyone involved holding hands and jumping from an airplane, and then building the parachute on the way down.

The highlight, though, was the zoetrope. This video doesn't quite do it justice but you get the idea.

Back in my old hometown of Atlanta, they're tearing down the old party district, Buckhead. While I long ago outgrew it -- well before I even left Atlanta -- I must admit I had some excellent times there, back in my post-college, new in town, swinging bachelor days.

But now is not a time for talk of such things. Today marks the nine-year anniversary of Marjorie and I's [*] first date. Happy anniversary, baby! She's all sickly though so it doesn't look like we'll be doing much.

[*] Surely "Marjorie and I's" is wrong? But "Marjorie and my" doesn't sound right either.

My company had its end-of-the-fiscal-year party Friday night, which I had an excellent time at (well, I'm almost certain I did). It was held at the bowling alley downstairs from our office, and we had a tournament. I bowled out of my skin all night (136, 148, 144, and 115) and ended up finishing fourth. It was won by our resident Olympian (he actually has a gold medal for playing on the field hockey team for Australia) who was a no better bowler than anyone but turned it on at the end, finishing the final round with three consecutive strikes in the final frame. I guess that's why he's an Olympian.

There was a company bar tab, which I overindulged on, shall we say. Marjorie came to join me later in the evening but pretty much had to just rescue me. I don't remember anything after about 6 p.m., including the tram ride home and the pizza that Marjorie made me eat (bless her heart).

When I lived back in Orlando I famously passed out in the back seat on the way home from club hopping one night, and suddenly startled awake saying, "David Koresh!" for no fathomable reason. Well, I've got some new ones from Friday night; as I was passing out on the couch I apparently started saying nonsensical things, like "George Clooney is kind of creepy" and "Look, Tony got a split" (the latter apparently having something to do with bowling).

Bummed! I just went to buy myself an internet domain, only to find that it's already been taken. I had the perfect name -- schnitzi.us -- not least so that my email could have been mark@schnitzi.us, but someone just snagged it, only one month ago. That was my one and only idea for an internet domain. Phooey.

Weekend roundup: Friday night -- karaoke with some of Marjorie's work people. We signed up to sing The Pogues' "Fairytale of New York" which probably wasn't the best choice for the crowd we were in (who were doing all sorts of cheesy 80's songs). Fortunately or unfortunately, they couldn't find the song, so instead we ended up singing Pat Benatar's "Love Is A Battlefield" (complete with shoulder shakes like the video), which had more of the proper cheesiness. Good fun, and we even stayed out past one (shocking).

Saturday night Marjorie indulged my current Gilbert and Sullivan obsession by going with me to see The Mikado. Despite being a small production, we thought they put on a damn good show. Of course, they had to modernize it a touch -- Ko-ko's version of I've Got A Little List was sung about a list he was keeping on his palm pilot, and the words were modified to talk about people talking loudly on cellphones, for instance -- but all in all it was a very good production.

Middle Park's soccer woes continued again this morning as we dropped yet another game. We played very well but couldn't score as usual, and we allowed a late goal on a perfectly struck free kick to lose it 1-0.

Clean joke.

A talking dog goes into a hardware store and says, "I'd like to apply for a job."

The owner says, "Um, we're not really hiring right now. Why don't you try the circus?"

The dog says, "Why would the circus need a plumber?"

How eccentric was my last Saturday? I went and saw The Pirates of Penzance by myself, then went shopping for ukuleles, and finished the day drinking port and playing Balderdash at some friends' house.

The next day we went on an organized lagoon around Aitutaki's lagoon with Aitutaki Adventures. Part of the tour was showing us all the places where Survivor: Cook Islands was filmed. We never watched the show, but by the accounts we heard, the Survivor people were very conscientious and everyone there was happy to have them. (The tourists, maybe not so much, because they took every free room on the island.) The tour even started from a jetty that the Survivor people built for the show and left for the islanders.

The tour itself was quite amazing. We started just by stopping out in the middle of the channel, where very large turtles (not sure what breed) were popping their heads up left and right. There was no wind, and the water was exceeding clear, so we could see them swim by with no problem. We could also identify fish species easily twenty feet down, and also saw a number of giant clams. The lagoon is full of patches of coral that come up and almost reach the surface, so one must be careful navigating.

We stopped by some of the outer islands, and saw some nesting birds (red-tailed terns) that are apparently very rare. The snorkeling was great; we stopped in four different places, and it was all just a big tropical fish tank. The coolest sighting was probably a spotted eel. They had a big spread of lunch for us too, which was very nice.

We headed back to Rarotonga the next day, and rented a car. I had a tip that the place to buy a ukulele there is at the prison; apparently the prisoners make them. So we tracked it down -- it's not that big of an island -- and Marjorie sent me in by myself to inquire (how could she not be curious about a prison on an island in the middle of the Pacific?). But it was a bad tip; all they had was cheap touristy ukes. There was another beautiful one I wanted to buy that I saw on our first trip through at the music store, but we came back through for Saturday and Sunday only, when all the stores were closed. Phoo.

We did a brief hike up into the hard-to-find Takitumu conservation area. If ever there's a place to spot dinosaurs, this was it, but instead we only maybe spotted the rare Rarotonga Flycatcher that's endemic there; we never got a good look at it though. Actually, if you see anything other than a mynah bird or a chicken on the Cook Islands, you're doing okay; the birding was disappointing.

We had another great snorkel experience on our last full day, just picking a spot off the side of the road. For some strange reason, I had a posse of fish that followed me around the whole time, and swam in a circle around me. It was really bizarre. We have pictures of it, which we'll post eventually.

Arriving back in Melbourne airport, we checked our messages to discover that the repairs on our toilet were far from finished. Lovely. Just what you want to hear after an eight hour flight; that you don't even have a working toilet to go home to. That killed any happy island buzz that we had accumulated, in an instant. Our landlord arranged a hotel for us, that we soon came to realize was the dingy Bukowski-esque down the street from our first short term apartment here, that we used to walk by and make fun of. To give you an idea -- our dog Laika likes to roll in dead birds and fish on the beach. When we took her by the hotel she immediately keyed on one spot on the floor and started rolling in it. Presumably that was where they found the dead junkie. We ended up staying only one night there, but keeping the keys just to have a place to run to for a working bathroom.

It was Tuesday night we arrived back home; they finally finished our bathroom on Saturday evening. Do you know how great it is to have a working bathroom again? One of the many things we take for granted.

After the last post, things went from bad to worse, as the next day the rain just, did not, stop. We had planned to get up early but ended up sleeping in past noon because we could hear it pouring down. There was no let-up all day. Even the lagoon filled up with silty run-off. We just putzed around in town again the whole day, and went to bed with a combination of depression and antzy stir-craziness.

