Elliot Wiser, (the guy who created Bay News 9 in the Tampa Bay area) was one of my professors during fall 2009. He had this hunch that mobile phones are going to take over lives; that millennials will rely on mini-computer-like cell phones to function in this world – as if technology doesn’t already drive people away from engaging socially with one another on a normal level. I thought he was looking too far into the future. At this moment in time everything is online and now in its fast-paced nature, everything you can think of is converted to a phone application.

I recently acquired a hand-me-down PDA from my father: the Blackberry World Edition. What a professional, look at me I’m about to take a conference call or Google Zagat rated restaurants, pain in the neck. I’m not complaining but the phone is so wide and bulky that I feel obligated to hold it in my hand wherever I go so the track ball and buttons do not get ruined by the inner-depths of my messy purse. But my concealed aversion towards this mega-phone changed once I discovered a little treasure called ‘phone apps.’ I decided to call my Blackberry friend.

Here I am on the computer happily downloading free phones apps from the Blackberry Web site. So far I have AOL Instant Messenger, Associated Press Mobile News, the Bible and Slifter, a price comparing application, all at my fingertips. Do I care my lap top recently perished? Not like I should because I can research, check e-mail, news, weather, friend‘s status on Facebook and all the other very important things.

Let’s just hope the phone does not kiss the concrete any time soon. There goes the entire face and our friendship.

I haven’t stepped up to the iPhone plate yet and sure enough when that day comes, I will probably spend countless night-time hours browsing through the hundreds of apps in the iTunes store. But for now, the Blackberry apps are warming me up to the ultimate brand for apps: Apple.

If you have a Blackberry, visit blackberry.com and click on software. There you will find apps for news and weather, sports, travel and mapping, games and entertainment, music and media, lifestyle and finance and banking. Be careful, you will get addicted.

In addition to the article about the Graduate Record Exam I wrote in The Crow’s Nest, I have to mention something that I didn’t get a chance to say: if you don’t know USF Tampa and you signed up to take the exam there, make sure you find out where the testing building is before the test day.

I say this because I was lost for a half hour and thought I’d never make it to the test. The instructions on the GRE e-mail confirmation say to stop by the campus-visiting center immediately upon driving through the entrance and ask the personnel where the testing center building is. My test was at 8 a.m., I arrived on campus at 7 a.m. and the visiting center was not open. Can you smell disaster?

I drove around to find the building while I thanked the heavens for my Blackberry’s ability to give me some kind of direction. The minutes passed quickly and I realized I was circling a campus about 10 times the size of USF St. Petersburg. With 20 minutes left to spare before my test appointment, I sped back to the visiting center and it was finally open! The lady gave me a map and I made it to my test at the last possible minute.

So, it is my obligation to relay to subsequent GRE takers where this elusive building is.

The road leading into the campus is called Leeroy Collins. Off this road, make a right on USF Alumni Drive. Make a left on USF Maple Drive. Follow all the way down to USF Holly Drive and make a left. You will then see USF Myrtle Drive. Make a left and this leads you into the Crescent Hill Parking Facility where all USF students with a parking decal can park. Walk south to the Student Services Building. There are always people walking around so if you get lost, rest assured there is help. The testing services room is upstairs.

Another piece of advice: make sure you do not eat or drink in the testing services waiting room or the testing room. Even though your GRE practice test book says you should bring a snack, snacks are not welcome by the office personnel. You’ll get snapped at.

And another thing – make sure your signature looks exactly the same as the copy on your driver’s license. I had mine whiteout and was told to try again.

USF’s annual spring football game was all about first impressions this year, as the split squads of green and white faced off for the first action on the gridiron of 2009. On one hand, the trio of new coaches – offensive coordinator Mike Canales, defensive coordinator Joe Tresey, and co-defensive coordinator David Blackwell – had a lot to prove, as well as the Bulls’ incoming class of talented recruits.

On Saturday, neither group disappointed the fans at Raymond James Stadium.

“That was as exciting a spring game as maybe you will ever see,” USF head coach Jim Leavitt said after the game.

Although true, Leavitt’s words were an understatement in describing the actual events that unfolded during the four quarters on the field. Led by red-shirt freshman quarterbacks B.J. Daniels and Evan Landi, the green and white teams battled each other literally until the end. On the final play, with no time remaining on the clock and after Landi connected with Colby Erskin to bring the white squad within one, Landi’s two-point conversion pass attempt sailed just inches over the head of receiver Theo Wilson, allowing the green team to barely escape with a 21-20 win.

