30 August 2006

Now with more weeping for humanity!

I'd like to first state that I came to this story via The Superficial.

Let us try to get beyond the fact that this guy is making a sculpture based on the shit of a baby who has famous parents. And that the same sculptor made that abomination of Britney Spears giving birth. What really made me want to tear my hair out was this statement:

"It's partially a statement on modern media that 'celebrity poop' has more entertainment value than health, famine or other critical issues facing society and governments today," the Capla crew said in a statement, "and also the absurdity of the media coverage on Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes' new baby, Suri Cruise, which has reached stellar proportions, eclipsing far more notable events with more substance."

I can't believe this assclown is trying to talk about the entertainment value of famine. There is no entertainment value in famine. Trying to equate celebrity "news" with actual news or actual events "facing society and governments today" is just plain fucking stupid. I bet this assdart posts get-well messages to horses on the internet.

I agree to an extent with the latter part of the quote. However, all I ever really hear about media coverage on Suri Cruise is from The Superficial, or maybe "Best Week Ever." Where are all of these media outlets that are obsessing on some stupid baby? I don't watch E!, nor do I read People/US Weekly/whatever other entertainment rags there are. I manage to shield myself fairly successfully from all of this celebrity bullshit unless someone is making fun of it. And I don't have much trouble finding news of famines or other important issues facing society and governments.

Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to head home and start drinking myself to death.

28 August 2006

I weep for humanity.

That this messageboard exists at all is bad enough. That there have been around 100 posts today makes me want to hurt myself.

Hello Beautiful Boy. I'm thrilled to know your right hind is healing so nicely. You're always in my heart, on my mind, and in my prayers. I love you. MARY
Mary, 57; Raleigh, NC, USA
posted on 2006-08-28 13:38:18

Hey Buddy! How are you doing? Glad to hear of another good update. You are my hero. God bless you. Love, janice, Rosey, Missy, Scooter, Munchkin, Mini, and the rest of the gang.
Janice M. Richardson, 46; Alexandria, VA, USA
posted on 2006-08-28 13:10:08

Hi Darlin, Missed u over the weekend. Glad to hear you are still improving. Love you and hope u have a great day! Luv Luv, Pamela
Pamela Forrest, 53; Madisonville, TX, USA
posted on 2006-08-28 11:25:47

Holy fuck. It's a HORSE. Someone kill me. Please.

25 August 2006

Spectacle.


Not even nature's spectacle could keep The Flaming Lips and Sonic Youth from rocking the State Fair last night.

We managed to get in some cheese curds before the sky turned almost black and then that sickly green that signifies a fantastic thunderstorm. I won 60 tickets in the arcade while we waited out the storm. Oh, the prizes available to me were endless. "What did you get?" "Mustache comb. You?" "Fake mustache. Wanna comb it?" I settled on three plastic rings.

Things cleared up in time for the show and the weather ended up beautiful the rest of the night, even if my feet were still wet when I got home at midnight.

24 August 2006

I'd like to think I've helped contribute.

Forbes Lists America's Drunkest Cities

Coming in second on the Forbes list is another cold metropolitan area: Minneapolis-St. Paul. The twin cities ranked No. 2 for adults who reported having had a drink in the last month, No. 3 for binge drinkers and No. 12 for heavy drinkers, according to Forbes.

Wet t-shirt contest?

I'm heading to the Great Minnesota Get-Together tonight to see The Flaming Lips, Sonic Youth and The Magic Numbers. There may be some fair food (corn dogs, cheese curds, you get the idea) consumed. Oh who am I kidding? There will definitely be fair food consumed. I've gotta soak up that beer somehow.

The forecast calls for a 50 percent chance of thunderstorms starting this afternoon and pretty much all night. The shows at the fair Grandstand go on rain or shine. I don't really know what the policy is on severe thunderstorms. Also of note: umbrellas are not permitted in the Grandstand. Kick. Ass. I have no rain gear other than my poor umbrella.

For some reason, it seems completely appropriate to me to see this line-up (well Sonic Youth and the Lips, anyway) in the rain. I'm going to embrace it. And at least I had the forethought to switch from my pink, already-pretty-sheer-for-a-t-shirt Rapture t-shirt to basic black. Some days I'm not a complete moron.

22 August 2006

A fan in search of a team.

