Really, American History Museum?

The National Museum of American History is reopened, and this afternoon I went to check it out. Disclaimer: I only had about an hour, so not too much checking. First thing I did: checked out the Gettysburg Address, which is on display until the end of the year. I'll admit it, not too exciting. But it was there, I was there, we both had time to kill, and, well, you know how these things are. (A slightly amusing side note, this particular document hall was named for Albert Small. So it was the Albert Small Document Hall. I kept thinking of small documents -- okay it's not that amusing...) (tee-hee).

As the small document hall didn't take too long, continued to do some exploring, see what they did with the place. And they still have that awful statue of George Washington. What the hell is up with that? The least they could have (should have) done was gotten rid of the thing. Okay, actually, the least they could've done is move it into a far corner or covered it with a big blanket. But, no, there it is, all ugly and awful and embarrassing for poor George Washington. I don't know why, but I saw that statue, and I was instantly exhausted with the whole museum. 

In all fairness to the Museum, I know that they have to keep some things there because the tourists want to see the things they saw as kids (I'm talking about you, Fonzie's jacket). But wouldn't it be nice to surprise us now and again?

Hello kitty

Yes, we have a cat. Before that, we had two cats. I like having a pet and a cat makes more sense than a dog since we travel and work, etc. It's a furry, four-legged animal that we keep in the house. This does not make me a "cat person." This does not make me dislike dogs. And it most certainly does not make me want things with cats on them.

As soon as we got the cats, I started getting birthday cards with kitties on them. Calendars with cats, Christmas ornaments, little decorations, etc., all with cats. Really? Did I become that girl? Because I thought I just got a pet, not ideas for the gifts I will get for the rest of my life. And the cat stuff is especially bad. Pastel-ly, flowery nonsense. I don't understand how people who know me think that, because I have a cat, I suddenly like this sort of thing. 

No one has gotten me any "hello kitty" stuff, so that's something. Although some of that stuff is actually kind of cute. (A quick check of the "hello kitty" website has taught me that you can buy a "hello kitty" Flip camcorder! Awesome! You can also get diamond earrings that cost over $2000. Plus they're really ugly.)

So, with Christmas coming: no cat stuff. Thanks.

Open Houses

Today we did the open house frenzy. It's just overwhelming. I'm such a dork -- before we hit the road, I got our list together, found them on the map, listed the coordinates on the map for easy finding, so we could see as many houses as possible. Of course, after you see a few houses, they all start to blend together. And my energy level goes into the negative region.

It doesn't help that there are houses that look okay on-line are not-so-much when you see them in person. You're looking at it at home and it's like "ooh, look at the cute little thing!" and you get there and it's, "Hey, why doesn't this have a driveway?" In some ways this is a good thing. You pull up, you look, you say "no" and quickly move on. But then you panic that they will all be awful. 

One or two open houses are kind of fun -- a day of it is too much. They do tend to blend together. "Is that the single-guy's house or the one with the blue?" It always amazes me how people get "ready" to show their homes. Did you really thinking that little snake on the counter would help sell your house? Oh, don't bother cleaning up all those leaves; they add to the charm.

Anyway, after seeing a lot of houses, there's a part of me that is "a great house is out there" and a part that is "there's nothing but nightmares out there." I'm sure there will be some compromises, but I'm not ready to give up too much stuff yet. 

3 Weeks

Three weeks ago I packed up my car and moved down here. I can't believe it's only been 3 weeks. It amazes me how quickly I've kind of gotten used to it all. It's not that I feel that this is my life and the way it's always going to be. But it's become comfortable and routine; it's like I've gotten used to this weird hotel-like existence. 

I'm surprised that I haven't been bored yet. In fact, not even close. By the time I get home, make a phone call or 2, catch up on e-mail, blog (well, now), have some dinner, do some stuff around the house, well, that's a night. (I know, the excitement is killing you.) I'm doing a few things during the week like going out to dinner or running errands (usually those are weekend activities for me). Next week, I'm planning to go into DC twice!

I've settled into the job pretty quickly. It's a new therapeutic area, but I'm working on the types of documents I know, so I'm pretty comfortable overall. The group is delightfully ornery, so that keeps me happy. Give me some snark during a meeting, and you've got my attention. The projects are starting to pile up and soon I will be busy, busy, busy. And I'm actually looking forward to it. I hate waiting for things to do.

