All Wound Up

There are few things that put marzipan in my pie plate, quite like poor customer service. Now, I’ll be the 1st to admit that, having spent a decade or so in retail servitude, I have pretty high standards when it comes to being serviced shopping. Here’s my latest tale of whoa…

Three Days till Christmas/Weekend Re-Cap

and i'm so excited i can't even stand it!

It was cold and snowy all Friday night so we hunkered down with christmas cookies and a frozen lasagna and watched the Closer and my new prime-time soap obsession, Footballer's Wives .

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Saturday was a day of "supposed to's". First, i was supposed to volunteer with my company's GLBT group to pack "blizzard boxes" at The Center for local AIDS/HIV+, homebound people, but was guilted into backing out so i could take my mom to finish her Christmas shopping. When i called her in the morning she bailed out on account of the snow & ice. So, i called Squirt and hit the mall with her; hjinx ensued (all i can say is that i wish i had an uncle with whom i could belt out Mariah's All i Want For Christmas, lemme tellya). we shopped, we lunched, we laughed. i love that kid and it's great to see her growing up into such a cute young woman (she's 12 going on 30 and has finally discovered make-up and perfume). After i dropped her off, i went home and watched Christmas Eve on Sesame Street which was my favorite Christmas special when i was a kid. it still made me all weepy (especially the Gift of the Magi scene with Ernie and Bert). Stephen rolled his eyes, patted my hand and retired to the kitchen to make a crumb cake to bring to my friend Paul's house later that evening. There, we hung out, caught up (his boyfriend had been planning a trip to Haiti for Halloween and we'd not seen him since) and ate the worst pizza i've ever had (i've still got agita), and played Wii (Brain Age Academy and Mario Party 8). a good time was had by all, much laughing and fun.

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Sunday was spent, largely, in my pajamas. i spend 90% of the day wrapping the last of my gifts and watching Buffy (Stephen: "Screw Twilight. Buffy and Angel are the greatest vampire love story, ever") while Stephen did...something (i've honestly got no idea, that's how absorbed i was in wrapping). later on we went food shopping, which we'd not done in about 3 weeks and i subtly engineered giving him another* one of his gifts** a few days early. afterward, we got back into our pj's, he wrapped his gifts (cleverly concealed in Amazon.com boxes) and we continued our Buffy-thon; all in the warm glow of the Christmas tree.

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now it's pretty early here, there's not alot of people about; it's colder than GW's heart outside, but wonderfully crisp and bright. i love this time of year!

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* i had ordered him a fresh sourdough sread "starter" from King Arthur's Flour a few weeks ago. i called their Customer Service center and requested the delivery be delayed so that the starter would arrive this week and the rep said "no problem". sadly the damn thing arrived 2 days after i ordred it, so he's been making sourdough bread for the last 2 weeks.

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**he's been talking about making Panettone for years but could never find the "pans" (oversized cupcake wrappers). i saw them on the King Arthur's website, and picked them up for him a few weeks ago. since he's off all week he figured it'd be a good opportunity to try out his recipe, even though he didn't have the pans. while shopping, he put some of the ingredients we didn't already have (candied citrus peel, golden raisins) in the cart and then took them out again. i put them back and gave him the pans when we got home.

Runaway

i am not a runner. at my best, i'm a "swift walker".
i come from people "built for comfort, not for speed"; short, rather stout, flat footed, and fur covered people. if you're picturing a human sized platypus, you're not far off. growing up, i was never the kid expected to win relay races or last more than 3 minutes in dodge ball; on my pee-wee soccer team i was "left defense", since i was built like a little dump truck and kicked like a Rockette. clearly this seems to run in our genes*.

Anyway, if there's one period of time i'd rather not run, it's 1st thing on a Monday morning. Sadly, that's how i spent this morning from 5:36 to 5:45; 1st running after "the early bus"** to no avail, and then walking the 1/4 mile downhill, to the next stop (where four other buses which also go to 34th street stop). halfway down the hill, i saw 3 of the other buses pulling in, so ran down and caught one, just in time. i collapsed in the seat, sweating a priest at the Cub Scout Jamboree and wheezing, with shin splints. by the time i got to manhattan i was cold and damp and limping and cursing my furry little teapot forebears.

what a way to start a monday.

