For some reason, I couldn’t get motivated today and spent a good portion of my time at work going over Wired and Slate. But the upside is that I did learn about a law firm in Chicago that took on a case involving those horribly proprietary ink cartridges for your home printer, if you can call that an upside. Then I got some more coffee.

But I spent the evening interviewing the lovely ladies that are bringing roller derby back to the Windy City - where the sport (hobby?) was invented in 1935 - and partying with the appropriately named Windy City Rollers. I arm-wrestled a Roller named Irish and talked about philanthropic endeavors to benefit Planned Parenthood with Juanna Rumbel (say it phonetically), who also goes by the moniker ‘Elizabeth’ to the rest of the world.

Tonight I had another of those transcendent moments, those times when you’re completely sure of what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. Those moments have been few and far between for the last few years. Hold on to them while you can.

Song of the night: ‘Sex Machine,’ James Brown. My friend Anita (she had a Roller last name too, but I forget what it is) was the DJ and was rockin’ ass.