--An anonymous bird in the audience of "Big Bird Says the Alphabet."

After I finally dragged myself out of bed and made my way over to college, I spent much of the first session of Geology 100 wondering why on Earth I'd decided to fulfill my science-with-a-lab requirement with that instead of physics.

There the professor was, talking about the labs and the field trips, and we really have to visualize everything in four dimensions -- not just the two we usually think of things in, but in 3-D, plus its development over time, and going on about various eras in the Earth's development, and I wondered, why am I here? I'm not especially good with visual or tactile stuff, and I'm certainly not good at memorization. What made me choose geology, of all things?

Of course, I know the answers to that, I suppose. I chose geology because biology creeps me out (no dissections for me, thanks), and I don't find chemistry very interesting, and I've already done physics, back in high school. Geology was about the only thing left. Well, okay, astronomy, but I'm really not visual, so I couldn't imagine it working. And psychology, but spending a few years ghostwriting psych papers left me disinclined to take any courses in the field myself. Which is a story for another day, perhaps.

With all of that having been said... it's been a decade since I took physics in high school, and it really is more up my alley. I mean, physics is basically math, and I'm good at math. I don't like math, but it doesn't bother me. And, well, I guess I find masses and velocities and doppler shifts more interesting than rocks and minerals and strata.

But, still, I've taken physics, and I haven't taken geology, so given my work ethic... well, as a friend pointed out on my usual MUD earlier tonight, this basically means I'm gonna be keeping the course, but complaining loudly about it all semester.

I did spend part of the time during the instructor's geology pep talk expressing my feelings on the course in two stanzas... which one of you is gonna get in the mail pretty soon in fulfillment of my poem offer from the start of Winter Break. So I'm finally getting that plan back on track. Kind of.

So, let me just briefly touch on a few subjects before going to sleep:

John Rocker, after first being sent for psychological testing by Major League Baseball, has now been suspended, all for some rather obnoxious comments he made to Sports Illustrated about New York and the people who live therein. Please. First of all, the psychological testing was ridiculous; there's nothing insane about being bigoted. Second of all, the guy was voicing his opinion on his own time; this is supposed to be an actionable offense?

The problem, I suppose, is that baseball players are supposed to be role models... but, really, there aren't too many who live up to that in this day and age anyway.

Plus, as much as I hate defending Rocker, he was in the middle of a "trash talk" battle with New York fans. It's just possible that he stepped over the line without really meaning it, any more than players of "the dozens" really mean anything about their opponents' mothers.

(No, I don't buy it either. I think he's probably a racist jerk, although -- thank goodness -- there's nothing illegal about that. But the alternative isn't entirely implausible.)

Incidentally, I can't believe I hadn't previously known that Advertising Age and Adweek were online. This is cool.