Monthly Archives: November 2011

It’s Raining (Not Here, In the Painting)

I was browsing poster websites this afternoon, trying to find something to fit that pesky spot on my wall next to my massive (massive, massive) Lord of the Rings poster and after browsing awesome Burton and creepily-fabulous Coraline, I found this.

I am something of a Rockwell fanatic, actually, and have an absolutely awesome big book about him with lots of wonderful prints (it’s called Norman Rockwell’s People and you should probably go buy it now) that holds a place of honor in my heart and on my shelf.  I was always partial to A Day in the Life of a Girl, Outside the Principal’s Office, Girl at the Mirror, The Marriage License, Triple Self Portrait… too many to list.  C’mon, some of you must be Norman fans too, right?

But then there are his baseball paintings.  They’re special in a unique sort of way- they always give me this feeling like, Some things never change.  The players, the fields, the umps… in a way they all sort of looked the same then as they do now.  It makes me miss baseball but also puts the seasons and the game and all that in a kind of perspective.  Without getting entirely cheesy, you know what I mean?

I am so buying this thing.  Maybe it’ll go next to Buster Posey in my kitchen.  They’d make a nice pair.  And then I could squeeze Johnny Depp’s Willy Wonka into my bedroom.  And Coraline and her button eyes may have to be relegated to the ceiling.  Whoever said interior decorating was easy…

Diamond Girl

p.s.  The Giants might trade Timmy.  Yeah.  Right.  Totally.

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This Is the Only Place I Can Really Talk

Not in a depressed, I-am-all-alone sort of way.  Just in a I-officially-lost-my-voice-about-half-an-hour-ago-and-can-only-croak-at-people-now sort of way.  So excuse me if I run on a bit here, because I figure the million-odd words that I would have said in the past thirty minutes are all mashed into this post.

I do like to talk, you know.  (Understatement of the year?  Yes.)

Anyhow!  These past week (it’s almost a week!) since the last out of the World Series has been odd.  I’ve been wearing my coziest jeans and drowning what is left of my brain in chicken soup, but I can’t fully acclimate myself to the offseason because, well, there’s baseball, still.  No small amount of it.  No small amount of Giants in it, either.

First there’s, of course, the Arizona Fall League and there’s the whole Taiwan-MLB All Stars series.  Only two, but enough to blow up my baseball news feed with scores and stats and play-by-plays.  I’m telling you, it weirds me out.

As I have said before, Gameday basically lulls me to sleep in (sometimes less than) 10 minutes, so I am relying on my baseball buddies to keep me updated on all the gossip as to Gary Brown’s virus- or was it that he was just bad?  THE DRAMA.- and Joe Panik’s… panicky ways.  Or something.

As to the Taiwan series, as much as I love Selig and his internationalism, I am having a hard time getting into it.  The All Star Game is one thing, with people from different teams on one, but a whole series?

Wish me and my tortured voice luck, please.  Or some more chicken soup broth.  Oh, yes, that sounds good.  If you’ll excuse me…

Diamond Girl

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Me and the World Series Championship Go Out To Dinner

Let me set the scene: me and my darling hubby, the Giants 2010 Championship, waltz into a snazzy restaurant to celebrate our one year anniversary.  He’s wearing a Dolce & Gabbana suit and I have a beautiful, cream-colored dress from Oscar De La Renta, plus some awesome Louboutin heels.

We order our appetizers and begin to talk.

Me:  Happy One Year Anniversary, honey!

Hubby:  Happy Anniversary to you too, love!

Me:  Can’t believe it’s been a whole year.  I mean, remember the wedding? 

Hubby:  How could I forget?  Biggest moment of my franchise history. 

Me:  Totally.  That is, biggest moment of my life.  I mean, I was so nervous, I nearly forgot my vows.

Hubby:  Or what to say in the post-game press conference.  I was all choked up.  It was bad, but great at the same time.

Me:  Uh-huh.  And all my friends and family were super-supportive, which was awesome. 

Hubby:  Yeah, I mean I couldn’t have done this without my trainers and my family and the fan—

Me:  Uh, yeah.  Right.  This is not your acceptance speech or anything, though, remember?  It was a year ago.  Already happened.

There is an awkward silence in which the waiter appears with a bottle of champagne.  He pours it into the (very snazzy) glasses and leaves, after staring down his nose at our silence for a little while.

Me (laughing):  Gotta say, though, I much prefer drinking champagne this way.  As opposed to, you know, having it sprayed all over me.

Hubby (does not look amused- says coldly)Do you?

Me (laughing trailing off):  Well, yes, actually.  You might not understand that, being a Championship and all…

Hubby:  Are you implying something about me?

Me:  No!  No!  Not at all!   Sit back down, hubby.  Cool off.  I was just saying that, you know, Championships have different preferences than humans as to how they drink their champagne.  I don’t think that’s irrational of me or offensive or anything.  It doesn’t make you worse than me or whatever.  Just… different.

Hubby:  Hmm.  Alright.  Fine.  (At this point the Championship takes out his iPhone and begins texting.)

Me:  (Rolls eyes and drums manicured fingernails on the white tablecloth.)

Hubby:  Oh, honey?   I think I have to get going.  Some other anniversary celebrations to attend.  You don’t mind, do you?

Me:  WHAT?!

Hubby:  Love you!  See you next year!

(I drum my fingers a bit more, stare at him leaving the restaurant and then order up some garlic fries and reminisce on my own.  That is, until the chef comes storming out of the kitchen, asking what I think I am implying about the restaurant by ordering garlic fries.  I seem to be offending a lot of people today.

At last, I go home and reason that really, he is a Championship and I can’t hold him responsible for his non-socially-acceptable behavior.)

Happy anniversary, y’all!

Diamond Girl

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