So, this post from the Blue-Gray Sky definitely caught my attention a year ago.

Don't tell Maryland's Ralph Friedgen that "Defense wins championships." The chalkboard Xs and Os guru might simply laugh. Over the span of his lengthy coaching career, Friedgen has invented a formula, based entirely on offensive statistics, that he and his staff argue directly correlates to winning football games. Last fall, as his team was making a run toward the ACC Championship game, he sat down to discuss this winning formula with the Washington Post.

Fridge calls his formula Major Offensive Errors (MOE). To calculate it, you count up:

• sacks
• offensive penalties
• fumbles
• interceptions
• dropped passes

Then, count the number of total plays you had in a game. (Don't forget to add in the number of no-play penalties like false starts, illegal shifts, and delays of game to the total.) Finally, divide the errors by the total plays. What you end up with is a rating of your team's efficiency -- or inefficiency -- that Friedgen relies upon heavily.

The goal is to keep the team's M.O.E. below 12% each game; Friedgen estimates that, for him, the statistic has been an accurate predictor of wins and losses 95% of the time.

So, naturally, I set out to calculate how accurate the statistic was for State last year. The answer: not very, albeit with several caveats.

So, we won one game (Pitt) in which our M.O.E. was significantly over 12% -- although Pitt's was much higher -- and in 5 of our 6 losses, our M.O.E. was under 12%. However, bear with me for a second here. In the Iowa (11.1%), Ohio State (9.7%), and Michigan (9.7%) games, we were in shouting distance of the 12% threshold; in actuality, I think we exceeded it. I culled the raw data from the play-by-play statistics from msuspartans.com; I don't know if they're trying to not hurt anyone's feelings, but the statmakers there seem especially loath to deem an incompletion a "dropped pass." In the OSU game, no dropped passes were recorded; and we were given only one and two in the Iowa and Michigan games, respectively. Surely, there were more than that -- I'm willing to bet that if I was able to look at the tape of any of those games, I'd be able to say without a doubt that we were over the 12% threshold in all of those games.

So that still leaves the two outliers -- Northwestern and Boston College. I think these can be explained away pretty easily as well -- Northwestern's M.O.E. was still extremely low, and there were no turnovers in that game (!), and conversely, all of our M.O.E. points against Boston College were extremely damaging turnovers -- a lost fumble and four interceptions.* Dammit, Brian.

*The one other clearly oddball game on that graph above was OSU, where our M.O.E. was significantly lower than theirs. However, if you recall -- we didn't lose that game because of unforced errors, we just couldn't move the ball on their defense. Todd Boeckman, on the other hand, nearly blew the game for OSU with two awful turnovers that we returned for touchdowns.

The actual M.O.E. percentage aside -- I think the raw data pretty clearly shows that, at the very least, Dantonio succeeded in instilling discipline into the team. We committed only 31 offensive penalties all season -- 2.4 per game -- and 14 of those came in 2 games (Iowa and Pitt). I don't know exactly what that number was in 2006, but I guarantee it was a lot higher.

We still need to work on our turnover margin a bit: our offense gave the ball away 2 fewer times than the opposition offense did, but one of the advantages of running a more conservative office should be greater ball control and dominance in turnover margin. Devin Thomas and Jehuu Caulcrick accounted for half of our lost fumbles in 2007 . . . but they'll be replaced by younger players, so that number isn't necessarily going to improve as a result of their departures. It's an area which can be improved.

So anyway, I think I'm going to personally keep track of the number of our dropped passes in each game this year, so maybe I can come up with an accurate M.O.E. number. I'm interested to see how accurate this really is -- one more thing to look forward to this season. Until then, I'm the guy who spent his entire afternoon figuring out a statistic that really wasn't all that descriptive or predictive of our season. Blogging is awesome.

He said "So, are you taking these teeth home with you?"

WHAT THE HECK WAS HE SMOKING? And why wasn't he sharing? Because really? That's nasty.

I have been being really really good about the amount of gluten I consume. I THINK it's starting to help. I did find that my favorite crisps are technically gluten free (depending on the oats, there might be trace amounts) and that a lot of things that I buy regularly at the Wallyworld and are their store brand are CLEARLY LABELED "gluten free". This made me extra happy. To help me cope and think more positively about things I CAN eat, instead of what I CAN'T eat, I've started a list of things, and the brands, that I buy that at this point are safe. Things can change from time to time, so I'll have to keep an eye out, but it's very comforting.

So, I'm telling you all this, so I can tell you this.

I HATE HAVING TO SUCK IT UP AND BE AN ADULT ABOUT THIS CRAP!

Can I throw a tantrum now?

