Two Martinis and a Jager Bomb

Happy Birthday to my Partner in Crime

2008-12-03T09:23:00.006-05:00

Once uponst a time...

I was having a very bad day. I immediately picked up the phone and called my best friend, Christel and after a few short minutes, everything was right with the world... or at least not so overwhelming that I could make it the next few hours without tequila shots or going postal at work...

I looked at my coworker and pointed to the phone and said. "If you don't have one of those, I highly recommend picking one up."

"One what?" she asked.

"A Christel," I replied. "She fixes the Rubiks Cube that is my brain when life comes along and jacks it all up... or at least one side of it."

For all the times you have arranged my Rubiks Cube to get me through another day, I thank you. Thank you for being my partner in crime and joining me on all our adventures- adventures that started with silly things like Endless Quests for alcohol as minors, to boys and weddings and kids, baseball trips and *sigh* growing up!

Happy Birthday, Christel!!!

MVP

2008-11-19T09:35:00.004-05:00

CONGRATULATIONS DUSTIN!!!

Of COURSE he's the AL MVP, and you wanna know why?

Because Dustin Pedrioia isn't scared of anyone. He plays like a little boy who wants to win a big, shiny, trophy and not like a money hungry, 'roid raging asshole like a lot of players. He LOVES the game- he is a 5 foot 9 man with an 8 foot swing. And they are afraid of him. Because he's a scrapper and they all know he'll do what he needs to, to win.

I'm so excited for ya, Dustin, and I second the motion of our Large Father,

"Congratulations, Badass..."

Potpourri...

2008-11-05T11:18:00.003-05:00

(That is Spanish for a bunch of random crap all thrown together in one blog post..)

So, YAY! Obama won and I couldn't be happier. I am so proud of my country for finally fucking getting it right this time. I think it is great that he almost took Texas- a place where I have felt for years I was wasting my time voting because you know it's going Republican... I feel good, I feel energized. I am SO happy we are getting Bush O-U-T. I am excited for the future. And more than anything, i am so happy I can look at MY baby brother, who is of a very similar heritage to Obama and say "See- you CAN do anything!"

Change. It will be slow, I know that, but its already started. And we can only go up from here...

While I don't normally like to discuss politics or religion with most people, I do so now hoping that we can all agree that change was needed and support our new president elect.

*****

I made my hotel reservations for my BOSTON trip in May of next year with my friend Christel and although I don't have baseball or airplane tickets, it was AMAZING to see my name with a reservation number next to a BOSTON address! I was giddy with excitement for a whole day.

I have started my research and am assembling a list of MUST DOs while I'm there. yes, some are super touristy and I don't care. I have dreamed of this trip since I was 13 years old. If I want to go see the Freedom Trail that I did research projects on, I'm gonna! So, here is my list- if you are an expert or local, please feel free to comment or add suggestions:

1. Fenway (duh)

I'm hoping to go to at least 3 games- 2 Mets and a Toronto, but not just the games, I also am going on the tour.

2. The Freedom Trail

It's ridiculous how excited I am about this...

3. Harvard

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

4. Charles River

Want to take some kind of sight-seeing cruise. Yes, Christel, ME- on a little boat!!!!

5. Pub crawl

if I can find an organized one, great, if not, a will make my own! The Cask, Cheers, Sam Adams Brewery, Boston Beer Works, Game On! Any other must sees?

6. Union Oyster House

Mmmmm. Chowder.

7. Walk through parts of the Emerald Necklace

What say you?

*****

Got to go now.. My BFF's BF is having a Pub Golf themed birthday party and I'm off to figure out how to make argyle look mildly slutty... Ta ta!

Well...

2008-10-20T10:49:00.000-04:00

Now that I have had 10 or so hours to sit in silence and process it, I can officially say, “I’m okay.”

I will be okay. It was a great season and really, I can’t thank the Sox, Sox fans and friends I’ve met this year enough. Beginning on a March morning when I was up at 5am to watch the opener in Japan and ending last night probably when we had bases loaded in the 8th and couldn’t bring anyone home to save our lives…. We have won and lost and had fights, and laughs… I have watched games on TV and in person, I went to the Cincy series, I saw them in Houston and in Arlington. It was all awesome.

We made them all work for it. Manny or no Manny- injured Mike Lowell, JD Drew down for a long time, Beckett not being Beckett- we made them all work for it. The Yankees have been playing golf for 3 weeks. We never gave up- not even down 3-1. We showed the world what it means to wear a Sox uniform. I am so proud.

I feel like I have earned a Red Sox stripe or a battle scar. I have always felt like I needed to pay my dues to be considered a ‘real fan’. And now I do feel like I have a scar to show for it. Cause that, my friends, hurt real fucking badly.

I know, I know… Next year. Of course there’s next year. And we’ll kill them. I know that. So for now, we put the bats up, pull the winter coats out and wait. The boys deserve some time off, I will pay attention to people again. And I will dream of next season and all it will bring me…

I still believe, I still have faith.

GO SOX!

A PostSeason Pep Talk...Kinda

2008-10-13T09:12:00.004-04:00

Well, Saturday's game blew. I have an ulcer from 5 hours of constant stomach clenching- No, the bottle of vodka I drank while watching it has nothing to do with it, thank you very much.

Maybe I expected too much. I expected Josh to get up there, step on some throats and make some Rays cry 'uncle'. Instead, after every pitch I was screaming at the screen "For fucks sake, someone show him a CALENDAR!!! He doesn't know it's October!!!!" That could be the only explanation...

At least he knew- this from an article in The Globe by Amalie Benjamin...

He followed that with a somewhat profane assessment of his last outing: "I pitched like [expletive]. I gave up eight [expletive] runs."

That's right, Josh. You did pitch like shit. You did, in fact, give up eight fucking runs.

But I forgive you. I believe in you. I know that this is going to piss you off so badly that when you do get to pitch in Game Six, it will be the final game and those Florida Asshats are going down.

Now go get Tek to stop taking notes and start taking some fucking BP, would ya?!

See you this afternoon boys, make momma proud...

Boys and Clothes...

2008-10-09T10:56:00.005-04:00

May I just take a moment, before all the hoorah of Game One in Tampa ensues… Before we go storming into the Trop to crush some mohawked Rays… before I start screaming at my TV, then making out with it, depending on the play… and say how much I love seeing my boys in their civilian clothes? Spotted these photos of the boys leaving for Tampa and had to pause…

I love how they have to dress up in a jacket or tie for their team rides- have always loved that. Loved it in high school when the boys had to wear ties on game days… There’s something about it that says, “I can be sliding into second with baseball dirt from my nipples to my knees on minute, but be hot as hell, all dressed up and ready to go 5 minutes later. Who do you want me to be, Angela? Hot Jon or Baseball Jon? Maybe hot Jon will take you dinner and put on the uni for later…”

Errr… sorry. Maybe that was TMI.

But really. Just LOOK at them! It also makes me giggle just a bit to see Mr.Beckett and his belt buckle. THAT, right there my friends, is a Texas boy!

Cheers to Paps and Mikey… Although this is a pic from last year, it never ceases to make me smile. This photo says “Here’s to the dreams we are about to crush when this bitchin’ plane lands and I get my work clothes back on!”

Here, here.

Roadtrip to Compton

2008-10-03T16:39:00.001-04:00

The day started innocently enough. As I was driving to work I heard a commercial for the monster truck races this weekend. A few minutes later, the children’s father called and said it would be fun for the boys and could I go buy the tickets. Easy enough. I got to work and googled the nearest location to buy the them. It was 2 miles from work in an area I’m unfamiliar with because I go the opposite direction every day.

At lunch time I followed the directions which led me to freaking East LA- Compton, if you will. Graffiti, bars on all the doors and window, stores with chains and signs in a language I didn’t understand, people all over the street corners and I’m pretty sure I saw someone sitting on a cement block smoking a crack pipe- I could give better confirmation if I knew for sure I had seen an actual crack pipe before…. Anyway.

I ended up at an old, broke ass auto parts store and walk in- in my cute sweater vest and skirt, heels and giant purse-bag in the crook of my elbow. I was greeted by a nice man with gold teeth who had tattoos across his knuckles.

“Hey Lady, you lost?”

Um. Nooo. I don’t think so anyway… Then it happened. As soon as the words came out of my mouth I felt like everything went into to slow motion and I had an out of body experience.

“I’d like to buy tickets to the monster truck races.”

I’d almost whispered the request like I was looking to score some rock or something… Seriously? Did those words actually come out of my mouth? And did they really come out of my mouth here- in Austin-Compton? Who am I? Where am I? I like to tell people that because I was born in Detroit, I am totally a city girl. I’m waaaay more street than you think I am. All of a sudden… not so much.

The man said something in Spanish to a few guys behind him and they all laughed at (I’m assuming) me, then he proceeded to tell me they only accepted cash for those, NOT the debit card I was thrusting at him in hopes of hurrying this exchange along. He pointed outside and told me I could go across the store to the gas station.

Awesome. Crack pipe city. So I went across the street to the dirty gas station and stepped across a girl who sat straight legged near the door screaming into her cell phone and chain smoking. This time I was greeted by the man who was behind glass.

“Hey lady, you lost?”

WTF? Do I look lost? I didn’t bother answering, I was making a frantic sweep of the store for the ATM- I wasn’t going to ask him either. As I headed to the back of the store someone asked if I needed anything. I wish now I would have answered with something to make all of us more comfortable… Something like, “Yes, I need a shiv and a forty. And do you know where I could get a good safety pin tattoo? Cause I am totally about to buy tickets to the fucking Monster Truck Races…”

I didn’t. I got my cash and left as quickly as possible. I went back to the auto parts store where I noticed a few men watching me through the windows. I’m sure they were just making sure I got back safely….

My cashier took my cash and handed me the tickets.

“You have fun at the trucks, Lady!” More laughter from his friends.

I hightailed it out of there and got back to work, tickets in hand. Monster truck tickets. Score! While I won’t be attending, I can only imagine the kind of fun to be had. My boys are beside themselves. They are 7 and 4 and the thought of mud and motors and racing and sweet jumps almost makes them pee with glee.

I just hope they appreciate the adventure Mommy got to go on to procure them for them…

SOXTOBER AGAIN!

2008-10-01T15:03:00.003-04:00

Here's what Momma needs tonight, boys.

I need good, solid innings. We don't walk anyone- we get the K's. Jon, I'm not asking for a no-hitter. While I'm all for one and would never turn it down, I want you to know the expectation for that isn't there. All I'm asking for is 7, maybe 8 innings of awesome. I'm asking you to get us to the 9th with a lead and hand Paps the ball.

Paps, what I need is 9 straight strikes. I don't care how pretty they are. 3 up, 3 down. Give em' the crazy eye- stare them straight into hell, I don't care- whatever gets the job done. No one lays wood on the ball- make them fan the crowd until their hair blows. Just whatever you do- no runs, no walks... no skipping to bases, no strolling. No one touches those bags.

Got it boys? Let's take it one pitch at a time.

Tell my other guys what I need are hits. Yes, we all want to be heroes- and Grand Slams are f'ing AWESOME- but play SMART. Let me sum up:

Pick your pitch.

Hit the hell out of the ball.

GET ON THE BASE.

Repeat.

And one last thing- I would just like to remind you: You are the motherf*&^ing RED SOX. It is OCTOBER. You know what that means? It means you aren't men. You are gods. You have powers you don't even know about yet! It's go time, boys! Make me proud!

A BEA-YOUUUU-TA-FUL Way To Start the Day

2008-09-24T09:24:00.004-04:00

Thanks for saying it all for me, Youk & MLB!!!!

The Block...in Review

2008-09-09T10:43:00.003-04:00

First of all, I need to start for you where no one did for me. This bitch should come with a big sticker on the front WARNING any true NKOTB fans not to listen to it on their way to work, pick up their kids, go grocery shopping or anyplace where it would be highly inappropriate to be record levels of turned on and breathing funny. Because it will do so. In a BAD way.

Let me be very clear. So you can either not buy it for your daughters or so you can pour yourselves a drink and get into a satin robe before listening to it: This Album Is About Sex. Period. It is foreplay on a CD. And no, it’s NOT just because I have a dirty mind, thank you very much. I’m not gonna say my mental pictures aren’t going to be better than yours because of said dirty mind- because they might just be… But it really is.

After listening to it objectively 5 times through, I can officially state that what this album says to us, the lifelong fans is- “We were all too young back then, but we have all grown up now… And we could totally fuck if we wanted to… And we would be good at it. And you would like it... A lot.”

That said, here are this reviewers humble opinions so that we can all compare.

Click Click Click
This one is all about a man… and his camera. Taking pictures of the woman he worships. It is Jordan’s chocolately voice charming pants off of… Whoever. Love this song- but honestly can’t tell you if it’s because of the song or the video in my head. Doesn’t matter. Any song featuring Donnie saying the words “Take off your clothes for me” is aces in my book.

2.Single
It’s nice. It is. A good way for the boys to come back. I don’t put it on replay or anything, but it’s nice to hear the guys together again.

3.Big Girl Now
Dance-y and fun, I love this one. And more with the sex…

4. Summertime
I just ADORE this song. It makes me giggly and stupid. It is so fun and classic New Kids.

5. 2 in the Morning
A good one. If I’m honest, one I tend to skip over, if nothing else than to hurry up and get to #6… I’m impatient and demand gratification.

6. Grown Man
And this one delivers in the gratification department. Aye-ye-yie! Every time you hear Donnie say “Ima give you some Grown Man” there is no doubt exactly what he means.
7. Dirty Dancing
This is so fun and if anyone remembers Donnie’s almost Jamaican sounding raps from long ago, there’s a lot of that going on here. I was thrown by the “She’s like baby, I’m like Swayze” line at first because it sounded so damn cheesy, but this song is one that will grow on you.

8. Sexify My Love
I’m a fan of the made up word, but the first time I listened to this song, the word “sexify” just bothered me. Then I got to Joe crooning “I don’t care where we are, on the hood of my car, out in public making love in the streets…” aaaaaand I kinda didn’t care anymore. How the boys knew about my secret fantasy with Jeff Gordon on the hood of his still warm #24 Dupont Chevrolet, I don’t know, but they totally blew THAT one out of the water… Jeff who?

9. Twisted
This is one of my favorites. I LOVE this song. This is the one on replay. I love the beat, I love the words, the harmony. It is fast and fun.

10. Full Service (Featuring New Edition)
Again with the naughty images this one brings up…. Our guys sound awesome.

11. Lights, Camera, Action
This is a great song. And no, it is not about being on a set in Hollywood. Oh, it’s about filming alright, and I don’t care who you are- you’ll be agreeing to whatever the guys ask of you by the end of this one. But Joe, why do we only get one take?

12. Put It On My Tab (Featuring Akon)
Another indifferent one. It’s not bad by any means… I just tend to skip over it because I personally am over Akon.

13.Stare at You
Back in the day, you knew a few certainties when getting your Brand New NKOTB album… Donnie would have some awesome raps in there somewhere, Jordan would have lead vocals in 75% of the songs, you’d have to listen excruciatingly close to try to hear Jon…and Joe would have a heart clenching ballad.

Ladies, I give you the ballad. Yes, there's Jordan too. But this is the Big Girls version of Please Don’t Go Girl… and I HEART it.

14. One Song
This is another favorite that gets blasted on the way to work. If your car doesn’t become Dance Party USA during this one, you have no soul.

15. Don’t Cry
Like it. Made me wonder how the hell I ever went 13 years without hearing Joe and Jordan’s voices together.

16. Officially Over
This is the most fun damn breakup song you will ever hear.

17. Looking Like Danger
I like this one too, but again, I usually listen to the first half then skip over it to start over.

It really is a great CD. And I don’t mean “for a comeback of the New Kids”. It stands on its own compared to brand new artists. If I didn’t know who they were before, I would still love it. Fortunately for me, I have dreamt of this CD and tour for YEARS, so I just relish it that much more.

What’s odd is that I used to be such a Knight brother fanatic. I would lay awake at night trying to decide who I would marry when someday they both fell in love with me and asked me to marry them. I mean really, how could I come between 2 brothers like that? If I chose one, how would Christmas’s work?

Now? Now as a 33 year old woman I can’t even begin to list the appendages I would give up at a later date to be all up in the middle of a Joe & Donnie sammich. What is it about that damn Donnie??! And Joe with the eyes…and the crooning. I know where that came from. My Harry Connick Jr. fantasies have come to life again! Sigh.

I really hope this is just the beginning of something bigger. They didn’t come back with some Recycled Greatest Hits Album. They made a statement. They are back. And they are Grown. Ass. Men.

Hola...Housekeeping!

2008-08-23T15:13:00.003-04:00

So as many of you know I work at a hotel. I am a catering sales manager. Sales- as in I gotta look the part. I wear heels and get my nails done... I wear make up and jewelry and try my best to make my hair cute everyday. It's kinda my job.