*Squirt's nickname on her basketball and softball teams is Dead Man Walking. if you want a fly ball caught or a 3 pointer sunk from mid-court, she's your girl; if you want a base stolen or fast court action...um...try some other little girl.
**not my usual 5:59 bus, but the one right before it, which gets me to my desk by 6:45 as opposed to 7:10; one of my co-workers from my old department is out today and tomorrow, so i'm covering his desk as well as doing my usual work, so i wanted to get there early.

Birthday Weekend Highlights

Best Part:

• Bri-the-Pie-Guy's homemade Strawberry Rhubarb pie. so fantastic that i've rationed 9 points a day to have slice every night before bed. seriously...the best pie ever.

the Worst Part:

• Sunday. between getting a giftcard to Marshall's from my parents* and our computer dying unexpectedly, sunday was not a good day. i loathe my brother, get depressed when i see Squirt getting older (she's got boobs) and her sister look at me like she's never met me before.

the in between, fun stuff:

• John and Justin on Thursday at Applebees (yes virginia, you can have a birthday dinner for 20 points), which tastes even better with good friends.
• spending a scant 4 hours with Bri-the-Pie-Guy and Mrs. Pie-Guy, whom i miss terribly; even moreso after we've only hung out for a couple of hours. they gave me a fabulous iTunes giftcard which i fully intend to use as soon as our computer is resurrected.
• playing Stephen's gift, Lego Star Wars for Wii, for hours on Saturday (while waiting for the dishwasher repairman who never showed); love it.
• playing Justin and John's gift, Mario Party 8, Saturday night with Justin, Paul and Stephen. absolutely awesome! it's a little bit "boardgame" and a little bit "Telemundo/RaiUno Gameshow". i just wish john wasn't home sick.

*seriously though...have we met? if i've spent more than 20 bucks in Marshall's, in the last 5 years (most of which was on underwear), i've spent alot. i know it's the thought that counts, but wtf?

Mr. Evil (I Didn't Have the Patience to Go to Evil Medical School)

i think i might be a horrible person (i mean aside from the last two posts), but in the spirit of attempting to be a better person, i'll give you the short version of why:

on Saturday, we took Squirt to lunch and then to play miniature golf. midway through golfing i had the bright idea to buy 3 tokens for the batting cages. after our last hole i gave 1 to stephen, 1 to Squirt and kept one for myself. not unexpectadly, stephen looked surprised when i handed him one, but grabbed a helmet and bat nonetheless. fast forward 10 pitches to when he screams, throws the bat down, grabs his thumb and blows off a litany of profanity that made me blush. we grab an "ice pack" from the attendent (it was a re-filled Dasani Bottle, frozen) and sit on a bench. the thumb, meanwhile, is swelling and turning the most gorgeously un-thumblike shade of cerulean. i'm all set to drive to the hospital.

(begin unnecessarily long flashback) i'm totally thinking back to when i was 7, in Little League and got hit in the thumb by a pitch. mom and dad rushed me to the hospital 'cuz the pressure under my thumbnail was unbearable. we got this doctor who had only been in the United States for 3 days who wanted to use a paperclip and a lighter to relieve the pressure(i swear to god, ask my mother). my mother screamed. my father screamed. i screamed. the nurse screamed that they had a laser for that. the laser was used, the pressure was relieved and eventually the nail turned black and fell off. (end unnecessarily long flashback)

Stephen tells me no, it's not that serious. i attempt 3 more times and get 3 more refusals; everything's fine. he's a PT, i'm in finance. slightly mollified, i grab his discarded bat and helmet and hit 18 of the 22 softballs pitched to me.

