Wednesday, October 31, 2007

A Costume for a Goddess: The Reveal

Here it is:
Have I mentioned that the Marketing Deity is a Yankees fan?

The false eyelash adhesive is not for eyelashes, I used it to glue several more plastic flies to my face and neck this morning, just like Joba in game 2:
But, unlike Mr. Chamberlain, I'm carrying my own bug spray.

Happy Halloween, everybody!

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

I'm Not Going To Discuss It

"If Hunter leaves in free agency, the Twins would receive no compensation for losing one of their biggest stars and a locker room pillar who takes some of the attention away from young players like Joe Mauer and Justin Morneau.

Keeping him, however, will no doubt cost a pretty penny. And with Johan Santana set to become a free agent after next season and Morneau sure to get another big raise in arbitration, the small-market Twins have to decide who they can keep and who they have to let go."

...until whatever happens, officially happens.

To quote Batgirl, the offseason sucks.

Monday, October 29, 2007

Thursday, October 25, 2007

One Last Postseason Thought

Stupid Red Stupid Sox.

I am very, very angry at the Boston Red Sox for denying me seven more games of Grady Sizemore. Just when I was warming up to the idea of having a Cleveland boyfriend, just when I had decided that no, not the eyes, definitely that mouth is Mr. Sizemore’s most beguiling feature, just when I was beginning to feel better about how they had kicked the Twins' collective arses around all season, since they were clearly headed all the way to the World Series...

Well, you know how this ends.

It was a nice diversion. I forgot worrying about Torii Hunter going to Texas or Chicago or wherever, or Johan maybe someday becoming a You-Know-What-Kee, or what, exactly, life with the Twins’ new GM is going to be like. For a couple of weeks, I stopped asking how, how, HOW a team with an American League MVP and a Cy Young Award and an AL Batting Champion could finish the season under .500.

But I cannot root for the Red Sox and I do not care about the Colorado Rockies, so it seems that baseball is done for me until next March. Let us never speak of the 2007 season again.

And because I am a one-team goddess, I return now to being a straight-up Twins fan, wishing only strife and futility and pestilence upon the very team on whose behalf, as My Ho will confirm, just a few nights ago I was anxiously pacing my living room carpet.

That includes Mr. Sizemore, even though he is so PRETTY.
"Oh! You gods, why do you make us love your goodly gifts, and snatch them straight away?"

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

A Random Postseason Thought

Trot Nixon is very possibly the best baseball name ever.

Monday, October 15, 2007

A Costume for a Goddess

A few weeks ago, the Marketing Deity decreed that this year, all his subordinates are required to wear a Halloween costume to work on October 31.

I don’t normally dress up for the holiday, but the Marketing Deity is boss to my boss’ boss, which means I fall into the “his subordinates” category.

So, from now until Halloween, because it amuses me so, I will post photos of certain elements of the ensemble I have created for the occasion.

Hint #1:

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Making Room for Jesus

The homecoming dance was Saturday night, and the DemiGoddesses both looked appropriately sparkly and fabulous, in spite of the fact that I cruelly forced them to do housework on Saturday afternoon. This caused major dismay on the part of Demi the Younger, who voiced concern that she might "smell like bleach" at the dance. As the bathroom-cleaning she was engaged in at the time was five hours before her scheduled departure, I assured her that she would have plenty of time to take a shower and de-bleach her loveliness.

Another crisis was narrowly averted when I realized that I had absolutely no idea what to do with Demi the Elder’s hair. It’s curly, you see, which my own most definitely is not, and so the wash/volumize/blowdry routine that works so well on my head was not translating well on hers at all, and my ineptitude with a diffuser attachment soon became painfully apparent. Fortunately, my sister Molly, who is gorgeous and who has almost the exact same hair as Ms. Elder, arrived in time to save the day. A little conditioner, a little scrunch-scrunch-scrunch, and sister Betsy was ready to add the finishing touches with the curling iron. Voila!

