iKeepWaiting

Damn. Apple keeps coming out with new ipods faster than I can blog.

By the time I get to writing a substanial post/finally buying my iPod, I'm sure Apple will have come out with at least five new iPods...probably one that will play music, store your photos, allow you to watch videos and build your house for you.

Weak in the Red Zone

For the last 24 hours I have been a stupid girl. There are few things I hate more than being a stupid girl, so this fact is really freakin' annoying. (In case you care - A Few Things I Hate More Than Being/Seeing a Stupid Girl: 1. NY Yankees 2. Dallas Cowboys 3. the Bush Administration) I'm a stupid girl because I found myself complaining about - are you ready for this - things being awesome.

wtf?!

Several weeks ago my friend Kelly came in to town to visit and I distinctly told her that once she left, my list of priorities/needs/wants would change. The list was to be this:
1. work new job where I make lots of money
2. have sex on a regular basis
3. hang out with person (#2, probably) and do chill things like drink beer, watch football, movies, lounge around
4. make new friends at work, hang out sometimes, drink beer
5. pay off credit card bill

Within a week after Kelly's departure I had done all 5. And all 5 have held strong for a few weeks now. And then, all of a sudden, I realized I had nothing to bitch about, nothing to write about, nothing to complain about because everything is great.

I have a job where I work with cool people who like to invite me out and are loads of fun to be around. I'm finally dating someone I've had my sights on for a while now who likes to, um, lay on the couch and watch football on sundays and also has a fine appreciation for good food and wine. I have a night off where I can still go to pub quiz. I have made a new friend at work who likes to meet up randomly for a bite or a drink or a walk or whatever.

I'm making money, people like me, people have crushes on me and people want to hang out with me.

All the while I've got my sights set on my goal: New York.
And, most importantly, my secondary goal: have fun.

So tell me why, in the last 24 hours, I have freaked out when I made money, when I got a text message from a cool boy who says he hopes i have a good night and that I sleep well, when I jumpstarted my day with a pot of coffee, a boy I've liked for a while and an omelet aforementioned boy made for me.

Are things not supposed to go my way...? Is this not what I've wanted/"deserved" for months? Can things just not be genuinely, um, fantastic?

What's up with that?

So I resort to breaking out the stupid girl who needs to know the answers for everything - why things are happening, how things are happening, should things be happening at all...
and then I want to punch myself in the face for being such a moron.

So the Redskins were undefeated, the Yankees lost in round one of the post-season and Bush's approval rating is below 40%...

and I'm pretty freakin' happy.

You Got What You Needed-ish

The Yankees lost and I have nothing to say. The Yankees lost and now I have nothing to do for the rest of the month. The Yankees lost and I didn't do anything except take a sip of beer, finish of my slice of pizza and let my eyes drfit over to the Steelers/Chargers game - the thing everyone else in the bar was watching when they weren't watching the Yankees lose, like I was. I like to watch the Yankees lose and on Monday night I got my wish.

So I sat there with no one to rejoice with. I simply sent and recieved and tiny handful of text messages and watched the commercials pop on after the game. Well, shit, I thought. Now what.

You see, to me, October means one thing: baseball. Or at least that's what I thought.

"Why do you hate the Yankees so much, Alli?" my friend Doug asked me at the bar Monday night. I could have rattled off a laundry list, but instead I just said, I'm an Orioles fan, and let him turn back to his friend and their pitcher of Miller Lite and their comments that they "might have found the only person who still watches baseball," while I turned back to the TV and watched the Yankees lose alone.

The problem, I think, is that I got what I wanted and when you get what you want things get all kinds of messed up. What do you fight for? I wanted the Yankees to lose and they did and now I don't know what to do with myself.

Tuesday night I sat in pub quiz next to my dad. The White Sox/Angels game was on, and he asked me, "So.... who do we want to win in this series, Alli?" and I looked at him and he looked at me and I said, "Um... well... the White Sox, I guess...."
"Yeah," he said back to me.
"I mean, when was the last time they were in the ALCS? The Angels have been in like every other year for the last 10 years or something, right?"
"Pretty much..."
So I guess we're White Sox fans now or something because as Orioles fans and Yankees haters, that's what we're good at - rooting for the underdog.

But the thing with being a Yankee hater is that it's a much more complicated thing than just hating baseball. It's pretty much a socio-political economic thing. I mean, hating the Yankees is hating all that is wrong with the world. Just Sunday night I was explaining to my Brit that one way to hate the Yankees is because of the lack of a salary cap in baseball and how "American" that is - how they can buy the best players, create a virtual fantasy team and keep their players with them because no one else could pay them as much, and who wants to leave a bunch of winners anyway? You hate the Yankees because having life be easy for you is bullshit. You like to fight. Hating the Yankees is hating a dominant legacy, it's about being for the little guy, rooting for the underdog, it's about having hope that the little guy will win. It's about being pro-perseverance, it's about the willingness to struggle, to hurt, to be outnumbered and let down every single year, year after year.