As both young arms put on a show, the game did not appear to be about green versus white as much as it was a duel for the backup quarterback role to returning senior Matt Grothe. Come August, Leavitt might have a tough decision to make, as both Daniels and Landi played phenomenally. The pair of quarterbacks scored more points in the first half than the past two spring games combined. Individually, Daniels completed 11 of 19 passes, good for 181 yards and two touchdowns, despite throwing one interception. Landi went 20 for 30 with 189 yards, two touchdowns, and two interceptions.

Daniels put the green team on top in the first quarter, ironically not with his arm, but with his legs instead. He scampered in the end zone for a one-yard run, a score set up by his very own 55-yard completion to receiver Dontavia Bogan on the previous play. Before the green team could end the first quarter with a seven-point lead, Evan Landi tied the score with what was a mirror image of Daniels’ pass earlier in the period: a 55-yard bomb right into the hands of fellow red-shirt freshman Daniel Bryant.

The first quarter proved to be an indication of how the remainder of the game would play out: back and forth scoring that rendered the game a clinic on how to score points.

“This was my third spring game and this definitely was the best one yet,” said USF student Jeremy McLeod. “It was high scoring, exciting, back and forth touchdowns, pretty much what everyone wants to see when they come to a football game.”

After Daniels put the green squad up in the second quarter with a 20-yard touchdown pass, his next throw on the next possession landed into the hands of the white team’s cornerback back Carlton Mitchell, who took it to the house 95 yards to tie the game at 14. Even with an aerial assault of offense from the two freshman quarterbacks, the defense of both the green and white teams stepped up when it mattered most. Senior linebacker Chris Robinson picked off Landi’s pass, which led to the go-ahead winning touchdown capped off by a 46-yard pass from Daniels to Bogan. Robinson’s pick was the last of four total turnovers forced by the defense on the night.

A week spent in New York began with a free trip to the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA). Aware of the continuing economic recession, MoMA has finally taken a cue from the European art museums and is providing free entry, even if it is corporately sponsored (Target Free Fridays!) and only one afternoon a week. The visitors inside couldn’t seem farther removed from the recession, they laughed and talked together, while taking it all in. What was the featured exhibit captivating my attention? Martin Kippenberger: The Problem Perspective.

It is my opinion that Kippenberger’s work asks not the question, ‘What is Art?’ but rather, ‘What is an artist?’ Dead at 44 from a liver disease undoubtedly linked to his alcoholism, Kippenberger represents what I think to be the ‘Insane Artist’ prototype. Both his critics and his fans agree he was manic, unpredictable and wildly productive.

Living up the crazy stereotype, he defied all others. Was he a painter? A photographer? A graphic designer? A performance artist? A carpenter?

Walking into MoMA, I was greeted by a huge open space chock full of Kippenberger-created furniture. Tables, chairs, swings, shelves, dressers, even wooden people filled the space. A small circular train track didn’t carry your typical cars. Instead, replicas of the capital punishment electric chair lined the track.

His furniture alone could have carried the exhibit. But his furniture was only the beginning. As I made my way up to the sixth floor, I found a wall of posters. Nearly every poster featured a photograph of himself, his name consistently larger than all other words on the piece. Most of the posters announced his gallery openings, and he designed each one himself, making them an easy outlet for his glaring narcissism.

Then, as if on cue, he fooled me again. I entered a room that was literally breathtaking – I cannot remember the last time I saw something new that was so captivating. I stood in front of a wall of his paintings for 15 minutes. A grid of the square paintings seduced viewers, with depictions of everything from a city street to a portrait of a young girl. The relatively small paintings (probably two feet by two feet) were done in only black and white gauche, with intensely brilliant attention to light.

Simply turning around within the same room illuminated his mastery of light. Behind me, hung Kippenberger’s photography. Certainly practice with a camera brings a new understanding of light, one Kippenberger capitalized on to create dramatic representations of light.

The little I knew about Kippenberger was mostly associated with his mania and productivity, but I had no idea the range of his work. I remember hoping at this point, that as I continued through the exhibit I would be struck by a real rarity -consistent excellence throughout it.

