Barb’s Burblings

The Silver Slugger awards (awards for the best offensive player at each position) were announced today. Congrats to Miguel Tejada for winning one. Boos and hisses to the judges, though, for giving the one for second base to Alfonso Soriano instead of My Boyfriend Brian Roberts. Sure, Soriano had more home runs and RBIs, but Brian led in all other offensive categories–and Soriano played in a hitter’s park. Boo.
Roberts: .314 BA, .387 OBP, .515 slugging, .903 OPS
Soriano: .268 BA, .309 OBP, .512 slugging, .821 OPS
Roberts: 176 hits in 143 games - 45 doubles - 7 triples - 66 bb - 83 k
Soriano: 171 hits in 156 games - 43 doubles - 2 triples - 33 bb - 125 k
Mind you, if Brian somehow manages to beat Orlando Hudson for the Gold Glove because Brian has better batting statistics, well, I won’t complain. Because I’m hypocritical like that.
And on a Halloween-baseball-Gettysburg-related note, here’s a story ESPN did about baseball ghosts–and they went to Gettysburg to investigate stories that Eddie Plank pitches to this day. (Note: The Rochester Red Wings used to be the O’s AAA team.)
Current song in my head:
“Free Fallin’” by Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers

It’s been a thrilling week for me, let me tell you. There was…um…I sat around a lot. And slept in. We didn’t go on the cruise (which wound up sailing Wednesday-Friday, but we couldn’t get into the Miami airport until Thuesday), but I took a week of vacation anyway. It allowed me to stay up to watch the end of the epic Game Three of the World Series, which was cool. I’m very happy for the White Sox. And today has been a thrill ride of dusting and vacuuming. I made lasagna the other night. Being around this week meant I could go to tap and book club, which both were fun. …Yeah. It’s been pretty dull around here. In a good way! And I can pick up my car tomorrow morning. Seth and I have been apart for two weeks now. Two long, painful weeks. I miss you, Seth!
Current song in my head:
“Bei Mir Bist Du Schon”

I was playing around on the Internet the other day and decided to check out Head Boyfriend Michael Ball’s website. There I discovered that he is going to be in a show on Broadway, opening next month. Woo! I’ve seen him in concert a couple of times, but have yet to see him actually in a show. Woo! So naturally I have to go. I had considered seeing the show in London when I was there last year, but didn’t (Sweeney Todd won out). Anyway, I’m all over it. And there are actually reasonable seats for it, too; lowest ticket price is $25 (which is $20 less than the cheapest ticket of Evita, which I just found out will be at the Warner here in DC from December 27-January 1, like, great dates, thanks).
It also has Ron Bohmer, who I saw as Enjolras in Les Mis the first time I saw it, lo, those 11 years ago. And I got his autograph. He rocks.
Anyway. Woman in White. New York. MUST go.
In other news, with approximately 12 hours before we need to leave for the airport, my packing has consisted of pulling out my suitcase and grabbing 2 pairs of shorts, some underwear, 2 bathing suits, and my sunblock. I think I’m gonna go watch a movie now.
Current song in my head:
“New Music” from Ragtime

I’ve been anxiously tracking the path of Hurricane Wilma, as the cruise was scheduled to leave Miami on Monday. Notice the past tense there. It’s now scheduled to leave on Tuesday, shortening the cruise by a day, which bites. On the positive side, we’re getting a $125 on-board credit, which is about half of what we paid for the cruise. And that’ll be going straight to the on-board spa and/or alcohol. Woo! I’m actually kind of relieved to have that sorted out. We still need to change our flight, which luckily won’t cost us anything–American is letting people change their flights for free if they had tickets into Miami this weekend. So it’s all good. It just means that I can spend Monday bumming around the apartment and don’t have to spend tomorrow running around.
In other news, Joe Crede is so my post-season non-Oriole boyfriend. He’s kickin’ ass and takin’ names, people. Defense, offense, he’s all over it. And he wears his pants the cute way. Go ChiSox!
Current song in my head:
“We Like to Party” by the Venga Boys