Last week, I wrote about breaking up with the Vikings. So, where does this leave me? I'm a football fan without a team. Where am I supposed to put all this excitement and adoration? I mean, it's not as if I'll lose all interest in football if I don't have a specific team to cheer for. It's not as if I'm new to the sport and need to choose a team. I spend most of Saturdays and Sundays throughout the Fall and Winter watching whatever football is on. Still, without a team to call my own, it feels a bit empty.

I'm a good fan; a loyal fan. I've been a Timberwolves fan since Day One. And man, have I suffered through some pain there. I've been a Twins fan since about fifth grade (when I started playing softball), which was before they won the 1987 World Series, thank you very much. Then there's my beloved Golden Gophers. Attending the University of Minnesota only intensified my love for them.

When I first started seriously talking about dumping the Vikings some of my Packer-fan friends immediately suggested I jump on that bandwagon. Thanks, but no thanks. I know I can't be a fan of any team in the division. But that's a start, right?

Over the years I developed an affection for a couple of other teams. I became a fan of the Patriots back when they drafted Drew Bledsoe out of Washington State. Really, up until I became mildly annoyed with them last season (mostly due to insufferable fans), New England had been my second-favorite team. My loyalty remained even after Tom Brady took over and Bledsoe went to Buffalo. Of course, it doesn't hurt that Brady is fairly dreamy, though he can't hold a candle to Bledsoe's drool-worthiness. So, yeah, I was annoyed with them last year, but what's this? In the 2006 draft, the Patriots took former Golden Gopher running back Laurence Maroney? Maybe the Pats are the team for me, after all.

I followed Bledsoe in Buffalo, but Lord Almighty, were those games painful to watch. Hotness does not make bad football fun to watch. When he went to Dallas last year, I really had trouble, because I've always hated the Cowboys. Then again, another former Gopher, Marion Barber III, was a Cowboy. I'll admit I was cheering for the Cowboys when I watched them last season. But now they have Terrell Owens. I cannot stomach rooting for a team that lists T.O. on its roster. I just can't. I want to punch that fucker in throat.

Then there's the Steelers. I started following Pittsburgh when they drafted Kordell Stewart. Yeah, I know. But I think I fell a little bit in love with him on a Saturday afternoon in 1994. I started watching the Michigan-Colorado game and fell asleep. I woke up just in time to see Stewart's Hail Mary pass to Michael Westbrook. I wasn't sure I was fully awake when I saw it; there was the possibility that I could have been asleep and dreaming. But no, it really happened. Over the years, I came to realize that Stewart sucked. I still liked the Steelers though. I wanted them to win the Super Bowl this past year (and in 1996, too). After Big Ben's mishap this summer, though, I'm not so crazy about the Steelers. Mostly because I can't stand stupidity.

I'd always liked the Titans. But with Steve McNair now a Raven, I'm not sure Drew Bennett's cuteness is enough to hold my attention. The Panthers held a special place in my heart, if only because I went to school in North Carolina for a year. I don't have a burning fire in my soul for either team, though. Yeah, I'll choose their side nine times out of 10 when I'm watching a game, but I nearly always choose a side when I'm watching any game.

Where does all of this analysis leave me? Looks like I'm still a girl without a team. What do I do now?

21 August 2006

Quite content.

I had a fantastic weekend. No big shows or a party or anything like that. I stayed in both Friday and Saturday nights. I cleaned. I cooked. I watched the Twins. Did some family stuff. And I relaxed all by myself.

I never would have thought a weekend like this could do so much to recharge and center me, and make me feel so ... happy, for lack of a better word. It feels weird to use it, though, because usually something happens to make me happy. This weekend it was the lack of stuff happening that did it. I just feel like I am better equipped to handle life.

Haha. That all sounds so new age-y, which is not me at all. I do quite like being comfortable with my own company and being happy with my life just the way it is. I knew I could get back to this place.

Sweet, merciful crap do I have baseball fever. More accurately it's Twins fever, of course. I'm so geeked up right now. I read everything I can get my hands on, including this post over at Tuesdays With Torii, which totally gave me goosebumps.

I wish some of my friends gave a crap about baseball. I go to games with my sister and nephew (and Jen this season!). I can coax Carrie into a game a year. It would just be nice to have someone with whom I could discuss the Twins or watch games with every now and again. They don't really care, though. Most of my friends either aren't into sports or are all about football. Booty Call Matt likes the Twins. He called today -- a whole day in advance -- to see if we could hang out and watch the game tomorrow. I guess it wouldn't hurt to have a little company, huh?