Because I work in a hotel, I am surrounded by housekeepers. And I am being truthful, not at all racially biased, when I say they are ALL Hispanic. They are. And a few of them that speak a little English are incredibly sweet and laugh at my feeble attempts at Spanish. I feel a lot of guilt for the most part, standing up and grabbing my own trash out of the can when they come into my office to clean, or holding doors open for them as much as possible. I walk on tiptoes away from the clean parts when they're mopping floors, I've even tried to sit with them in the break room at lunch where they told me in no spoken words at all they They. Don't. Like. That.

So I try to be nice, "Hey, I'm just one of the girls" and that doesn't work... One lady and I spied each other as I was coming into work this morning. I was getting out of my car, juggling a giant purse, my keys, a Lean cuisine, a bottled water and my cell phone. She was coming out of the hotel with 4 giant bags of garbage- one of them leaking some form of smelly, fermented liquid- and taking them to the trash.

"Hola, Maria!" I said smiling, and asked how she was doing.

How the fuck did I think she was doing? She's taking out the trash at 7:30am!

I made a move for the trash to help her and she smiled and giggled and said no. Which I knew she would- they always do, and I was secretly grateful.... Is that wrong? I mean... the bag was leaking.

Is that why these women won't sit near me at lunchtime? They think that I think I'm better? I swear I don't! I'm just glad I don't have to take out the trash or clean toilets! But I am extremely grateful to them for doing so! I really am.

So why are they talking about me in Spanish and then laughing, but won't and/or can't tell me why? Am I being to sensitive about it? And what do I do? If I am extra nice they feel like I'm pitying them. Gah! How do politicians DO this?!?

Manny Being... A Dodger

2008-08-20T12:22:00.005-04:00

Now that the newness of it has worn off a bit, I feel like I can talk about it now...

But really, how freaking weird is it to see him in BLUE?!

Anyway, I knew he was pushing to get traded before the deadline and being as much of an ass as possible, but I really thought the Sox would tell him to sack up and play some freaking ball until the end of October, THEN send him off on his merry way... Maybe I'm just naive, but I really didn't see it coming. Which is why it was so mind blowing to me to see him standing there, all shits-and-grins talking about how he 'lubs Cal-ee-for-nee-ah beddy, beddy much". And like a punch in the gut to see Joe Torre right there with him...

Now I see the games and it's much like seeing an old boyfriend out and about with his new girlfriend. And they look happy together... and they're rubbing it in my face. I feel like he broke up with me and I gotta deal with it.

Granted Jason is proving himself nicely... but he's not Manny. And I know, no one was Pedro or Nomar or Trot, blahblahblah...

I'm getting over it.... and a big 'ol trophy will help me immensely ;-)

Stay Classy, San Diego

2008-08-18T09:41:00.002-04:00

I will have photos soon, but we spent a week in beautiful San Diego with the kids last week. I don't think there's a section we didn't see- Old Town, Downtown, Seaport Village, the Maritime Museum, Petco Park, Gaslamp District, San Diego Zoo, Legoland, Coronado Island and on and on... We went to Solana Beach, Imperial Beach, Del Mar and Mission Beach. We played games at Belmont Park, we had ice cream at the cutest ice cream diner ever and, oh yeah, I damn near broke my ankle.

The first day at the beach I spent the first 2 hours counting to 4- all four kids present and accounted for...over and over and over... then as I finished rubbing Conner down with sunscreen I counted again... 1,2,3... 1,2,3... 1.....2...........3. Where was Matthew? He was no where to be seen and I freaked. I ran to the water, I screamed his name and then everything went into slow motion and I couldn't see straight. It was like seeing underwater.... All I could do was run...right into a hole where I rolled my ankle completely in and landed on it. It hurt, but I couldn't think about anything but Matthew. So I ran...and somehow found the lifegaurd station.

They assured me nothing happened in the water- which I immediately called bullshit on. "The water goes FOREVER- how do YOU know nothing happened in the water???!" So they put out an all points bulletin- little boy, olive green trunks with orange stripes, blonde and tan, missing front tooth. All I could think of was the damn water... he's in the water...

And at bedtime last week when I kissed his face and he asked me "Will I always be in your heart, Mommy?" "Yes, baby, of course... You're my number one guy"

And he was missing...

4, 5, 6 minutes go by. One lifegaurd walked me down the beach and I had to stop to puke. I vaugely realized that I was having a hard time walking fast in the sand.

5 or 6 more minutes passed and she got a call on her radio that they'd found him. NOT in the water, thank blessed gawd, but TWELVE blocks down the beach. He'd gotten disoriented when he came out of the water and of course, couldn't see without his glasses! I hadn't even considered that! I had to wait 3 more long minutes for them to drive my son back

I expected his face to be melting off with tears, but he was fine. "Hi, Mommy... Where were you?"

I carried him back to our spot because I couldn't let go of him and almost fell the whole way. We promptly packed up and headed away from the beach and as soon as the adrenaline stopped pumping, I fell apart. MY face melted off, the ankle blew up to the size of my knee and started turning black.

It was the scariest 15 minutes of my entire life. I don't think I would have been more terrified if someone had been holding a gun to my head. I am still shaken when I think about it.....
But I iced that bitch and wrapped it up like I was going in to fight Rocky. I made it 12 hours at Legoland the next day and 6 hours around the zoo the day after that. No wussy ankle was keeping me down!

We still had a great week with me hobbling all over San Diego and everyone we met was fabulous. The next time we went to the beach, we parked ourselves directly underneath a HUGE red flag and told Matthew "See the GIANT flag? We're UNDER it" and then got him busy digging a trench from our towels to the water... So what the tide came in and ruined it? Start over...and over...aaaaand over. There ya go, son....

It's looking way better now, but in commemoration, here ya go...Pretty, no?

Posts! They are A'Comin'!

2008-08-14T14:23:00.003-04:00

I know its been awhile, but after the whole Manny incident, I couldn't think straight. And then I was in San Diego for a week, then the wheels fell off at work...blahblahblah, excuses, excuses! I know! BUT! I do have plenty to share the least of which is my opinion on Manny playing under...gulp... Joe Torre. I know, I know- everyone has a take. Did he need to go? Maybe. Did I see it coming? Yes. Did I see it coming before the end of this season? Hell to the No, I didn't.

Had fun in Cali, if not for a few not so fun adventures which I will share soon...

Stay tuned!

The Juicebox Sucks

2008-07-23T11:39:00.005-04:00

There. I said it. This post is about a month late, but really, when I save you from going to a sucky ballpark, you'll thank me.

Because I am a Sox girl, I really have no need for the Astros. Or their ballpark. Or Houston, really, but I digress... So when I found out the Sox were coming to town this year, I was excited to see my boys in another park- in my state- for more games this year! Yay me! Happily I headed off to Houston and Minute Maid Park.

The whole 'dome' thing threw me at first, but I figured I would get used to it. So I watched some BP and marveled at how, well, little the park seemed when it was covered. So I take out my ingeniously configured Sox book with already rigged ribbon on a spool and attached Sharpie. I'm out in left field, toss my line over and wait for my first bite. Just as Paps and Javy Lopez are pointing and walking over to sign, some official heads over and grabs and and tells me "Reel it in or lose it, lady." REALLY? Really, Mr. Astros Security Guy? Do you not see Jon and Javy walking this way to sign my book? GAH! So I reeled it up, and Javy and Paps laughed at me.... Dammit.

After BP and the incident with that jerk, I needed an adult beverage. So I walk and walk and walk until I find those foot tall sangrias. Just what the doctor ordered! As I am happily sipping on my drink and I find the entrance to our seats, another 'Stros security man tells me I cannot enter my seating area with alcohol. I have to finish it or throw it away.... even though, yes, they sell alcohol on that floor too.

Because we were 3 minutes from the first pitch, I tried like hell to suck that bitch down, but all I ended up doing was giving myself the worst brain freeze ever experienced by man. I still had to throw half the damn $12 drink away.

By the time I sit down, I'm already not happy, but I am about to see BASEBALL, so I don't care. I'll be fine. Let's do this. I sit down and immediately have to put my sunglasses back on even though I am inside- the glare from the sun through the glass is so bright I can barely see the field! AND had I not been blinded by that, I would have noticed I was surrounded by Astros fans. Mean ones. But I didn't notice that part...yet.

Game on. There are my boys! We are doing great. I'm the only one cheering for my guys in a 10 section radius so I am immediately branded the asshole. I'm getting booed when I stand up and clap. Then the bitch in front of me arrives. And starts talking to a guy a seat over.

And doesn't shut the fuck up for EIGHT INNINGS. Neither one of them saw one pitch, one swing, one catch. Can someone tell me why the hell you would GO to a game if you aren't even going to watch it?

Around inning 5, someone hit a double and I came out of my chair cheering. Talking Bitch leans over to the guy and loudly declares me a "Band waggoner". So I call her out on it. "Do you know the starting line up for the team you aren't watching? Their stats? No? Then shut up before you call people names."

Of course that only made it worse. She just talked louder for 2 more innings before going home.

I asked the person who came with me to go grab a couple hotdogs for us at one point during the game as well. He obliged, knowing that once I'm seated at a game, I don't move. He came back with these hotdogs covered in grilled onions and bell peppers. Wha?! Where I come from, baseball hot dogs means mustard. Maybe ketchup. Wtf is this? He tells me it's all he could find and when he asked the cashier if he he could have it without the vegetables, the guy replied, "This our signature dog. This is how they come."

No hotdog, wasted drink, no autographs, talking assholes all around me.. And I'm in a dome. With no wind, no sky, no place for the poor ball to fly to... I felt like I was watching a play about baseball instead of real baseball starring my favorite boys ever.

We won that Friday game which saved the day for me, but it was the worst game experience I have ever had. The Astros can keep their dome and craptacular hot dogs and their rules. I am SO glad the guys don't go there often- Arligton is so much more beautiful and friendly and open.

Maybe I'm old school. I like my hotdogs with mustard, my liquor in my belly-not in the trash, my players accessible and my baseball outside.

Happiness in Cincy Part 2

2008-07-17T10:59:00.004-04:00

Happiness is WHITE CASTLE for lunch! YUM! Watching Manny be Manny up close and personal,
and seeing your VBF's favorite Ballpark with her...
It is watching Josh Beckett take the mound... Mmmmmm... Josh.
and get himself a big, fat W!
Special thanks again to my friend Christel who makes our adventures so much fun! Next stop? BOSTON!

Happiness in Cincy Part 1

2008-07-16T16:14:00.005-04:00

Seeing Johnny Bench with the Mayor...
and my Dustin
Happiness is seeing boys in the dugout,
Tek and Coco after a 2 run HR, Paps during BP, and being in a dugout with your VBF...

...and ON the field. No REALLY! I'm ON. The. FIELD.
Happiness is being 6 feet away from Mikey...
and above Tek... *sigh*
Happiness is also spying Mr. Beckett in the dugout making faces at fans...

I've got some 'splainin' to do...

2008-07-11T10:54:00.010-04:00

I realize it sounds odd. Girl who lives in Texas...was born in Detroit... has never been anywhere NEAR New England... is a die hard Sox fan and is in love with Boston?

In baseball of course there is always a story. Sometimes its where you grew up or who your parents rooted for, another friend started following the Yankees because it was the closest stadium to him and he got his ass beat if he didn't like them. My VBF inherited her love of the Reds after a divorce from a fan. Ditched the husband- kept the team. That? Is awesome.

My story begins with a boy...er, boys. In 1987, I was 12 years old and became infatuated with New Kids on the Block. They were from Boston and as was my vice at the time, I wrote about them. In fact, I wrote a book. Like any good author that I wanted to grow up to be, I did my research. I spent days in the library looking up information on Boston and looking at pictures. I wrote their Convention and Visitor's Bureau asking for information. They sent me books and maps and coupons... and a Wade Boggs baseball card. Red Sox, huh? Okay. More research. Wade Boggs and his moustache were amazing.Was he cute? not so much to a 12 year old girl who already had her wedding to any of the New Kids all planned out. But he was AWESOME. I counted myself as a Sox fan.

But more than that, I feel in love with the city... The Emerald necklace, the Freedom Trail, the history, Beacon Hill, learning all about the different neighborhoods, the ocean, Newbury Street, Harvard Square. All of it. I wanted to read everything I could get my hands on about it and see as many pictures as possible.

There was some mystique to it...Something so romantic and beautiful and historical andandand.... Not only that, but I LOVED the way the boys sounded. Boys from Boston and their incessantly dropping R's put me through puberty. I still cannot hear it without getting giggly and my knees getting weak.

Of course, years go by, and I went through years not taking ANY notice of the baseball world, put my posters away and wanted to go to BU. I was a budding journalist and decided that was it. I got all the info on the school- pamphlets and brochures, pictures and forms and more forms to fill out. I was ecstatic...but quietly. I was panicked- how the hell would I ever pay for this? I had okay grades, but could I get in? I was in the mess of trying to figure that all out when I got pregnant with my oldest daughter.

And that answered that for me.... Married, kids, work, life...until, of course, another stupid boy reminded me of the Sox and I fell again- HARD.

So I threw myself into baseball. Stats, scores, history and autobiographies... I wasn't born into it, but all four of my children damn sure were.

I am still in love with the city. As much as I have wanted to go and see there had to be a reason or money or time...or someone who gave enough of a crap to go with me. And now all those things have fallen into place and I WILL go...next year. No more excuses or waiting, or planning or dreaming myself into photographs. I will be there breathing in Boston. And crying- there will probably be crying.

I am in awe of fans who were "Born Into It". I usually annoy them with questions of "Did you see this or that game? The All Star Game where they wheeled Ted Williams out? What about when this happened or that?" I've only read about these things- I want to know what they felt like. I want to know what it's like to live where they happen. I always feel a little inadequate- "Oh you're from Texas.." and I feel like I am immediately branded with an invisible "Bandwaggoner" label.

And you know what? Fuck it. Call me what you want. I know who sets her alarm to get up at 5am to watch games from Japan. I know who leaves GameDay up because she is so afraid she'll miss something. And I know who will be the Future Ex-Mrs. Papelbon-Varitek-Beckett-Lowell. And we'll have a beautiful wedding...in Boston... where NKOTB will sing just for us each time...

Rubbing It In...

2008-07-10T09:28:00.002-04:00

.... but just a little, I swear. I don't normally like to do this, because payback is always a bitch, but really- a Sweeping 18-5?!? That's not just a W, that's like an ass-whooping on some of Giambi's leftover 'roids! It's like the boys lined the Twins up, held their hands on the way to take 'em to school, then beat their asses like motherless schoolyard bullies. Did anyone even tell the Twins there was a game yesterday?

Do you have any idea how hard it is to contain that kind of joy at work when corporate is in and you've got Gameday up?! Willing your body to not do your own personal Happy Dance that it instinctively goes to in times such as those? It was painful how difficult that was!

Have a well deserved day off, my boys. Well played.

One a Day...

2008-07-08T11:26:00.004-04:00

So lately everybody I've read is doing this dedicated "X,Y, Z Days of Blogging". And while I hate writing just to say I wrote something, not necessarily anything of substance, I think it might get me over this whole 'whatever I have to say is probably stupid' thing I've been having lately.

So here's what I have to say today, regardless of it's substance:

* I am o-v-e-r planning other people's shit. When the f is someone ever gonna plan something for me? I mean really? Seems like anyone gets knocked up or engaged in this state and a phone call is made to this girl. I do it all day for other people then get hit up for friends and family and strangers too! I seem to remember having the world's Most Craptacular Bachelorette Party Ever and oh yeah, 2 baby showers that none of my actual friends held for me. I don't owe anybody shit. OVER it.

* I hate anyone who drives a racecar whose last name is Busch. A lot. A really lot. Apparently so much that I am avoiding watching NASCAR now because of it. Is this how Gordon haters felt in the late 90s?

* I have always lived by the rule that brown fat looks better than white fat, which is why I like to get a little brown in the summer. But if my butt is the fattest part of me, how the hell am I gonna get THAT part brown without exposing it in the light of day? I look like I am wearing a cream colored bikini when I'm naked!

* I am on day 2 of working 7 days in a row. This blows.

* Can someone PUH-LEEAZE tell me why anytime Josh Beckett picks up a baseball and pitches spectacularly for the Sox the offense takes a nap, but when m-fing Dice-K shows up and threatens to hand the game to the opposing team with a nice big, fluffy bow on it, my boys step up and get HIM a "W"? I mean really... My poor Josh.

* I want Nachos and Mexican Martinis. STAT.

That is all....

Breaking Up is Hard to Do...

2008-06-23T17:44:00.004-04:00

Breaking up is never easy... even if it is with men you've had a very imaginative, pretend relationship with. It still hurts. but the above men have crossed me personally in ways that are unforgivable. So, they are being cut from the ranks of my Pretend Boyfriends. It's sad, really, but then, you could look at it as time to start a new roster! So, without further ado...