fast forward 4 hours (past the kicking myself that i suggested the batting cages and past the frequent suggestions that blue isn't a good color for thumbs and maybe we should go to the hospital) to me standing over the sink, washing a couple of things that can't go in the dishwasher. in walks stephen, clutching his dripping homemade ice pack. "i think maybe i should go get this x-rayed; it might be broken". i ask him to give me ten minutes to finish the dishes and he looks at me like i asked him to cut off a pinkie toe, dip it in sugar and feed it to me. dishes get done, i grab my keys and we head to the ER.
en route, i sheepishly ask him if he would mind if i stop at Starbucks.
same look. so i ask him:

me: is that wrong?
him: ...no. it's fine.
m: no...really...am i a bad person for wanting to finish out my points with an Iced Vanilla Latte` while we're sitting in the ER? i mean, we're gonna be there for at least 3 hours...
h: no...whatever...i guess not.
m: ok...'cuz, well, we waited 4 hours, i figured it wasn't as urgent as all that, y'know?
h: it's fine. whatever.
m: am i being a bad boyfriend again?
h:well, you're not Bree Van De Kamp and i'm not having a heart attack.

everything worked out well. there was no talk of lasers or hot paperclips. the thumb isn't broken, it's only badly bruised. he needs help buttoning his shirt, but aside from that he's ok.
it was a really good iced latte, by the way.

Welcome to 2007

Squirt and i had lunch on Saturday at the local TGI Friday's (Turkey Burger & salad: 9 points). after reading the report she did on the 1996(?) Olympic men's basketball Dream Team and some chit-chat about school and her softball team, she got very serious. she told me that a friend of a friend called her a "manly lesbian" (or "lez-bean" since it was typed on AIM).

10 years old. i guess this is where it starts nowadays.

On "the Children"

i'm never having kids. if i'm lucky, someday in the distant future, i'll get a dog. (for now) nobody cares if we own a dog. nobody has mentioned how having two daddies or mommies affect Yorkies. hell, even single people are allowed to own pets without too much drama. unless they pass a law bringing back child labor or slavery, i'll never have a child.

reason # 1 is that i'm not a fan of kids. a couple of them are cool (Squirt, for instance), but on the whole i think most of them are assholes. the majority of kids are not very bright, and tend to be loud, mean, high strung and incredibly disrespectful (yes, i lump "teenagers" into the same category as 6 year olds). i know it's their parent's fault, but still i'd rather have a Yorkie or a Schnauzer.

reason #2: it seems that the quickest way to get into someones wallet or heart is to flash the face of a kid next to your message. From AIDS charities to White Supremacists, at one point or another every group has pimped "the children" for their cause. it should come as no surprise that when i hear people making plaintive cries on behalf of "the children", i wanna smack someone.

high on the list of those i'd like to Zsa-Zsa are those who toss "the kids" around when speaking of the evils of Gay Marriage. in addition to destroying civilization as we know it, letting us get married will hurt...you guessed it..."the children". apparently if we're allowed to marry, amidst the worldwide Apocalypse, kids will actually have the nerve to dream of growing up and marrying whomever they want and possibly turn out to be more tolerant (and therefore evil/liberal) adults. closer to the present, they'd also be scarred by seeing all those nasty fags and dykes engage in the same mundane gentrification as their parents. also, let's not forget how terrible it would be for all those kids who already have two moms or dad; Cher only knows what emotional damage would be caused if their parents were allowed to tie the knot.

reason # 3 is that i have alot of resentment towards children. in this country, i think we give kids(and parents) too much power. children decide what's acceptable on television, in the movies, on the radio, and in print. it's their "impressionable minds" that cause art exhibits to be labeled "unsuitable" and close "adult book stores". bad parents have the ability to turn a perfectly nice restaurant into a loud, unruly and terribly uncomfortable experience by allowing their children to behave like the monsters they are. how many airplane flights, elevator trips or bus rides were made hours longer by a screaming child? ever have a co-worker bring their child to work? how much work did you really get done?

is it any wonder why i dislike kids so much? who knew that even before they could vote that the little fuckers could hold so much power over society?