19 August 2006

Who needs the farmer's market?


The parental units came up today for their grandson's first soccer game of the year. Mom called me last week to ask what I wanted from the garden, so I asked what would be ready. She proceeded to go off on this litany of vegetables. I said I wanted everything but tomatoes. I don't like them enough to actually do anything with them myself.

When I arrived at my sister's place this morning, there were mom and dad, going through these bags and bags of veggies. It was like the farmers' market exploded all over the back of their Tahoe. They brought stuff for me, my brother and my sister and nephew. There was just so much. The picture above is only part of my haul, I put the rest of the stuff away. I got:

  • cucumbers
  • carrots
  • green pepper
  • potatoes
  • an onion
  • part of a cabbage
  • the foulest smelling broccoli ever
  • sweet corn
  • apricot jam
  • raspberry jam
  • an apple pie
  • bratwurst
  • ground pork
  • pork chops
  • apples


  • I have no idea how I will possibly get all of this eaten. Well, all of the veggies anyway. But dammit, I'm going to give it a shot. First on the agenda is that god-awful smelling broccoli. Hopefully the smell will go away once it's cooked. Or it will get worse and I'll never get rid of the smell.

    18 August 2006

    No real coherence or theme.

    I don't really have any overarching purpose or coherence to this post today. But it's not such a random collection as to require a list or bullet points. It is what it is, I guess.

    It's Friday, but it's a gray Friday. However, it could be a gray Monday. So, I shall thank my lucky stars that it is not a Monday, gray or otherwise. I had a really yummy peach this morning. I hope the other one in the fruit bowl at home is as tasty. They should be. I paid about a dollar for each of them.

    My horoscope for today:

    AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18). Your salty mood makes loved ones laugh. Your work benefits from it, too, as you put your personality into every task. However, do watch your words around sensitive souls who are inclined to take offense where none is meant.

    "Salty mood?" What the hell does that mean? I have an idea, I suppose. I'm not really sure how much personality I was able to inject into the report editing I did today. I tried to have a little extra flair on my proofreading marks, but I'm not sure the saltiness was properly conveyed.

    Thank goodness I don't plan to have much interaction with "sensitive souls" today. In fact, the only person I've actually spoken to was my boss. If all goes well, I won't exchange much more than passing pleasantries with anyone else, lest I inadvertently offend some poor creature.

    Speaking of poor creatures, I saw a mouse on the sidewalk as I was walking to Lake Calhoun yesterday. Instead of moving to the edge of the sidewalk or stepping over the mouse, which was in some kind of distress, I crossed the damn street. I'm so terribly afraid of mice -- we're talking phobia-level fear, here. But I didn't scream or anything. Just somewhat calmly crossed the street.

    My funky mood is passing, thanks in part to the end of my minor pregnancy scare. It wasn't really a scare. Sometimes a girl's mind tends to make mountains out of molehills when things are a little different one month, after the would-be father has left the country for five years and you don't know if you'll ever see him or speak to him again or if you even want to see him or speak to him again. Why yes, I am a worrier. Why do you ask?

    Huge series starts tonight for the Twins. The hated Bitch Sox come to town for three games, with the Bitch Sox up two in the AL Wild Card race. As it turns out the Red Sox and Yankees are also playing this weekend and JESUS CHRIST WOULD YOU JUST SHUT THE HELL UP ABOUT THEM. I can't get away. It's all over ESPN.com, the fantasy football message boards I frequent ... I don't care. The world does not revolve around you.

    While I watch the Twins tonight, I get to clean! The parental units informed me that they are coming to my place after we go to watch my nephew's soccer game. I moved in March and my mom wasn't able to help, so she wants to see the place. I'm sure she'll hate it; she's hated every apartment and dorm room I've ever inhabited. Why I'm bothering to clean is beyond me, too. She'll criticize my housekeeping skills, because I'll never be good enough at that, either. Thankfully, my fridge is stocked with beer. Because I will need it when they leave.

    17 August 2006

    Breaking up with the Vikings.

    This is the year I figure out if I really am able to end my horrible relationship with the Vikings. For years, I described myself as a bitter Vikings fan. And really, is there any other kind? My bitterness was inherited from my aunts, because the Vikings four Super Bowl losses happened either before I was born or when I was a just a tot. I remember bits and pieces from the 1980s, but I don't remember being particularly crushed by the 1987 season and the loss NFC Championship game. At 13 (and being of the female persuasion) I was probably still too young for the bitterness to stick. And then came the 1998 season. I finally experienced what it was like to have my own bitterness as a Vikings fan.

