Today, the Red Sox fired manager Bobby Valentine following a joke of a season in which the Sox finished 69-93 - their worst record in forty-seven years. They sucked, and they sucked hard. I was in the student lounge at the time when someone turned on ESPN and the news broke and I freely admit that I shot up off the couch, arms in the air as I shouted "YES!" and did a victory dance out into the hall to call Dad.

(Luckily the rest of the lounge at the time was only lightly occupied, and most of those were 1Ls from my section, and it's common knowledge I'm from Boston.)

Watching the Red Sox this season has been nothing short of painful. They were sloppy. They were off their game. They had some moments of glory, but they weren't a team.

(And then Johnny Pesky died in mid-August and oh, God, I don't have the words to describe how hard I cried after learning the heart and soul of the organization had died. My only consolation was that Johnny was with Ted and all his other friends, and that a truly amazing game of baseball was being played somewhere on the other side of the Pearly Gates.)

Many of the problems I lay at Bobby Valentine's feet. He had no idea how to handle the players. The players didn't respect him. He made questionable, even outright idiotic, managing decisions throughout the season (including one I will get to in just a moment). He made outright rude and snide comments to players, including rookie Will Middlebrooks while Middlebrooks was in a slump.

Bobby V should have been fired at the All-Star break; maybe things could have been salvaged with someone else at the helm. My dad was of the opinion the Sox should have fired Valentine when they traded Beckett and Gonzalez to the Dodgers (and Beckett was a bad apple in the clubhouse, getting rid of HIM was definitely a good move, and I don't think Gonzalez was happy in Boston or on the East Coast period), but as I told him, there was no point: things had already spiraled so far into the basement that there wasn't a hope in hell the Sox could turn the season around even with a new manager.

Much as I missed watching NESN and Sox games with commentary by Don Orsillo and Jerry Remy when I moved to Pennsylvania, I was also relieved: I didn't have to watch the Sox slide further into the AL East basement. Were I still in New England in general, I would have felt obligated to watch, because the Sox are my boys and my team and no matter how painful, given the opportunity I will watch them play.

According to Dad, sports radio up in Boston had been pretty much solely concerned about laying bets for when the Sox would fire Valentine. General consensus had been Friday afternoon; Thursday, the day after the last game of the season, was believed to be just a little too soon.

Then last night happened.

It was the last game of the season, playing the Yankees at Yankee Stadium. The Yankees and Orioles were fighting for the division title; the Sox were firmly in last place, but they had to win to make sure that the Orioles took the division rather than the Yankees. Everyone wanted the Orioles to take the AL East, they had an amazing season and an amazing turn around and they earned it. Plus, y'know, fuck the Yankees.

Bobby fucking Valentine sent out Daisuke Matsuzaka.

He lasted two and a third, two and two-thirds innings. The Yankees spanked the Sox 14-2 and took the division. An embarrassing end to an awful season.

Like I told Dad: of course the Sox fired Valentine today, his decision ended the season for the team in complete and utter humiliation AND gave the fucking Yankees the division title on a goddamn silver platter.

As we move into the postseason, I'll be cheering for the Atlanta Braves: Chipper Jones is retiring once the season ends after nineteen years in the MLB playing for the Braves, and I can think of no better end for such an amazing and talented player than to go out with a championship ring. Next season will be the first season I won't hear the name "Chipper Jones" be brought up in baseball news; so many players I grew up watching, who defined the sport of baseball for me, are either retired or retiring and it breaks my heart. I'd like at least one to get a perfect ending.

And then once the postseason is over, the rest of the country will turn its full attention to football and basketball and hockey (once the lockout ends, anyway). The Red Sox will hire a new manager, trade away players, obtain and sign others, build the team anew. I'll spend my winter watching the trades and hoping so-and-so a player is signed (or resigned), and waiting for and dreaming of spring training, and an opening day bereft of the infectious joy of Number 6.

There is no question that this season was terrible. But the cardinal rule to remember about baseball is that, even if your team has hit rock bottom, there is always - always - next season.
I've been up since six because after a mere five hours of sleep my brain decided to yell "LET'S BE AWAKE NOW :D" at an ungodly hour, and I am bone tired after a long day and it was rainy and my jeans got soaked up to my knees and the left sleeve of my rain jacket was so saturated from water my arm was damp when I took my coat off when I finally trudged through the door at 8:30PM but fuck it all, today was glorious and wonderful and perfect.

