Because my time is not devoted exclusively to grief or to cell phone customer service rage, a quick update on other recent activities:
* Bridesmaided it up at my cousin's wedding.
I'd like to send a special shout-out to my skin for--for once!--waiting until after the highly-photographed event had passed to break out. I win!
* Saw a Mets game at Shea on Cinco de Mayo. As they were playing the Braves, whom I dislike a good deal, I actually rooted for them despite my unwavering Yankee fandom. (If you've got a comment on that, save it; it's a family tradition, geographically valid, and I've never chanted "[insert other team name] Suck" so I'm not your problem.) Anywho. As though designed to challenge my stance on not leaving games early except in extreme circumstances, the game went on for 14 innings. Fourteeen. Quartorze. Quattordici. At one point the Braves pulled ahead by a run and my friend Nat said, "Well, at least it will end soon." And I said that no, the Mets would score exactly one run and then go down in order. And I was right. It's not always good to be right.
My one real complaint: why the crap won't the soda vendors at Shea let me keep my bottle cap? I'm clumsy! I need closing capability or more than carbonation will be lost!
But my whining aside, it was a very good time on a lovely day. It's always great to attend a game with people who are willing to dance along with the ballpark DJ. Pics here:
* Got a new roommate as her predecessor went to travel the world. Do you know how terrible it is to know somebody who quits her job and travels the world? It's like a human reproach.
* Further solidified my adherence to the crazy cat spinster stereotype (tell me what's wrong with being a crazy cat spinster and maybe I'll work at fighting it) by getting Spike, who freaks out in regular carriers, an Outward Hound Pet-a-Roo Front Carrier. Spike's is in fetching red. I look for him to set new standards in adorability.
This represents the tail end of another misadventure in customer service that ended with the following outburst to my sister, Jonna: "I just want a goddamn cat bag! I'm 28 years old, why is this so fucking hard?"
Jonna took pity on me and got it. She is an excellent cat aunt. And she saved me from having to have another fight, so she is an awesome sister as well.
* Been reading lots of I Blame the Patriarchy and looking back wistfully to the days when I had a brain.
Aw, you and Jonna look lovely!
Posted by: nmk at May 23, 2006 5:30 PMSpike!
Posted by: Alanna at June 17, 2006 10:38 PM