The next day we flew to Aitutaki. More rain was scheduled, but from the moment we landed there was nothing but clear blue skies and bright sun. (Cue choir of angels.) Our resort, Etu Moana, is gorgeous and lovely, and we're right on the water. They have free bikes and sea kayaks for us to tool around on. The lagoon is turquoise and clear and full of fish.

The air is so clear here that at sunset you could even see the clouds that were partway over the horizon. After it went down I could see the Milky Way for the first time in as long as I can remember. We went to dinner at an outdoor cafe, and a cricket landed on Marjorie. Her shriek was relatively mild, but I'm still counting it. That's four down, three plagues to go.

We went for a (hot) jog this morning and now Marjorie is getting a massage, while I'm blogging from here down the street. (My massage is later.) Tomorrow we are going on an organised lagoon tour. Our spirits, as you might imagine, are much improved.

Kia orana from Rarotonga! This is supposed to be the driest month of the year but it's been nothing but gray skies and intermittent rain for the day and a half we've been here. Luckily the place we're staying has internet.

On the way out we spent a night in Auckland, which wasn't enough to see much (especially since it was Sunday night and everywhere was dead). So we just had dinner at (this is sad) Wendy's (hey, they don't have them in Melbourne, and there's nothing particularly notable about New Zealand cuisine) and a drink at some back alley bar. I was glad that Auckland seemed to have a very different vibe than Melbourne, or anywhere else I've been for that matter; it's hard to characterise, and I don't know if it's particular to Auckland or NZ in general. We'll be back before long though I'm sure to give it a proper visit.

Rarotonga, even when sopping wet, is pretty cool. It's completely surrounded by a reef, and huge waves have been crashing into it as long as we've been here. There's a mountain peak overlooking us that we may try to hike up to. The Cook Islanders look just like you'd expect Polynesian people to look; the women in colorful dresses with flowers in their hair, and the men big and strapping. Sadly, the only birds we've seen are mynahs and chickens.

Today we took the bus to Avarua, which is the only town on the island, and the closest thing to a metropolis for 1000 miles in any direction. Shopped, ate, drank, had ice cream, and befriended a local dog who followed us around through the rain (so I had to name him Tom). Saw the ukelele I want to buy, which I'll get on the trip back. The stores here sell coconut bikini tops like from the musical South Pacific; I've told Marjorie that when we get to Aitutaki, that's all I want her wearing. She thinks I'm kidding.

Hopefully things will be clearer tomorrow so we can get our feet wet and see some proper fish.

Marjorie's not the skittish type, but three times already this month, she's screamed.

Last week Laika pounced on a mouse in the kitchen, shook it, and mostly killed it. (I had to take a hammer to it to put it out of its misery. Ick.)

Then, last weekend, she found a dead rat in the backyard. We don't know if Laika killed it or not, but of course it was me again that had to dispose of it. At least it was dead and required no hammer.

This morning, on her way out, she discovered a large centipede in her purse.

That's three down, four plagues to go. Who knows what we'll encounter in the Cook Islands?

Down the street from us is the Rats of Tobruk House. Such an unusual name; of course I had to look up what this means soon after I noticed it.

Well, last month a big "Auction" sign went up on the house, which I thought was sad. But the story has a happy ending.

I had been so dreading the return to work on our company's contract with a certain maker of tourist guidebooks. The people were nice, but the project infrastructure was hell, and the commute was a total pain (especially with winter coming on). But now it looks like, due to an increasingly acrimonious dispute between our companies, that the contract is dead in the water. Deliverance!

Everyone still has a few personal effects out on their work site. The running joke is that this is like a breakup, and we're going to go out there to find all of our stuff thrown out on the lawn. All we have to worry about now is our company finding a "rebound" contract, or making drunken phone calls to them at 2 a.m....

Everyone in blogville is commenting on Vonnegut's death. Who am I to be different? I've only read three of his -- Slaughterhouse Five, Sirens of Titan, and Galapagos. But I had been meaning to hunt down some others. Sad to lose such a brilliant and original voice.

"We are here on Earth to fart around. Don't let anybody tell you any different!"

Night bears. Our dog Laika dreams, which probably means that dreams date back at least to our common ancestor, which is a long long time ago. You can always tell -- her paws start twitching, and she whimpers. One time she even howled, which we can't even get her to do when we're awake. But I've always wondered whether they're happy dreams, or scary ones.

Usually she sleeps on her side. But last night, she fell asleep on the couch with me in an unusual position -- on her back. The practical effect of this was that her tail was freed up, and sure enough, when she started dreaming, her tail wagged. That can only mean that the dream, at least at the start, was happy. Isn't that sweet?

So my niece is into anime. This seems to be a trend that passed me by. For the most part, I don't get it. I'm sure that like anything else, though, there's good and bad.

But even comic books, I was never into as a kid, at all. I only ever owned one, and it was a birthday present from a neighborhood kid. I still remember it -- it was from The Witching Hour series, but I'd be hard pressed to say which one of those it was. I thought it was kind of dumb.

Which is all a prelude to saying that I just finished the first of Neil Gaiman's critically acclaimed "graphic novels", The Sandman: Preludes Nocturnes. And guess what, it seemed like just a comic book to me, and I found it very much like every other comic book I've ever read. I don't get what the fuss is all about. But in it he did name-check a lot of older comics, I noticed -- including The Witching Hour.

My review of the Pixies show the other night can be found on my MOG.

In other news, it's about Easter, and I haven't gotten a call back from The Rich List, so I guess it's not going to happen. Alas.

The new CD by The Shins came with a sticker to promote the band. Marjorie asked, "Where should we stick it?". We both thought a minute, and didn't come up with any place.

I think maybe that one's maturity level can be measured by the number of places one has to put stickers.

Wow. These kinetic sculptures are really cool. Watch the vid.

The audition for The Rich List was today. They held it in the function room at the local German cultural center, and a LOT more people showed up than I was expecting -- maybe 120. The first part was a standard trivia quiz. There were forty questions; I started really strong, but stumbled a bit at the end. No matter -- I scored a 24, and the cut off was 18. Everyone under that was out. That whittled us down to sixty people or so.