Demi the Elder’s date was the Adorably Geeky Boyfriend (the AGB, for short), who apparently has not been to a lot of dances with girls, because when presented with the yellow rose boutonniere Ms. Elder brought for him, he tried to pin it on HER. There was no sign of a corsage. (Does this boy not have a mother?)

Grandma and grandpa, the aunts and I all fussed and admired and took pictures, and as Ms. Elder was on her way out the door, Demi the Younger reminded her sister to “make good choices” and “make room for Jesus.” This is Demi-speak for keeping enough space between oneself and one’s date to allow for the holy spirit to interpose and preserve the purity of all involved.

I have no doubt that Demi the Elder would have behaved herself at the dance anyway, but it was reassuring to know I’d have a mole in attendance who would be more than willing to report back on any Jesus-squeezing that might have been going on.

Friday, October 05, 2007

Exceptionally Awesome Boyfriendage

Not only did he show up at my house last night with a graphing calculator (only a couple of hours after being on the listening end of a highly unattractive telephone pity party inspired by DemiGoddess the Elder’s announcement that she needed a graphing calculator for math class, which happened to occur on the same day I learned my insurance company would not be bestowing me with quite as large a home repair settlement as I had been led to believe, which took place on the very same day I had just spent a not inconsiderable sum of money on contact lenses for Demi the Younger), because he just happened to have one lying around his desk at work.

Not only did he tolerate with good humor the exclamations that Demi the Younger and I made during the Cubs game regarding a certain Mr. Theodore Roosevelt Lilly (“Oooh! Look at all the CUTE!”).

But also, he remembered that today is our three-year anniversary.

Thank you, My Ho, for sharing my passion for Indian food, reality TV, independent films and Icees; for allowing me to find out for myself that Kent Hrbek is maybe a just little too big for his already sizeable britches; for being my source of understanding and wisdom during the 2007 baseball season; for making all my co-workers jealous by sending me three dozen roses at work; and for not doing anything embarrassing when we were on the Kiss Cam.

Here's hoping we can celebrate number four at an ALDS game.

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Pick a Plague, Any Plague

My Fix-it-Up Feller is putting new flooring in my sunroom today. This linoleum represents much more than just an easy-care, scratch-resistant, simulated stone tile finish with a 15-year warranty. It is the final stage of recovery from my leaky skylights problem, which I started dealing with two days less than two years ago. I know this because I blogged about it (See? Blogs are good for something!), and also because my insurance agent has reminded me multiple times that Thursday is the last day that he can pay out on my claim. With a little luck, I’ll just make it.

Here’s a play-by-play of what has happened in the months since that storm back in October 2005:

A “Preferred Service Provider” contractor guy, recommended by my insurance company, came to my house and pulled down the ruined drywall, only to find that the leaky skylights had caused quite a bit of damage. The wall and part of the ceiling and part of the subfloor would all have to be replaced, and maybe the roof, too, which the insurance company might or might not pay for. An adjustor would have to get up there to inspect the roof to be sure, but by that time, there was snow up there, and the adjustor wouldn’t be poking around on any roofs until spring. So I stapled plastic sheeting over the rotten studs and exposed insulation and waited.

In the spring, an adjustor climbed up on the roof and said that the insurance company would pay for most (but not all) of a new roof. A few weeks later I hired a roofer guy, and soon had a fresh layer of shingles, a skylight-free sunroom, and noticeably less anxiety every time it rained.

Because the sunroom is adjacent to the kitchen, I decided that when the new sunroom flooring went in, I might as well replace the flooring in the kitchen as well, so it would all match. But the kitchen was in serious need of some love, which I figured should probably happen before the new flooring. Thus, last spring’s kitchen-painting project.

Another insurance adjustor paid me a visit, inside the house this time, and said that the insurance company would not be paying for the necessary repairs to the walls and ceiling and floor, since that damage had been caused by the ongoing skylight leak and not the October storm. They would, however, pay for new drywall and new vinyl flooring. Which could not go in until the damaged walls and subfloor were replaced, at my expense. By then it was fall again.