I was disappointed. It seemed the curators of MoMA packed a lot of punch with Kippenberger’s first few rooms, only to strikingly taper off towards the end. The paintings went from great to mediocre, his real skill hidden behind what looked to be a purging of insanity. I imagined my own journal of neuroses and frustration with EDS poured onto a canvas, and found it in his more abstract work.

Still, I loved the exhibit. Kippenberger took risks, tried new things, never resting on his laurels. He kept creating, drawing, drinking and indulging until his death. Kippenberger broke all conventional rules of mastery of medium, opting instead for a life of a renaissance addict. Some of his work represented the adage of quantity of quality, but his philosophy of “living life to the fullest” was clear – Kippenberger chose quality of life over quantity any day.

A dark comedy with the word sunshine in the title is usually a good sign. “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” left me in a dark and sunny place, and “Little Miss Sunshine” was so brightly uncomfortable it received a whole handful of Oscar nods – including a nomination for Best Picture and two wins: Best Original Screenplay and Best Supporting Actor for Alan Arkin’s performance as foul-mouthed Edwin. Knowing a good thing when they produce one, “Little Miss Sunshine” producers Peter Saraf and Marc Turtletaub again joined forces to bring “Sunshine” to the big-screen: “Sunshine Cleaning.”

The similarities don’t end with the titles and producers. Both “Sunshine” films are set in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and both are brightened by an Alan Arkin supporting role. This time around, Arkin plays Joe Lorkowski, father of daughters Rose and Norah, played by Hollywood’s surprise favorites Amy Adams and Emily Blunt. Receiving critical acclaim in “Doubt” (Adams) and “The Devil Wears Prada” (Blunt), both women give sincerely convincing performances as two sisters trying to dig themselves out of dreary realities.

“Sunshine Cleaning” succeeds from its two lead female characters and the women who play them. Rose (Adams) is the reformed head cheerleader, now a career-less single mom longing to provide a better life for her son and hell bent on proving herself to the world. Her world of course, consists of old high school chums who broke the lower-class ceiling, living the good life as middle-class stay-at-home moms with successful husbands, 3,000 sq. ft. homes, and lavish baby showers. Living the life of a never-ending high school reunion from hell, Rose starts her own business in a desperate attempt to become someone her high school classmates will again envy.

Her one employee is her sister Norah, another failure by societal standards. Your pseudo-gothic, beer chugging, blue eye-shadow wearing Norah is your typical woman stuck in adolescence. She lives at home, screws up every minimum wage job she lands, and still parties under the train tracks. So, you’ve got your pick of heroines: Rose, the uptight, delusional poser, or Norah, the foul-mouthed, attention-hungry punk.

The characters of “Sunshine Cleaning” are brought to life by authentic performances from Adams and Blunt. Adams couldn’t play a character farther from her role as a sinless nun in “Doubt,” yet she is as convincing as a woman of God as she is in “Sunshine Cleaning” as an ex-high school siren, now having a sex-filled affair with a married man.  Blunt, playing an anorexic uptight snob in “The Devil Wears Prada” effortlessly transforms into her “Sunshine” role as the free spirit with no notion of “posh” or “class” to say the least.

Both women use “Sunshine Cleaning” to showcase their acting versatility, and ability to save a film from mediocrity.  Your run of the mill dark comedy elevates to a praiseworthy date flick.

I felt compelled to view “Slumdog Millionaire” after the film won 10 Oscars, including Best Picture. Two and a half hours later, I sat in a near state of shock as the film ended. This movie won what? I searched and searched my most respected film review sources, The New Yorker, MetaCritic, Pitchfork, and felt in shock further still as each source praised the genius that is “Slumdog Millionaire”. After much reflection, I must admit – I wholeheartedly disagree.

Even the film’s highpoints seem calculated – the cinematography captivated me, but in an uncomfortable way more than anything. The visual circus assaulted me. I thought the colors intensely overdone and the music and sound effects louder than necessary to create the intended setting. But hey, maybe this really was India. A bright and bustling circus full of grime, poverty and horror. And the sensory overload seemed of pornographic proportion. I remember catching myself a few times, staring at the movie with a facial contortion made possible only by unease.

It’s not the calculated production choices that led me to such distaste of Slumdog. It is the plot itself. Slumdog, a screenplay adapted from the novel Q&A, is a fairytale in every sense; boy meets girl, overcomes obstacle after obstacle in winning her back, and the story ends happily ever after. Well, at least their story does.

