Met up with old friend Lance last night at the Edinburgh Castle for two pints of Boddingtons and a two piece fish and chips. We caught up for an hour or two, then walked a block over to the Great American Music Hall for the second of a two night stint by Broken Social Scene. I'd been anxious about seeing them ever since i bought the tickets a few weeks back. Their second album You Forgot It In People is nothing short of brilliant, and their first Feel Good Lost is incredible as well. I had high expectations for the Toronto natives.

We walked in during Jason Collett's set. A member of BSS, Jason was also playing as an opener. Pretty good pop songs, distinctly different from those of the headlining act, but worthwhile also. Next up was Stars, which Allmusic describes as "More New Order and Saint Etienne than the Smiths". What an awful description. I would cast them as The Cherry Orchard meets The Aluminum Group. Not a bad act at all. As it turns out, they also share members with BSS, notably singer/guitarist Amy Millan who lended the vocals to Broken Social Scene's amazing "Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl".

BSS took the stage en masse at about 10:30pm. Lance and i were curious how they could fit 11 people on the diminutive Great American stage, but they managed. What an incredible set. BSS's mastery of the pop song is essentially unparalleled. They can write slow burners ("Anthems", "Looks Just Like The Sun"), epic jams ("Pacific Theme", "Alive In 85"), profound pop ("Stars And Sons"), and just kick-yer-ass rock songs ("KC Accidental", "Almost Crimes"). And all of them leave you with chills. Their incorporation of horns adds an atmosphere to their music that i'm surprised hasn't been taken up by more indie bands. These guys just get it.

Oh yeah, we also picked up Veronica's dog Cobi yesterday. But i'll discuss that later. I'm still revelling in the glory of eleven amazing Canadians.

park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me

home is where I want to be pick me up and turn me round i feel numb born with a weak heart guess i must be having fun the less we say about it the better make it up as we go along feet on the ground, head in the sky it’s ok, i know nothing’s wrong home is where i want to be but i guess i’m already there i come home she lifted up her wings i guess that this must be the place i can’t tell one from another did i find you or you find me? there was a time, before we were born if someone asks, this where i’ll be out of all those kinds of people you got a face with a view i’m just an animal looking for a home share the same space for a minute or two and you love me till my heart stops love me till i’m dead eyes that light up, pass right through you cover up the blank spots hit me on the head

It is a shameless plug, but then, they did used to call me Ted Shameless.

Back to the topic at hand: Veronica's web site is now up and running, after much much sweat and toil on my part. Have a look.

Gary caught this pic of me celebrating shortly after defeating Sean and Manchester United in the SMFA Cup final. We're currently debating improved names for the tourney, which will hopefully occur regularly now that we've corrupted Matthew ... he bought an Xbox two days after the competition, determined to begin moving up the table. Sorry Dionne!

Bear in mind that it's about 5am in this photo. See the clock?

Going backward, i've been pretty darn busy. For good or bad, more than a little of my brainpower has been devoted to following Chelsea as their title challenge gains momentum. I was a smidge anxious the Sunday after our epic victory over Lazio, as we faced Newcastle at Stamford Bridge. If you had to pick a match for a let-down, this was it. But my Sunday morning was golden as i awoke to find that we'd decimated them, 5-nil. The win was punctuated by a sweeeeeeet goal from new hero Damien Duff, as he skipped past a defender and rifled a shot past Shay Given. Even better, Claudio Ranieri rewarded the heroes of Rome by not making any modifications to the squad. And lo and behold, this first repeat squad of the season is only one man off the formation i threw out a while back! Hasselbaink is out, with Mutu favored instead, but that i can accept. We're now in the midst of some off-time while international qualifiers happen. I can't wait to watch the further evolution of the Blues. It's been a great ride so far.

On Sunday evening we met up with my parents then headed north to SF. The occasion? Veronica's birthday was the day before, and my mom's is today (happy birthday Mom!), so we arranged to have a nice meal at Kuleto's followed by the live stage show of A Mighty Wind at the Warfield. Luckily Veronica and i had acquainted ourselves with the movie the night before, which is arguably even funnier than the fantastic Best In Show. On par with the all-time great Spinal Tap. We were all curious about how they would orchestrate the live show. As it turned out, all of the main players were there ... Eugene Levy and Catherine O'Hara as Mitch & Mickey, Michael McKean, Christopher Guest, and transsexual Harry Shearer as The Folksmen, and the collective New Main Street Singers featuring Parker Posey, Jane Lynch, and John Michael Higgins. Totally hilarious. And incredibly enough, the music stood on its own as well. Mitch & Mickey had several songs worthy of Simon and Garfunkel. Also represented was the host of the show, Jonathan Steinbloom (aka Bob Balaban) and PR director Amber Cole (aka Jennifer Coolidge). Great fun.

