collage of senselessness

2008-08-01T20:17:00.000-07:00

It's funny how much some things change over time while others oddly remain the same.

Halfway to Nowhere

2008-07-31T20:25:00.000-07:00

So I just finished summer school. I should be ecstatic. Not only did I score an extra 27 points in my psych class due to lots of extra credit, but I aced this stupid Math final I really, really needed to pass.
One step closer to home, right? Right.

I guess ending brings upon reflection, which is something I've probably really needed to do for awhile.

I miss my friends a lot sometimes. Since I moved, I hardly ever see anyone. I really am alone over here, too. I was driving home the other night when I realized that had I been in St. Louis, I could have called at least 10 people that would have been available. For anything- to meet at a bar, meet at the bookstore, come over, swing by, whatever. If I ran out of gas on the middle of 170 at 1AM, even.

I guess that's what it is... Everything around here just seems so temporary. This is probably what it feels like to be in a military family. I want to have fun and enjoy myself a little for the next year, but I know I'm not going to be here much longer, so I don't want to invest a lot in anything. It's too expensive for me now to be able to hang out like I used to, and some weeks multiple trips to stl aren't an option because of the gas prices. I hate this temporary feeling. It makes some things really confusing.

This summer really got away from me. I need to take a step back and re-prioritize some things.

Flashing Lights

2008-07-25T18:34:00.000-07:00

I forgot to talk about how freakishly awesome the NBA playoffs were this year. I think that series really might have gotten me back into basketball. Just like in football, I love a good defense. Of course I wanted Boston to win. It was so fun to watch a good team through the ups and downs of the playoffs, then see them cap it off with a crazy series to win a championship. Paul Pierce is my dude!

Hester finally reported to training camp. *Sigh* What's up Devin? Only making $445xxx a year?

The sad thing is, I understand his argument, especially if they're going to utilize him more as a WR. He should be paid a comparable salary to the rest of the league based on his skills. I'm not getting into the whole "Overpaid Athlete" debate here, but I will say if there's anyone that deserves the money less than the players, it's the owners.

I'm just happy he's there. I picked him up in my Fantasy League on the off chance he does something miraculous on offense this season. I was pretty strong in the position so I figured what the hell.

I went to training camp once. When I was a freshman in high school, my mom drove us up to Platteville, WI, where the Bears used to have camp. It was awesome. I mostly just sat on the grass and watched practice and took a lot of pictures. Now, keep in mind this was years ago. I'm talking Dave Wannstedt years ago. Yeah.

Oh, and I'd like to call attention to a real great ticketing ploy by the St. Louis Rams. And by real great I mean fucking ridiculous. I went to look up single game tickets on their website, since the Bears are coming to the Toilet B-, oops, I mean the Dome. Anyway, there are asterisks beside the dates of only two games: Dallas and Chicago. So I scroll down to find this:

"Tickets for the Dallas and Chicago games require the purchase of a predetermined second game. Dallas’ second game is the Buffalo Bills; and Chicago’s second game is the New York Giants. The selection is automatic during the purchase process and there are no exceptions. There will be an eight (8) ticket limit for the Dallas and Chicago games. There is not a ticket limit on the remaining home games."

*cough*bullshit*cough

I mean, really? All because when the Bears and Cowboys come to town, all their fans usually make the drive to the Lou and buy up all the seats? Maybe get a better team and build a better fan base and you can fill the seats the right way. Besides, last year, I went to a couple games where the Rams were underrepresented at home, and that wasn't even the Bears, it was against the Packers and Steelers.

Mmmm... doesn't it feel good just talking about football again?!? Less than 1 month until Madden...

Baseball Sucks

2008-07-23T21:00:00.000-07:00

Sorry, I had to do it. I'm just not feeling it anymore. I just want football to start again.

Okay, okay. Let's try this again.

The current state of Major League Baseball simply is not as appealing to me as it once was. I've noticed this trend developing the last couple seasons, but up until recently I never gave it much thought. I wasn't feeling the playoffs last year because I was really into football. I wasn't feeling Opening Day this year for a number of reasons. (See previous post). Then I realized that the All*Star break has come and gone... and I haven't really watched one baseball game. I've been to 3 and paid attention to the games, but not like I used to.

I don't dislike baseball. I still enjoy cheering for a player like Yadi. I still found it really, really cool to watch Pedro Martinez pitch up-close. (So cool! Even those he's older, you can still see how he once dominated).

My lack of interest has caused me to take a closer look at what I have previously referred to, both in this blog and it conversations with friends, as a "sports-cycle". Depending on a number of factors (family history, the city you grew up in, the city you live in, etc), an individual can have several sports they follow closely. Someone in Chicago might be a Bulls/Sox/Blackhawks/Bears fan. With ESPN and the Internet, it's pretty easy to keep up with news and scores daily. But say the Bulls had been lousy for a few years, and football was always really your favorite sport... if you had to pick on a Sunday, you would likely pick the Bears game. Substitute any combination of teams, and there's always going to be a time when you're just really more invested in one team than another.

I'm sure there's something more interested to be said about all this, but not from me right now.

UGH! Blogging sucks! I want to sit here and type satirical brilliance, really I do. Everything else in my life just gets more interesting and eats up all my time.

There hasn't been a really great song for me to overplay and abuse yet this summer. I've just been recycling past anthems. Mostly KanYe West... although I will say I've been playing the shit out of the new Lupe.

I MISS CHICAGO

2008-04-09T12:43:00.000-07:00

Opening Day, 2008. A misty afternoon followed by torrential downpours. Smoking across the street hiding in a parking garage. A phantom Pujols home run. (This, by the way, is the spooky and eerie part of professional sports. Because the game was cancelled, statistics don't count. The home run won't exist in history. But I saw it. It happened. But it doesn't exist.) The ball park still smells the same as it did when I was nineteen, but something's different.

Could it be the rosters? As the Cards rattled off their starting lineups, I felt like I was in a fictional Cleveland, hearing names like Rick Vaughn and Pedro Cerrano. Who are these guys? Did I just give up on our scouting system? Was I tired of watching washed-up veterans and no-name middle relievers floating in and out of the clubhouse? Let's be honest, the front office hasn't given us much to hope for in years. The series win was luck. Can I just root for Yadi to have a good year? I really, really like Yadi.

Could it be the whole steroids soap opera? I don't even like home runs! Give me a good pitcher any day. Besides, I don't even care what these guys put into their bodies, I just wish they would stop having press conferences to televise their fabrications. It cuts into real coverage of sports. Everyone knows these guys were juiced. Why are we still spending tax dollars and the governments' time on this bullshit?

Could it be that the last few football seasons have been really, really awesome and that this is just part of some kind of sports-cycle?

I loved going back to the park three days in a row when the season first opened. I still love the feeling of walking beyond the terminal and embracing the first glimpse of pure green.

Football Night in America

2007-10-07T17:42:00.000-07:00

If Griese throws a couple picks, do you think we'll hear a collective cry of "Orton! Orton!" over the greater Chicagoland area?
Will our dear Kyle be sober enough to hear it?

Best NFL names:
Pisa Tinoisamoa
LaDanian Tomlinson
Adewale Ogunleye

All-Star Barista

2007-10-04T11:13:00.000-07:00

my favorite work moment ever involved Brandon Backe. During the playoffs in '04, he came in and tried to order coffee. The guy I was working with also happened to be huge baseball fan and we both recognized him right away. We joked around and refused to serve him at first, then finally gave him a drink. We attacked the cup with Sharpies first, full of great things like "Go Cards!!!" and "Astros SUCK!" He took it pretty well.

This might be one of the greatest photo-blogs ever for sports geeks like myself:
http://straightcashhomey.net/

Brady + Moss = <3

2007-10-01T11:39:00.000-07:00

Wow, Seattle is so unbelievably beautiful.

I could go on and on about the mountains, the water, the green...
the seafood, the coffee, the parties...
the parks, the beaches, the views...
but all the high-fives? is that a west coast thing?

yeah, well, we all know I loved it and can't wait to go back.

how funny is it that Grossman got benched. didn't this exact same thing happen last year? ok start, followed by interceptions, sacks, interceptions, turnovers, penalties, fans begging for Griese less than midway through the season, interceptions, turnovers, penatlies, and one good, solid, reliable, and now exhausted defense? Even Urlacher, Briggs and the boys can't stop everything when they're on the field 25 minutes a half because the O can't scrap together two consecutive first downs. I only hope Hester stays healthy... he might score most of our points this year.

