Peanuts And Cracker Jack

28 Aug


Shall we talk about how social I’ve been lately?

Can you even fathom a more exciting topic?

The thing is about me and social events is most of the time I would rather stay inside and read a book than put on pants. Most of the time if I’m moderately social for a half hour period, I’m good for weeks, maybe months.

Some people call this being lazy/antisocial/full of problems.  I call this being a “homebody.”

Doesn’t homebody sound nicer than antisocial?

IMPORTANT SIDE NOTE:  I genuinely hate wearing pants, and if it were up to me they would be done away with entirely.  I was forced to wear jeans TWICE this week and as soon as they were on I plotted ways to burn them and hide the evidence.

Hide the evidence from whom, I don’t know.  But I was pretty serious about my hatred and nothing screams serious more than hiding the charred remains of your jeans.

Where was I?

Oh yes, Social Jill.

Lately I’ve found myself going out left and right. ORGANIZING EVENTS.  Attending things I would have normally half-lied to get out of.  Social social, Social Jill.

I’m curious how long she’ll last.

I give her a week.

Plotting To Burn Her Pants Jill is already rearing her head, and frankly she’s a lot stronger and angrier than Social Jill.

In other news, I recently decided it was time for me to pick a baseball team.  Being from Utah and all, I don’t have a native roster to support so my options were wide open.

I was originally playing around with the Red Sox, because the Red Sox seem like the most romantic of all baseball teams, and isn’t baseball really the most romantic of all sports?

Every seventh inning when “Take Me Out To The Ball Game” plays I grow all romantic and emotional and say things like, “AMERICA!”  “YES” and “HOT DOG.”

I then tell everyone how one day I will have a little boy and he will go to baseball games and sing along and hold a box of Cracker Jack and that will be my crowning moment in life.

I don’t know when I became this person.

Last weekend I went to a Red Sox/Dodgers game and was forced to buy a baseball hat since I was staring right into the face of a bitter, bitter sun. As soon as I put on the blue headgear, the Red Sox dream was over.

I own Dodgers paraphernalia.  I’m a fan.  There’s no going back.

Is this how it works?  You buy a hat, proclaim your baseball team status on a blog, and then get ready to fight with internet trolls?

Bring it on, people!

Go Dodgers!

America! Yes! Hot dog!

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