My domain, drewd, was born seven years ago yesterday: July 28th, 2001. Take a look at my birth certificate.

This website has gone through many different designs and CMS but has always provided me with some creative outlet. Thank you, website.

I apologize for offering these congratulations one day late. And, I must apologize again because your present will not be ready until tomorrow. I think you will be quite pleased with what I am preparing, regardless.

We are both getting old, you and me, website but we are still growing. I think we will have many great years together in the future. Here’s to us.

Wooo.

Last night I broke a long tradition of failing to see films about which I am particularly excited and caught The Dark Knight at Cinerama. We tried to see the movie in IMAX at the Pacific Science Center but evening showings were sold out into next week. Devastating.

The Dark Knight was fantastic, featuring some quality action and special effects but truly succeeding by evoking fear and despair. The film portrayed a particularly dark and gruesome Gotham, in which no one is safe or impervious to corruption. The protagonists seemed tired and pessimistic, winning small victories at times but never able to overcome the sea of evil. I am trying to avoid discussing the plot—I suggest you see the film to understand.

Heath Ledger portrayed the Joker brilliantly. He never slipped out of character or hardly exposed the least bit of humanity. His dementia was so complete and convincing that I could not help but feel fear. And he was a clever Joker, unbelievably adept at manipulating all those around him.

I do suggest you see The Dark Knight in a theatre in order to appreciate fully the film. If you require a further dose of Batman, as I do, I would recommend Batman: Gotham Knight. The studio produced, and released directly to DVD, a set of six short stories about Batman by different acclaimed writers and animators. These vignettes are very much in the style of the Animatrix, though perhaps a bit less varied in animation style.

Will this new trend of actually seeing films continue? Will I see Hellboy 2 or Wall-E in the theatre? I’ll let you know.

I know I am about two weeks late now with this post but I have to start somewhere. In my defense, I spent the 48 hours directly following Potlatch in Los Angeles, with my family at my grandmother’s memorial service. And then I was “normal” for three days and then I was sidelined from life for a week and a half on account of severe sinus infection (103° fever FTW). I managed to rally for Against the Grain last weekend, a beach tournament in Seaside, Oregon, but then paid the price of newly reduced health on Monday and Tuesday.

Enough excuses: on to Potlatch.

Potlatch 2008 was my favorite Potlatch yet, and certainly my most successful. Our team was large and in charge and just chock full of my friends, of people whom I absolutely love. I had not played with some of these people for years—I think Steve and I were last on a team together at Potlatch in 2004. We came out rolling on Friday, kicking ass with little trouble, and looking oh so good in the jerseys Joaquin judged to be 3rd best in at Potlatch (behind Downtown Brown and Jewbilation).

Here is the much-lauded design:

Believe me: they looked even better in person, especially when matched with the rainbow pony sweatbands and tattoos I found for team schwag and gifts. Here, check out what a beast Kevin is in his jersey.

Right, so, our play. First, our team was stacked to an extent I didn’t quite realize before we all suited up. Many of our players are… um, fantastic? And some of them had gotten quite a bit better since I had last seen them play. Second, we figured our game out fairly well and quickly, aided somewhat by an easy pool on Friday. Check out Jughead’s Potlatch Day 1 recap for more details.

Saturday we had a much more competitive pool, with a UCLA alumni team, a UCSD alumni team and, wait for it, Team Fisher Price. For the uninitiated, TFP is the Canadian National Mixed team. They had beaten Shazam the night before in a USA v. Canada Worlds preview and exhibition match. In short, we won our first game against Smash Masters, the UCLA squad, and lost our second game against Chromeo, the UCSD team. If we wanted to make the top bracket on Sunday, we had to win our final game, against TFP.

So we decided we were going to do it. And we played insane, fantastic, crazy good and we took half 8 – 7. They were shaken, and we believed. But then they tied us at 9 – 9. We didn’t worry much. And then they ran off a bunch to 9 – 13 and soft cap went on (game to +2 = 15, win by 2). But we believed. And we had the bald eagle and Abraham Lincoln and liberty and justice and Homeland Security on our side. So we tightened up our rotation and scored five (5) points in a row to win 14 – 13 in hard cap (sudden death).

The final point was classic. They threw what they thought was an easy in-cut only to have Lucy speed past her lady and catch the defensive block cleanly and uncontested, just yards out of their endzone. She dished to Steve and Steve flipped a short scoober to Kevin for the win. Victory!

Again, check out Jughead’s Potlatch Day 2 recap for more details.

We spent a lovely evening on Saturday serving food at the first party shift, which means that you only have to serve a few dozen people and you get the first chance at feeding yourself. Brilliant! Our team, exultant and unified by our recent victory, went at the evening with abandon. Details are best left to legend and the photos on Avery’s iPhone.