I got to see a Sox game with my twin brother and my friends. As in, actually at Fenway. I haven't been to Fenway since I was eight or ten, but BU was offering tickets to tonight's game as part of Senior Week festivities, so weeks ago I said screw it, I'mma going to see the Sox.

I managed to snag another ticket so I could bring my bro along, but it was for standing room only on the first base pavilion and the other BU tickets (one of which was mine when I originally bought it) were for right field bleacher seats. Not too worry - as section 42 was effectively BU territory, myself, my brother, and my friends merely blithely sauntered into the section, compared tickets to see who had gotten the best row, found said row, and snagged seats a good thirty minutes before first pitch at 4:05PM.

(We were four seats down the row from the Red Seat. Score!)

It was glorious. Rainy, but glorious. My brother sat quietly for the most part - he's probably more introverted than I am, and he busy watching baseball - but did respond when I poked him to verify his status as "alive," and wasn't bothered much by the rain since he had a jacket with a proper hood. My bestie and I occasionally had to huddle under my umbrella when the misty showers turned into proper rain, but the rain let up finally at the top of the ninth, which was awesome.

I had so much fun. Again, section 42 of the right field bleachers had essentially become de facto BU territory and I saw a lot of people I knew. Smart-ass comments were thrown around a lot during the game by myself and others in the rows around us, mostly about the game itself and sometimes about the people around us.

"Beckett's ERA is going down!"
"Anything is better than his last outing."
"Looks like he's on the way to securing a shut out, anyway."
"Yeah, Beckett is, but what happens when middle relief comes in?" (This was me.)
"On the bright side, Beckett's pitch count is still low, so he might be good for seven." (Also me.)
"Let's hope."
"Is that... Is that chick getting the cops because someone's sitting in her seat?"
"Oh for the love of- we're all BU students here! PICK A SEAT, the view sucks from everywhere!"
"Hey, we've got seats at Fenway, we're not stuck behind a pillar in the grandstand or in standing room only, and we've got an unencumbered view of the whole damn park."
"The middle schoolers are trying to start a wave again."
"Oh come ON, we did two rounds of that already, no more!"

There was the first pitch by a BU student, and a moment of silence for BU students killed in an accident in New Zealand (a gesture all the attending students appreciated), and acknowledgement of the awesomeness of Tim Wakefield (with special appearance by Doug Mirabelli, woohoo!), and hotdogs and draft beer (we all turned green at the prices, but fuck it, you gotta eat a ballpark frank and a beer at Fenway at least once in your life), and the girls and I split a plate of fried dough with powdered sugar (girls need sugar, damnit), and Big Papi hit a home run into the bullpen (I GOT TO SEE DAVID ORTIZ HIT A HOMERUN AT FENWAY, HOW COOL IS THAT?!), and pretty much all the BU students did impromptu dances in our seats every time Adrian Gonzalez came to bat because his player intro song is catchy, and we sang "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" during the seventh inning stretch and then "Sweet Caroline" in the eighth, and then "Dirty Water" and "Tessie" when the Sox stomped over the Mariners 5-0, and then had Noodle Street for dinner, andandand...

And today was just perfect. There are literally no words I can fathom that can accurately describe the depths of my joy right now. I am so exhausted I can't sleep, hence why I decided to update now rather than later, but I just can't stop smiling.

Today was, unequivocally, the best day of my life.

The Red Sox.

My team. My boys. My fucking heart.

There are no words in the English dictionary or .GIFs on Tumblr that can accurately convey the complete and profound depths I have reached with my rage, my horror, and my grief.

I didn't watch the Sox collapse last September - I was too busy with school and LSAT prep to pay attention to baseball. But it was awful to read about, to see my favorites in all of baseball become an utter laughing stock. And over the winter it was hard to watch Terry Francona leave, and then see Tim Wakefield and Jason Varitek (the elder statesman and captain, respectively, and undoubtedly two great steadying influences in the clubhouse) retire. I put my faith in the team, though, that there was always next year, and that spring training would be a fresh start. I ignored the impassioned, bitter insults my dad, a Sox fan for all sixty-one years of his life, slung at the team, because someone in the family had to be the optimist.