"The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame"~ Oscar Wilde

Happy Accidents

sometimes things work out for the best, even when (at the time) they feel like a total kick in the nuts. take this weekend, for instance...

through a comedy of errors, the plans to spend the weekend with MS and Nil fell through. don't ask how, Mr Nosy; suffice to say that they didn't happen, but they will commence this weekend. sadly, this left Stephen and i on the NJ Turnpike with a loaf of homemade bread, a Mixed-Berry-Cheesecake Trifle and some Weight Watchers friendly roadtrip snacks. enroute to the old homestead, we stopped at my new favorite store, Target where i found the most fabulous Aquaman t-shirt and some newer smaller work pants to match my newer, smaller ass. we also picked up the coolest microwave corn popper, so now i don't have to worry about not having brown paper lunch bags in the house. when we finally got home, it was still early enough to put up 4 loads of laundry and go grocery shopping. needless to say, i went to bed feeling like i accomplished more in that one day than i have in weeks.

sunday we went to my mom's and hung out with the family. Frangelica and Squirt were there, and we learned that Franki is partial to showtunes (the only time she stopped crying is when my mom was singing South Pacific). aside from that, for once it was a fairly peaceful dinner. we all just hung out and bullshitted with the minimum of drama. rather than waste the Trifle (read: sit at home in the dark with the bowl and two spoons), we brought it to mom's where it was devoured by all those in attendance. i'm glad we brought it, it gave me some ideas for this weekend; how to re-make it: bigger and better!

even more exciting: i finally fit back into my size 34 jeans! this WW thing really works! who knew?

Critical Math

i've always been bad at math. i mean...really, really bad.

in grammar school, i was that kid who had the perpetually lost look on his round little face when the teacher would talk about integers, long division without remainders and anything to do with fractions. the only mathematically concepts i ever grasped in grammar school were roman numerals. high school was even worse, when we got onto algebra and trigonometry. the only thing i learned was to dread math class as much as gym. numbers became a language i never fully grasped; completely expressionless and devoid of passion, like Chinese or Korean. it lacks poetry, expression or emotion. i struggled through, for three years, barely passing every term and then opting not to take it my senior year. when i did graduate, it was without a New York State "Regents" diploma (i failed all three exams). i fared a little better on the SATs, somehow pulling a 500 out of my ass on the second try. my awful HS grades and pitiful performance on the SATs landed me in "Math Appreciation" my freshman year of college (it was a rehash of everything i failed to learn in HS). that was the last math class i ever took, and boy am i glad. ironically, though, i've stumbled into a job where i'm dealing with numbers all day long; calculating interest and dividends and holding back for accumulating debits. thankfully, Microsoft has a trusty calculator built into all it's Windows packages.

the reason i bring this up is because, at lunch today Squirt attempted to teach me some "new math". Specifically, the NYS Board of Ed's newest way of teaching multiplication to NY's youth. it took her all of 10 minutes and she used the back of a TGI Friday's placemat and a red crayon. i'm not sure how she did it, but she mulitplied 70 and 80 using a box split into four quardants. when the smoke cleared she had the right answer, but i'll be damned if i know how she did it.

much like when she attempted to explain the way Major League Baseball is set up, she tried to explain how she got her answer (5600), but no matter how she explained it...it didn't make sense. call me old school, but it seemed a bit frivolous to move beyond the basics (7 x 8 = 56; tack on the two 0's and you have 5600). she assures me, however that any other way to multiply is simple de classe and hopelessly retro.

next week she's going to explain fractions at Applebees using suger packets and toothpicks. till then, i'll stick with my trusty calculator and a hefty sense of inferiority.

"Let's stay in tonight/Maybe disconnect the phone/The correct arithmetic/Just two of us at home"~One and One Make Five (the Pet Shop Boys)

Friday I'm In Love

another day is over.
it's just before bedtime. stephen and i just got home from Dinner and a Movie, sushi and Because I Said So, respectively. the sushi was damn good (Philadephia Roll, Boston Roll and 1/2 a House Special Roll [white asparagus and black-pepper tuna inside, spicy yellowtail outside]: 10 points!) and the movie was cute; Mandy Moore is just cute as a button, but somebody needs to put Diane Keaton down...it's time. the poor old girl is just shrill and irritating.
it was just really terriffic just to go out on a date with Stephen. it's an oasis in the midst of our terribly busy lives.
maybe i'll post tomorrow...
maybe after i cash my paycheck...
maybe after i pay my cellphone bill...
maybe after i take Squirt out to lunch...
maybe after i run some Valentines Day-prep errands...

maybe not.

