Ok, I won't say I'm in panic mode yet, but pretty dam close. The Jays dropped three games to the Tigers to open the season. The TIGERS!!! Are you kidding me? I know they have improved, but this is a team who lost 119 games last year! I know it is too early to throw in the towel, but I fear the worst. I fear the trading of Delgado, Wells, Halladay. I fear my Jays will never see the glory of the late 80s, early 90s. I fear the trades leading to the demise of what has been my favorite sports team for over 20 years. Yes, UNC had a hold on me for awhile, but that changed. I still love the Heels, but I work in college athletics. There are some other programs that are more important to me now. The Jays have been my team, and I hope I am just being over dramatic. Who knows, maybe we can shock baseball and sweep the Sox this weekend.
In the meantime, DAMN YOU Marc! Well, not damn you but ... well, you are the only Tigers fan I know. So for now, after this series, you suck.
Time for a shout out ... Big Red was my Spring Street roommate, my confidant, my friend. Living together kicked ass. We threw the most badass parties and just had a hell of a time there. One thing we used to do, and I'm sure it only made us laugh, was to sing whatever pop song was popular at the time in a British voice. I mean, anything. POD, Brittany, Vertical, Bon Jovi ... well, Red sent me a hilarious quote today:
"When I first started writing," he admits, "I didn't know how to do anything other than sing with a fake English accent. It evolved from there."
Ladies and gentlemen, that is Pete Yorn. I am thrilled to know we are in such good company.
This may be the vino talking, but who cares ...
Every time I talk to you, it is like a double edged sword, which slowly pierces my chest. Hearing your voice, seeing your name, brings this enormous smile to my face. What is it? What was that? It was this damn glimmer of hope I had in holding your hand, in tasting your lips, in caressing your head on my shoulder. You are one of an elite group. Actually, one of two. Two women who have turned my life upside down after my time with them.
But what is it about you? Is it because you turned me away? Was it because you felt like there were other things you needed in your life? Hell, it is all of it. I understand, everyday, why people need to do certain things in their life. I've made those same decisions, but there was more to it. Sitting with you, eating ice cream, watching a lightening storm. That was one of the most beautiful moments of my life that did not relate to family or my best friends.
When I speak with you, I hear Babyface singing in my head, "When will I see you again." It is a different plain, but I want to see you. I want to be around you. I want to enjoy my time with you, without distraction.
I will be stronger next time. So if you waltz into my life on your own accord, I will challenge you. I will question you. But I'll still want you. I'll still play a game, only knowing that you'll king me in the end. Is it fair? Is it safe? Is it smart? No. But I'll be damned if there isn't something that leads me to believe I'll see you again.
There is the coast, there is that state. So much you've yet to see and so much I want to show. Why don't I cave now? Why don't I beg? Oh no ... I know better. I've been through this road of being discarded before. Only once, but it was enough to remember the hurt and the feeling. I could easily beg. I could easily drive up there, grab you by the arm, kiss you and plead my case. But I'm not. I want decisions to be made by both of us. Not just justifications in my head. It will all come around again. Will I be the hand you hold? Who knows. We all will survive.
Clearly you can all see it is time for bed. Good evening.
In the meantime, DAMN YOU Marc! Well, not damn you but ... well, you are the only Tigers fan I know. So for now, after this series, you suck.
Time for a shout out ... Big Red was my Spring Street roommate, my confidant, my friend. Living together kicked ass. We threw the most badass parties and just had a hell of a time there. One thing we used to do, and I'm sure it only made us laugh, was to sing whatever pop song was popular at the time in a British voice. I mean, anything. POD, Brittany, Vertical, Bon Jovi ... well, Red sent me a hilarious quote today:
"When I first started writing," he admits, "I didn't know how to do anything other than sing with a fake English accent. It evolved from there."
Ladies and gentlemen, that is Pete Yorn. I am thrilled to know we are in such good company.
This may be the vino talking, but who cares ...
Every time I talk to you, it is like a double edged sword, which slowly pierces my chest. Hearing your voice, seeing your name, brings this enormous smile to my face. What is it? What was that? It was this damn glimmer of hope I had in holding your hand, in tasting your lips, in caressing your head on my shoulder. You are one of an elite group. Actually, one of two. Two women who have turned my life upside down after my time with them.
But what is it about you? Is it because you turned me away? Was it because you felt like there were other things you needed in your life? Hell, it is all of it. I understand, everyday, why people need to do certain things in their life. I've made those same decisions, but there was more to it. Sitting with you, eating ice cream, watching a lightening storm. That was one of the most beautiful moments of my life that did not relate to family or my best friends.
When I speak with you, I hear Babyface singing in my head, "When will I see you again." It is a different plain, but I want to see you. I want to be around you. I want to enjoy my time with you, without distraction.
I will be stronger next time. So if you waltz into my life on your own accord, I will challenge you. I will question you. But I'll still want you. I'll still play a game, only knowing that you'll king me in the end. Is it fair? Is it safe? Is it smart? No. But I'll be damned if there isn't something that leads me to believe I'll see you again.
There is the coast, there is that state. So much you've yet to see and so much I want to show. Why don't I cave now? Why don't I beg? Oh no ... I know better. I've been through this road of being discarded before. Only once, but it was enough to remember the hurt and the feeling. I could easily beg. I could easily drive up there, grab you by the arm, kiss you and plead my case. But I'm not. I want decisions to be made by both of us. Not just justifications in my head. It will all come around again. Will I be the hand you hold? Who knows. We all will survive.
Clearly you can all see it is time for bed. Good evening.
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