Muffin Face

Well, an entire summer has come and gone and I am fuckin' back, baby.  If you thought I died, well, I didn't.  I was just busy livin'.

Tonight was softball game #5 of the new season.  We play fall ball here in the Boston area well into October.  Our team, the Somerville Orange Stockings (or O-Sox if you want to shorten it) had a game tonight out at Chelsea High School.  We don't usually play there and to be honest the only reason I would ever step foot in Chelsea, other than to play a softball game, would be if I needed a discount on tires or a checked cash on the spot.  It has been no secret that my biggest complaint with playing softball is the competition, or lack of.  We play 70% of our games against teams that would fare no better if they stepped up to bat swinging a severed monkey tail.  And don't get me started on how bad they are at fielding.  You put Stephen Hawking on 3rd and we have a harder time getting on base.  

Well tonight we got to play a good team for a change.  It was great, even if I suffered the worst humility I have suffered since I accidentally gave an ex-girlfriend a Valentine's Day card that said "Happy Valentine's Day, Mom".  (true story, back in 1999, I didn't get lucky that night either).  Going into tonight's game, I was 16 of 16 - batting a perfect 1.000.  If you go back to last season I was 22 of my last 22.  I've never considered myself a very good hitter, so this was rare air I was breathing, and fuck me if I didn't like it.  Every time I got in the batters box I was certain I was getting a hit.  I had stopped swinging for the fences and started focusing on hitting grounders, which baring a fantastic play, I am usually able to leg out.  Well tonight, I take a few pitches and run the count to 3-2.  Next pitch looks low.  Nope, strike 3.  I'm walking back to the bench with my cock in my hand not knowing if I'll ever be able to show my face in public again.  There isn't much you can say after looking at Strike 3 except "Yes, I owe a 30-pack - would you like Schlitz or Golden Anniversary (do they still make that crap)?"  

My next at bat I went back to base hitting.  And boy was it worth it.  I rounded first base and noticed that the center fielder didn't play it cleanly so I was headed for second.  I knew it was going to be a close play.  I slide - safe.  The second basemen, a woman in tight spandex tried to tag me out, apparently by sticking her muff in my face.  And I didn't even have to pay anything!

Next inning our shortstop, Josh, makes an incredible diving catch and doubles up the runner on second.  I could tell it was a satisfying play, because the inning before Josh had a ball go right off the tip of his glove on a similar play.  I heard him mutter on the bench, "If I were two inches taller....I blame my mother for that".  That got me thinking.  I blame my mother for my inability to dance - she didn't listen to enough R&B growing up.

We end up playing solid defense down the stretch and win a thriller 13-12.  I'll trade the strikeout for the victory, even if it means I'm going to have to sit down to pee tomorrow morning, and maybe the morning after that.

After the game I stopped at my second favorite pizza place in Harvard Square, Pinnocchio's.  (Are those hookers out front?  You tell me.)

It is a whole in the wall, but they make good pizza.  It also allows me to drive through Harvard Square playing another fun game that I like to play that involves me not yielding to pedestrians.  NOTE TO ALL PEDESTRIANS:  If I have a green light, and you don't have the little man telling you it is OK to walk, I will not yield.  In fact, I will make an attempt to scare you so bad that by the time you get to the other side of the street, you have a little piece of poo sitting in your underpants.  If you are going to jaywalk, put a little fuckin' hop in your step and make it across the street in under 10 seconds.  Run like you are about to be run down.

Anyways, I came close to 4 pedestrians (by close I mean within 10 feet), which is not a record for me, but it is enough to put a smile on my face.  One of them was in a wheelchair too!  (bonus points).

So I know what all of you are thinking.  Why blog now you son-of-a-bitch?  After taking 3 months off, you expect us to read your drivel now?  Well, yes and no.  No, I don't expect anyone to read except those who have reminded me that I haven't blogged yet this quarter (Kris, Josh).  Considering some of the shit I find myself reading on the internet, I suppose this is no worse.  Am I going to promise to make regular blog posts?  Of course not, I don't make promises I cannot keep.  But I will promise you that I will try, and that is the best you are going to get.

GMR

This past weekend was the Green Mountain Relay.  The Green Mountain Relay is a 200-mile relay race from Jeffersonville, Vermont to North Bennington, Vermont with the majority of it being run on scenic Route 100.  I was running as part of team of 8 people.  

Friday night we met up and left at about 7.30pm, hoping to make it to South Burlington by 11ish, where we would be spending the night, getting up at 5am for a 6.30 race start.  At about 8.30, about 20 miles into my trip, the transmission on my car went to hell.  I was no longer able to drive 75mph - my car was only able to go about 40 mph, and was shaking violently.  This was not good.  I threw the hazards on and was able to get off at the next exit and call the other two drivers to explain my situation.  One of the other cars was ahead of me on the highway and was able to turn around and pick up my third passenger.  Gina and I would attempt to drive my car home.  Well, fortunately for the O/D button (drive override), I was able to make it home driving in 4th gear.  5th gear didn't work and at low speeds, the car would shake.  So, we made it back to Boston, hopped in Gina's car and made it up to South Burlington at 1.30AM.  It was going to be a long weekend.

