Okay. You should definitely say your prayers and pack a bag, because the Apocalypse is upon us. How do I know? Let’s take the following factors into consideration:
1) The Red Sox won the World Series…
2) …during a lunar eclipse…
3) …both of which events I watched with my boyfriend.
Let’s talk about the word “boyfriend” for a minute. I haven’t had one for about six years now, and suddenly I do. I find that I feel somewhat retarded calling him my boyfriend, though. It seems embarrassing, like when 50 year old women talk about having boyfriends. I feel like people who aren’t currently living in a dorm should get a different label to use. And bear in mind that I’m from New England, so just forget about the word “lover.” Ditto for “partner”, you goddamn hippie.
Anyway, my Friend and Traveling Companion Matthew flew up from New York yesterday afternoon to watch the game in style at my friends’ house. He kept saying that this was the game and I kept hitting him. But it was The Game, as it turns out, so now he’ll be impossible to live with.
I honestly don’t know what to say about our having won the World Series, though. I’ve written like six essays on it, and scrapped them. I don’t think it’s sunk in yet. I’m still sort of delirious and shock-y. And I will definitely have no idea what to do with myself next week.
I’ll miss the chips and dip at Isaac and Cathy’s house, that’s for sure. Do you have friends like this — grown up friends? They have nice furniture and lots of plates and things and when you come over they can actually offer you a drink instead of saying, “Um, dude, if you hang on a second while I look for my wallet, we can go around the corner and get a beer or something.” Anyway, Isaac and Cathy were responsible for feeding and housing most of our little crew for the past month, bless them. They seem to like all of us, still. Fools. Now we’ll never go away.
How many months is it til Spring Training? I need to start counting down. But first — a much needed nap.