Most of you know about Adam & I... We actually broke up a few weeks ago when I saw this, this THING on his head.... AGAIN. The first time I can overlook, but really, this is too much.... I'll miss him and our Thanksgiving/Hanukkah/Red Hooded Sweatshirt songs, but we are o-v-e-r.

Dear, sweet Brad... It will never work if that's how you want to raise my kids once you adopt them. It just won't. We would've been an awesome little Brady Bunch, you and I... what with my 4 and your 6. But whatever. I'm over you and your hotness if you think I'll ever let my kids wear a Yankee hat. I'd rather they grow up to be hookers and garbage men...

Et tu, Brady? Really? When I saw this last year, again, thought it was a joke. But repeatedly, over and over? How could you? Ditching your pregnant girlfriend for some skinny model is one thing. THIS presents an entire different set of issues. No wonder the sports gods saw you unfit for 19-0....

Oh Jeff.... Where do I even begin? I thought after 12 years we could make it through anything together. The wins and losses, the devastating Winston in the Chrome Illusion car, the divorce, your random hookers on the yacht, even the Yankee cap I know you just wore to keep from getting your ass beat when you moved to New York. But partying with Paris Hilton?! At an event you invited her to? Now we have a problem. Stupid is as stupid does, Jeff. And I can't be the next Mrs. Gordon knowing you're cool with hanging with stupid. Maybe on the off chance you totally made fun of her when she walked away, we might have something to fight for. If not.... sigh, I'll miss you the most.

Cincy...

2008-06-19T09:18:00.005-04:00

Pics will have to wait until probably this weekend, but I have lots. Left for the 3 game series on Thursday and got back on Monday. Had an awesome time- fabulous seats and serious eye contact with Tek. Sat in a seat previously occupied by Mr. Josh Beckett and even asked the manager what he had so I could have it too. Yep. My kind of hero worship knows no bounds and cannot be constrained by your definitions of "not cool"....

Sox took 2 of 3- one in a nail biter of an extra inning (which anyone reading this already knows because they were there with me OR they watched all 3 anyway). Went to BP, on a stadium tour and actually made words to our 3rd base coach DeMarlo Hale, met a 60 year old Sox fan who went to 88 games last year and has had Fenway season tickets for 35 years. Spent 3 hours drinking and listening to stories from said man and asked so many questions that I've always wanted to know from guys who were there back in the day... I really think he loved it. That or looking down my dress and oogling my friend as well. Maybe both, but I digress...

I got video footage of Coco trying to start a fight with the Gapper, Cincinnati's fluffy mascot. Not really, just trying to swipe at him from the dugout, but still... What else? Took pictures of Tek from 6 feet above his head when he was in the bullpen warming guys up because he was out of the lineup.

So many other side notes and stories, I think they will end up being posts of their own... But thank you to all of ChaCha's amazing numbers that I met, thank you to Allen from Boston for all the stories, thank you to Dan the tour guide for letting us on the field, Dan the guy in the bar who had us laughing for hours and gave us no less than 3 one liners that will stick forever ("I wanna touch her where she pees!!!"), thank you to my Dad for driving down from Detroit to see me, thank you to Paul, the manager at Rock Bottom Brewery for letting 2 cute girls skip the 2 hour wait and bringing me Josh Beckett nachos. Thank you to the cute boy from San Fransisco for being cute and flirting with ChaCha, and thank you to my boys for an awesome weekend. See you in Houston!

Somewhere in NASCARland....

2008-06-10T15:43:00.002-04:00

Dear Angela,

I can't help but notice the lack of support lately... I don't feel your intense concentration on me every Sunday anymore and my finishes are showing it. I don't know what I've done... okay, maybe you're a little upset about the whole Ingrid thing. I know, I know. I teased you with the divorce, but I just couldn't wait for you anymore. Then the whole baby thing happened, and I knew that would upset you. I swear it was an accident, and yes, I know she would be cuter if she were yours. What can I say?

If I am to ever get this damned 5th championship, I need you back. I know that now. And I'm feeling inadequate knowing I have to compete with the Red Sox for your love and adoration. What do I have to do to win you back? I need you to follow me lap after lap- you were my lucky charm and I was too stupid to notice. I took you for granted and I'm sorry.

Sandler called and told me about the breakup for the Yankee hat thing- he's a mess, btw... and I know you busted me once for the same thing and gave me another chance. I just need one more. Then we'll have another big Championship trophytogether.

Let's do it again for old times sake, okay? I miss you...

Love,

Jeff

Over 500....and Counting

2008-06-03T10:21:00.002-04:00

The Man is a BEAST! A crazy, adorable, hilarious beast.

Well done, sir. Well done.

Really, George Lucas? Really? (Spoiler Alert)

2008-05-29T17:02:00.006-04:00

We met when I was six, Indiana Jones... I saw you at my first drive in movie. It was exciting and scary and awesome. You were everything a good crush after Bo Duke should be. Funny, brilliant, sexy. An archaeologist who goes on adventurous quests and uncovers history. You know, Indian tribes, cups of Christ, lost civilations...

NOT- I repeat, NOT ALIENS!!!!!!!

Seriously? I'm into this new movie and oh-so-excited to see my Harrison Ford up there onscreen again, I am smiling and getting goosebumps when at last we see the hat and hear the song, "Da-da-dum-dum-dum dee Dummm" and then out of no where I get hit with The Skull. Of course I knew the movie was about the crystal skull. I'm thinking ancient skull that we have to find and put inside an old grave so that a tomb of wonderous ancient riches magically opens up for our hero...but noooooooo...

Really? Could it look more plastic and filled with irradescent cellophane? And then I realize, oh shit... It looks like an alien head. They wouldn't, they couldn't... Not my Indy...

But they did. Complete with the damn silver flying saucer. There are things in this world you don't mix. Yankee fans and smart people, maragritas and lima beans, Indiana-fing Jones and ALIENS?! Come on George! WTF Stephen Speilberg?

So I left the theatre let down and pissed off. If I had wanted to see War of the Worlds, guess what I would have watched??? Indy needs to kick their asses for this one. But do try again guys, because Indiana Jones just can't go out like that.

499!

2008-05-28T12:55:00.003-04:00

A beauty of a shot... Too bad we lost anyway. We'll be celebrating the big 500 before the weekend. GO MANNY! I will see you in 2 weeks, baby!

Perseverance

2008-05-20T12:21:00.005-04:00

If you look that word up in the dictionary today, this is the picture you should see.

Jon Lester's no hitter last night was magical. If by magical you also mean a sweating, pacing, nail biting last 3 innings ending in shrieks of joy and tears over seeing men become emotional...than yes... magical.

I stayed up extra late and watched all the post game interviews and dammit if I don't just love Tek more and more everyday. So he's the first catcher in history to ever catch 4 no hitters, but he doesn't care. He just kept saying "This is his night- his night. I'm just lucky to be a part of it."

Congrats, Jon. Job well done. It's good to know that there are still heroes in baseball... and they're on my team.

FINALLY!

2008-05-16T10:48:00.003-04:00

Well, well, well...

So almost 17 years ago, I saw my NKOTB boys perform for the last time. But even then, I KNEW it wouldn't be the last. They stopped putting CDs out, I started to grow up and have a sex life, but I never forgot them. I pulled out the old tapes (yes, I said tapes- shut up) whenever I needed a quick pick me up. If I heard any of them mentioned on anything, I tried to pay attention.... So I got married and had babies- so did they. But I still could never make myself throw away the magazines, the concert programs, the trading cards....or the book I wrote for them. I am 33 years old and have had boxes of old NKOTB merchandise stowed away for safe keeping since I was 16 years old.

And I never gave up. I always knew this day would come. Somewhere in my heart I knew that they wouldn't- nay, couldn't disappoint me!

And they didn't.

Today my boys performed together for the first time publicly on the Today Show.

To a PACKED audience....in Times Square.

They said it was the largest crowd they'd ever gotten for this concert series.

So I stood in my high heels in the lobby of the hotel I work at with my Catering Manager title and watched it all unfold- and cried like a 13 year old little girl. I am SO happy and giddy. They were amazing and funny and adorable and...perfect. They have grown into such handsome men and I feel so proud.

Listening to them talk reminded me of how long ago my deep seated love affair with Boston and the accent began. Dear gawd, of course I can't keep myself together for a boy who drops his R's!!!! These are the boys who shaped me during puberty!

I truly think if I could see them perform in Boston...maybe after a Sox game... my head would implode with joy. Because a person just can't take that kind of happy.

All ye be prepared... they will come to Texas. And when they do... it's ON!

Face of the Future

2008-05-12T11:50:00.007-04:00

See that boy up there? That is a future MVP, people. He plays first or third base, hits anything on a tee and uses his bat to knock the dirt off his shoes like Tek. He wants to hit like Papi and catch like Youk. His stats aren't so intimidating yet at 4 ft. 1 inch and 60 lbs, but he's getting there. He spent his birthday weekend playing ball and loved it. His team placed 2nd in the league again and he was sad to see the season end.

Happy 7th Birthday, Matthew, and congrats on a great season. I love you SO much...

From your biggest fan,

~Mommy

Really, Alex Rodriguez? Really?

2008-05-07T15:14:00.004-04:00

File this one under the "Seriously?" catagory, ladies and gents. A-Rod and his wife have announced the name of their second daughter who was born April 21st. Are you ready?

Ella Alexander Rodriguez.

It gets better. Because I was unaware of their FIRST daughters name........

Natasha Alexander Rodriguez.

No, for REAL. Two GIRL babies with the same middle name... the same name of their Captain Douchebag father. Wtf, A-Rod? Who do you think you are, George Foreman?

You really have to feel a little bad for those girls- even if they will be raised in a solid gold mansion with diamond encrusted rattles.

497!

2008-05-07T10:44:00.001-04:00

I was half-heartedly holding out hope he'd either:

A: Hit 500 at home so Fenway could explode with people who would appreciate the feat or

B: By some miracle, he'd wait until the Cincinnati series so I could be there to cry like a little girl.

I doubt either of those will happen with only 3 to go, but it will still be awesome to see....

I Heart Youk...and his Beard of Doom

2008-05-05T12:01:00.001-04:00

There. I said it.

now suck on THAT, Florida.

Know Thyself

2008-04-25T16:51:00.003-04:00

You know what I like about me? I know who I am and who I want to be. I recognize I change all the time, but generally I know what direction in life I'm headed and the kind of image I like to reflect. I like to be thought of as classy, elegant, sophisticated. Maybe sexy as fuck on occasion, but "classy" sexy...

Lately I've called all that into question because I felt lacking. Like there was something wrong with me. Like maybe if I wore different clothes or more make-up or had bigger boobs, things would be different... I would have things I thought I wanted.

But after some reflection lately, I came to a realization.... I am just fine.

Just because I am tall does NOT mean I need to wear flats and slouch to make some man feel bigger than me. You know what it does mean? It means I have legs from here to the sky and in heels they are AWESOME. If a man is intimidated by me, that's his issue.

Just because I have smaller boobs doesn't mean I need to be self conscious and feel less worthy than women who have huge tits. It DOES mean that mine are perky and cute and will not be at my knees in 15 years. It means I have had 4 kids and still have nice ass cleavage that, TRUST ME, still gets attention. It means I buy stock in push up bras and that I ROCK the hell out of them.

Nope. I am not 21 anymore. I am 33 and you couldn't PAY my ass to redo those years. You know why? 21 years old are stupid. I was even a little stupid. Not stupid enough to go ghetto and cover myself in ridiculous, trashy tattoos kind of stupid, but I thought I had it all figured out. Being 33 means I can have grown up conversation. I am not limited to what I saw on Entertainment Tonight or the newest club music. I can talk to you knowledgeably about politics, religion, economy, current events and a plethora of other topics. AND I also know every word to Beastie Boys Paul Revere and Brass Monkey. I know every line in Princess Bride and Billy Madison. You don't get that kind of variety in an idiot 21 year old with pink tipped nails and drawn on eyebrows. You just don't.

I am sure you get alot of other valuable information from that kind of girl. You can learn how to jack a car, get money from a "Baby Daddy", how many shots you can take from 7-11pm before puking, how to shank someone and make a shiv. You can witness awesome drama and temper tantrums! All valuable, interesting subject matter.

If that's what you're into.

And if that's what you're into, of course you don't want me. Of course! And the best part of all this realization is that I realized that if that is what you're into.... I don't want you either.

I Heart Josh Beckett

2008-04-18T14:25:00.005-04:00

There are no less than 117 things I love about Josh Beckett. They start with "He's awesome" and end with "No for real, REALLY, really, badass-awesome." In between, numbers 17-30 are body parts and 32-78 are moments of games where he has proven over and over again why he deserves my adoration. At least 30 more are quotes he's given that really just make me laugh or smile, or grin because I know if he weren't on my team, it would strike fear in my heart and make me pee my pants everytime I had to face him.

You'd think once you get to 100, these things would start repeating themselves, but with Josh, they don't. The list just continues to grow. One of my all-time favorie Beckett quotes is “I make too much money to play a game I love to ever feel sorry for myself.” Stuff like that makes me so proud to be a fan. These little gems from last night are hystierical:

On Manny's TWO homeruns off of Mike Mussina at Skankee Stadium:

"I didn't even see it," said Beckett. "I was like, 'Where did it go?' Everyone was like, 'It went about 15 rows up.' It was such a line drive. He's pretty ridiculous. He almost hit a third one, too."

On lasting 8 innings against New York:

"I think the most important thing is executing pitches," Beckett said. "If you're not executing pitches, you're not going to get to eight innings."

No shit, Sherlock. Sometimes I think he talks to the media like they're 5 years old because he's tired of their retard questions...

Bitch Slapped by the Flu

2008-04-17T15:48:00.004-04:00

Dude. I got my ass kicked for a week straight. By this thing called "The Flu". In my 33 years, I had never encountered The Flu, much less learned first hand the evil she can inflict.

I know now.

I was fine when I woke up last Tuesday. Lalala...Uh oh. Headache? Achy? Tired? Eyes burning? These were just the beginning... It was bad, people. Bad and not very pretty either. Sometimes the universe gives you a hint that you need to slow the hell down and sometimes the universe finds a way to body slam your ass into submission.

So I had several days to plan what could only be my death... And when I was being a little less dramatic, I had time to think about life and things and how they'd all be different if only I could make it through this horrible, awful sickness... (I was ready for my damn Make A Wish, but lo and behold the Sox never did turn up at my doorstop)

Then I found out it wasn't just the flu, that has turned into bronchitis which was trying to turn into pneumonia. NICE. As my friend ChaCha said, "Thats my girl! If you're gonna do that shit, you're gonna do it right!" So now that I have been on the right medication and see the light at the end of the tunnel and know I probably won't die this time, I am starting to feel much better.

Guess the moral of the story is get a flu shot. And that I need to send another copy of my Make A Wish letter in- because clearly those bitches don't work quickly...

Correction!

2008-04-06T14:19:00.003-04:00

After photographic evidence by the photographers who were covering the Cap 10k came to my attention, I corrected my story about my finish. I just wanted to let you all know that I ACTUALLY finished in 1 hour, 17 minutes and 5 seconds. Once I go ahead and spend the $17 for a copy of that picture, trust me, you'll ALL see it ;-)

WOOOOOO!!!!!

Steak and Wine at Joe's

2008-04-01T16:12:00.008-04:00

As I eluded to a few weeks ago, I have a new favorite restaurant and I feel the need to share. You may or may not know, I am a huge fan of the steak and red wine combo.. HUGE fan. And had been dying for it for awhile when my birthday rolled around. We went to a new place in Austin called Joe DiMaggio's Italian Chophouse. Of course normally, I would never enter the establishment of such a beloved Yankee, however I felt that since he had a brother who was a beloved Red Sox player, it justified going....

It was awesome. We stepped into the restaurant and were immediately seated in a huge high back, curved leather booth. There were black and white pictures of Joe, Marilyn and Dom all over the walls. A pianist was playing and an amazing singer was crooning "Inseparable". Sigh... I melted into my leather booth and ordered the house Cab. We started with a jumbo shrimp cocktail that arrived to the table in a cloud of dry ice. I ordered a fillet medium rare with potatoes and veggies. All were perfection. It wasn't just the wine that was intoxicating. Steak, wine, leather, crooning, baseball photos, dim lighting, perfect service... I was SO cozy and didn't want to leave.

It really isn't crazy expensive if you don't have the big steaks. There is delicious looking pasta and seafood as well. And they have a BEAUTIFUL patio with a fire pit to relax out on underneath a huge oak tree in the Domain. I got to walk pass Tiffany's too!!!! I would love to go again... who's in?!

I DID IT!!!!

