RAIN DELAY THIS . . .

Boston 3, New York 2.

What a sad, sad day in da Bronx. Thankfully, we (1) were dry, sitting in the second to last row at the top of Yankee Stadium; (2) endured only two rain delays totalling about an hour and twenty-five minutes; and had left before the Yanks tanked, although I have to say that when I heard "Enter Sandman" from outside the Stadium, I had to severely resist the urge to run back in. Instead, I slumped lower and lower in the front seat of Camp Capio's non-minivan minivan as I listened to my Mo' tank the big one.

Sniff, sniff.

Also, I felt like I was cheating on Cheech tonight. I never go to a Red Sox matchup without him. But now, with him almost halfway across the country, doing something actually worthwhile with his time and money, it's not like I could have asked him to fly back for this game, right? It just wasn't the same, though. No one with whom to eat about $60 worth of food and then get nauseous. No one with whom to subsequently vow, "we are NEVER eating Cracker Jack again, after hotdogs, Italian sausages, cheese fries, peanuts, ice cream and three beers." No one with whom to argue about how Red Sox fans still are human beings, even if they are evil and misguided and simply not intelligent. No one at whom to stare, through bleary beery eyes, and declare, "Hey, you're all beery and bleary."

Sniff, sniff.

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PET PEEVESTERS . . .

I soooo dislike it when I send an objectively Very Important Email Message to someone in a position of authority who is able to address the issues contained in my Very Important Email Message, and then get no reply whatsoever. Not a "thanks, I got it." Not a "I got it but I have to think about it." Not even a "I got it and I think you're stupid for worrying about the issues contained therein." Nor a "I got it and it's too damn long for me to read in one sitting, so gimme some time."

Grrrrr. What the heck are you doing? Read the Very Important Email Message! Respond, damnit, respond! If I go nuts conjuring up all manner of scenarios and responses and reactions you might be having, it's all your fault.

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UMAMI ME . . .

Droolie. I know you're reading this. I never address my readers head-on, but I'M IN!

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IVAN-A . . .

I am truly addicted to "The Apprentice." And I am truly appalled at the behavior and silliness of some of the people on the show. These are the leaders of the future? Ay caramba.

But speak of the devil, Ivan spared the Yankee game ... and now I hear his residue pitter-pattering outside my window. This humid, sticky, gotta-take-another-shower-before-I-go-to-sleep rain is so icky. I can't wait until the weather gets a bit cool and it rains a nice cool, refreshing, throw-on-a-fleece-and-cuddle rain ...

The roads better not be flooded tomorrow. I have a Very Important Massage scheduled.