The season is over.
We didn't make the playoffs.
I sit here, fettuccine in homemade cheese sauce in a bowl, and cold can of PBR by my side...as I try to work through the emotions of being a fan.
All at once, I am hurt, upset, depressed, hateful, angry, incensed, perplexed, and exhausted.
On the other hand, I am relieved in that doing this for another month would have probably given me an ulcer big enough for Mo Vaughn to fit through.
And also, being a fan, I am hopeful that next season will be better. I now can watch television that doesn't involve nine innings and return to my life as a single nerd looking to meet a special someone.
In other words, I have a whole other mess of issues to obsess over and be upset about.
See, there I go whining again. How blase, how unattractive, how...how...emo.
I don't mean in the good sense here, like Rites of Spring and Texas is the Reason. No, I'm talking about stretch-pants emo. The kind of emo that makes people take vacuum cleaners and weed-whackers to their hair to make a fashion...I mean personal statement. Here's some advice emo-kid: stop it. Just stop it.
So as a fan, what happens now? I pick myself back up and get back out there. I mean, I have to find something to fill the time- mise well be dating.
amirite?
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Just my luck
My sister wins a chance to get NLCS tickets for the Mets. Being the awesome sister that she is, she offers me a chance to buy tickets,and I jump at the chance.
Of course, my luck permeates time and space to screw the Mets.
Yes, world, I am taking the blame for the Mets collapse this season!
Of course, my luck permeates time and space to screw the Mets.
Yes, world, I am taking the blame for the Mets collapse this season!
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Movin' eighteen miles a minute but not slowin' down for nuthin'
Time for some random thoughts:
*I want to record a CD. Just a rock album, but in the background have the low whine of a police siren. This way, when people are rocking out t my music in their car, they'll constantly be paranoid of getting pulled over.
*The Mets are not a playoff caliber team this year. Too many injuries; too old of a team. If they can rebuild their bullpen for next year, I really like their chances.
*Family Weekend starts tomorrow. I am stoked. Everything should go well, but the weather might throw some monkeys into our plan. The shit-flinging kind of monkeys.
*If the Mets do make the playoffs, I predict they will play the Tampa Bay Rays in the World Series, and lose in seven games. The winning pitcher will be Scott Kazmir. Mr. Met will go on a rampage setting fire to Steve Phillips and then beat Victor Zambrano to death with a wiffle ball bat.
*I say the stupidest things at work, and the only witness is my boss. It's a good thing she has a sense of humor.
*If I was terribly injured in a plane crash and all the radio stations were playing "All the Small Things" as they described my terrible turn of events, I'm not sure I would want to get better.
*My neck still hurts.
*jDate is worthless.
*I want my neck to get better so I can get back to the gym.
*I hate talking politics with my parents. They are jaded liberals. I am a hopeful liberal. We're on the same side, but see different levels of liquid in the glass.
*I really hope that liquid is whiskey, and not monkey urine.
*The Minnesota Twins are probably the franchise that is the best at what they do: produce playoff caliber teams year after year. The Yankees used to do this, and then they tried to buy their way to the playoffs every year with success until this year.
*Daniel Murphy is the man.
*I hate having crushes on a woman. It makes everything else about my life infinitely more complex and annoying.
*I went on a cake run today.
*I need a back rub.
That's all for now- go listen to the Dillinger Four.
*I want to record a CD. Just a rock album, but in the background have the low whine of a police siren. This way, when people are rocking out t my music in their car, they'll constantly be paranoid of getting pulled over.
*The Mets are not a playoff caliber team this year. Too many injuries; too old of a team. If they can rebuild their bullpen for next year, I really like their chances.
*Family Weekend starts tomorrow. I am stoked. Everything should go well, but the weather might throw some monkeys into our plan. The shit-flinging kind of monkeys.
*If the Mets do make the playoffs, I predict they will play the Tampa Bay Rays in the World Series, and lose in seven games. The winning pitcher will be Scott Kazmir. Mr. Met will go on a rampage setting fire to Steve Phillips and then beat Victor Zambrano to death with a wiffle ball bat.
*I say the stupidest things at work, and the only witness is my boss. It's a good thing she has a sense of humor.
*If I was terribly injured in a plane crash and all the radio stations were playing "All the Small Things" as they described my terrible turn of events, I'm not sure I would want to get better.
*My neck still hurts.
*jDate is worthless.
*I want my neck to get better so I can get back to the gym.
*I hate talking politics with my parents. They are jaded liberals. I am a hopeful liberal. We're on the same side, but see different levels of liquid in the glass.
*I really hope that liquid is whiskey, and not monkey urine.
*The Minnesota Twins are probably the franchise that is the best at what they do: produce playoff caliber teams year after year. The Yankees used to do this, and then they tried to buy their way to the playoffs every year with success until this year.
*Daniel Murphy is the man.
*I hate having crushes on a woman. It makes everything else about my life infinitely more complex and annoying.
*I went on a cake run today.
*I need a back rub.
That's all for now- go listen to the Dillinger Four.
Monday, September 22, 2008
My butt is wet and saucy
Life is going along like Jose Reyes running the bases. When it gets going, it is really going, but it's just a matter of getting to first.
Please, please, please, you stupid freaking Mets. I love you, just justify that feeling.
I am exploring where I live more and move, and I've decided I need someone with whom I can talk about music. Please, if you have similar tastes to me send me a comment or something. I'm sick and tired of going "holy shit you have to listen to The Ergs!" and getting replies of "I like Kenny Chesney."