2008-03-31T11:04:00.006-04:00

I started running shortly after Conner was born in hopes of losing the baby weight I gained with him (okay AND his 3 older siblings, but whatever). So I saw all these expensive diet programs and pills and whatever and figured I could spend crazy amounts of money that way and hope it worked, or I could spend $800 on a treadmill and get my ass in gear and have no one to blame but me.

At first I would spend 20 minutes walking and be exhausted. Then I started jogging. I loathed it, but wanted to get my moneys worth out of that damn machine. Slowly I started to enjoy it. It was 30 minutes a day that was for ME. I couldn't take care of anyone while I was running. No one could ask me to get a sippy cup of milk or crackers, change a diaper or do a load of laundry. I could think my own thoughts without being interrupted (for the most part) or even watch TV if I angled it right.

Over the past 4 years I have slowly built up to running 3 miles at a time. I am proud of that because I have never considered myself athletically inclined. I always wanted to be, but circumstances kept me from finding out if I could be when I was younger. But I really think I could've been. Besides being super competitive, I like how good it makes me feel.

So I set a goal for myself last year. i really wanted to run the Capitol 10k here in Austin. I wanted to prove to myself I could do it. Of course life gets in the way and kids schedules, so I didn't get to last March. This past fall when drinking with coworkers, the gauntlet was thrown and I got a little mouthy about how awesome I would do if I really did it. 6.24 miles- a lot of it uphill. So the challenge was accepted and I was signed up for this past Sunday's race.

I have slowly trained myself at home and then on a course in the park with my 13 year old daughter for the past 6 months. Saturday I had to work until 11:30 and didn't get to bed until almost 1am. A lot of people punked out and said they weren't going- I even got the free pass excuse "Don't go- no one will blame you." But I would've blamed myself. So Sunday morning, I got my tired ass out of bed and headed to the race.

If you've never seen photos of the Cap 10k before, please do so. It is an amazing sight to see Austin streets shut down for the parade of over 30,000 runners. It was raining, so my friend B and I felt very hard core.

We ran 10 minute miles for the first 3 miles and then I started backsliding. i told her to go ahead because those hill were kicking my ass. Because oh yeah, I NEVER use the incline on my treadmill for a reason. IT HURTS.

I finished in 1hour, 17 minutes and 5 seconds- an average of 6 12 minute miles. I crossed the finish line with no one taking pictures of me and no one congratulating me. Except the girl inside me who was crying because I was so happy and so proud of myself. And THAT. That is what made it all more than worth it.

I am sore- so sore today. But it's a good kind. Its the kind that keeps reminding me that I did it!

Manny in Japan

2008-03-25T17:44:00.001-04:00

You bitches all wish you had someone this good! HA!

Good Morning Sox Fans!

2008-03-25T14:51:00.005-04:00

HAPPY OPENING DAY!!!!

According to some sources, it's not really opening day until you play in this country. Or until her team plays. I, however, count any day as opening day when I get up at 5 am to watch my Red Sox play in Japan for the first game of the season that counts!

And of course, you know we KICKED OAKLAND'S ASS! WOOOO!!!

I wish I could've been in Boston with all the die hards at the Cask-n-Flagon. I wish I could turn the guy above around to see how hot he is and make him drop his R's at me. I wish I had someone to give high five's to. I'll settle for being very grateful that ESPN has these games televised for me.

It's a great way to start the season. Sox at 5am, a win by 9am and thoughts of hot boys with accents the rest of the day...

GO SOX!

March 23rd

2008-03-24T15:23:00.004-04:00

I have THE best friends ever. Not only are they totally okay to take a night out for me and drink with me, I have some that will take 2. They will play darts with me and laugh with me and even take me to a StripClub. They will eat cake with me, drink wine with me and even buy me prizes. I am surrounded by THE BEST.

I got text messaged with birthday wishes, phone calls and cards. My very own personal father even remembered the ACTUAL day of- which is no small feat. It was awesome. Thank you to everybody that sang a song on the phone, gave me a hug or just made a point to let me know they knew it was my birthday... and Easter. But who cares about stinky Easter anyway? ;-)

*P.s. The above photo was taken at Joe DiMaggio's where they too gave me a treat. And ohhhh... you know this girl has a new favorite restaurant. It was uh-may-zing and totally worth its own blog...coming soon.

Fading to Black

2008-03-18T10:04:00.002-04:00

So this is the part where I realize an ending, admit defeat and slowly back away. I'll be there the first few times you look back, just getting smaller and smaller in your rear view. But just when you've kept your eyes on the road in front of you for a while, you'll look up and I'll be gone. And maybe for a minute you'll wonder what could've been...but probably not.

I don't do drama well. And I certainly suck at the game playing of younger girls who've been single and had the luxury of learning those toying nuances. This is just kind of how I do it. But make no mistake, once it's done, it is d-o-n-e. I am too stubborn to make guest appearances. And I damn sure do not crawl back with my tail between my legs.

Enjoyed the movie.... Roll credits.

Weekend Update

2008-03-10T10:23:00.003-05:00

Special thanks go out to our friend W.I.O. for acquiring tickets to the Dropkicks show Friday night for ChaCha and I. I freaking love it when a plan comes together- even if it is at the last minute! They are such an awesome group to listen to. You can't NOT have fun when you hear them. And all the Sox attire in the crowd only made the night better. How cool is it that I got to see in person boys who played and danced with Jonathan Papelbon after winning a World Series? For real...

My little man is becoming quite the baseball player, fyi. He played first base for 2 innings at his Tball game Saturday and won the Game Ball! Little League is so much fun- especially when they get to this age where they finally get it! Hell yes, that's MY boy!

Saturday was also the Little Girl's 9th birthday so we had a Slumber Party complete with 9 girls, sleeping bags, nail polish, puffy paint and pizza. I was overwhelmed by the pinkness of it all, but luckily they adore 13 year olds, so Big Girl & Friend got to entertain and be worshiped for awhile.

Jeff still didn't win this weekend (but 5th isn't too shabby), I still have no baseball to watch, so I rented Gone Baby Gone and SuperBad (Hilarious!) and took the tribe out for dinner.

Must continue to keep myself too busy to think....

Breathing...

2008-03-05T10:49:00.002-05:00

There are some days that you get out of bed and just know- There is no way that that particular day will end without tequila.

Then there are days where for 24 hours you just have to remind yourself to breathe in... breathe out. And if you can make it a whole 24 hours doing just that... well, than the day was a success.

Of course I am fine. Have you MET me? Fine is my middle name. Along with Bad MutherFucker.

Now... Back to breathing.

Denver

2008-03-03T15:16:00.005-05:00

One word...

Wow.

Billy is awesome and I heart him. Just being in his presence kind of had me speechless. He was amazing and funny and heartbreakingly perfect. The show was everything I thought it would be and more. If you ever have the means, I highly recommend going. The dude is no spring chicken and gawd only knows how long he'll be able to blow the roof off the house like that for 3+ hours now that he's pushing 60. But he is a genius. A classic. A-mazing.

Also went to Coors Field and saw the sight of the World Series Massacre of 2007. More than anything I wanted to see if the Visitors locker room was still sticky from Red Sox champagne, but I figured they wouldn't want me to know if it was. I got a glimpse of the corner of the mound that Paps jumped off of to catch Tek and that gave me goosebumps in itself.

It was good to escape reality for a weekend. But damned if reality doesn't have a way of beating the shit out of you when you get back...

Can't...Focus...Seeing...Billy...One...More...Day

2008-02-27T13:59:00.002-05:00

Oh my gawd, could this day be any longer?!?!?!!?! I get on a plane in 23 hours from right now... Billy will be singing to ME (only me!) in 30 hours from this VERY MINUTE! How can I possibly be expected to work under these conditions?

Seriously!

I have done laundry, folded stacks to be packed, organized makeup bag, bought tiny shampoo, conditioner, body wash, mouthwash and face soap. I have printed out my boarding pass, made a file containing all my confirmation numbers, passes, tickets and travel documents along with printing out menus to restaurants I might want to eat at while in the Mile High City. I have done all the 'new stuff' shopping I can do, gotten a haircut, a mani and a pedi! I. Am. Ready.

Now, what kind of trouble can I get into while waiting this insufferable 23 hour wait?!?!

Start Your Engines!

2008-02-15T14:47:00.003-05:00

I swear, Florida is just THE most awesome place to be this month. If it's not my BoSox Boys decending upon Ft. Myers for Spring Training, it's the beginning of Speedweeks for my NASCAR boys capped off by the 50th running of the Daytona 500 on Sunday! WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

It is time for the return of buring rubber, gasoline and revving engines. It is time for bump and runs, tempers flaring, and Kurt Busch ass-whipping. I can't wait for the return of NASCAR commercials featuring my boys, on and off track rivalries, and Tony Stewart's ever increasing girth. This is the year for Jeff's 5th Cup- I can feel it! (Technically, I stand by my former statements and claim he has really won 6 already that were stolen from him by NASCAR Asshats and their 'executive decisions' to change everything about the sport)

This is not the race to watch if you are new to NASCAR. It is long and positions change every half a lap. There will be wrecks, but most of the time this race is a 3 hour long chess match that is only for the devout. We understand why it is a big friggin deal that soemone had to change engines or someone didn't pit on cycle. We get it. It's a racing thing... You wouldn't understand. For you newbies who I am trying to bring to the fold and show the beauty that is stock car racing, wait for Bristol. No one can watch that race and not get the bug. And once you've been bitten, you will never be the same.

So bring on the anthem, the fly-over, the hot dog smell mixed with tires burning, and the cars so loud you have to scream to hear your own thoughts! Bring on the boys in driving suits! It's been 3 whole months and Mama has missed you!!!!!

A word from the Papelbomber...

2008-02-14T16:53:00.003-05:00

"Spring training's always fun," Papelbon said. "Spring training is a time to relax, at the same time start getting ready for the season. I always get excited. Just on the way down here, you know, driving and stuff, you think about what happened last year, going out there and doing it again. You turn the radio up loud. You cruise. It's always a fun time of the year for me."

Ya'll pardon me... I'm gonna get my shoes on and get outta here. I feel the overwhelming urge to take a road trip to Florida and find myself a wicked awesome closer out there driving fast and singing loud!

The Boys are Back in Town!

2008-02-14T11:24:00.003-05:00

It smells like spring time, baby, because Red Sox pitchers and catchers reported today! They're unloading the trucks, dusting off the bags and restriping the fields!

IT'S TIME FOR SOME BASEBALL!!!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Accosted at the Wal-Mart

2008-02-11T17:24:00.000-05:00

Can someone tell me why I need to mentally brace myself to enter or exit Wal-Mart now?

It has become increasingly clear that I may never get to enter or exit the damn store without forming a game plan to fend off all manner of people who want my money and are pissed off that I won't give it.

From the frickin' Girl Scouts to the Salvation Army, to the religious people asking me to donate for a church or so and so's hospital bills.

DUDE! I am shopping at Wal-Mart. If I had any GD extra money to just toss away to any Joe Schmoe with a sob story would I BE HERE???

For REAL! I get that you're a Girl Scout Mom, but do you really need to pimp out your freckled face 6 year old to score 5 bucks for a boxa cookies? Do they prep those little bitches and tell them to frown and pout when you say no? What about the poor diabetics that you are KILLING by turning them into suckers for a box of Thin Mints???

And you, Austin American Statesman bastard, YES I am lying when I tell you "I already get it", but your snide little, "Are you sure?" is completely unwarranted. There is a REASON I am booking it past you at 20 miles an hour- Don't fucking ask me if you already KNOW I'm going to say no! And if you have a problem with how people treat you, how about getting a better fucking job where you don't have to annoy people outside the m.f'ing WAL-MART all day, hmmmmm???

But the most loathesome, the most terrifying of all these is that asshole who sells his Jesus inspired wood and nail driven crosses. "Don't you love Jesus?" he says. I try really hard to smile and nod litke the mindless retard he takes me for, but them he has to call at my back "See you when you come out!" Now I know that asshole is waiting for me and he has ruined my entire shopping experience. So I spend the whole time wheeling around the store wondering if Mr. Sneaky Jesus Guy has moved to another door knowing I'll try to avoid him... Does he think I KNOW that he KNOWS that I KNOW he's goign to do that so he'll stay put?! It's so much pressure!

So I go out the same door I came in and there he is "I been waiting for ya!" "Sorry- not interested!" I yell as I pedal that cart, hop up on the bar and cruise to my car praying oncoming traffic will dodge me. I think I am victorious.

Until I get home.

And realize... I have forgotton the TP.

SUPAH BOWL!

2008-02-02T10:31:00.000-05:00

For the first time, I am TOTALLY into this game for something other than Fat Kid Food and new commercials. I am EXCITED about it and can't wait!

Is it all about seeing Tom Brady? No. Well, that's a big perk... BUT it's actually about the game. After becoming a Pats fan by proxy (Sox fan, Fitzy fan, Tom Brady fan) I have watched them shoot for this perfect season all year. I have had the fights and defended "Spygate" with my Jersey coworker who (of course) loves the Giants and is giving me the "asterisk in the history books" speech.

Screw you, Jersey! If you can be this new kind of awesome under the huge ass microscope the Pats have been under all year, you just ARE that good. Tom is just that awesome. Randy is COVERED in awesome sauce and our buddy Bill? Served with a big 'ol side of awesome.

You know what else I love about this game? (Yes, besides Tom and his smile...and that chin. *sigghhhhh*) I love the betting! Not just the money on odds kinda betting either. The pools at work, the sexual favors being bet upon, the putting anything on the line for a game you cannot control at all. Going on in every town, in every state at the same time.

I love the excuse to drink on Sunday...

I DO love the commercials...

And the Tom Petty...

And oh yes, believe me... I heart the Fat Kid Food too.

Bring On The Man Band!

2008-01-29T11:17:00.000-05:00

So if this: http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,20174022,00.html is true, my greatest wish is coming true after all these years. Let me make this very clear:

Hell.

Yes.

I have been waiting YEARS for this! I cannot fully express my love for these boys. Just know it began when I was but a 13 year old girl who learned new feelings when these boys came into my life. I still have all my NKOTB stuff, I still have all the words memorized, I still listen to the Merry, Merry Christmas album every holiday season.

I LOVE them with a passion that has only intensified as I've become a woman, a mother... a 32 year old woman that can now become what she couldn't be before...

A groupie who Puts Out!!!

I'd like to thank...

2008-01-23T20:52:00.002-05:00

ChaCha for the wicked awesome new graphic for my little bloglette. If you are ever in need of something fancy and cool that you LOVE, she's the girl to beg and make cute faces at.

Fo REAL!

Could that be any hotter??

Looking forward...

2008-01-17T09:23:00.000-05:00

With all the craziness of the holidays now behind me and this big 'ol year to fill, I need to take baby steps and find little things to look forward to to keep me up. So here are the next 10 things I have to look forward to:

1.) Going out this weekend with ChaCha for Official Booty-Shaking Night
2.) My Jeff being on Regis and Kelly on Friday
3.) Being off on Monday with my kids
4.) Hard Hat Tours and Party at work
5.) Going Cotillion dress shopping with Megan
6.) Renovation milestones (I get the granite counter tops in my rooms next week!)
7.) Planning Conner's Birthday Party
8.) Getting Megan ready for Cotillion and taking no less than 900 pictures
9.) Taking Megan for her Duke University SAT (she's a damn genius- don't ask)
10.) A Haircut

That gets me through the end of the month.. If I just concentrate on Awesome Cincy Trip in June, I will never make it. I can't count down days until The Boys are Back In Town (and by that, I think we ALL know what day the Boys are supposed to report for Spah-ring Tah-raining!!!!) Because we all know that's what the year is all about!

Coming up I will have a SuperBowl date with my Tom Brady to look forward to as well...

There has been testing going on down in Daytona... but we still have a month left for the Big Show.

Totally CrepeTacular, Not CrapTacular!

2008-01-16T17:26:00.000-05:00

So the actual trailer was a little questionsable at first. I didn't go to pick up lunch, but I had my crack team of investigators sending me photos. I'm told it was actually really cute with the picnic tables and such.

I got the Roasted Chicken with Mushrooms, Caramelized Onions and Gruyere. And I am here to tell you... It was awesome. Totally worth $6.50. The side salad that I got with it was eh.. A little bit of lettuce and 3 slices of tomato- but the Balsamic Vinaigrette? To Die For. One of my cohorts had the Cuban Crepe that actually beat Mr. Flay and she said it was wonderful. I wouldn't know- we were all savoring our lunches and totally forgot to share. She said it was very spicy with the Tabasco, but I happen to LOVE the spicy, so I'm sure the Cuban and I have a date in a week or so.