After 3 hours of sleep on a hotel floor, I wiped the dried spunk out of my eyes, got a few minutes in the bathroom, and was off for a 45 minute drive to Jeffersonville, Vermont to begin the relay.  I would be running 5 legs:  Leg #3 (7.9 miles) would be run at about 8AM Saturday, followed by Leg #11 (9.9 miles) at 4PM on Saturday, followed by Leg #19 (6.6 miles) at 10PM on Saturday, followed by Leg #27 (4.4 miles) at 4AM Sunday, with my last leg #35 (4.7 miles) at 10AM on Sunday.  I got 0 hours of sleep on Saturday, and one shitty hour of van sleep on Sunday at about 7-8AM.  Overall, our team did pretty well, and I was happy with my times considering my lack of serious training.  (Averaged about a 7:10 mile for 33 miles which included a slow last leg where I paced an ultra team that we became friends with after running the first 150 miles with them).

The hardest thing about the race was doing it on a lack of sleep.  There was only one stretch in Leg #27 (my 4th leg) that I had significant pain, and that was when I first got passed and tried to stay with the guy.  He was running close to a 6.30 mile I think, and at that point I was not going to be keeping up with him.  Other than the fact that I now have to deal with a broken transmission, it was a very enjoyable weekend.  (If anyone wants to steal my car, I'll leave the keys in it with a full tank.  Just make sure I don't find it).

Here are some pictures:

This is a bowl of soup I purchased at Exchange #6 near Stowe at the Green Mountain Coffee Visitor Center.  I thought I was able to eat this bowl of soup in the back of a moving van on bumpy roads.  I failed miserably.  (Mushroom Barley, in case you were wondering).

This bear died of natural causes.  Gunshot.

This is a nice looking barn.

This is taken from the bridge that is at the base of the Killington Skyeship (gondola) that crosses Rt-100.  Taken at sundown.  That car was clocked at 126mph!

This past weekend was my 15th high school reunion.  I didn't go.  We didn't have a 5-year or 10-year reunion, so this would have been my first chance to reconnect with some of my old classmates.  I have stayed in contact with a few, and thanks to Facebook, I am up to date with the mundane details of many of their lives.  I only graduated with 85 or so people.  What would you answer if I asked you what the chances are of one of my former classmates having a sex change?  If you answered "100 %", you'd be correct.  This seemed to have been the highlight of the night.  I mean, how do you top this?  

Instead of going to a class reunion, I celebrated Greg's dad's 60th birthday party.  One of the better gifts he got was this blow up doll.  The dog had a real go with her, and we didn't even stuff pulled pork up her rear end like we wanted to.

This coming weekend is the big relay race up in Vermont.  I am on a team with 7 others and we basically have to run the entire length of Vermont - 200 miles.  I am in charge of running 5 legs totaling 33 miles.  It is going to be interesting, considering the farthest I've run in the last 6 months is 9 miles.  

It has been nearly three weeks since I last updated my blog and I have recently taken some heat for it.  Last week I logged on and wrote some stuff, but got side tracked and ended up having a 4th beer instead.  Tonight I had one beer.  Now I'm having a little bourbon (Eagle Rare).

What have I been up to in the last week?  Well, two weeks ago Gina and I went up to New Hampshire and did some camping and hiking.  We also drove up to the top of Mt. Washington in New Hampshire where I got a chance to play with my new camera.  The temperature up top was 34 degrees, with a 60 mph wind.  This is a picture of the train coming up the mountain.  If you look real closely, you can see the train conductor text messaging.

Gina and I like to play a little game when we drive around northern New England.  Well, I guess I wouldn't call it a game.  We look for moose.  Sometimes we look for bear too.  I've only seen a moose once and it was up in Maine when I was 12.  Well, on the way home from New Hampshire two weeks ago I saw my first bear.  He was in between I-93 N and I-93 S and looked a little like this:

Last week, our softball team suffered our first loss of the season, 14-13.  I spent a few innings coaching third base, which is ironic because I usually don't know how many outs there are which makes me one of the least qualified people to coach third base.  But, I coach third base a lot, because it makes me feel like I am a coach and I've always deep down wanted to be a coach of something.  Also, it increases my chances by 90% of taking a line-drive to the nut-sack and that would surely give me some good blogging material.  I noticed two things while coaching third base last week.  1)  We can't approach the good teams the same way we do the bad.  While we can run all day on the bad teams, the good teams actually have players capable of making plays.  This is especially true with less than two outs.  2) If this were our pitcher, we would probably average more than 0.8 fans/game: 

This past weekend I did some running.  I ran 9 miles on Friday night, 7 miles on Saturday morning, and another 9 miles on Sunday afternoon.  The hardest one was on Sunday, both physically and emotionally.  Physically I was tired from the two previous days.  I had also eaten a pork sandwich (from Hi-Rise Bakery) about three hours prior.  The sandwich is called a Nat Queen Cool and is my new favorite.  Anyways, it was sitting in my stomach and I almost lost it.  At mile 7, I came across an injured baby rabbit.  It looked to have gotten hit by a bicycle and was suffering on the bike path.  It was clearly going to die.  I moved it to the side, and then decided to put it out of it's misery by stomping on it 3 times.  It was pretty gross, and didn't make me feel to good.

