Friday, August 10


I am cursed. I didn't want to believe it, but it's true. I thought maybe my sports mojo was improving because, when we went bowling, I came in second behind my dad for all three games and I broke 100 twice. That never happens. If I break 100 once a year, I'm happy. Still, I love the bowling. Bygones. Because then I went to a damn baseball game. I should have known nothing good could come of it, since it was 8,000 degrees with 200% humidity. Foolishly, I thought that since my team has lost at every damn game I've gone to this year -- this includes three losses by the Sox and one by the Orioles -- that I was due one damn game to go my way. But no. Oh, no. Not only is my skin baking in the sun (despite much use of sunscreen), but now we have to go to extra innings. 11 fucking innings. And do the Reds win? Hell, no.

At least I got a cute new hat out of it. Okay, and I did get to see a bunch of former Sox players.

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