So apparently somewhere along the line I missed the memo saying that it’s now socially acceptable to wear the t-shirt from a band’s current concert tour at the concert. At last night’s U2 concert, there were people wearing the Vertigo 2005 shirt everywhere. It’s a sad state of affairs, my friends.
The concert itself? Rocked, of course. I love that they don’t play the same set every night. I was a bit disappointed they didn’t play “Stuck in a Moment,” but really…that’s OK. The experience was dampened a bit by the group of drunk middle-aged women in front of us, two of whom had these horrifying “sunglasses” that lit up and blinked. I’d try to explain them more, but the thought of those sunglasses is depressing enough already. It being DC and him being Bono, there was some talk of politics; and apparently Senator Rick Santorum was there. *shudder* Ah well. They don’t disappoint, I’ll say that. And though Bono certainly is energetic, he doesn’t come anywhere near Jon Bon Jovi. I’m just sayin’.
Current song in my head:
“Elevation” by U2

I don’t know if it’s because I made it through hump day or what, but as I was driving home from tap tonight, the urge came over me: I wanted to pack for the cruise. We don’t leave for another 5 days (well, 4, I guess; 5 days from now we’ll be on the boat), but I wanted to start pulling out clothes to wear. Or maybe it was the dream I had last night about packing for the cruise. I don’t know. But I’m definitely getting excited for it. Whee!

I’d scoffed at it for quite some time. While others gushed, I rolled my eyes. Tivo? I thought. I have no need for Tivo. In the apartment, we have three VCRs. And I don’t need to give television help in monopolizing my life.
But I might have to reconsider. And what’s pushing me toward the edge? The Colbert Report. It comes on at 11:30. So if I watch it every night, that means I’m not going to sleep until midnight. I’m pushing it right now, with The Daily Show at 11. And Tivo (or a TiFaux) would just make things so much easier. I could season pass things.
Plus, Brent is trying out a Netflix-esque option. I don’t know. But I also don’t know if I can afford to cough up the $300 (or whatnot). We’ll have to see. Maybe I’ll just figure out when Comedy Central reruns TCR.
Current song in my head:
“Lucky Star” by Madonna

I must say, if you’re thinking about switching your car insurance, Erie deserves a lot of consideration. I saved a lot of money by switching to them (though I shudder to think of what my rates will be like now) and I have found the claims people to be nothing but super-nice. (So’s my agent.) Today the insurance guy came to my office to look at the car and it was all going along fine, until he looked at the radiator.
“Yeah,” I said. “When I got the estimate, the mechanic said it was dented and I’d probably need a new one.”
“Huh,” said the insurance guy. “I’m almost surprised the radiator didn’t combust.”
I’m sorry–combust? Thanks. Hello, paranoia. Fortunately, I have an appointment and Seth is going into the shop tomorrow. But let me tell you, driving out to tutor, then driving back was not fun. I was convinced the radiator was going to blow at any minute. It was clearly just biding its time.

Look, I don’t know what I did to Chuck (my Mazda) or Sam (my Honda), or even to a car in a past life, but why, why is it being taken out on my poor, poor Seth? Admittedly, this time it was my fault. This was no freak tire-careening-down-270-and-hitting-my-car accident. This was a me-rear-ending-an-SUV accident. I was trying to be good, people. My sister was visiting and we were going to Baltimore to visit my grandmother. In the rain. When we could’ve been lounging around my apartment watching Legally Blonde. Anyway, we’re about at my grandmother’s place and taking the exit ramp, which then involves a merge. Sort of–it’s one of those “blinking red” situations. Anyway. There’s this SUV in front of me and a break in the traffic and her brake light goes off, so I assume she’s merging. She’s not. I hit her. And swear loudly. We both get out, then head to the gas station that was right there (didn’t want to impede traffic much more).
The girl whose car I hit was very nice. We exchanged info. I actually hit the spare tire that was on the back of her car, and it didn’t look damaged. My hood, though…ugh. It kind of is squished up, if that makes sense. So I thought that hopefully it was just the hood that was damaged, the auto body guys could just straighten it out, and all would be good. I wouldn’t have to go through insurance and spend the next 5 years paying for an at-fault accident. Not so much. Turns out a lot of things under the hood got a bit bent out of shape. And when I say “a bit,” I mean, “to the tune of $2800.” So I called my insurance agent.
Not the best of times. Two major car repairs in 2.5 months. It just sucks, all around. So if I’m a bit cranky…that’s why. Actually, I can’t use that as an excuse. I’ve been a bit cranky since before this happened. But this is a good excuse.
Current song in my head:
“Dancing Queen” by ABBA

I just need to share that ESPN2 is now, at this moment, airing…a jump rope competition. Is this a sign of the coming apocalypse?