I've got to start getting at least a little bit serious about the house hunting. This existence can't last too long. House hunting just makes me tired. So, for now, I'll enjoy the walk to work, the minimal cleaning, this weird existence.

Walking the walk

One of the best things about where I'm living now is that I can walk to work. It's not the nicest walk, and it's not the best time of year, but I'm still enjoying it. Most of the walk is through parking lots, and I have to cross a fairly major road (luckily, there is a crosswalk with a walk/don't walk sign). I'm not thrilled that the walk home is in the dark, but I'm sure it's safe. At least no less safe than walking to and from my car would be.

It takes me about 15-20 minutes, which is almost too short. It's not exercise, so I really should do more than just this walk to work. But it's a nice amount of time to clear my head or listen to music. If it were much longer, I'd probably make excuses to not walk (it's too cold, it might rain, etc.) For now, I've walked to work almost every day since I started. 

I'm always surprised that other people are surprised I walk to work. It's not far and it probably takes almost as long as driving. Anyway, I get to listen to my ipod and get some fresh air. I'll enjoy it while I can.

Sticker shock!

In order to help sell our house, we are considering hiring people to "stage" the house. I know, hard to believe that's actually a job, but there you go. Anyway, they had come to the house a couple of weeks ago, taken a lot of pictures, and tonight they were ready for their presentation. (This is why we set up the iChat, if you're wondering.)

So, they walk us through their findings. First off, we have too much clutter. Really?! Yes, we know that. We're not putting the house up just yet. We know we need to clean our closets. You also may be surprised to hear that the litter boxes are not a good thing. Thanks. You are clearly an expert. Be sure you put that in your report. Anyway, they have a lot of suggestions which mostly fall into the categories "yeah, we meant to get to that" (Paint the garage, yep. New light fixtures, sure.) or clean up your shit (organize the linen closet, clean the windows, etc.) None of this is really a surprise.

So, what do they do to sell themselves as experts? Well, when you're ready to sell, they come in a day or two before you list and rearrange everything, add some decorations, that sort of thing. I will be the first to admit that this is not my strongest suit, so, okay, we need some like them for that. And they'll bring in some of their things, which, whatever. 

How much does all of this cost? If we sign up with them: $2900! No, I am not making that up. But, wait, there's more: if we use their stuff (which they basically said is going to happen), we have to pay extra to "rent" their stuff. Is there any guarantee that this will help sell our house? No. None at all. In fact, they get more money if you don't sell right away, because you are renting their stuff. 

Anyway, I'm a bit annoyed at the whole thing. Sure, I expected to pay more than I expected. But this is way more than I expected. Way more. To rearrange my furniture and tell me to clean my closets. For that kind of cash, you can do some cleaning. Or provide some vases without charging "rent". So, we definitely have to think about this.

On a side note: not having cable is resulting in me watching a lot of "Two and a Half Men." This is not helping my mood.

Adventures in iChat

So, we're trying to set up the iChat. First, you need an AIM account. Ugh. Off to the AIM site. Pick a name. Seriously, someone else has HiggyPiggie? And HiggyPiggy? It's a complete nonsense name that I starting using when I set up a fantasy sports team. And now someone else has it!? Jerk! Meanwhile, Mr. Higgy Piggie is going through the same thing. "I can't think of anything. This is stupid. What do you mean I can't start with a number? Why won't you take this name? Can't I have a period in there?"

So, I finally find a name to use. Now I got to fill out all the nonsense. I'm still listening to Mr. HP cuss as they keep rejecting his choices. ("What the hell is wrong with that one?!") I fill out the nonsense (or so I thought) and type in the crazy, blurry word. Error! Oh, I forgot one field. Type in the new annoying word. Error! ("Come on! That one's gotta work!" from Mr. HP.) Finally, I get it set up. Now onto the actual iChat program. Except it keeps kicking me to the website that advertises iChat. No! Meanwhile, Mr. HP has finally successfully picked a name and is now trying to register. "Is that a 9? Dammit! Another error?! I can't read that!" At this point, I'm hating technology. I tell Mr. HP to call me when it's all set up on his end and he can walk me through it.

I get a big glass of wine.

