Are you Wilson or Vaughn?

Or perhaps Walken?

This is fun to do:

http://www.weddingcrashersmovie.com/crashthistrailer

Ay, Papi

M. V. P.

Nuff said.

Scary thought: Red Sox Rant #2

Here's the scenario that scares me: tonight, Yankees win, Sox lose. Yanks go 2 up.

Setting up the situation in which the Sox must SWEEP NY this weekend to win the AL East.

It's been done. But I hope it doesn't come to that.

And then there's the Wild Card. But screw that...

Marco Polo

I've been getting lots of free polo shirts lately. Saturday, I helped out with running a NAMI fair, which was basically to educate people in the community about mental illness and recruit volunteers for our studies. My title was "Runner". My job? To carry all the heavy stuff from the kitchen into the main room. Big bins of soda and large trays of sandwiches were my lot. This is what two years in grad school has gotten me. But listening to the speakers was interesting, and I enjoyed talking to people who came to our information table, which I also sat at for a while. In the middle, I had to leave to play in my flag football game, with my team "Chan's Olives". It's named after a grad student in our department and I think "olive" is what you get if you translate football into Chinese and then back again. Seriously, I'm pretty sure that's where it came from. Anyway, we won 20-7. I caught a pass. Yeah, I'm as surprised as anyone about that one. I think I must have frozen for a second when it dropped into my hands, but then I ran like hell. Didn't make it to the end zone, but gained some good yardage. Anyone who has me on their fantasy team, you can celebrate. So right, the polo shirt. I got one for working at the NAMI fair.

The second polo shirt experience of late happened tonight, although I wouldn't really call it a full polo shirt experience. As part of a fund-raising effort for the American Stroke Association, someone I work with organized a group to work at a concession stand at Busch Stadium. I think any profits that they get after costs go to the Stroke Association, so it's a good cause. Anyway, I agreed, and down I went to the stadium around 4 today. I was told to show up at 3 if I could, but not a big deal if I couldn't. I found my way to the vendors entrance, showed ID at the right places, and proceeded down into the basement. Man, I won't try to grope for nice words - it smelled down there. And it was steamy. I'm sure the two things went hand in hand. And tonight was cool, I can't even imagine it during one of the unbearable nights in July or August. Anyway, I went to a window where I surrendered my shirt for a red, well-used short sleeve polo with the "Sport Service" logo on it. If you've ever gotten food or drink at a sporting event, you've probably been served by someone wearing this logo. So part of me felt like I was taking part in a piece of sports tradition. Part of me was also trying not to think of how many people before me had worn this very shirt.

So there's that. I'm there. I'm wearing the shirt. I find my group. I get a hat. Everything's great. So I just need to be trained, which I was sure couldn't take too long. I mean, how much time does it take to learn to use the hot dog machine or how to check someone's ID? While I wait, I survey the place. There's a snack bar for workers when they take breaks. I look at the prices. They're selling hot dogs and pretzels and sodas at vastly cheaper prices than just upstairs in the stadium. MAN. Good for the workers, but what a rip for the fans. I then found the wall accessory with revolving numbers (sponsored by Busch) that reminds vendors what the minimum drinking age is. On this day, the thing said "If you were born before 9/27/1984, head for the mountains." I found this funny, because it could be taken more than one way. Of course they mean it as a welcoming message to drink their beer if you are of age. But it could also be a way to tell someone to get lost if they're trying to drink beer illegally. "Hey, your ID is fake. You're not 21! Head for the mountains, buddy!"

Finally, after all this waiting around, I finally inquire as to when I can get trained and go upstairs and start working. Turns out that I talked to wrong person before. There's no more training. If I missed the one earlier, that was it. I was out of luck. Is there anything I can do at this point, I asked. Nope. Sorry. I returned my polo shirt, walked back to my car, and went home.

Leavy is in town tonight, so in a way it's good that I didn't have to work all night and get disgusting and have to fight traffic to get out of there on time.

Chick music

Maybe it's the sleep deprivation, but for some reason this morning I've gravitated toward other people's "chick music" on iTunes -- Avril, Alanis, and Jewel have made the playlist so far. I'm in a comtemplative mood. Guilty pleasures? Or just reality setting in? (See previous post and current AL East standings). I'm all for chick music, but I have to be in a certain mood and frame of mind to enjoy it. I guess I am.

