Taking a breather

I'm going to take some time away from writing about my poor Red Sox.
It's just too painful. I will of course, continue to visit my faves, and maybe comment in the interim.

One last note:
On the whole Lester/medical tests/maybe cancer thing -
I'm really hoping it turns out to be nothing.
My brother had cancer of the lymphnodes (Hodgkins) as he was finishing up college.
Pretty much was Lester's age at the time.

But, he came through it fine with treatment.
I'm hoping Lester doesn't have to go through that.
Never mind we don't want him to miss any starts. That is so secondary. not even secondary, tertiary, quarternary, or whatever the word is.

The team in general is ailing, and I'm officially giving them a pass.
Six days to football.

Love you Sox! It's ok.

Something is amiss

When Mark Loretta is the DH for a game. Nothing against the guy, honest. He's great. But.....
No Manny, no Papi, (no Wily Mo either, but that's not as difficult to take)
Oh yeah, no V-Tek either, along with a slew of injured players, primarily pitchers, that are making the end of this season look like something that is going to resemble pulling teeth without painkillers.

On that note, I'm putting my faith in Beckett and the boys and going out for pub quiz.

I knew I didn't want to know

I went to bed early last night.
We were only losing 2-0 at that time.
I had a baaaaaaad feeling.

This morning, well, the feeling proved accurate.
Red Sox are officially imploding. 9-0 loss. 7 games back.
Where's the fork? I think they're done.

I won't quite declare it just yet, but man, not looking good.
Not many games left.
Not a happy camper.
I just hope Papi's ok.

At least football's about to start. I could use the Patriots right now.

Figures

Beckett finally is pitching the way we know he can and he leaves the game due to an injured wrist. (update - turns out it was his finger, not his wrist. This is what happens when I can't watch the game but instead get updates from MLB.com, who said he left the game w/an injured wrist - but hey, a cut finger's a hell of a lot better!)

Well crap. Hopefully it turns out to be nothing, kinda like Manny's knee, and he'll be back for his next start, hopefully to continue this max one run kind of outing that he finally showed us again tonight.

The Sox game is still going, but considering the Twinkies and the White Sox both won tonight, not helping us in the wild card race, hopefully we'll get the win and gain a game on the Yankees since they lost tonight (thank you, Seattle, just be sure to lose to us in a day or so...).


Postscript: We Love the Papelbon! Good man, Jonathan. Sox win!!!!

OK, we're making progress. Baby steps, sugar.

Sick of being miserable

Take this with a grain of salt, I just have to get this out of my system.

Prozac only does so much.
I've been more miserable lately than I think I've been in years.
It's a combination of so many things and, believe it or not, none of it has anything to do with the Red Sox. Honest.

I just kinda keep waiting for the tide to turn, for things to get better, for life to improve. I briefly thought it was for a time, with the new, now non, job and so on.

Bottom line though, nothing is really going well at all.
I look at it from so many angles and keep coming up with the same conclusion. My life is pretty goddamn shitty right now. I've been trying to remind myself, pretty much daily, that it could be worse. Of course it could be worse. Of course countless people are worse off than I am and of course I should be grateful for how my life is instead of bitching about what's wrong with it.
But I'm tired of reminding myself. I'm tired of having to talk myself into thinking of the positive.
And I'm tired of crying daily, as I am right now.

No job. Few friends. Poor health. Little life right now. I know, I'm whining, get over it. It's just particularly difficult right now and I honestly don't know why.

In the meantime, things appear to be looking up for my roommate, and I'm happy for him, really I am. He has a larger circle of friends than I could ever dream of. He's always going out, or going out of town to visit, always on the phone or chatting online with his friends. I'm happy to get spam.
He's also about to get a great new job, judging by how his last round of interviews went.
I really am happy for him. But, and don't take this the wrong way, I'm kind of annoyed. Not with him, just with his level of life and how effortlessly it seems to come to him. It's also a constant reminder of how much my life is lacking.

Chalk it up to jealousy. Pure and simple. It just gets difficult to remind myself how much my life really doesn't suck when it so clearly does, if only in comparison to the person I'm closest to and live with.

I'll get over it. I always do.
But when is it my turn?

Anyway, disregard all of the above. I just needed to let it out.
I'll be in a better mood tomorrow. Promise.

