My heart WILL go on. And on. And on. Sigh. My mover looks like A-Gonz. Live Blogging my personal hell…
You get two posts today, chicas! Maybe three. Or FOUR. or FIVE. Who knows? Because I’m trying to focus on something that’s not the cry of pain from an elderly (yes elderly) mover as he heaves a sleeper sofa down a mountain path… and because I can’t listen to Celine Dion anymore. I can’t. DAMN IT, JULIE BRADY!!! In fact, maybe I’ll just LIVE BLOG my moving experience. Maybe I’ll do that. It is 9:11.
9:14. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m beautiful. And intelligent. And my personality sparkles. And anyone (bearded and awesome or otherwise) would be LUCKY to have me. I AM A TREAT, DAMNIT. A TREAT.
That’s right, Celine. My heart WILL go on. Near, far. Near, far, Youkie.
9:16. You know what I love? When Sox editorials irritate someone other than me. Here’s a great example by our friends at Over The Monster– a blog discussing how irritating Jon Heyman is.
Quick tip: anytime a sportswriter tells you that the inner workings of a front office are “obvious” without a quote (even an anonymous one), he is full of it. Actually, Heyman never quotes anyone in the entire article, which should tell you something about how well-sourced and researched his column is. In addition, anyone claiming that the Red Sox are cheaping out in their competition with the Rays, when their payroll is literally three times the Rays’… Just mind-blowing.
Brendan O’Toole, we should be friends.
WHY, YOUK? WHY?!
Here’s a good article on why 2012 might be the year to be fiscally conservative, Sox, but it’s not interesting enough to hide that growl of agony from downstairs (I think my table just gave a mover a hernia. Hernias. YOUKILIS! I’m okay. I’m okay).
Perhaps most distracting of all is a Bleacher Report opinion that A-Gonz will be 2012 MVP. Really? He Who Walks To First? (Best Native American name EVER, right?)
Gonzalez will be the one to hit 15 home runs in September and will carry the team on his back for long stretches when other players can not get their jobs done.
Really? Because I recall lots of homeruns. When they a) Didn’t matter or b) Didn’t matter.
I think I need sleep. Because my mover just looked like Gonzalez. That’s right. Shuffling down the stairs. I DIDN’T PAY YOU PEOPLE TO SHUFFLE (she said inside her head because she feared they would quit and force her to make strong friends).
9:21 a.m. You know. This is the longest I have EVER gone without coffee. Well. Um. In awhile.
9:24 a.m. “Are you aware the shade on this lamp is bent?”
“Yes. I am a reporter. I don’t have nice things.”
9:27. I am terrified of these movers. See, I kind of didn’t tell them about the long windy mountain path. Or the stairs. or the narrow doorway. Or the narrow stairs actually IN the apartment. Or that my sofas were sleepers. PLEASE don’t quit.
This move reminds me a lot of September. Except with less beer.
I mean, Chippy (I named mover four Chippy because he has a chip on his tooth) seems awful cheery…
9:29. Uhoh. Now they’re coming up here. See, when I moved that dresser in… okay… when my ex moved that dresser in, he really had to work hard to get it over the narrow stairs.
Mover 2 coughs. He shall be called Coughy. I like him. He wears hats. You know who else wears hats? Kevin Youkilis. I’m okay. I’m okay.
“I need you to do what you can do. We’ve got tape on the truck,” Coughy says to One.
Nervous. This is so much worse than September. I don’t like it when people touch my things, Soxies. I don’t like it.
Ellie is locked in the bathroom. She’s not having fun either. I can hear her. Saddest puppy in ALL the land.
It is 9:31. There is a strange noise coming from my bathroom. I think Ellie has learned to flush the toilet.
9:32. Jet Blue just unveiled that Red Sox plane. Nifty.
9:35. I can blog, have a panic attack AND work at the same time. Just scored a super high profile interview that I can’t tell you about, but let’s say it’s a great way to say bye-bye western NC…
If my heart can take it. Who knows? I think I’m having palpitations. I bet that’s a lot like a heart hernia.
9:36. I can’t believe you’re actually reading this. See, I have an excuse. I am having a full blown panic attack. Is your cubicle that boring?
I wish I had a cubicle. I would decorate it with my Disney Princess calendar and my Youk posters. Sigh.