New Year's Weekend Recap

the holidays are finally over and it's back to work/life as usual. New Years was fun; jenn and brian came over, as planned, but we basically just sat around eating, drinking and talking (we never got to play Taboo, to my disappointment). it was nice and chill; they really are wonderful people and i can't imagine ringing in the new year with anybody else; they've already invited Stephen and i to their place for next year.

my friend, Erin had her Miracle Baby on saturday night, by C-Section. it was a long and arduous process for her and her husband to conceive, but it looks as though he was worth all the doctors, needles and drugs. we swung by the hospital yesterday, dropped off a super-soft teddy bear for the kid and a box of Oreos for mom. he's a cute little guy; Connor James, 21" and 8.something pounds. i'd post a picture, but blogger hates me. mama and child are doing quite well and are set to go home today. now if only my nephew (yes, we have confirmation of a penis) would take a cue and get a move on.

in a truly surprising twist, i got to spend all of Saturday with Squirt. i picked her up for lunch and she wound up coming back home with me. she helped Stephen make a couple of pizzas and we hung out to watch the Incredibles. a good time was had by all and i was most disappointed to take her home at 9. i'm hoping we can make this a regular thing; i miss Uncle David/Squirt time.

Stephen's off from work today, as restitution for having to work New Years Eve, and i'm glad. it'll give him an opportunity to relax a little bit. he's still not feeling 100% and is having a terrible time eating solid foods (you really don't wanna know what happens when he does). i'm hoping he either just takes the time to chill out and couch (verb) or take a ride to the doctor to find out exactly what's wrong with him.

incedentally, how do you like the new color scheme?

Thanksgiving Weekend Re-Cap

it's been a few days, kids and here's what you missed (in no particular order)...

1. Thanksgiving: it's just as i said it would be, only without the appetizers. thankfully mom changed her mind at the last minute about them. the food was wonderful and plentiful; i'm still a little bit full. halfway during the meal Squirt announced that she would like everyone to give her an idea what we all wanted for Christmas, because she was going shopping with her mother on Sunday. i found out later, from her father, that she's been squirrelling away all the giftcards and money that she's gotten as gifts over the last few months to use to buy her Christmas gifts for other people. i was so moved i almost started to cry. it's very Gift of the Magi...



2. the pumpkin cheesecake: this is the 2nd year i've made it and the 2nd time i've had to scrap it and begin another, halfway through. last year i'd mistakenly doubled the amount of butter when making the graham cracker crust (and had it ooze out of the bottom of the spring-form pan). not really a big deal. this year, however, after the cake was in the oven i sat in front of it, licking the spoon (yeah? what of it?) and i found a piece of glass the size of a baby tooth. apparently, we'd broken a glass somewhere in the kitchen and there were still shards of glass lurking, unseen, around. So, rather than risk it, i threw out cheesecake number 1 and started from scratch. it was 11pm, the night before Thanksgiving...i'd just worked the whole day and was in absolutely no mood. i cursed, i growled, i slammed things like a toddler. it was worth the do-over, because the 2nd one was absolutely marvelous and devoid of any and all lethal debris.



3. Black Friday: i thought i'd get to sleep a little, sadly i was mistaken. stephen left for work at 6:40 and called ten minutes later to tell me the bus didn't come. so i rolled out of bed and drove him to the bus stop to meet the chick he's carpooling with. then i went back home and cleaned the house for the next 12 hours, in preparation for our quasi-engagement party on Saturday. i dusted, i vacuumed, and i polished wood. by the time i was done, the house was immaculate. i was only a little bit content, since it came at the expense of attending Nil's birthday get-together at Mario Battali's restaruant, Otto. i sacrificed Nil, MS and olive oil gelato, for sparkling mirrors and dust free doorjambs. quite honestly, i don't think it was worth it.



4. Saturday: the party went well. our parents came, as did my brother and his family and his sister and her family. we ordered a tray of chicken rollatini and spaghetti with garlic and oil from the pizzeria we frequent. the food was good and everyone seemed to have a good time. we also served these wonderful appetizers: homemade mini-quiches (bacon, cheddar, mushroom and zucchini) and an artichoke-sundried tomato tapanade, for which stephen made the most amazing flatbreads. it was nice, because it was the 1st time my brother, his wife and Squirt, got to meet Stephen's family.