Hell of a time to blow a save, Pap.

Getting downright disgruntled.
5 1/2 back.
Pissy.

That about sums it up.
Crap.

Game 5 today. I was thinking about going out to watch it.
But let's see. Just how badly do I want to put lemon juice in my paper cut?

3 1/2 games out

No Comment.


Update: Make that 4 1/2.
Shit.

Begin Phase One

Well, I'm getting ready to head out.
Almost time for the first of five against the much hated Yankees.
This one, the first of today's doubleheader, is on ESPN so I can actually watch it on tv, at the bar.

We'll have to see how the first few innings go before I decide to start drinking this early in the day.
Here's hoping though.

We're only 1 1/2 games out after yesterday's trouncing of the Yanks by the O's (thank you Baltimore!). So, per usual, the cautious optimism is in place.
Just hoping our pitching staff is up to the challenge.

Days like today I'm ok with being out of work.
So for all of you, stuck at work, I'll pass the warm thoughts for our Sox on as I watch.


Go Sox!!!

Son of a @$%#*^!!!

Crapola.
We lost again.
Late in the game, go figure.
Schilling pitched six great and one not-so-great inning(s).

We tied it up.
Timlin gave it up.

Crappity crap-crap. Apologies, not feeling terribly creative in my babbling at present.

I was going to find solace in the Yankees losing to Baltimore but, as of now, they've managed to tie it up.

Crap.

Hrmmmm. ok. Rather than waste your eyes with my blathering, I'm going to go back to the TV. There's nothing on, but Netflix was kind to me today, so I'm off for that and a little meditative crocheting.

Note to self: Be sure to put pics up of my lovely yarn-wares. The holidays are just around the corner's corner. Get your orders in now!

Go orioles?

Crap.

Ripped nylons and a twisted ankle

I knew I shoulda gone with my gut.
I knew I shouldn't have even gotten off the bus.

I'm home now. Home from my would-be job on the southwest side of Chicago.
I now have a twisted ankle and a pissy-fuckin' mood.

Allow me to explain.
I was on the bus, going west having already gotten as far south as I was going to have to go to get to this job.
Driving along, the neighborhood look increasingly worse as the ride goes along.
But what's the big deal, right? It's daytime. Even bad neighborhoods are ok in the daytime, right?

So, I get off the bus and proceed to walk the final two blocks necessary to arrive at my new job. Two blocks. One eighth of a mile. Not far. Not at all.

The first thing made me smile on the inside. I got cat-called. Annoying, sure, but it's been a while since that happened to me.

Then a mother-fucking punk ass, what I can only guess was high school aged, rat bastard tried to mug me!!!
Seriously. I couldn't believe it, but man, if there's ever someone you want to try to mug, yes, go for the chick in the unsensible work shoes.
Fuckin' a.

So, I grappled with him a little bit, and then a man on the other side of the street shouted at him and appeared to start to walk over. Walk. It's something, I guess.
So the punk ass bitch ran.
I was livid. Unharmed, but pissed off. Still am, but my ankle hurts like a sonofabitch.

So I went to my job. Sat down with them and politely explained that the commute was simply too far for me to make on a regular basis. They couldn't have been nicer. They completely understood and were very surprised and sympathetic when they heard that I had taken the bus over. "You didn't drive?! Ohhh, then yeah, we totally understand."

Then one of the owners insisted that one of his employees drive me to a better area before I take the bus home. Very kind, and sort of indicative of how crappy the neighborhood is, considering that I didn't tell him what had transpired just prior to my arrival. So, the guy drove me over about three miles east, in a safe district, where I caught the bus north and got home.

I am so, unbelievably, rockabilly, pissed off.


There you have it.
I'm going to have a cup of tea and try to fully calm down.
Then I'll call the agency.

One game back!

Ok, two for the wild card but hopefully, after next weekend, that won't have to be such an issue.

It wasn't pretty, and thank goodness for three-run, and grand slam homers since, man, does our pitching need some tweaking.
Our poor bullpen has been getting run through the ringer of late, and boy does it show, but it all worked out! We won against, swept that is, the Orioles, the Yankees lost and we're right back in the mix.
Still, it was pretty ugly getting there. Despite everything, though, we came through with the W. Papelbon had a rough time. Pitching a very uncharacteristically 30+ pitches for two outs (and two walks along the way).