They took a Polaroid picture of us next, that they attached to our questionnaires. (Of course, I blinked at just the wrong time.) Then the guy running it forebodingly asked if we had ever seen Australia's Got Talent. The thing was, each of us remaining had to get up and demonstrate a talent for thirty seconds or so, "or you can just talk about yourself, but that would be boring." We were given a raffle ticket, and we were called up in random order. I was thinking, "Please, please, give me time to consider this a bit." Luckily I wasn't called until about half way, so I had time to plan my shtick. Some people told off-color jokes, and some sang nursery rhymes, but lots of other people were just talking about interesting experiences they had, so I just did the same. It went basically:

Hi, I'm Mark, and I'm American, as you can probably tell by my accent. Or as I like to think of it, my lack of accent. [Mark pauses for laughter, *cough*] One interesting experience I had was that last year I participated in a naked group calendar photo shoot for charity, down along the Yarra River. The Age did an article about it, and of course they chose the one picture where my naked bum was directly in the front row. Do, uh, any of you recognize it? [Mark turns around and shows backside.]

Shrug. People laughed, but I stumbled over my words a bit, as I'm prone to doing, but it could have gone worse.

Then it was off to the one-on-one interview with the assistants. They asked a bunch of wacky questions, like, if you could pick a superpower, what would it be? I babbled something about super speed so I could avoid all the recent train delays, blah blah blah. There were a few others along those lines. I don't know, it seemed to go reasonably okay for the most part. That was the end of it; we just wait for a callback from here. I don't rate my chances as excellent. But it's possible. They promise to contact their selections by Easter. So, no news will be bad news.

Questions from The Rich List's contestant profile questionnaire:

1. List some of the unusual/quirky/interesting experiences of your life so far?
2. What is your greatest achievement and why?
3. Would you describe yourself as a gambler? What is the biggest bet you have made?
4. Are you a member of any clubs (sporting, academic, social)?
5. What would you describe as your best and worst character / personality traits?
6. Do you read newspapers, magazines, books? Which kind and how often?
7. Do you watch quiz shows? If so what shows?
8. Do you attend trivia nights regularly? [note: bing!]
9. What are your interests? (Please list as many as possible and be specific):
10. List your 5 top movies of all time
11. List your favourite bands/artists of all time
12. List the 5 TV shows you can’t miss
13. Who is your favourite actor/actress celebrity?
14. List the sports you love to play and/or watch
15. What book series and/or author do you read?
16. Where have you previously travelled in the World? Where would you like to travel to?

Audition is Monday at 2pm, which is a bloody inconvenient time. (If I'm going to appear on an Australian TV show, I can use words like "bloody".)

C'mon, big money! To heck with hard work. I've signed up to be a contestant on an Australian game show called The Rich List, after a friend of a friend walked away with $250,000 dollars (pre-tax, natch, but still). I figure it suits me because I like lists and am generally a cesspool of useless information. We watched this evening's show -- the contestants had to name as many countries as possible that were formerly part of the Soviet Union but were now independent countries. Naming all fifteen would have gotten them $250,000, but I'm pretty certain I could have gotten twelve, which would be a cool $150,000.

In other news, Marjorie's friend Kristina is on her way back home after a lovely visit. Highlights include a trip to wine country, the Melbourne Museum, the Immigration Museum, and the Healesville Sanctuary.

See? We're not freaks -- we're at the forefront of a trend.

I've got a killer idea for the internet that's too much work for me to build alone. I'm trying to decide what to do with it. The more I think about it, the better it sounds, too. Let me see if I can describe it well enough to convince you.

There are lots and lots of forums around the internet where you can sign on and discuss all sorts of things. And lots and lots of sites -- like this blog -- let you add comments.

The idea is a thing that will let you comment on any site on the internet, and to see comments left by others. It would be a browser "plug in", which means that it would just be an extra button on your Mozilla Firefox or Internet Explorer. The button would turn redder the more recently comments have been made. You click the button to pop up the comments/forum. The comments themselves would be hosted on my (hypothetical) company's server.

The advantages as I see them:

1. Instead of having to have separate accounts on separate websites, you would only need a single login. I already have trouble remembering all my passwords.

2. Similarly, you'd only ever have to deal with a single unified style of comment forum.

3. Because the comment forum attaches itself to web sites but is not affiliated with them, you are free to say anything you want. So go on over to that local politician's web site and let everyone know what a schmuck he is. If a dodgy company tries to rip you off, go tell everyone about it, right on their own website (essentially). You can say nice things, too. Comment on any news article in any online newspaper. Sports, politics, religion, books, movies, shopping -- really, anything that has a web page, you can hold a discussion.

There are still some functional issues to resolve, but I don't see any technical roadblocks. There's a few other ideas I have for it, but that's the gist. It's a fairly straightforward idea, and I think it has the potential to give all of the internet a more populated feel, as you surf around and see what everyone is commenting on.

I used to be a good tipper -- twenty percent in restaurants, and usually a dollar on a pint of beer. Australia has ruined me. I still tip ten percent at nice restaurants -- they say that's expected, but no one seems to mind if you don't. But most restaurants we go these days, I tip bupkis. Bars, too.

Everyone from down here (or England) really hates that part about visiting the States. I don't think the service in the US is that much better for it. If we ever move back, that's going to be a hard thing to readjust to.

You'd think we missed the whole Texas Hold 'Em craze, but no, it struck here too. Many pubs have Texas Hold 'Em nights, and they show the competitions (celebrity and not) on TV frequently.

I've skipped it, because I've never been particularly adept at poker, preferring euchre, hearts, spades, or (very novice) bridge. But tomorrow our company is having a poker party, so tonight I'm hitting Yahoo Games to at least learn the rules.

Not much else new. I've started soccer practice again; the hip is not perfect but I'm easing into it. Lonely Planet work is going. I've discovered where they put the books you're allowed to take (seconds and old editions) so our bookshelf has been swelling. Um, and Extras is the best show on TV right now.

We're back from part two of our experimental vacation week. This time, instead of asking "Can we survive camping?", we asked, "Can we vacation with the dog?" So we bought her a car harness (for her protection and ours) and drove down with her to a nice little cottage we booked in Rye, where we passed four days visiting wineries, padding through tide pools, and generally making gluttons of ourselves. All was lovely but the dog's not too keen on being left alone in an unfamiliar place. Not that she destroyed anything, but she was very clingy when we came back from our excursions.

Back now from our first ever camping trip. I knew that sleeping bag I got Marjorie for Christmas eight years ago would come in handy some day.

We headed down to Wilsons Prom, and had a loverly time.

The beach just off our camp site, Norman Beach, was maybe the nicest beach I've ever been on. The sand was like it was filtered, it was so soft; the water was crystal clear, the setting beautiful, and there was hardly anybody there. We also took a hike over the tidal river to Squeaky Beach.