5. the After-Party: we joined John at Staten Island's newest "gay night". it was cute and the space has alot of potential, but personally i think it would make a much better lounge than club. the music was a little much considering how small the room is, and the strobe lights tended to blind you if you were facing the bar, so it was terribly difficult to see the muscle-bound, half naked italian bartenders. it was a little bit pointless, truth-to-tell. there was the usual mix of the new generation of kids with fake ID's and SI's has-beens rubbing elbows and pelvises. it was nice to see that the lesbian contingent was also represented, though i think it's because SI's lesbian DJ extrordinaire (who shall remain nameless) was there spinning. i saw a few too many familiar faces in the crowd, still looking for love in all the wrong places. naturally/thankfully, after we left, the usual drama ensued.



6. Sunday: lazy day which included Buffy and Angel, munching on leftovers, food shopping and dropping off the car at the mechanics' so he could take a look at her speed tremor. stephen actually called me as i was writing this to tell me that the mechanic feels that the tremor is nothing to worry about. it'll either get worse or it won't. if it gets worse, we should worry about it then. i think i'll take MS's advice and get AAA.




7. Stephen decided not to surprise me, and told me that he's been planning our honeymoon: we're going to San Francisco! i'm really quite excited, as i've never been out to the left coast before and i've been dreaming of going to SF, ever since i read Tales of the City, a decade ago! i'm also really glad that he told me, so we can plan the trip together. i ran right out and bought Time Out's Guide to San Francisco to give me a heads up on what there is to see and do; Stephen's been there before, so he looked up a couple of places and added them to our tentative itinerary. naturally, i welcome any and all suggestions.

Lez Talk Frankly

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Oooh Baby!

i want a baby.
ok, pick up your jaw while i explain. i don't actually want a baby. i don't like kids...much. i only like them with rules and provisos: i like them in very small doses, no more than once a week, and for no more than a couple of hours at a time. Ward Cleaver, i'm not. i want a baby for the silliest and most selfish reason of all: i love to shop for baby stuff.
when my niece was born, i went crazy: little dresses with matching socks and headbands, jackets with gloves or muffs, skirts with sweaters and tights, jeans with t-shirts and cute little belts; then there were the hats. i LIVED to buy her hats. if an outfit had a matching hat, so did she. i'm a sucker for a little girl in a hat. the best part was that, apparently, i had wonderful taste because she always adored whatever i'd buy her. then, one day, everything changed. she turned six and started wearing boys jeans, t-shits and baseball caps. yup, she became a tomboy. that was four years ago, and now all she wants are Yankee jackets, Nikes and (in a couple of years) a sports bra.

MS e-mailed me yesterday to tell me that her two friends (a gay couple in Connecticut) are adopting twins. she asked where she could find baby clothes geared toward same-sex parents. if you click on the onesie above, you can see the best of the two sites i found! seeing all these baby things really makes it hard to wait for my next niece to be born, though i'll be honest: i was hoping for a nephew to by little sweater vests and baby sized khakis for :)

Go Team Go

As sort of an unofficial weekly tradition, my niece and i go to lunch almost every Saturday. it's really sweet and i look forward to it as "our" time. we stopped for a while, just because she had ballgames and we were just genuinely busy every weekend.
Anyhoo...

this past weekend, we were sitting in one of SI's 4 Applebees (does any town/borough need 4 Applebees? i don't think so) when she started talking to me about baseball. it truly amazed me that this girl, 20 years my junior, knows more about baseball than anyone i know. we're talking team and individual player batting averages, stats, etc. If she told me that Derek Jeter had 12 birthmarks behind his left knee, in the shape of the constellation Cancer, i'd believe her. she's that good. what's even more ironic and comedic (and pathetic) is that her knowledge of baseball is in direct correlation to my lack of knowledge; as smart as she is, is as dumb as i am.

we sat there for well over an hour, in which time she explained the breakdown of the National and American leagues; apparently the two leagues are divided into three subsections: AL East, AL West and something for the middle (AL Square-States?) ditto for the NL. then she went through a 20 minute monologue on how the All-Star teams are picked for both leagues. she let me ask as many questions and i needed to, explained using appropriately small words and spoke slowly as not to confuse me; she didn't condescend once during the entire tutorial. it was like having lunch with Jimmy the Greek in pigtails.

