You guys, I am TCB. OK, maybe I should be working, but I just booked appointments to use two Living Social vouchers this weekend, AND called the vet to email me my cat's food prescription, since getting to their office is a hassle. I didn't really know you could do that!
PS: I still don't care about baseball.
PS: I still don't care about baseball.
Well, you better learn to fake it if you're dating in Boston.
I need somebody to break it down much more simply. Because, sometimes the announcers are like "Wow!" about something that looks very little, if you're me. In basketball, the net helps, right?
I just tried to get my co-workers to settle something a la Thunderdome. They didn't go for it. (Boss, to me: "We can't have knife fights in the office." Me: "We can go down to the garage." Chatty: "They don't have to use knives.")
Chatty and I did get to chant "Two editors enter; one editor leaves!" So there's that.
Well, you better learn to fake it if you're dating in Boston.
And you should pretend to care about baseball too.
I was once told that I should learn to talk baseball so that one day when I marry my husband and I would have something to talk about. My answer was that I wouldn't marry someone if the only thing we had in common was sports. Turned out I was right. Of course, it also turns out that I've started to watch tennis and cycling since DH watches them. So I guess I did eventually learn a bit about sports. Just not baseball.
And again: Heh.
If you float one over the plate like that, I've got to take a swing.
One of the strongest elements tying my sister's family together is their mutual love of baseball. Her younger daughter is in Chile on exchange this semester, and is quite distraught at missing the As charge into the playoffs.