I came to work the Monday after having pondered whether to submit a short grant application to the Society of Nuclear Medicine for $8000 to develop software for planning radiation therapies based on multiple anatomic, functional, and/or molecular imaging datasets. I'd been going back and forth on this for a few weeks. With the deadline only four days away, my conscience decided to make things hard on me and not let me slack off. So i worked feverishly to produce a proposal, rationale, background, and budget. On Thursday afternoon it was Fed-Exed to the SNM, with the blessing of my Research Process Manager. I'm not thrilled with it, and i have my doubts as to whether it will be funded, but writing the application was a valuable experience that will undoubtedly help as i ask bigger and bigger agencies for more and more money. I was slated to attend that evening's show by The Rapture at the Great American Music Hall, but i was so worked that i came home and crashed instead.

A comparatively laid-back day at work on Friday passed, then i drove off to pick up Sean and Michelle at the SJ Airport. I chose to take the streets in fear of what the 101 would look like. It probably took about as long, but oddly enough i passed the Decathlon Club along the way, site of my junior prom way back when. After collecting the newlyweds, we went back to the Village for Veronica, then headed up to the city for some grub at the always scrumptious Pomelo. We then relived the old days at Trad'r Sams with Danny, Gary, and Dionne and Matthew (who hauled ass up the 5 once they heard what we were up to). At 2am we returned to the Village, where we played some informal FIFA 2003 until 5:30am. At least, that was when i called it quits, but apparently Sean and Gary kept it going until 6:30am.

Our grand designs for Saturday were hindered by the fact that we all slept until 1pm. We had intended to go to the city, but after getting all of us showered it was 4pm. We then had to go grab the cakes for that evening's Gary and Veronica birthday party/Veronica and Ted housewarming party. And fill our distinctly unhappy bellies. So our plans to go shopping on the Haight were shelved. We did manage to squeeze in a quick viewing of Hong Kong cinema classic Shaolin Soccer during the party preparations, after which Sean, Matthew, and i absconded to the Hillsdale Mall to purchase FIFA 2004. The small but intimate gathering got going around 10pm, and shortly thereafter the aforementioned SMFA Cup tournament was begun.

Again on Sunday we dozed late and spent a while getting ready. Our preparations were not helped by the fact that i succeeded in corrupting Veronica's Entourage database, and had to spend a while figuring out what to do about it. Matthew and Dionne headed back down the 5 around 3pm, and Michelle, Sean, Veronica, and i finally headed off to the city around 4:30pm. We got in some shopping at Villains and Amoeba, plus we picked up some pizza at Escape From New York before speeding off down the 101 so the Tracys could make their 8:35pm flight back to LA. I couldn't talk Veronica into catching a showing of The Matrix Revolutions in Santa Clara, so we headed home (a bit lonely after the frenetic pace of the weekend). V promptly passed out, but i mustered up the energy to clean the house of the post-party mess.

Now i'm back at work, preparing for the Stanford Radiation Oncology retreat at the beginning of next month. V and i are off to the airport on Saturday to pick up Veronica's dog Cobi, arriving from Iowa. Any bets on how long it takes Veronica to goad Cobi into biting me? I say about three minutes.

she said meet me at the gates at 8, leave now don't be late she said one day she'd walk away 'cause i was always late thought things were ok, didn't care though anyway say "sorry babe, i had to meet a mate", tempting fate we first met through a shared view, she loved me and i did too it's now 7:50, getting ready, better be nifty do my hair quickly, step out it's cloudy mate bells me to borrow money, i got two henry's and a dealer to pay call up on geezers to rid these green trees of my reeking jeans got a you-think-i-care air outglaring geezers' stares i'm here and i'm there couldn't see past the end of my beer what was getting near all the silence after the cheers i didn't know that it was over, 'til it was too late but if i ever needed you, would you be there? she said meet me at the gates, don't be late but pretty soon the day came for change and i was glad she never walked away so i'm choosing what to wear, doing my hair with an hour to spare when my life went pear she'd been there with a thick stare big wheel climbed to the top, geezer stares bounced off standing at the top of this huge mountain, smiling and shouting, spring flowers sprouting not one inch of doubt in my mind as i reached the gates came round the corner at a rate risked her love but i'm gonna set things straight never again am i gonna be late never again am i gonna be late never again am i gonna be late i didn't know that it was over, 'til it was too late but if i ever needed you, would you be there? i said meet me at the gates, leave now don't be late i waited for a while listening to her voicemail, mind set sail then the facts turned me pale, wind rain and hail my fears unveiled, for my fair female she'd walked away, too little too late i step up the pace, walk past the gates rain runs over my face, spirit falls from grace i purchase a hazy escape at the alcohol place in the chase sat down, got a fat frown weeping and drowning my senses for this love game's expensive walk in a trance, got a wounded soldier stance the everyday geezers stares throw me off balance now nothing holds significance and nothing holds relevance 'cause the only thing i can see is her elegance

As part of the festivities for Veronica and Gary's birthday party/Veronica and Ted's housewarming party (more on that later), the first annual San Mateo Football Association (SMFA) Cup was held. The name of this competition may be improved upon shortly, but as we were congregating in south SM, the SMFA is it for now. Contestants Gary, Matthew, Sean, and myself did battle on newly-acquired FIFA 2004 on the Xbox. The format was a round-robin season where every contestant played every other contestant both at home and away. This generated the seedings for a season-ending single-elimination showdown for the coveted SMFA Cup.