Mr. HP calls and has it set up. He walks me through the steps and, yay, we can see each other and hear each other. Unfortunately, my picture is up there as well (kind of picture-in-picture) and I realize that I blink a lot. Seriously, what is up with my eyebrows? It's hard to resist making faces. And rubbing my nose. So, I'm trying to figure out what the different buttons are and, of course, I hang it up. I don't remember Mr. HP's "name" and I can't figure out how to call him back, so I wait. And wait. And wait. Sigh. Phone call. Somehow, I had hit something and was "not available." Anyway, we get it working again. We "chat" a while, then it randomly hangs up. "No data." I have no idea. We connect again. We play with it a bit more. Yeah, I may have hung up on him a few more times.

So, I think we've got it working. We'll see tomorrow, when the realtor is meeting with us. I'm betting we have to go to the phone.

Sometimes I can be girly

I'm not a particularly girly girl, but I do have a strange obsession with make-up. I have no idea where it came from and why I love it so. And, yet, Sephora! I am not a shopper, but I cannot go past a Sephora and not stop in (and most likely buy something). It's really a problem.

The weird thing is that I wasn't one of those girls who wanted to wear make-up when I was 12 or one of those girls who had to hide make-up in my locker to put it on when I got to school. Around the time I started high school, my mom took me to one of those places that taught you how to actually use the stuff, and that was that. I don't remember asking if I could wear make-up. And, even though I love the stuff, I've never worn a lot of make-up (although, for full disclosure, I did go through an unfortunate blue eye shadow phase. It was the '80s, so it wasn't entirely my fault.)

I sort of blame Nana. I once told her that when I started making money, I would buy good make-up. When I got my first "real" job, she reminded me of this. (I think she just wanted the freebees that came with buying Estee Lauder or Clinque make-up.) It's not really her fault, but I think of her when I overspend. And I do like having an excuse to thinking of my Nana.

I have this great lace-covered train case full of make-up in my closet. It smells so good. Lip balms, perfume samples, eye shadows, powders, funny little brushes. And I have the most ridiculous stuff. False eyelashes, green glitter eye liner, white eye liner (I'm not even sure what that one's about), lip balm that changes color depending on "your mood." All very practical. Alan Moses does like my green glitter eye liner, though.

This is not my beautiful house!

Living in my apartment is a weird thing. There's this feeling of going back in time. Am I really back to apartment living? Am I back in grad school? It's one of those things that, once you live in a house, you think you'll always live in a house. That you'll always have all that space. Now it's all so compact. Of course, on the flip side, every time I get groceries, I've got to haul them up to the third floor.

Yes, this is a temporary arrangement. Hopefully no more than 6 months. But 6 months is still a pretty long time. I'm renting furniture, which only increases the weirdness factor. It's not my comfy bed, and it's more coordinated than I would go. And more brown. It's single-guy furniture. Not that that's a bad thing, but it's not me.

Anyway, it's better than it was when I first moved in. We've rearranged the furniture, and I've brought some stuff from home that has made it feel more like mine, as opposed to some weird hotel. I'm tempted to bring more things in, but everything that gets moved in has to be moved out, so I'm trying to resist those temptations. 

I have a loft and I'll be damned if I have any idea what to do with it. It seems like a good idea, but then there's this spiral staircase...

Too much stuff

So, I just read about this "100 things challenge". The idea is to trim your stuff to 100 things, and live on it for a year. There's a couple exceptions to the rule: underwear and socks each count as one thing, the 100 things are "personal" things (so I guess things like "bed" do not count), and the guy I've read about is keeping tools as "household" items. I guess it's his challenge, he can make the rules. It's still a crazy idea, trimming your life to 100 things.

Having just hauled a bunch of stuff down to a new apartment, I know I have too much stuff; I've got about 100 things on my coffee table alone (how do I have 2 notebooks on the table already?) My clothes alone, good God, the clothes I have. (So why am I stumped as to what to wear every morning when I'm getting ready for work?) And will someone please stop me the next time I go to buy another pair of shoes?

But looking at Dave Bruno's list (the guy who apparently started this), I certainly have opinions about his 100 things. Apparently his camera and the SD card count as 2 items. Really?! But his Mac is just one item (what about all the cords and adapters and stuff? Does software count? Because if my Word crashes, I need that case it came in with my serial number.) He's got 3 bibles on his list. (Three?! Insert offensive godless comment.) He's in San Diego, so no coats and only one sweater, which is sort of unfair to anyone who is doing this challenge and actually has seasons. 