I'm too bony to even sit on hard ground, much less sleep on it, so I had trouble with just a foam pad and sleeping bag. The first night I couldn't sleep so I got up to look at stars. There weren't that many visible, just because the full moon was too big and bright, but I was still treated to the incredible view of a low blanket cloud streaming over a distant mountain range directly under the full moon. When I came back to our site, one of these guys was sniffing around the space between the car and the tent. I woke Marjorie and we went chasing it through the woods.

A few new birds spotted, most notably a number of swift parrots.

Scary coincidence -- the people at the next site started playing some music, and straight away I recognized it as my funeral song that I just mogged about. As another data point that there's no such thing as omens, I wasn't eaten by a great white the next day.

We'll go back at some point, I'm sure.

We saw the Pretenders over the weekend at nice venue. We were supposed to see Paul Kelly and The Church as well, but we FORGOT THAT WE HAD TICKETS to this show until we got a call from the organizer at around 4:30.

I blame early onset senility. Anyway, they were really good. Chrissie was in fine voice, and looking damn good, too. At one point she played a song I didn't recognize, what I thought was a good song, and said that it was "for the two people who bought our last album". I was going to post a link to it but I can't find much reference to any recent album by them since like 2003. What gives?

What, another? I've got a new myspace-y kind of deal going on over at mog.com, which is (yet another) social networking site, this one for music geeks. I'm even blogging there a bunch, at least for the moment, so if you'd like to watch me take a metaphorical bubble bath in front of you while nattering on about bands you probably have no interest in, drop on by.

The music fairy visited us, apparently. I was thinking of tracking down some of Phoenix's earlier albums, since I liked their recent one so much. Today I was looking through our collection and found a burned copy of their album "United" that neither I nor Marjorie had ever listened to, or even noticed. And neither of us has any idea where it came from.

Was this a gift from any of you that we somehow just shelved and never played?

Here there be dragons. Another nice bit of novelty on Saturday as we went for a snorkeling trip in Port Phillip bay, two hours south of the city. Animals that actually touched my hand included:

• A weedy sea dragon, which is what we went down there to see
  
• A black-lipped abalone (worth about $40-$50)
  
• A sea urchin
  
• A puffer fish, caught by the guide and actually puffed out like this
  

Fun day. Fortunately, the seal and penguin colonies are around the other side of the peninsula, and these guys don't really ever wander into the bay.

A fun new experience Friday night as we went out to see the cricket (it's always "the cricket" in that context, not just "cricket") with some of Marjorie's work friends at the Melbourne legendary MCG. I brought along a printout of this page which explains cricket so Americans can understand, and ended up quite enjoying it, despite occasional confusion. The results were good too. It lasted from 2:30 to 9:40 or so (and bear in mind this is the shortened version of cricket), but we didn't show up until 5ish. Probably the biggest crowd at any sporting event I've ever been to, too -- the attendance topped 78,000, and the crowd was as much fun to watch as the match.

In May, for our fifth anniversary, we're going to have our honeymoon at last. (Yes, we've been around the world, but have yet to have an official honeymoon.) We're booked to go to the Cook Islands, or more specifically, Rarotonga and Aitutaki.

I knew working at Lonely Planet would be dangerous.

Actually, this is probably the first trip ever that we budgeted and saved for (as opposed to "Hey, we have $500 in the bank, want to go to Chicago?"). We are going to splash out for a few nights at a nice resort in Aitutaki (the true cost of this trip may well be that we become spoiled for the inferior resorts -- you know, where the commoners stay).

We'll have one night in Auckland on the way, too, which will probably leave us wanting to visit more of NZ. The list of places to visit only ever grows...

I'm a fan of 007 movies so much so that I've boycotted them all for the last ten years or so. It's the snotty purist in me. They've evolved into everything I hate about Hollywood blockbusters. Big special effects, moronic plots, and emotionless superhero protagonists who sleepwalk from one scene to the next. Connery used to sweat, man.

The reviews for the new one, Casino Royale, lured me back, trepidatiously, to the theater. And you know what? It was good. I was a little worried after the slightly over-the-top opening chase scene, but they reeled it in, and actually made Bond an interesting character again. A huge step in the right direction.

I'd tell you to go see it, but if it's too big of a hit, then the same bozo producers who've been ruining the series will get called in for the next.

Happy New Year to all -- ours started nice, a small gathering with friends, and fireworks in four directions from their rooftop patio.

Beyond taking a hiatus from alcohol, my other resolution seems to be to try again to make it through Joseph Heller's "Something Happened". This'll be my third try. Not because the prose is difficult -- in fact, you won't find a book that's written more clearly. Just because it's such a downer. Reading it is the literary equivalent of a solo trek across the Arctic Circle (all stark beauty and zero warmth). This time along I've packed a sense of ironic detachment, which should see me through.

I had no detachment at all tonight, though, as we watched the final episode of Six Feet Under. So much so that I can't write about it yet...

Was greeted at work yesterday morning by the fastest animal on Earth -- a peregrine falcon. She brought along a pigeon for breakfast as she perched just outside the office where I was working, twenty-seven floors up in the center of town. She sat there for about forty-five minutes, reducing the pigeon to a pair of wings and a rib cage, which she courteously left for us on the ledge. Better than dropping it on some passerby's head, I guess.

I got a new phone with a camera on it from Santa, but it went kaput two days later. So the above photo was from someone else in the office. Seems everyone has a camera phone these days. We saw Modest Mouse last night, and the little LED displays were a constant distraction (not that I wouldn't have taken a photo if my phone had been working). Really good show, and as a bonus treat for Marjorie (an old Smiths fan), Johnny Marr is now a member.

The year in music. Not at all a banner year for me. I can only think of four new albums that I got at all familiar with:

Augie March, "Moo, You Bloody Choir". Strummy pop. Local boys done good. Contains the line of the year: "Love came to you like a bolt from the blue/And what is a bolt but a glorified screw?"

Ron Sexsmith, whatever his new one was called. Forgettable.

Jet, "Shine On". More local boys, but you wouldn't know it because they never play here. A solid effort.

Phoenix, "It's Never Been Like That". (Marjorie scored a copy by flirting with the guy at her coffee place.) Probably would have topped my list no matter what else I listened to. Bright guitar pop from a bunch of French dudes (in English though). Rare in that it stands up to both the close listen required of serious song-based pop, and also as just background atmospherics. Mark says check it out.

Tomorrow we're off to see Modest Mouse. Woop!

Reasons why Christmas in Australia is a pale imitation:

Hardly anyone puts out Christmas lights. It's light until almost 9 pm this time of year anyway.

There's no Thanksgiving, so there's no day-after-Thanksgiving shopping madness day to set the tone.