(I'm holding out for McNabb next year and his rebirth at home in the Windy City)

I probably didn't blog that much the last month because of Madden.

unpublished train ride ramblings

2007-08-15T16:36:00.000-07:00

I have recently noticed a growing trend among pre-game shows for major sporting events. It looks like it is now a requirement for the set to contain a miniature replica of the playing field. I think this started with Fox NFL Sunday (this is based on no research, only my own fuzzy memory). Back when the crew was JB, Jimmy, Howie and Terry, the foursome would run theoretical plays on the turf, conveniently located mere feet from their desk. It made sense, too- Jimmy was a coach for years, he could talk through the different plays and why they worked for different teams. But recently I tuned into a late-night broadcast of Baseball Tonight and found a little baseball diamond painted onto the floor. Are they going to be giving Morgan and Kruk some final AB’s? I really don’t see how this is relevant in baseball.

Chicago is home. People either get it or they don’t. I think Chicago is more beautiful than a forest, a desert, or an ocean. Whoever said concrete was cold and uninviting wasn’t raised in the Windy City.

Oh, summertime

2007-08-02T18:40:00.000-07:00

Summer is the time when you remember the beautiful emerald green of baseball- the grass, not the dollars. Time when you can just sit back and take a few sips of strikes and fly balls.

Summer is also the time to fall in love with a bad pop song and the play it really loud and sing along in your car. It is also permittable to play bad songs from previous summers at said volume and sing along, too.

Frozen things are big in summer, and I love popsicles. I also love Slurpees, which reminds me of the fabulous promotion 7-11 is running to tie in with the Simpsons Movie. The cups for the slurpees have the Kwik-E-Mart logo and say "Squishee" on the side. Which, as all my true friends in the world know, I have been calling them Squishees for YEARS. (I guess summer is also a time for promotions, but really, that's pretty much constant in good old capitalist, ad-hungry America.)

Summer.... blech. I don't much care for the weather. Because of this, it's a great time for laying in an air-conditioned apartment and catching up on reading. My latest obsession is The Outfit in Chicago, the underworld from my very own hometown that ran the greater part of a counrty for half a century. I've been reading up on Capone, Humphreys, Accardo, and Giancana. My grandfather was born in Italy and moved to Chicago when he was 9. His family owned a restaurant in Chicago, and I can never hear enough of the stories from that time.

I bought a plane ticket to Seattle, and now it's all I can think about. Do I just live in preperation for my next escape?

You know, people five years younger than me probably can't remember a world with no internet.

I want to give a shout out to the Onion, still making me laugh after all these years.

Damn it's been forever...

2007-07-09T16:30:00.000-07:00

There are not a lot of appropriate adjectives for the last week of my life. Amazing! Thrilling! Non-Stop Action! Nah, that just sounds like a really bad summer action movie preview. I had a visit from an old friend that knew the old me. Not that “new me” is phenomenally different, but I have changed a little bit, and it took his visit to show me that not all the changes had been good. I definitely was not as happy as I was two years ago. But sometimes it takes something like that to really let you know you need to do something, to get up off your ass and find someplace better.
My favorite summer memories now include even more nights spent on porches, arguing about Jordan’s greatness, Manning vs. Brady, or the Bears minus Briggs, all while smoking and sipping rum and coke. Cool summer nights and sports debates always make me happy. I guess that’s what I missed so much about my friend- he was the perfect guy for all that. I don’t really have an equivalent to him in my life now, and I guess I really missed it more than I thought I did.
My other best friend in the world is across the country from me right now too. I love her to pieces even though we’ve been through a lot. I’ll see her soon, though- I can’t stay in the freaking city much longer. My brain is turning to mush.
Get the new TI CD. I'm not big into rap but that dude is fucking amazing.

Tank Johnson stole my Smith & Wesson

2007-01-31T12:14:00.000-08:00

Remember when Blues Traveler was popular for about five minutes? Well, my boyfriend didn't, so maybe they weren't that popular after all.

This weekend I went to a fabulous party. It was hosted by my old roommates for their little son, Atom. I missed them so much, and it was great to spend a little time with people that were like a family to me for so long. The party was at the Black Bear Bakery, now housed in an awesome location on Cherokee. Honestly, I never saw the old one, so it could have been just as good, I guess. But this place used to be an old movie theatre, and it's really neat.
Anyway, my friends hired some live music for the party, and I think they did a good choice selecting the genre. Two older guys came in, one with a banjo and guitar, the other with a mandolin, and they played folksy kind of music for about an hour or so. Not great, but really good for little kids, you know? So when I get there, the guys are setting up and while I'm catching up with my friend, the guy with the mandolin comes up to Michael and says, "Hey, can my girlfriend come in here?"

Come to find out, his girlfriend left. One of the other guests saw her outside at the door. She pointed to the store across the street and said, "Does that place sell alcohol on Sundays?" "Yes, they do." Mandolin's girlfriend: "Good, I'm gonna get a six pack and get drunk."

The store across the street it Globe Drug, by the way, and they definitely sell alcohol. A couple years ago I was going to a party at CAMP with Mike and Beth and we stopped there for beer. I picked out two 40oz cans of some form of malt alcohol that featured snarling Rottwielers with the tagline "Hold it Down". I believe the product was from St. Ides, and while Mike and I went through the other options, I remembered vaguely in high school when Snoop Doggy Dogg did a commercial for St. Ides, and if Snoop Doggy Dogg endorsed it, we had to agree. I don't remember it tasting bad... but I don't really remember much else from that night, either. I think I ended up holding an impromptu singalong in a back alley in south city with kids from around the neighborhood featuring songs by Tupac, Biggie, R Kelly, and other rap and R & B stars of the 90's. But I think Michael has to tell that story.

Gettin' my learnin' on

2007-01-18T20:53:00.000-08:00

One of my professors looks like David Putty. I really kind of expect him to show up in an 8-Ball jacket and answer all of our questions with an enthusiastic “All signs point to YES!”
Other than that the first day of school was rather uneventful. I already have a paper due. These people don’t fuck around.
I would, in fact, like to rant about Starbucks’ bullshit wireless Internet. I can think of at least 6 other competitors that provide free WI-Fi. Starbucks makes about a million times more than all these other places, so I would think they could afford to offer this service to customers. Except I suppose they didn’t make all this money in the first place by giving everything away. I still don’t think free wireless is too much to ask for. Fucking TMobile.
Also, it should be noted that I am somewhat of a grammar Nazi. Granted, my blogging skills are not the greatest and I don't always proofread every post or even every single email. When it comes to speaking the English language, however, I use proper grammar about 97% of the time. Things like alcohol and weed sometimes make it hard to always find the right words. In one of my classes, my professor handed out a "writing guide" along with the syllabus that kind of offended me. I mean, if you're in an upper level college course, shouldn't you know better than writing papers in first person? Using contractions? Passive voice? I think Word checks most of these things anyway. Shouldn't you know the difference between your/you're or their/there? Ah, well, what are you going to do? I'm just ranting.
Tax stuff came today. I kind of like getting a tax return every year, not just because I need the money, but because it's nice to see a check from the government.

Monsters of the Midway

2007-01-14T21:21:00.000-08:00

Loooooong Day. Shameless plug.

Da Bears!

Scary Kareokoe and Time Travel via iPod

2007-01-12T10:33:00.000-08:00

So have you ever been to a bar and been shocked the first time you've been there? Just by the decorations, clientele, or general atmosphere? Not shocked enough to be disgusted, but shocked enough to wonder about what kind of people regularly hung out here. Have you ever been to a bar that looked like a strip club, with a stage, only neon lights, and mirrors everywhere, but with no strippers? Karaoke, anyone?
This place exists in reality and I have been there on more than one occasion. It's a 3AM bar, so I usually show up at about 12:30am, when everyone else is staggering in. The other night I made the painful mistake of showing up around 10:00 to meet some people for a friend's party. At 10, the only people there are old, old men and a few bargoyles. The Old Man Award should go to Bill, the man there with a woman about 20 years younger than him, the man who sang a countless number of Elvis songs (consecutively), the man who sang some song about vaginas that sickened me because the only man over 40 I EVER want to hear the word vagina is my gynecologist, that man was the only man with anything interesting going on. Good for Bill. There were also a couple of scary dancers that looked like they escaped from a mental hospital ten years ago and have been living in basements practicing their moves off of bootlegged musicals from the 40's.
Anyway, eventually our friends showed up and we took over the stage for a few hours, but that first hour rated pretty high on the unintentional humor scale.
It reminds me of another bar I accidentally wound up at once. It might be the hoosier capital of the Midwest. This place was horrible. All the guys there had facial hair, the girls all wore clothes two sizes too small and wore too much make up. There was a DJ, and if Justin Timberlake or Eminem came on, the place went crazy. I saw a guy walk past me throwing up into his hand. There were two semi-retarded kids on the dance floor attempting to dance to NIN's "Closer". This place was surreal. And filled with disease.