(Yes, I know this picture kinda sucks, but I was using Hubs' point and shoot cheapo camera, and couldn't really see what I was doing.) Little Z was happy to be going out to Middle of No Where Air Force Base. It sounded fun to her or something.

Every year they have tons of blow up bouncy stuff for the kids. We recently went to an indoor bounce place, so *Z* was all about the slide. Not even scared to climb to the top.

Bouncy castles are fun! The girls didn't want to get out, even though we were going to be moving on to yet ANOTHER bouncy thing.

Aren't these little brats cute? I'm convinced they don't like each other very much, because it was like pulling teeth to get them to even stand NEAR each other. The hookers.

There was food too. Some semi-acceptable grilled corn and hot dogs.

Now, I'm off to go swimming. Because it's hot, and I got off work early. I'm going to enjoy my Saturday. You go do the same!

So, I drop my kids off with Erica for a bit, so I can run in and run out and not have to fight with my kids at the mall. I get called back, and basically, they should only have to check and make sure they are right. I put them in, and the first thing I say is "Wow. This actually hurts. I've had them itch before, but pain is a new thing..." The technician says "Oh, no, they don't hurt, you just aren't used to them."

What? I'm 25. I've had two kids. I just had mouth "surgery". I'm fairly sure I know what pain is. Maybe I'm wrong. Or she was an idiot, whatever. They wait for the optometrist to check my eyes, and she notices that I am not remotely seeing like I should. Turns out, the toric thingamajig was not even CLOSE to the right toric thingamajig that I need. Which is why they HURT!

But whatever. I just wasn't used to them. Grrrr!

I just can't stand when she has her "words" and then all of the sudden, she says the right word. Today, her new real word is "ketchup". This is really sad, cause the *z*-ism is so much cuter.

"Chee-chup".

Am I the only one who thinks it sucks when the last baby starts growing up? Cause really? This might define major suckage.

I cannot stand electric stoves. (Sorry Gram, but they suck!) So, lucky me, we have electric in our apartment. I made some yummy, sodium filled rice with dinner tonight. The kind with the sauce that has to stand and thicken. Well, even if you turn off an electric burner, it stays hot, so I moved the pot to a cool burner. Can you guess what happened next? Yup.

Big Z walked in, and stuck her fingers on the burner, just as the words "DON'T TOUCH THE..." came out of my mouth. I'm pretty sure that I've been saying "stay out of the kitchen" since she could crawl. Every freaking day. Positive of that fact. Really now? She forgot since breakfast what the rules are?

Somedays, I hate my kids...

So. There are six quirky things about me. The list can go on, but I'm following the rules today. Except, I'm being rebellious, and putting the rules last.

List the rules, and six unspectacular quirks about yourself.

Tag six people, and link to them.

Holly tagged me for this one, so I'll exclude her from the list. Tiffany, Erica, Stacy, Sonya, Melody, and Becky? Y'all are up!

7- "Cars women like dating" - I must admit that I don't have much car dating experience, but a nice Toyota makes me hot.
6- I'm weird and I don't like it - You are weird and nobody likes it.
5-"Slap my boobs" - Something I usually request of people.
4- "Why are men so retarded at dating" - If you find out the answer to this question, please, let me know.
3- "I want to be bubbly and not moan" - Don't we all?
2- "Mom masterbates in front of daughter" & "mother masterbates her daughter" - Once again, I really don't know what to say about this one, other than I think that there are SOME people who should be forcibly sterilized.
1- "Why do guys masterbate in front of girls" - I'm thinking that maybe I should change my site name from "Megatropolis" to "Masterbatropolis".

There weren't a lot of excuses (only two actually) that I would have accepted for this guy not contacting me. But he had one of them. Maybe I jumped to conclusions, but in light of my past relationships, it's understandable (right or wrong) that I did so. But I'm OK with admitting I'm wrong, and I was, happily so.

I wasn't abandoned by the new man. And I guess there is a little silver lining to this whole experience. In a way this little "drama" helped us to open up a little and let each of us realize that just maybe we CAN trust the other.

It's hard to not let past hurts and experiences not make me jaded. Finding the balance between keeping myself safe and being wise all while attempting to keep an open mind and not punishing people for others "sins" is still something I'm working on. But for now, things are good, and life is going on.

Recently, while discussing her birthday, *Z* has decided she wants a fashion show party. I've been asking everyone what in the world that would be, because I'm clueless. Erica and I took our eldest children to the park tonight, because neither one of us were in any shape to entertain our children where physical activity was called for. I was telling her about the fashion show, and she asked Big Z what that was and if she had ever seen one.

The conversation went like this:

Erica: Hey *Z*, what's a fashion show party?

*Z*: I don't know.

Erica: Have you seen something on TV with a fashion show?

Me: Did you watch Project Runway?

