Into The Swim

"Honey, it's 5:30."

"Mmmmph."

"Beep beep beep."

"You know, I'm tired. I think I'm going to just sleep."

A minute passes. I tell myself it's okay to go back to sleep, I DESERVE to sleep. I can start this routine next week. Another minute passes. I think about my new suit, and how I HAD to go buy it last night so that I could get up and swim this morning. I open one eye. I think about the Tigers, and how they got up yesterday on less-than-optimal sleep and played some damn fine baseball, beating Jeter's team and evening the series. The other eye opens. I think about the commitment I had made to swim twice/week, and how failing to honor it could anger the baseball gods, causing them to turn their backs on my team. That does it.

"Aw crap, I'm awake now. Fine. Thank you. And I really mean that."

"Zzzzzzzz."

So began my day. Out of bed and to the pool, for a nice 3/4 mile swim at a decent clip with my new red suit and goggles with a strap that didn't break. I'm rediscovering my love of swimming - I'm not sure why I've waited so long to get back to it. I'm good at it, have good form, am moderately speedy. I even ended up in the fast lane today because the medium lane was crowded and very slow.

I feel virtuous and productive regardless of whatever else I do or don't accomplish today. It's all killing time anyhow with "work" and "life" (what-EVER) until 5pm when I get to spend another 3 hours of intense stress, hopefully capped off by intense joy. Go get 'em Tigers! ROWR!

Public Service Announcement: Beware the Beer

beer
Originally uploaded by monagrrl.

Ex-Representative Republican Mark Foley claims that he sends suggestive messages to young boys because he's an alcholic - the devil's liquid made him do it.

Okay, I personally have had a drink or two. I've even been... shhhh... drunk. On occasion. Maybe once. And I can assure you that having alcohol in my system did not cause me to want to diddle young boys. Or young girls. The hot guy who lived on the 2nd floor in my dorm, sure. My husband after a particularly spirited foosball game. But we were all above the legal age of consent.

I guess it just works that way for Republicans. So keep your kids away from drunk ones.

The hypocrisy is nearly too much to stand. The "family values" party that is scared of two (legally consenting) dudes kissing, turns their back and ignores it when one of their own uses their position of power to send dirty e-mail to minors. If it wasn't so utterly gross and horrible, it would be almost funny.

(This image was photoshopped by my friend Grim on my Tiger forum, and I just had to share. Brilliant, no?)

On Second Thought

Yeah, you know the whole "I don't hate Derek Jeter" thing from earlier today? Well, thanks to the ESPN pre-game-that-was-postponed-until-tomorrow show, I've moved ever so much closer to, if not hate, then an intense dislike of the man. Because there's nothing that sets one's teeth on edge like being verbally assaulted for two hours with "Dude, Derek Jeter is the AWESOMEST ballplayer - nay! - human BEING who has ever walked the face of this planet. He can hit, hit can throw, he can run and - get this - he's kind to puppies, children, and nuns."

If Jeter Christ is so damned amazing, why didn't he just snap his fingers and part the skies over Yankee Stadium so they could have played the GAME?

Things I Feel Good About Today

Okay, so the first game of the ALDS didn't go as well as I would have liked. Nate pitched a good game; not the great game we needed to win, but a good one. Still, I was impressed that our boys - coming off a disheartening end to the season and most of whom hadn't seen any postseason action - could walk into Yankee Stadium and hold their own, but for one bad inning.

Let me say it now - and I may say it again, so sue me - I despise the Yankees. Even if it wasn't us who was playing them, I would still despise them. I hate their hubris, their sense of entitlement. I hate how the national sports media fawns over them, ignoring every other team (except maybe the Red Sox)... honestly, if you weren't a Tiger fan, you might not have known WHO the Yankees were playing, if they were playing anyone or just having a little intra-squad action. And I reserve a special hate for Jason Giambi, that steroid-enhanced, greasy, disgusting representative of all that is wrong with baseball. Ick, ick, ick.

The only Yankee I can't bring myself to hate is Derek Jeter. I'm not sure why, maybe it's that he is truly a phenomenal ballplayer and seemingly decent guy. Maybe it's his appearance on SNL a few years back doing the "Derek Jeter's Taco Hole" skit, the jingle of which I still sing every time I see him. Whatever.

