So as part of the superstar "Equipo Web" - aka Internet Team - at the company that so lucratively employs me, I am little by little and subconsciously turning into a full-fledged internet geek. I can't help it, as it is now well beyond the grasp of my control. It's like a virus (Get it? Internet? Virus?) that invades your personality and effectively breaks down any traces of coolness and turns it into pocket-protectored, cowlick-sporting and technological nerdiness. In fact, I'm beginning to fear that it's a matter of days before I acquire headgear, a membership to the Dungeons and Dragons online forum and - the cherry on top of the sundae - a resounding snort.

After seven months or so, I know html code to a simple but nevertheless existent degree, I can cruise through Dreamweaver - an html program - like the Queen Mary 2 on a calm day at sea, and I am more than familiar with snazzy terms like "upload to the server," "template," "PHP" and "domain." Which brings me to the term "webmaster." My company's webmaster, and therefore he who is directly responsible for my employment, is a nice - though marginally crazy - French guy who speaks variations of both English and Spanish, both of which require careful decoding on the part of the listener. While meeting him that warm June morning of '06 yielded a job offer, it also altered the images that the word "webmaster" once invoked in my mind.

Every time I see the word, which over the past few months has exponentially increased up into the thousands, I can't help but imagine an old, bearded wizard named Merlin wielding an orb-topped sceptor and donning a star-spackled pointy hat- a la Mickey Mouse in the cinematic treasure that was and still is Fantasia. Every time the webmaster of my imagination enters a room, an aura of mystery electrifies the atmosphere as the lights dim and a deep-voiced British accented man straight from 1750 proclaims "hear ye, hear ye... 'tis the webmaster."

Some say that I have an overactive imagination.