    After 1998, my relationship with the Vikings started getting more and more rocky. All this potential was wasted year after year. The 6-0 start in 2003 was more of the same. I tried so hard not to buy in. This was about the time I actually started comparing my Vikings fanhood to dating (why do I compare so many things to dating?). Getting sucked into believing that this time it would be different during that 6-0 start was just like starting to date a new guy. Things seem to be going so well. But you've been burned in the past, so you try so hard to hold back; try to avoid getting excited or thinking about anything but the immediate future. Eventually, though, he breaks you down and you give in and really start to like him. Then he starts acting like an ass, or stops calling. The Vikings were the same. I finally believed that things were going to be different. Then they end the season 9-7 and miss the playoffs in a final-game, last-second loss to Arizona.

    After that loss to the freakin' Cardinals, I said I was going to burn any piece of Vikings memorabilia I might happen to own. I didn't. I said it was over. But I went back for more in 2004, just like a bad relationship. He cheats on you, so you leave. But he begs you to come back. He says he's sorry. He says he's changed. And you buy it. But the trust is gone. Your relationship will never quite be the same. Things weren't the same with the Vikings, either. I was more skeptical. I wasn't going to get sucked in. It didn't help that I really didn't like a single player on the team. There wasn't a current player's jersey I would be caught dead wearing. I had no connection to the team. Maybe it helped that I started playing fantasy football with the 2004 season. There were players on other teams who I liked and in whom I had a vested interest.

    Then last year ... last year, it all fell apart. Kind of like how that light bulb finally clicks on in your head when you realize, "This guy is an asshole and I can do so much better." It was bad enough that the Vikes were playing so horribly. I think I watched the first quarter of the first regular season game before I couldn't take it anymore. I was glad when Daunte Culpepper finally got hurt and Brad Johnson got to start. Not that I was watching any games if there was another game on at the same time. I only watched the Vikings when it was my only option; after all, it's still football.

    The Love Boat scandal, though, sealed the deal on last season. It wasn't what happened on that boat that offended me so much. I'm not so naïve to think that kind of thing doesn't routinely happen among professional athletes or at bachelor parties or whatever. But to do it out in public? I was offended by their sheer stupidity. I mean, even Michael Irivin and the Cowboys had the White House.

    Once Brad Johnson took over, the Queens started winning. But I didn't care. The damage was done. K accused me in December of being a fair weather fan and told me to stop talking shit about the Vikes in front of our Packer fan friends. I think her definition of "fair weather fan" is different than the rest of the world, because even after all those wins, I couldn't have cared less about the Vikings. I still wasn't watching games. I don't think I was actively cheering against them, but I wouldn't be willing to take a polygraph.

    Now the new season is just about to start. BC told me earlier this year that since the Vikes seemed to be starting over with a new owner and a new coach, I should wipe the slate clean. I told him I would think about it, but I just wasn't sure I could. I really tried to keep an open mind. The new uniforms did little to entice me back into the fold. Okay, I think they're hideous. You've got serious problems when you're stealing design elements from the Cardinals.

    I just don't care. I watched one, maybe two minutes of the first preseason game. Yeah, I know it's preseason. But I used to get so excited for the first preseason Vikings game. Not so much these days. That was Monday. On Tuesday, this happens. The more things change, the more things stay the same. I don't see a reconciliation on the horizon.

    The question now is, do I find a new favorite team? Is it healthy to jump right into another relationship? Or do I date around, so to speak? I think this entry will require a sequel.

    16 August 2006

    Worthless.

    There has been a tanker truck outside our windows since probably 9:00 this morning. I can't read the name on the side of the door, so I'm not entirely sure what these people are doing. I see a hose, though, and given that it's attached to a giant tank, I can surmise they are pumping something into or sucking something out of some receptacle underground, directly beneath my window.

    The sound is loud and droning. It's also producing a lot of vibration. Not to mention it's messing up my radio's reception, leaving The Current interrupted by bursts of static. The vibrating is so bad that I can feel it in my sinuses -- and they hurt. When it stopped momentarily an hour or so ago (lunch break?), I felt like I do when I've gone to a particularly loud show at First Ave; like my ears are stuffed with cotton.

