Well, here we are. Again. It's Friday, and all I wanna do is get as far away from the office as quickly as possible. Downstairs there is a seminar being put on by our 3rd party sales trainers. Since I didn't get anybody to attend, I don't have to go. Woo! Whatever, I put 5 whole calls out. I did my part.

Moving on, my cardio yesterday was uneventful. A good workout, but no stories to tell. Why? I decided to give my creaky joints a rest and use the elliptical instead. I typically use a treadmill because it's easy to regulate the speed and incline up and down as I get through my workout. But between the shin splints and achy knees Tuesday, I needed to switch it up. Needless to say, other than upping the intensity, the elliptical is where it's at. The daily eats was good, as I kept up my 6 small meals/day ratio. Some are real meals, some are shakes for when I'm on the road. All in the name of keeping the ol' metabolism up. Side note, I'm only providing weight/body fat updates every two weeks. I figure it'll be less trying on my psyche because I won't be concerned with the infinitesimal changes that occur daily. So, my first update on that front is a week from Saturday. Please don't fall off your chairs as you sit on the very edge of them. Kthx.

After my workout yesterday, I met up with some peeps at Tampa's 'Rock The Park'. It's a free concert outside the Glazer Children's Museum. Normally, it's a 'pack a roadie until I can get some beers in me' kinda event, but being the ever-so-vigilant blogger/health nut (heh), I decided to go the sober route (meh). It's not so much the calories in booze I'm worried about, it's the other calories I inhale once I've thrown a bunch of alcohol down my throat. And oh, did I mention the 'Wicked 'Wiches' truck was there? Yeah. They're the mobile equivalent of the guy who deep fries everything at the State Fair. One drink and I would be knee deep in a double-deep-fried monte cristo. As comical as that may be to you, dear reader, I'm gonna skip that part. However, I will say that I was HONGRY and needed something to add to the 1/2 chicken breast/spoonful of rice, half a pepper I ate before I walked over. So, I went with the least unhealthy thing - coconut chicken curry sammich. All I can say is,

*puts on hoity-toity food critic hat*

the sweet, cheap bread blended away the vinegary crap that was the chicken. Mercifully, the half a sandwich I received only cost *checks bank statement* $7?!?! Goddamnit. Note to self - don't expect anything good and healthy and cheap off the back of what used to be a plumbing truck.

I missed the first band and showed up just in time to witness the second band. Looking at the lead singer, I'm quick to impose judgement (yeah, like you don't. step off.). I'm hoping for some early '90's Mudhoney kinda sound, as the lead singer looks like he got straight off the boat at Puget Sound. I'm expecting, after the first few bars, southern Nickelback. Guh. Surprisingly, they were pretty good. Lead singer guy is a helluva guitar player, and had this groovy/bluesy/fuzzy sound going. If I remember their name and I see they're out and about in Tampa at a club, I would gladly pay the cover.

As we're watching Fuzzy Groove (it can't be much worse than their actual name), I notice the headlining band gathering their gear to the side of the stage. Immediately, I notice something interesting - BLACK DRUMMER GUY!!!!!! In my experience, a black drummer in a white band is approximately 1547 times more talented than the sum of the hipster crackers in the band. Call me racissssss or whatever, but I've got empirical proof. Wanna see it? Go see ya mom, I gave her the details last night. Plus, while the rest of the band rock their hipster uniform (tight jeans, flannel, chuck taylors), this guy's got on a sweater, regular fit jeans and work shoes. And a blazer. Smoove. And once again, my empirical evidence is validated. The band gets up, and the first few bars remind me of some warm Sonic Youth/Yo La Tengo. Fuck and yes. However, my money is still on BDG to blow up their spot and take over. Maybe some interesting time changes or cool fills involving cymbal stands. ANYTHING. Especially since they dive right into a bland power pop groove (an oxymoron, I know) that immediately gets me thinking about getting back to la casa. Not to mention the temperature has dropped about 20 degrees and the wind is whipping like I'm back on the shores of Lake Minnet....errr...I mean, Lake Erie. But nope. BDG falls in line with the rest of the drones and slogs on in 4/4 time. Admittedly, he clearly is the best musician of the bunch. As someone who pines to become a rock drummer, you begin to notice who's just keeping time, and who's frustratingly being held back. This guy was in the latter group. But his talent was no match for my wicked lack of attention span, so off I walk with C & J to catch a ride home and warm my bones.