Hey, so, let's get something down here.

It's almost Go time, which is to say that, eight hours from now, I'll be boarding a plan to Chicago to Minneapolis. That's pretty exciting. I know where I'm going. I'm not packed, but I can be fairly quickly. I will be shortly after this is written. Also, my alarm is currently set for 4 a.m., based on the theory that there's an ever-so-slight chance that I'll somehow manage to fall asleep before being properly packed.

The alarm's loud, and currently rouses me with Belle & Sebastian's "It Could Have Been A Brilliant Career." I've determined that The Boy With The Arab Strap is a fantastic morning record.

Let's write briefly about songs that have been my wake-up song over time.

Among them:
Sophomore year, also senior year: "Will My Feet Still Carry Me Home?" from Elf Power's A Dream In Sound

Various times during junior year:
The Beach Boys' "Wouldn't It Be Nice?"
Lucinda Williams "Right In Time"

Honestly, that might've been it. Gurs probably knows.

I don't know from, say, 2002 through 2006. At various times, though, I've used The Jayhawks' "Blue," not because I like starting the morning with the lyric, "Where have all my friennnnddds gone? They've all disappeared," but because I like twangy harmonies.

However, last summer, which is to say, summer 2006, I stood firm on The Strokes "Is This It." Only recently, say, in August 2007, did I switch briefly to The Webb Brothers' "All The Cocaine In The World," which is an odd, odd choice, but was cool because of the cooley-high harmony. Currently, it's "It Could Have Been a Brilliant Career." I'd imagine my upstairs neighbor really likes that album.

I recall sleeping through the entirety of Uncle Tupelo's Still Feel Gone record during reading week of Fall Quarter 1998. That's some kind of accomplishment.

Back to the matter at hand...
The Twin Cities will be totally boss. I'll have a recap, probably never, but perhaps sometime next week. I'd anticipate that I'll nap briefly on Thursday morning, then wander through Bright New Minneapolis. Upon Gurs' return home, we'll go see The Hold Steady. Anything after that, really, is just gravy...

Also, there'll be a Friday night Cookie sighting, whether in the out-out-outlying suburbs, or in the less outlying suburbs, or perhaps in the city proper.

There'll be a Cats-game viewing on Saturday, joined by Pam Ward.

There'll be a flight home Sunday, presumably way too soon. I think I'll be able to comfortably sleep for the duration of all four scheduled flights.

I've got tuna salad that I prepared on Sunday night, October 28, sealed in an airtight container. Do you think it will be good come Sunday night, November 4? Or, more importantly, Monday afternoon, November 5? Because my long-term health depends on it.

I plan to pack just one pair of pants. I'll wear the other pair of pants. I don't think I'll have to check any bags, and I think it's always easier that way. Perhaps this will be infeasible, as I'm on what I figure to be a fairly high-traffic flight home, the popular Minneapolis to Chicago Sunday-at-4:30 timeslot.

- - - - - -

Because I can, Big Ten stuff.

The Cats could have won and, though they allowed 35 points, last Saturday may have been their finest defensive performance of the year. They bottled up a good Purdue team for significant chunks of game time, only wearing down when their offense couldn't collect a single first down in the fourth quarter.

CJ Bacher's an odd quarterback. He couldn't hit the target to save his life in the fourth quarter, and yet he led a few really beautiful drives as well. When he's good (and, importantly, when Garrick McGee's in a playcalling rhythm), he's as good as anybody in the conference.

One thing worth noting: Tyrell Sutton is back, and Tyrell Sutton is a much, much, much better player than Omar Conteh. Sutton's just so damn fast.

Anyway, I like the Cats to get a win on Saturday, which would put them bowl-eligible with two more to play. Six wins far from guarantees the Cats a bowl bid, as every Big Ten team but Minnesota will likely gain bowl eligibility this year. I think that playing a December game is very, very important for the development of Northwestern's program. Well, probably just slightly important.

