Barb's Burblings

The shirt off his back...sort of

There's a really cute story in the South Florida Sun-Sentinel about baseball players who want each other's memorabilia. They're fans, too!

During spring training, [Dontrelle] Willis exchanged jerseys with the Orioles' Brian Roberts. He also has Marlins jerseys from former 'mates Juan Pierre, Derrek Lee and Brad Penny, and plans to ask Matt Herges for his.

"I have Johnny Damon's," said Willis, who got to know him during the World Baseball Classic. "Since the WBC we've been really cool. His wife and my girl, she took care of her and stuff. We went to his house in New York. ... Brian Roberts, I've always been a fan of how he plays the game and we get to play against them in spring training a lot. He signed a jersey because he wanted one from me."

Isn't that adorable? And he's not kidding when he says the Marlins and the O's play each other a lot during spring training. It felt like every other series was against the Marlins--and naturally the O's played them horribly. Gah.

I don't call you names!

I love iTunes, but...why does it want to play "The Bitch is Back" all the time? What are you trying to tell me, iTunes?

Sunday night log

5:50 - Arrive at Metro station
6:15 - Arrive at PetSmart to buy upholstery cleaner/cat repellant to stop Colin from peeing on the papasan cushion again
6:16 - See that PetSmart closes at 6 on Sundays
6:40 - Arrive at home
6:40 to 8 - Read newspaper; watch Baseball Tonight
8 - Sit down at computer to work on freelance assignment; turn on Emmys
8:05 - Go to Orioles Hangout to read reaction to Conine trade (very positive, unsurprisingly)
8:30 - Heat up Bagel Bites; notice that commercials are longer than 3 minutes
8:45 - Call from Steve to discuss Big Brother
8:47 - Watch Big Brother clip of Will flirting with the audience; dissolve into helpless giggles and declarations of love for Will
8:50 - My Name is Earl wins a couple of Emmys; I giggle when Greg Garcia mentions his son Camden, who I learned today was named for Camden Yards
9 - Notice that cricket seems to be in bedroom
9 to 9:15 - Locate cricket; urge Colin to get cricket; give up and use cat toy to get cricket out from under radiator; urge Colin to kill cricket; give up, trap cricket under hat, release cricket outside
9:30 - Toast bread, add peanut butter
9:40 - Declare undying love for Hugh Laurie, particularly when he's working the accent
9:45 - Steve Carell doesn't win? Booo
9:55 - See Kate Jackson in the tribute to Aaron Spelling; wish that they'd put Scarecrow & Mrs. King out on DVD already
10:05 - Put dishes in sink; consider washing them
10:06 - Colin begs for his evening snack; consider not giving it to him, due to his lack of cricket-killing
10:07 - Feed Colin anyway; it's a good thing he's so cute
10:15 - Change into pajamas
10:20 - Go to Netflix; add Bleak House
10:22 - Peruse friends' lists on Netflix
10:30 - Start cursing idiot authors in earnest
10:40 - Victor Garber presents an award! In midst of Victor Garber obsession, think that if I won an award from him, my acceptance speech would consist of gushing about him, and then I'd start talking about John Wilkes Booth and it'd be really, really bad
10:45 - Force self to go through one more document
10:50 - The Office wins! Woo! I'm happy now
10:58 - Decide to write blog entry, even though am tired and should focus on finishing editing document
11 - Switch to Orioles All-Access
11:12 - Aww, Brian's so cute
11:32 - Realize that haven't been looking for "person first" language
11:33 - E-mail documents to myself to review for "person first" language tomorrow during lunch
11:38 - Floss and brush teeth
11:45 - Bed

Victor making a bid for the boyfriend list

There are way more reasons to love Victor Garber than his portrayals of John Wilkes Booth and Jack Bristow. For example, take a look at his Pop Culture Personality Profile from this week's Entertainment Weekly:

I love his answer to the question of which famous person he befriended first ("I only befriend famous people. Don't call me if you're not famous") and the fact that he'd eat nachos to gain weight for a part. And his freak out that he's failing the test.

