"HEIR APPARENT"

Tonight was pretty great.

To begin, my Dad just called from the other side of the world! I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw his cell phone number on my phone! First thing he said to me, So? Who won the ballgame? This call, of course, made me very happy. He said the large city he's been working in is a "total shithole", that the poverty was worse than he could have imagined it to be there. But, he called from an airport, as he is moving over to another smaller town tonight (well, it's tomorrow already for him) for a few days. I'll be glad to be in the same country again, but he seems to be having a good adventure, and I can't begrudge anyone that.

In pretty good news, I had a fine time at the baseball game tonight.


I wondered how it would be to go to a neutral game, and solo at that, but, you know, it was good. Irish Ho and her Dad were there, though in the swanksylvania section, so I waved at them when they decided to leave at the bottom of the 5th inning. I can't say I blame them; it was 52 degrees in Chicago tonight afterall. It was nice to just sit and enjoy baseball.

I was sitting around a bunch of dudes, and confused them completely. They kept asking when my "husband" was going to come back and fill the empty seat next to me. Yeah, right. Sorry fellas, I'm showed up alone, I'm going home alone. They didn't believe me until the 7th inning when one guy said to me, You really are here by yourself. I sat a while, then got up, came back with a soda and a giant order of nachos-- they half-kidded me that I'm too "little of a girl to eat jalapeno peppers" and so delighted in eating every last one. Is love of spicy food supposed to be masculine? Beats me. I'm all about the peppers, the hotsauce, all that. Love it.

Of course, this was a challenge, though I didn't realize it at the time. When a few of the guys around me got up and came back with nachos covered in peppers, I realized I'd thrown down a challenge without realizing it. I watched them slam beer, scoot peppers out of sight and turn bright red rather than admit it was just too warm. Haha. Sucka. That'll teach you.

On the train home, in small talk, I completely dissed a Mets fan, though I wasn't trying to. It was a long, chilly way home, but finally, I'm home, in bed, covers pulled up high, my cat curled up next to me and the space heater on. Yeah, the space heater. In June.