9:41. You know who is awesome? Haiku Greg. Haiku Greg is this guy who writes haikus out of baseball news. He wrote me one today.
to find that Youk’s engagement
did not include her.
You guys NEVER write me haikus.
9:44. You know. I was supposed to be at work like 44 minutes ago. Maybe I should… um… send an e-mail.
I keep tiptoeing down the stairs to see what’s happening. I feel like a kid sneaking peeks at Christmas presents. Except instead of giving me things, they are taking them away. Coughy smells like cigarettes and he is touching my bookshelf. I am going to be shocked, honestly shocked if he can get that dresser down THOSE narrow stairs.
I wish I had coffee.
This is kind of as much fun as watching baseball. When he’s not groaning in agony. It’s definitely a team sport. There’s a pitcher. A catcher. A couple random guys. A dog barking in the bathroom…
9:48 If I enjoy 60-somethings men popping spinal discs, does that make me a bad person?
I’ll morally work that out for a moment and get back to you.
I’ve kind of missed live blogging. It’s a lot like radio, really. You feel like you’re talking to a lot of people. But you’re not. You’re soooooo not. Now he’s on the box springs. I heard a huffing noise. Hmmm.
I’m not sure if that was my dog or my mover.
I think this is a little morbid, don’t you?
9:53. This is really the most nerve-wracking thing in the world. Really. I mean, noises. Dog barking. Thuddings. No wonder I’m having a panic attack. I kind of feel like I’m hovering over myself. That was a metal sound. That didn’t sound good.
Would it be tacky for me to just leave and get coffee?
Yes, Lauren. Then they could steal your lamps. Everyone wants to steal your lamps. Everyone.
You know this guy. Coughy. You know him. Where do you know him from, Lauren? Think!
Now he’s figuring out how to get the bookshelf out the door. Isn’t this entertaining? You’re reading it, America. And, if statistics are correct, apparently quite a lot of you. Wow. I appear to be irrationally popular today. It’s the hernia references, isn’t it? YOUKILIS! I’m okay.
10 a.m. Is it really 10 a.m.? Have I really been up for like FIVE hours? Is Kevin Youkilis REALLY engaged to Tom Brady’s sister? Is Pluto REALLY not a planet? It’s okay. You can tell me.
It’s 10:05. I hear arguing outside. I bet they’re having coffee at the office. I bet they’re having coffee at the office right. now.
“My knees is burnin’,” Coughy said.
So are my ears.
I think this feeling is… guilt? Maybe? Is that what this is?
10:17. How long is this supposed to take? I thought you were supposed to be able to just load these guys up and watch ’em go?
I think I broke mover one. 10:21. I mean, He got up. But his forehead doesn’t look so good.
Maybe I recognize Coughy from a mugshot. Excuse me sir, have you ever manufactured a schedule 4?
Or maybe it’s a bar? I got to bars. I got to lots of bars. I KNOW I recognize Curly from a bar. Or something.
But you’re not interested in that.
Stupid Kevin Youkilis. You’re lighting up the Google Alerts now.
A new article out on Dice-K’s magical midseason return…
Tony Massarotten has some opinions on Josh Beckett.
Josh Beckett is missing the point, though there is the possibility that he is simply trying to avoid it. This is not about chicken. This is not about beer. This is not even about on-field failure, because the Red Sox and their followers have endured a good deal of that before, too.
What this is about, quite simply, is the seeming absence of commitment from a man whom the Red Sox once regarded as a model of dedication.
Could we just FORGET about past transgressions and move on?
Like today. I’m forgetting that crack you made about my lamp, One, and feigning genuine concern over the dent in your forehead.
It’s exactly like that. 10:29. This is still happening. I still don’t have my coffee. And this is still fricking happening.
10:37. Just had a phone interview with a relief worker in Japan. Not exactly a “can I call you back later?” situation. With thuds. And barks. And stress in the background…
I wish I could teleport to tomorrow.
10:41. I am SO late for work.
10:42- the Realization that I have SO MUCH refrigerated food. And nothing to eat it with. And no microwave.
In case you were wondering what my dog was doing in the bathroom-
She was chewing through her leash.
I have another leash.
It is in a moving truck on the way to Raleigh.
And I am late for work., And at least 20 minutes from a leash store.
I am trying to figure out what part of today doesn’t suck.
And when this panic attack will end.
Until we meet again…