More plastic and a long winter of angst later, in the spring I found my Fix-it-Up Feller. He repaired the walls and ceiling, replaced the drywall and installed two new sliding-glass deck doors. He also removed the giant wasp nest that had been hiding under the rotten portion of the subfloor, and magically eliminated my ant problem (Huzzah!). All this, he did for considerably less than the “Preferred Service Providers” quoted me two years ago. (“Preferred” my arse.)

Over this past summer, I painted the new walls and ceiling (because I just can’t get enough painting), installed new ceiling fan lights in the sunroom and in the kitchen (again with the matching), and then spent the last couple of weekends ripping up what was left of the vinyl flooring and the damaged underlayment from the old sunroom floor. It turns out the Goddess is a real badass with a pry bar and a hammer. Consider yourself warned.

Which, finally, brings us to today’s flooring installation. Everything that used to be in the sunroom is now in the garage or the dining room or the living room. It’s all a major mess at the moment, the worst part being that I had to dis-assemble the computer, cable modem and router, so the Goddesses are 100% offline at home today. (I hope it’s just for today.)

When this process began, my insurance company informed me that I am only allowed to file a claim once every two years. At the time that seemed very scary. But now, suddenly, I’m in the home stretch, two days away from that two-year mark.

Bring on the hail, fire, frogs and locusts.

Monday, October 01, 2007

The Party’s Over

Well, so much for that, then. Nice that my Darling Beloveds could go out with a win (at Fenway no less) but they end the season under .500, and that makes me very, very sad.

Nobody seems to be able to explain exactly what happened. The bats died, Liriano was out recovering from Tommy John surgery, and the “Piranhas” were laugably un-piranha-like. There was the hand-licking greasiness of Sidney Ponson and the futility of Ramon Ortiz. Catchers dropped right and left, the bullpen faltered, and Mi Corazón was used and abused by Cleveland again and again and again. That hurt.

Justin Morneau broke his nose and bruised a lung, Joe Mauer had a hernia, and Michael Cuddyer tried to kill himself with his own batting helmet. Mike Redmond took Jim Thome’s bat upside his head and lived to tell the tale… until a smashed-up hand finally took him out in September. I waited and hoped, hoped and waited, for a 2006-style turnaround that never materialized, and toward the end of the season, about the only thing worth talking about any more was whether or not Torii Hunter will be back. And as I’ve said, I don’t have a whole lot of patience for speculation. Terry Ryan’s announcement a couple of weeks ago was like the crappy cherry on top of a seriously crappy cake.

Which is too bad, because this year My Ho had season tickets, and we had a lot of fun getting to know the ladies in the seats next to his in the front row of section 220. We were in those very seats when My Ho and I were pictured on the Kiss Cam.

I brought DemiGoddess the Elder and a couple of her friends, including Ms. H., who has been passionately in love with Joe Mauer for a large percentage of her young life, to the game during which he was awarded his American League batting title:

And I watched Demi the Younger’s friend A. wrestle a foul ball from some twentysomething asshat who tried to take it from her (I was halfway out of my seat to intervene when the formidable Ms. A. prevailed).

I spent a glorious Fourth of July sitting in the sunshine, gazing out over the lake and listening to my Darling Beloveds win at Yankee Stadium, thanks to the miracle that is My Ho’s XM satellite radio. Even though we had to listen to the Yankees announcers call the game, their repeated mispronouncing of “Kubel” and “Guerrier” soon turned into an awesome drinking game.

There was Bat Baby’s complete game, as well as a visit from Dr. Dave, during which we caught a Royals game, just like old times. And then there was the 20th reunion party for the 1987 World Series team, where, thanks to MyHo (who knows people), I very much enjoyed some face time with Tom Brunansky, Frank Viola, Greg Gagne, Jeff Reardon, and other members of that celebrated Minnesota Twins team.

It wasn’t all bad on the field, either. Jason Tyner finally got his major league home run:

Torii Hunter, Justin Morneau and Johan were All-Stars, and Scott Baker very nearly pitched a perfect game:

And Mi Corazón’s 17-strikeout game will continue warming my heart well into this coming winter.

At least until Twins Fest, anyway.