Speaking of not making me feel too good, I saw this band in Copenhagen in 1998.  Do any of you know who it is?  Whoever can name them first can pick my next blog topic.

Get Down! No just kidding, you can eat that.

Fisher has recently taken a liking to people food.  I realize that it is a bad habit to give animals people food.  I typically don't make it a habit of giving other peoples pets people food, or wild animals either.  But Fisher is small, and when he becomes annoying, it is easy to lock him in a room.  It is also interesting to see the different things that he will eat versus what he won't.  For instance, he loves chips (especially tortilla), but he doesn't really like beer (import or domestic).    

Not surprisingly, he likes meats and cheeses.  But, he also likes broccali, salted nuts, bread pudding.  I never would have thought he would eat bread pudding, which is why I didn't think twice about leaving a piece out one morning when I went to take a shower.

I was pissed about this one, and after I put the camera away I gave him a beating he didn't soon forget.  I swear, that Gatorade was almost full too!

Gina isn't very happy about all the people food I give the cat.  She says it isn't good for him.  She told me once, "Do you want him to have a heart attack?".  After I got done laughing, I told her "No, cats can't have heart attacks silly."  But, I don't want him to live forever either.  My mom has a cat, Orbit, who is going to be 22 years old in September.  That is too old for a cat that has never had a run in with John Coffey.

Orbit is deaf, near blind, and I have no doubt it will live another 2-5 years.  That is why I am going to try and feed Fisher foods that will allow him to live 8-12 years, a fine life span for a cat.

Have you seen my vacuum?

One of the things that I find unfortunate about Corporate America is that it is frowned upon to write on the wall in the bathroom stalls.  Often times when I am sitting on the can, staring at the floor, I reminisce about college and the funny little things that would take up the time.  I can still remember some of these lines.  "Flush twice, it's a long way to the kitchen" was a good one.  There was also someone who identified themselves as "The Bathroom Poet" who wrote some very catchy poems.  At one point during my freshman year, there was a dorm controversy in which someone stole the vacuum cleaner from our janitor, Juan.  Someone drew a very accurate caricature of Juan on the wall with a blurb, "Have you seen my vacuum?".  It's unfortunate that this type of behavior needs to end in college.

Last night was our first softball game of the year.  We won, although I have no idea what the final score was.  I don't take the games very seriously until the playoffs.  Even then, I don't take them that seriously, I just start paying attention more to things like how many outs there.

Weekend Recap

I got home Friday after work at about 6pm.  Gina walked in the door about 2 minutes after I did and snapped, "Why didn't you answer your phone?"  I did not have a good excuse except that I still had it on silent mode (from work) and soon realized that my stupidity caused her to not pickup pizza from our favorite pizza place, Pinocchio's.  "No big deal," I said.  "We can go down there now".  This would give me an opportunity to play around with my new camera that I purchased last week, my first digital SLR (Nikon D5000).  

Two minutes into our walk, it became obvious that Gina had another beef.  She informed me she couldn't find her Charlie Card which still had a balance of $50 on it.  For those of you unfamiliar with the Charlie Card, it is the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority's (MBTA) answer to subway tokens.  

You put money on the card and it is deducted every time you ride the T.  Soon after I started my new job, I realized that it was easier for me to drive to work.  At the time, I had a Charlie Card with a value of about $80.  I sold this card to Gina (we keep a running tab).  Well, due to the fact that I drop her off at work every morning now, and have saved her countless hours riding the #1 bus, she has been unable to go through the $80 .  In fact, given the fact she still has $50 on the pass, I'm calculating she's only ridden the bus about 20 times in the last 3-4 months.  Well, Gina was mad at me because she lost the card I made her buy.  Sometimes I am such an asshole.

After we got back and finished our pizza we combined all of our money, which turned out to be $6.  This would be enough to get us a large frozen yogurt from Berry Line, which opened it's second location this past week literally about a 90 second walk from us.  It has been open 5 days, and already we have been 3 times.  In fact, I'm thinking of going there as soon as I post this message.

It could be a very delicious summer.

The rest of the weekend included me running 17 miles, blowing my nose every other minute (bad allergies), walking around taking pictures with my new camera, watching SNLs latest Digital Short several times (www.nbc.com/Saturday_Night_Live/video/clips/digital-short-motherlover/1099491/), buying a cheap charcoal grill, and coming to grips with the fact that Fisher is not nearly as cute of a cat now as he was as a kitten.

Kitten

Cat