On Tuesday last i again hopped on Caltrain with my iPod blazing and headed up to meet V in the city. We popped by Slim's around 7:15pm to pick up our tickets to that night's show, britpop survivors and Irish power trio-turned-four piece Ash opening for the latest music press-dubbed BEST BAND IN THE FREAKIN' UNIVERSE, New York neo-glam cum dance punk outfit the Bravery. We subsequently met up with Gary for a good Thai meal at the restaurant (Manora's) around the corner, then headed back to the venue to await Ash's scheduled 9:15pm set. V had one extra ticket so she was patiently waiting for an honest-looking person to wade through the scalpers in search of entrance to the sold-out show. After a few unsuccessful candidates, we spotted a little Asian girl communicating with one of the scalpers. He appeared to be directing her to the mini-market and ATM across the street, trying to get maximum $$$ out of her. She went off that way, and V met her in the middle of 11th St. and handed her the extra ticket. Much to the annoyance of the thwarted scalper. Gary, V, and i then hurried inside Slim's to escape any possible wrath.

We found a reasonable spot to stand and awaited Ash's arrival. It must be said, i was not the biggest fan of Tim Wheeler and co. back in the day, and certainly haven't paid attention to them for a long time. I remember seeing them play a Sunday afternoon show at Bottom of the Hill around 1995 and thinking they were awful. Sure, they wrote catchy songs ... who doesn't like "Kung Fu" or "Girl from Mars"? The problem was that on the record there were 2 or 3 guitar parts, and live it was just Tim. And to put it bluntly, he's no Paul Weller. Two or three albums ago the band apparently recognized this problem, and enlisted a girl named Charlotte as a second guitarist. Their set began with a few lively new numbers, then hit upon the aforementioned earlier favorites. And as it went on, i realized "wait, Charlotte's the lead guitarist, Tim's doing backup!" And then the thought began to creep into my head that Tim was playing next to nothing. As if in response to my wonderings, Tim's amp blew out on "Kung Fu" and he stopped playing entirely, and there was my proof ... yes, it's all Charlotte. Despite my characteristic musings, Ash were actually pretty good. I was impressed enough by their more recent material to check out their latest album Meltdown.

Now we come to indie radio's latest darlings, the Bravery. Their catchy song "Honest Mistake" is now in heavy rotation on Live 105. After what seemed an unending span while their roadies set the stage, the band came out and launched into "Unconditional" from their debut album No Brakes. Oh, where to begin? The singer looked like the Irish gangster villain from Charlie's Angels 2: Full Throttle ... leather jacket, belt chains and boots, and jet black hair pushed forward into a point, almost in the devil's locks style of Misfits-era Glen Danzig. The guitarist's head could've been that of David Bowie circa 1974, and it was placed on a torso sporting a John Lennon-esque New York City t-shirt. The bass player looked like Curt Smith of Tears for Fears with streaky eyeliner like Visage. The keyboardist, two words: World Party. The drummer, well we'll leave him alone. Suffice it to say that there was a parade of cliché going on here, and to back it up we had barrels upon barrels of ego. The music? Totally uninspiring. The singer can't sing, the guitarist plays riffs lifted from countless other, better bands, and the keyboardist adds in the dance punk synth lines du jour. By the end of the set i wanted to climb on stage and brain the preening, posing, "i'm so cool i'm pissed at everything" bass player. I probably would have had i been in the front and been doused by his beer during one of his pseudo-rock'n'roll moments. When they ended their set i was past ready to leave, but we stayed for their one song encore (separated from the main set by a scant thirty seconds, ostensibly so they could return to continued crowd support and pretend they'd been cheering for them for 10 minutes). V asked Gary how this horrible performance should end, to which he responded "they could play a bad cover song". And lo, the keyboardist began playing the opening synth of INXS's "Don't Change". Good night.

Maybe i'm being overly harsh. But when a band likes to compare themselves to Fugazi, they'd better not suck this bad.

Off to the airport shortly to pick up Sean and Michelle who are here for the weekend. Lots planned ... going to see Sin City, hitting Michael's going away party at Jillian's, building a dog run for our two little devils Tara and Pepe, and getting in some Halo 2 and/or FIFA 2005 action. Speaking of video games, i picked up the latest Sam Fisher adventure Splinter Cell: Chaos Theory for Xbox yesterday. I've only snuck past two or three people so far though so i'll defer any reviews until i get my hands a little dirtier.