...And he really did used to have have hair like Art Garfunkel. Seriously. Check out this clip of him and Patrick Cassidy performing "The Ballad of Booth" at a Sondheim celebration. (Cassidy's hair is also scary.) Victor shows up at around the 2 minute mark.

I hate when the comics make me feel stupid

Recently, the comic strip Speed Bump held a "You Create the Caption!" contest. Here's one of the honorable mentions:

Is it just me? I don't really get it. If anyone cares to explain, please do.

Running commentary

Brian goes 1-4 with a leadoff single. Barb questions why in the name of all that is holy Russ Ortiz is still on the O's roster. The O's lose, 11-2.

On the positive side, I got the Melvin Mora bobblehead, and a new edition of O's Magazine was out.

Triumph of the Baby Birds

The Orioles' season was basically over months ago. Early on there was still hope that they might make .500, but that hope is gone (9 straight losing seasons, yay!). So why keep going to games?

Well, for games like last night's (which, sadly, I did not attend). It was all about the kids last night. Nick Markakis, the who absolutely stunk in April and May but has been one of the hottest hitters in the majors since June, hit three home runs. An Oriole hasn't done that since 1999. Put together, they went something like 1250 feet. The crowd went wild, to the point that he had to give a curtain call. He has hit six home runs in the last six games.

Also impressive was My Reserve Oriole Boyfriend Adam Loewen. Things looked rough for him in the first couple innings; he gave up 4 hits and 1 run. But after that...nothing. He retired 21 batters in a row. He struck out 7. Most impressive for someone who had struggled for control, he walked none. He cruised and the Twins hitters were completely baffled. He pitched 8 strong innings.

Sadly, he was followed by LaTroy Hawkins, who managed to give up 2 more runs in the 9th inning. Good thing there was another youngster to come in and get the job done--closer Chris Ray jogged in, threw three pitches and struck out Torii Hunter. It was Ray's 29th save of the season.

Any other notables? Well, my boy Brian hit a home run. He has a hitting streak at 11 games now, and that was his 4th home run in the last 8 games. It's nice to see his power stroke returning after his injury. Corey Patterson, another under-30 guy, also hit a homer.

So even though once again my boys will be watching the playoffs and World Series from their homes, there's something to draw people to the Yard. I have seen the future...and these guys are it.

John, Mike, and me

In my July book club meeting, I mentioned that I was going through a bit of a John Wilkes Booth fascination. It turns out that my friend Mike also was familiar with Assassins and the Lincoln assassination. I mentioned that I was even thinking about doing a little "Booth escape tour"--following Booth's path from Ford's Theatre to the Garrett Farm, where he died. "I'll totally go with you!" said Mike.

For the boring details, make the jump, or visit Mike's blog, where he might post his (undoubtedly well-written) version of the day...

Today was the big day. We started at Ford's Theatre, where Mike had only been once before, for a play. I think we may have rushed a bit through the museum; I realized in the middle of the ranger's presentation there that I didn't point out Booth's diary. Whoops! We did go to the presentation, even though we both knew the story (Mike read the same three books that I did--Manhunt, American Brutus, and Blood on the Moon). Particularly impressive was the speed with which the ranger sped through (understandable, given the number of small children). We dutifully trooped over to The House Where Lincoln Died (easily the best name EVER), which is fairly unimpressive, but it is good to get an idea for the place.

Then it was on to the escape route. First was the Surratt House/Tavern (which really just sneaks up on you). There was an interactive map with a very emphatic narrator ("At the river crossing, Booth gave his OWN NAME and ACTUAL DESTINATION!!!"). The docent at the tavern was absolutely fantastic. She did talk about the objects in the house, but was sure to give the history, and had no problems being gossipy about Lincoln assassination folk (i.e., the authors of the books we read). Honestly, she rocked, was knowledgeable, honest, and wasn't at all boring.

