The Sox are still alive.

D and I are still alive.

Neither of us has slit our wrists. My father made sure yesterday morning that neither of us had done anything that drastic after Saturday night�s game. lol That was a painful game, though. I stopped watching when it was 12-6.

Damn Yankees.

A friend of mine called on Saturday asking if D and I could be �on-call� for tonight�s game at Fenway. A friend of hers had 4 extra tickets and gave 2 to my friend and 2 to someone else. When I got the call on Saturday, the �someone else� wasn�t sure if she�d be able to go, so D and I were the backup. But, my friend told me she�d let me know either way, but I never heard from her. }:-{ I wasn�t getting my hopes up anyway, but it would�ve been nice to get the phone call she promised. Good thing I like her. I'll give her crap about it tomorrow. :-)

Still not feeling great today. On top of the coughing and sneezing I developed a sore throat today. I was on the couch most of the weekend either playing Star Wars or watching baseball. Had a cat in my lap most of the time, too. The only thing I actually accomplished over the weekend was the ironing. Ran the vacuum through, too, but just gave it a quick once over; didn�t get anal about getting into corners and stuff. Saturday morning I didn�t think I was ever going to stop coughing. D said, �I guess we�re not going to Fenway today.� I said, �Why, did you want to? I�ll suck it up and go.� He was just joking around. He�s such a brat.

I had another odd dream last night. D and I were together but for some reason I was working in Pittsfield so saw him only on the weekends. All of a sudden the guy who delivers for W.B. Mason to where I work now showed up at the new place I was working to make a delivery, told me he requested a transfer to Pittsfield because he was in love with me, wanted to be where I was and then gave me a key to his apartment. He knew I was with D but kept telling me he loved me and couldn�t live without me. I�ve no attraction whatsoever to this guy IRL, so why the dream about him? And why do I keep dreaming that men are madly in love with me. And why aren�t any of them Curt Schilling? My subconscious needs to learn to make those dreams worthwhile.

Dammit.

I'm off to watch the Sox. I leave you with these deep thoughts:

"Boston sports teams are like men in relationships:

The Patriots are like the new boyfriend that you really like - he's awesome but almost too good to be true, so you worry.

The Bruins are like the guy that you just casually dated and you don't really care about him, he's just something to do.

The Celtics are like the marriage that was great at one time but has lost its spark and you always kinda look back and think about how great it was.

And the Sox are the hard core abusive husband who just absolutely beats the shit out of you, but day after day you always go back to him cause you always believe that tomorrow will be different and you just love him too much.

Go Red Sox!"