The two main characters make the impossible ascent from rags to riches, while the rest of Indian slum residents remain in destitution. Using the gameshow Who Wants to Be a Millionaire as the catalyst for two slumgoers to escape the horror of abuse, starvation, and wildly unsanitary conditions, I was unable to enjoy the success of Jamal and Latika when prefaced by such exploitation of the slums.

Even as reviewers united in their praise of the film, Slumdog is not without its criticism. Slum-dwellers protest the title itself, shamed by the reference that they are dogs. Many held signs in the streets of Mumbai, including one that said, “We are not dogs, we are the future of India.” Bloggers railed against the Fox production company after news surfaced that the child actors of the film still lived in harsh poverty, and will return there after a brief showcase of the two children at the Oscars. These two complaints by Mumbai natives and bloggers are indicative of my severe distaste for the film. Placing a fairytale against the backdrop of very real poverty and hell on earth seems insensitive if not just plain exploitative.

Now, I realize I may sound harsh. And honestly, that does disturb me. I’ve heard the argument, “You don’t go to the cinema for a dose of reality, isn’t the escapist fairytale the whole reason you go to the movies?” Yes. I am not at all making the extreme moral argument that one should never go to the movies because it is time better spent saving the world or curing the evils that plague humanity. Go out, get entertained! But I will not apologize for my opinion that the film was completely low brow. And there, in fact, is the beauty of “Slumdog Millionaire.” I have always been an art appreciator who aired on the side of mass adoration. I have long felt that it was necessary to see the good in art to keep its concept expanding, finding value in the plain white canvas of the play Art, and the La Guernicas of the world. They all had their place. But this movie, personally, this movie was plain offensive. A movie so socially acclaimed reminds me that art is so many things to so many people, and I’m back where I started. Just what is art again?

Just what is art, anyway? Is it a classic Greek sculpture? Is it a blank canvas with nothing but a painted black square staring back at you? I have always been an advocate of expanding the confines of art, allow more not less, to qualify. Placing such rigid constraints upon art could limit the possibilities, creating a small box with which art is to fit inside – antithetical to the whole idea of creativity. The Oscar-winning documentary “Man on Wire” rebels against any art snobbery, forcing its viewers to acknowledge the art of life.

“Man on Wire” tells the story of Philippe Petit, a Frenchman with a big imagination, who achieved what is now revered as the greatest artistic crime of the century. In the middle of the night in August 1974, Mr. Petit and a group of associates illegally entered the World Trade Center, made their way to the top of both twin towers, and rigged a wire from roof to roof. Then, at around 7:15 a.m., Mr. Petit, practically walked on thin air for an hour, before finally surrendering to police waiting in awe on the roofs of both towers.

This is the best film I’ve seen in 2009 as of yet. I couldn’t recommend it more. The film is a work of art, defined by the art of wire walking it is documenting. The intricacies of the film mirrored Petit’s painstaking attention to detail; every aspect of the film was obviously intentional and carefully planned. The film’s classical piano score will move viewers as Petit dances on the wire, and it soon becomes apparent that no other music would suit the film as well. While classical music seemed an obvious choice, the decision between color and black and white was less clear. Director James Marsh impresses film aficionados by alternating between color and black and white, adding more visual flair to an already aesthetically enticing film.

The impeccable score, the interesting story devices and the showcase of the actual 35-year-old pencil drawings planning the scheme are all works of art, but the true art is the man on the wire. Mr. Petit delivers a thrill far exceeding my expectations, as he takes to the wire with such command and grace, you’d swear it couldn’t be real.

Mr. Petit is one of many narrators in the film, giving the audience a ground view of the high wire enigma. He lives up to all you’ve imagined, with wild eyes belonging only to a man truly moved by his own imagination. As friends and co-conspirators talk to the camera recounting memories and adoration of Philippe, I realized that Mr. Petit had seduced all of these people with his infatuation for adrenaline, fame and beauty. Mr. Petit speaks of his passion with such fervor; the audience sits in wonder of his life’s philosophy and his high wire gift, most certainly an art form.

Walking through the streets of St. Augustine is like stepping back in time. Old fashioned, architectural wonders harking back to the seventeenth and eighteenth century line the streets, giving visitors a glimpse into the past.