A week ago Saturday V took me off to the airport where i departed for Orlando and the Academy of Molecular Imaging annual meeting. Flying on the new United subdivision "Ted" was a source of nonstop amusement. "Ted will be happy to serve you lunch and the beverage of your choice." ... i don't remember volunteering for that! Actually, i'm rather indifferent to see you. Hee hee. I managed to review a paper on the plane and get a little other work done. My new ultramobile Dell laptop is fantastic for travel ... i have no idea how i got around, let alone worked with that Inspiron 8000 brick i carried around for three years.

My postdoc Ivana and i arrived in Florida at about 9pm Saturday night and caught a cab to our hotels. I stayed at the Gaylord Palms Resort, adjacent to the convention center. I was expecting just a hotel, but this place had a huge atrium with shops, restaurants, and ... lo and behold ... "Gator Springs". While walking to the elevators to my room, i passed over a bridge and there below me were five or six alligators and a collection of turtles. Eek! I intended to catch the feeding on Tuesday evening, but unfortunately it completely slipped my mind. Doh ... i could've gotten to hold one! I was also hoping to get in a trip to Disney World, but the conference schedule ruled that out. The meeting went very well. I had several good interactions with colleagues from around the country, and bonded a bit with my Stanford chums over drinks at the reception. More comfortable all the time. The meeting was split along somewhat peculiar lines, reflecting the division of the AMI between the Institute for Clinical PET, the Institute for Molecular Imaging, and the Society for Non-Invasive Drug Development. That meant that at any given time i could have two or three very interesting sessions to choose from, or absolutely nothing even remotely related to my work going on.

"Uhhhh ... k ... kel ... chel ... see ... Chelsea! ... eleven ... p ... poy ... points ... clear. ... I don't understand."

My trip home took me through Chicago and finally back to SFO, arriving at 1am Thursday morning. On the way i managed to get quite a lot of work done, including revising my Journal of Biomedical Optics paper (for the third time ... grrr) and writing a one page seed grant proposal. Finishing that, i got to relax and watch The Incredibles on the way from O'Hare to SFO. I think it's Pixar's best film yet ... the fifties/sixties action aesthetic is perfect, the animation is spellbinding, and the humor caters to all ages. I then perused the SkyMall magazine, and came across this ad for the "reading pen". A statement about the IQ of Manchester United supporters?

Despite being totally deprived of sleep, i made it to work Thursday morning. And to 21st Amendment in the city for dinner with Naomi, Veronica, and Michael, and then to Popscene for Mr. Kloster's last visit before his impending move to Vietnam. God knows how i made it to 2am. I remember drinking a bunch of Bass Ales, throwing beer on the crowd while stomping on the dance floor during Blur's "Popscene", and being really miffed at the assorted excuses why the dj's wouldn't play the irresistable "Call It Ours" by new favorites the Legends. Despite only getting 3 hours of sleep, i again made it to work and to the 5-7pm poster session for the Stanford Bio-X "Watching Life" symposium, where my two AMI posters got a second showing. I then collapsed after arriving home, while Veronica and Raffi headed down to Sunnyvale to see Julieta Venegas.

I awoke at the usual 7:30am Saturday to feed the hungry and very awake dogs, then caught a few more hours of sleep. V and i then coordinated a breakfast/lunch in Sausalito at the good ol' Lighthouse Cafe with Naomi and Geoff. We then whiled away the afternoon at Best Buy and looking for a new car for V at the BMW/Mini dealership. She may finally realize her Mini dream when our tax refund comes back. Now the question is what goodies she's going to add to it. Speaking of cars, Geoff picked me up a new Alpine head unit and an iPod interface unit for my Jetta from his friend in LA. Now i'm debating whether i should trade the head unit up for the ooh-ahh-inspiring touch panel model.

Sunday, being the commemoration of Jesus's resurrection, we took N+G to Fremont where my parents had organized a family Easter dinner. A lot of fun, interspersed with a highly competitive dominoes match and scenes from the epic Kentucky/Michigan State battle for a spot in the Final Four. My March Madness bracket was hopelessly destroyed some time ago, but that means i can now enjoy the tourney without any ulterior motives. Despite the religious right's suggestions we managed to celebrate Easter without including a viewing of The Passion of the Christ. Instead, i kept thinking of an old Sam Kinison bit.

It's a pretty good trick to pull off, come back from the dead and not scare the hell out of everybody, huh? Jesus is the only guy that did that, you know? He's the only guy that ever came out of the fucking grave after being dead for three days where people didn't go "Ah ah AAAAAAAAH!!! THE DEAD LIVE, THE DEAD FUCKING LIVE!!!!! OH MY GOD ... OH, KILL IT, KILL IT!" And yeah, anybody else man, anybody else, people freak. Jesus comes out, it's like nothing, it's like "It's Jesus! Hey, you're a little dusty there aren't ya? Let's wipe some of that off. God ... what'd ya ride with the top down huh?"