Sunday was a bit disappointing. We lost our first game—A bracket prequarters—to D’oh, a Seattle mixed team who pulls some from Shazam, Riot, etc. at Potlatch. They played with speed and energy and we slacked on defense and miscued on offense. I honestly believe that we should have shotgun a bunch of PBR to relax the team—no matter it was 10:30 in the morning. This was not the DarkHorse of past victories. What else can I say? They outplayed us.

We played out our next two games, beating Lawn Party—we were now invulnerable to Canadians—and a Northwest School “reunion” team, Rage. I put “reunion” in quotes because some of their players were still in high school. We were well connected to Rage: Alex Wells coaches or coached a number of them, a few of their players are current Braineaters and one young lady practices with Shadrach. Oh, also, Schuyler’s brother was on the team. All in all, they were fun to play but couldn’t really match us. We took the victory and finished our weekend tied for 9th overall. Not bad for the ol’ Horse, huh?

I was a bit emotional at this point, considerably tired from the Ultimate and revelry, and overwhelmed by the intense happiness I had been riding for three days straight. We circled up for final thanks and goodbyes, as I was departing posthaste to fly to Los Angeles. I teared up a bit and tried unsuccessfully, first, to convince everyone to pay me and, second, to explain to them how much they all and the weekend meant to me. I got my hugs, took down my tent and left Potlatch.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, DarkHorse, for an amazing weekend. We were inspired, intense, beautiful, hot, spirited, debaucherous, hilarious and just oh so good. I could not have asked for more.

Check out Prude’s photos for a glimpse into the DarkHorse experience.

Ain’t no pony like the DarkHorse pony.

Oh, over the entire weekend, I misplaced one item. RIP Pink Supersonics headband. I suppose, with the team leaving Seattle, the loss is appropriate. I am, therefore, very much in the market for a new pink headband. I will happily reward anyone who finds me one.

I’m going to follow Bob’s example and write a Potlatch preview post for my team, DarkHorse.

Here, at last, is the design for our 2008 jersey. (more…)

Micah Riggio, as mentioned previously.

This year, this so-called 2008, has not been an easy one. Life shows no sign of easing up, slowing down, taking it easy. So it goes.

I lost a friend in February—Jordan Taggart was one of my first friends at Harvey Mudd and lived solidly at the core of me, Matty, Mike, Yip and others throughout our time there. Jordan’s death was shocking, troubling, tragic. I struggled to support my friends and process my own emotions. I tried to move forward without losing the meaning of the loss.

Spring continued, and I did my best to lend love and strength to other friends as they each dealt with the death of a parent. What good but to be thankful for love, and for whatever time together we receive?

We moved out of our house, the Hedge, in Wallingford and Claire left for New York. Sarah and I found a nearly perfect new place in Capitol Hill after three months of excruciating search. I was happy to have such a loving and compatible friend with whom to live but still uncertain, panicked at the start of my third year in Seattle. I am surrounded by friends but still lonely. I am “successful” but not necessarily happy. What am I doing here?

My grandmother, Adela, died on Monday. She died less than two days ago. I talk to my parents and to my sister every day and I spend every moment preoccupied. No matter how gradual and expected her decline was, I am still confused, stricken. But, more than anything, I am incredulous of my family’s unity and strength, and excited to see them all soon, no matter the circumstance. And I look forward to celebrating Adela’s life and to healing and moving on as a family.

I opened Whit’s blog this morning to see his notes on the beginning of summer, and followed through to the photographs of his mother Bear’s wedding to her longtime partner and now wife, Susan. I cried—is it clear that I’m emotionally fragile right now?—overjoyed and comforted to find love growing and blooming, to know that life does improve.

I spent last Friday working at Brooke and Sarah’s house, and was delighted by the moments I spent playing with their son, Micah, who is nearly a year and a half old. He runs around and throws balls and spins in circles and is obsessed with brooms. He is expressive and joyful and demanded that I read him books, anticipating the funny bits pages before and chortling uncontrollably when the snow finally plopped onto the character’s head. Micah is learning facial expressions but laughs indiscriminately at happiness, anger, frustration, sadness and surprise, especially if I’m jumping and spinning while I sport these faces.

He is alive and happy and loving and he is life and happiness and love. And life will continue and death will come and I will never figure it all out.

I was more than a bit troubled to hear (via kottke) that a group of teenage girls in Gloucester, Massachusetts, two towns over from where I grew up in Hamilton, made a pact to get pregnant. Yikes.

Without doubt, Gloucester and Hamilton are different by social and economic standards. Still, I don’t enjoy the suggestion of cultural trends in the region. And I firmly believe that education would help prevent this increase in and desire for pregnancy. Oh, also, we could use a president who supports sex education based on science and common sense rather than religion and blind optimism.