Ice Carvings

spent the last two hours fixing this blog, most of it for removing the anonymous comments that think your blog is that good then link you to their sites that offer everything from dental plans to aircraft-grade aluminum. The resulting effort boosted my hit counter, which in a fit of unintended foresight, i reset to 1400 prior to the activity. sadly, the best and most flattering comments were from these idiots. i would even be doubly-pleased and retain them if only they actually read the contents.

Much as i would like, things don't always work out as you plan them to. I got the inspiration to write an article for the San Miguel Beermen, a perennial PBA powerhouse and my de facto team despite having abandoned the local basketball association in happy pursuit of the Sacramento Kings. Looking for something to do, it seemed like a good idea to feature a team of 15 grown men and their coach who get paid to play ball. With a new coach and with him, a new philosophy, it might just work... The philosophy was remarkably simple, and Coach Chot Reyes was far calmer than he was during the frenzied 90s. He espoused the concept of Heart Work, where the Beermen had to examine their motivation for playing. He acknowledges that individual talent and skill can bring one so far to the PBA, but what happens next - whether you content yourself playing for pay or perenially figure in championship matches - is up to what your heart desires. Maybe i'm making it a bit more romantic than it seems

Dearest Nel, Despite your expectations, I have failed you as a romantic. I don’t write love letters anymore. I won you over by writing you thousands of words of sweet nothings, and you kept them all and wanted more. Nowadays, however, I only send you messages via email, and the subject is most likely something that starts with “FWD: FWD: FWD: THIS IS REALLY FUNNY!” I am a lousy dinner companion. While you enjoy flowing conversation over a nice candlelit dinner with soft music as background, years of being with me have dampened your expectations. At present, I am more excited with the prospect of timing the pizza delivery guy and hoping that he arrives after 31 minutes. In case we do go out, I often embarrass you by ordering something spicy and end up red-faced and sweaty. I am insufferable when watching videos. You envision a quiet evening watching classics like “A Love Affair,” “Sleepless in Seattle,” and “Notting Hill.” I eagerly occupy half the sofa and scan with the remote for s