I usually put my iPod on shuffle and just cruise along to whatever comes on. With 500 songs, this makes for an interesting playlist most nights. Vivaldi followed with Tupac, wrapped up with Beauty Pill. Then last night I was driving and an old Decemberists song popped up. I was instantly transported back to the fall of '04, driving around Forest Park smoking a gigantic, badly rolled joint, singing along. I realized it was so funny how certian songs just take your mind back immediately, almost involuntarily. When I hear "Lapdance" by the Neptunes, I will always think of Michael and I rocking out at the bar. "Let's Ride" from Montell Jordan/Silkk/Master P will always take me back to my junior year of high school, cruising around the suburbs with my best friend Kim after practice. "Take Me Out", Franz Ferdinand- sitting at a coffee shop at 2AM with a flask of whiskey. "Brown Eyed Girl"- a minor league baseball game in Michigan with my Ex. "Exit Music", Radiohead- speeding down St. Louis highways with the windows rolled down and the music up in the middle of the night. I could go on for hours.

I ordered my new laptop off the Internet and it has been an extreme test of my patience. Since it was custom built, it takes 10 whole days before it even ships from the warehouse. Have I still been checking the order tracking page every other day? You know I have.

Mmmm... perfect weather. Rainy and a little blustery. I love today and I haven't even left the house yet.

Things that are Orange!

2006-06-25T22:15:00.000-07:00

And now for an ode to one of the greatest, yet most forgotten game shows of yore: The $100,000 Pyramid.

Two teams, consisting of one celebrity player and one contestant, competed against each other. Six categories, each of which had a name pertaining to what that category was about, were placed on the pyramid-shaped game board. A contestant chose one of those categories, and after the host explained the subject of that category, the contestant was given 30 seconds to guess seven words (originally eight), phrases, or names (20 seconds for six in the most recent version of Pyramid) using clues given by his/her celebrity partner. If any descriptions were deemed illegal by the judges — usually when all or part of the word or phrase was given — a "cuckoo" sound was played, the clue was immediately thrown out, and the contestant couldn't earn any points for it. If a word was passed, the giver could not go back to that word, but if the receiver knew the word later on and guessed it, the team still earned a point.

Once time had expired or the contestant guessed all of the necessary clues (whichever came first), the opposing team followed the same procedures.

Three rounds, with two subjects per round, were played in the main game. While the celebrity gave the clues and the contestant received them in the first round, the roles were reversed in the second round, meaning that the contestant gave the clues and the celebrity received them. In the third round the contestant had the option to give or receive, with the team trailing going first.

I have recently decided to create categories for myself, my friends, and my job. Under the category "Things that Suck", the celebrity could say things like, "it cleans your house", or "use it on carpets", with the correct answer being "vaccuum". If the clues were something like "not enough room", "hot", or "way too fucking busy", the word would obviously be "kiosk". (Errrghhh, yeah I had to throw a starbucks-only joke in there.)

This show was syndicated when I was a kid, and I remember seeing re-runs on cable as a teenager. Pop culture really hides in the corners of your brain and waits for the most inappropriate times to emerge.

Ides of March

2006-03-21T10:22:00.000-08:00

Worst. Blogger. Ever.

Well, I hate to say I've been busy living life, because that would imply that I wasn't doing so previously. It would also be a lie, because everyone knows what a boring, dorky girl I've morphed into.

And I have tried to update this a couple times, then the computer died on me and by the time I got it back up and running I never felt like retyping everything.

What have I been doing other than being the usual snarky, anti-consumerism, anti-media, bookaholic, caffiene-addicted, brown-eyed mess that I am?

Uh, you know, making lattes. Drinking Irish Car Bombs. Eating lots of Asian foods. Waiting for baseball season. February is kind of a boring month in the sports world (apologies to all my NHL fans, but hey, they didn't even play for half the month because of those crazy Olympics).

I have to say, I tried to get into the NBA a little, but the last time I watched a full basketball game and knew all the players on the court, the Bulls were Wrold Champions. Yeah, come on, you remember the Jordan-Pippen-Rodman years. Now that's what the NBA was all about. Great time to be in the Chicagoland area.

So it snowed last night... I think snow is beautiful but this was that wonderful rain/sleet/snow/slushiness that bestows itself upon the greater St. Louis region at least once a winter. It's simply frightening to drive in, not only because of its inconsistancy, but because other drivers on the road have no fucking clue what they're doing. My favorite part of a snow storm is the first hour after it starts to fall. It's almost completely untouched, the flakes are still big and soft, and when it lands in my hair and sticks to my eyelashes I feel like I should be on a postcard.

I feel like I should be on a postcard for something these days, anyway. I'm so full of cheesy happiness and all kinds of other good, puppy-dogs-and-ice-cream bullshit. What happened to that cynical girl I used to come home to? Where did she go? Why am I floating around this place like I just cashed in on Powerball? How can one other person just fall in beside me and turn everything upside down? I'm not complaining, though... I'm just enjoying the ride.

Shouldn't I do that more often? Shouldn't I stop worrying so much about all the shit that bothers me about the world and just enjoy the great things I have right in front of me? I know things like gas prices, consumerism, ignorace, judgemental people, and all those uncontrolable variables in the world always piss me off. Yeah, the country is probably going to fall apart in the next 20 years thanks to these SUV driving assholes with thier "Support the Troops" ribbons and trunks full of WalMart shopping bags filled with toys for their selfish kids intoxicated by advertisements.

Whatevs. Life is great. They just don't get it.

Sex, Drugs, Coco Puffs, and Super Bowl Hype

2006-02-04T23:11:00.000-08:00

This could not sum up my opinions of this weekend any more: a drunken, three-hour Christmas for those who hate Jesus. Okay, I cannot take credit. One of my favorite authors, Chuck Klostermann, has a weeklong blog up at ESPN.com, and it is sheer brilliance. It represents what I feel is a tiny, tiny portion of sports fans- the intelligent ones, the non-face-painters, the knowledgeable followers, the ones that can lightly enjoy a sport without being over the top. He's not a "sports reporter" (one of the worst, worst kinds of reporters... More on that momentarily), but a journalist that happens to be covering a sporting event.

Sports reporters are a piece of work. I spent a good portion of my short-lived PR career working at an all-sports-talk radio station. Let me say, first and foremost, that it was a great fucking gig, I got to meet a lot of awesome people, have the greatest boss in the world, and learn a lot about the business. There are many people still involved with the station that I have a tremendous amount of respect and admiration for. I can also say that the industry as a whole is filled with a lot of men that never really had to grow up. Some go beyond this, take themselves and their position seriously, and become knowledgeable, insightful writers or broadcasters and enhance sports of the listeners and fans. Some, however, turn into some hybrid of high-school jock and loud mouthed asshole and live this persona 24 hours a day.

My take on the Super Bowl is probably similar to my take on a lot of American holidays. I've kind of made my own traditions, most of which are quite the opposite of what millions of other Americans will be doing on Sunday. I head over to my mom's house in my pj's and flip on ESPN Classic. Did you know they play the NFL Films' Super Bowl recaps all morning long? All 29 Super Bowls get a half hour program, complete with that great voice over and classic football music. Nothing better than spending a morning reliving Super Bowls past and smiling at cheesy memories. My mom and I cook a bunch of awesome, non-Super Bowl related food, make jello shots in the colors of the opposing teams, play card games until kickoff, and have an awesome time. This year I think we'll do lemon for the Steelers, and blue raspberry for the Seahawks. It's a good thing Jello covers about every color on the spectrum these days, and even the craziest NFL team logos contain at least one primary color.

11 days until pitchers and catchers report!!!! (...sighs dreamily...)

I've become embarrassingly addicted to 24. You know, where Jack Bauer lives the longest day of his life, hour by hour, all on network TV? This show... It's HORRIBLE. It's not even plausible. It's bad, bad cheesy entertainment. I lived over 6 months without a TV, but I missed Seinfeld reruns, the Simpsons, and Family Guy. Now they're sucking me back, one show at a time. At least it's not the OC.

Oh, and I'm well aware I just violated a few trademark laws in this post. The NFL can come get me.

It was the best of times...

2006-01-03T01:04:00.000-08:00

I despise "Best of" lists. You sure do see a lot of them this time of year. However, since my connection to pop culture is pretty limited, most of them read like a foreign toaster instruction manual to me. Guess what? I, just like every other blogger on the internet, have decided to create my own.