(Optimism is most assuredly not normally My Thing, but I had to try.)

The Sox got off to a rocky start. They kicked the Rays' collective butts on Opening Day weekend, but so far it's been the only highlight to the season.

And then this past weekend. I mean... Jesus Christ.

The Sox lost 6-2 to the fucking New York Yankees on Fenway Park's one hundredth birthday. And then fucking YESTERDAY. Ahead 9-1 going into the seventh inning, and the bullpen - ONCE AGAIN - fucking collapses and the Yankees rally to win FIFTEEN TO FUCKING NINE.


The season is three weeks old and the Sox have already hit ROCK FUCKING BOTTOM. I have been a loyal fan my whole life, but I am so tempted to throw up my hands and find myself another team, if only for the sake of my blood pressure.

Seriously. There are quite literally no words that can accurately express what I'm feeling right now.

Screaming, at least, gets close.
Dear John Henry,

WHY did you try to keep him?! It's because of Epstein YOU ended up spending MILLIONS of YOUR DOLLARS on deals that went absolutely nowhere - Renteria, Lugo, Matsuzaka (FIFTY ONE MILLION JUST TO TALK TO HIM AND WHAT DID IT GET THE TEAM?! MEDIOCRITY!), JOHN FUCKING LACKEY, to name a few off the top of my head. IT'S TIME FOR NEW BLOOD, DAMNIT.

Bitterly yours,


Dear Chicago Cubs,


Fuck you and your stupid goat,


Also, I got a B+/A- on my Presidential Leadership midterm. \o/


Sep. 25th, 2011 05:28 pm
Dear Boston Red Sox,

I give up. Just end the pain already. Get some starters (AND MAYBE SOME MIDDLE FUCKING RELIEF ALREADY CHRIST ALL MIGHTY) in the off-season, find a regular shortstop, and just. I don't even know any more. Stop breaking my heart? Yeah, let's go with that.

(Should have KNOWN going 0-6 at the start of the season was an omen. Fuck it all.)

Currently pissed with you,
Red Sox are 2-8 and we lost 16-5 to the (now) 2-8 Tampa Bay Rays last night.

The Sox fanatic in me is screaming something about committing ritual suicide to regain lost honor, but I'm trying to be optimistic. We started the season 0-6, and even though no team has won the World Series after starting 0-6, no team's come back from a 0-3 deficit in the ALCS with one out remaining in Game 4 to win the ALCS and the World Series, either.

I just really, really wish pitching could get its shit together now rather than later.

In other news, I've got one page done of a 5-6 page paper about party and electoral systems that is due at 12:30 tomorrow. *facepalm* If I can keep to a rate of one page every two hours like I've been doing (as in between typing I'm frantically pawing through my notes and the readings to find some information to help me bullshit this son of a bitch), I should hopefully be done by midnight. Hopefully.

At least I'm done with that thank you letter for the scholarship the political science department dropped in my lap. (I'm not actually getting any more money, they just retroactively added it to my grant award for this school year.) I hate kissing up to the donors, but a grant's a grant, especially when it makes the resume look nice.

All right, back to bullshitting. Once this is done I can pretty much relax for the rest of the week.

Lord, I can't wait for this semester to be over.
The Boston Red Sox - my love, my boys, my team - are currently 0-6.

It is the most abysmal start since nineteen fucking forty-five. WORLD WAR TWO. WE HAVE NOT SUCKED THIS BADLY SINCE WORLD WAR GODDAMN TWO.

And tomorrow is Opening Day at Fenway Park. And not just any Opening Day, oh no. We're playing the New York Yankees.

My only consolation is that the Rays are doing just as poorly, but it's galling to know that right now the Royals, the Pirates, and and the fucking Nationals are doing better than us. FOR CHRIST'S SAKE THE GODDAMN ORIOLES ARE IN FIRST IN THE AMERICAN LEAGUE EAST AND THEY'VE SUCKED FOR YEARS.


And Lackey's on the mound tomorrow. FUCK.

I need to go curl up in a ball and cry.
Dragon Age 2 tomorrow! WOOHOO!