Big Ten power rankings:

1) Ohio State (1st last week, 1st tier of teams)

2) Michigan (2-2)
3) Penn State (3-2)

4) Illinois (4-3)
5) Wisconsin (6-3)
6) Purdue (5-3)

7) Indiana (8-3)
8) Iowa (9-3)
9) Northwestern (10-4)
10) Michigan State (7-3)
11) Minnesota (11-4)

Obviously, the transitive property can't work within a conference alignment for things such as this, but I think that the top six have separated from the bottom five. You'll see that I've moved Indiana, Iowa, and Michigan State all to the bottom tier, with returners NU and Minnesota. I'm not sure, but I don't think a team in the bottom five has defeated a team in the top six, though I might be wrong. Michigan State plummets because, well, that's what they did under B.Williams, and that's what they did under J.L.Smith, and that may be what they do under M.Dantonio.

- - - - - - -

Today was Enforced Fun Day at work, which meant semi-mandatory participation Halloween costume contest. Laid back!

I took the challenge, and went as Kurt Cobain on the iconic 1992 cover of Rolling Stone magazine. A bit esoteric, but not so esoteric that nobody got it. Only, perhaps, three people were familiar with the totally awesome "Corporate Magazines Still Suck," image, but most people were able to figure out the whole "tattered sweater-looking shirt, blond mop wig, torn jeans" look. I definitely ripped up the knees of a pair of generally-unused blue jeans for the part. I mean, who has use for blue blue jeans? Not me, really. Certainly not me anymore.

Total outlay for the project was approximately 14 dollars, as I did invest in two shirts and a pair of sunglasses from Goodwill (one that I ended up using successfully slicing apart and using, and one that'll move into the rotation - turns out, they've got some goooood shit at Goodwill...more plaid shirts than you can shake a stick at, dudes), a thick-tipped Sharpie for shirt-scrawling purposes, and a platinum blond wig that I properly mangled and that was, at this time of the season, also half-price.

There is some level of photographic evidence. I don't currently own this photographic evidence. Perhaps I'll provide it here at a later date.

Upon entry in the building this morning, I was in full costume. I was wearing sunglasses. It was dark. I was quite confused. Someone said, "Nice wig." I thanked her. Later, I considered it odd that this person would say, "Nice wig," as if the wig were the only thing different about me. Accordingly, I eventually confronted her, jokingly: "When you said, 'Nice Wig,' my only thought was, You're only noticing the wig? Because, apparently, this [gesturing to shirt] looks approximately like something I'd wear, doesn't it? This joke fell flat, apparently, as, two hours later, as it was time to depart, this person rapidly approached me, agologetically: "I could tell right away you were Kurt Cobain. It's really good." The joke wasn't funny. It also wasn't really a joke. This vignette went nowhere.

It was my first time dressing up since 2003. I was way cooler then, as I was Joe Borowski.

So, I make fun of Enforced Fun Day, but it was kind of fun.

Among the highlights:
An iPod Silhouette, though he had a Walkman sports radio strapped to his arm
Shrek
Two people dressed as our current company mascot
A murderous doctor
At least two lame tech-geek in-jokes
Someone inexplicably in gold hot pants
"Prison Bitch"
An Oompa Loompa

I would estimate approximately 60-75 percent participation, which is pretty strong. Most everybody spent the day at least somewhat uncomfortable, I'd imagine. Lots of facepaint.

I won no prize, sadly.

Notably, my scissored-apart brown sweatshirt will be easily repurpose-able as Moses or Jesus for next year. I'll just need pants. That makes things easier.

- - - - - -

My sister's writing again. She's here. Well, she's there.

Her return to blogging recounts her July 3rd tale of eating Chicago style hot dogs. It's pretty good.

- - - - - - -

Last week, I checked out quite a few records by The Smiths at the library. The Smiths aren't the hardest, you know, and I'm having a tough time figuring out why they're so revered. It's just pop music, it seems, but, then again, they did come before Belle & Sebastian, and they certainly came at a point when fey Brit-pop wasn't, you know, the thing.

I can safely determine that The Smiths aren't the right music to get me in the mood for a Saturday of bar-football watching.

I'm still trying to determine if I like The Smiths. My instinct is that I do.