Best song to sing along to really, really loudly in the car (I mean so loud that when you're at a stoplight the other motorists might steal a glance over at your car): Third Planet, Modest Mouse.

Best Baseball Moment: Pujols' homer in the NLCS. Duh. I think I devoted several dozen posts to this moment already.

Best books I've read: Ball Four (once again, isn't this on the list every year?), At Play in the Fields of the Lord, 1984 (another every-year-type-deal), and Into Thin Air.

Best Defense: Da Bears! (Sorry. Shameless plug.)

Best Pitching Performance: Mulder's 10 innings vs. Clemens. Good, good fucking baseball.

Best 80's song: "Don't You Forget About Me", Simple Minds/ "Head over Heels", Tears for Fears. It's just too close to call.

Best place for a lazy spring afternoon: Art Hill in Forest Park. (St. Louis) People-watching in Lincoln Park (Global)

Best movie to memorize and annoy your friends by speaking along with the actors: Office Space.

Best website for news: BBC

Best Punctuation: ... (aka the ellipsis)

Best Class: Deviant Behavior in Society at good ol' Webster.

Best caffeine Fix: Chai tea lattes (iced or hot) from the Bux.

Best Throwback Jersey: Gibson. I fucking love this man.

Best mathematical equation: the Quadratic Equation, and not just because I like saying the word "quadratic". A refresher:

Best Beatles Song: "Hey Jude"

Best Seat at Old Busch: First row of Sec. 331. Adjacent to first, and you can hang your feet off the edge.

Best network TV show: Arrested Development

Best cable TV show: Six Feet Under

Best syndicated TV show: Seinfeld, hands down.

Best late night snack: Hash Browns and breakfast accessories from Uncle Bill's on Kingshighway.

Best Beverage: Slurpees from 7-11 (I don't think there will ever be a better beverage. I drink these things in the middle of Janurary.)

Shit. I could go on all night. Why am I even still awake??

"...and I ran, I ran so far away..."

2005-12-29T23:05:00.000-08:00

Yeah bad 80's music.

So I took off for a few days on a whim. I missed Chicago so much, and I must have had one of the longest weeks ever. It's been a long, long time since I abandoned reality just long enough to appreciate the escape. I wrote a lot while I was gone, something I haven't been able to do in quite awhile. I used to always keep journals filled with perspectives on everything in the world; short essays on life, society, love, or whatever made my mind spin at the time. I lost a lot of my writing ability lately, but this little trip definitely brought it back. A collage of really crappy pictures and excerpts from my ramblings:

"Absolutely no one knows where I am. I can't decide how I feel about that... Maybe because I've lost a little bit of the naive, immortal complex that can only be found within youth and innocence."

"I'm finding this both thrilling and frightening. It is not often that something exists in reality exactly as it does in your mind."

"And while I sit here, drunken with happiness, I'm reminded of a quote that says something about how the present is too real, too much to take in."

"I've been so out of touch lately- sometimes it feels as though being in St. Louis only coats my brain with a thick, dark, impenetrable layer... Literally, it feels as though the 280 miles takes you back about 15 years. Chicago is alive; thriving. St. Louis is a small town with big buildings erected by the river to look spiffy and make for more attractive postcards."

Happy Decemberween

2005-12-14T21:52:00.000-08:00

"I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself to hold on to these moments as they pass..."

The beginning of December has brought on an unfortunate amount of work. Although I am grateful for the impromptu backroom comedy skits and great friendships, I'm looking forward to the calm of Janurary. I make coffee... I shouldn't have to deal with screaming kids and mall santas, right? However, it is phenomonally better than TPS reports and whatever else I have to look forward to after I graduate.

I've had some pretty spectacular nights with some of my work friends. There's a small group of guys there I can honestly say I would still hang around even if we weren't banded together under the Orwellian Siren. A few weeks ago we saw my friend's comedy show again, then took a drive around downtown to check out the stadium carnage and find a fountain for me to jump in. Did I mention it was below freezing? That was a long drive home.

One of my other friends has taught me how to play chess, something I had wanted to do for years. Either he is a good teacher, or I just picked up really quickly. Our latest sessions involve bringing the chess board into various bars and conducting our lessons over Guiness and vodka tonics.

I guess one of the reasons I've been a little less socially active is due to the fact that many of my former friends have graduated, moved to a batter place, or started breeding, as is the case with my old roommates. I attended a baby shower for them last week, and it was great to see them again. Even though we've all grown into such diverse people, I still think they are absolutely wonderful and wish them the best of luck with their expanding family. They're having a boy, Atom, in Janurary. I'll be the first to admit I know just about nothing about babies, childbirth, parenting, or anything of that nature. I'm not very sure if I'll ever want to, either. But it's great to see them so happy.

School's out for a few weeks. I don't know what the fuck I want to do with my life. But that's a book all in itself.

Mr Chili is quite disturbed by many commercials. The list includes, but is not limited to:
1. Other dogs, either cartoon or real.
2. The crazy guy with the question mark suit.
3. Horses. Any horses. Even the silhouette the pops up at the end of the Busch ads. How he even know that it is a horse is beyond me.

Things keeping me sane:
1. Quoting The Family Guy Christmas episode whenever possible. ("Gold?!? We had a five dollar limit!")
2. Quoting Office Space whenever possible. ("PC load letter? What the fuck does that mean?")
3. Lots and lots and lots of caffeine, mostly in the form of triple soy espresso macchiatos.
4. Looking up grad schools in Chicago
5. "Hey there Mr. Hinduist, Merry Fucking Christmas!!" and other South Park songs.
6. Sunday afternoon football lunches with my Mom (and a winning record for her beloved Chicago Bears).
7. Seinfeld reruns. "Yeah, it's an Eight Ball." I love you, Putty.
8. The fireplace at Kayak's.

Santa, I want a new president for Christmas

2005-11-17T15:43:00.000-08:00

There should be a support group for atheists that have to deal with the way the American culture has ruined the month of December.

If I was some sick and/or diseased kid, I would be so pissed off this time of year. How many times do you hear about a toy drive, or a reading hour, or some random group going to visit a hospital? If I was one of those kids, I think I would stand up and say, "Hey fuckers! Where are you the other 11 months of the year?"

And how about the people that feel obligated to get together with a huge group consisting of family they only see once a year? Guess what? If you really cherished those people, you'd make them a part of your daily lives.

My mom and I watch football on Thanksgiving, just like we do almost every other Sunday during football season. And we don't get each other christmas presents either. Because if it's the middle of March and I need something, my mom gets it for me. Or if I see something cool in July, I pick it up and give it to her as soon as I see her.

I've always enjoyed studying the important holidays of other religons. It seems as though they are deeply rooted in tradition, and each practice carries a part of this tradtion along. What does Christmas say about our society? That we like to spend a ton of money on shit we don't need? We like to put reindeer and fat guys in red suits all over everything? Hey, let's teach our kids the tradtion of going and sitting on an old man's lap and telling him about all the thousands of dollars worth of toys we want.

Then you have those that say, "Oh, that's just superficial. Let's look at the TRUE meaning of Christmas." This means one of two things:

a) The whole Jesus angle. I'm pretty sure Jesus would have been okay with us just being good people, you know, with morals and whatnot. I'm also pretty sure he wouldn't have wanted any gifts exchanged.

b) The sharing/loving/personal angle. See above. Why are we reserving all this specialness for such a small period of time?

I guess there's always the wise investor/businessman that can just view it from a profitablity angle, which is what I'm learning to do. Just sit back and watch the idiot masses fight traffic, argue, struggle with pounds of purchases, all while laughing to yourself. The more cash these winners throw away, the higher my stock goes up. I'm pretty cool with that, I guess.

Surfin' Time

2005-10-26T20:08:00.000-07:00

If you haven't downloaded this yet, you've probably wasted a lot less time sitting on your ass staring at a moniter than I have: http://earth.google.com/

Seriously, this is one of the more interesting and entertaining things I've found in awhile. Definately worth checking out.

Also, anyone interested in architechture in the 'Lou needs to visit this one: www.builtstlouis.net
Take the tours via the site, much safer than reality. However, once you click around for awhile, you might find yourself in your car headed towards downtown and parts north. Or maybe that's just old building nerds like myself. I've always had an above average interest in St. Louis history, and driving around looking at dilapidated housing and ghosts of industries past is one of my ideal ways to spend an afternoon. I never claimed to be sane.

Brad Lidge is so Donnie Moore '05. Although the Astros really blew it about 37 innings ago when they took the field at Comerica on Saturday. Did they ever have a chance? I'm still bitter (errrghhhh), but the series against us probably took quite a bit out of them while the Sox were relaxing in Chicagoland.