We tried the Brownie Crepe which, in my opinion, was nothing exciting. It was a good brownie and all, but the crepe proved to be a wet wrapper for it. Not recommended for brownie or Crepe lovers. We also tried the Cinnamon Sugar Crepe. Very tasty. It was filled with cream cheese and toasted coconut and topped with almonds. I do have to say though, because they don't fill it, there was a lot of superfluous crepe...

As far as little Austin dives, it gets an A+. To quote a coworker, "I'm so glad these weren't craptacular after all that!"

CrepeTastic Wednesday!

2008-01-15T12:20:00.000-05:00

So I come in to work Monday morning and one of my coworkers is frantically searching the internet for something... I asked if I could help and she tells me that we MUST find the crepe place that beat Bobby Flay in an episode of Throwdown here in Austin. All we know is they don't have a restaurant and they make and sell these savory and sweet concoctions from a silver trailer somewhere.

Now she has my attention. You say "Bobby Flay" and you always have my undivided attention. So she searches Food Network, finds the Throwdown website and starts searching episodes. I am googling "crepe...throwdown...austin". My office is a grueling research facility. We must find where these crepes are!

Victory! The name of the place is Flip Happy Crepes. They are THREE miles away! We promptly printed out their menu and salivate over the Cuban Crepes with pulled pork, the Roasted Chicken with Mushroom with Gruyere and caramelized onions, the Spinach, Feta and Roasted garlic Crepe. And that's not even Dessert Crepes! They have a Brownie Crepe with dark chocolate sauce and Chantilly cream, a Cinnamon Sugar Crepe with toasted coconut and cream cheese and Fruit Crepes!!!

People are poking their heads into the office and asking us what's going on, so we have to tell each of them the story... "Bobby Flay...Throwdown...Austin...Crepes...LUNCH!" So the whole office is excited.

And then we see....

They are only open Wed.-Fri. So our Crepetastic Lunch will have to wait TWO WHOLE DAYS!

So all day yesterday and today we all all crepe obsessed. We cannot wait. We have spent time looking over the menu and deciding who will get what and give a bite to who. We have built these crepes up and put them on a pedestal. For gawd's sake- they beat BOBBY FLAY!!! You don't just beat Bobby Flay with some regular, everyday crepe!

So the countdown is on! 24 hours until CrepeTastic Wednesday! I'll let you know how they are!

Tagged

2008-01-14T12:51:00.000-05:00

Here’s how it works: Link to the person that tagged you:

Christel, and she'd have to link herself because I'm a technical r-tard.

Post the rules for the meme on your blog. And here they are:Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself on your blog, tag 7 (or so) random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Since I have done this one once or twice, I tried to think of a few things you all don't already know... And it proved a good excuse to blog as I suffer from a blockage of material viewable by the public lately...

1.) I memorize what all 4 of my kids are wearing in the morning before they leave for school or daycare so that if anything ever happens and the police need to know, I will be able to describe in detail what I last saw them in. Morbid, perhaps... But I saw the movie Adam at a young age and it scared the shit out of me.

2.) I have an unhealthy attachment to Rod Stewart. My father listened to him a lot when I was a small kid and looks a little like him as well, so I decided they must be brothers. At 5, he became my Uncle Rod. When I went several years with no contact with my dad, he became my connection to my dad. I still cry when I hear Forever Young. Can't help it. Yes, I am gay. Suck it.

3.) I cannot eat Ramen Noodles. If I were starving to death and on my deathbed, I would still not eat Ramen Noodles. To me, it is like eating turds. Had them every damn day for almost a year when my family was buh-roke ass. Lived in a trailer with no electricity cooking Ramen-effing-Noodles over a can of sterno. Now the smell of them makes me want to vomit.

4.) I like my wrists and ankles. (Okay, other than the weak, bust my ass every five minutes part of my ankles) They are the only cute, tiny body parts I have (that you can see publicly-HA!)

5.) I am addicted to very few things in life, but there are a few that given one hit of, I am possessed till there's no more. These include anything that starts with D and ends in "oritoes", Sam's Choice Cajun Snack Mix (that whole 26 serving per bag thing is a bunch of crap- thats only if you are serving anorexic elves!) and chips and salsa. (Duly noted that yes, I may have a sodium issue)

6.) I watch reeeally bad TV shows while I'm on the treadmill. I figure if I'm going to watch trash, I better pay penance by running my ass off during it. Make Me a SuperModel, Intervention, Housewives of Orange County, The Girls Next Door- I am watching all this drivel and loving every painful mile of it lately!

7.) Old people scare me and I avoid them. Not like regular old people, but like OLD, OLD people. The kind you can't understand and cry and don't know who anyone is? That kind. I know. Straight to hell.

And because the name of the game is "Tagged", if you read this, consider yourself IT, Bitches!

Happy New Year

2008-01-02T11:39:00.000-05:00

But there will not be much in the way of resolutions for this girl. This new year is so questionable that it scares me. But I'm excited too. Who knew on January 2nd of last year what 2007 would bring me? An amazing Spring Training visit to Ft. Myers that I will never forget, a crazy fun, pool-playing, drinking-Jager-till-I-passed-out-but-not-before-having-sex-in-the-front-seat-of-my-car birthday party, a visit from my sisters that went horribly wrong, my babies getting bigger and more beautiful, adventures with my friends, my career actually going somewhere, A WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONSHIP for my Sox??? Who knew?!

So I am excited to see what kind of trouble this year can bring me. A vacation to CINCY to see my boys, perhaps a move, perhaps not. Maybe a divorce? Maybe hope of staying together in something not resembling misery??? The possibilities are endless. Bring 2008 on!

Turkey Day

2007-11-22T20:27:00.000-05:00

The first tradition we have for Thanksgiving in our household is the annual "Turkey Dive" wherein we all go shopping for our turkey and all but climb into the turkey bins in search of the biggest bird we can find at that particular location. Anything less than 20 pounds is automatically tossed back. It's just bragging rights on the line if you are the one who finds the biggest bird, but the way my kids and I go at, you'd think there was money involved...

So this years Tom Turkey weighed in at 22.3 pounds- and I was the winner! Not that we needed a bird that big- we weren't having any company other than my friend ChaCha, but I wouldn't know how to cook anything smaller. I was again reminded of this fact as I finished making a vat of mashed potatoes that could feed an army and a boy band.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized I do this every year. Since I have been making Thanksgiving since I was 17, it's the only way I know how. Even when I had one child. I cook the same dishes with only a few changes (fresh green beans instead of moms canned ones, homemade cranberry relish instead of canned cranberry ala sauce, for example) and remember the stories behind who liked which best growing up. I still make gross yams because they were my sisters favorite, I have to have Lipton Onion soup mix French Onion Dip with Ruffles because it's what my mom let us snack on until it was time for dinner.

In short, I'm cooking for ghosts. I am cooking for the siblings who haven't shared this holiday with me in over 10 years, for my mom who is gone, for all the family I wish I had to share this day with and don't. It's my way. It's what I do. I won't cry about it, but I will cook the hell out of that 30 pound turkey I hope to find someday.

If you ever need a place to go for Turkey Day, please stop by. I always have more than enough- and you know I'm going to be sick of turkey reeeeal soon.

Dear Fat Cat, Sell-Out NASCAR Execs....

2007-11-12T14:15:00.000-05:00

Dear NASCAR,

First of all, it is bulls%#* that I even have to write this letter. The fact that this bitch wasn't officially locked up weeks ago is ridiculous. How do you decide to just up and change the points system on a sport after 50 some odd YEARS? All the stats for the veterans, the founders of that sport, are under one system. How can you change the record books like this because people say they're bored? WTF? If an NFL team went undefeated and kicked every one's asses through a whole season AND the Super Bowl do you think they'd change the system?!?! GAH!

Under the true NASCAR points system, Jeff Gordon would not only have already hoisted his 5th cup, but locked this 6th one up 2 weeks ago!!! And as a Jeff Gordon endorser (and by that I mean #1 fan) I call BULLSHIT on NASCAR for this rewriting of records. For selling out to the friggin phone companies that are changing the name of the GD cup every year, (Yes, bitches, we went from Winston Cup to NEXTEL Cup to Sprint Cup next year) for not cherishing the history of this sport, for growing it into something it was never meant to be. You have turned your back on the fans, you have eliminated the heart and soul and you have negated the traditions that have made you the rich fat cat assholes you are.

It's been coming awhile- and taking Jeff's chance of tying Earnhardt's 7 Championships away was the last straw. If you're going to make the past and all it's stats null and void, why don't you go back and refigure all those years under your new rules to put us all on an even playing field? How many championships does Dale have then? Does Kulwicki never get that storied championship at all? Does Mark Martin have 4 or 5 trophies coming his way?

It is not our fault that Matt Kenseth bored the hell out of everyone and they tuned out for awhile. You know what, you should have told them to suck it. This is how it's always been. There are years guys are going to run away with it and years guys are going to have to go head to head, rubbin'-is-racing, fender knocking, slingshot maneuvering down to the last lap of the last race. but you didn't. You gave us all the finger, took away Rockingham and told us to deal with it while you ran off to catch a ride in your solid gold plane with diamond encrusted seats that would take you to your billion dollar houses where you dove into your pool of money...

I can only pray that Johnson chokes on Sunday and the rightful owner of this years Championship is crowned- despite you, not because of you.

Mobsters

2007-11-09T09:27:00.001-05:00

So in the news today, I read that Salvatore Lo Piccolo, a Casa Nostra mob boss, was arrested outside of Palermo (Palermo!!!). During a raid of his home police uncovered a coded paper revealing the "Godfather's Ten Commandments"...

"Magistrates believe the elder Lo Piccolo, whose Mafia nickname is "the Baron," took over the reins of the crime organization after the arrest last year of former "boss of bosses" Bernardo Provenzano.
Interior Minister Giuliano Amato said the latest arrests, following that of Provenzano, showed the Italian state was able repeatedly to dismantle the leadership of the Sicilian Mafia."

Do paragraphs get any hotter than that??!

First of all, anything Italian (with the exception of my mothers disgusting, gross, asshole last husband) is sexy. Second, I know it's wrong, and no, I don't agree with all the murdering and whatnot, but seriously? Mobsters are sexy. I am fascinated by the whole thing. The American Mob scene in the 20s & 30s, Al Capone, the Valentine's Day Massacre, John Gotti, Tommy guns and speakeasies. I LOVE it. I have always been jealous that my friend, Kristin, who is Italian and has a very Italian last name, can say cool stuff like "You just don't fuck with someone who's last name ends in a vowel!"

I've never seen one episode of The Sopranos because I don't want big 'ol sweaty James Gandolfini ruining my perception of sexy, dark haired powerful Italian men in the mafia. Because I like to think that given the opportunity, I would totally be a mafia wife. Or mistress... But I digress.

The "Commandments" include barring mobsters from hanging out in bars, from befriending police and being late for appointments. It also bars them from "taking possession of money that belong to others or other families."

How to treat women also features in the Decalogue.

"You shall not look at wives of our friends," says one entry. "You shall respect your wife," says another. However, the Mafia comes first, as the fifth "commandment" orders a mobster to "be available for Cosa Nostra at any moment, even if your wife is about to give birth."

The last part of the list sets out application rules, saying that those who have a very bad behavior and no moral values cannot join.

See? Yes, they may be embezzling, murderous killers, but dammit they have morals and are loyal! And better than that, it's a guy whose ass is on-fucking-time for his appointments to whack someone! THAT is what I'm talking about!

2007 WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONS!

2007-10-29T08:42:00.000-05:00

Because there just are no words to describe how proud...how happy...how ecstatic I am...

Two Down...Two to Go

2007-10-26T09:17:00.000-04:00

We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Colorado...

Either way will pretty much suck for you.

We can kick your ass with our awesome ass ABs that will leave you crying from the top to the bottom of the order, (okay, except for Lugo...but whatever) or we can bring the big guns out from the bullpen. OR our outfield will catch everything your mom ever even thought of hitting and get out that way... Make no mistake- we're going to get you.

Sorry I can't seem to focus on anything else but baseball right now- as soon as my boys have the big shiny trophy, I'll be able to blog about something else. Until then, World Series Drama is what you get.

The BEST part of last nights Game Two was when Matt Holliday was up and belted one that knocked our boy Paps off the mound. He all but skipped his way to first base with that "Lallala, I'm a badass and got on against the Papelbomber." smug ass look on his face. Paps was fine, dusted himself off and promptly picked Holliday off by a mile at first base. Inning over- suck it, bitches.

I cried like a little girl when Curt tipped his cap to the crowd when leaving the hill. I adore the Schill. I am so upset that I wasn't around to see him years ago and can only hear the stories and see the old photos.

I would love to say that we'll see him in a Sox uniform next year, but chances are high we won't. Thank you for everything, #38.

Don't know what I'm going to do with myself on the off night tonight. Something fun to relieve some stress before Game 3, I hope. Because as sure as I have been since Spring Training that this is our year.... The waiting is the hardest part.

The Joy of Sox

2007-10-25T16:37:00.000-04:00

Call me sex deprived... or sex obsessed, but I was thinking last night how watching these different baseball games are like different rounds of sex.

There are games where anticipation builds for nine innings...your muscles tense, you get sweaty waiting for the climax... and either you are rewarded with an explosive ninth inning or let down by a loss and leave feeling unfulfilled with so much pent up energy you don't know what to do with yourself.

There are games that blow wide open so hard and so fast in the beginning that the rest of the game is just playing for fun. Good parts over...let's just play some more just 'cause we can. Sox are up 10-1 in the 5th? Fahk... Let's just run the bases and laugh for another 4 innings. It's like teasing... Last night's Game One was just like that.

What about the games that are so evenly matched that it's down to the wire every inning? You score 2, we'll score 2... 2 more in the 5th? You think you've got it won? NO! They'll score 2 more in the 6th. You tense up and feel relief every inning just to go through it again, and again and again...hoping you are the last one to feel it and their fans are the ones going to bed with no happy ending.

Thank gawd I've got at least 3 more games before the bats get put up for the winter....

No One Ever Saw This Coming...

2007-10-23T16:07:00.000-04:00

Few people in this world I've never met before bother me as much as Kid Rock or that Mystery guy from The Pick Up Artist. Perhaps Donald Trump, Ricky Martin, J-Lo, Pamela Anderson, maybe even Brittany...But Kid Rock holds a special prize for being able to piss me off just for breathing.

I can't stand how any one so talentless has so much friggin money. It makes me crazy to see him all stringy haired and butchering the English language and on TV... Or up on stage where people came to see him. Why, someone tell me, do people want see a white trash train wreck covered in sequins? Why?

So it is no surprise to me at all to open my Yahoo news and see Mr. Rock was arrested last night.

At a Waffle House.

Of course it was a Waffle House! Do you think he'd ever be arrested at the opera? The ballet? Maybe an art exhibition? How is this news to anyone? So he comes in, probably in no tshirt with a few big boobed airheads on each arm, someone starts talking shit and so our friend Kid has to get all, "I'm from Detroit and wish I was Eminem" on him, so a D-town type, hillbilly brawl ensues and everyone ends up covered in sticky syrup residue from rolling on the floor. You know someone went home with a waitress who thought she was the shit because she saw Kid Rock that night...

I've seen such brawls. My family is from both Detroit AND Tennessee. Not pretty I assure you. But on him, it works. I think next we should expect a brawl at a Piggly-Wiggly, a Winn Dixie or maybe even a Farmer Jacks. I'm sure next time there will be mud wrestling and horseshoes involved...

World Series, Bitches!!!

2007-10-23T10:41:00.000-04:00

I didn't write anything for awhile because I was so paranoid and superstitious about saying, doing or thinking anything that might jinx us.... Okay, until I see Youk or Paps making out with that damn big ass trophy, I'm still a little freaked out about it.

But I will say this... Hell YES, we DID just kick ass on our way into the World Series. And in awesome fashion. My boys made me proud- more than proud this weekend. The entire order stepped up. We didn't need to bring in Beckett as our last hope and prayer. Everyone got out there, stepped on some Indian throats, twisted their arms behind their backs until they cried uncle and took that WS spot by force. Then we left them crying for Mommy in the dugout while we danced in a beautiful "Fuck-yeah-champagne-takes-good-at-home, Garko!" fountain.

The Rockies may be on a hot streak, they may be good, they may or may not have taken 2 of 3 from us in inter league play... I'm not saying it'll be easy.

But I am saying WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! It'll damn sure be fun!

Pitcher for Sale!

2007-10-14T09:52:00.000-04:00

Granted he sucks- and he seems to have the anti-Midas touch because everything he touches turns to crap, but there has got to be some use for him somewhere other than Boston... Hey D'Backs, do you need a ballboy? Anyone want to use him for target practice? Maybe he could be a satisfactory waterboy somewhere...

I couldn't even post a picture of him in the Sox uniform because I'm too ashamed. Can you imagine how hard the Mets or the Yankees are laughing knowing they were smart enough to pass on this joke?

