And that's the central tension I feel in my life these days. That split feeling of excitement and dread at each turn. The excitement of new digs, new wheels, new jobs, new adventures. And the simultaneous anxiety these things create.

The happiest part of my day is . . .

Wednesday was our big move to Baltimore. As the moving van and I were driving out of DC, there was a sudden downpour of rain mixed with frequent thunder and lightning. Some might view a thunderstorm on the day of your move as a bad omen. But I'm trying to think more positively these days. That's why now, two days later, I'm still asserting it was a great move. Damnit.

I don't really know the best way to say this. I've tried about twenty different sentences. Which is ridiculous. Because it's pretty simple, really. So I'm just going to say it:

When our contractor said he was sending out a 'cleaner' to detail the bathroom for us, the first image to come to my mind was Harvey Keitel, as "The Wolf" in Pulp Fiction.

This is one of the most exciting things I've seen. Ever. The French eat a little crow as Lezak comes from behind and out-touches Bernard by 8/100's of a second. I think what makes it more incredible is that not only did the US shatter the previous world record in the process (by almost 4 seconds), but the next five teams to touch the wall also came in under world-record time. Better, stronger, faster ... this is a new age of swimming ya'll.

Can we really make the claim that Phelps is "the fastest swimmer ever?" In one sense, yes, of course we can: He's got the fastest times. Duh. But the times are only half the story here. Is it possible to make any sort of meaningful comparison between Phelps and great swimmers of the past, people like Spitz, or my personal idol as a kid Matt Biondi.

Oh, and yes, today is celebratory for one more reason . . . Happy Birthday, C!

If you follow the sports and like hypothesizing on who will end the season a champion, or if you hate sports but love statistics . . .

If you have an iGoogle homepage and like sports, create a new tab and call it "Sports."

If you happen to be standing outside of our apartment door on a Sunday afternoon between now and February 4th, you may be shocked to hear the sound of a female voice shouting furious words at some unlucky SOB. Don't be concerned. The threats are meaningless. And that unlucky SOB is not me. It's the TV set. C and I are just watching a little of the football.

One of the things I did while I was in Costa Rica take some surfing lessons. Well, I'm happy to report that I'm now a surfing sensation in the country.

Around the time my brain had done it's 723rd push-up, my body finally declared that enough was enough, damnit, and demanded some sleep.

I've been swimming at the Y lately. Yes, the YMCA. Dig it.

Hosting the open mic jam at Pharaoh's has become a regular thing for The Jones. I have to say that it's becoming one of my favorite things to do.