Criticism aside, I suppose it is a good idea to try to trim down the amount of stuff I have. No, I don't need all those shoes (but they're so pretty). It'll probably even make my next move easier, if we approach from a completely selfish perspective. Maybe I should try to get rid of 100 things. That would be a good start.

On a completely unrelated note, I-95 in Delaware, you can bite my ass. 

A month late...

November is supposed to be "a post a day" month. As one can see, I have not been doing this. Not even close. Oh, the excuses I have... but, honestly, these are just excuses. Yes, I still have time to write silly notes to friends. Yes, I have time to buy useless crap that I don't need. But, somehow, no time to write. So, I am going to do a post a day for a month starting now.

(I now have this picture of Kramer when he made a vow of silence "starting...now!" Bangs leg, makes hurt noise. "Starting...now!") 

It has been an eventful time, not only with actual stuff, but with things in my head. New job, new place to live, stuff just happening. I'm still getting used to all of the change going on. It still seems like a break or a trip that I'm on, and soon I'll rejoin my real life. It's just a really weird conference. 

There are a lot of other new people of Medi, so at least there are people to talk to about the whole experience. It's always good to chat with someone who is going through the same thing. And it's very nice to talk to people who are a few months or more into the whole thing, and know that everything will work out to be okay. 

So, a post a day. Starting now. Good timing, with Christmas and all. But I'm going to try to do it. 

Birthday

Well, today is my birthday. I suppose we all get reflective on our birthdays. Was it a good year? Would I do things different? What about next year? Am I on the right track? It's like your own, personal New Year's Day. With cake!

It's been a busy year for me, mostly work-related. New bosses, new jobs, traveling, sick cat, soon-to-be moving. It's been a while since so much has happened in such a short period. A year ago, Cliff was in charge of my group, I was planning to work for Novo for the rest of my career. Now, I am moving and starting a new job next week, and Cliff, well, poor Cliff.

Overall, it was a good but stressful year. Not the best, but certainly not the worst. I've learned a bit about myself. I am doubting things about my life as it is currently, but I'm willing to try new things. I am trying to change my attitude towards life in general. More "yes", less hesitation. I suppose how successful this whole job change is will affect how long I keep up this attitude. I doubt if I'll be bored.

Dear idiots in the lobby

I was here first. And I ordered a drink. So stop knocking into my foot. And talking so damn loud. Yes, I'm the dumb ass who's on her computer in a bar, so I should expect some hardship. But you people are really pissing me off.

You clearly have some money and are adults. You should order something if you're taking up a corner of a bar. There's 12 of you and you're going to a show. Just order one drink. It is just not fair to the waitress. Yes, they charge too much, but it's not her fault. And stop stealing my munchies. Yeah, I'm not eating them, but I hate you. They're my munchies. If you ordered one drink, like you should, you would have your own.

And, honey, you are wearing way too much perfume. And, no, that top doesn't work.

I am not used to winning

The past couple of weeks have been weird for me. My guys have won. I can't get my mind around it. I am way too used to backing the loser and being able to shout, "Wait until next time! Then we'll get you!" And then I can feel sorry for myself. But now, my world is upside down.

First it was the Phils. The Phils!? Wait a minute, did they even break .500? They were in the play-offs? Really? When did that even happen? And then they actually win the World Series. I have lived in the Philadelphia area for 20 years and Philadelphia teams do not win world championships. Sorry. That's for other cities, cities I don't live near. 

Sure, we got close a few times. I went to the World Series in 1993. Very exciting, fun for us all, but the Phils lost. To Canadians. Sigh. I remember when the Flyers were in the Stanley Cup finals and the trophies were on display at 30th Street Station. (Yes, I stood in line with all the sports guys to ooh and aah at the pretty, pretty trophies). But they lost. As did the Sixers when they were in the finals and the Eagles did in the Super Bowl. It's not that we're used to it, it's expected. Seriously, we won something?

The legend is that once a building in Philadelphia was built taller than the William Penn statue on top of City Hall, no Philadelphia team would win a championship. And sure enough, that's what happened. So, a little over a year ago, they put a William Penn statue on top of the new Comcast building (which is now the tallest). And looked what happened! Which is kind of hilarious.