Being a Yankees hater is one of the most passionate American things you can do.

Until, well, you get your wish.

And then all of a sudden you're not that interested in a sport that you love, the little guy became the big guy, the big guy is a little guy, your fight is over, and October might become about football season afterall.

Monday night my friend Doug asked me a question I've never been asked before. He said to me, "Alli, do you love the Orioles more than you hate the Yankees? Don't you find it a little f'ed up that you hate a team more than you love your own?"

And all of a sudden I was scared. Was I a hater? Is half of my love for baseball entirely rooted in spite, revenge, and complete and total shit talking? I think it is. Most of what I love about the sport is about bringing the big guy down.

I am a horrible, hypocritical person.

So the big guy is down now and I, and millions of other Americans, got our wish. So now we're left with some sort of empty void that arrived two weeks prematurely. The Yankees lost and, well, now what?

Go White Sox?

American Hardball

Ah, alas it is the glorious month of October! October has been my favorite month for years... the season change, leaves changing color, when we break out the sweaters and jackets, perhaps heat up some hot chocolate, sit by the television on Sunday afternoons watching football, and - above all - October is the one month when every baseball fan in the country joins together for three glorious weeks praying to God - again - that the Yankees will lose.

I love this time of year.

This October seems to be particularly glorious as I reap the benefits of all October has to offer since October was pretty lame last year in Los Angeles. On top of all the changes I listed above I can now add that I have a new job - yes, the one at That Seafood Restaurant - and in addition to a new job I would like to announce that I also have a new friend.

Yes, I have adopted a brit. He is my new friend.

I was going to write a post back in the summer (when the season was different) about how odd it is that I seem to run into Brits wherever I go. Brits in Adams Morgan, Brits in New York, Regular Brit customers who come into the Corporate Coffee Shop and order a double espresso. I love Brits, mostly because every time they speak I am reminded of my time in London. It just makes me smile.

My new Brit is also my twin. His friends call him Ali, he is my age, our birthdays are eight days apart, he wants to be an actor, he is planning to move to NYC and he really likes to "go for a pint" with his "mates." I love it! Additionally, my brit does amazing Ali G impressions which make me laugh really hard.

(Also, my Brit is an excellent addition to The Urban Achievers at Pub Quiz and promises he will become a member of the team starting next Tuesday where he can answer all those tough British questions since a) he's a Brit and b) he used to host a pub quiz in Edinbugh. How perfect!)

Anyway, this past Saturday the Brit stopped by the Corporate Coffee Shop Where I Work (he lives next door). We spent a couple hours chatting, sitting in the park, eating bagels, getting to know one another, becoming mates, and all that. We talked about family, school, travel, work, coffee, how he's adjusting to the states - all that normal stuff. Well, until the very end.

Just before we parted ways I had to stop myself. Something was missing. A topic of conversation that is usually required this time of year was not touched upon. I turned to him, "Hey, Al, are you into any American sports?"
"Well, Andy has taught me a little about American Hand Ball..."
"Hand ball...? You mean, football?"
"Yeah, but not football -"
"-right, not soccer... but, um, what about baseball?" I looked up at him, the not-so-British October sun shining around us.
"No, not so much, not really."
"OK. Hold on one second," I said, "We need to stop."
"OK..."
"Al," I went on, "This is a very important time of year, and if we're going to be friends I need you to understand what is happening during the month of October."
"OK..."
"This weekend, you see..." and I went on to explain the AL and the NL, the way the playoffs work and who was paired up to play the last weekend of regular season. "So, Al, what I need you to understand is that right now we have to be huge Cleveland fans and huge Boston fans. Whatever happens," I said rather intensely, "the Yankees must not win. Do you understand this?"
"OK, yes."
"We hate the Yankees."
"Got it."

Now I know many of you at this point might call me out on preaching - something I hate - and say that I shouldn't peg my beliefs on another person. However, I know most of you are applauding. As you should be.

Sunday night my new "mate" and I went for a few "pints" of Pilsner after work. As we sat at the bar he turned to me.
"Oh! Alli!" he said. "I was watching the news this afternoon and saw that Boston made it into the playoffs. I figured you'd be rather pleased about that."
I looked at him. "Well... Al... see, I don't like the Red Sox really, at all, actually, except for this time of year. It's not so much about them winning so much as it is about the-"
"-the Yankees losing," he interrupted.
I smiled. "I think we're gonna be good friends."


Here's to another great October!