Perhaps, malaise. That might be the best way to put it. A daze at work - maybe things are blending together after a year? No desire to follow up on the whole "kick ass on the GMAT thing" - what journey is left? Maybe the fact that the sunset is happening before 7 is just getting to me. But, anyway, I've been oddly odd in the last ten days or so, since my return from Chicago.

Example 1: The post-GMAT collape
I spent the post-test Friday tired-but-glowing, and was pretty much that way the rest of the (poorly-recollected, in the previous entry) weekend. I kind of figured that, last week, I'd not get much done to follow up on that success, and I'd be kind of okay with that; it'd been a grind for the previous month, and I had earned some time off. But I pretty much couldn't stay awake at all last week. Monday, I watched a movie with a friend, because I had to return it to another friend. Tuesday, I can't recall. Wednesday was dollar pints night. Thursday, I traded voicemails with my older brother, then fell asleep on my couch. Friday will be covered below.

Saturday, I spent largely on the couch - nothing. Sunday, largely on the couch - a little bit of an application, and it took half a bottle of wine to get me started. Hey, let's get drunk and apply to grad school! (Seriously, sadly.) Monday, largely on the couch - nothing. Now - well, this, instead of that.

Actually, that's the only example I have. Yesterday was pretty depressing when, as I returned (quite sweatily, I should add) from a pretty good apartment complex treadmill workout, around 7, it was dark. That's not supposed to happen here, yet. Or, anyway, it seems like it shouldn't happen. (A bit of decade-old research on the region indicates that my hypothesis that maybe the pace at which the sunset gets earlier actually does quicken as you get closer to winter is clearly wrong, but it sure seems that way.) But it has, and I need every light on in the apartment as I write at 8:30.

So I guess that's another example.

But, anyway, I was just lethargic, for the last week. Maybe it's some sort of pre-winter depression. Maybe I should hibernate. Hibernation is so cool.

- - - - - - - -

So let's talk about the weekend, or actually, just Saturday. On Wednesday, I decided that, on Saturday, I would do a two-hour run. Why? I'm not quite sure. It just seemed like a cool idea. Well, I prepared a two-hour iPod mix (though I should've focused more on the classics and less on recent acquisitions) to be played on random, and I just went, and went, and went, though not for two hours. My goal was 13 miles in two hours, about a 9:15 pace. At about Mile 7, I decided I'd stop after 10 miles, instead. And the net was 94 minutes, 52 seconds, for just over ten miles. It was kind of cool, and pretty exhausting and, because I hadn't brought my wallet along, I had to pay in quarters when I bought a post-run Powerade at the nearest gas station. "You look like you've been out and about today," the clerk exclaimed. "The important thing is that I'm not dead," I replied, presumably (accidentally) dripping sweat on her hands, and her countertop, and her countertop lighters. I then enjoyed the sweet, sweet taste of Grape-flavored sports beverage.

I believe, post-shower, I spent the rest of the day on the couch. I ate lots of cookies, and perhaps some popcorn, and, at about 11, made the semi-conscious decision to blow off a friend in town for the weekend-plus. I feel bad about it, but also okay about it. (But the fact that I feel okay about it may be indicative of a malaise, perhaps?)

You see, we had worked together my first summer up here.

(It's amazing, but it's now "my first summer," as I've lived through "my second summer." I'm not sure when I'll start referring to "this past summer" as "last summer" - I'm the type that won't call Summer '07 "last summer" until about February, I don't think. That way, "this summer" is already near-imminent, at least in some parts of the country. Here, in February, it's four full months away, at least. Sigh.)

There were perhaps four instances of hanging out between last summer and when she left town, I believe in March. Since then, I'd imagine there's been one phone conversation - April, likely - another message, perhaps, and sparing ecommunication. Which is to say, not much. We're mutually low-priority, it seems.

So she called - the plan had roughly been for her to call Saturday, though she was hanging out with the smaller, higher-priority group earlier. I would be among the "join us at the bar - we'll catch up then!" portion of the evening. I was pretty interested in Illinois-Michigan, and didn't pick up - I was probably entranced by a Juice overthrow. I called back and got voicemail, fired of a "what's doin'?" text message, and got nothing back. So I watched American Beauty.