    I can't concentrate. Even my teeth are starting to hurt as a part of this grander-scale headache that seems to include everything above my neck. I'm positively worthless at work today. And I had such big plans for productivity.

    I wonder just what in the hell it is that they're doing.

    15 August 2006

    Asthma is sexy.

    That is what T-Shirt Hell would have you believe, anyway. You would think that since I've been dealing with asthma virtually all my life (diagnosed at the ripe old age of one), I'd be used to it. But I'm not. It's been highly annoying the past two days. It's one thing to be a bit short of breath when I'm walking around the lake. However, it's another thing entirely to be just as out of breath when I'm sitting at my desk.

    Asthma or not, my walk kicked ass. I very nearly didn't go, as I am almost as wiped out as I was yesterday. I got far less sleep last night, though. I barely moved off the couch from the time I got home from work yesterday until bed. It was a struggle to keep my eyes open. As soon as I crawled into bed, though, I was wide awake. DAMMIT. I popped four Benadryl and watched an episode of The X-Files until I was tired enough to go back to bed.

    As tired as I was after work today, I did manage to talk myself into the walk. I'm glad I did. My quad stretches after the walk were especially lovely.

    There were so many gorgeous dogs around the lake today. One even had a cute boy with him. Seemed to be more golden retrievers than anything else. I want a dog SO. BAD. Seeing people out walking with their dogs makes me so envious. I know, though, that I don't have the time or the money for a dog. Some day I'll get settled enough so I can have one, though. I'll be ready for that responsibility and commitment. Maybe.

    Only two waxed chests today. I saw many once-black-but-now-faded-to-a-weird-dark-blue tattoos on the backs and shoulders of overly tan guys. Uh-gly. How 'bout some sunscreen Sparky?

    As long as there is beer, it'll be okay.

    I may be stressed out about money. I may be missing someone terribly. There may be people in my life I really don't want to be around right now. I may be sleeping like ass again.

    But there is a ton of beer in my refrigerator (like, so much that there's not a lot of room for much else). The Twins are back from their off day and Supernatural is pitching. There is a week worth of gorgeous weather on tap. I have only one obligation this weekend and it will result in me getting a ton of fresh veggies from my mom's garden.

    Really, the fridge full of beer is enough to put a smile on my face. The rest is the icing on the cake.

    14 August 2006

    Routine.

    Malina left this morning for her meetings in Brainerd. She misses her babies so much. I feel awful for her. It was so lovely to see her, though. We didn't do a ton of stuff; the block party Saturday, shopping, dinner and hanging out yesterday. I miss her already.

    Now I get to go back to my routine. I plan to hide from the world for a while. I feel like a broken record. It seems as if I've been saying that an awful lot. But I'm feeling very out-of-sorts at the moment. I slept probably eight hours last night, yet I can't stop yawning. I feel a wee bit sick to my stomach. I'm jittery from using my inhaler, yet I feel like I'm really congested and my chest is very tight.

    Sometimes I feel like I'm getting older and set in my ways when I crave this solitude. Sometimes people make me feel like I'm being antisocial. But I've been out and about among people a lot lately.

    Saturday morning I was up at the asscrack of dawn. I walked over to Lake Calhoun and back (and around it). The streets were quiet, the day was lovely. That's the kind of solitude I was craving. Hopefully I can get some more of it.

    11 August 2006

    A step backward.

    Whatshisfuckingface left nearly seven weeks ago. The first three weeks were awful. There was a lot of crying and avoiding of friends. He was all I could think about at work (I'll do anything to avoid being productive). Your normal break-up kind of stuff.

    Week four saw some improvement. The tears came less frequently. I didn't obsess over where he was at this specific time or what he might be doing. By weeks five and six, things improved dramatically. I think Booty Call Matt had something to do with that. He got me over the hump, so to speak.

    All that mattered was that I felt like I was pretty much over him. I didn't really care. I could laugh about it. I wasn't thinking about him very often, and when I did I wasn't sad. Well, I guess I was a little sad that I was starting not to care.

    But this week I feel like I've taken a step backward. The longer the week's gone on, the bigger that step has felt. I guess I shouldn't have thought that the pain would just stop. Though, I thought there would be some sort of catalyst that would send me back down the ladder. Nothing specific has happened. He hasn't called or e-mailed (this is probably another story ... I'm glad about it and annoyed at the same time), which is what I figured would make me feel the way I'm feeling now.