I am getting into a groove with work, which is good.
Magic is going to be interesting, as Wizards is thinking about sanctioning the pauper format for at least a little while. This could mean more exposure for my writing. That's really good, but kinda scary. I need top write more.
I wish I had a distinct humorous voice. I've been reading a ton of Brendan Kelly and Mitch Clem, and these guys have distinct funny persona on the web. I want that. I mean, I'm funny looking...does that count?
Please, please, please, you stupid freaking Mets. I love you, just justify that feeling.
I am exploring where I live more and move, and I've decided I need someone with whom I can talk about music. Please, if you have similar tastes to me send me a comment or something. I'm sick and tired of going "holy shit you have to listen to The Ergs!" and getting replies of "I like Kenny Chesney."
I am getting into a groove with work, which is good.
Magic is going to be interesting, as Wizards is thinking about sanctioning the pauper format for at least a little while. This could mean more exposure for my writing. That's really good, but kinda scary. I need top write more.
I wish I had a distinct humorous voice. I've been reading a ton of Brendan Kelly and Mitch Clem, and these guys have distinct funny persona on the web. I want that. I mean, I'm funny looking...does that count?
Sunday, September 14, 2008
The Mets and The Ergs
I am trying very hard not to get too invested in the Mets this September, as last year left me in a great deal of grief. Even so, today's loss stung. That being said, i still think they are going to make the playoffs, but it won't be an easy ride.
Chipper Jones is buying stuff from Shea Stadium. This is kinda cool, but also kinda aggravating. I mean, he is a Hall of Famer who loves hitting at Shea so much he named his son after the stadium. But he's a member of the rival Braves. So annoying.
I always have a knack for getting into bands either after they've broken up or during their farewell tour. This is the case with the Ergs, a wonderful punk act from the less than wonderful state of New Jersey. The vocals are not polished or too deep, which makes them perfect. The slightly nasal and emotive utterances are just what this band needs to layer on top three piece assault. The lyrics, however, are nice and poetic. Take, for example the EP Jersey's Best Prancers. The title is a great play on Lifetime's awesome effort, and the music is just tops. A good drive to every song without everything sounding the same and bland. The vocals help to accent the slightly eccentric collection of songs- everything is distinctly punk and yet everything feels to be influenced by other genres. The vocals, which again have the eerie quality of awesome really bring another side out of the recording.
And even with all this mature style, the songs do not take themselves too seriously- they are songs abut falling in love and listening to music with that special someone. Here, the vocals combine with the subject matter to create the image of a talented young person who just is charming enough to get all those people in the world on to their side. In other words, The Ergs don't pretend to be rock stars- they are just normal people singing songs about life in an everyman voice.
Oh, stop listening to me and just go get an Ergs album, okay?
Chipper Jones is buying stuff from Shea Stadium. This is kinda cool, but also kinda aggravating. I mean, he is a Hall of Famer who loves hitting at Shea so much he named his son after the stadium. But he's a member of the rival Braves. So annoying.
I always have a knack for getting into bands either after they've broken up or during their farewell tour. This is the case with the Ergs, a wonderful punk act from the less than wonderful state of New Jersey. The vocals are not polished or too deep, which makes them perfect. The slightly nasal and emotive utterances are just what this band needs to layer on top three piece assault. The lyrics, however, are nice and poetic. Take, for example the EP Jersey's Best Prancers. The title is a great play on Lifetime's awesome effort, and the music is just tops. A good drive to every song without everything sounding the same and bland. The vocals help to accent the slightly eccentric collection of songs- everything is distinctly punk and yet everything feels to be influenced by other genres. The vocals, which again have the eerie quality of awesome really bring another side out of the recording.
And even with all this mature style, the songs do not take themselves too seriously- they are songs abut falling in love and listening to music with that special someone. Here, the vocals combine with the subject matter to create the image of a talented young person who just is charming enough to get all those people in the world on to their side. In other words, The Ergs don't pretend to be rock stars- they are just normal people singing songs about life in an everyman voice.
Oh, stop listening to me and just go get an Ergs album, okay?
Recovering the Opposable Thumb
So my first big event here is over- all that remains is the write up.
I feel good about how it went, but also bad because there were some minor issues regarding performances. However, the worst confrontations were diffused and will be remedied shortly. But even after a 16 hour day, I still love every minute of my job.
I keep dreaming about fighting, and with the most random people. And these aren't like minor spats- these are bone breaking jaw crunching fights with me doing most of the damage. I really wish I understood what the hell I was thinking.
I'm getting ready to get back into PDC. It's been a while and I just lost the competitive fire I like to have to play the format. Instead, I've been playing a ton of Commander/EDH. It's a nice way to get the non-Spike portions of my gaming personality going.
I am exhausted, I think I need a nap.
I feel good about how it went, but also bad because there were some minor issues regarding performances. However, the worst confrontations were diffused and will be remedied shortly. But even after a 16 hour day, I still love every minute of my job.
I keep dreaming about fighting, and with the most random people. And these aren't like minor spats- these are bone breaking jaw crunching fights with me doing most of the damage. I really wish I understood what the hell I was thinking.
I'm getting ready to get back into PDC. It's been a while and I just lost the competitive fire I like to have to play the format. Instead, I've been playing a ton of Commander/EDH. It's a nice way to get the non-Spike portions of my gaming personality going.
I am exhausted, I think I need a nap.
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