No cold weather. Although Christmas started in the middle east, the northern hemisphere totally pwns it now. So much so that they spray fake snow on Christmas displays. (Today's forcast though: "Mostly cloudy with showers. Local hail and thunder. Fresh to strong and gusty southwest to southerly wind. High of 16C -- about 60F.")

A Christmas Story only shows on pay per view.

USA: A Charlie Brown Christmas. Melbourne: Illicit wombat/platypus love.

We miss you all very much!

Silly season. Christmas party was fun. I kept the mo' because there was a pirate theme. Only one photo is known to exist of my costume, and it's from behind. (Recognise the bird, Mom?)

The mo' is no mo'. Marjorie is glad. Thanks to all who donated.

Marjorie's party was fun too. Just a few more holiday gatherings to get through. Then, we're going alcohol-free for the month of January (at least until the 26th, when we're going to a concert at a winery). I'm all about the month-long self-improvement exercises these days.

Not much new, but one has to report in every now and again, if one is to keep a blog.

Last weekend there was a haze of smoke over the city, and the smell of burning countryside. Very hot and dry, but then the weather changed (in about a minute, like it always does here) and conditions improved. Things are still burning however, and spreading from the high winds. No danger to us here though.

Slammed at work, trying to learn all the Lonely Planet stuff while still supporting my previous project. December is my least favorite month. Always stressful. I blame Jesus.

I've kept the mo' for now, because our Christmas party this Friday has a "pirate" theme. Marjorie's sick of it. After all my pleas for sponsorship, she's wondering who she has to pay for me to shave the thing off.

For no reason at all, here's a list of the places that I've flown through but never visited:

Dallas

Phoenix

Cincinnati

Houston

Brussels

Hong Kong

Reykjavik

Auckland

Who would've thought that after all these years, facial hair doesn't actually look all that bad on me, by most accounts. Check the beard, the goatee, and the subsequent mo.

Yeah. It's all well and good until you realise that I look like this guy. So family, friends, do me a favour, okay? Go here, and enter my Rego number (5917) and your credit card details to sponsor me. It's for a good cause.

Novelty: a new wine, a new sandwich, blah, blah, blah... Grew tired of tracking the new things I was doing every day. I'll still try to keep it up for the month, but the exercise has already proved enlightening. It seems that more days go by than I thought where I don't do anything new or creative. Several times I've had to scramble at the end of the day to find something that qualifies. I have a theory now as well, that whenever you find yourself thinking "Man, this week/month/year has flown by fast", it's probably because you had a high number of days that were no different from the others during that time period. That will always be a warning sign to me from now on.

Mo update: I had a full beard as of yesterday, but then shaved it down to where it's officially a "mo". I'll post pictures of both tomorrow. I think the mo is pretty hideous but Marjorie likes it, at least for now.

Do me a favour and take this quiz and post your results in the comments. See if it doesn't nail where you're from as well as it did me and a bunch of other people on a mailing list that I frequent.

Novelty update. Falling a little behind here -- before I forget, here are the exciting (not) new things that I've done this week:

Tuesday: Watched the whole first season of the American version of The Office. Surprisingly good, for something that's an adaptation of a British show. (I know it's a TV show, but it was a rental, so I'm counting it.)

Wednesday: First day working at Lonely Planet, and ate at the LP cafe.

Thursday: Tried a greasy spoon down the street from LP. Decent burger.

Friday: Tried another nicer cafe down the street from LP. Asian wrap was decent. That pretty much covers it for the lunch options around the place.

Saturday: Had a Speight's Ale at the Limerick Hotel.

So here it is, our third experience with Melbourne Cup Day, a.k.a. The Race That Stops A Nation. (Third already? How time flies.) For an interesting take on the festivities, check out Mark Twain's account from a century ago. Not much has changed.

(Sunday's novelty: Spotted a leaden flycatcher in the backyard; the first new bird spotting in the city in a long time. Yesterday's: Played around with an interactive music channel I didn't know we were getting on our satellite TV, and fell asleep to classical music.)

Traitors! We've officially applied for Australian citizenship. This is not to say we're renouncing our U.S. citizenship or anything like that. It's just that both countries are cool with dual citizenship, and this will give us the opportunity, if we leave, to come back whenever we want.

All we have to do now is arrange for a test, where they'll quiz us on our rights and responsibilities, and make sure we can speaka de English. I'm reminded of The Simpsons, when Apu was taking his citizenship test:

Proctor: All right, here’s your last question. What was the cause of the Civil War?
Apu: Actually, there were numerous causes. Aside from the obvious schism between the abolitionists and the anti-abolitionists, there were economic factors, both domestic and inter–
Proctor: Wait, wait… just say slavery.
Apu: Slavery it is, sir.

It does mean we have to vote (Australia being the only democracy in the world that requires voting). We'll have to serve on jury duty if called. One thing I like is that we'll be able to get an Australian passport, which is probably a lot safer to travel under than an American one in this day and age.

Postscript. Novelty from two days ago: Did a little work on my graphics package.
Yesterday's novelty: Fried chicken and tofu balls at Misuzu's.
Today's: Went to a nearby but well hidden cafe, St. Ali, for brunch, after getting a tip about it last night. Very nice coffee and sammy.

What's new. A less-than-auspicious foray into the November of Novelty. I tried a new restaurant for lunch -- the Ants Bistro in Chinatown -- and ordered the "Rice with Chicken Soup", largely because it was said to contain "diced botchy". What's that? I had no idea, but it turned out to be standard Chinese broccoli, and the soup on the whole was kind of bland. I will try the place again sometime though; it was just my fault in ordering an unexciting dish.

I tried to double up the novelty by trying out trivia night at the Gunn Island Hotel, but it turns out they don't have it anymore. Bummer. I updated the trivia map.

A rule I try to live by is to try something new every day. It sounds a little trite, but I figure you only get so many days in life, and to spend a day in the exact same way as you've spent one before seems to be a total waste.

I've gradually evolved rules to the game, as to what counts and what doesn't, and since these rules are my own, they only really have to make sense to me. Seeing a new movie counts, but not a new TV show. Finishing a book I've never read counts, but not starting one, or finishing one I've already read. New restaurants always count, and even new dishes at familiar restaurants. What's best is things I've always been a little leery about trying (such as the Turkish delight I tried for the first time a few weeks back). Checking out new neighborhoods or new routes to get from point A to point B also count. Newness created is as good as newness discovered, so doing any sort of creative work counts.

Sure, some of these things may be minor, but they're better than a day of work / TV dinner / reruns / sleep. And while the rules have formalised in my head, I've never actually tried to enforce the "daily" part on myself. But I will, next month. While growing my 'stache, I'll also be living the November of Novelty, and reporting here each day's new experience.