On the precipice (Red Sox Rant #1)

That's it -- they pushed me to the limit. I made it almost an entire season without one good Red Sox Rant, but this is just too much. With the events of tonight complete, including a Sox loss at the hands of the bottom-feeding Devil Rays and a Yankees win thanks to a walk-off home run by a guy named Bubba, the NYY are .5 games behind. Basically, they're tied. Let's be honest. Half a game? This is an artificial thing. For all intents and purposes (up until very recently, I actually thought this phrase was spoken "For all intensive purposes"), they are in a tie. My only consolation is that the Sox are still, through a statistical technicality, still on the top line, where they have been since June 24. If memory serves me, the Yankees have spent less than 48 hours by themselves on that top line this season, but it is quite possible that tomorrow at this time they could be occupying the top line all by their lonesome. They hung around. They hung around all season. They won, they lost, they even spent some time in last place, but you just knew New York would make a run. So now, with two weeks left, it's put up or shut up. Thank God for Cleveland. I love that they're still front runners for the wild card. I just hope Boston won't be competing with them for it.

At least there's the Patriots....eugh. They're 1-1, playing Pitt this weekend. When was the last time they had a losing record? I can't even remember.

And then there are my fantasy football teams. Maybe we won't discuss those right now.

It's raining. I hate sports!!

I'm going to bed.

I've got the Blues

So I am now a third year grad student. Yes, hard to believe. In some way, some part of me still feels like the new guy, like I'm just getting my feet wet, just settling into this role, just feeling my way around this city, when in fact I am roughly halfway through this labyrinth (sp?) that will eventually end in me having a PhD and (hopefully) a few career options. It's a little daunting, a little exciting, a little...of everything. Two entirely new classes have come in since I got here. I'm starting to be the one who should have the answers, who should know things. It's a new role. I'll try to embrace it.

Anyway, here in my third year as a clinical psych grad student I am doing something called practicum, which is where you go for 10 hours a week to a hospital or somewhere else and you actually do what it is you've been learning to do for the past two years. Testing, psychotherapy, etc. In my case, I'm doing neuropsych testing on people who have had brain injuries and strokes. It's interesting stuff so far, challenging, fascinating, at times wrenching, especially when other family members are there and have to come to grips with the fact that someone they love has probably changed permanently and will never quite be the person they were before. So that's the heavier stuff.

The stuff that is less heavy and more fun happened last night. As part of an NHL program to make sure that hockey players don't come back too soon following a concussion or head injury, all players get neuropsych testing prior to the season, to get a baseline of cognitive functioning. Then, if (or when) they have a concussion, they get tested again to see if they are ok to play. That's where I come in. I tested a couple of guys from the St. Louis Blues last night to get their baselines. Pretty cool stuff. If I remember correctly, I tested this guy and one other guy. I think more are coming tonight, but unfortunately I can't go. I must admit, I was a little star-struck, even though I didn't really recognize anyone. Something about professional athletes is just sort of impressive.

I never thought you could put a price on human life, but...

I am worth $1,758,850.

The breakdown says that I got $200,000 for being male, which I guess is nice. I landed myself $30,000 for having average style and $45,000 for what I believe to be above average sense of humor. However, unless I'm mistaken, I believe having red hair actually COST me $15,000. Wha?? Also, being 180 pounds landed me $0. No loss, no gain, just $0. I don't understand.

So, how much are you worth?

Super

Ok, I've had some good comments in the past, mostly from ACTUAL, human readers of this blog, and I've had my fair share of ads masquarading as comments. But the comment for the post below is a real doozie. You must read it. The "commenter" purports to enjoy my stories, and tells me to "keep up the super articles!"

Following this, there is a link for life insurance.

I'm....I'm just speechless.

Thoughts on opening night

I haven't posted in a while. Mostly, I blame that on the death of our hard drive. Very sad. Sometime between last Thursday night and Friday morning, our little guy (or girl...who can say?) bit the dust. Most everything was replaceable, except for all the pictures. Those I think we'll miss a lot. But we're back in business today. New hard drive, starting fresh, a clean slate.

In other news, I decided this year not to get a parking pass for school. These things are about $360 per year, and I can definitely think of better things to do with a dollar a day than spend it on crappy parking. This doesn't sound like interesting news, and it's not really, except for the fact that it now requires me to park far away and walk to campus like the undergrads. So it sort of feels like college again, which is fun, and today on my walk from my car to campus I had the distinct pleasure of walking past some MO-PIRG people holding out clipboards and asking "Hi there, do you have a minute today for the environment?" This is where a cell phone REALLY comes in handy. You can very easily walk right by someone like that and just sort of shake your head if you appear to be deep in conversation with someone. Dave, I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that I snubbed PIRG for you. Actually, my first reaction was, "PIRG is here too???" But now I'm prepared.

As I write, the Pats are beginning their 3-peat journey. Bring on the season.