    My luck, it's PMS-related and I'm getting my period early as Ma Nature's revenge for me gloating about my (hopefully) stress-induced, one-day period last month. Whatever the reason, at least I know it's possible to feel better. There was a point where I thought I'd never stop hurting. Silly to think that, I know, but when you're down there wallowing in that hurt it's hard to see out of the pit. It's so great to know Malina will be here tomorrow. I'm sure hanging out and drinking with her will be just what the doctor ordered.

    10 August 2006

    Not without my lip balm.

    Because of the latest foiled terrorist plot, travelers are forbidden to bring fluids, pastes or gels in their carry-on baggage. At least that is what I'd read this morning. However, it looks like it's getting more and more restrictive. Throwing away make up? Eyeshadow? Pressed powder? Where do they fit in? Lipstick? Lip gloss? Oh my God. It's worse than I thought.

    Bill Poland, 61, of Ross was headed to Lake George, New York, with his wife and son. He held up a tube of lip balm and shouted to a security officer who told him he couldn't bring it on the plane with him. He said he recently had a cancerous growth removed from his lip and the anti-bacterial ointment was necessary treatment.

    "In an hour or two my lips are going to start burning and turning purple. And I've got five to six hours on a plane without this," he said. "This is not something I'm looking forward to."

    You can't bring lip balm on a flight now? If I had to fly, would I be able to impress upon security just how addicted I am to Burt's Bees Beeswax Lip Balm? I freak out to panic attack-like proportions if I discover I've left the house without it. I'm guessing not, since a guy who needed a tube of it for his cancer-treated lips couldn't get on a flight with it.

    Flying dehydrates you. I can't let my lips dry out. After all, my soft, kissable, Burt's Bees-conditioned lips were one of the things Whatshisfuckingface loved about me. I can just about imagine my lips drying out, and licking them to try to impart some moisture. But the evaporation only makes your lips more dry. So you lick them more and before you know it you're in full-blown lip-chap mode. You'd probably end up looking like a little kid in winter who has that full, chapped ring around the outside of his lips if you were on a really long flight.

    Will the airlines provide security-screened moisturizer and lip balm? I wear contacts. What if they get dry? Who will suction them off my corneas if I'm not allowed to have rewetting drops on a flight? Are newsstands in on the concourse selling any of these items? I've not read anything about that yet.

    It's not like I was planning to go anywhere, anyway, but there's no way I can get on a flight without my lip balm. Would they be able to find it if I hid it somewhere? Can drug-sniffing dogs detect lanolin, almond oil or peppermint? Will the plastic wrap encasing a new tube protect my nether regions should I try to smuggle a tube on board?

    If I can't take a tube or a tin of lip balm on a flight the terrorists have already won.

    09 August 2006

    Is it that difficult?

    I hate it when people make a mess and don't clean it up. Can't you put a paper towel over that bowl in the microwave? You can't tell me you didn't see all that shit splattered all over the inside. How about putting your dirty spoon in the sink instead of leaving it on the counter to attract a shitload of ants? I won't even ask you to rinse it off. Just put it somewhere other than the counter.

    It's fine if you want to live like that at home, but if there are others around, or God forbid you're at someone else's house, you can't go that tiny exra mile? I try to be considerate. Sometimes I fail; we all do. But I do try.

    I feel like an anal-retentive clean freak for being annoyed about this. However, I'm really not. I feel evil for being annoyed about it, too. Why can't I just suck it up? I guess I am sucking it up, aside from writing this. Gotta get it out somewhere so I don't stew about it, right? Yeah, that's it. Usually I feel much better after I just get it all out. I'll cross my fingers for that.

    Twins 4
    Tigers 3


    No Liriano? No worries. The Twins take two out of three from Detroit (in Detroit!) and are tied for the AL Wild Card lead, with the Bitch Sox currently losing to the Yankees. Dr. Morneau becomes the first Twin since 1987 to hit 30 homers. And he now has 101 RBI. It's been a few years since the Twins have had a 100+ RBI man, too. Just a few, though. The Blue Jays come to town tomorrow. I'm all aflutter about baseball. Well, a little more than usual, anyway.

    08 August 2006

    Nooooooooooooooo!

    My day was ruined. The news was out that Francisco Liriano was heading to the disabled list. Was this the death knell fo the Twins' playoff hopes? Yeah, great, Matt Garza got the call, but I would have liked to see him as the fifth starter. Not replacing The Cisco Kid.