Honestly, for the life of me, I can't figure out why in the hell anyone let him near the mound until after we had already won it all, when during the regular season he showed us that no matter how big a lead, how dominant we'd been, if we turned it over to him, he'd find a way to fuck us.

So we have our big cushy lead Friday night and Terry lets him come out so he can feel good about himself...and he loads the bases. And with one swing of the bat, our night could've turned to crap. He didn't let it get quite that far, but anybody who had watched this disaster happen the past few months was waiting for it. Last night when we were tied, then behind by two, I yelped with physical agony when I saw him headed out. THIS? This is who we're going to count on to help dig us out of a hole? The man is seems to be a professional gravedigger? As soon as I saw him, I said. "Well, we're done now."

And we were. He's brought nothing to the table and I want to know what in the hell that 2.1 million bought us. Don't quote me stats on what he did here or there.... Put up or shut up, Eric. You can't claim to be a badass and pitch like a PowerPuff Girl.

But prove it next year (if we can't find a way to unload your ass). For the rest of October, grab some pine and watch how the big boys play ball. Take notes.

Dear Neiman Marcus Santa...

2007-10-05T13:21:00.000-04:00

So Neiman Marcus has unveiled the 2007 Christmas catalog full of insanely overpriced purchases only the truly whacked-out would dream to wish for.

We are talking a $1.4 million submarine, $110,000 for a portrait made from chocolate syrup, $70 slippers, $500,000 for a tree tent, $73,000 for a diamond encrusted cell phone, a private concert with the Kirov Orchestra for $1.6 million or $1000 for a pair of Prada tennis shoes.... Tennis shoes. Like the kind you run in? Would you strap $500 to each of your feet and walk around in them? I don't think so.

But in the spirit of whacked out, craziness that I do so admire, I have assembled my own wish list for this mythical Santa who brings over the top gifts to especially good girls and boys...

Personal Tour of Fenway from the Sox- I don't want the standard tourist crap either, Santa, I want the real deal. I'm talkin' affirmative visual confirmation of locker room towel snapping, a tour of the inside of the Green Moster with Manny, BP with Papi's arms around me teaching me to swing. I want to watch tapes with Tek and try on his mask, eat hot dogs with Youk and his goatee while we make fun of Alex Cora. I want a walk to the pitchers mound with Josh Beckett on one arm and Curt Shilling on the other. (I'll work on the whole kissing Mike Lowell thing myself while I'm there, so don't worry about adding that in)

I'd also like to meet Jeff Gordon- (Naked, on the hood of his car if possible) If I must meet my future husband, Mr. Gordon, in a socially acceptable environment, I'd like to have him take me for hotlaps at Bristol.

One of everything from Tiffany & Co. No really. Just one. I know that it's a different store, Santa, but if you're handing out 1.4 million dollar submarines, I figure this isn't too terribly much to ask.

Instead of asking for that $500,000 tree tent, I think I'll ask for, I dunno, a HOUSE with foundation and bathrooms. I'm thinkin' half a mil could buy a pretty nice one of those...

Instead of that orchestra, I'll take a silver Mercedes. Convertable would be cool, but I'll take what you're giving in the silver- Mercedes family.

One last thing, please give ChaCha a pony.

I promise I have been a very good girl. (Kinda) Love, Me.

Commander Kick Ass

2007-10-04T15:43:00.000-04:00

I like nicknames. Sometimes it's how I remember certain people when encountered with large groups. On vacation, I have named people Deliverance (he was from Alabama), Shades (dude who wore sunglasses that wrapped around your head), Boston, Boston's brother, Hot Guy, Ugly chick, Pu-ssy Girl (chick who used that word continuously), on and on...

I call my kids turkeys, my baby ducks, my rotten brats, my tribe... I know people named ChaCha, Moe, Gravy, Mimi, Duh-dud-uh, Handsome, Sweets and Big Victoria.

But my all time favorite nickname right now is what the boys over at survivinggrady.com call my Josh Beckett: Commander Kick Ass of the Fuck Yeah Brigade.

And if you want to know why, you clearly didn't see him pitch last night. Not only did he win 20 games during the regular season, he saved a perfectly executed shut out for the post season. It was friggin' beautiful.

I think it's illegal in some states to be that damn awesome.

Here's hoping my ol pal Matsuzaka, aka Dice K, can just do the same tomorrow night.

Who Knew?

2007-10-01T15:39:00.001-04:00

That Dustin Pedoria was so friggin' cute in civilian clothes? Damn! And if this is how my boys are getting ready for the post-season, bring it on! AL East Champonship? Check. Whiskey? Check. Ready to kick some ass and take some names? Done.

Not just yeah...but HELL Yeah!

2007-10-01T15:36:00.001-04:00

You see, a little faith, goes a long way...

I am so proud of you, boys! We got the pennant, now let's go get a damn trophy for the other hand!!!!

Don't Stop Believin'.....

2007-09-21T15:40:00.000-04:00

*Insert Journey song as background music here*

Maybe you all are unfamiliar with my tenacity. I will hold onto something like a rabid friggin' dog if it hurts me to let go. In small words for some of you, I don't let go easily.

You think this little late September slump has me giving up? Hell to the no. I have not watched 7 months of baseball to quit now when things are just getting good. I have not cheered these boys on, snuck out of weddings to check on games, quoted stats to New York boys who thought girls in Texas couldn't know shit about Red Sox baseball, to give up on them now. I am not one of those chicks who dons the pink hat to look cute next to her boyfriend at a game. I'm in this bitch for the long haul.

You think telling me every day day how close the Yankees are to catching the pennant will all of a sudden have me jumping on the ARod train? You must not understand my desperate unrequited love for Mike Lowell or know the awesomeness that is Josh Beckett. If you think for one damn minute I'd ever consider not believing in the power of our Captain, you don't know my respect for Tek. And you damn sure don't understand what it's like to see Papelbon pitch... I KNOW how many games we've lost since Labor Day. Tuh-rust me, I know. But this team is far from done. My boys are feeling the pain that comes from KICKING ASS for 7 months- that will, in fact, catch up with you, I don't care who you are. But it's okay. We'll let them get close, let them get a little cocky and then squash them. My Manny is coming back soon.... Youk? Is going to get off that bench with a score to settle. If I were the Yankees, I'd be very afraid.

It's far from over, my friends. Don't give up now, the fun is just about to start! Now quit your friggin crying and get ready for OCTOBER!!!!!!!

The Final Showdown

2007-09-14T17:13:00.000-04:00

Here we go, boys and girls. The final showdown of the season and it could not come at a better time for me. I have been running around like a crazy person with events and to-dos. I have chauffeured kids, worked, gone to games and appointments. My butt misses the feel of my couch. This Red Sox/Skanks matchup is Gods way of telling me to slow the hell down and watch some damn baseball.

Screw everything else. I am leaving work in 30 minutes, going home, getting in my jammies and settling in for what I know will be a damn good game. I say I'm settling in, but really, that's only for 3 innings before I'm standing in front of the TV and screaming. Or pacing. Hopefully jumping and dancing and doing my Fenway Home Run Happy Dance...

I've put my friends on Red alert. Do not call my ass tonight. I will not answer. I've told my kids- you want to go somewhere? You better find a damn ride, cause this taxi service is closed tonight. What's his name that lives with me? Make your own damn dinner. Chef's off tonight. She will be unavailable until tomorrow.

Tomorrow is a lot more of the running around and football games, taking kids to birthday parties, attending a wedding- everyone PRAY I get to catch most of the game.

Sunday is well. The 3rd of a 3 game series. You know where I'll be.

But don't call.

GO SOX!!!!!!

Brides Smoking Crack

2007-09-12T15:22:00.000-04:00

Once upon a time, I too was a bride. No, really. With a veil and everything. Granted, that was 12 years ago. When I was 20.

Even at 20, when people said "Go register", I knew to go scan things I could afford too and things I needed. When was the next time people would buy me gifts for no reason? So I did. Towels and plates I would use everyday, a blender, a toaster, maybe a pretty frame for a wedding picture. The end.

I have recently perused a registry for a friend or two or 5 that are getting married soon....

And now I want to know what kind of amazing, delicious, delusion-inducing crack these bitches are smoking.

Are you fucking kidding me? A $200 gravy boat? A $175 place setting of china? And you want TWELVE of them? Bitch, you KNOW you eat more Sonic than the fry cooks who work there- why in the holy fuck do you need over $2 grand in china??? They would probably say Thanksgiving. *Eye roll* Whatever. Big screen TV, $1200 BBQ pit, $40 each for a bath towel???

Where is it written that because you are having a party where you wear a big white dress that you are entitled to a $400 mixer?

The other thing that contributes to my confusion is that these are all second marriages. Which is fabulous. It didn't work the first time. You are brave enough to try again. But you're supposed to be smarter! Not try to get more shit for the second time around. Bitch, I gave 10 years worth of blow jobs to the same man. THAT entitles me to $400 worth of something, but no one buys you gifts for that.

I get it. You're a pretty, pretty princess- it's your special, special day.... Again. Some more. You are doing it again and want things better and different than last time. That part I understand. Kinda. But damn. Shouldn't you have to earn this stuff? Why do we give wedding gifts anyway? Earn your shit and get anniversary presents. THAT deserves reward. You stay married 10 years? Here's your gift card for $2000. Go buy what you KNOW you need, not what you think you might need, but actually sits in a cardboard box in the back of your cupboard for 20 years. 20 years? Here's $5000 for a vacation you probably need waaaaay more than a TV or a friggin gravy boat that sits in a curio cabinet.

So here's my plan. I'm going to buy wine. Bottles of it. Because when you start coming down off the crack and back to Earth after your veil comes off, you're gonna need something to ease the headache.....

A Prayer

2007-09-10T15:09:00.000-04:00

Dear Baseball God, Lord, sweet, tiny-baby Jesus/Allah/Holy Spirit/ Insert Deity of Your Choice Here....

I don't mean to come to you with evil in my heart, but if you could see your way to maiming Alex Rodriguez in some way, I sure would appreciate it. I don't mean kill him, Lord. No, even I have to admit he's got some talent... But just for the next, say 6 weeks or so, if he could just suddenly come down with a case of explosive diarrhea, or maybe some wicked bad hemorrhoids- so bad he can't walk, much less lift a bat, well... that would just be swell.

You see, those damn Yankees are only continuing to bother me because of this one man. If he were somehow removed from the situation, they would cease to even be a worry to me- I'm sure of it! Instead, they are like a cockroach. Always coming back. Even when I think it's been squashed, it keeps coming back. It's maddening!!!!

I don't ask for much, Lord... And I apologize that I seem to come to you often in the 9th inning. I thank you for all the times you've helped my boys this season. Thank you for continuing to assist my sweet Mike Lowell to kick ass and for Clay's no hitter. Thank you for back-to back-to back-to back home runs. Thank you for helping Papi start to hit like Papi again.

I look forward to your reply. No note necessary, I will know you have answered me when A-Rod runs off the field with poo running down his uniform...

Amen.

Going to a Happy Place...

2007-09-05T12:22:00.000-04:00

So over the past few weeks I’ve developed an eye twitch that will not stop. Terminal? No. Annoying? Yes. Annoying as hell. It comes whenever it pleases- my right eyelid jerks like its being electrocuted. People have told me it’s barely visible and only when I point and my eye and hold them down to stare at it. “LOOK AT IT!? CAN’T YOU SEE IT?!?”

I’m told that along with my nail biting and affinity for chips and other crunchy snacks, this is a product of my stress level. Even the sweet little nurse I called from my insurance company said that all these other symptoms I’ve had lately sound stress induced. (Insomnia, hair loss, muscle soreness in my neck and shoulders, lots of fantasizing about running away from home) Stressed? Me?

I only have 4 children. Who are involved in football, cheerleading, student council, UIL, athletics, underwater-basket weaving etc… I work at a hotel that is much like the money pit right now and we are in the process of renovation. I go to work not knowing which wall will be missing on any given day or which ceiling it will be raining from. During all this, I am to pamper all my clients as though they have arrived at Trump Towers.

My marriage, well, let’s just say it… Is in the toilet. I worry about money every second of the day. One of my friends is getting married this week- which would normally be a good, happy thing, except I have had to listen to every detail in minutia for at least 3 hours a day for the past 9 months. AND I’ve spent my own time and money (LOTS of it) completing my own responsibilities as Maid of Honor.

Okay, maybe a little stressed… But I hate to admit it. Because there is always someone else who has a real reason to be stressed. Like living in a box… or has cancer….or a Yankees fan who still thinks they’re going to the playoffs (couldn’t resist)….

So Nancy, the sweet little nurse from my insurance company says if I don’t want to go see a doctor, (I don’t. They freak me out) I should just try to take a few minutes each day to be alone and quiet and relax. She jokes, “Go to your Happy Place.” (Sidebar: That reference immediately made me think of the scene from Happy Gilmore when Adam Sandler sees Chubbs playing the piano and his Grandma running around with loads of money.)

So I think- Where IS my happy place? I could say on a beach, all by myself listening to waves crash and someone handing me a froofy drink with a pineapple wedge and a pink umbrella in it, but really, how can I focus on something I’ve never had?

So I chose my happy place from places and times that could have actually been and would have stayed if time could be frozen….

I am sitting at a table in a clean, beautifully decorated room, the windows are open and a cool breeze is coming in. Baseball or NASCAR is on a big TV. There are two other people in the room- people I could sit and hang out with for hours and hours and they don’t stress me out- they make me happy to be in their space. In front of me is a bowl of homemade clam chowder. (It is very important that this was made by someone else- for me) I am eating my chowder and drinking my Cape Cod (also made for me) and being happy… And for those minutes in my happy place, no one is demanding anything of me but to sit there and enjoy. I can JUST BE. I do not have to take care of anyone or insure their happiness. My only job is to sit there and know that for those brief moments, EVERYTHING is right with the world…

I feel the breeze. I hear the gentle background noise of the game, but mostly just the laughter from these people and myself. There is no phone ringing, no arguing or yelling. I can relax and let everything else go.

And look at that- just typing about it, my eye hasn’t twitched at all the past 10 minutes. Maybe that little Nancy is onto something…

Randomness...

2007-09-04T14:31:00.001-04:00

Tighten your seat belts, ladies and gents, because this one will be a wild ride. There is no rhyme or reason to this post, just a trip down the swirling, slip and slide that is my thought process lately...

I myself embrace the diverse nationalities I am surrounded by on a daily basis. I work in the damn rainbow coalition. Black, white, Hispanic, Asian. People from Mexico, Puerto Rico, Germany, Minnesota... I love learning about my friends' cultures and foods, languages and customs. But can someone 'splain to me why in the hell my Latin friends seem to have a necessity for HICKEYS????

First of all, I am embarrassed by visible bruises I get on accident, so I don't understand why in the name of GAWD you would proudly show off some nasty purple blotches all over your neck and chest that people know you got on purpose.

Are these things supposed to say, "That's right, bitches, I had someone sucking on parts that DON'T DO ANYTHING last night"? Maybe, "I have someone that likes to attach themselves to me like a hoover and break blood vessels"?

Really now. I thought we all did that once or twice in high school before sticking the spoon in the freezer, applying it to the affected area and praying it helped lessen the affect before our moms noticed it... Some guys did it when they were 16 as a badge of "I was making out with someone last night". Whatever. I'm just saying it's a little more excusable when you're a 16 year old idiot than when you're 30-something and just look ridiculous. Am I wrong in saying that if some one's going to suck and lick the hell out of you that hard, it damn well better be on a body part better suited for such activities???

And they don't attempt to hide it. No, on the contrary- it's time to unbutton that shirt just one more button to show off the islands of Hawaii hickeys near your left nipple. WTF?? I just don't get it. Anyone more enlightened than I?

****************

I found this new blog: http://www.survivinggrady.com/ I am cuh-razy for this guy. Not only does he do me the courtesy of posting almost every day, but he thinks just like me! Bravo!!! And anyone who can doctor up a Mike Lowell photo with a hot quote next to it is tops in my book....

***************

Got a request at work from a group called NWA. Now before we "Raised in the 90s" kids get all excited about a reunion tour, let me be the first to give you the sad news~ It stands for National Watermelon Association.

I know. I didn't know either. *Sigh*

***************

And yes, Yankee assholes, my Ralph Lauren high heels were quite tasty. Now suck it. Tampa Bay took your asses downtown to Chinatown while we kicked Baltimore butt. Kiss your WildCard goodbye, bitches....

All Kinds of Wrong...

2007-08-29T13:48:00.000-04:00

My super keen powers of observation have led me to notice several different layers of wrongness in this world lately. There's Obviously Wrong- stealing, wearing black socks with sandals, being a Yankees fan or grown ass women wearing the word "Juicy" on their asses. Things of that nature.

Then there's Very Wrong: Calling your boss a lazy asshole, eating nachos without margaritas, mullets, talking to me about anything during a tie 9th inning, 2 out, bases loaded at bat, or anyone over a size 16 wearing a thong.... that sort of thing.

