Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
I Hate Corn Dogs
Well, this is really a special moment for anyone who follows my blog.
Why, you ask?
Any of you who have read back to my earlier entries or (hopefully) have followed me from the beginning, watched me fall in love with Disneyland corn dogs for the very first time.
Here is that entry, in case any of you want to catch up.
And it's like some asshole once said, "it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all."
"IS IT?!!" I would now challenge. "IS IT REALLY?!!"
I say this because I have just very, very quickly, fallen out of love with corn dogs.
It was a clear night. My plans were to enjoy a nice evening at Disneyland with my friend Elena.
We arrived around 5 and stayed until it closed at 8.
Getting a corn dog has now become part of my Disneyland routine, so of course, before we left for the evening, I insisted on getting one.
It tasted just as delicious as I had always remembered: deliciously crunchy on the outside, moist and inviting on the inside, all tied together with a beautiful little ribbon of ketchup I placed neatly and carefully upon each bite....
My craving having been temporarily satisfied for the night, we left Disneyland.
When I got home, I decided to call it an early evening. I sat on the couch and popped in the first season of Arrested Development, which I am watching for the first time. As I watched TV, I thought to myself, "what a lovely evening you've had."
All was right with the world.
And then...
Something was happening to me.
Something unnatural.
I quickly ran to the bathroom where I proceeded to vomit up my not-so-delicious-tasting-now corn dog.
"WHYYYYYY GOD?! WHY!!!!!?" I shouted to my cruel lord.
I sank down on the bathroom floor, defeated. And disgusted.
I thought it was over.
...I was wrong.
I spent the next 6 hours dragging myself into and out of the bathroom, coming in and out of consciousness on my bathroom floor, and vomiting up what seemed to be like 34 corn dogs rather than that single one I had actually eaten.
After a long night of physical misery, I attempted to sleep.
BUT IN VAIN. ...For it was already too late. A sleepless night was inevitable.
And so, corn dogs, I bid you adieu.
NO MORE, will you linger in my thoughts when I pass through the gates at Disneyland.
NO MORE, will I crave what I once considered to be a delicious treat.
And NO MORE, will I have nightmares like this one.
ALSO, FUCK YOU FOR RUINING EVERYTHING.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
What Happens When I Play Sports
Soooo....
...I've never been the biggest sports fan.
I liked going to baseball games with my family and even was on a soccer team when I was little, but I definitely was NOT raised/did NOT grow up to be a sports girl.
As I've gotten older, as I've been around more men, and as I've dated some of these men, I realize that there are a lot of people that are ....very.....very into sports.
This being said, I have really made an effort to at least TRY to get into them.
And by "them," I mostly mean football.
I just don't get it.
I don't get the hype.
I don't get how people can get so riled up over a game.
And I don't get what the FUCK is going on on the TV.
In the past few years I've really tried to make an effort to try to understand football.
In my attempt to do so, I have had multiple people try to explain it to me:
....obviously, to no avail.
(So keep all that in mind.)
Last summer I started playing co-ed softball.
I have never played softball in my life and I TOTALLY suck.
But it was a fun thing to look forward to every week.
Then one magical night towards the end of the season, something amazing happened.
I was playing catcher (because that's where you put the shitty person that doesn't know what the FUCK they're doing, or you can stick them in the outfield, but then oh my God what if a ball actually goes to them what then you are so screwed).
The game was off to a shitty start. I should add, that at this point in the season (the end of the season) our team had not won a SINGLE game.
Our pitcher pitched......
.......their batter swung......
......he hit the ball........
.......and that ball went straight up in the air over the foul line.
Now, for those of you who are sports-retarded like me, let me explain exactly what this means.
As a catcher, your job is to catch the ball when the batter misses and toss it back to the pitcher. Your job is ALSO to stand near home plate once the play is in motion (something I was really awesome at completely fucking not doing) in case someone needs to throw the ball to you to get out someone from the other team who is trying to run home.
IN ADDITION AND THE COOLEST AND RAREST PART ABOUT BEING THE CATCHER:
If the batter hits a foul and it goes over his head AND YOU CATCH IT, it's an "out" for your team.
SO
...The ball was up in the air...
...Time froze...
...All eyes were on me...
...Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" started playing in the background of my head...
...I ran towards the ball...
...I put my glove up...
AND I FUCKING CAUGHT THE BALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That wasn't even the end of the game, but as far as I was concerned it was because I had pretty much just won at life.