Back to work today ... i'll sign off with another United Ted advertisement. This one is slightly uncomfortable depending on how deranged your particular psyche is.

When i was in 8th grade, i had my parents take me to the Wherehouse one night so i could buy New Order's Substance (cassette of course, this was 1988), which i'd heard at a friend's birthday party a few weeks earlier. Actually, i'd only heard "True Faith", but my curiosity was piqued nonetheless. On the way home in the Vanagon i put it on the tape player, and lied to my parents when they asked me if i knew the songs ... despite "Ceremony" and "Everything's Gone Green" being completely foreign i naturally answered "oh yeah, i know this song too". After multiple listens on the Sony boombox in my room, my affection for New Order increased and i soon picked up Power, Corruption, and Lies and Brotherhood from their backcatalog. I also recall trying in vain to convert the True Faith 12" to tape by placing a tape recorder in front of my parent's phono speakers.

I would visit Rainbow Records every few weeks or so, always wandering over to the New Order section to see if there was anything new. I became used to flipping past Stephen Morris's face on Low-Life, Peter Saville's roses on PC&L, the aqua block shapes on Movement, and the blue wash of Brotherhood. However, one day in 1989 there was something new ... a bunch of heretofore unseen cassettes with a gray cover and a neon image of a cherubic statue. Technique had been released, but this was the first i'd heard of it since i was as yet totally insulated from any sort of music news outlet. What a feeling ... like getting a present that you had no idea was coming. In a lot of ways i'm still trying to recapture that feeling with music ... searching for a completely unknown band that hits you like a punch in the gut.

	Along the outside wall we have the couch (newly relocated from the living room), adjacent to our cd racks. I was quite happy to finally have all the cds in one spot. Well, actually the compilations don't fit in these three cabinets, but i won't split hairs.
	In our mini-entertainment center we have the TV, which as yet is unconnected to the cable so is more or less non-functional. Very soon however it will have my second Xbox and the Dreamcast attached to it, so it won't be entirely useless. Of more interest ot me is a niche for my amp and guitars, which will hopefully get me back into noodling around and dreaming of becoming a rock star.
	On the wall opposite the cd racks we've put Veronica's old desk. Currently it provides a stand for a cd changer that isn't doing much of anything, and my old laptop. I went out and bought a wireless g adapter for the laptop and a wireless range expander for the house, and as a result we have a 54 Mbps network connection with 50-60% signal strength. Not bad ... certainly good enough to surf the web and to connect to V's and my iTunes libraries on our computers in the house. I played amateur electrician last week and spliced a few cables, allowing the laptop's audio output to play over the stereo's speakers. Nothing pretty, but it works. My four track is also on the desk, waiting for me to concoct something worth recording. You'll also notice the Ikea track lighting on the ceiling, which provides plenty of illumination and seems to work with the general aesthetic. Game on!

Last Friday afternoon i dropped off my posters at the printers for the upcoming Academy of Molecular Imaging meeting in Orlando, then hurried home to see Bud as he put the finishing touches on our living room remodeling. All that's left now is to paint, which we're putting off until V's mom comes to visit in June. V, who was been suffering with a virus that she most likely caught from me, then downed some dayquil and advil and we headed to the city. First dinner at the always tasty Chai Yo with Geoff and Naomi, then off to Slim's for the evening's hot ticket, the first Bay Area appearance of current NME darlings Kasabian as they opened for fellow brits the Music. We arrived just after the conclusion of the opening band, and worked our way through the crowd to a passable standing point and waited for the lights to go down. I've mentioned before that i really dig Kasabian's debut album, but am always suspicious when the hype machine kicks into high gear. No worries here though, the boys from Leicester lived up to all expectations. The set began with the electronic noodling intro to "ID", building into the rolling groove of the main part of the song ("music is my world"). Their performance included all the highlights of the album ... "Processed Beats", "Reason is Treason", "LSF (Lost Souls Forever)", "Cutt Off", plus a few b-sides and other unrecognized but engaging songs. They closed with the primal "Club Foot", with the guitarist and singer shouting "ah aaah haa haaaa ha haaaa" at the top of their lungs during the chorus. The best part about the show was the complete lack of pretension and attitude. As someone on Live 105 remarked the next day, most British bands come to the US after having had their asses kissed continously by the UK music press for a year or so, and react violently to the marked decline in fan and media interest across the pond. None of that from Kasabian, who were at all times very friendly and chatty with the crowd. I told V we should leave at that point since there was no way the Music could compete with their openers, but we stayed for one song. It got me interested, but unfortunately at that point V and our old friend Sean, who we'd run into in the crowd, opted to head to Club ID to see Kevin Anderson (up from LA) so i was taken away. While it was good to hang with Kevin and his friend Doug, my feelings for Club ID can be summed up with a slightly modified Love and Rockets quote: "Ball of pretension, that's what this club is today ... hey hey". Apart from the uninspired djs and the horrible Moving Units-esque band Ashbury from LA (prompting the quote of the evening from Kevin: "This kind of music must be really easy to make"), you could occupy yourself with watching the parade of the self-obsessed.