No contact Sunday, traded texts yesterday, and a decision by her to get to bed to ensure wake-up in time for her 6 a.m. flight rather than to meet at the redneck bar tonight.

Do I feel bad about missing the hangout time? I don't know - the game was pretty entertaining, and American Beauty was pretty good and, realistically, would a semi-drunken evening of catch-up with people I don't see anymore and people I may not see again have been better than what I eventually wound up doing? Probably, but not that much better, and I would've had to pay for beer.

So that was Saturday.

- - - - - -

Let's talk, only briefly, about Friday. Friday was Cats-EMU, and it was miserable. Thankfully, I got to watch it at a friend's house.

You see, the first weekend of the season, I had previously-scheduled plans to hang out with this friend. This friend likes soccer a lot. I think we watched an MLS game, because he likes soccer that much. But mostly we drank and made conversation, because those are my two greatest skills. That day, both of us received communication from our cable company, telling us that ESPNU would be added to the Sports Tier. I don't have the Sports Tier. He does, due to the soccer channels. I said, "Does this mean you'll be getting ESPNU?" He said, "Yeah, I think so." I said, on September 3, maybe, "What are you doing on Friday, October 19?" "Not sure." "Wanna watch Northwestern-Eastern Michigan on ESPNU?" And so, officially, plans were made.

Man, that was an awful, awful game to watch. But there's no such thing as a bad win, and it's pretty cool to be 5-3, even though it should be 6-2 (or, perhaps, Mr. Purple-Colored glasses, 3-5).

Purdue's winnable, but more likely losable. I'll stand by my preseason picks of Purdue - Loss, Iowa - Win, Indiana - Win, Illinois - loss. That's 7-5, which is not the 8-4 I'm hoping for, but is pretty good. Of course, all of these are eminently losable.

Let's rank the conference (and, yes, I'll believe that Iowa is better than NU until NU beats them. For the record, neither team is that good, or any good, perhaps):

1) Ohio State (1 last week, Tier 1)

2) Michigan (2, 2)
3) Penn State (3, 2)

4) Purdue (5, 3)
5) Illinois (4, 3)
6) Wisconsin (6, 3)
7) Michigan State (7, 3)
8) Indiana (8, 3)

9) Iowa (9, 3)
10) Northwestern (10, 4)
11) Minnesota (11, 4)

- - - - - -

For the record, college football is about the greatest thing in the world. Mostly because of Tim Tebow and game-ending LSU touchdown passes and this cool fake fumble that Colorado ran in their win over Kansas and the fact that Kansas' coach is so damn fat.

Besides the obvious, and accurate, "college football doesn't need a playoff because every week is a playoff" (and, anyway, you're telling me that Alabama or Kentucky or Michigan or USC could be left out of a playoff, as if they wouldn't have a chance to win a 16-team tournament?) argument, here's this:

We all know that the best day of sports, period, is the first day of the NCAA tournament. Anti-climactic, without fail, is that Monday championship game. Why would we ruin what is still one of the most entertaining days in sports, New Year's Day, by making it "just another day" in the tournament. If there weren't a conference champ in the Rose Bowl, would it really be the Rose Bowl? Nope, it would suck.

Pam Ward tossed in some out-of-nowhere comment about needing a playoff on Saturday, and I just hate this concept. That's all.

- - - - - - - - -

There's this anecdote I've been meaning to record here, because it was just so funny. So, finally.

We've got music at the office. Usually, some sort of adult alternative, which means that it was cool in the 80s or in the early 90s or is Regina Spektor or the Old 97s. For some reason, mid-September, we played a day of disco and cheesy R&B and soul, and I don't know why. Post-volleyball, we were predictably excited and giddy - after all, sunny and beautiful in September. I grabbed my apple from the fridge, washed my hands, and returned to work. My deskmate did roughly the same. He's gay. On the speakers, we got Donna Summer's "Last Dance" and, immediately, he said, "Oh, God, I used to roller skate to this song in my basement." Predictably, I laughed, quite a bit. "I'm a walking cliche," he said, and then we laughed for another 20 minutes.