But I'm not complaining. Not a bit. Just hoping that they'll have a few days of stressfree rest before facing the Yankees for, what, five, games? Games that will, if not decide, set the tone for what will hopefully be a very promising post-season for our dear Red Sox. The next few days will certainly not be easy though, considering we'll be facing the Tigers who, between licking their wounds after getting beat up on by the other Sox, and seeking vengeance against any team with the word "Sox" in their name, will no doubt, be out for blood.

Ah well, if nothing else, I know all my Chicago friends will be pulling for my Sox for a change.

I'd type more but, frankly, since I had to watch the game via updates on my computer, I can't say too much. But, yay!!!!

Ok, I'm starting a new temp gig in the morning. It doesn't start til 9 but since it's somewhere near Guam (ok, the southwest side of Chicago - I live on the north side) I'll be departing around 7 to get there in time. If nothing else, it's always good to be early on the first day, right? Go work ethic!!! Hire me full time please! This uncertainty and inconsistency that is typical with temp jobs is starting to wear on me a little. It'd be nice to have something steady for a change. - Read as: More than three weeks worth of work? Please?

Well, if nothing else, I'm retiring in a good mood. Aprehensive, maybe a little nervous, but pleased nonetheless.

Good night, all.
Go Sox!

Alrighty then!

Apparently, I need to threaten not watching games more often.
My Sox kicked many, many levels of ass tonight, as well they should've.

More importantly, the Yankees and the Twinkies lost tonight too, narrowing parts of the gap in the division and Wild Card races for us in the future.

So, yay!

On the football front, I'm feeling pretty good about our Patriots thus far. Yeah, we lost tonight, but you know, considering we had our 2nd/3rd string players in for the last three quarters, I'm pretty damn pleased with losing by three points to Atlanta. For as little as the pre-season counts, I enjoyed the game.
Oh, and by the way, about halfway through the game, the Bears/49ers game came on another channel while I was watching.

It's still going on now, and I can't help but giggle.
For all the experts that were seriously thinking the Bears could be a SuperBowl contender this year. Yeah, well, so far, they're down 10-0 to last year's worst team.

Who knows? But for now, I'm enjoying a nice sarcastic chuckle at the expense of my fellow Chicagoans. Yes, you guessed it. Despite all more recent success by the Patriots, I never did get over that Bears/Pats Superbowl trouncing.
Oh well. Jess who laughs last, laughs best, yes?

*tee hee*

Time for historical consistency

If everything follows as it should, the Sox should be fine for the next few days.

Should

In the past, we have owned the Orioles and tonight begins another series against them.
I am choosing to, perhaps erroneously, assume that my dear, recently unskilled Sox will follow suit, and begin a new, long overdue, winning streak.

That said, I'm not going to check in on the game tonight and instead watch the preseason Patriots game, as it's on network television tonight so I can save some money by staying in.

Alright, alright, I will check in. But only intermittently.
Go Sox. We're losing patience here. Granted, there's still, theorhetically, plently of time to catch up, but nonetheless, we're losing time.

Go Sox!!!

WTF?

I'm beyond incredulity.
I'm disgusted.

There's nothing to be said.
How do we get swept by the FUCKING ROYALS?????!!!!????!!!!

There are no words.

Go White Sox. At least take two of three from the Yankees, even if it puts us further behind in the Wild Card race. *sigh*
Do I Stutter? *SIGH* Goddammit.

Shit.
I'm out of.....anything.

Regional bias? Not so much.

So, I live in Chicago.
This means that, as I watch play by play updates on the Red Sox game on my computer, I get to watch the Yankees/White Sox game on TV. Truth be told, this is not much of a tradeoff for me.

I find myself yelling at my tv (showing a 2-0 Yanks lead) "I thought we had a deal, Fuckers! We win, you win the next year. Then WE win this year again!!! Oh C'mon!!!!!!"
At least, that was the deal I had with my die hard White Sox buddy.

Guess I got my voice back. There's something to be said for kicking a flu. Still left with the bronchial cough, but at least I'm upright for more than two hours at a time for the first time in days.


