This is hard

Blogging is harder than I thought. I read a lot of blogs daily, but most of them are baseball related (Baseball Toaster, Braves Journal, Aaron Gleeman.com, Baseball Think Factory, Baseball Analysts, Sabernomics, etc.) However those blogs all have a huge subject to write about. Baseball, duh. While here, apparently the only thing to write about is myself. And while things happen to me, I usually don't feel like they're significant enough to take time out to write about.

But now I find myself with some time on my hands thanks to the ineptness of the Marlin's ground crew, and heavy rains in south Florida, delaying the Braves' eventual victory tonight, so I shall write!

I had a pretty good weekend. Belinda's brother, mother and two nephews came down to visit. I really didn't spend much time with anyone, but I had fun when I did. Everyone but Belinda's mom went down into Hell, to watch the Braves play. The Braves won, and I saw Marcus Giles hit a home run in person for the first time, and Andruw Jones tied Cliff "the whiff" Floyd for number 1 on the all important "Most homeruns Granville has seen in person" list with 4. Speaking of Andruw Jones: Holy Crap. I've never seen anyone on a hot streak like this, and I likely never will again. 12 HR's in 15 games? That's downright Bondsian! I also got to kinda 'play' some baseball this weekend, which really just means batting and fielding practice with Ricky and the boys. It wasn't bad.

I really am debating going to class tomorrow. I don't feel as though I'm learning anything, and I spend most of the time in class not paying attention anyway, why get up in the morning? Who knows, I'll do it though; its not like there's anything to do here anyway.

Belinda and I are talking about trying to take a vacation at the end of July/First of August. We've talked about New York, but who knows? It'll have to be somwhere cheap, so that'd point to Vegas, as far as airfare and hotel rates go, but I more than make up for that in losses at the Blackjack table. Now, I know how to count cards in theory, and sometimes I even keep a running count, but my problem is fear. I'm too scared to increase my bets when the count is good, so I never take advantage of the higher odds, so I lose. I'm Vegas's perfect customer. Well not quite, but I'm a huge loser so they like to see me there anyway.

Well, I've managed to write forever and say absolutly nothing, so I guess I'm doing something right. I still don't like ending these things. What will I do this time? Hmmm. I'll end this with lyrics to a song, something I used to do in e-mails a while back; here's System of A Down's "Deer Dance:"

Deer Dance
Round, Round,

Circumventing circuses,
Lamenting in protest,
To visible police,
Presence sponsored fear,

Battalions of riot police,
With rubber bullet kisses,
Baton courtesy,
Service with a smile

Beyond the Staples Center you can see America,
With its tired, poor, avenging disgrace,
Peaceful, loving youth against the brutality,
Of plastic existence.

Pushing little children,
With their fully automatics,
They like to push the weak around,
Pushing little children,
With their fully automatics,
They like to push the weak around.

Round, Round,

A rush of words,
Pleading to disperse,
Upon your naked walls, alive,
A political call,
The fall guy accord,
We can't afford to be neutral on a moving train,

Beyond the Staples Center you can see America,
With its tired, poor, avenging disgrace,
Peaceful, loving youth against the brutality,
Of plastic existence.

Pushing little children,
With their fully automatics,
They like to push the weak around,
Pushing little children,
With their fully automatics,
They like to push the weak around.

Push them around,
A deer dance, invitation to peace,
War staring you in the face, dressed in black.
With a helmet, fierce,
Trained and appropriate for the malcontents,
For the disproportioned malcontents,
The little boy smiled, it'll all be well,
The little boy smiled it'll all be well,

Pushing little children,
With their fully automatics,
They like to push the weak around,
Pushing little children,
With their fully automatics,
They like to push the weak around.
Pushing little children,
With their fully automatics,
They like to push the weak around,
Push the weak around,
Push the weak around,
Push the weak around,
They like to push the weak around.