V spent the weekend recuperating so i busied myself around the house, washing lots of laundry, tidying, and reassembling our entertainment center in its new location in front of the newly-installed living room wall. Geoff and Naomi stopped by Saturday evening for dinner and some Halo 2 action. I'm not sure why, but my skills seem to ebb and flow in very odd cycles. On Saturday night i got schooled repeatedly. Sunday morning i was slightly more competitive, but i still get the feeling i'm not putting in the time to beat down the 12 year-olds. Oh well, i'm not going to go into training just for that. V decided it was time to see a doctor Sunday morning, so i took her to Kaiser before the four of us headed north to have brunch with Michael. That effort was thwarted as i had failed to account for the presence of the St. Patrick's Day parade in downtown, halting our progress towards the Golden Gate Bridge and Sausalito where Michael was patiently waiting in a cafe. We called him to apologize and cancel, then had lunch in the Mission. V and i ended the weekend by picking up my sister's futon in Fremont and having dinner with my parents at the Palo Alto Creamery. The futon has replaced our living room sofa, which in turn completed the furnishings in our music room.

On Saturday i'm off to Orlando for the AMI meeting, which should be good (even if i don't get a chance to check out Disneyworld). That leaves V to care for our doggies for five days by herself. I'm trying to convince Tara her name is Dorito ... why? Dunno. Just for the hell of it i guess.

you've gotta roll with it you've gotta take your time you've gotta say what you say don't let anybody get in your way 'cause it's all too much for me to take don't ever stand aside don't ever be denied you wanna be who you'll be if you're coming with me i think i've got a feeling i've lost inside i think i'm gonna take me away and hide i'm thinking things that i just can't abide i know the road down which your life will drive i find the key that lets you slip inside kiss the girl she's not behind the door do you know i think i recognize your face but i've never seen you before

My uncle Bud and cousin Chris have been marching towards a successful conclusion to our first home renovation. As you can see from the pics, the new doorway is complete (save for painting), and only a few finishing touches remain on the wall that fills in the previous doorway. You can also pick out the digital thermostat that ahem, yes, i myself installed. Hopefully in a day or two we'll be able to move our entertainment center into its new location and set up the living room in its permanent arrangement. Keep your eyes peeled for pics of our 95% complete rumpus room soon too.

If my EKG is any indication, whoever came up with the tagline "boring, boring Chelsea" is f@$#ing retarded. My stomach, head, and heart have been doing loops since late last night in anticipation of today's Champions League round of 16 showdown with Barcelona at Stamford Bridge. Having to overcome a 2-1 deficit from the first leg in Spain, we needed to either A) win 1-nil to go through on away goals, or B) win by 2 or more goals. Last night i had dreams of a European let-down, certainly not the best omen but probably more indicative of my nervous disposition. Thanks mom! This morning i put my Damien Duff kit on under my sweater and headed to work.

ESPN2 was broadcasting the match, so i set my Tivo to catch it while i stayed at work. Following the live online commentary (at times with one window in front in case i felt the urge to shield myself from potential bad news), i punched the air when Eidur Gudjohnsen latched onto Mateja Kezman's point-perfect cross in the 8th minute, controlling expertly, wrongfooting Barça defender Gerard, and pounding home to give the Blues a 1-nil lead. Criteria A met, but could it hold? Even better: Barça's defense proceeded to fall apart and gave up an empty net rebound to Frank Lampard and a driven low shot by Damien Duff to put the English side in command, 3-nil. Safe? Hardly.

Paulo Ferreira got whistled for a handball in the area, and Ronaldinho converted the penalty to pull one back. Then Ronaldinho created something from nothing and arced a shot past Petr Cech to make it 3-2 Chelsea. Uh oh ... now we don't meet criteria A or B. Chelsea managed to escape to the locker rooms without allowing any further damage, but knew they needed to score again in the second half to emerge victorious. Meanwhile, i was ready to beat my head against a wall. I decided to head home for lunch and take in the second half on ESPN2, using the excuse of needing to see the dogs and check on my uncle (who's putting the finishing touches on our remodel).

