Tuesday, June 13, 2006

This and that

I’m easily confused these days. Don’t know why, just am.

For one, I’m confused about why someone would take another blog to task for mentioning rumors about Albert Pujols, when that same blogger suggested earlier that it was in Pujols' best interest to be investigated, in order to be proven clean.

Here's a novel idea. Why doesn't Pujols just come forward, say he's clean, offer up one of those monster veins on his monster forearms, and go ahead and be tested for HGH and be done with it? While detractors might say that the lack of a substantive test would prove nothing in the face of a negative result, I think the gesture would speak volumes.

Just sayin'.

* * * * *

Watched Roger Clemens' outing with the Corpus Christi Hooks on Sunday night. He looked strong and precise in his pitching. But you know what? I think Rocket is depressed. Maybe he hasn't fully grieved his mother's death, maybe he sees his future after baseball on the horizon and isn't very keen, I don't know. But he doesn't seem the same to me. The fire in his eye isn't there, and the flat affect, downcast posture, and the very effort that it takes him to walk from the mound to the dugout strongly suggest someone who has seen more cheerful days. Added to his lack of enthusiasm at his press conference to announce his signing, I'm finding it all a little concerning. He did seem to enjoy his time playing with Koby for the Legends the week before.

Hope the mental game comes along as well as the physical seems to be.

* * * * *

Had a lovely time at the ballpark over the weekend, for the most part. Although, it did seem that most of the scoring (including the Astros' only scoring on Saturday) occurred while I was in the ladies' room. What's up with that? I have reasonable urinary capacity, it's not like I spent the whole game in there or anything (although, I would be willing to entertain the notion if it means more wins--hee!). Sheesh. And also, I do have to say that I'm not really liking my seats this year. They're not that much closer to the action for better visibility, and the foul pole now obstructs my view of the video screen. I can deal with that. But I think the worst part is that the crowd around me this year is kind of, well, dudley (not a word, I don't care). I mean, they just SIT there, they don't seem to know any of the players nor care about the game. The most enthusiastic they seem to get is when the "wave" is going around the stadium. Ick. I mean, what's the point? Freakin' stay home.

* * * * *

A final, non-baseball note. Okay, I totally got squicked out today.

One of my patients had a TICK in his ear. Yes, a live one. One that didn't want to relinquish its hold on the skin.


It wasn't like this was a trauma, in which someone's not really planning to have surgery that day (that'll be my luck--have the MVA on the way home from spinning class at the gym on a post-call day when I decided not to shower first and haven't shaved my legs in three days--no doubt people will question my hygiene at that point). But this was a SCHEDULED procedure. I've mentioned before that I consider it imperative to clean your navel, but seriously?

Go for the flea and tick shampoo if necessary.



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