I was lucky enough to be able to visit the city during spring break with two friends, making the 3 hour drive from Tampa go by quickly as we talked about the historic sites and adventures that awaited us on the opposite coast of Florida.

The three of us compiled a list of places in St. Augustine deemed interesting enough to investigate upon arrival. Aside from the main attractions listed on the city’s website, we jotted down more places recommended by friends and relatives who had been there.

A good piece of advice to anyone visiting St. Augustine: Be sure to stay in a hotel, motel or bed & breakfast near St. George Street – the main artery of the city where all the major attractions are.

Parking is a real challenge within the confining streets of Downtown St. Augustine, so it is better to park in your hotel’s parking lot and just take a stroll.

Being the struggling college students we are, and eager for a new, exciting twist on an old fashioned bed & breakfast, we stayed at The Pirate Haus Inn, a pirate themed establishment on the corner of Charlotte and Treasury Streets that offered private rooms in addition to youth hostel-like quarters.

Upon entering the Pirate Haus Inn, and walking up the steps decorated in true pirate fashion, featuring the words to “Yo Ho, Yo Ho, A Pirate’s Life For Me,” we checked in at the front desk where “Captain Conrad” showed us to our rooms, providing us with maps of the area and books of coupons we later used at some of the attractions.

Our room was called “The Jungle Room,” and we soon learned why. The walls, bedspread, the sink in the bathroom and even the shower curtain were decked out in jungle attire, featuring wall-sized jungle murals designed and painted by Elaine Juzwick and Pat Hitchcock, local painters from St. Augustine who also designed the other rooms in the Inn: The tropical fish room, pirate room, and the map room among other themes.

For about $75 a night, we got our own private room, featuring a queen sized bed and a set of bunk beds big enough for any pirate-at-heart.

The best part about staying at the Pirate Haus Inn: Free all you can eat breakfast every morning. The catch: You have to wash your own dishes once you’re done. Not too bad.

Our first stop to investigate: Castillo de San Marcos, a national park two blocks away that was once a fort for the British and Spanish throughout different points in history, depending on the century.

Open from 8:45 a.m. to 5:15 p.m., the entrance fee is $6 for adults while children are free. Guests are given the chance to have their picture taken on the drawbridge of the old Fort, before taking a self guided tour through the many rooms set up to let visitors have a peek into the everyday lives of the soldiers who lived and died there.

The creepiest part of the tour by far was the prison, where guests are only allowed to peer in through the circular window in the door. You feel as if you’re being watched, and given all the stories about the soldiers who haunt the Castillo, you very well might be.

We stepped outside just in time for a musketeer demonstration put on by a group of state park volunteers who were decked out in what looked like Revolutionary War outfits. As the guns pop-popped behind us, we ducked back into the downstairs level to crawl through the short, narrow tunnel and check out what had once been a gunpowder storehouse hidden deep inside the building to prevent accidental explosions.

After spending about 2 hours exploring the Castillo, we decided to go for a walk down St. George Street to get a better feel of the city.

Passing through the gates of the city, we watched as groups of tourists continued down the alleys, shopping at quaint little chocolate shops and stopping to buy souvenirs.

We decided to check out the Colonial Spanish Quarter’s Living History Museum, a place where volunteers helped to recreate what life was like in St. Augustine during the 1740s.

Open daily from 9 a.m. to 5:30 p.m., college students who show an I.D. can get in for $4.25, while normal prices for adults are $6.95. Children can get in for $4.25.

Inside the old fashioned looking walls of the Museum, we were greeted by the town blacksmith, church scribe, carpenter, soldier’s wife and a man fashioning satchels out of leather by hand, which we later learned were sold in the Museum gift shop.

We spent the rest of the day wandering around the city, taking in the buildings, shops and breathtaking views of the sunset over Matanzas Bay.

The next morning, we got up early and drove down San Marcos Blvd. to see the Mission of Nombre de Dios and the Shrine of Our Lady of La Leche, the oldest Spanish mission founded on September 8th, 1565 by Pedro Menendez de Aviles. To be brutally honest, we spotted a creepy old cemetery and were too intrigued to pass it up.

We then drove over the Bridge of Lions to Anastasia Island, home of the St. Augustine Lighthouse & Museum, our next stop on the map.

Be sure to clip a coupon for a 10% discount towards entrance fees, which made it about $10 to get in. After climbing up 219 steps, the panoramic view of the city made it all worthwhile.

