Some state legislators have entirely too much time on their hands.

Perpetuating the "celebrities always kick off in threes" theory: first Dudley Moore, then Milton Berle, and today, Billy Wilder. Damn.

My schizoid music-buying episode of the day: coming back from aerobics, I zoom into Best Buy, suddenly filled with the bloodlust for Neil Diamond's "Hot August Night." They didn't fucking have it! So what did I end up buying instead? Soundgarden and Bad Religion, of course. Not that Neil doesn't rock, mind you.

Well, I went back to aerobics class today. I'm not feeling too sore, yet. We'll see in the morning if I need a morphine drip.

The other night was an action-packed, disjointed series of dreams. It was like those minute-long montages that came at the beginning of '70s action shows like "Starsky and Hutch," only if I were on acid. My car flipped on the freeway; in the return of a recurring dream motif for me, my dad was trying to explain to me why he faked his death 20 years ago; and I was in post-coital bliss with a woman I didn't recognize, who said, "I love you, husband." Somewhere, Jung is having an aneurysm trying to figure these out.

Anyone got some Vicodin? Or a walker? I attended an aerobics class yesterday. For the first time, ever. It was fun. It felt good to move and sweat. And then I woke up this morning, and I feel like I need both hips replaced. My hips have never ached before. Oh, fuck – I'm 30. You know you're old when you start having existential workout pain. Or is it nihilistic?

So my pal Josh – who just moved a month ago to Cincinnati – just called me to let me know that there was a huge line out the door at one of Larry Flynt's Hustler bookstores near his office. Evidently, pneumatic smut siren Jenna Jameson was signing autographs and raffling off a chance for some schlub to have lunch with her. Josh said he'd give her my phone number. I told him to tell her Ron Jeremy said hi.

I finally decided to institute an archive here. I had thought the relative paucity of posts would keep the page size manageable, but not anymore. Previous pearls of wisdom can now be found here.

Perhaps I was craving an early-midlife penile compensator. Perhaps I have too much idle time and disposable income. Perhaps I missed music. I went to the place where I bought my first guitar 15 years ago. The first axe was a left-handed Gibson SG (think Angus Young of AC/DC's guitar, flipped upside down). It was a sweet instrument, but I was too undisciplined to play it well, and I eventually sold it during college because I needed the scratch. (Also sold the second guitar I had, a Gibson Les Paul Custom.) So I put down some money and placed an order for a custom-built left-handed Telecaster-style axe. It'll be lovely. I can noodle around with the guitar again. Whee!

Viva Subway Guitars and its proprietor, Fat Dog. (By the way, they've moved. Their new address: 1511 San Pablo Ave., Berkeley.)

I got dumped today. Via email. That, to understate it, is not a lot of fun.

It was someone I'd been dating for a couple of months. I'm not totally heartbroken – it was a fun time that I didn't think would move into a commitment – but still, perhaps a phone call would have been a nicer way to break the news. Considering I saw her last Friday, that would have been a perfect opportunity.

I can't get too indignant. Over a year ago, I ended a relationship by responding to an email that was sent; she asked what was up, and I told her it wasn't working for me. Now I know how it feels to be on the other side of the equation. Consider me duly chastened.

The thing was, I knew it was coming; it was a gut feeling. I was kind of left to twist for a couple of weeks. When phone calls and emails are left unreturned, and when they log on Yahoo IM only to log off about 5 seconds later, all you can do is wait for the other shoe to drop. Getting the email was a relief of sorts, a confirmation that my suspicions were right and that I wasn't being overly paranoid. So it goes.

The personals responses have died down. Hanne said the "fresh meat factor" has worn off. Perhaps I need to take a break from dating and work on things other than having a love life.

It wasn't all sturm und drang today. I took off for lunch, opened the sunroof and the windows, and was greeted with "Godzilla" and "Cities on Flame" on the radio. I got to luxuriate in a Jim Anchower moment and be a classic rock dork. That was nice.

I think I've begun to contract the cold bug that's been ubiquitous amongst my co-workers and family. Blech.

In the meantime, I'm trying to unload some of the crap I've had boxed up for years. I'm sure there's someone out there who likes to rehab old computer and video game systems. If you'd like a Magnavox Odyssey 2 or a Radio Shack TRS-80 Color Computer 2, let me know.