I arrived home 20 minutes into the second half (still 3-2) and flipped on the TV, meanwhile putting some pasta and sausage leftovers from last night in the microwave. When i got my lunch back to the TV, i sat down just in time to see the Blues win a corner. Damien Duff swung it away from goal, where John Terry had lost his marker and sent a glancing header at a significant angle across the face of goal and Barça keeper Victor Valdes, into the bottom right corner. Booya! Criteria B is back on, baby! The last fifteen minutes were tense, but Chelsea dealt with the few remaining Barcelona attacks effectively. Our expensive squad has passed yet another test, and marches on in our quest for domestic and European glory!

In retrospect, despite the annoying aspects of José Mourinho's press ramblings, he definitely won the mindgame with Barça manager Frank Rijkaard. In the first leg, he declared Duff out of the running due to injury, then placed him in the starting lineup. He meanwhile named Barcelona's starting squad with 100% accuracy. In the return leg, the question was whether Chelsea wing wizard Arjen Robben would come back from his 6 week foot injury. Mourinho said no, but this time Rijkaard said he fully expected Robben to play (fool me once ... fool me twice ...). But lo, Robben doesn't play and Rijkaard has again failed to predict the Chelsea lineup. However, this victory is for the players. After letting Barcelona come back to 3-2, it looked like a Blue collapse was on the cards. That we persevered and earned the winner should give the squad loads of confidence to push forward and claim more titles.

I'm looking forward to watching the match in its entirety later tonight. Until then, i'm going to further indulge my superstitious side and transcribe the Chelsea fight song i listened to 3 times before (and during) the match.

Chelsea Chelsea, you know i love you Chelsea Chelsea, i'm thinking of you You've got something that makes me want to follow you When i see you, i feel emotion So much deeper than any ocean Chelsea Chelsea, you're looking good all dressed in blue Everyone talks about you I knew it from the start You would get through to everybody's heart Chelsea Chelsea, the birds are singing Here in London, the bells are ringing Chelsea Chelsea, it's you and only you for me

Did i mention that we're getting Arjen Robben back next week?

Predictably, Barcelona are now reading the riot act to anyone who will listen about why they didn't come away with a win. The entire team is claiming that a Ricardo Carvalho foul should've ruled out John Terry's winner. Striker Samuel Eto'o has gone so far as to say "They are not a good team, they scored three quick goals because we let them". Ahem, i think the definition of a good team is one that does not let their opponent score. So what does that say about Barça? Sour freaking grapes. I know, i've been there. To be certain, it's not like Eto'o was lighting up the score sheet today. Rijkaard was at least conciliatory in defeat, while his players seem to be still digging for excuses for their failure. Don't bother fellas, you got beat by a team that flat out wanted it more than you.

Last night i took my first voyage into the crawl space under our house. Actually, there's a good 4-4.5 feet of clearance down there so it's almost beyond "crawl" space. The reason for my visit was to identify the attachments of our thermostat wires, so i could hook up our new digital, programmable thermostat. Forced to exit once after i learned i would need a screwdriver to remove the face plate on the furnace, i quickly returned and was able to trace the two leads to their connections. I returned upstairs (only slightly dirty from the excursion), hooked up the thermostat, set it to 75 degrees, and lo and behold the furnace kicked in. I should've been a contractor. If i wasn't so mechanically uninclined. Maybe an electrician.

Speaking of real contractors, my uncle has almost finished our new living room/dining room doorway, and is finishing up by sanding, staining, and sealing the floor in the threshold. It looks fantastic ... he did a great job replicating the door framing and molding. Next up is filling in the old living room/kitchen doorway. Hopefully that will be wrapped up sometime next week.

Last night i also made a very nice dinner (pork chops with rosemary and rock salt, a new specialty) and replaced my computer's wireless keyboard and mouse, which had recently stopped functioning after receiving a hot tea bath. V has moved a lot of cds and furniture into our new music room out in the garage. I haven't spent time there yet due to my ailing health, but as soon as i'm back to speed i'm going to head out there to organize my mini-studio.

My sore throat is slowly going away. Lately it hasn't so much been my throat as the back of my mouth and the base of my tongue, which are inflamed. Hallmarks of viral infections, according to my doctor. Last night i slept fine, but when i awoke the roof of my mouth was very sore. I'd either been breathing through my mouth all night long (hot air from the furnace, no less), or mucus had been draining down from my nose. So now i've got this patch that i just can't seem to soothe with tea or cough drops. Argh.