I also managed to get two RBI's that season (again, for you people who are as retarded as I am/was it means I actually hit the ball and managed to bring to players from my team home to score points for us) and we did end up winning our very last game
Where am I going with this?
The second I caught that ball and my team cheered for me, all I could think was, "Holy shit....I TOTALLY GET IT."
I get how exciting it can be.
And I plan on playing softball again next season.
Bringing it all back around, my victory has even gotten me more interested in football.
I'll be honest, I still don't know half of what the fuck is going on, but I'm getting more interested.
The other day I was at a friends house and Sunday NFL was on...
...AND I WATCHED. AND ASKED QUESTIONS.
My friend's wife was laying on the stairs in a very familiar I-couldn't-give-less-of-a-fuck-about-this-game position.
So anyway.
It looks like I am yet again, adjusting my view of things.
And while I may not be a football crazed/sports hungry woman YET, who knoooows where this journey ends.
...Don't stop....belieeeviing...
...I've never been the biggest sports fan.
I liked going to baseball games with my family and even was on a soccer team when I was little, but I definitely was NOT raised/did NOT grow up to be a sports girl.
As I've gotten older, as I've been around more men, and as I've dated some of these men, I realize that there are a lot of people that are ....very.....very into sports.
This being said, I have really made an effort to at least TRY to get into them.
And by "them," I mostly mean football.
I just don't get it.
I don't get the hype.
I don't get how people can get so riled up over a game.
And I don't get what the FUCK is going on on the TV.
In the past few years I've really tried to make an effort to try to understand football.
In my attempt to do so, I have had multiple people try to explain it to me:
EX BF 1:
EX BF 2:
STEPDAD:
EX BF 3:
....obviously, to no avail.
(So keep all that in mind.)
Last summer I started playing co-ed softball.
I have never played softball in my life and I TOTALLY suck.
I mean really...
...I just suck.
But it was a fun thing to look forward to every week.
Then one magical night towards the end of the season, something amazing happened.
I was playing catcher (because that's where you put the shitty person that doesn't know what the FUCK they're doing, or you can stick them in the outfield, but then oh my God what if a ball actually goes to them what then you are so screwed).
The game was off to a shitty start. I should add, that at this point in the season (the end of the season) our team had not won a SINGLE game.
Our pitcher pitched......
.......their batter swung......
......he hit the ball........
.......and that ball went straight up in the air over the foul line.
Now, for those of you who are sports-retarded like me, let me explain exactly what this means.
As a catcher, your job is to catch the ball when the batter misses and toss it back to the pitcher. Your job is ALSO to stand near home plate once the play is in motion (something I was really awesome at completely fucking not doing) in case someone needs to throw the ball to you to get out someone from the other team who is trying to run home.
IN ADDITION AND THE COOLEST AND RAREST PART ABOUT BEING THE CATCHER:
If the batter hits a foul and it goes over his head AND YOU CATCH IT, it's an "out" for your team.
SO
...The ball was up in the air...
...Time froze...
...All eyes were on me...
...Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" started playing in the background of my head...
...I ran towards the ball...
...I put my glove up...
AND I FUCKING CAUGHT THE BALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This is probably what ACTUALLY happened after that:
...but this is what I FELT like was happening:
(actually this is probably more accurate)
That wasn't even the end of the game, but as far as I was concerned it was because I had pretty much just won at life.
I also managed to get two RBI's that season (again, for you people who are as retarded as I am/was it means I actually hit the ball and managed to bring to players from my team home to score points for us) and we did end up winning our very last game
Where am I going with this?
The second I caught that ball and my team cheered for me, all I could think was, "Holy shit....I TOTALLY GET IT."
I get how exciting it can be.
And I plan on playing softball again next season.
Bringing it all back around, my victory has even gotten me more interested in football.
I'll be honest, I still don't know half of what the fuck is going on, but I'm getting more interested.
The other day I was at a friends house and Sunday NFL was on...
...AND I WATCHED. AND ASKED QUESTIONS.
My friend's wife was laying on the stairs in a very familiar I-couldn't-give-less-of-a-fuck-about-this-game position.
So anyway.
It looks like I am yet again, adjusting my view of things.
And while I may not be a football crazed/sports hungry woman YET, who knoooows where this journey ends.
...Don't stop....belieeeviing...
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
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