PC/network-trouble at home and packed-to-the-brim workdays have prevented me from posting anything in the past few days, but it's Friday, I'm hopped up on coffee, and I've got a few minutes to spare -- so let's rock.

Interesting fact number one: Until last night, I'd never gone bowling. Truth be told, I'd never even been inside a bowling hall (except once, in San José, to buy some snacks -- it was the only place open, I didn't have a choice). So when Funcom arranged dinner-slash-bowling for everyone, I immediately thought, "nope, not doing that, not gonna embarrass myself again". While, technically, bowling isn't a ball sport, it still involves a round object and a certain amount of hand-eye coordination and body control, which immediately ought to disqualify my involvement. I'm tall, clumsy, and completely without grace. Yet, after some pushing, prodding, and ridicule from my so-called "friends", I signed up for the event, mostly for the free pizza, not for the bowling. That part I wasn't looking forward to. At all. The pizza I could do. I'm okay at eating pizza. So we ate the pizza (I was late, and had to fight for the meagre scraps of veggie-pizza), and then we went downstairs to bowl.

Strangely enough, although I got the lowest score on our five-man team (86, I believe, to the others' 90- and 100-something scores), I didn't do all that badly. I (mostly) hit the pins, and I rolled the ball into the gutter only twice. And, lo and behold, it was fun! Granted, the fun mostly involved discussing bowling techniques ("It's all in the footwork, dude!") and yelling "boo-ya!" when one of the other guys landed a strike or a spare (I checked up on bowling terminology this morning, just to sound all cool and knowledgeable about it), but it was a nice change of pace from my regular regiment of intellectual activities. Male bonding can be a frightening thing, but not when it's done properly, without unnecessary physical contact, embarrassing sobbing, or nudity.  ¶ 10:41