    But wait. What's this? Brad Radke pitches an excellent game to beat Detroit in Comerica Park. All is not lost! At this very moment, the Twins are in a dead heat with the Bitch Sox and the Bo Sox for the AL Wild Card lead. Those games are in progress. I hate the idea of cheering for the Yankees, but I must. And the Royals? Well, they deserve to win. Or something.

    Back to Matt Garza, it looks as if he has fabulous hair, just like Bradke. I don't think there's any question where I'll be on Friday night when he makes his major league debut. And Supernatural goes tomorrow, so watch out, Tigers.

    In other life events, I'm so tired. I will go to bed early tonight, dammit. I swear.

    07 August 2006

    Bits and pieces.

    1. Big series for the Twins this week in Detroit. Sr. Filthiano, Bradke and Supernatural are pitching. Sweet! Though, The Cisco Kid is giving up hits left and right through four innings. And now he's out. Not good.

    2. How did my fingernails get so long? This is ridiculous. One day, they're nice and short and I can type with very few errors. The next thing I know, I'm scratching myself with these claws. My hair is the same way. It's fine, and then here I am catching it under my arms and between my back and the bus seat. Yeesh.

    3. I got to turn off the air conditioning yesterday. The weather is positively lovely. Looks like it might stay that way for a while.

    4. My alone time was taken away this weekend; with two hours warning, no less. I hate that. It makes me feel all out of sorts. I'm totally cranky.

    5. Another Sunday night came and went with very little sleep. What a way to start the week. This could be adding to the air of crankiness surrounding me.

    6. Malina will be here on Saturday! I can't even begin to express just how excited this makes me.

    7. There's a dude who rides the bus sometimes on my way home who has been cultivating this absolutely magnificent neckbeard. It's dense and dark. I've never seen anything like it. It cracks me up to no end. The best part is, he's got a long-ass mullet. Oh, how I wish I could get a picture of him.

    8. I really hate not having money. But I think the stress I've been under (money stress and otherwise) for the last couple of months shortened my period to about a grand total of six hours. Nice.

    9. Thinking perhaps I should swear off men and all their entanglements for a while.

    10. The Raconteurs show rocked my motherfucking socks on Thursday. Other than Elbow, it was the best show I've seen this year.

    02 August 2006

    Bus stop psychiatrist.

    When I got to the bus stop after work today, there was a kid in the shelter. I stood in my normal spot for a minute, maybe, before he walked up and asked me which bus I was waiting for. I told him and then put my earbud back in to continue listening to stellastarr*. He said something else to me, which I didn't hear, of course. So I had to take my earbud out again and ask him to repeat himself.

    He said, "I was wondering if I could tell you about some of the things that I'm going through." *sirens wailing* *lights flashing* How do you respond to that? He proceeded to spend the next few minutes telling me about how he had some problems in school and had to drop out. And how he was trying to get back in to finish his 20 credits, but was having trouble applying to get in anywhere.

    I just kept saying, "Uh huh. Yeah." Then, he busts out that he has no friends. Color me shocked. I can't imagine that you don't have friends when you're telling your problems to strangers at the bus stop. He had to dump all of his friends because all they do is smoke. I figured he was talking about weed, 'cause usually people who smoke cigs do stuff besides chain smoke. At least I had better responses to some of these statements.

    This went on for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably about a total of five or six minutes. I wished him luck when the bus arrived and left him there. He went back into the shelter; I suspect waiting for his next sympathetic ear.

    At least he wasn't hitting on me. Or asking me for money. Or trying to convert me to some brand of religion.

    It's always the damn weather.

    Just when I thought it was safe to let my guard down, Office Pirates directs me to this story and I have to think about you and wonder how you're doing. You're not in Johannesburg, I know. Given what little I know, though, anything about the country throws me into a tizzy. Perhaps "tizzy" isn't the right choice of word here. It's nothing that strong. It's unpleasant, nevertheless.

    Oh, it's a minor setback, to be sure. Just this morning I was thinking about how I've come tantilizingly close to the "Meh," stage. It's happened much faster than I thought, actually. So, I'm tired after actually using my brain at work for once. I'm hungry and I have a headache. I'm at a vulnerable point in my day, dammit! I knew I should have clicked on The Superficial instead. Stupid brain.

    This is nothing a lovely walk home from Uptown, followed by reading (and drinking) on the deck while doing my laundry won't cure. I'll be back to not caring in no time.