So I finally found some stuff to do in the great city of Bellingham besides sit in my apartment and read or sit at school and read or sit on the bus and read. I joined DIRT (the men's Ultimate team)!@#!!$ We had our first practice today on a slightly wet field--it was slightly raining and I was slightly sliding. It was different to play competitively and actually try to set up plays as opposed to the random chaos that guides the Lake Stevens games. (No offense to the L-town crew, but these guys are serious. They wear cleats! I must get some for myself.) DIRT practices Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 3-5:30 so I will be running a lot more than I have in a long time. *gasp* Maybe I'll finally be able to beat Alan at the mile.


Oh wait, there's more. Katrina also convinced me to join the Fencing club, which meets on Tuesday nights. We went to the info meeting yesterday and watched a few bouts. I've always wanted to sword fight--just ask my mom what happened to everything in the house that looked similar to a sword--and now I finally get to leard how! The best part about all of this new stuff to do is that they are the cheapest club sports to join: $50 each. Men's Hockey is paying $400 and Lacrosse is paying $200 and I'm only paying $100 for TWO (2) sports clubs. Do I know how to pick 'em or what?!?


I other news, I ordered the Seattle Tim es to be delivered to my house for the quarter because I felt news deprived without TV or internet. (That's right. No TV. No Internet. Just radio and newspaper at my place. Oy.) It's been great being able to still read the paper while eating breakfast and f eel connected to the rest of the world. Until yesterday.


Yesterday my dealer (that's what the call them now, no joke) delivered the Seattle PI rather than the Times. Now, anyone else may not have noticed or even cared, but this is me we're talking about. I'm a journalism junkie. I care where I get my news. (NPR, National Geographic, 60 Minutes when I had TV, and the Seattle Times) So I tried to read that Hearst-owned rag but it hurt deep down inside. It felt like reading USA Today, which in my opinion is barely above reading Weekly World News.


It happened again this morning. I about lost my appetite when I saw the PI sitting on my front patio. (But I love eating and the feeling faded quickly.) Needless to say I tried to look for the good aspects of the PI this time but they still don't outway to bad aspects. So this afternoon I called the only phone number given to me at the time of my order and left a message about how much the PI ruined my life and that if I didn't get the Times back I might slip into a conservative funk and start reading George and listening to Michael Medved. I hope that scares them. Sidenote: is it possible to brainwash yourself?


For the sake of the awesome tortellini I made for dinner on Sunday and am still enjoying, I hope those beauraucrats can get me my paper fix by Sunday in time for Leonard Pitts Jr.'s editorial.


Please read. It makes the whole world better.
Isaac