Wrong on 3 Different Levels would include: Smoking crack in front of your babies, torturing animals or pouring a bottle of Jameson down the toilet. All horrid, punishable by death offenses.

But last night I was witness to two new kinds of wrong. The first was a GD Johnny Damon 5th inning, 2 run homer against my beloved Sox. That turncoat bastard. We should all spit when we are forced to say his name. *Pa-too, pa-too* Maybe whisper his name like old ladies do diseases. You know... "Stella, she got the cancer, bless her..." "Someone had to pull Jeter off that Johnny Damon's butt again last night." I myself usually automatically add the prefix, "that GD" before having to speak his name. Traitor. Money hungry sellout. Heartless bastard.

But I digress...

It is just wrong that the baseball Gods made us witness that shit. I can only reason that I was forced to stomach it because the victory will be that much sweeter when we kick the collective Yankee ass tonight and tomorrow..

The last and most confusing Level of Wrongness that I have uncovered is the idiot seen above. While nursing a broken heart and flipping channels after the game last night, I stumbled across VH1's reality show "The Pick Up Artist", where the idiotically dressed man above, named "Mystery", teaches 8 young dorks how to walk, talk, dress and play women to sleep with them.

Yeah. It's so stupid, I can't even make this up.

The first thing wrong with this picture is this: How in the HELL does THIS asshole get chicks in the first place? Hello? Fuzzy hat? Goggles? Black fingernail polish and more eyeliner than 6 of my girlfriends wear? Purple leather duster? I would like to see what qualifications this skinny douche has for giving anyone advice about waking up in the morning and not shooting yourself in the face, much less how to pick up women. What makes this guy an expert and who the holy hell are the women that he picks up?!?!

My second question on this astronomical percentage of wrongness is where did they find 8 guys pathetic and sad enough to listen to this guy and hang on his every word on TELEVISION?

I know reality TV is not exactly the prime example of people with dignity, but FOR REAL? "My nickname is "Cosmo" and I have a dude named mystery talking in my ear telling me how to score bitches... Wanna make out?"

In last night's episode, the boys took kissing lessons from 2 hookerific friends of Mystery's. Then, after lesson was over (I shit you not!) they had to take a test to be graded. The test was each dude kissing one of the girls in turn. She lined them up and frenched each one back-to-back.

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Honestly, if you want to boggle your own mind, check this show out. I'm not saying you won't want those 30 minutes of your life back- you will, (not to mention the fact that you will be more stupid just for having watched it) but if you are bored or drunk or bored and drunk, take a gander and see the 7th Wrong of the World....

Bring it on, Bitches!

2007-08-28T16:08:00.000-04:00

So as a Red Sox fan, I've been taught one thing first and foremost...

It ain't over, til it's over.

I get that. Not counting chickens before they hatch, not finding a spot for my pennant before it's handed out, blahblahblah... But seriously? We have had the best record in baseball all friggin' season. We have handed asses to several different teams on a silver platter. We have been 14 (now 8) up on the Yankees with a month of ball left to go. We have just come off a sweep of the White Sox and now...

We head to the Bronx, baby.

I am so excited for this series. I know, everyone is excited about Yanks vs Red Sox, but this feels different. Even if we take just 2 of 3 from these mo-fos, we're still up 10 games!

So tonight we have DiceK and Pettitte. As long as our bats stay on a roll, this game is soooo money. Tomorrow is a battle of the generations (thank holy Jeebus it's on ESPN 2 and I don't have to stare at my tiny computer screen). My Texas boy Beckett takes on the old man Roger Clemens. And Thursday afternoon (when I will be watching at my desk at work and trying to look like I'm actually earning some pay) is Curt and Wang. Wang? Please. My boys started something in Chi-town. Papi is warming up just when we need him. My future husband Mike Lowell? No rut to be found- just pounding them when we need them. You want a single? He'll give you a single. Double? No problem. Manny has even learn to run a little bit! Jeezus Pete!

Even if I have to eat my 3 inch, Ralph Lauren, camel colored, leather high heels on Friday, today I am vibrating with excitement. Bring your best, bitches. We 'aint scared!

Putting it out there...

2007-08-23T10:50:00.000-04:00

This is the first song that came on as soon as I pulled away from home today. I can't get it out of my head or my heart facsimile. So, here's hoping I can exorcise the demons...

And So It Goes

Lyrics Artist (Band):Billy Joel

In every heart there is a room
A sanctuary safe and strong
To heal the wounds from lovers past
Until a new one comes along

I spoke to you in cautious tones
You answered me with no pretense
And still I feel I said too much
My silence is my self defense

And every time I've held a rose
It seems I only felt the thorns
And so it goes, and so it goes
And so will you soon I suppose

But if my silence made you leave
Then that would be my worst mistake
So I will share this room with you
And you can have this heart to break

And this is why my eyes are closed
It's just as well for all I've seen
And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows

So I would choose to be with you
That's if the choice were mine to make
But you can make decisions too
And you can have this heart to break

And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows

Mommy's Little Man

2007-08-16T10:42:00.000-04:00

Allow me my Paul Reiser "Parenthood" moment, if you will...

Seriously, I have THE cutest kids on Earth. For real. And there's a reason God and my own personal body made them so friggin cute.... It's so I won't kill them.

From the 3 year old who REFUSES to actually poop in the potty as opposed to on himself, to the 12 year old who is convinced her 32 year old mother is a damn dinosaur and has no clue about anything. She rolls her eyes and slams doors and is convinced she is abused because she doesn't have a cell phone yet... In between is the 8 year old girl whose habits include habitually lying, sneaking food off and leaving the wrappers stashed around the house and screaming as if she's being beheaded at the drop of a hat. And then there is the 6 year old boy...

He is my third child but my first born boy so everything he does is pretty much new to me. I have never been a 6 year old boy so I truly don't get the obsession with dirt bikes and 4 wheelers. I don't understand how I can start the day with "Hi, Buddy, did you sleep well?" and get "Yeah, I'm hungry....could I ask Grandpa to buy me a dirt bike?"

Conversations take a turn like this all day long.

Q: "So Monkey, what do you want for dinner?"
A: "I could ride a four wheeler in the backyard, you know"

Q: "Want to go swimming today?"
A: "Jeff Gordon was 5 when he started to race go karts. I'm already 6!!!!"

Q: "Can we not talk about 4 wheelers and dirt bikes today?"
A: "If I promise to not go on sweet jumps until I'm 15, can I have a dirt bike?"

Six year old boy language is very random and very specific at the same time. And where the kid gets some of his material is questionable as well. An excerpt from a real conversation from this weekend:

Me: "Hey kiddo, I'll miss you tonight. Have fun with Daddy, okay?"
The Boy: "So I think Daddy and I should get our own monster truck."
Me: "Ummm...kay. Why?"
The Boy: "So we can ride around in it... Maybe pick up some hot chicks"
Me: "Some what?!?"
The Boy: "Hot chicks... to ride in the back"
Me: "Wha? Who?"
The Boy: "Ya know, GIRLS, Mommy? Hot chicks are girls."
Me: "So you want girls to ride in the monster truck?"
The Boy: "Yeah, hot chicks in the back."
Me: "Why do they have to ride in the back? Won't that be uncomfortable?"
The Boy: "They gotta ride in the back if me and Daddy are in the front. But I'll get 'em like a couch and a blanket and a microwave...."
Me: "Sounds like you're pimpin' your monster truck..."
The Boy: "What Mommy?"
Me: "Nothing, honey...Nothing."

So he's six and obviously thinking ahead to engines and hot chicks. Six!

I look at this boy and see the sweet face baby I so proudly marched out of the hospital with. He was swaddled in blue from the tiny baseball hat to the tiny booties. I wanted no one mistaking the fact that I- I was bringing home my son. Not that boys were preferred over girls, but after 2 beautiful pink daughters, this was a huge moment for me. I was puffed up like some Italian mafioso. -And not just from all the IV's and drugs from childbirth either. I used the word "son" like some women use the word "fiance" after just being engaged. As a new word that tingles on your tongue... a word that has a lot of meaning behind. When I said "son" what I meant was "HA!! I finally have a BOY! And we get to buy BLUE STUFF! And someday I will get to watch him play sports. And he is PERFECT and BIG and STRONG!"

And so now, this tiny boy, this sweet faced baby of mine says he wants to pick up hot chicks??? He wants to put his body (that I made!) on a four wheeler and drive it off "sweet jumps" so he can break his head (that I made too!!) open??

How do mothers do this? Girls are so much easier. Control the make make-up, keep boys away, take them shopping. Done. Slumber parties I can do. The most dangerous activity there is painting your toenails blue. Not being crushed by a dirt bike. Gah!

I am in love with this boy. Would do anything to make him happy... He is a charmer, and funny as hell and smart and precious with his little glasses and blue eyes, but if anyone sees him, tell him girls don't like dudes who have monster trucks, dirt bikes, go karts or 4 wheelers, okay?

The Last Fling Before the Ring...

2007-08-13T13:14:00.000-04:00

Bachelorette Parties are interesting things men cannot understand. Much like women, periods and the difference in my 8 pairs of black shoes... Guys have bachelor parties and you don't see them stick a crown on the groom-to-be's head with a necklace covered in little plastic vaginas. They do not run around in packs downtown seeing who can be the loudest Woo-hooer, the sexiest dancer or blow whistles at hot men as they stagger down the street. The boys version?

Show me boobs. Give me beer. Done.

You gotta respect the simplicity of it, really. (I do want to give mad props to the bachelor party group I witnessed Saturday night who had taken a blow-up doll and handcuffed it to the groom... That. Was awesome.)

Women would be a bit less than satisfied if you handed a bride-to-be a box of wine and had some naked boys gyrate their wangs in her face.

(At least MY friends would've been anyway...)

So instead, we women plan days at the spa or dinner out dressed up with the girls... The we go out and get rowdy and drink. We stick a light up tiara on the chosen ones head, parade her all over town, making her as big a spectacle as humanly possible. For what? Free drinks? The attention? Maybe a bit of both. Maybe it is in the spirit of needing that connection with other women and feeling like we need to justify it with an occasion. Which is sad, really.

We shouldn't need an excuse to cram 8 girls together in one hotel room to giggle and talk about random things. We shouldn't need a reason to drink an obscene amount of liquor, dance our butts off and laugh at each other. And I'll be damned if we really need to have a reason to get all hopped up at 3 am to go get in the hotel pool in bras and panties. (Speaking of which, we should've sold tickets to THAT part of the night to pay for the alcohol portion! Duh! Why didn't I think of that before??? And there we were, a bunch of suckers, givin' that kind of show away for free?!? GAH!)

So I hereby second the motion for annual Bachelorette Party Night. Even if we don't pick a fake bride. I swear it's not to see the Hottest Boy I Have Ever Seen again... It's not for the free drinks being a group earned us... It's not even for the hilarity of seeing my drunk friend get on more than one stage with a crooked plastic tiara and veil on her head. It's to see you hot bitches all wet in your undies, dammit! ;-) No, I kid, I kid... It is our right- nay, our duty as women to get the hell away from the guys on occasion and do whatever the hell we want. And let them do whatever they want.

Even if it is boring old boobs and beer.

Keepin' it Classy...

2007-07-30T20:14:00.000-04:00

It happened...Again.

I worked all day, ran around the hotel for 7 hours in heels making every detail for someone's event perfect down to the last carrot stick. They left, I cleaned up and then went immediately over to a friends house for a cocktail party I was hosting as a couple's wedding shower.

I had spent weeks planning the food, the decorations, the festivites. No detail went unattended. I bought dozens of pieces of glassware so there were no paper cups, I fought a hard battle over plastic anything. I wanted it beautiful and classy and perfect. So I'm cooking, and cleaning and setting up, I throw on my little black cocktail dress, have people lighting candles... I'm making drinks, people are oohing over the food- I am aware of a drink in my hand, but too busy to be concerned with it.

Things are rolling along, everything is on schedule, Sinatra is playing and all is right with the world. Until I realize I have downed 2 cosmos and 2 lemon drop martinis without even noticing...until my head is in the toilet. Nice.

Way to keep it classy...

Gah! Why does this always happen to me? It seems no matter how hard I try I cannot ever time it right. Nothing ever goes as planned. What am I doing wrong???

Boys who talk funny....

2007-07-16T10:31:00.000-04:00

As a rule, I think most women like men with accents. Some chicks love the English lilt, or Aussie ruggedness, maybe a Scottish brogue. Some women are ready to drop their panties for men who speak any of the Love Languages. We all have some imaginary Pretend Boyfriend who whispers something romantic and foreign...maybe in French or Italian. But no. Not me.

I am a sucker for boys who drop their R's.

So no, it's not 'foreign' so to speak.... certainly not fancy or rugged. But what is it with those boys from the northeast and their sexy letter skipping accents that makes me crazy?

One of my very best friends always tells people when I finally do get to Boston I'd probably be happy to just listen to random men speak- read the phone book even. It's true, too. I'm afraid to take myself to Boston for fear of pouncing on dark haired boys who happen to say hi or ask me how I am. ("How ah ya?") Just thinking about it makes me giggly and beside myself. Some sweet waiter will want to take my order and I will kiss him... A gentleman will ask me if I want a beer and I will practically dry hump him. Gah!

I will be out of control. I will get my ass beat by some local chick for drooling over her boyfriend while I listen to him on his cell phone! But it's not even the young ones. Old guys talkng like that is the cutest damn thing ever. And the more they cuss, the better. I can't wait to go to a bar and hear a whole crowd of them yelling, "FAHK!"

That shit doesn't get old for me either. I have had one friend who drops his R's and three years later, I'm still begging him to say "clam chowder" one more time. Is he annoyed by it? Probably. Tells me I've got to learn to play it cool, but I swear this is some kind of sickness.

But at least I know any man who speaks like that could kick the shit out of your English Pretend Boyfriend...

Bad Mommy!

2007-07-13T12:04:00.000-04:00

So I was dropping the oldest girl off for a slumber party and the mommy of the friend comes out to chat. She tells me she and her husband are going out for a few hours, something they do every Thursday. "It's a spiritual group."

I immediately am sent into a panic- as any kind of conversation teetering on religious beliefs makes me do. So I am off kilter when she says,

"Do YOU belong to a Spiritual Group?"

My immediate, no thought process involved reply?

"Sure do- but it's a different kind of spiritual. It's the one that comes from a bottle!"

She did a double take and my 12 year old yelped in embarrassment, "Mommy!"

Yep. I'm tellin' you... Mommy of the Year for that one.

The Way I See It...

2007-07-06T09:21:00.000-04:00

So NASCAR has decided to make a venture into other worlds and one team has even teamed up with my very own RED SOX as owners. Formerly Roush Racing, now Roush-Fenway Racing. They even had a special paint scheme this past weekend at New Hampshire to commemorate the joining of the two.

If you know me, you'd think I'd be a little more excited about this marriage of my two very favorite things on Earth. But the problem is this: I cannot stand Jack Roush.

I love NASCAR. It has been a sports staple of mine for years. I fell in love during a 1996 Rockingham race and have never looked back. (Anyone else remember Rockingham?) I love the drivers, the drama, the intricacies of these three dollar parts determining million dollar paydays. Silly season, crew chief swapping, rivalry making, bump drafting, road course, super speedway, short track, engines blowing, tire rubbing, I LOVE it.

I adore Carl Edwards- he is truly a genuine, happy, grateful, enthusiastic driver. He is talented, he is funny and personable. He does BACKFLIPS off of his car when he wins for gawd's sake! He's fabulous.

Jack Roush? Total a-hole. And I can't endorse or become enthusiastic about anything that furthers his bid to become a dominant owner. Anything that adds credibility to his company. He spent a good portion of the late 90's calling Ray Evrenham a liar and a cheat because he truly couldn't catch up. Screamed that Ray soaked the tires or expanded the gas bladder! Even NASCAR went over those cars with fine toothed combs. They took samples to labs. Ya know what was in those tires? "Air, Jack."

He could not concede that Ray was an amazingly brilliant man who was a genius with those cars at the time. To this day I say Ray and Jeff Gordon were such a dominant force because they were so far ahead of the competition at the time and the competition just finally caught up and leveled the playing field.

It was a feeling among most people in NASCAR that yes, we all loved Mark Martin, but not his owner. He was a whiney baby who cried when his cars didn't win.

But then he got in the airplane accident and almost died and all of a sudden he's a damn saint. Whatever. Kenseth wins a championship and it's supposed to look like a Cinderella story. Screw that. I'm not buying.

So yes, I love the Sox. I should be beside myself with glee that my sports 'had a baby' so to speak. I should be able to take my eyes off that 24 car for 2 seconds to check on my Red Sox car. But I can't. The wrong dude owns it. But that's just the way I see it....