now, don't get me wrong, i think it's terrific that she's got such a wealth of information at her disposal (Auntie Mame was right: knowledge is power) i could listen to her talk about it for hours (despite my dis-interest in the actual topic). i'm just slightly envious that she knows so much and is interested in baseball as much as she is. when i was her age i honestly couldn't care less about sports, especially baseball. Ok, that really hasn't changed much, but still...i was on a little league team for about 5 years and the only the only things i remember were being hit by the ball and consequently rushed to the hospital (3 times) and standing in deep deep right field (that's the one behind the pitcher, right?) picking flowers to give to my mom between innings (i'm not joking). all the rest is a blur of boredom, discomfort and fear of leatherbound projectiles. we also went to a couple of Mets games when i was a kid, but all i remember of them is Hotdogs and the big foam finger; oh and Hat Night! i was very happy when we'd go on Hat night.

ironic that i actually felt compelled to "come out", right?

She and i aren't going to lunch this weekend (Stephen and i have a Pampered Chef show to do in Queens, and she has a birthday party), but i'm sure we'll go next weekend. i hope so, she promised to explain why the Designated Hitter rule has killed the game of baseball.

"Well I was just wonderin' why you would throw home when we got a two-run lead. You let the tying run get on second base and we lost the lead because of you. Start using your head. That's the lump that's three feet above your ass"~ Tom Hanks (A League of Their Own)

Balls (Part 4)

the tournament is over and my neice's team are the champions! last night was the last game of the series, and to tell the god's honest truth, it was the toughest game they played. it lasted the entire six innings and up until the last, they score was tied 1 to 1. both teams were evenly matched and watching it was so incredibly tense i almost passed out. in the end, they won 6 to 2. i have no idea where the team goes from here (if there's an inter-borough tournament or what), but she's happy and that's all that matters :)

in other niece/nephew related news...as i may have mentioned, the gals i know are all getting ready to give birth. earlier today Stephen's sister went in for a C-Section and gave birth to a BOUNCING BABY BOY! Evan Nicholas, 7lbs 11 oz. We're gonna drive out to see him and his mommy tomorrow.

"i can't have children...i hate them"~ Dr. Albright (3rd Rock from the Sun)

Balls (Part3) and Chains

First off, the continuing saga of my niece’s softball team…
They WON…AGAIN…! this time it was a TRULY fantastic game, right up until the end of the 6th inning. The other team was definitely on par with ours, though their pitcher was truly atrocious (lots of power, absolutely no control). After 2 hours and 6 innings, the score was 4 to 1, thanks (in no small way) to a base hit by my little love.
Next, I found this on Ryan Charisma's blog; it's a short commercial and if i knew anything about HTML, i'd post it myself, but since i don't follow the link. i was so moved the 1st time i saw it i almost cried. call me a big sap :)
finally, please send stephen your congratulations, he got a new job! yup, that's right...he's leaving the hell-hole hospital he's been working at since the day we met and is headed for (hopefully) a better one on SI. i'm so happy for and proud him that words (almost) fail me. this was a truly big step :)
that's all for now, i'm sure there will be another post later today...

"i've got thirty six expresssions, sweet as pie to tough as leather"~ I'm the Greatest Star (Funny Girl)

Balls (Part 2)

(consider this to be an ongoing blog entry about my niece's Softball series)

Last night we went to the 2nd game of the Staten Island Little League Softball All-Star series. this game was the complete and total opposite of the 1st: it was long, it was drawn out, and it was an absolute massacre. we won ('cause, y'know, i'm a 9 year old girl too) by 21 runs. my niece is a wonderful player and even managed to get 2 base hits during one inning. it was fabulous how they went through the batting rotation at least once an inning! by the bottom of the 1st we were up 10 to 1. by the bottom of the 2nd they stopped changing the score board so as "not to mortify the other team".

at the end of the fourth inning (2 hours after the 8pm start time) the score was 22 to 1. it would've been a complete shut out (oooh saying that makes me feel SO butch!) but the other team was HANDED 1 run by a blatant bending of the rules which allowed a rather porcine 8 year old to steal home while another batter was walking to 1st. don't think that i didn't freak out over the egregious foul play, because freak out i did. actually, i spent quite an alarming portion of the game shouting like a baboon over terrible calls made by the obviously partial umpires. it was not pretty, boys and girls, and i admit that i am quite ashamed by my poor (read: hetero-esque) behavior.

the girls advanced to the next round and have another game on sunday at 5. i think i'm going to paint my face blue and white, to match the team's colors, to mark the occasion.