After twelve matches, we arrived at 4:30am with the table looking like this:

		OVERALL							HOME						AWAY
		P	W	L	D	F	A		W	L	D	F	A		W	L	D	F	A		Pts		GD
Chelsea		6	4	0	2	10	1		1	0	2	2	0		3	0	0	8	1		14		9
Manchester United		6	1	1	4	5	3		0	1	2	1	2		1	0	2	4	1		7		2
Manchester City		6	1	3	2	2	9		1	2	0	2	7		0	1	2	0	2		5		-7
Middlesbrough		6	0	2	4	1	5		0	1	2	1	3		0	1	2	0	2		4		-4

Matthew and Middlesbrough rightfully earned the prize for the worst disciplinary record (three red cards). The season was not without controversy. In the Chelsea/Manchester United top-of-the-table showdown, Sean was bizarrely denied a clear penalty. I took it upon myself to score an own-goal to rectify the situation, however Sean clearly wasn't keen on my charity.

We then proceeded onto the SMFA Cup tourney. The full bracket ...

Chelsea (1)	4						1	Manchester United (2)
		Chelsea (1)	1		0	Manchester United (2)
Middlesbrough (4)	1						0	Manchester City (3)

In the third place match held at 5:15am, Gary and Manchester City defeated Boro 2-nil. Then we all collapsed into a deep slumber. A good time for all, and hopefully the first instance of a long-standing and heated rivalry.

Am i the only one who thinks that the "special extended mix" (a.k.a. "fast version") of Alphaville's "Forever Young" is at least as good as the version played ad nauseum at high school dances?

There is no other active band that can make me cry/gives me the shivers more consistently than Coldplay. I better never make a mix CD (no matter how tempting it might be) that has "Everything's Not Lost", "Clocks", "Green Eyes", and "Amsterdam" back to back, or i might irretrievably lose coherence. Veronica, Danny, Gary, and i went to SF last Monday to see a screening of their new live DVD Live 2003. I agreed to wait for Danny while Gary and V went in to get seats. I was on the other side of the theater from where a huge line had amassed for the sneak preview of The Matrix Revolutions. Danny arrived shortly thereafter and we went inside. We meandered into what we though was the theater, past a security desk with two disinterested looking guards. Inside we couldn't find Gary and Veronica, so i called Gary and told him to stand up. He responded that if we couldn't see them, we weren't in the right theater. I thought there were a few too many gang bangers for a Coldplay film, and then realized we were in the Matrix screening. Tempted as i was to stay, Danny and i corrected our error. The Coldplay concert footage in the film is okay, although it appears to have been edited together with the intent of showing the concert as seen by an epileptic in the front row. Very choppy, and some camera angles are arty to the point of silliness (who needs ten seconds of the guitarist's elbow?). I also realized about halfway through that Chris Martin bears a striking (no pun intended) resemblance to Arsenal and France forward Thierry Henry. All said and done, the movie made me realize again how much i love Coldplay, even with their current overexposure. Like U2 in many ways, not least of which is the progression of Coldplay's sound towards that of The Unforgettable Fire and The Joshua Tree.

Speaking of football, the day after the Coldplay film i was again on edge as Chelsea took the field in Rome for another Champion's League match against Lazio. I had worn my Marcel Desailly kit the night before in support, and was ready for another titilating afternoon of reading the live commentary. However, fifteen minutes before kickoff my boss told me we had a director from Varian coming to discuss PET/CT, and asked me to go to lunch with the two of them. Couldn't really say "Sorry, i've got a football match to follow", so i emailed fellow Chelsea devotee Michael and told him it was up to him to keep up the spirit. After a taco salad and some interesting conversation about scanners, i returned to my office to find my Outlook inbox as shown. The Blues managed to put 4 past Lazio this time, and as Soccernet gushed, truly announced themselves as a force in European football. Damien Duff is my new hero. Clearly the most productive of the crop of new signings, he has proved consistently dangerous when allowed to roam behind the strikers. I previously announced that with Gianfranco Zola's departure, the role of the inspirational heart of Chelsea was up for grabs, and Duff appears to have pounced on it. Coincidentally, Zola was in Rome for the match, and was pulled onto the pitch by a jubilant John Terry after the final whistle, to the joy of the travelling supporters. Frank Lampard is also coming into his own, and Claude Makelele brings the toughness to an already rigid defense. Seba? The jury's still out. But things are looking bright for my boys.

Why is it that as you approach the end of an unpleasant period (more than a week) in your life, your patience for that unpleasantness begins to dwindle until for the last hour or two you make the Grinch look like Mother Teresa?