I once again missed my chance to cross something off my life-list, when I slept through a small earthquake that struck town. I didn't even know they could have them here.

The other big talk of the town is that apparently Phar Lap was poisoned. Sounds like a mighty dastardly thing to do but amounts to little more than a historical curiousity at this point.

And speaking of dastardly, I might be trying to grow a Snidely Whiplash for next month's "Movember" fundraiser. Though it'll probably come out looking more like a Tom Selleck.

Cup final yesterday, and I went from hero to goat, at least in my mind.

Though the first and second teams actually got us to the cup finals, they let us thirds actually play it, since we had been playing so well, and they had other cup games to play on the same day. And it was against our chief rivals, Albert Park.

Twenty minutes in I crash the far post on a corner kick and put us up 1-0, a lead we held until halftime. Unfortunately, they put three past us in the second half, all of which involved someone I was covering or should have been covering. I ended up getting substituted, and deservedly so, which is never fun. Final score 3-1. Team photos here -- I'm in the bottom picture, for those of you who know what I look like...

Submitted without comment.

Assessment Results: Mark

Mark’s Full Scale IQ was in the “very superior” range of ability. His percentile ranking was 99.5, indicating that Mark was performing as well as or better than 99.8% of peers his age. It is with 95% confidence that his “true” IQ lies within the “Very Superior” range of ability.

However, Marks Full Scale IQ is not a unitary construct because there was a significant difference between his Performance IQ and Verbal IQ. Therefore his Full Scale IQ is not interpretable.

The Verbal IQ was in the high “very superior” range of ability. Mark’s percentile ranking was 99.5, indicating that Mark is performing as well as or better than 99.5% of peers his age. It is with 95% confidence that his “true” Verbal IQ score lies with the “very superior” range of ability.

The Performance IQ was in the “Superior” range of ability. Mark’s percentile ranking was 95, indicating that he is performing as well as or better than 95% of peers his age. It is with 95% confidence that his true IQ score lies within the “Superior” range of ability.

Subtests

Performed best in subtests which tap into:

* short-term memory via auditory means. This involves short-term acquisition and retrieval.
* Verbal comprehension
* Acquired knowledge and general factual information
* Long-term memory.
* Crystallized Intelligence and Fluid Intelligence
* Visual perception of meaningful stimuli (people and things)
* Non-verbal reasoning
* Synthesis (part-whole relationships) and anticipation of relationships among parts.

Subtest scores identified difficulties in the following areas:

* Distinguishing essential from nonessential details
* Creativity
* Visual perception of abstract stimuli

NB: Superior IQ range lies between 120 and 130.

Very superior IQ range is greater than 130.

Woo hoo, I say, to have discovered a grocery store that sells pepperoncinis by the jar. I've been making myself sick on them since discovering them last week. This country is pepper-deprived.

Interesting note on Australian language. Lately, I've started noticing how much they use "whilst" down here in place of "while". For instance, in the trams there are signs that read, "Do Not Talk To The Tram Driver Whilst The Tram Is Moving". It just sounds wrong -- archaic -- to me. Turns out, it's from the English: in England, all official signage uses "whilst" instead of "while" for an interesting reason. Seems that in the north of England, "while" is often used to mean "until". Not a big deal, unless you consider a sign that reads something like: "Do Not Cross Train Tracks While Lights Are Flashing".

We got Laika two years ago today. Marjorie wants to buy her an anniversary gift, as if she would know the difference. Kind of like the woman I used to work with who bought her cats Christmas presents, wrapped them, and opened them for the cat on Christmas. I don't get it.

We did find the perfect place, though, to take her out to for the occasion.

Odd names. A woman I am about to start a project with has a somewhat unusual name. I can't mention it here, but it started a conversation tonight about odd names.

In junior high I remember two brothers, Linwood and Cherrywood Reed. Unusual, and a little unwieldy, but not too bad.

I also remember a Sunday school teacher at our church named Mercedes Ferrari. (The first name was pronounced "MER-seh-dees".)

I think Marjorie topped it all, though, with a family she's encountered at her work. The children are named Laverne, Shirley... and Ann. I didn't get the "Ann" at first, but then Marjorie explained, "Laverne... Ann... Shirley".

There's no law against it, but maybe there should be. Not life in prison, but a year or two, surely.

Big Blue. I've spent the last month locked in battle with IBM's WebSphere-based web content management tool. Today we came across this gem of an error message in a log file:

Syndiation error occured during reponse

Three misspellings in the space of five words. That has to be a record.

They say no one's ever been fired for going with IBM. Maybe it's time they start.

By popular request, some jokes:


Man in a doctor's office: "Doc, it hurts when I go like this."
Doctor: "Hmmm, step up on the table and let me have a look at that."


Later...
Man: "Doc, when this heals, will I be able to play the violin?"
Doctor: "Yes, you will."
Man: "That's a relief. You see, I'm a concert violinist and I was worried that this would affect my career."


A tourist visiting Manhattan: "Excuse me, how do you get to Carnegie Hall?"
Pedestrian: "It's three blocks up, on the right."


Q. Why did the chicken cross the road?
A. Probably in search of some food, but it's difficult to tell the motivation of animals.


"Take my wife, for instance..."


There was an airplane about to crash. The pilot had a heart attack and there were 4 passengers on the plane but only 3 parachutes! Right away one man grabs one of the chutes and said "I am Tiger Woods -- the greatest golfer of all times and I am taking one." He put on the parachute and jumped out of the plane. The next one to get up was Bill Gates. He said, "I am the smartest and most successful businessman in history, so I deserve one as well." He put on the pack and jumped out of the plane. The two people left were the Pope and a small five year old boy. The Pope turned to the boy and said "Bless you my son. I am an old man and I have lived a long and good life. You are young and have everything to live for. I insist that you take the last parachute and jump." The boy turned to the Pope and said, "Thanks!", and he put on the parachute and jumped.

Kind of cool. Looks like in a few weeks I'll be working on the Lonely Planet website. This is not just some Aussie-based version, but the global site. We've always used their guidebooks, and I used to even consult their site a lot, so it should be interesting to work on. The downside is that it might mean an extra 20-30 minutes commute most days.

Aside: apparently there's some London-based nutter that's been harassing them for something like eight years now, posting inappropriate material to their forums two or three times daily, creating a new login each time after the old one gets kicked off. Seems he's disgruntled after being rejected on a book deal. You just can't compete with crazy.