Crossword clue/answer of the day: Jewelry (slg.)............ BLING!

And I hate to admit this (especially since I know I'll never try this product), but I simply ADORE the Mountain Dew commercial that has all the little nocturnal creatures singing "All Night Long".

And Eminem? Yeah, dude, you're very talented ('Mosh' is a great example... do more stuff like that as opposed to the cartoonish MTV bullshit). But I heard 'Lose Yourself' every commercial break like 2 years ago when 8 Mile came out, and now you're using it to hock Ipods?

Ugh I forgot how much I hated television. I hope the Sox wrap this shit up tonight. As much as I love football, I'm not sure if I can put up with the six same crappy commercials played over and over every Sunday. Ugh. Watch out fucker... you're three Mastercard "priceless" commercials away from your old home in the closet.

I can't believe what I just saw

2005-10-18T08:18:00.000-07:00

So I find most baseball writers of the newspaper/magazine type quite unreadable and asinine. Rarely does one come across an writer that finds a perfect balance, one that can relish importance without over-romanticizing an event. One that re-creates emotion with simple flowing paragraphs. I was both suprised and delighted this morning to discover Jayson Stark's article on ESPN.com. This paints the unfathomable picture that I and many St. Louisians lived last night. Not that I'll ever forget it, for the next 60 years or however long I'm lucky enough to inhabit this planet. But should it slip my memory, even for a fleeting moment, this article is real enough to bring back the tears or disbelief and unbelievable elation. Enjoy!

How Pujols Changed the World

HOUSTON -- As the baseball soared through the electrified night, you almost wanted the world to stop spinning -- just for a moment -- so you could digest what was unfolding before your eyes.

It was only one swing of Albert Pujols' bat. It was only one baseball, heading for history. It was only one moment in the life of two franchises.

Down to their final out, Albert Pujols saved the Cardinals' season with a three-run homer to win Game 5.But it was a swing, a baseball, a moment that seemed to change the world.

In an instant, in one click of a camera lens, in one quick gulp of air, in one flash of Albert Pujols' bat, victory dissolved into defeat. Euphoria transformed into disbelief. Ear-drum-rattling noise turned to how'd-that-happen silence.

And the Houston Astros' trip to the first World Series in the life of their franchise had just taken an unexpected detour -- back to a nearly defunct stadium in St. Louis that had been abruptly rescued from the implosion button for one more night of baseball. Or more.

What just happened? Did we really see what we just saw?

We could have sworn we saw the great Albert Pujols hit a season-saving three-run home run off the unhittable, untouchable, unbeatable Brad Lidge. With two outs in the ninth inning. But were we sure this was real?

These are questions you always ask yourselves at moments like this, when the impossible has just turned possible. So it shouldn't surprise us that even Pujols' teammates, men whose lives had just taken a ride right along with that home-run ball, were feeling the same thing.

"When he hit that ball, I didn't react," said the man on deck, Reggie Sanders. "I didn't react, because I didn't know what to do. I couldn't believe he just did that. So I froze. I just froze."

Eventually, though, he unfroze. Eventually, we all unfroze. Eventually, we convinced ourselves it was time to contemplate one more question: How long will we remember this moment? How long will we talk about this magical wave of Pujols' bat?

How long will we talk about a game in which the St. Louis Cardinals, one strike away from the fishing hole, would save their season with a staggering 5-4 victory over the Houston Astros -- and a pitcher they kept calling "the best closer in the game"?

"I know we'll be talking about it for a long time," said the Cardinals' Larry Walker late on a pulsating Monday night, his retirement plans suddenly delayed by Pujols-esque forces beyond his control. "But I think it will get talked about a lot more if we win two more games."

Two more games. That's how many the Cardinals still need to win in this National League Championship Series.

But it seems eminently possible now. Doesn't it? When you've witnessed what you've just witnessed, anything seems possible. Anything.

The list of men who have done what Albert Pujols did Monday is a list that flips the switch on a video reel inside your brain. You know these men. You know these moments. You know these two-out, ninth-inning homers that turned October defeat into unforgettable triumph:

Kirk Gibson off Dennis Eckersley, Game 1, 1988 World Series.

Jack Clark off Tom Niedenfuer, Game 6, 1985 NLCS.

And Dave Henderson off Donnie Moore, Game 5, 1986 ALCS.

The closest parallel to this one is Henderson -- because, just like Albert Pujols, his team was trailing that series, 3 games to 1. And just like Albert Pujols, his team had been one strike away from The End.

And just like Albert Pujols, the team Henderson was losing to (in that case, the Angels) was about to head for the first World Series in its history -- and celebrate it in front of its very own fans.

The only difference is that, after Henderson's homer gave the '86 Red Sox a one-run lead, the Angels came back to tie the game in the bottom of the ninth, only to lose in 11.

But details, schmetails. It's close enough to know that Albert Pujols' home run will be traveling through the history books for as long as October matters.

We can still recall the two teams in those history books that were one strike away from going home -- and then didn't: We remember those 1986 Red Sox (thanks to Dave Henderson). We remember the 1986 Mets (thanks to Mookie Wilson and Bill Buckner).

And we'll remember this -- no matter what happens this week in St. Louis.

"Now I can appreciate Joe Carter and Kirby Puckett and all those guys," said Sanders. "Because this was the exact same thing."

OK, so it wasn't the exact same thing. But we get the idea. Because these take-your-breath-away October home runs don't happen every day. And when they do, they stick inside all of our memory banks for as long as the banks stay open.

So what will we remember about this night?

We'll remember Lidge sprinting out of the Houston bullpen at 10:24 Central Daylight Time, as an entire stadium rattled.

We'll remember Lidge striking out the first two hitters in the ninth -- John Rodriguez, then John Mabry -- on two carnivorous sliders. We'll remember that the sound that erupted after those two strikeouts was so monstrous, you needed a Richter Scale to measure it.

And we'll remember, as much as anything, the peskiest leadoff man alive, David Eckstein, walking up there and taking two 96-mph smokeballs for the strikes that left his team one strike away.

But as grown men and women shrieked and leaped and hugged all around him, Eckstein took a deep breath and stepped back in to hit, feeling amazingly serene.

"The one thing I didn't want to do was get into any type of jumpiness," Eckstein said. "Any type of anything in my body besides just focus on the baseball. And it's pretty calming to step into at the plate in that situation. I have no idea, no reason why."

His teammates, watching him, were shockingly calm themselves. David Eckstein just has that effect on people.

"When David gets two strikes, you still know he'll put the ball in play," said Walker. "David doesn't have bad at-bats. Ever."

And he didn't have one here. Lidge tried to put him away with one final slider. Eckstein slapped it toward the left side. The third baseman, Morgan Ensberg, lunged. But the baseball, somehow, veered just beneath his dive. And the Cardinals were alive.

Next was Jim Edmonds, the same Jim Edmonds whose ejection the day before had been the talk of baseball for the next 24 hours. Lidge got him to take one ugly hack at a 1-and-0 slider. But Edmonds then laid off three straight fastballs, each one harder than the one before it.

And when plate ump Larry Poncino called the last one ball four, that man on deck, the menacing Mr. Pujols, was suddenly marching toward the box representing the winning run.

If there was a word that best described Minute Maid Park at that point, that word would be "nervous." Those roars of ecstasy had softened into mumbles of worry. Those leaps of joy had turned into squirms of fear.

One moment, the Cardinals had been peering into the other dugout, taking mental notes as the Astros players themselves began to celebrate. After all, they'd lost one game all year when they took a lead into the ninth.

In fact, they'd lost one game like that since June 15, 2004. And they'd gone 136-1 in that situation since -- much of it thanks to the brilliance of Brad Lidge. So who could blame them for celebrating? Well, the Cardinals could, for one.

"We were looking over to their bench, and guys were high-fiving," Walker said. "A couple of guys were even dancing. But until that fat lady sings, you can't do that."

You especially can't do that when there's a chance Albert Pujols could get to hit. And now -- voila -- here he was.

"Any time we go into the ninth with the bottom of the lineup coming up," said Jason Isringhausen, "all we're trying to do is get a hit, get a walk, get a couple of guys on -- because we know: We've got to get Albert up there."

It hadn't been one of Pujols' better nights. He was 0-for-4. He'd left five runners on base. He'd even struck out against Andy Pettitte in the third inning with men on first and third and nobody out. It was only the fifth time all season Pujols had struck out with a runner on third and less than two outs.

But none of that mattered now. This was the game. This was the season. This was history.