Oh, those gay people. They're just so gay. Ha!

It was amazing.

- - - -

So, I talked to my sister on Thursday. Awesomely, my sister's added photos to her blog and has, more importantly, also started writing again. Or, wrote one thing, that was a month old.

Probably the best part of the conversation was when she recommended that I make homemade macaroni & cheese, which I did, to great success, on Thursday night. The second-best part of the conversation was when she detailed just how she had become such a cold-blooded mouse-killer. Very impressive.

That girl's got a lot of joy in her, and it's awesome when it's all bubbling out. She had been in Krakow for a few days, and it was very clearly bubbling out on Thursday late-night. I hope it was bubbling out, and I'm sure it was, when she was in the English-speaking countryside pondering her M.F.A. possibilities, or the UK equivalent, anyway. I hope she takes all necessary steps to allow it to continue to bubble out for however long she hangs out overseas.

Also, Skype is awesome.

- - - - - -

I'm kind of over my youthful "Guided by Voices is the greatest thing to ever happen to the world" phase, though they're still my favorite band. There nowhere close to the band I listen to most (right now, that's probably Band of Horses, or R.E.M.; I'd probably not listened to GbV in full-length album form since at least June when I put on Universal Truths And Cycles on Sunday night), but I get more joy out of "Goldheart Mountaintop Queen Directory" and "Pendulum" and "Over the Neptune" and "Chasing Heather Crazy" and "The Best of Jill Hives" and "Crocker's Favorite Song" and "Eureka Signs" (I'm hitting early and late, 'hits' and 'non-hits') and "My Son Cool" and "Non-Absorbing" than I do out of most every piece of pop music.

So, anyway, it was totally cool Monday night when, on How I Met Your Mother, they played the entire first verse and chorus of "I Am A Scientist," right until they faded at "I am a pharmacist / prescriptions I will fill you."

It was amazing, and left me giddy.

And, for the record, I really enjoy watching How I Met Your Mother. It's not appointment viewing, but it's on if I'm home.

- - - - -

I really like writing here. Malaise lifted, slightly.

Last week was one of the most exhausting, stressful weeks of my life, to be honest. Maybe I brought it upon myself, because I chose to take the GMAT the same week I chose to head home (well, the weekend chose me, as I do live in the most remote corner of the universe, it seems, sometimes), but, man, it kind of sucked. I was pretty exhausted. I had accidental couch sleep Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday nights. I had an hour-long catnap turn into a five-hour, 7:45 to 1:00 a.m. marathon on Wednesday (and then I spent three hours cleaning and packing and studying, more), and I was completely exhausted when I finally got back to the 'burbs Thursday night, when I arrived at roughly 9:30 and excused myself to crash by 10:15.

Point is, it really was worth it.

I had a fantastic weekend. I kicked ass on the GMAT. I was elated to the point that I immediately called The Boy (whose ass I kicked, not really, though), and Nemo, who was depressed for me when I anticipated my struggles, and a friend from the Ring Fingernail who dealt with me whining about how stressed I was last week. I got to spend quality time with Deedz and Jenny. I got to see Sumo, quite a bit. I got to take what I assume to be fantastic photos in front of E2's back door. I got to see Gurs and Bullshot and the appropriate ancillaries (no offense to the ancillaries). I got to eat a cheesy brat and a cheeseburger and drink Old Style light for breakfast. I got to see a fantastic Wildcats win. (They're all fantastic wins.) I got to eat chocolate chip pancakes at Clarke's. I did this while Sumo ate his own mini-plate of pancakes. I got to see The Boy. I got to drink lots and lots of beer with The Boy. I managed to fall asleep before midnight, despite lots and lots of beer. I got to eat four kinds of meat at lunch with my parents during the Bears game. I made it home elated and exhausted and full of four kinds of meat with a carful of meat.

It was awesome.

To be honest, though, there's not much more worth covering.

- - - - - -

I'm really excited, because I've got a chance to get into Kellogg. I'm giving myself the week off from this crap - I've not even checked the site to look at Kellogg's application yet - but I've gone from "Oh, crap, I don't even know if I can get into any program worth anything and, even if I do, I don't know if I want to enter one," to "Holy crap, I might be good enough for Kellogg. And because it's about the greatest place in the world, all I want to do is get back to NU."