29 Questions About: 1994

2007-06-25T10:14:00.000-04:00

I totally stole this from Christel. Who stole it from Lola who stole it from Ann. Because I'm bored and had a bad weekend, but it's too emotionally draining to think, much less write about. So here's some light and fluffy...

Fill this out about your SENIOR year of high school! The longer ago it was, the more fun the answers will be.

1. Who was your best friend? Tistel
2. What sports did you play? Ummm... '94? Is sex a sport?
3. What kind of car did you drive? I didn't
4. Where were you on Friday nights? WalMart or Quebe's or the Park
5. Were you a party animal? uhhhh... we partied. not so sure about the "animal" part. ditto
6. Were you considered a flirt? No. I was considered the dumbass who always had a stupid boyfriend. Or mooning over someone I wanted to be my boyfriend
7. Ever skip school? yep.
8. Were you a nerd? still am- though kinda in a sexy way now... ;-)
10. Did you get suspended/expelled? no...
11. Can you sing the fight song? Yep
12. Who was your favorite teacher? Mrs. E or Mrs. Reagan
13. Favorite class? Newspaper or Theatre
14. What was your school's full name? Georgetown High School
15. School mascot? eagles
16. Did you go to Prom? 3 of em
17. If you could go back to high school and do it over, would you? Not just no, hell no.
18. What do you remember most about graduation? Being sad I had nobody to hug on the field because none of my friends were there with me.
19. Favorite memory of your Senior Year? I don't have a 'one'. It was an accumulative effort resulting in my lifetime group of friends.
20. Were you ever posted up on the senior wall? the wha? I am unfamiliar.
21. Did you have a job your senior year? yep. Wal-Mart Girl.
22. Where did you go most often for lunch? the Park, DUR. Home of the Infamous Wall of Food courtesy of Daniel Lee Hoglan. Amen, sister! Though I must add, we went to Sonic or Taco Bueno a lot.
23. Have you gained weight since then? yep. But 10 pounds per kid isn't sooo bad. Oh, wait...
24. What did you do after graduation? Worked my ass off, had a baby, got married.
25. When did you graduate?1994
26. Where are most of your classmates? we are all still in town
27. Are you going to your ten year reunion? Went against my better judgement. Won't be making an appearance at the 20th.
28. Who was your home room teacher? homeroom teacher? what's that?
29. Who will repost this after you? Any random stranger who happens upon this and is bored too.

A Little NASCAR Gloating...

2007-06-13T11:57:00.000-04:00

"Hey Jeff, let's go kick some ass and take some names, Boss!"

That's right, bitches. WE OWN HIS ASS! WOOOOOO!!!

It's a banner day in NASCAR and we Jeff Gordon fans are giddy and beside ourselves with glee. You see, it hasn't been us booing your driver. No, no. We haven't thrown beer cans when your golden boy Earnhardt Jr. has won. A, because we have more class and B, because, oh yeah, he hasn't won in over a year, but I digress...

So while I've never jumped on the Jr. bandwagon, I can say I've never hated him. He's been a fun, amusing dude who looks like someone you'd totally want to have a beer with. -As long as he didn't talk about his Daddy- who I couldn't stand, but have respect for what he did for the sport... The only reason Jr. fans hated Jeff was because they were jealous- we never had anything to be jealous of. And now, (write it down!) June 13, 2007, Dale Earnhardt Jr. comes to join Hendrick Motorsports. "Why would he do that?" you may be asking yourselves.

Because he knows that's where he's got to go to win.

Duh. And so now, when he does win, when/if he goes on to win a championship, he will have Hendrick beside him. He will never have to beat us- he's joined us.

And what's even more fabulous? Jeff Gordon is all but 50/50 partners with Hendrick in all endeavors and most assuredly will be so when he retires. A+B= Jr. will soon be driving FOR, not with Mr. Jeffery Michael Gordon. Soon he'll call him Boss... Omg, I love this game...

I'm sorry. I know. It must hurt. I swear I will only rub this in for today. I will only do my evil chuckle a few more times today and then back to business. I will only dream about Jr. thanking Jeff and Mr. Hendrick for the opportunity a little longer, I will only giggle a little at the idea of now learning to root for Jr. because I will be able to see what he can do in quality equipment surrounded by the most talented teams in NASCAR...

But I will laugh loudly AND point at you dumbshits with the number 8 tattoos if he becomes the #5!!!

People will ask what this does to NASCAR, and I say "Who gives a crap?" It's the same as any other driver swap. Jr. fans will still be pissy if he loses, Gordon fans will still want Jeff to go after those 3 more trophies. Any other team had the same opportunity to court Jr. but he chose Hendrick for a reason. This is his last chance to prove he's not the O word he hears so often- Overratred. If he can't win here, he can't win. And all the hype that has surrounded him since he got to the Cup level is just that. A bunch of hoop-la about a so-so driver with a big-ass last name. I hope he does well.... I can now.

Welcome to the Hendrick Family, Jr. We are happy to have you onboard. Now get your driving boots on, it's time to go win some races....

A Word on Alcohol...

2007-06-08T09:49:00.000-04:00

So one of my very best friends is getting married- and so of course that means meeting new people and her new family. Amazing the kinds of people you discover you've never met before. People from other states or countries, people from all walks of life, people of different religions, people who don't drink....

Whoa-waitwaitwait, wha?

Yeah. For real. And I don't mean a 90 year old Bible thumper either. I have met a gorgeous young woman who doesn't drink at all. And that is the craziest talk I have ever heard.

That's like saying, "Sex? No thank you- I don't have sex."

"Air? Oh no, really. I'm fine, but thank you."

Seriously? I assure you I am not an alcoholic by any means- I can even find people who will vouch for me. But the thought of never drinking EVER... That would drive me into a mental institution. I get that everyone has their thing. Some dumbasses have to smoke pot to relax, some people must smoke cigarettes. But never a glass of wine (or seven) at a party? Not a lemon drop martini on a hot summer night? Not a Jager bomb after a few glasses of whiskey?

Drinks are like lovers... You get to choose which you are in the mood for on any given night. You think about them, crave them, then lovingly wrap your hands around them and slowly take that first taste... You can take them slowly, savoring each sip- making it last longer, or you can take it quickly, barely taking the time to enjoy the flavor, but getting satisfaction immediately.

If you don't want to be with the same drink all night, try another one- or another. No one is counting. Maybe you skip from wine to visit liquor. Maybe you are true blue and go with bottle after bottle of the same beer. Maybe you cheat a little on your beer with a shot or two... Naughty...

I cannot imagine not having this love affair with alcohol every now and again. What is it like to just choose to never have her in your life- especially when you've never experimented with her? Never to know the warm feeling of happiness slowly wash over you until you can feel your worries and stresses just slide right off your shoulders?

Okay, yes, you'd miss out on those rough nights where all those ladies meeting in the nightclub of your tummy start fighting it out and someone gets thrown out (er..up) but how often does that happen after your 25th birthday, really? Maybe it's the fear of loosing your inhibitions and doing or saying something stupid. That happens to me... A LOT. But usually it's funny stories like that that weave together the tapestry of my friendship with a lot of people.

I just don't get it. Do you, my sweet little Jameson bottle? No, I didn't think so....

Holding Patterns

2007-05-31T13:27:00.000-04:00

So all aspects of my life are on hold.

Like a blinking red light... Not being talked to, not being hung up on. Not taking action, not being inactive. Just kind of in limbo. Like a plane doing circles in the sky. Going no where, but not holding still.

And it's making me insane.

I have always been so...ALIVE. I do things, I feel things. But because I'm in this waiting room of life, I feel nothing. I do nothing but see myself move on auto-pilot. Get up, go to work, come home, cook dinner, play with kids, watch baseball (the ONLY thing that makes me feel anymore) go to sleep. Rinse and repeat. That's all I do.

So I wait. For more money, for more time, for someone to DO something first. It's my home life where nothing is what it looks like... It's work- where I am stuck until I get xyz years under my belt, or until after the renovation, or until I find something better...

And all the books say "Take control, only you can make it happen....Blahblahblah". That's great and all, if YOU can make it happen without money...or if YOU can make it happen with no family or if YOU can make it happen with four children who depend on you for their happiness. That is a lot of weight to carry around by itself.

So I need a book. Or some smart ass friends... To tell me how in THE HELL you find your own happy when 4 little people depend on you for theirs and those may not always coincide. How you take control and "make it happen" with no dollars, damn near no sense and without hurting people who don't want ANYTHING to happen holding you down.

Crap. I just wrote those stupid introspective blogs that I hate... Fahk.

A moment of mush

2007-05-29T16:02:00.000-04:00

And another thing about my baseball weekend... Just an itty-bitty bit of mush and then I promise no more...

I want to be caught by the KissCam on the Jumbo Tron. And by someone who knows how. And by someone I want the whole wide world to see kissing me... And I was depressed beyond words to realize I may never get that.

LET'S GO RED SOX!

2007-05-29T12:20:00.000-04:00

Back to work again after a fabulous baseball weekend in Arlington. Took my monsters up to Ameriquest Field for the Rangers vs Red Sox games Saturday and Sunday. Went on a tour of the ballpark too!

The 12 year old and I went Saturday night and had a blast. We got rained on and didn't care, we yelled and clapped and chanted and woo-hoo'd. We moved down to awesome seats around the 8th inning and were about 5 rows up from the Sox dugout. Can I tell you how in LOVE with Mike Lowell I am? Seriously, if you EVER need anything done, that dude just does it. He's not flashy like Manny or a big power hitter like Papi, he just gets in there and gets it done. And he's so...dreamy... *sigh* (I totally just lost all my guy readers, didn't I?)

It was a fun night, Sox were hot, Texas was not, no one messed with me- not even the a-hole with the frozen margaritas who I begged for and he never materialized. Paps closed the show- good Lord, he is impressive. We watched the tape back and I didn't even realize I was telling my daughter, "Just look at him, watchwatchwatch how he looks at the batter" over and over again.

Sunday was rainy at first, but we made our way out with all 4 kiddos. My boys were in awe of how big everything was. At 6 & 3, I can just imagine. They were all a little disappointed that Papi was sitting this one out, but Tek was catching, so it made up for it a little. Our seats were wayyy to high for my liking, but what made them bad seats was the giant bastard who sat behind us. So my Sox are introduced and we are all cheering. My kids are thrilled to be at a "REAL" game, hearing the names they've only seen on TV. Then this ass-clown starts BOO-ING behind my 6 year old little boy.

"Mommy, that man is booing" he says. So I say to my son while looking at this ass, "I know honey, some people are not good sportsmen. You are 6 and have more class."

AssClown then proceeds to make every tired ass Red Sox "Curse" comment known to man. "They just sucked for 90 years, it was fake blood, they're whiners, blahblahblah." Fortunately for him and his wife, I was with my kids or I would have beat him just on general principal.

So we get our 3 run homer (Woooooooo!) and I make sure to have my kids up on their chairs and squealing good and loud. (We went on into the next few pitches, but I wanted to make sure he knew how happy we were). The Rangers came back with their own 3 run homer and I had to listen to AssClown hoot and hollar. I was waiting for a banjo and a 21 gun salute to go with the dip and fat ass completing the red neck ensemble, but I had to settle for the "YEEHAW--- THAT'S HOW WE DO IT IN TEXAS!"

No, bitch. That is not how we do it in Texas. Ewww.

So we are up on them again and I look to see who's warming up in our bullpen. YESS! It's Okie! Wooohoo! So I tell my kiddos and they are excited. AssClown hears me and says very loudly to his wife "Must be that Jap pitcher they bought for a billion dollars. They're the Evil Empire, you know."

Oh. No. You. Didn't.

I had to say something. I wanted to say something with a LOT of f words in it, but I had witnesses... But regardless if my children bore witness to it or not, I had to set him straight...

"No, actually. That would be the Yankees. And that pitcher is an amazing closer. You'd know that if you paid more attention to baseball than turning the game then drinking beer until you passed out. Who you might be thinking of is Matsuzaka, who is a STARTER and does not make a billion dollars. Any more questions?"

He just smirked, waited until I turned around and called me a bitch. Whatever.

My 6 year old boy is the funnest person I have ever been to a game with. He was taunting the Little League players in the next section, he was screaming "LET'S GO RED SOX" at all the wrong times, he was standing in his seat cheering at every ball that looked like it might be a home run- even if it was a pop up. He is awesome. I let him be as loud as he wanted and I'm sure he annoyed AssClown behind us a lot. He deserved it. Needless to say, we won and that jerk left quickly and quietly. We stayed and cheered for our boys until the section cleared out.

We do love our Sox even down here in Texas.

Martini Miss

2007-05-21T10:39:00.000-04:00

I LOVE this picture. I am not usually a big fan of nudes, but this picture speaks to me... This woman speaks to me. She's saying... "Yeah, I'm in a giant martini glass- so the fuck what?"

No. Seriously. Not just that. She is not perfect. And I love that. See her cute little rolls? Her not hugly inflated boobs? But she is naked and doesn't care. Maybe she dove into that giant martini and drank it all. But she is completely unapologetic for any of it. It doesn't hurt that she also kicked those friggin olives outta there- I would've too.

You can make up your own story when you look at her. Who is she trying to seduce? Is he watching her? Has he already been seduced and now he's looking and appreciating her? Or maybe she is just there for herself. Look at her... just look at her for a minute.

This woman is beautiful and powerful and fearless. She's my new hero. Maybe someday she'll be me.

There's no crying in baseball!

2007-05-20T15:21:00.000-04:00

But damn...after the 0-14 red-headed stepchild asswhooping we took last night, I kinda wish there was....

It wouldn't have been nearly as painful if I hadn't danced around the house yesterday after my Red Sox beat the Braves 13-3 in the first game of the double-header. So I danced and woohoo'd, I shook my butt at the TV, I sang "weeeee are the champions...of the wooooorld!"...and then three hours later we got our asses handed to us in an extremely embarassing fashion. A shut-out? For real?

We still have the best record in baseball. We are still friggin amazing. Guess everybody needs a little reality check when they are that awesome...

Speaking of awesome, I have tickets for next Saturday's Sox game vs the Rangers! I am so excited!!! I haven't seen my actual boys since Spring Training! Now they are coming to me here in Texas! So I will pack up the car, drive 3 hours, see the game, drive back home 4 hours later and be blissfully happy about. Not just happy, but I'm even thinking about driving back and then doing it again Sunday so I can take my kids. My girls are d-y-i-n-g to see a 'real' game. And how proud am I that they don't consider it a 'real' game unless it's the RED SOX? I mentioned it to the oldest and her only words were "Oh my God....You mean I might get to see Papi...FOR REAL?"

*sigh* I got a little teary...

A different kind of blogging altogether...

2007-05-18T15:04:00.000-04:00

So here is my thinking on blogging: Entertain me. Tell me funny stuff. Make me laugh or educate me on something I don't know about. Let me read actual writing that amuses and informs. I don't want to hear whining, or bullshit or about a that dog pooped in your yard, a bird that flew by or some random poetic, flowery sounding prose. You want to have a diary? Fine. Get out your emotions, your thoughts, your feelings, your dreams for the future or a 500 word page essay on how beautiful your kid is. Write all that shit down, and lock it up so no one else has to read it.

My thoughts on this stem from the fact that I myself have a VERY hard time blogging. I've tried my hand on myspace. Most of the time I come up with zip unless something particularly amusing has happened that day or I made a funny I felt compelled to share. I can't share with you what's in my head, my heart, my soul. I just can't do it. I share a lot. But that stuff is hard for me. And how is it meaningful if everybody and their perverted, ass-scratching Uncle Fred is reading about it on the www?

I'm not gonna blog in the traditional sense. My new Pretend Boyfriend Fitzy (www.townienews.com) is my hero. (Actually that's not even his real name...or person...but whatever- it makes him a better Pretend Boyfriend) He doesn't get in front of his camera to do a webcast and bitch about his mortgage payment or tell us how much he loves his wife. He gets up there and makes us pee ourselves with laughter. Yes, he loves the Red Sox almost as much as me... so I'm a little partial to him, but seriously? It is so friggin refreshing to look forward to someone who makes all your problems go away for 5 minutes and doesn't expect you to take their crap in return.

So this is the blog that's not. It will be silly stories about a 30 ish Mommy who trys to be classy and starts the night with martinis and perfect make-up...and ends up being the drunk chick singing into something and doing Jager bombs. (*Sigh* Dammit! Why does that always happen?) About the girl who loves baseball and her crazy 4 children and all the stupid stuff they do. I will not blog on my parenting methods, (I only have one of those and it's this- Don't Let Anybody Die) but I'll tell you how my son calls his penis his "peanut". I won't write sonnets about how beautiful my children are, but they are. I have no doubt there will a drunk story or two (or ten...thousand) but I promise no drunk love letters to anyone.....Except the Sox.