I sat down a while ago to write a very short entry about Cal's defeat of Arizona earlier this evening. Then it morphed into a much longer meditation on the fact that sports, even if they seem like a silly waste of time to those who have no passion for them, are no worse -- and no better -- than any other kind of investment in narrative. And then I eventually worked my way back around to say how delighted I was with today's result. But all that typing, five paragraphs worth, was lost when my application crashed before I could post or save what I'd written. I'm taking that as a sign that I should be wary of putting too much stock into the affairs of mortals. Still, I'd rather have them continue than find myself in some ascetic posture that is really a case of making a virtue of necessity. Because the messiness of love provides richer instruction than the crisp, clean reality of those who forego all interpersonal entanglements. Bear up!