Well, yelling did something, now it's 2-1.

Go Sox! Both kinds!


Postscript: I really want to hold on til the end of both games but just don't have it in me. Still convalescing. Still sick. Still desperately need to be horizontal (unfortunately, not in the good way) so I'm going to bed. Both Sox are losing with plenty of game left to happen, so I'm hoping to wake up to find at least one (preferably both) team(s) successful. I mean, for cryin' out loud, it's KC!!!!

'Night.

At least there's football

I'm still sick. I think that sums it up, but just in case:

I can't breathe.
I'm still over 100 degrees in temp.
It hurts to be vertical.

I guess this is what I get for looking forward to having the apartment to myself for the weekend. I can't enjoy it, but at least my roommate's not getting sick from me.

And there's football to be watched again. It's going on right now.

I love football. I really do. Don't get me wrong, I love baseball, even when the Sox are screwing the pooch like they did today. But man, I adore football. It's the shortest season of any sport and I find myself waiting all year for it.
Granted, baseball is a definitely valued and worthy diversion, but I can't help remembering, a couple years ago, when the Sox won it all. I was without question, delirious with happiness. But at the same time, a little chagrinned that I'd missed out on a few weeks of football in the process. Don't get me wrong, I'd be willing to miss more than a few weeks if it meant of Sox victory, but still.

Aw hell, what am I saying? It must be the fever talking. Back to the couch.
*sniffle*

The Bad news and the good news

The bad news, of course, we lost tonight. Wells imploded in the fourth and we couldn't recover in the long run.
The good news, the Yanks lost too. So thanks to the O's for keeping up their end of the bargain. I don't know what our end was, but I'm glad they won.

I'm still ill, so I'll be brief before retreating to bed again.
Fever's holding steady at 102 for the second day. I'm getting a little snarky as a result, so I think it may be best that I keep all editorials to myself until my brain is thinking clearly again. Maybe tomorrow. We'll see.

G'night.

The good with the bad

First the good, hell, great. Papi! Kapler! Pap! Youk! even Schill. All combined for a tough/gritty/exciting 3-2 win over the Rays.
The bad? Well, the Yanks won too, even though it looked like the O's might pull out a win for us. Mirabelli's hurt. Hell, everyone's hurt it seems like.
What we have to remember is this - Times like these prove just how good a ballclub is.
Remember how the Yanks beat us w/half their roster hurting earlier this season? Yeah, I don't like to remember it either, but it scared the crap out of me as far as things to come once they became healthy again.

I want us to do the same. To instill fear and dread in teams we will be facing in the coming months. I want them to see us kick every form of ass while we're hurting and then, get healthy as we turn our eyes on them (yes, I'm talking to you, NY).

Seems plausible enough to me. Anyone else? Oh come on!


Now, for my kvetch of the day. I'm sick again. I thought it was just a summer cold but after last night it's a full on summer flu. Again.
Now with the fever, cough etc, I'm trying to take some cold medicine like a good girl. Anyone want to explain to me why, when you've already got a sore throat, the DayQuil geltabs are the size of horse pills? Just wondering.

Off for more water and bedrest.

Go Sox!!!

Serenity now!

So, my dear roommate/best friend took off today for the land to the north. He'll be in Toronto til Monday so today is day one of Jess's weekend of sweet solitude.
Don't get me wrong, love the guy to death, but with both of us not working right now, I think we've been stepping on each other's toes a little bit.
Plus, you know, the apartments mine (all mine!!! Bwa ah ah ah) for the weekend.

Don't know that I have any great plans, but anyway, there you go.

Of course, tonight I will be spending at the bar, as the Red Sox game is on ESPN2 tonight which means I get to watch it.
I'm hoping they'll just get the win flat out, score some runs right away, and that'll be that. I say this because twice this week, I've gone to bed or turned off the computer/tv annoyed, convinced the loss was going to happen, only to wake up and find out that someone fantastic (Papi, Loretta) came through in the bottom of the ninth to win it for us.
Needless to say, it's a fantastic thing to have happen, but I'd rather go to bed in great mood, if that's alright with you and hopefully, the Sox will be accomodating.

What else? Who knows? Sending out a few more resumes, whining a little more, then off to the bar. Have a good night, all.

Go Sox!