"Unbelievable," said Cardinals starter Chris Carpenter. "I'm sitting there thinking that we've got the best closer in the game on the mound -- but we also have the best hitter in the game at the plate. ... It was an unbelievable feeling."

Pujols tapped the plate with his bat, dug in and took a messy, off-balance swing at a first-pitch slider for strike one. The noise began to build again. Towels waved everywhere you looked. Thousands of Thunder Stix crashed together. Pujols stepped back in to hit.

"I was just thinking, 'Don't swing at the same slider that I swung at the first pitch,' " he said. "He's probably the best closer in the game besides Mariano [Rivera] right now. He has probably the best slider in the game. I just want to get a good pitch to hit and just put my best swing."

He waved his bat loosely once, then twice. Then he cocked and loaded, rocking gently in the box, as Lidge wound and fired. Pujols even told himself, he would say later: "Don't try to be a hero. Don't try to hit a three-run home run." How ironic was that?

But this was one Lidge slider that didn't plummet as if it were dropped out of an airplane. This was one Lidge slider that hung like the Mona Lisa. And the second it crashed against Albert Pujols' bat, it felt as if the entire stadium was spinning through some kind of surreal Cuisinart.

The baseball climbed and climbed and climbed some more, like one of those missile launches across town. It cleared the scoreboard, cleared the inviting Crawford Box seats where so many heroic Astros homers had been landing for weeks.

It cleared the boxed-in Cardinals bullpen, which sits underneath the stands. So the relievers sitting there watching had no idea where it was heading: Austin? San Antonio? Mars?

"It just disappeared," said left-hander Ray King. "But when it disappeared, we knew that was good."

It cleared the left-field façade, complete with an auxiliary video board and all those Astros pennant flags. It even cleared the train tracks that sit atop the left-field wall.

Finally, with nothing left to clear except planet earth, it splattered off the glass next to the light towers, about a thousand feet away.

And as it clanked off that glass, the most staggering sound of all was the sound of silence where, just seconds before, there had been such a head-pounding din.

"I've never heard 43,000 people shut up, just like that, in my life," Walker said. "One second, you could barely hear in here. And the next second, all that noise was gone. And the only noise you could hear was on our bench."

"When that ball flew over our heads," said King, "I turned to Mike Mason, our bullpen coach, and said, 'That's why they pay that guy 100 million bucks.' "

And that is, in fact, why. But even 100 million bucks doesn't guarantee you that any man can deliver a moment like that one. So as Pujols slowly ambled up the first-base line and watched his ultimate homer fly, even he had to make himself understand the magnitude of what he'd done.

"I just couldn't believe," he would say later, "that I did it."

But he did it, all right. And now he can never undo it. Cue up the videotape. Write another line in the October history books. It's in there. Forever.

We know that now. What we don't know, though, is what it means. Not yet.

To truly define this moment, we need to wait and see how Game 6 and Game 7 (if the Cardinals can get to that Game 7) turn out. Roy Oswalt and Roger Clemens await. So they could spoil the fun. And spoil the memory. But who knows? Maybe this just means more memories, more moments.

"Who knows what's going to unfold when we get home?" said Sanders. "Nobody knows. All we know is this: Now we have a chance."

We'd Like to Thank the Producers....

2005-10-17T20:50:00.000-07:00

I love it when announcers start to end the game in the 7th or 8th inning.

I love it when they named Berkmen's little pussy, barely over the wall home run the play of the game.

You know that little hypothetical game you play with your sports friends? The one that goes, "Okay, game 7, bottom 8, you're only up a run, what pitcher do you want in there?" (Gibson, of course.... on the all-time roster). Now the flip side. Hmm... Game 5? Put up or shut up time? I was on my knees in front of the TV, knowing I and the rest of Cardinal Nation would choose to put our faith in none other than the One and Only Albert Pujols.

Eckstien... the little dude with a heart bigger than the rest of him. No one better to get a little single.. just get on baseb, just stay alive.

Jimmy... Laid off those pitches. I know you got a flair for the dramatics. I know you wanted to be the big hero. But you took a breath... and waited... and took the walk. I know it was hard for you dude. Thanks.

And.... Albert. You.... you are the fucking shit. There is no one I'd rather see in a clutch hit. I knew if it wasn't a HR, it would have been something. Anything. You don't ever fucking quit. You can pull it, knock it through the hole... but you wrapped it up nice and sweet with one swing of the bat.

Oh, I'm not gonna lie. I was crying!!! I was a fucking wreck with the "Oh, TONY!!! Oh.... Oh, Allllberrrrtt....." But Tony always says, play the hard nine, play til that final out. And I've been telling all the naysayers all week... it ain't over til inning 9, strike 3. We didn't lose more than three games in a row all fucking year... and it sure as hell wasn't about to fucking start tonight.

I Live for This!!!

2005-10-12T23:19:00.000-07:00

C.Carpenter (W, 1-0)

IP H R ER BB SO HR PC-ST ERA
8 5 2 2 3 3 1 96-61 2.25

(And the fucking squeeze! puppy dogs and ice cream!!!)

Okay, so I stole MLB's craptastic commercialized tagline. Whatever.

Reggie!

Remember when Steve Kline would work at a Hardee's drive thru for charity or something? I miss that guy. But we can obviously do just fine without him.

I spent most of my night holed up in a corner high, high up, as far away from everyone as possible (which was abou 5 feet, max). Slid the headphones on, drowned out the crowd with kmox.

I know I've been sleeping really horribly lately, but it really hit me when I was walking back to my car. I was fucking exhausted. I was happy just to make it home. But I'm sure the adrenaline had something to do with it.

Commercial Break

2005-10-11T17:47:00.000-07:00

If I saw this guy in my window, the last thing I'd do would be eating his fucking burger.

What's with the gold bling? Is he a pimp?? So, so many things wrong with this one...

I suck at blogging

2005-10-03T23:11:00.000-07:00

Suck? Nah, I'm just inconsistant....

See, I always think of things to write about when I'm driving around, or when I'm at work, but when I'm at home fucking around on the computer is usually when I am most brain dead. At this point, I am listening to what might be some of the worst quality music in the world. I am a pretty consistant music pirater, and tonight I downloaded all of the really bad rap music from the early 90's I used to listen to in high school when I had no taste.But it's nice in a nostalgic kind of way. And Jodeci fucking rocks, damn it!

Yeah playoffs! The birds face the Padres in the divisional series which starts tomorrow afternoon. There's nothing better than October baseball, except maybe WINNING October baseball, which I am quite confidant we will accomplish this year. In other sports related news, football is back and better than ever. I've found myself cheering for the Eagles this year, partially because a very good friend of mine is one of the biggest Eagle fans ever, and partially because McNabb is fucking amazing to watch. Sunday's comeback victory against the Chiefs was enough to push me into football mode (although not completely... still a month of MLB!!). When it comes to the NFL, I can really watch almost any football game, and I'm not really like that with baseball.

School. Work. School. Work. The two consistant standbys. Both boring, both take up about 99% of my time. But hey, I still had time for "Yay-Birthday-Sarah '05". Lots of drinks at my favorite bar at midnight with some good friends. I got to see my old roommates who I simply love to peices, even though we rarely see one another. The next night was lots and lots of delicious sushi from Miso in Clayton. All in all, it was quite a nice little weekend. Maybe not as crazy as previous celebrations, but I never said that was a bad thing.

And my two best friends in the whole world moved all the way across the country. I spent almost every night for two weeks just hanging out and watching Madden 06. I guess that shows how important someone is to you-- if you're willing to spend night after night watching simulated football games, you're really friends with someone. It sucks though... I lost my only girl friend and my last good sports friend... who am I going to watch football with now? There's nothing better then arguing about football over beer or alcohol of choice.

Ugh. I finally caved in. I plugged in that stupid television. I had to watch football!!! I can't spend every sunday throwing money away at a bar. I am such a guy when it comes to football. I yell at the TV and everything. Plus, I like to watch all the playoff games, even if it's not the Cards.

I haven't had a lot of time to read lately because of school, but I recently finished a good biography on Joe Dimaggio. It was written post-humously, and it's not one of those feel good cheesy bio's filled with corny anecdotes. Starting with his youth in the Italian neighborhoods in San Fransisco, it traces his career and life outside of the baseball world just as much as his impact on the game. No sugar coating, which I absolutely despise in non-fiction. I have a handful of used bookstores I'm getting into the habit of shopping at, so I'm trying to procure copies of all the good baseball books I've read over the years as well as aquiring new favorites.