But, man, that's just another layer of stress.

- - - - -

I don't want to write so much more here. But I thought like I should write. I know that people hang on my every word.

- - - - -

Let's keep to the week-by-week trend and give you Big Ten power rankings. I'm watching the game at a friend's this week, because he has ESPNU. I'm hopeful it's an uninteresting game. I don't know that it will be. I've not gotten Nemo's take either.

Rankings:

1) Ohio State (Ranked 1 last week, Tier 1)

2) Michigan (5 - 3)
3) Penn State (6 - 3)

4) Illinois (3 - 2)
5) Purdue (2 - 2)
6) Wisconsin (4 - 2)
7) Michigan State (8 - 3)
8) Indiana (7 - 3)
9) Iowa (9 - 4)

10) Northwestern (10 - 4)
11) Minnesota (11 - 4)

The Big Ten's kind of terrible. There's one good team.

Let's get the Cubs out of the way, real quickly. I'm not angry or pissed off or anything; I'm mostly past being angry or pissed off about sports results (unless they're the result of utter and unadulterated stupidity, as that Duke loss for NU was.). I've come to the conclusion that these games are entertainment for me and, even if they Cubbies are terrible, they've still kept me relatively entertained for three hours. I mean, what else was I going to do, interact with others or something?

So, yeah, they were terrible. Embarrassingly terrible. Aramis was a waste of space, and that sixth-inning (fifth-inning?) bases-loaded double play was excruciating but, ultimately, expected. TBS came back from the double play and started showing clips of sad old women and sad young children, decades of experience contrasted with those who have no idea what they've gotten themselves into.

The Zambrano decision wasn't the sole reason for the loss but, gosh, doesn't it look stuid(er) now? Win the one in front of you, Lou. Would've been nice to need him for Game Four, eh?

The inability to hit with runners on base was just remarkable, just amazing. That's all.

What strikes me about Cubs games is the amount of #22 jerseys and jersey t's that you see everywhere at Wrigley. It's amazing to think of how much that guy (and Kerry, of course) took over the city in 2003. Kerry's going to be great next year; I'll happily looking forward to Kerry holding the lead in the seventh, Howry doing the same in the eighth, and Marmol allowing a solo homer in the ninth.

There's certainly reason for optimism next year, as everyone but Kendall should be back, it seems. Murton and Theriot and Hill should be a year better, and Lee should show some power all year. Ramirez probably can be expected to perform at the same level, as can Soriano. Z should be good, Lilly performed at about expectations. Marshall's a good-enough one. Howry's legit. Pie certainly figures to be a factor, and I'm not sure whether Jacque is gone or not. The status given to Geo-Soto will be interesting - is he the unequivocal starter, or is he splitting time with Hank White, or what, anyway? I see Eric Patterson joining the roster on an everyday basis, over Fontenot.

The key is, it's not like anybody performed far and away above their expected level; you can argue that their top two position players were worse than expected. (Maybe DeRosa was better than expected? Maybe Theriot? I don't think either were.)

So, hey, the Cubbies gave me six months worth of entertainment, and about an entire month where they were my lone source of joy (not really). I'll look forward to doing it again next year, and I'll continue the tradition started this year by starting it with Chicago style hot dogs.

- - - - - - - -

Meanwhile, the Cats played a fascinatingly entertaining game on Saturday, and got a victory out of it and everything. I've long since gotten over my "I'm from Chicago - I love defense, and defense alone!" thing, and there's nothing I love more than a shootout like that. (Well, I like 52-10 NU victories more, but I don't expect those.)

I had a great game-watching experience. I left work at about 11:30 Saturday morning (briefly, see below), and mentioned to a coworker that I'd be heading to a local bar to watch - another dollar PBRs while watching the Big Ten Network bar experience. Did he want to come? Sure, he said, to my surprise.

