A busload of nursing students went to Springfield today for Nursing Political Action Day. Every year student nurses from all over the state gather to listen to nurse leaders and learn about our responsibilities to our profession, then march to the Capitol building.

During the lunch break, Jenny and I visited Abraham Lincoln's house. I definitely appreciated the history more than I did in seventh grade, when I was more concerned about a chaperone finding out about the Bowie knife I bought at the New Salem Historic Site and confiscating it. Seriously, who sells a knife to 12 year old?

I wonder if the passenger who sat here completed the sudoku before or after urinating everywhere.

Draft Day. Kuta hoists the Jeremy Hernandez Memorial League trophy above the city. He threepeated this year, much to the annoyance of the nine other general managers. Bastard.

Every year me and Bill and Trupe and Nick get together for ribs flown up from Rendezvous, a famous rib joint in Memphis. Vivian joined us this year, and as it would be irresponsible to let a one year old chew on a rib bone, she ate fruit and cheerios as we dined on our annual delicacy.

I went to see The Eagles tonight with my family. The tickets said "No Cameras", so I took this picture in the parking lot of the Sears Center and then left my camera in the car. Once the show started, Glenn Frey invited everyone to take no more than three photos per song. Oh well.

I grew up listening to a lot Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, and Journey. There was a period of time in college where I thought I was too cool for the Eagles, but that has passed, and now I enjoy their music again. Don Henley and Joe Walsh played a lot of their solo material. "The Heat Is On" did not make the setlist; I wonder if Glenn Frey was pissed about this, or is willing to accept the nerdiness of his solo career.

I made a flyer advertising focus groups being conducted for ER nurses. Jeri, Debbie, and Deborah were kind enough to let me use their likenesses. I titled it "Looking Bravely Forward", which was the name of a sketch show I was in a couple years ago.

Beer garden season approaches.

I think the apartment building next to my building was recently condemned. I think this is a strange way to tell people to stay out.

The smell in the first floor men's bathroom at the College of Nursing has been bothering me for a while, not because it's nasty, but because it smells like food. I finally figured out today that it is either pancakes and syrup or waffles and syrup.

Can someone please explain why there is an apostrophe in the phrase Drunk Again?

When patients are admitted to one of the upstairs units from the ER, we have to call report to the nurse that is receiving them. This task causes me an incredible amount of anxiety, as the faceless nurse on the other end of the line is often kind of mean.

I have always had trouble talking on the phone with strangers, which I believe stems from when I was three and told my grandma that I was going to call my mom. She said, "Okay", not realizing that I didn't know that in order to reach someone you had to dial a particular sequence of numbers. I picked up the phone and hit the buttons until it rang, and had the following conversation.

Woman: Hello.
Me: Hi mom!
Woman: (in terrifying witch voice) I'm not your mother! [click]

Then I crawled behind the couch and cried until my dad came and picked me up.

I made my triumphant return to the Southside parade today with Nick and Katie. Katie's mom lives a couple houses from the parade route, so there's always a refuge from the throngs of drunken turds that overrun the neighborhood every year. In my opinion, it's never okay to be a disgusting animal; the thousands of Northside idiots that get dropped off there by the busload do not share my convictions.

Tonight I shadowed Airn, the Family Nurse Practitioner that works in the ER Fast Track. Nothing pithy to say about it, other than I learned a lot.

Had dinner with the dudes tonight at The Full Shilling in Wrigleyville. Midway through dinner, a creepo guy came over and sat behind us and started drawing us while having religious conversations with himself. It was the same guy who drew a caricature of Trupe and Hansen a few years ago, and then told them that their words would turn to ashes in their mouths. As I was leaving, he stopped me and gave me the picture.

Creepo: Hi, I'm [Lester?].

Me: Hi, Matt.

Creepo: Repeat after me: I had a vision, in the green grass, of Yeshua.

Me: repeat

Creepo: There, now you are a Hebrew. Hahahaha!

Me: Uh, thanks?

It was a coincidence that we were sitting in the appropriate order at Gingerman afterward. If you couldn't tell, I am the one on the far left.

Nick teaches at The Latin School, where each year students participate in Project Week. During past Project Weeks, Nick has taken students on a theater trip to London and a desert vision quest in the Southwest. This year he stayed in the city and did a week of competitions based on reality TV shows. For The Amazing Race, he asked me to pretend to be an Italian bocce pro in Arrigo Park in Little Italy.

Nick: It'll be easy. The kids have to beat you at bocce, then you give them their next clue. I've even got a hat and a little vest for you.
Me: What if a real Italian walks by and beats the shit out of me for using a bad Italian accent?
Nick: We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

It was really fun. You could tell the kids weren't totally buying the fact that I was Italian, but were too polite to call me out on it. Nick told me later that the last place team ended up winning the whole thing by being the fastest to solve the puzzles at the National Museum of Mexican Art in Pilsen, which made me happy as they were clearly the most cohesive.

Me: What are they doing tomorrow?
Nick: Top Chef. We were supposed to get actual Top Chef contestants to judge the competition, but they weren't able to do it. Bummer.

I went to an open house for Illinois Masonic this afternoon. They have a residency program for new graduates that aims to retain nurses by providing an extended orientation program and multiple forms of support for nurses in the transition from school to hospital floor. It sounds like a pretty incredible program, and I think the hundreds of other soon-to-be nurses jammed into the room would agree with me.

It's kind of a scary time to be graduating. Nationally, there is still a nursing shortage, but that shortage is not very prevalent in Chicago. In this economy, nurses who were going to retire may be putting that off, nurses working part time are bumping themselves up to full time, and a couple notable hospitals in Chicago have implemented hiring freezes. I think we are all getting used to the idea that our first and second choices for employment may be impossible, and anything after that marginally difficult to acquire. I know everything will work out, but am still a bit nervous.

Today was Research Day at the College of Nursing. While getting coffee before the first research presentation, a woman stopped me and told me that I look like William Shatner.

Me: Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment.
Woman: You should. I am a huge Star Trek fan.

Other celebrities I have been told I resemble: Patrick Swayze, Andy Richter, Philip Seymour Hoffman, John Daly, and Sean Astin (kids at Taft High School used to chant "Rudy, Rudy" when I walked down the hall.) Here I am showing off my Patrick Swayze eyes.

I still love Chicago, despite repeated attempts by the city to make me hate it.

Sometimes I feel like an ER Star. Most of the time I don't.