Lots of highs, lots of lows... but I guess that's only to be expected. There's this little thing that I always seem to be forgetting, even though I'm reminded of it often. LIFE IS NOT FAIR!!!! But, it can be fun... I just need to try to make it fun as often as I can. Tomorrow is a big day... a coffee date and playoff baseball!

Trains, Trains, and Water Fountains

2005-08-17T20:53:00.000-07:00

So last week I sat down and wrote a nice, long, informative entry. Of course, as soon as I hit “publish”, Explorer decides to die on me. By then, I was far too pissed off to sit and rewrite everything. Fortunately, I still remember all the important events in my life, so this shouldn’t be too horribly difficult.

This summer fucking flew by. And what have I learned? Well, I really need to look closer at the positive side of not-so-positive situations. Just because something goes horribly wrong does not mean nothing good comes of it. Like “Law Enforcement Disaster ‘05” (as my loving friends would refer to it). That was so unbelievably fucked up, but now that I look back on it, the whole thing didn’t turn out so bad. I found a couple of really amazing friendships with some guys that had previously been only casual acquaintances. When you have to go outside your normal social circle to vent and seek out advice, these things happen rather easily.

My whole life I have been absolutely scared to death of trains. I stop half a mile before the crossings when the barricades are down. I have had nightmares about them. And I believe they are by far the creepiest form of transportation. I attribute this fear to some movie I saw the ending of when I was about five or six where some girl was hit by a train and died. Oh, and those horrible stories about people getting hit from behind while waiting for a train, and then are forces under it and drug along for a few miles. Back when I was in college, there was a serial killer passing through southern Illinois (passing through? That just sounds wrong), and he was getting around by way of train. Huh. Imagine that. Anyway, I find it rather interesting that my apartment complex is directly in front of active railroad tracks. And it does not bother me a bit. It never wakes me up at night, and I barely hear it when I’m awake.

A couple Thursdays ago was “Yay-Fun-Sarah-Bestie-Jeremy-Baseball-Action”. (Not to be confused with former events like “Yay-Birthday-Sarah-Baseball-Action” or “Yay-Fun-Sarah-Neen-Baseball-Action”.) The Marlins came into town and we watched a very tough loss against a mediocre NL East team. However, the real fun was after the game. After jumping around Busch Stadium after the game, saying goodbye by posing for pictures perched upon statues, we started the trek back to the car. As we’re walking through Kiener Plaza, I mention, as I always do on a walk through downtown (especially after a few cocktails and baseball), how much I want to walk through a fountain. Now, most of my friends would laugh. And most of them would stop me. However, Jeremy just laughed and said “Okay, let’s go.” So we swam around in the fountain at Kiener Plaza for a few hours, splashing and laughing and having the best time ever. That was something I’d always wanted to do, and it was just as much fun as I’d ever imagined it could be. Now I can die happy.

Hot Sushi action the other night. I went back to Wasabi, my favorite place here in St. Louis by far. The food was fucking amazing and the company was even better. But I can’t divulge more than that right now.

I'm embarrassed to admit how knowedgeable I am on the following subject. For anyone who's spent the past few months without a radio, TV, or friends that force pop culture on them, let me fill you in on a little song R. Kelly put out called "Trapped in the Closet." This is quite possibly the most amusing thing I've heard pass for music in quite sometime. Basically, R. (or Kelly. Whatever.) Is singing in first person, telling the listeners the story of a man who wakes up in some other woman's house after cheating on his wife the night before. Well, this woman is married, and her husband just came home, and if that wasn't enough, he's cheating on her, too! With a man! Then R decides to call his house, but when some guy answers instead of his wife, he goes speeding home (in front of a really bad blue screen- oh, yeah, the video plays like a soap opera). Even though he gets pulled over, he makes it home in time to find... nothing. His wife in the shower. So they start fucking. Except he finds a condom on the bed. Turns out she was fucking someone else... the cop that pulled him over. I HATE YOU R KELLY! And he's not done... there's a part six coming out soon. My friends and I simply can't stop making fun of this.

I lost my wallet last weekend while I was out with my friends. I was out a lot of money and and ID. (I still had a fucking awesome rockstar time!) So I head down to the DMV to get a new license, hoping they don't need any drastic ID like a birth certificate or DNA test. Luckily I was able to get a replacement without much of a hassle. I don't know how it happened, but I took the best picture in the history of licensing. My first picture was awful- I looked pouty or sad or something. The second one wasn't horrible, but it wasn't great. And my last one didn't even look like me. This one is amazing. It's a good thing I like getting carded. Oh, and looking 19 always helps, too.

I can’t wait for school to start. I’m such a nerd. If I could have an unlimited gift certificate to any store in the world, I would probably pick Borders.

And I got to play Madden the night it came out. The new passing thing is a bitch. Now, the QB can only pass to a whichever WR are in his field of vision, which actually makes it a lot more realistic. But if your QB has a shitty rating, he won't have as big of a window as a Brady or Manning. It's going to take a little getting used to, but it does leave me to wonder what the fuck they're going to do next year.

"I am a writer/writer of fiction
I am the heart that you call home
And I've writen pages/upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones"
--"The Engine Driver"
courtesy of The Decemberists

Thug Passion, baby

2005-07-07T21:27:00.000-07:00

I have the best friends in the world. For the first time in my life, I actually have a good group of people I can just hang out and be myself with. Cheers to bad rap music, cold beer, and crazy alcoholic concoctions.

And I just realized I haven't mentioned my darling roommate, who has been here about a week. Mr. Chilli, my little terrier, is now home. We are so in love with each other it's gross. Poor little guy; he's not very photogenic.

Somewhere between High School and Liver Spots

2005-07-05T16:31:00.000-07:00

Where do I even begin?

Yesterday was the one holiday I might just hate as much as Christmas. Actually, I like to celebrate the 4th, I just don't believe in it's origins. But I absolutely love fireworks. I got together with a few friends and spent the whole night outside, and it was kind of relaxing. I'd had a rough weekend though, so sitting back and just watching things explode might have been a good idea. The night before I had been to Laughs on the Landing to watch my friend's sketch comedy show again. (I know I've mentioned them before but they are absolutely hilarious. Check them out.) The venue was fucking amazing- they had a bunch of couches and TV's with playstation games for free. I enjoyed lots and lots of rum and diet coke and a little Tiger Woods golf and should have called it an evening. But no, there's always more vices to explore on a holiday weekend in the Lou. Yeah...

So Friday I went to a going away party for a co-worker that I used to be really good friends with that is moving to San Francisco. I really will miss him, and I feel kind of bad that we're not as close as we once were. He's one of the most unique individuals I've ever met, and it's really hard to say that these days in our cookie-cutter society. Anyway, a nice group showed up to send him off right, and it was a fun night that ended with a bunch of friends at a 24 hour diner. Can't really beat that.

"Yay baseball Sarah"!! My friend and I went to see the Cards on an absolutely wonderful June Sunday. And by wonderful I mean fucking hot. It was great though. We were seven rows behind the dugout, the beer kept me cool, and it was the perfect example of one of the more prominent ways Busch Stadium will be forever preserved in my memory. The smells we fantastic- I am big on baseball smells. The grass, the leather, the beer, the hot dogs (that I don't even eat)... It all combines into this intoxicating wave the just rolls over you and pulls you in.

And it's that time of year again boys and girls... The great All Star debate. Should the fans be voting? Should it be the coaches? Players? Sportswriters? Who got snubbed? Should there be a representative for every team if that means a lesser player on a bad team gets a spot so a more deserving player on another is not? How many pitchers?How many starters? How many closers? Should it "count"? (Sidenote: That first year, when Fox had that tagline "This time... It counts", my roommate and I mocked it constantly.) The same time every year, the same arguments, no conclusions, and then it's all forgotten two weeks later. But I love it, and I participate with grandiose emotion with whomever I can find to join me in the debate.

On that note, my best friend is here. We're going to plan an adventure... My horizon looks kinda empty.

Peace Out Motherfuckers.

A: "Jesus Hates Laughter"

2005-06-19T21:01:00.000-07:00

(Q: Why are there no comedy shows on a Sunday night in St. Louis? That was my guess!)

What a fucking week.

Lots and lots of "yay-fun-best-friend" time with my favorite girl. Driving around Forest Park on a perfect sunny afternoon, looking for a parking spot near the Zoo but away from the crowds, she says something about the zoo being too "in your face", so I reply with: "Zoo, get out my grill!" (In a shitty hoosier accent.) That was the quote of the evening, until we pulled into my apartment complex and saw a boat sitting in the parking lot. After she mocked my idea of stealing the boat, I replied, "Our operation is dangerously low on marine vessels!" I'm a fucking nerd.