So I returned home, showered, headed to the bar, and sat down in my minibooth, about three plays in. I was, mid-second quarter, joined by my coworker, a 2007 college grad, and two of his friends, both MSU grads. I had come armed with my free Northwestern bucket hat, which is just sweet, and my non-rooting-interest-bearing coworker donned the purple and committed to the Cats.

Generally, conversation was good, game-related and non-game-related, and the game was fun (though EMU-Michigan was the game at the bar that got the sound) and, in the end, nobody was really pissed off even though, on a couple of occasions, I over-exuberantly yelled "C'mon Jeff!" or "Go Eric, go Eric!" or "Take 'em Omar!" It was in good fun, and it was good fun.

Let's Big Ten Power Ranking it, friends:

1) Ohio State (1 last week, Tier 1)

2) Purdue (2 - 2)
3) Illinois (7 - 3)
4) Wisconsin (3 - 2)

5) Michigan (5 - 2)
6) Penn State (6 - 2)
7) Indiana (8 - 3)
8) Michigan State (4 - 3)


9) Iowa (9 - 3)
10) Northwestern (11 - 4)
11) Minnesota (10 - 4)

Picks for this week:
NORTHWESTERN over Minnesota
MICHIGAN over Purdue
OHIO STATE over Kent State
Illinois over IOWA
WISCONSIN over Penn State
Indiana over MICHIGAN STATE

- - - - - - - -

I got a great call from Tina Saturday, though I was drinking sweet, sweet Ring Fingernail microbrews and chose not to pick up. (As a friend, I should have picked up and said, "Hey, I'm out, I'll catch up with you soon." Since I'm an ass, however, I ignored the call. Had I not ignored the call, I wouldn't have gotten the great message.) Her message, roughly: "Hey Rud. I'm excited about the Cats!, but sorry about the Cubs." So am I, Vuda-may, so am I.

- - - - - - -

Friday and Saturday were physically tiring, just about absolutely grueling, but mostly pretty awesome. Well, kind of awesome.

We moved offices, and we did it fairly efficiently. We had gutted our home of three years by about 9 am on Friday, and the trucks were completely empty at the new place by noon. Moving an entire office isn't so glamorous, but it's kind of nice to have a part of, in some way.

We weren't completely efficient, and there was often leadership and organization lacking, but we did our best to keep standing around at a minimum.

We were out by just after 5 on Friday (well, I was out by just after 5 on Friday, as were several others), and, after being told to expect "be here all day Saturday," we were done by 11:30. I was sore, but satisfied.

I scrubbed lots and lots of windows and windowsills, and moved some more desks, and plugged in some computers.

Anyway, I wasn't so looking forward to Friday and Saturday, fired up because of the inefficiencies and the whole, "Um, yeah, Peter, I'm gonna need you to come in on Saaaturday" aspect of the whole thing, but, hey, moving a thriving business is a pretty good experience.

- - - - - - - - -

I did some practice test-taking after moving day on Friday night, and failed miserably. I accounted for this by blaming physical fatigue and the fact that I haven't done anything for four hours straight in forever. I did some more practice test-taking this afternoon, and failed, though less miserably. I blame the fact that this shit is hard.

I'm taking Monday night off - just working through some problem sets, then will take another one on Tuesday. The hope is that I'll be done failing by test day on Friday.

Friday will also mark the start of a fantastic but as-yet-unplanned, from what I can tell, weekend. All that's in-stone is the Cats game, 11-3. Beer before, probably naps afterward. Departure from the 'burbs likely sometime Sunday afternoon, 3 or 4ish.

Gurs is in Friday night. Rico the same. I'm not sure on others. Not sure where I'm sleeping. Need to make plans with Deedz and Jenny. The Boy's there, too, but I don't know if that's feasible. But, dammit, it should be feasible. Maybe he's working in the 'burbs Friday.

That's all on that. Should be excited, and I shouldn't get stressed over it - How am I gonna see everybody worth seeing - but I'm doing it just a bit.

And I get 20 more minutes of sleep tomorrow morning.

- - - - - - -

The Packers have a player named Atari. I wonder how his father, Pong, and his siblings, Coleco,
Commodore 64, Nintendo, and PS2 are doing.