And she wasn't all brainwashed, either, which cannot be said for the docent at the Dr. Samuel A. Mudd House. Unlike at the Surratt House, Mike and I weren't the only ones on the tour--a woman and her two nephews and niece joined us. I felt a bit bad for them; the docent focused mostly on the actual objects in the room ("And that table was given by the Mudds on California") and zoomed right by a lot of history ("The letters Mudd wrote from prison..." Woman: "Mudd went to prison?"). Mike and I were fascinated at the way she glossed over any hint that Mudd was in the wrong ("He was wearing a beard and Mudd had only met Booth twice"), and her assertion stated factually that Edwin Booth was a better actor than John Wilkes.

I think it says it all that the tour is based on a book written by Booth's daughter--clearly an impartial source. Also bewildering was the docent resentfully saying that she had to be a member of the Mudd Society.

Anyway, after the tour ended (culminating in the best piece in the Mudd house, which was a sampler in the kitchen that says "Housework is a Bummer"), Mike and I hung around in the backyard, waiting for the family to come out. Once they did, we clarified a few things the docent said (she had mentioned both Powell and Spangler, not explaining either) and discussed a bit about the Mudd controversy. The woman seemed to appreciate it, and the kids seemed more interested than they had in the house itself.

Then it was on to the Garrett Farm, where Booth was tracked down, shot, and died. Well, we didn't really go to the farm, as it's no longer standing, but we did go to the marker on the side of Rt. 301 indicating the general area the house used to stand (the actual site of the house is in the middle of the large median).

The return trip was the arduous part; apparently you shouldn't try to take Rt. 301 north on a Sunday evening, because you will be trapped in traffic forever. But honestly, a lot of what made today insanely enjoyable was just getting to hang out and talk with Mike. Since we had read the same books, we could discuss them in detail. And a lot of other things--Les Mis, Mary Worth and various other comic strips, Jane Austen. Plus getting a bit stir crazy after sitting in traffic ("Seriously, we've been sitting in traffic longer than it took Booth to get from DC to here!").

Anyway, it all rocked. Next up...the Poe house in Baltimore!

A tribute

In a sad turn of events, it seems that my work crush (well...one of them) is gone. It was inevitable, really; he was a student intern. I called him "Shuttle Boy" because I only ever saw him on the shuttle to and from the Metro. He looked a bit like James Franco and once he wore glasses. There were a couple of days when, on the shuttle after work, he wore gym clothes. Sure, he's probably only 22 (note that he's a student intern, which usually means grad school), but still, he's dreamy.

Fare thee well, Shuttle Boy. You gave me motivation to go to work--I mean, heck, you made part of the commute fun!

Quickie (heh heh)

Sorry for the lack of updates--my life has been crazy busy lately. But here's a picture from when I went mini-golfing up in Mass on Saturday night. Julie edged me out for last place.

I like this picture because I look cute in it. And that's bubble gum ice cream I'm holding. Mmm, my favorite! Because, apparently, I'm 6 years old.

And here's a commercial that I like--for the Hometown Heroes baseball promotion. LOVE Honus Wagner in it. "In my day we didn't have bases; we had rocks!"

A pat on the back

Possibly the thing I am most proud of is The Gettysburgian. We won the Pacemaker for the year I was editor-in-chief, and it just blew me away. From the first issue of my freshman year (I had a movie review in it) to the last, I kept every copy. But somewhere along the way, I managed to lose the copies from my senior year. I have no idea where they went, and it was killing me. I particularly was missing the last issue, because in the last issue were the senior reflections. All of the seniors on staff wrote short articles--and there were quite a few of us in the class of 2000.

This weekend, Kathy and Robert were in town and we went up and visited Gram who, it turns out, still had a copy of that final issue, and she gave it to me. And I went to my reflection and read it and wow, it's actually pretty good. I've always liked editing more than writing; I get oddly self-conscious about my writing. But looking at it from a distance of 6 years, I really like it.

Check it out! (You need to click it to see the larger image; you should be able to read that one.)