“When I'm hungry, I eat. When I'm thirsty, I drink. When I feel like saying something, I say it.”~ Madonna

Balls

As most of you know, I am not a sports fan. As a matter of fact, I’ve been known to actively avoid watching sports in all it’s myriad forms. Perhaps it goes back to growing up and playing (I use the term VERY loosely) Baseball on a little league team. I was awful. I was the kid in DEEP right field making necklaces of dandelions and outfield grass. I was the kid who screamed at incoming pop-flies and covered his head with his glove. I closed my eyes when I swung the bat and was more shocked than anyone on the field when I hit the ball. I was also “the fat kid”, so when I did hit the ball, it usually beat me to 1st base. To this day, it’s universally acknowledged that I’m slightly less athletic than Stephen Hawkings. Bearing that in mind, it’s really no surprise that I’ve reached the age of 29 without any interest in watching organized sports on television or at a stadium. There really isn’t one that I find even mildly entertaining (though Ultimate Fighting on Spike is sort of intriguing, but for different reasons). What is surprising is that I spent the entire weekend watching sports and was completely enthralled. Pick up your jaw and let me explain.

This weekend, we went out to NJ to visit Jenn and her husband at a fabulous BBQ. Jenn’s brother-in-law was there and insisted on watching the World Cup match between Portugal and Germany. This was, perhaps, one of the most interesting and (dare I say it) sports I’ve ever seen. Did you catch it? It was AMAZING. There is SO much action and passion to this game! It’s really no surprise that the ENTIRE WORLD gets off on it! (the real surprise is that Americans actually enjoy watching baseball, which is about as thrilling as watching grandma get a mani/pedi). We won’t even get into how hot the players are; considering the amount of running and jumping and kicking involved, it really goes without saying that they’re f’n RIPPED. So after 20 minutes I was absolutely HOOKED and couldn’t WAIT till Sunday to see the final match between Italy and France. We only caught the last few minutes, as we were at another BBQ at Erin’s house, but the company was much more preferable to sitting in front of the television. Next year (it does happen every year, right?) I plan on watching as much coverage as I can. the pic, below is of the Italian Soccer team in their Dolce & Gabana ad. Viva Italia.

After Sunday’s BBQ, we adjourned to the ball-field to watch my 9 year old niece play softball in game 1 of the Staten Island Little League All Star Series. Usually, the games have a 2 hour or 6 inning time limit (whichever comes 1st). unfortunately, they usually hit 2 hours LONG before they’re even CLOSE to 6 innings. The games seem to go on FOREVER and the scores read like basket ball games, with all the base stealing due to errors. It’s comedy. The All Star Game, however, was AMAZING. These little girls are the cream of SI’s crop of softball players. They moved like a well oiled machine with military precision. They were so serious and so focused that they all looked like they were 35 year olds that were shrunk in the dryer. I was beyond impressed, I was flabbergasted. The game was over in less than an hour. Six innings in less than an hour. The score was 3-0 (my niece’s team kicked ASS). The other team didn’t stand a CHANCE. It’s a shame that they don’t cultivate the girls like they do the boys. Some of these kids look like they could REALLY go far.

Her next game is tomorrow night at 8 o’clock and I can’t wait. I’ve become one of those uncles that stands up and screams and hoots and hollers every time ANYTHING happens. I have a bruise on my hand from clapping with my ring on and I’m a little hoarse. If they win the series, i think I’ll go insane. Who knew that you could that fascinated by balls without there being a man attached?

“My doctor told me I can’t be involved in any activity where balls fly at my face” “Well there goes your social life”~ Amber and Cher (Clueless)