Recommended reading. You wouldn't think something written in 1889 would still be funny. I'm halfway through Jerome K. Jerome's "Three Men in a Boat". Here's a excerpt, where he's talking about his hypochondria:

In the present instance, going back to the liver-pill circular, I had the symptoms, beyond all mistake, the chief among them being "a general disinclination to work of any kind."

What I suffer in that way no tongue can tell. From my earliest infancy I have been a martyr to it. As a boy, the disease hardly ever left me for a day. They did not know, then, that it was my liver. Medical science was in a far less advanced state than now, and they used to put it down to laziness.

"Why, you skulking little devil, you," they would say, "get up and do something for your living, can't you?"--not knowing, of course, that I was ill.

And they didn't give me pills; they gave me clumps on the side of the head. And, strange as it may appear, those clumps on the head often cured me--for the time being. I have known one clump on the head have more effect upon my liver, and make me feel more anxious to go straight away then and there, and do what was wanted to be done, without further loss of time, than a whole box of pills does now.

You know, it often is so--those simple, old-fashioned remedies are sometimes more efficacious than all the dispensary stuff.

And the beauty of books that are this old is that the copyright has run out and you can read them online.

Soccer season is over, save for a few cup games and one-offs. Great season as we finished as the strongest team in the league. I ran the numbers today, and the last half of the season went like this:

Team	Played	Win	Draw	Loss	Gls For	Gls Agnst	Pts
MIDDLE PARK FC	9	8	0	1	23	10	24
vermont	9	7	2	0	42	7	23
south port utd	10	7	2	1	38	8	23
caulfield cougars	10	5	2	3	39	15	17
kooyong jfc	9	5	1	3	31	29	16
carringbush	9	4	2	3	23	15	14
marcellin eagles	9	4	1	5	21	14	13
olympiakos east kew	9	4	1	4	25	22	13
kew deaf united	8	3	0	5	21	40	9
highlander united	8	1	0	7	5	37	3
port melbourne	11	1	0	10	8	53	3
oakleigh series	9	0	1	8	8	26	1

We were pretty near unstoppable for that stretch. Pity the season was longer than just that though.

Kudos to the doctor who fixed up my hip so well! Pretty much a complete recovery, aside from a strange out-of-whack feeling occasionally when I ride my bike. It'll still be nice to take a week off and let my feet and calves recover.

More geeking. John has between 2 and 5 apples. Mary gives him between 3 and 7 apples. How many apples does he have now? If you can understand this simple question, you have the gist interval arithmetic.

I first heard of interval arithmetic while working at Kennedy Space Center; we used it to model pressures and temperatures of liquid oxygen flowing through pipes. There are other applications beyond physical modeling. It is sometimes used in finance to track the rounding error during financial calculation, so people can't steal fractions of cent from each transaction (like they did in Office Space).

I've started a project that provides a Java library for developers wishing to use interval arithmetic for whatever purpose they want: check it out. It's open-source, so anyone is free to download, use, and even modify it. It's still in a very raw state, but I'm hoping to improve it, especially if there is outside interest.

(I'm torn about hosting it on SourceForge; they're the biggest and most widely known repository for projects such as these, but I hate hate hate Unix-y interfaces, huge lists of features that nobody uses, and sparse and inconsistent documentation, and that's what SourceForge seems to be all about. Maybe I'll switch to Google's?)

Geek alert. Flying back from the states, I came across a contest called "Crossing Capitals" in the back of Games Magazine. The object is to take the 50 US state capitals, plus all of the Canadian capitals, and fit as many as possible into a 19 by 19 grid, crossword puzzle style. This is a regular sort of contest they do, called a "stuffer" contest.

This sounded like a fun thing to write a program to solve, so I set to the task, and was soon generating some pretty good results. I started running it overnight at home, and pretty much constantly at work -- I'd estimate a good eight weeks of total computing time. I'm not sure how many million combinations were tried, but it was a lot. I also did a lot of fine tuning of the algorithm.

The deadline is now passed -- here are the results of the effort:

M

O

N

T

P

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C

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Q

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J

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That's thirty-four capitals. The tie breaker is the total count of letters used; my total is 243.

Unfortunately, I found a forum for people who do this sort of thing all the time, and it looks like at least three people managed to fit in 35 capitals. At least one did it by hand, too, without computer help! I would have thought that everyone in contention to win would have done it by program -- interesting that brains and computers are so evenly matched.

Steve Irwin died today. The news raced around Australia like wildfire -- I heard it almost simultaneously from about four different directions. Quite sad, I think. He may not have been the best role model for kids, but he was the real deal. Did you know that all the profits from his movie went to environmental causes?

No one's too surprised that he went out like this, except maybe those who were expecting it to be a croc. And yet, somehow, it's hard to imagine him dead.

Fun yesterday as I played golf for the first time in four years, at Yarra Bend. I was predictably terrible (shot 108, I think) but it was the soccer team's annual golf outing, and the weather was great, so it was good fun. Tons of wildlife on the course, most notably the colony of giant fruit bats, but also a lot of eastern rosellas, noisy miners, rainbow lorikeets, and a flock of some sort of black cockatoos.

Then last night we caught the Melbourne Victory beating Sydney in front of the biggest crowd in Australian club soccer history -- nearly 40,000. I'm sure it was the biggest crowd that a lot of the players have ever played in front of as well. Great game and a fun atmosphere.

Not much new to report. Spring is slowly arriving, though, which has made us delay our search for a new neighborhood -- Albert Park is too too nice when it's warm.

Two restaurants plugs:

Santiago -- great tapas, great wine, great atmosphere. Reminded us very much of Spain.

Tandoori Times -- maybe the best chicken vindaloo I've had.

A few weeks back we saw the Picasso exhibit at the NGV. We're both fans, but Picasso's ability to excel at every medium can really piss you off. Like, ooh, I'm so freaking talented. Bastard.

Next week I'm claiming my birthday present -- we're going to the Melbourne Victory match against Sydney.

Brushes with celebrity. For no good reason, here are the famous peeps I've peeped, not counting actual shows, lectures, readings, etc.:

Elvis Costello: Met him after shows a few times. Also sat behind him at a Ron Sexsmith show where he didn't perform, so it counts.

Michael McKean (Lenny of Lenny and Squiggy fame): Sat two rows behind him at an Elvis Costello concert.

Henry Rollins: Saw him in a Starbucks in London. Henry Rollins in a Starbucks.

Gurmit Singh at our grocery store in S'pore.

Molly Meldrum at a footy game. Well, they tell me he's famous.

Shaq, at a nightclub in Orlando. A head taller than everyone else, he was hard to miss.

Horace Grant, at the same club. Shook his hand.

Ted Kennedy: Spooked him in an airport when I suddenly reached into my bag for my ticket just as I recognized him. His bodyguards got him out of there fast!