Lots of work, but I still had time to get my schedule ready for fall semester, put together a fucking sweet computer desk, and read "Into the Wild". I highly, highly recommend this book.

And I had to say goodbye to someone (something?) I'd grown quite attached to. I'll just say that sometimes we have to come to a point where we realize exactly how good we are. We reach a certain level of self appreciation and respect, and sometimes the situations we find ourselves in are simply too fucked up. So we take control and make a decision that's better for the new, self appreciative self. I know. It's a complicated explanation. But then again, it was a complicated situation. And if any of that made sense, you should probably have your head examined.

Random Midweek Nothingness

2005-06-08T21:24:00.000-07:00

So right now I'm listening to a mix of Modest Mouse, The Decemberists, The Walkmen, Bob Dylan, and Nelly. Yeah, that sounds about right.

I'm starting to get used to living by myself. It is lonely sometimes, a little. But I also like knowing that everything is mine. I have these little selfish tendancies, especially about things like space and time. But as a dear friend told me, selfishness is not necessaily a bad thing. Besides, what's better than coming home, having a cup of coffee, smoking a joint, and just relaxing for awhile listening to questionable music?

Remember when that kid from Lord of The Rings was in that movie where Macauly Culkin was some evil kid?

I hate computer games. I hate stupid Yahoo and Pop Cap. I hate you! Stupid Bejeweled. So god damn addicting. I am an intelligent human being! How am I being sucked in by these forces?

The highlight of my day was spent driving between Webster and Richmond Heights, windows down and music up.

Among Boxes and Bubble Wrap

2005-06-04T20:50:00.000-07:00

I did it! I fucking did it. With the exception of a queen sized bed and a huge dresser, I moved everything I owned all by myself!!! I felt like a buff bad-ass for about 48 hours. I still have a few boxes of clothes to deal with, but everything is starting to come around. Except for the not-having-furniture thing, but I'll deal with that in time.

My best friend is back in town from a semester at Thailand. We went out for some amazing sushi last week. If you've never checked out I Love Mr. Sushi on Olive, I definitely recommend it. The service is amazing, and the food is great. You'd never know from the little strip mall location. Anyway, we had the best time hanging out at Forest Park and driving around, talking. She is one of the most awesome people to just hang out with. We can talk, or be crazy, or do just about anything. Last night we went to see my friend's comedy show at a little venue in Maplewood. He is in the Zim Zam Kok show and it is fucking hilarious. It's exactly my kind of humor- clever, smart jokes, with a cheap sex joke thrown in here or there. But I loved it, and we had a blast. We hung around after the show for some drinks with the cast and I had some much needed laughing/ relaxing time.

I feel bad, but with the exception of my daily sports page, I haven't been keeping up with baseball as much as I'd like. I've only been to a handful of games, and I rarely get to watch them on TV. I can usually catch the last few innings on the radio while I'm driving home from work, though. And during the day when I'm driving around, I've got on 590AM, an all local sports talk radio station I used to work for. I will say, their Cardinals coverage is unmatched.

Our father, who art in centerfield....

2005-04-29T20:05:00.000-07:00

A word about athletes and god: I am really, really tired of professional baseball players mentioning god after every single game. Oh, you know who I'm referring to: The JD Drews' of the world following each performace with the following quote: "I just want to thank god for________ (home run, stolen base, insert baseball statistic here)." For once I'd like to hear an athlete say he won a game because he didn't believe in god. "That's right boys and girls at home... I struck out the side because I'm an atheist."

It'll never happen. But a girl can have drunken ramblings and dream. And laugh.

Working Undercover for the Man

2005-04-26T17:42:00.000-07:00

I have all these things I want to write about. I sit at work and recall clever anecdotes, amusing conversations, and crazy experiences. Then I come home and get caught up with other trivial bullshit and never manage to update this thing. Highlights from the past couple weeks:

The Botanical Gardens on a fabulous spring day with the greatest company in the world. It simply doesn't get much better than feeling the warmth of the sun glowing on your skin, watching the color splash before your eyes.
Cards/Cubs. We split two at Busch. You know, I've got to say, people talk up the Yankees/Red Sox rivalry, and I wonder how much of that is the great Eastern Media Hype. Out here in the Midwest, it ain't about the media. It's about the fans. It's about old school fans that listened to scratchy KMOX broadcasts on summer nights before ESPN and Fox Sports Midwest were even in someone's imagination. I could go on for ages about my feelings on this, but I'll save that for the next series.
Finding an apartment! Yes! Finally! The location is amazing. I could walk to school from this place, and it's less than a 10 minute drive to the Galleria. It's on the older side, but other than that it's pretty much exactly what I was looking for.
New job! (Oh, I'll still be barista-ing it up 40 hours a week.) This is just a part time gig to pay some bills, but I really needed it, and the hours are perfect. So now I can make your latte and give you a makeover.
I have also been reading a lot lately. My problem is, once I get really into a book, I can't put it down and then end up finishing it in less than a week. I just started "The Mosquito Coast" and am highly recommending it to everyone.
Lots of much needed Barcardi and Diet Coke (with a cherry!) with my favorite girl. And a little hot, sweet, kareoke action.
Cards. 'Stros. SWEEP motherfuckers! Yeah... Show us your Rocket. Mulder gave us 10 innings last Saturday in my favorite kind of ballgame. A classic pitchers dual, scoreless until the tenth. Sanders gets on, the hit and run moves him over (how I love the hit and run!!!) and then Walker hits an RBI ground rule double to end the game. 10 innings from a starting pitcher is practically unheard of in these days of pitch counts and middle relievers. I love it.
Some fabulous spring thunderstorms as well.

birds are singing, but not swinging...

2005-04-11T19:19:00.000-07:00

I have to admit, I might be the only person alive that loves spring in St. Louis. I like getting up one day to sunshine with a light breeze, only to awake the following morning to a fabulous spring thunderstorm. When I first moved into this apartment a couple years back, my roommate and I would sit outside on the little landscaping (that's a VERY generous term) outside our porch, watching the lightning dance across the sky while my other roommate kept us updated on the Doppler radar from inside. Spring storms are the best. So relaxing and sexy at the same time. So easy to curl up with a book (or someone else) and spend a few extra hours in bed.

Yesterday was one of the sunshiney, springy days. My mom and I drove way up to Bumfuck, Illinois to spend the afternoon someplace different. The drive up was very scenic- the road was maybe 5 feet away from the Mississippi River for most of the trip, with the towering bluffs on the adjacent side. We ate at an awesome restaurant with aquariums at every table. The one at our table had a great collection of African Cichlids. I am a huge fan of cichlids. They are about a million times more interesting to keep than any other tropical fish. When I get set up in my new apartment, I hope to start a new tank featuring South American cichlids.

I try to spend about one day a week just hanging out with my mom. Now that I'm older, I definitely appreciate her and her opinions a lot more. She works as a Special Education teacher for the East St. Louis school district. I don't know how she does it. East St. Louis is one of the most run-down, crime infested cities in the Midwest, comparable to places like Gary, IN. And here's all these kids with crackhead mothers and who knows what other problems, and my mom is there, day in and day out, trying to make a difference. Once or twice a year you'll hear about famous athletes or whoever going into the inner cities, hosting clinics or having picnics, but what these kids really need is someone like my mom there all the time, not just in school. Someone working with the kids, not just some athlete passing through. And then I think, one less fucking bomb in Iraq and somebody could be working full time in every playground in East St. Louis or wherever.

Off day for the Cards. Hell, they needed it after the ass kicking Philly handed them over the weekend. Our offense simply did not show up. I can't really imagine that Philadelphia just has a good pitching staff. Tomorrow night Marquis goes up against the Reds. I might head up to Busch to check out the game. Upper Terrace Reserve price is only $5, for a limited time. (After Memorial Day the prices are jacked up... The bastards are stealing my money!) Regardless, I'm just hoping for a couple midweek W's.

I am not an architect...

2005-04-09T21:57:00.000-07:00

...nor do I claim to be. There's this song that came out a few years ago by a little group called The Decemberists, "Here I Dreamt I was an Architect". A highlight from this wonderful song:

"And we are vagabonds
We travel without seatbelts on
We live this close to death"

I am big on song lyrics. Actually, I think my musical tastes are much broader than most people I know because I can appreciate thoughtful, clever lyrics in almost any genre. However, I still refuse to listen to anything on the radio but sports talk or kdhx (listener supported, commercial free broadcasts on 88.1FM). I do not like most of the new music that has been coming out lately. It's all so cookie cutter and meaningless.