So back to things I feel good about. I love that I get to see my team play, that baseball is still relevant to me in October. THAT hasn't happened for a very long time. I'm feeling that good things are going to happen this week on the writing front. I feel oh-so-virtuous that I got up this morning at 5:30 and swam laps for 40 minutes - I'm going to try to do it a couple of times/week as I do love swimming. And I feel good that I'm here, blogging again. I've missed it and I'll try to do it more often in the coming weeks as KBloWriMo is just around the corner.

Best Birthday Present Ever

THE TIGERS ARE IN THE PLAYOFFS!

"They are winners now, and forever will be winners." -Jim Leyland

Good Stuff

A Morning In Autumn
by W.S. Merwin

Here late into September
I can sit with the windows
of the stone room swung open
to the plum branches still green
above the two fields bare now
fresh-plowed under the walnuts
and watch the screen of ash trees
and the river below them

and listen to the hawk's cry
over the misted valley
beyond the shoulder of woods
and to lambs in a pasture
on the slope and a chaffinch
somewhere down in the sloe hedge
and silence from the village
behind me and from the years

and can hear the light rain come
the note of each drop playing
into the stone by the sill
I come slowly to hearing
then all at once too quickly
for surprise I hear something
and think I remember it
and will know it afterward

in a few days I will be
a year older one more year
a year farther and nearer
and with no sound from there on
mute as the native country
that was never there again
now I hear walnuts falling
in the country I came to

Public Grovelling To The Forgiving and Benevolent Gods Of Baseball

Apparently in the blog post before this, when I was celebrating .500 with a little too much enthusiasm, I pissed off the Baseball Gods but good... since then, the Tigers have won only 5 games. They're now in danger of losing the division that they've led since May.

Now, I'm not sneezing at a winning season, really I'm not. We've come an incredibly long way and I'm grateful, oh-so-grateful. But... please. Please please please please please... I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Mea Culpa. Don't punish this team for my hubris... they've worked so hard. I'll be a better fan, I promise. I'll watch or listen to every game from here on out, even if we're behind by a gajillion runs, I'll hang in there 'til the end, win or lose.

The dancing Tiger has been removed and will not see the light of day unless/until the Tigers make the post-season. The author of the previous post has been sacked.

Gimme a RAWR!

The Tigers have won 81 games. There are 162 games in a season. This means, the Tigers will have, even if they win not a single one of their 36 remaining games, a .500 record.

For the first time since 1993, the Tigers are going to have a winning season.

There's only one POSSIBLE way for me to react to that.

{blatant symbol of excitement and premature celebration removed}

Nice work, boys. But... please win some more games.

Or Not

The Lady Washington
Originally uploaded by monagrrl.

So that "good sore" turned into a "strained right quad" after I pulled it doing some moving and lifting of stuff and then on Friday morphed into a "severely strained right quad" after I used it to keep myself from falling down the basement stairs when a cat in the way (HEEENRY!) made my foot slip. I'm better today, can actually walk without pain, but geez. I guess it's true, the body ain't as resilient as it used to be.

Nevertheless, there were some very nice parts to this weekend. On Saturday we took the kids to see the Lady Washington (AKA the HMS Interceptor in the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie) which was docked down on Lake Union. What a beautiful ship. Hopefully the next time she comes this way, I'll find out about it soon enough to get us signed up to actually sail on her. We were driving home from doing some errands in the afternoon and saw her out with her sails unfurled. Make me heart hurt.

I just really want to be a pirate.

But, with me gimpy leg, I'm not sure how well I'd do at the lootin' and plunderin'. Drinkin' rum, I'm sure I could handle.

Aaaarh.

But It's a Good Sore

Oh.

Oh.

I am going HURT tomorrow. Today was the big Seattle post office softball tournament and we played 4 games back-to-back-to-back-to-back. Our record for the day was 2-2. And while my fantasy of superstardom didn't play out exactly as I'd hoped, I did manage to get on base a couple of times, bat in a couple of runs, and not make any heinous fielding errors. I spent most of my time playing right field and catcher, passably. All in all, as much as I might expect since I haven't played a whole game since I was on my college Arts Chorale team. Note to self: join a softball team next season. You had a great time.

But man. The muscles are reminding me that I have been neglecting the body big-time. And tomorrow is only going to be worse.

Tigers swept the Indians - yay! A's swept the Mariners - boo!

In other news, we are once again a gender-balanced household with the return of our guys. Both had good trips and I'm in awe of the amount of progress Nathan made on his music in one week; we were treated to a concert when we picked him up, and they sounded fantabulous.