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?