Saturday was OK. I did significant work in my room (WARNING: boring details to follow), mainly moving all my photo boxes and albums from the bottom of my closet to a more accessible open area near the door, and moving the scrapbooks from the open area to the bottom of the closet. Why? Because I need to get at the photos constantly, and I never look at the scrapbooks. I'll look through the photo albums more than I'll look through the scrapbooks.

I woke up Saturday thinking, "It's 9 a.m. I've slept four hours. I need to go to the bathroom." So I did, then went back to bed until about 11:30. So six and a half hours wasn't bad.

I also woke up Saturday thinking, "Ow. My head hurts." And that there was no way I'd be able to run. But by 3 p.m., I felt better and went out for two miles before work. That felt good. Now I know I'm back to getting into an exercise routine. I've got my pace down. I'm a horrible pacer, I run too fast for the distances I want to go. But the fact that now I'm able to settle into a pace � fast or not � and continue through the end of my workout tells me I'm on the way to getting back to the kind of runner I want to be, something close to what I was in high school, but with eight years added on, of course.

Then I went to work and it was uneventful. The normal idiot who's usually in charge Saturdays is on vacation, so the person filling in did a much better job, and things went smoothly. I went home afterwards, since I was tired, and watched Saturday Night Live. It was the Val Kilmer episode, which was great � especially the "Iceman, the Later Years" sketch with Iceman as a commercial pilot. And there was this neat little Christmas song sung by Horatio Alger and Jimmy Fallon, with Chris Katan holding a keyboard that Jimmy plucked at and Tracy Morgan just wiggling his hips. I can't describe it. U2 was the musical guest, and "Elevation" (the best song off the CD) was the best SNL performance I've ever seen. Toward the end of the song, Bono walked through the set, into the audience, played with the cameras. He jumped up onto a table that was set up for the next sketch. The crowd went nuts. I've never seen it so enthused. Right toward the end, he walked past Val Kilmer and said, "C'mon baby, light my fire." What a performance.

Today's ballgame was good. Wonderful, sunny day, and I wrote a good story, one of those I didn't have trouble thinking of an idea, or a lede, or composing. I was at 19 inches before I knew it, with so much more I could've added.

I love being in a groove.

I came home and watched Duets because Gweneth is cute and Huey Lewis was once a rock god to me and I think if I listened to it, I could still sing along with all the correct words to "Heart of Rock and Roll." And the soundtrack is good and I could go days driving and listening to "Cruisin'" with the windows and roof open. It was a decent movie, but I think either too short or too cluttered. Had they cut down on the people they followed or been able to develop their stories a little further it might have been more satisfying. As it was, in the end, I felt torn between sadness and relief � sadness at the one story that ended badly, yet relief at those characters who made realizations and felt better about themselves and their place in the world.

And then, just now, I remembered, at its most basic, it's a karaoke road trip movie, and I shouldn't expect too much from it.