"Excited" doesn't even begin to cover it. I managed to finish my idle DA:O playthrough on Saturday; it is just so satisfying to slay the archdemon. Can always do an Awakening playthrough with that save later, but for now I'll be set for tomorrow. Already know I'm going to be playing a rogue Hawke, though I'm tempted to play as a mage, they're just so awesome, but I'm still trying to think up a good name for my Hawke. I take naming my characters seriously and I've been obsessing over this for a while without success, so I'm going to spend part of my evening browsing through Behind the Name again.

A bit frustrated my media and politics professor is having a review session tomorrow morning when he previously said there would be no class, but that's just yet another frustration with that class to add to the list. Going to show up, of course, but I hope it won't take the full hour and a half; tomorrow's pretty much going to be my only day to play DA2 until I go home Friday afternoon and I want to indulge in my nerdiness a little bit before I have to buckle down and study more.

Watched part of the spring training game against the Marlins on Saturday. Was... less than impressed with Daisuke. I'm not entertaining high hopes for him this season. I suppose that isn't very fair, as it's just spring training for Christ's sake, but he hasn't been very impressive for a long time. Trying to be optimistic about the team in general, though - yay we have Adrian Gonzalez! - and so long as the Sox stay healthy (and kick ass), I'll be happy.

Less than a month to go until the first Sox game of the season! YAY BASEBALL!
dt_maxwell: ([Movies] L33tness)
Back in Boston again, le sigh. Once again did no work despite my best attempts, so I'll be kicking myself in the ass throughout the week while frantically trying to catch up on the readings for my "Campaigns and Elections around the World" class.

God, did it really snow a bit this morning? The sky's so damn blue. So pretty outside right now.

But before I stick my nose into my books and read about World War I and campaign consultants in other countries and start memorizing that passage for Chinese, I'm going to gobble up all the recent articles about spring training. :D YAY BASEBALL!

I still cackle madly every time I'm reminded the Red Sox now have Carl Crawford and Adrian Gonzalez. If the team can stay healthy this season, the Sox are going to kick so much ass.
WARNING: The following post contains the rambles of semi-insane baseball fan as she waxes poetic (and snarls some obscenities) about her favorite sport. Content may not be suitable for all audiences. Viewer discretion is advised.

So I may have had too much caffeine this morning. Anyway.

As June draws closer to its end, so too does the part of the baseball season known as interleague play. American League teams are hosted by National League teams and play by NL rules (pitchers bat) and NL teams are hosted by AL teams and play by AL rules (pitchers don't bat, that's what the DH is for). So far, the Red Sox have visited the Philadelphia Phillies, hosted the Phillies and Arizona Diamondbacks, and next week will be going out to Colorado and San Francisco to play the Rockies and Giants. After the last Diamondbacks game tonight, however, the Sox have one more NL team to play against at Fenway.

The Los Angeles Dodgers.

With the Dodgers comes their manager, Joe Torre, formerly of the New York Yankees. Mr. Torre will likely receive a warm welcome in his return to Boston; he may have managed the hated Yankees, but he was a worthy adversary and well-respected, and while I can't speak for other Sox fans, I know I was outraged by the treatment Mr. Torre received from the Steinbrenners following the 2007 season. Hats off to Mr. Torre for a job well done.

It's not Joe Torre that's going to be the attraction tomorrow night, though. No, that dubious honor belongs to Manny Ramirez.

Fan favorite players have been traded away (or signed with someone else) in the past, and it'll happen again - that's how baseball works. But the fans don't generally hold that against the players and more often than not welcome them back when they return to play with a different team. After the 2006 season, Trot Nixon signed with the Cleveland Indians, and his return back to Fenway as an Indian in 2007 was greeted with a standing ovation. (I still miss Trot.) Dave Roberts, when he back to Fenway as a San Francisco Giant for inter-league play in 2007, got one too, and why not? Man won us Game 4 of the 2004 ALCS with that incredible steal, after all. Pedro Martinez got a warm welcome, and when Nomar Garciaparra finally returned in 2009 as an Oakland Athletic, nearly five years after he was traded to the Cubs in 2004, Fenway didn't sit down and stop clapping for a long, long time.

