Hey Sheena! I hate to start my post with the same word as my last post, but:
Every year ("Year after year" would also be an acceptable starting phrase to this post, as would "When planet that is known as Earth makes its annual circumlocutory passage around the sphere of nuclear fusion known to the Greeks as Helios"), on July 21st, my sister thinks about maybe sending me a present. A couple of months go by, and right about mid-September, I get a gift. This year it was some books that I wanted, and I feel pretty good in mid-September when I get them, despite the fact that ...
in late September, the latest of September to be exact, I think about maybe sending my sister a present. Afterall, she sent one to me. And she's a pretty good sister, to be perfectly honest. And pretty good sisters deserve presents on occasion. Not too many. Maybe 2 a year is about right. Possibly 3 if I feel particularly generous any given year. After much thought, a couple of months go by, and right about mid-November, she gets a gift. This year, it was:
Every once in great while a game comes along that makes all other games before it moot. One amazing quintessential display of sportsmanship that makes the games before it seem like kids playing catch in the street. Cal's "The Play" in 1982. Boston comes back from 3 down to beat the Yankees in the ALCS this year. June 18th, 2004 was not one of those days. That day Reina and I went to see the Padres lose to Toronto in a rather humdrum game 3-2.
One of the great things about baseball is that if your team loses during the regular season any time before mid-August, you really don't give a crap. There are hundreds of other games. It doesn't really matter. But you do have the opportunite to enjoy the game.
PetCo park is really nice. Nice seats. Well designed. I really like the Western Metal Supply Co. building out at the left-field wall. If you get a chance, check out the stadium. It's cool. A good feel and layout. Spend the extra few bucks to get out of the cheap-seats for a game, too. It's worth it. I took that first picture myself. Rad, eh?
Reina (oh she's going to hate me for that picture up there) and I had beer and garlic fries, got two free inaugural-season towels, and generally had a really good time. Even though the Padres were down most of the game and didn't manage to pull it out in the end. There's something about a baseball game that is simply more relaxing, less harried than other sports. Maybe it's the lack of a clock. Maybe it's that it can technically last forever. I don't know. But I do love it. Good Times.
More catch-up. Belle, my cat, came in on Wednesday the 10th with a huge red eye. It was all watering and swollen and she kept blinking and trying to shut it. So I thought I better take her to the vet right away and put her in the car.
Now, I don't know if you've had cats before, but I sure as hell haven't, and I learned right then and there that if there're two things cats don't like, they're leashes and car rides. hoo-boy did Belle put up a hissy fit in the car, she started clawing her way around the car like a bat out of hell. I hit two stop-lights and man were they agonizing. When we got to the Vets, I opened the door super slow so as to keep her calm and BAM! she runs out and I start chasing her all around the parking lot. I eventually corner her between a thick bush and a dumpster and toss her back in the car all clawing and shit. A man who'd been watching all of this (and not helping, mind you, that fucker) decided to let me know that the Vet has carriers, and if you don't have one, you can borrow one and go home, get your cat or dog or what have you, and bring it back safe and cozy in that. So I went in, got the carrier, got in the car with the still-freaking out cat (who one-wide-eyed and one "sort of trying to be wide-eyed, but more like pink, blinky, teared-up eye") and managed to coax/shove her into the carrier. Brought her into the vet, who managed to examine her eye pretty skillfully, and he gave me some ointment which, for the next two days, I would have to administer after pinning her down and prying open her bad-eye's lid. He also gave me a $50 bill.
It's a good thing I love that cat. Here's a picture of her now that her eye is (mostly) better.
And one of her looking way way waaaaay more perky than she usually is that was taken a long time ago by Reina.
So let's play catch-up.
November 6. Hey, that's Reina's birthday. We hung out with her family on Saturday, then on Sunday I took her to Julian. We were supposed to have a horseback ride, but the lady cancelled. Still, we got a carriage ride. And ate apple pie. Later in the day, took her to Fleming's, a nice steakhouse. Happy birthday to Reina. A nice weekend.
EXCEPT. On Friday we went out with one of her friend's friends and 4 out of 7 of us were hardcore republicans. Now, mind you, I don't mind the one/two issue Republicans who vote completely based on religion under the idea that human life begins at conception (my guess? sometime in the 3rd trimester. but if you think it begins at conception, then i see how you think abortion is murder. just don't talk to me about how killing Iraqis is right before your abortion rant, or I swear to God I will smack the hypocrisy right out of you) and only care about abortion/stem cells. hey, you believe what you believe, you know what issue you care about and i can't fault you your faith.
if you honestly believe that we may need to rise up against the U.S. Government at some point and that's the reason we should have guns, I can't fault you for that either. at some level, I share the belief that the government can't really be trusted (especially lately).
but one dude, this one dude, was hardcore RED, I'm talking "Rush Limbaugh is a genius!" (i shit you not, that's a direct quote), i'm-a-real-american, and-all-you-bastards-are-liberal-unpatriotic-fucks, Bush-has-a-mandate-from-God-and-the-people type Republican. The i-used-to-be-for-fiscal-responsibility, but-now-the-more-we-spend-on-the-military, the-better-off-America-is type. the rest-of-the-world-can-go-fuck-themselves-we've-got-the-power type.