Sports are fun, but the election of a president, that's amazing! I'm still getting used to the fact that I actually voted for the guy who got elected! This is just very weird for me. I'm just so happy that we actually picked the smart ones! There's still a part of me that can't believe it. How did the US go from voting for such an idiot to Obama? I am so proud of the US!

A side note. My spellcheck still does not recognized Obama. But will correct it to Osama. 

Jammie pants for Obama

The other day, Bru and I were discussing that, with the non-stop campaigning, Barack and Michelle Obama probably have to be good-to-go at all times. That means all dressed up, make-up for Michelle, etc. No trips to the grocery store in sweats. No walks in ratty jeans and and old t-shirt. No bad hair days.

I'm sure everyone associated with this election is looking forward to Wednesday, and the chance to actually relax. To sleep in. To not wear a suit. And that's when Bru said that she wants to see Obama in jammie pants. 

Tomorrow I'm off to Chicago on election day. Very exciting. I was trying to get Bru to join me, so we could go down to Grant Park for the (cross fingers) celebration. She said we'd probably get arrested. For what? She's said, we'd shout out "Jammie pants for Obama!" The Secret Service would think it was some code, we'd be hauled away. She makes a good point.

Sorting through my Stuff

The days are ticking by and I am realizing that I don't have too much time until I've got to be down south. And I have a lot of stuff. Too much, most likely. Which, of course, makes me feel guilty and frivolous. Meanwhile, Mom's on the phone telling me not to get rid of anything until I run it past her (and my Dad's behind her grumbling that they need less stuff, not more and he better not be seeing any of my stuff coming their way.)

One of the issues I have is that I'm moving in stages. I'm first going down for a week and a half and staying in a hotel. Then to an apartment, and, eventually, to permanent digs. As I sort through things, I have to decide if it's worth keeping (which is the easy part). Then, I have to determine when I will need it. Will I need it in the future apartment? Can I put it away for an unknown amount of time? And if I can put it away that long, maybe I should get rid of it. 

Unfortunately, making these kind of choices has somewhat paralyzed me during this process. I head towards a closet, full of energy, ready to sort, dragging everything out. And then I start. Am I going to need this in the next few weeks? Next few months? Ever again? Sure, I haven't worn it in 6 months, but I kind of forgot about it. It's kind of cute. And I've lost a little weight since I last wore it... Of course, logic like that is why I have so much crap in the first place.

It's not just clothes. I've got plenty of other, well, just stuff. Notebooks, little stuffed animals, toys the kids may or may not ever be interested in playing with, keychains, computer stuff, resume paper (how quaint!), instruction books to things I may or may not still have around. Most of it is at least potentially useful, but I think it is the volume that's the issue. Having a notebook or two around is a good idea, but I probably have 20, in various sizes. Will I ever need 20 notebooks? How did this happen? (In all fairness, some of them were free, so that's a bit of an excuse.) And then there's the guilt of deciding to get rid of something that I bought years ago but never used. "But, it's brand new!" screams the voice in my head. So wasteful, but how many times can I move an unused item?

And my books. Good Lord, the volume of books I have around the house. It occurs to me that books are my primary clutter. I've got them scattered around the various rooms in the house, piles in the guest rooms, next to my bed, somewhat organized in the study, bags of them in the basement. It's a problem. I've done a pretty good job of keeping the textbooks down to a minimum (well, they're really heavy), but the other books... How do I get rid of my guide to France from 1994? I can't just get rid of books. It's so wrong. I need to know that they may be used by someone else.

Time to make some choices.  I'll still move too much, but I'll try to cut back.

Oh, it's somewhere...

Today I started to pack up the study and it occurs to me that I don't really respect my education. Don't get me wrong, I am proud of getting a PhD and it was probably the single hardest thing I've done. But the props of my education, I don't respect those.

My diploma from grad school is in a dusty envelope on top of a bookcase. I had lost track of it for about 5 years. After I found it, my mom asked to see it, and noticed that my name was misspelled. And I've been too lazy to bother to get a new one. The copies of my manuscripts are scattered in different drawers, some water-damaged, some just copies with missing pages. My college diploma is upstairs somewhere (I think).

I've always insisted that I went to grad school for me, that it was something I needed to do. I guess it must be true.

Changing my life

I have taken a new job in a new area of the country. I'm excited, scared, and a bit in a state of denial. My life is going to change, a lot. Of course, I am assuming it's for the better, that it will all be interesting and wonderful. Okay, that's what I hope, but I know there will be days I'll be thinking, "What the hell did I do?"