Devin Hester is in a Chunky Soup commercial. What's funny is that the fastest guy in the NFL kind of has chubby cheeks.

I have trouble with the math that dictates that there are not 30 NFL-competent quarterbacks in the world. It seems like, if there were an extra, the Bears would have found him.

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Please discover a new link at left. The headline's in Polish, and it's from my sister's friend Sarah. She's smarter than you, clearly. You've probably never met her, I'd imagine. She's in Poland now, on the guv'ment's dime.

- - - - - - -

That's all I've got.

It's the middle of the fifth inning, and Doug Davis just drove home Justin Upton - on a freakin' "safety squeeze" (I put it in quotes because I strongly don't believe it's a play) - and the Cubs are down 8-2, and the Cubs are done, and it's 12:30, and I'm going to watch 90 more minutes of this junk. So I'll write, but just briefly.

First, is it too much to ask Michael Wuertz to field his position? I mean, a freakin' safety squeeze, in which there wasn't even a play at the plate. It wasn't even close.

Alfonso Soriano lines a single off the wall to lead off the fifth inning. A single! Eric Byrnes predictably missed the bag by 40 feet, and Fonzy's standing at first. And this after his first actual contact of the series. What a waste.

I think D-Lee popped out on a 2-0 count, and then Aramis swung at ball four and then ball five. Waste a leadoff "double" with a lineout, a popout, and that awful Aramis strikeout.

Doug Davis is terrible, for the record. Mid-80s fastball, 70 mph curve, and nothing. And the Cubs are making him look like...Jamie Moyer. (I mean, he's a soft-throwing lefty, and he's dominating. Soft-throwing lefties suck, so it's tough to find a dominant one to compare him to, you know?)

I guess Flax said that the Cubs struggle with soft-throwing lefties, which I guess just mean they struggle with pitchers who suck.

This is frustrating as hell and, honestly, it's more frustrating because Dick Stockton clearly hasn't watched a Major League Baseball game since the mid-1950s. Myriad errors from the booth. He said "the runners will be going" with runners at first and third. He said "it's obvious what Davis is doing here" in advance of the squeeze, though he didn't actually acknowledge the runner at third and the potential strategy there - it's like, similar to Michael Wuertz, he had no freakin' idea what the situation was. During game one, he referred to Kendall being acquired "in the Michael Barrett deal," which, of course, was three starting catchers prior to Kendall's acquisition. He said the Cubs probably prefer Theriot to Jones in the two-hole, when Jones has been there for a month against righties, and is only down in the lineup because he's starting against the lefty (and Theriot, though we love him, hasn't hit since July).

Let's address the Zambrano thing. It's indefensible, and there's no way around it. It was indefensible the moment the decision was made. If you're playing for the fourth game while it's a a 1-1 tie in the sixth inning of the first game, you're making a grave mistake. (The D-Backs played for the fourth game in the bottom of the inning, then leading 3-1, and that makes sense. They were comfortably on top, based on the Cubs' inability to hit.) If you're not confident that your starting pitcher can throw 100 pitches - low-stress pitches, to be sure, as he had only allowed four baserunners - and come back on three days' rest, then you shouldn't be considering using him on three days' rest.

The real frustrating thing here is that the Cubs have, let's say, the second-best starting pitcher in the NL playoffs (Webb's the best; I don't think Jeff Francis or Cole Hamels are better than Z, at least yet) . The Phillies are a highly-talented but highly-flawed team (Flaw: They can't pitch.) The Rockies have Holliday and Tulowitzki and a bunch of schlubs, and the D-Backs clearly suck. (They're a collection of young talent, but they're two years away from being a good team; they're smoke-and-mirrors right now and, here they are, handing the Cubs their collective asses.)

So, the fact is, nobody in the NL is any good. The pennant's there for the taking. And yet, it'll be the freakin' Rockies and the freakin' D-Backs for the right to go to the series.

(Combined years of existence: 26, I think. Years since the Cubs have been to there: 62.)

Being a Cubs fan has never made me miserable until, say, this exact moment.

God fucking dammit.

(Ward just drove in two with a double to center. I'll watch again. Let's do this.)