(I got a little misty-eyed when he came up to bat that first time. Some of my earliest baseball memories are of me watching the games with Dad on TV and Nomar was my favorite. For the longest time when I was a kid, Nomar was my definition of "Red Sox." It was so awesome to see him back and do his at-bat routine again.)

Red Sox fans have long memories. They don't forget what good players have done for the team. They also don't forget what players have done to break their hearts.

Johnny Damon promised he would never sign with the Yankees for any amount of money. He broke that promise after the 2005 season. While some fans welcomed him back with applause, others...didn't. The fans in the center field seats threw dollar bills onto the field near where he was playing. And while Barry Bonds has never played for the Sox, many fans hate him for using steroids, and when the Giants came to Fenway in 2007, when the fans weren't cheering for Dave Roberts, they were booing Bonds - and, in the case of the center field fans, throwing empty syringes onto the field. (Center field fans are a vindictive lot.)

Manny Ramirez was once the Red Sox top home run producer and an all-around nice guy. The fans were once willing to forgive him almost anything with the usual "Manny being Manny" excuse. We adored Manny. But Manny has long had some issues with the team, and often asked to be traded, and was especially vocal about it in the lead up to the trade deadlines in years past. But in 2008, Manny's behavior became deplorable. He got into altercations with both Kevin Youkilis (in the dugout, for Christ's sake) and traveling secretary Jack McCormick. And then in July he gave up on the team. He sat out on critical games with the Yankees, claiming problems with his knee. Team management called him on his bullshit and sent him for MRIs on both knees - there was nothing wrong. The fans finally started bellowing to trade him, after years of backing him up. Sox ownership finally traded him in a complicated three-way deal, and when Manny played for the Dodgers he actually put some fucking effort into it after slacking for the Sox the previous few months.

Manny Ramirez gave up on his team. What he did was an insult to Major League Baseball, to the Boston Red Sox, to the fans. It's been two years and I still haven't forgiven him. Los Angeles can fucking keep him.

Tomorrow night, it's not a matter of if the center field fans will throw something at Manny. It's a matter of what and how much.
So, the Red Sox.

Can't say I've been entirely happy with them this season. We've got injuries aplenty (Jacoby, nooooooooo ;_;), the start of the season was terrible, our middle relief pitching is almost non-existent, AND THE TAMPA BAY RAYS HAVE BEEN IN FIRST PLACE ALL DAMN SEASON.

(The Yankees are second. Sox were fourth for a good while but at least we've finally eeked by Toronto. But words cannot accurately convey the rage and hatred that I feel about seeing the GODDAMN TAMPA BAY DEVIL RAYS IN FIRST PLACE IN THE AL EAST.

No, I do not like the Rays. At all.

...Baltimore's not even a contender this year. Worst team in the Majors right now by a very wide margin. 17-44.

Sucks to be an Orioles fan.)

On the bright side, Jon Lester is pitching very well, as is Clay Buchholz which is a pleasant and welcome surprise, and the Sox are picking up steam as we approach the All-Star break. Last night they whooped the Phillies' asses 12-2, and did it again this afternoon 10-2.

And what a game it was today. *Cheshire cat grin*

Imagine, if you will, a young, new player, just called up Pawtucket for his Major League debut. He's from California, and apparently put on growth hormones when he was in high school because he was so damn small, and didn't so much play college ball as he did wash the team's uniforms. He was not drafted, but rather signed by the Sox out of an independent league.

Imagine being this kid stepping up to the plate for his first at-bat as a Major Leaguer in the bottom of the second inning. Imagine the bases are loaded. Imagine the Phillies pitcher throwing the ball at him.

Imagine this kid swinging, his bat connecting with the ball in a solid "crack!", and that ball sailing through the air to land in the Red Sox bullpen on the opposite end of the field.

Imagine this kid hitting a grand slam on the very first pitch of his Major League career.

I think I'm going to like this Daniel Nava.


Oct. 12th, 2009 06:30 pm
There's a certain amount of irony in eating Chinese take-out while reading the chapter in one's comparative politics textbook on Japan and watching the Thailand episode of Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations. (Well, the last isn't so weird, since my TV is perpetually turned to the Travel Channel. The first part still stands, though.)

