Dear Diary . . . day by day

Wednesday October 4th - We Won!
Burning Man
Photo Gallery
2000 Man, oh, man do they need to do something about the Will Call booths at the Oakland A's game. We got there an hour early and we were still in line when the game started. The lines were huge, and it was near about impossible to figure out which line you were supposed to be in; I left David standing in a line and went up to the booths, where tiny signs told you which letter that booth was serving (David was standing in the "B" line, when we needed the "H" line instead; I'm glad we used his last name, as the "S" line was ridiculously long). I followed the "H" line back and got in line, then had to bat my eyelashes to get the guy behind me to hold my place while I fetched David; for awhile I was afraid I'd lost him, as there were 15,000 fans in those lines.
When we got in the lines were still stretching into the parking lot; we missed the top of the first inning.
Once the stands finally filled up with all those patient fans, the A's really started to shine. It was so much fun to see Yankee after Yankee take powerfully impotent swings. Heh! I jumped to my feet screaming more than once and even David, usually a mild-mannered man, was yelling right beside me. David can be hella fun at baseball games; he called Ben Grieve's first double play, telling me he's hit into the most double plays in the American League this year. The second time Grieve was at bat, the first and second base runners each stole a base, ("They're running! They're running!") seemingly preventing Grieve from hitting into another double play. However, he hit a liner to third, and the runner was gone by the time the ball was caught, and he was tagged out, making it another double play. Luckily we were up a run by then.
As usual, there was a loud boor two people down from me. We were under the upper deck, so things echoed, but this guy didn't seem to care. I've never heard anyone CLAP so loudly in my life! My left ear is deaf today from this asshole. At one point, the man in front of him turned around and said, "Hey, fellow, pace yourself, ok? You're yelling non-stop!" and almost every woman within earshot finally found her voice at once, and we all chimed in, "Yes! Please shut up! We're all going DEAF here!" Luckily he wasn't drunk or belligerent, and he turned it down - some.
I did paint an A on my face, in the same font as the one on my hat, and I got some compliments on it. I never had the balls to do anything like that in high school, and I had fun rooting for the home team last night. I also had the green and gold streamers in my ponytail, but the tights were too tight and I wore jeans instead. I would've liked to have been closer to the action, as it was too easy to turn and watch the game close-up on the monitor near us. We were so far under the overhang that we couldn't see the top of the stands where the big screens are.
On the way home on BART, a man wedged himself between David and I and started to sit down next to David in the double seat he'd gotten. David was polite, "Um, excuse me, but I'm with her." "So, stand then!" the man said, sitting down firmly. David muttered, "Fucking asshole" while I proclaimed, "whatta jerk!", and we turned around and sat across the aisle, facing him. I think David was shooting him looks, as he soon looked sheepish (our car wasn't all that crowded and no one took the seat beside him); I don't think he expected to have to look at us the whole way back. As he was getting out, he sorta waved at us, trying to make up I guess. I felt sorry for him by then (I've done that - been an asshole in public then had to face up to the fact that I had just been cruel to actual people, not some annonymous yahoo - and I know how awful I feel about myself while I sit there and feel bad). I felt sorry for him also because he was by himself, obviously having just come from the game. I'm super-sensitive about doing things by myself these days, so I feel a kindred pain for lonely people like him. I really hope he didn't feel bad for long about the BART thing.
Anyway, good game and I'm hoping we make the World Series, even if I'm going to be out of town for most of all of it (I could go to game 6 if there is one, if we could get tix). I'm thinking about working out at lunch today just so I can get home in time to watch some of tonight's game on TV. What's happening to me? I've never, ever cared about sports so much in my entire life, with the exception of high school basketball (and even then, it was a conflict, as I was a theatre/choir/band/speech team geek and wasn't supposed to have that kind of school spirit). I suppose it's nice to have somewhere to focus your energy, to shout and yell and hope your boys come in first. It really fits with fall, somehow, this sort of random solidarity. There's nothing like snuggling under a blanket in the stadium on a crisp fall night, you know?
Took that Medieval Vocation Test and here's what it said about me:
Your distinct personality, The Dreamer-Minstrel might be found in most of the thriving kingdoms of the time. You can always see the "Silver Lining" to every dark and dreary cloud. Look at the bright side is your motto and understanding why everything happens for the best is your goal. You are the positive optimist of the world who provides the hope for all humankind. There is nothing so terrible that you can not find some good within it. On the positive side, you are spontaneous, charismatic, idealistic and empathic. On the negative side, you may be a sentimental dreamer who is emotionally impractical. Interestingly, your preference is just as applicable in today's corporate kingdoms.
Exercise log:
Walking to and from BART and the game, jumping up and down yelling in excitement, that sort of thing.
Writing log:
May this little void be the source of all Heather's depression?
I'm currently reading:
Woman: An Intimate Geography by Natalie Angier
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

Previous | Next
List of Entries for this Month | Journal Index | Current Entry
Home