*Z*: I chased the rabbit.

So. If you some how speak 3 year old gobblety gook, and understand how in the world "I chased a rabbit" is the answer to "did you watch Project Runway" please tell me. Otherwise, can we figure out what a fashion show party is? I'm about four months behind in my party planning!

You may have noticed that the frequency of my posts have slowed quite a bit the last month or so. Is it because I've been frolicking in the joy that is summer? Is it because I've been trapped under something heavy and have only have enough battery power in my laptop that forces me to blog only once a week in order to conserve energy?

Surprisingly, no.

I have been somewhat hesitant to write about my life as of late because, frankly, I didn't want to jinx anything. For the same reason, I've only talked about it with a few people. So, much of what I did in relationships pasts, I've held off on doing this time around. The hope being that if I did it different this time around, it might yield a different result. But despite my attempts to avoid this "one" going down in a ball of flames like his predecessors, it seems the curse upon me is so fucking unbreakable that there isn't a damn thing I can do to free myself from it.

I've been (or I guess it's probably appropriate to use the past tense now... I was) seeing someone for the last month or so. From the beginning things were great. We had so much in common with regards to our beliefs, values, tastes, etc., that it was almost scary. There was serious chemistry, both mentally and physically.

There are a lot of details about what happened that I could go into at this point, but it doesn't really matter. Because the most important thing... the kicker... is that despite everything going great, it looks as if this relationship is ending EXACTLY like my former.

What are the odds? What are the fucking odds that this relationship would end in EXACTLY the same way that my former one did? With NO explanation! They just vanish. And just like last time, the words I hear before they depart are super sweet. This time it was a text that read "Good morning. I've been thinkin' about you." followed by a phone call in which he told me he'd call me in an hour.

Yeah, you guessed it, it's been longer than an hour.

I just can't believe that this is happening to me again! And I know what you're thinking... What is it that I'm doing to drive these men away!

A very good question. But when I go over everything in my head, the answer is: Nothing I tell you! At least not in the obvious ways. I am nice, fun, laid back, don't put any pressure on them, don't have the "relationship" talk, don't call or text unless it's in response, etc.

Therefore, the only possible answers are that, 1) I am indeed cursed, 2) God really isn't very fond of me, 3) I have the worst jerk radar and manage to find the nicest assholes in all of Salt Lake Valley, or 4) they really are all evil. Whatever the answer, once again my little stupid shiveled-up, gangrened heart is broken, and I'm left here alone wondering how, why, and what I did to deserve this.

Ever the photographer, I had to take out the camera a couple of times. This is what we ate. And Erica picked, and I would so trust her with my life based on her choice of fondue alone!

This would be milk chocolate, with caramel and pecans. It's called the "Flaming Turtle". I would have had a better shot, and I hope you will pretend that there isn't a giant streak of chocolate down the side of the pot, but really? Do you see this? It tasted 1000x better than it looks. Honest. I would never lie to the three of you!

Accompanying this beautiful pot of ambrosial delight were plates full of yum to dip into it. They looked like this. (Yes there was more. No, I will not say if we did or did not inhale the missing ones the minute the waiter walked away from the table.)

And what do the three most beautiful mommies formally and presently of our local Air Force base look like when they go out to dessert on a Tuesday, simply because they can?

Just so you know, we were totally whistled at as we drove down the street. I'm just sayin'.

And then. There's that saying that says "You live for the nights you won't remember with people you'll never forget" or something like that... (And this was also the night that Sara learned that the flash goes off at a weird interval on her camera. It's a good thing I'm a stripper and not a professional photographer...)

Our solution became clear today. We know what we are going to do. We are going to move back on base. As soon as The Hubs moves from the base he is at, to the base he is "going to". (It's a total of 12 miles from one base to the other) We lived on base when we first got here. And sadly, only moved out to make money on The Hubs' trip to the sandbox last winter. We could time it so that we get one of the newly constructed houses, but at this point, I don't care. This apartment is too small, and honestly, it is getting on my nerves. We will be looking into breaking our current lease and getting the heck outta here!

It'll be nice. I miss being on base, and even though she is the only one left of my "group" of friends, it's still way better than what we are doing now!

I've done the online "thing" on and off since my divorce, and each time, I tell myself I won't do it again. Because for the most part, I don't think online dating works. Of course there are always exceptions to the rules. I had a couple of decent, even (seemingly) good dates this go-around. But in general, online dating blows, and not in a good way.

That's why I'm asking that the next time I even THINK about joining another site, please, stop me. I don't care how, just intervene. Pry the keyboard away from my sex deprived hands, take a white glove (picture French gentleman, 17th century), and lovingly smack the shit out of me. And in case I forget to tell you later, thanks.