Saturday, June 21, 2014

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

I have only been to four baseball games ever.  The first, in 7th grade, a minor league field trip.  The second and third, obligatory I-go-to-school-in-Boston Red Sox games.  The fourth: the local minor league team, the Emerald's.  Do I ever pay attention? No.  Do I make sure I eat hot dogs? Yes.



The blue corn corn dog was the exact same price as my ticket, but totally worth it.  Another producer invited me to the game with her friends because she loves the Ems, and I knew from our newscast that they had started selling corn dogs at the games, so I figured it could be fun.  Our morning anchor came too -- he kept making jokes about how everyone was probably thinking how nice we were to let our dad come with us.



It did end up being pretty fun -- except for the foul balls.  We were sitting in prime territory to get smacked.  Four or five balls came at us -- I was pretty sure I was going to get hit, and end up like Drew Barrymore in Fever Pitch.

My boxes finally, finally came, so my clothes are no longer in piles on my floor.  It feels amazing to not worry that Neville is going to accidentally rip them with his claws, and that they will no longer be extremely wrinkled.  I'm very pleased with the size of my closet too -- it fits everything perfectly, with enough room to hang all my clothes and put in bookshelves for the things I like to fold.  I'll eventually show each room in detail on here for anyone who cares, aka my parents and grandma.  Hey guys!

Right now I'm drinking green tea, eating muffins that I just baked, and snuggling with Neville, a great Saturday night in my (cat lady) book. 

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