Michael Stipe, on a street corner in Athens, listening to (what I'm guessing was) a backing track through headphones, and mouthing words over it.

Mike Mills, in a bar in Atlanta. Also saw him driving down the road once.

I'm sure I'll think of some others...

Comeuppance. Right after my IQ test, I walked out into the street feeling pretty smart, and immediately almost got run over by a guy on bicycle. I was looking for the tram coming the other direction. "Watch where you're going, dickhead!" he said. I needed that.

"Dickhead", btw, seems to be used down here where we'd say "dumbass" in the States.

Off to see Augie March tonight.

Guinea piggery. One of Marjorie's cow orkers who's working on a psych degree gave me an IQ test this evening, and boy is my brain tired. This was the face-to-face interactive test (not an online mouse-clicky thing) and is a lot more full-on than you might expect. There were 14 tests, and most seemed to start out easy, and ended with you feeling stupid. Here's a run-down of the sections, and a representative question from each:

Information - "Who was Mahatma Ghandi?"

Comprehension - "Why is it necessary for the government to collect taxes?"

Arithmetic - "An item is on sale for one third off the original price. Its sale price is $400. What is the original price?"

Similarities/Differences - "In what way are a friend and an enemy alike?"

Vocabulary - "Define 'tangible'."

Digit span - "Repeat these digits backwards: 4,3,6,2,8."

Letter-Number Sequencing - "Given this sequence, tell me the digits in order, followed by the letters in order: 5,K,2,P,1,J,9,Q."

Performance - "What's missing from this picture?" (A typical picture: two people running along the beach, one leaving no footprints.)

Digit Symbol - Coding - Each digit had a code, and I had to draw the code for a sequence of numbers.

Block Design - "Which picture completes the block?"
Matrix Reasoning - "Which picture completes the sequence?"
Picture Arrangement - "These cards each have a picture on them. Arrange them so the scene makes a logical story."
Symbol Search - "Circle 'Yes' if one of the two symbols on the left appears in the list of five symbols on the right, 'No' otherwise."
Object Assembly - "Arrange these puzzle pieces into a coherent picture."

This after a long day of programming. But it was interesting. I get the results in a week or two.

For the record, I just had my second visual migraine. Woo hoo.

There's a ping pong tournament going on at work, and I'm all bitter because I had planned on at least making it to the quarter finals (where I would have had to play a guy that used to be ranked sixth in Australia) and instead I went out in the second round. I was winning the first game 16-7, then just kind of froze up and started trying not to hit the ball into the net, which of course always results in hitting the ball into the net. To the other guy's credit, he took me off my game. Nuts. I blew $10 on a quality new paddle too.

But soccer's going good; my fitness is back and my hip has seemingly made a full recovery. There are hints here and there that the weather is warming up. Fish are jumping. The cotton is high.

Hmmm, that's odd... Eight minutes ago, I started experiencing my first visual migraine. Luckily, my brother had one a little while back, so I know what's going on. It started as a little blind spot, that was making it hard to see the letter on the screen that I was looking at. It has since grown and moved off to the left. It's now like if I were looking out a window where someone had frozen the letter "C" onto the glass, causing a rainbow diffraction effect, except that the ice is also shimmering. It should end within the half hour, by all reports, and I might get a slight headache after. Very strange, and it would be scaring the tar out of me right now (think: stroke) if I didn't know what it was.
Update: It passed as predicted, in about a half an hour. I got the slightest of headaches afterwards, which is also typical. I found this Flash animation that gives a very good depiction of what it was like (except that the distortion was more of a "C" shape for me).

I knew I could do it. A year or so ago I quit biting my nails, thanks to a product marketed under the great name of Stop That (in America, I think it's called Bittrex). Stop That is a highly bitter substance you put on your nails for a little instant negative feedback whenever you put them in your mouth.

The problem was, I still had the tendency to pick at my nails with my other nails (or even a nail clipper), quite incessantly. I wasn't biting, but my fingers still didn't look too good. I tried all sorts of tricks to stop that, without much luck.

In the last three days, though, I've quit the picking. How? With a little product called Stop That. I just applied it to one nail, and whenever I caught myself picking at my nails, I made myself take a lick. Gross, but effective. I had to reapply several times at the start. But now, after three days, I pick no more.

The Chagall print we got is Lovers in the Red Sky. Marjorie loves Chagall and goats, so it was a good choice for her, and me -- well, boobies.

It actually came mounted wrong -- with the goat at the bottom and the houses on the left. We're trying to decide whether to leave it as it is or fix it.

Mostly as an exercise in Google Maps, Javascript, CSS, and web hosting, I've started a page of weekly pub trivia nights here in Melbourne. Check it out, but please remember, this is not an exercise in graphic design (which I have no real flair for).

Birthday was nice, actually, and not at all angsty like you might expect. On Saturday we went shopping for art (my birthday present request; we have a lot of bare walls in our house). I didn't find any winners but Marjorie picked out a nice Franz Marc Chagall print that goes great in our living room. At night we went out for Cambodian food, which was only just okay, but the neighborhood itself was a great find that made it worth the visit. We've added Yarraville to our list of neighborhoods to consider moving to. Sunday, my actual birthday, featured soccer followed by a massage, followed by pizza.

And instead of a mid-life crisis little red convertible, we rented a Hyundai Getz.

You are cast into the world naked, screaming. You learn, you grow. Trends come and go and come again. People move into and out of and into your lives. You get wiser, but at the price of a body that heals. The world gets more accessible, more polluted, more chaotic -- more fascinating. But did the world change, or you?. Then one day you wake up and you're... 40?

The web's biggest trend of the last year or two is surely video clips, AKA viral videos. They seem to come in just a few varieties:

• Short funny clips from comedy shows, especially The Daily Show.
  
• Stupid stunts.
  
• Crazy nature vids.
  
• The video editor with too much time on his hands.
  
• People acting goofy in their dorm rooms.
  And my favorite,
  
• Musical virtuosity. Check out these examples. As a frustrated musician, these pain me a little bit.
  
  
  
  • Guitar
    
  • Mandolin
    
  • Drums
    
  
  

Il gioco ugly. People aren't very happy with the Italian team down here, myself included, thanks to last week's now infamous incident (if you missed it, see the video here). Italy's the butt of jokes continent-wide, and will be for a long time to come. The emails are flying -- there's this and this and (warning: may offend) this.

Today at soccer, a guy I was covering took a dive in the box, and later admitted it to me sheepishly. "So, are you Italian?" I asked. He laughed.

I think it's time to adopt children, so that I can teach them to hate the Italian style of soccer.