I Need Some Baseball Therapy. Pronto.

Allow me to rant off-topic for a moment:  under the best of circumstances, I hate haircuts.  We all have our phobias, right?  Mine is sitting in a chair with a person brandishing scissors towards my hair.  Especially unfortunate when I have paid said person to do said thing. 

When the person seems absolutely convinced that I want angled bangs when I most certainly do not want angled bangs, “hate” becomes too mild a term.  I loathe haircuts, right about then.

My male counterpart banging his head against a wall.

It took all my willpower not to jump out of the chair and brandish some scissors back at the stylist.  But since I am a (basically) non-violent person, I just closed my eyes and imagined Nelson Cruz hitting a walk-off grand slam and Adrian Beltre hitting three homers in one game.  My mildly-mutilated hair suddenly felt a whole lot better.  Until I opened my eyes and looked in the mirror.

Don’t they look menacing?

I need some baseball therapy.  Pronto. 

World Series, where are you?

Diamond Girl

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