(When I was typing that last sentence, I was going to put "when I get home at night..." and I thought "home? For the next few months, what will be home? Back in PA? The apartment I'm renting?" And I may have freaked out a bit. Again.)

I've only done two major moves in my life: one when I was six and my move to Philadelphia 20 years ago. Of course, the move when I was six was just part of the whole growing-up gig, but the move to Philadelphia, well, that was a big one. My parents had moved a few months before. I finished the school year (I was teaching high school), packed up the apartment, and decided to give it a go out here. The trip out was a nightmare. My Civic was completely packed (my roommate cleared out a tunnel through my crap so that I would have some use of my rear-view mirror), it was 90+ degrees, I had no air conditioning. I cried pretty much the whole way. 

It's funny, but thinking back on it, I really didn't want to leave Toledo (I know, that simply can't be right.) But it was the only life I knew. All my friends, most of my relatives, all of my history, it was all in Toledo. And, yet, I knew leaving was absolutely the right thing to do. I can't say that there weren't times that I wanted to go back, but I had to leave. I had to seek the new life. And it was the single best thing I did. 

I sometimes wonder what I would have been if I would have stayed in Toledo. All I know is the best things about my life now are because I have left. There's a group of us from my old high school who left Toledo (sort of a weird fraternity), and we all talk about how the best decision of our life was getting the hell out. And when we go back, we look around and think, "There but the grace of God..."

So, my life is changing. I'm freaking out. But I'm choosing to believe that this will be the best thing.

Did it have to be Toledo?

Let's talk about poor Joe the Plumber. Let's say that Joe's business makes $250,000. Apparently there is no difference between what his business makes and what he makes. So, he makes $250,000/year. Let's do some math:

That's $20,833/month. This is the 33% tax bracket, which brings it down to $13,888. The Ohio tax rate at that income is 7.5% which means he pays out another $1563.

Take a minute and go to realtor.com and see what's available in Holland, Ohio. Let's say he lives in one of the more expensive houses (I've pick the one on 636 Anastasia Court for $274,900). That's another $1500/month.

According to McCain, his health insurance will be about $485/month for the whole family. Yep, that's what he said last night and we should believe him. So take that out.

So, what does that leave for poor Joe the Plumber? Only $10,340/month for all other expenses. In Toledo. Sorry, dude, that's a lot of money. Congratulations, you get to pay more taxes. 

Joe the Plumber. Joe Six-pack. What about the chicks, man?

6-4-3

I used to love baseball. Love it. I can't remember not having baseball as part of my life. Listening to the Tigers at my grandparents, Papa bitching about the Yankees, Nana's crazy crush on Mark Fidrych. And, sure, I was a Tigers fan, but I was also a fan of The Big Red Machine. Because The Big Red Machine was managed by Sparky Anderson. Yes, I was the dorky kid that was into the manager of the team. Oh George, never step on those foul lines! Needless to say, the day that Sparky Anderson went on to manage the Tigers -- bliss!

I just loved watching every little bit of the game. Following the count. Listening to the announcers spout out the crazy statistics ("The Phils are 1 and 3 when the count is full after 2 outs in the 8th inning...") The dorky sayings  ("a little chin music!") I'd watch every game during the season. It was the background of my summers.

The Roar of '84! The best year ever. Alan Trammel! Lou Whitaker! Chet Lemon! I love them all. Bless you, boys! It was so much fun to follow such gloriousness. When we moved to Philadelphia, following the Phils was a way to pass the time. We'd all watch the games and wonder if moving was the right thing to do. 

Although I enjoyed going to games, it wasn't a big part of my fan-dom. I was actually just as happy to watch them on television or listen on the radio. When I was in grad school, listening on the radio was a way to calm down. The rhythm of the game, the cadence of the announcers, it was all very zen to me. 

So, what changed? Well, the strike didn't help. I know, you've probably forgotten all about the strike, but it broke my baseball rhythm. Once I stopped watching and got used to baseball not being there, it was easy to stay away. Baseball is about sticking it out for the long run. It's a game almost every day. It's nine innings, full counts, hundreds of pitches, no clock. You got to stick it out. I just haven't been able to pick it back up.

But yay for the Phils for now!