Watch out for Mr. Darcy's lightsaber *snicker*

There was a moment a couple weeks back where I didn't have any books to read. Sure, I had some on my shelves, but they were either a) too big (I knew I had some books that would be arriving at the library soon), or b) required too much thinking (I had just finished a couple fairly heavy books). So I grabbed Pride & Prejudice. Which led to watching the movie (Colin Firth, natch). And to complete the experience...P&P as acted out by dolls. The end of the Netherfield ball is particularly amusing.

Boyfriend update

And no, it's not Brian. No no, I'm talking about Damian Lewis. Ohhh, Damian Lewis. So cute. If you haven't seen Shakespeare Re-Told: Much Ado About Nothing, you should do what you can to see it. It was a great adaptation; I'd say they even improved on the resolution to the Hero/Claudio storyline. And honestly, I could watch Damian Lewis say, "There is nothing in the world I love so well as you" (or whatever the line is; I keep getting distracted) over and over and over. (Plus, he's wears a totally hot black silk shirt. His hair is bad, but I can overlook that.) Sadly, they cut the, "Against my will, I am sent to bid you come into dinner." "...There's a double meaning in that." But that's OK. Anyway, go see it. I'm totally psyched for the upcoming episodes; next week is Macbeth, and one episode has Rufus Sewell, who is fantastic.

I think the stars are broken

My horoscope from yesterday's paper:

Scorpio

You're attractive--maybe too attractive. Someone's all-encompassing love is overwhelming. The more independence you exert, the more someone chases you. Rush toward this person and you'll get the space you need.

HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

*pause*

HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Seriously, I read this last night and am still laughing. Oh yes, that's my problem--I'm too attractive! I'm being chased by someone who's overwhelmingly in love with me! Yes yes, this is my life to a "t." It's like the horoscope writer knows me.

Quiet Friday

Since I don't really have anything worth sharing about my life or the Orioles (I'm still debating how I feel about Javy Lopez going to the Red Sox; on the one hand, good for him, he'll be getting playing time; on the other hand, ugh, the Red Sox), I thought I'd just share some links.

Defense of using the word sucks

Awesome video--Brilliant use of treadmills

Why do nutjobs manage to find you?

Why yes, it IS hot out

The heat wave bites. Everyone's miserable because they're hot and they know that their electric bills are going to be through the roof in the near future. But on the positive side, the heat wave brought us this picture:

Oh, bless you, AP photographer. I think the point was supposed to be "Gametime temperature was 102 and these guys are dying" (there was also a pic of the home plate ump cooling off); the end result is clearly worth whatever motivated the photographer. Nothing like that to perk up my evening. This was before Brian was (very subtly) thrown out of the game for arguing balls and strikes--so subtly that nobody even realized he was ejected until after the inning was over and Chris Gomez trotted out to play second.

Still, I'm happy I went to last night's game. Sure, the temp was 100, but at least the sun was down. Also, the O's managed to win.

Wake-up call

The first time my alarm goes off in the morning, Colin trots in and starts meowing, in the hope that maybe this morning--unlike every morning before it--I'll hop out of bed and feed him immediately. Usually he'll realize that no, today is not that day, and wander off until the alarm goes off again in 9 minutes. Repeat for a half hour. Sometimes he's more insistent than others; where some mornings he'll come in, look at me, and walk out fairly quickly. Those are the good mornings. Then there are the times that he jumps onto the bed, meows loudly, and sticks his face in mine. Those are not good mornings.

This morning was not a good morning. He was on the bed, meowing, tromping around. What the heck? I thought. The alarm hasn't even gone off. So I glance over to check the time, but the alarm clock is off. I'm still not entirely sure what happened; I guess in moving around last night, I knocked the plug out (the plug is kind of loose and is wedged between my bed and the wall).

I was thankful for two things: 1) I still had power; the a/c was on and I was comfy. 2) I freaked out a bit, grabbed my cell, and saw that it was only 6:15. So I am grateful to Colin for waking me up. But no, I didn't feed him then. I set my cell's alarm for 6:30 and went back to sleep until then.

Current song in my head:
"It's All For the Best" from Godspell