For our last stop, we drove 15 miles along highway A1A South toward Fort Matanzas, the site where nearly 250 French soldiers were slaughtered by the Spanish as they tried to invade the city. 175 years later, the Spanish used the Fort to prevent the British from taking over their lands.

Lucky for us, the entrance to the park was free, as was the 5 minute ferry ride across Matanzas Bay to the actual Fort. The park is open daily from 9 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. and ferries travel to the Fort every hour on the half hour.

St. Augustine is the perfect place to go exploring with your camera, as there are picturesque settings at every turn. Whether you’re a history buff or just like to relax and go for a stroll around town, St. Augustine helps all who visit to get a better understanding of Florida’s past, giving us a better appreciation for where we came from.

With the disapproval and utter disbelief of being snubbed out of the Women’s NCAA Tournament, the USF Lady Bulls are proving to the NCAA Selection Committee that they belong. With a 22-10 overall regular season record, the Bulls were hoping to clinch a berth into the Big Dance, but instead were forced to settle for a bid to the NIT.

Regardless of the tournament, USF is taking the field by storm during their sixth consecutive post-season appearance. After receiving a first-round bye, the Lady Bulls defeated Florida Gulf Coast on March 21, although it was no easy task. After Bulls standout Jasmine Wynne put USF up with 15 seconds left to play, Florida Gulf Coast tied the game with two seconds remaining and sent the game into overtime. But in the extra period, USF did what it has done all year long: play hard when it counts. Wynne took control of the added period from its start, scoring the first four points and going 10-for-16 on her way to leading the Bulls to an 88-81 victory.

“I’m really glad to see them doing well,” USF Tampa student Lashawna Jackson said. “I think they deserved to be in the NCAA Tournament, but it didn’t work out. But now they’re showing how good they are by taking one game at a time and knowing what they need to do to keep the season alive.”

USF is taking one game at a time, but it’s also important to look at the whole season to realize just what they’ve accomplished. After all, the second-round win against Florida Gulf Coast was just another accolade in what has been a record-setting season.

According to the official athletics Web site gousfbulls.com, the Lady Bulls have scored 2,649 points during the 2008-09 season. They have also blocked 187 shots this season – second on the schools single season list. They are three blocks shy of equaling, and four from breaking, the current record of 190 blocks that was set during the 2006-07 season. USF set a new school mark for assists, as well, in a single season when it dished out 23 against Cincinnati in USF’s regular season home finale on Feb. 28 in Tampa. In addition, USF currently has 360 steals to its credit, which is the third most recorded in a single season in school history. The Bulls are one theft shy of tying – and two from surpassing – the 2004-05 team that is in second with 361. The single season school record for steals is 365 during the 2001-02 campaign.

Including the third-round 74-57 win against Ole Miss on March 26, the Lady Bulls not only propelled themselves into the NIT’s Elite Eight, but they also clinched their 24^th win of the season – the most by any USF basketball team, men’s or women’s, in school history.

USF will attempt to extend their hot streak, and their season, in the NIT quarterfinals against either Wisconsin or St. Bonaventure on March 28.

This season of Grey’s Anatomy is getting down to the real drama as the show inches itself toward its close. In anticipation to see what happens to Izzie, Derek’s professional performance and Meredith’s engagement ring that Derek chucked into the woods, I have to ask my self: Is the occurring drama actually as good as it seems?

I am stuck thinking this show is either fabulous or ridiculous. Without really knowing what goes on inside a hospital I cannot conclude what actually happens or not. Maybe it is the character relations that are so aggravating. Can Meredith be any more selfish? Are hospital interns really that stupid? Do doctors always get away with yelling at patients?

Oh yeah, now I remind my self that it is a television show with a cause to provide entertainment.

Now that we all know Izzie has some type of odd cancer, it is down to Derek to save her. If she dies under Derek’s hand, it is safe to assume that he will go into a depressive state while poor Meredith, as selfish as she is, will never get to marry him because she will be too busy picking up his beer cans. If Izzie lives, then I don’t know – congratulations Derek and on to the next season?

Without looking at the Grey’s Anatomy Insider Web site, I still cannot decide if Izzie will live or die. Now if this there is a twist to this week’s episode, I will believe this show is a masterpiece. Otherwise, I’ll look forward to the new actor who takes Izzie’s place.