College is being a bitch. I've got my comparative politics midterm this Thursday, which is the same day I've got a first draft of a paper due for my writing seminar. My professor in the latter likes me, though, and I'm going to e-mail him asking for a few days' extension. Doing well in Chinese and calculus, though, so I can't complain too much. I just kinda wish I knew what the fuck was going on in comparative politics. (On the bright side, everyone else is in the same boat as I am, so it's not just me who's utterly baffled about the midterm.)

Ugh. I cannot remember the last time I read a book for fun and not for class. This depresses me quite a bit. Note to self: take some time this weekend to indulge and start on The Phoenix Transformed, if only to keep from going absolutely loco. Also, drag Katie and/or Megan down to Sushi Express on Saturday (or maybe Friday evening) for lunch (or dinner if Friday).

The Sox broke my heart. I'm going to be ignoring baseball until the trade talks begin after the World Series.

Right, Japanese government. Need to finish that chapter. Can't wait to get rid of this textbook.
Today's Digger comic made me wibble. And it sent chills down my spine, too.

"Was"? Oh dear, oh dear.

And now I have to wait until Tuesday to find out more! Oh, webcomics, how you taunt me.

Right. Yes. Um.

Can't Get a Word in Edgewise will be up later today after some last-minute tweaks and edits. And after I eat a couple of bowls of Lucky Charms and maybe a bagel with cream cheese, too. Is hungry.

P.S. Because I didn't mention this yesterday: JULIO LUGO IS TRADED AND GONE! WOOHOO!



May. 7th, 2009 09:04 pm
dt_maxwell: ([Anime] Menchi Roll)
Manny Tests Positive, Suspended for 50 Games


Karma. She is a nasty, vindictive bitch, isn't she?

Also: new episode of Supernatural tonight. But also Red Sox game tonight, though Thursday is usually an off-day for them (that or Monday). So. What to watch while studying tonight...

On a similar vein, have been spending far too much time over at TV Tropes this past week. The snark! It is awesome and epic! *smishes happily*

Am very confident I did well on my public policy final yesterday. Can only hope I repeat the performance tomorrow for Campaigns & Elections. Pretty sure astronomy final will be ugly.

Siiigh. Back to studying.

EDIT 1:30 PM: Was texting with Dad re: Manny. Made the Karma comment as said above.

Dad: Is Madame Karma on one of your rings of Hell?
Me: ...Ooooh, IDEA!

Dranyari and Eitan are cowering in fear in their corner of my brain. Meet Madame K, everyone. Don't mess with her. She will fuck you up.

My daddy's an enabler. ^_^ He is awesome.
The Red Sox-Yankees game is currently on.

I've been cackling like a witch for the better part of forty minutes now.

I am more than convinced that Joba Chamberlain will throw a ball at Youkilis's head and that there will be a resulting benches-clearing-brawl because it'd be the fifth time Chamberlain pulled that shit. And if there is no brawl and/or Lester doesn't retaliate tonight, Beckett tomorrow will and there WILL be a brawl. Either way, I expect shit to go down this weekend, and it will be EPIC.

Bloodthirsty much? Oh yes.



Apr. 19th, 2009 11:06 am
So the Red Sox beat the Orioles handily last night 6-4. And the Sox winning is always awesome, right? Right.

You know what's even better than the Sox winning?

The Sox winning and the Yankees losing.

And the Yankees didn't just lose last night. They were crushed.

Last night, at the new Yankee Stadium, the New York Yankees were thoroughly beaten by the Cleveland Indians by a score of twenty-two to four. The Indians scored fourteen runs in the second inning alone. New Yankee Stadium was apparently empty halfway through the game.


Today is going to be AWESOME.
Right, so, my weekend.

Got home Friday afternoon and spent most of my first few hours home napping on the couch. I also ended up sleeping on the couch that night because my bed had already been moved down to the Cape and Billy was also home for the weekend (after a lovely carpool experience that apparently involved the brakes going dead twice, so did not get home until about 8 PM despite leaving Amherst shortly after noon), so no free beds for yours truly. Had probably the worst sleep of my life that night; threatened everyone in the house with unspeakable horrors if I had to sleep on the couch again, so Dad brought a day-bed up from the Cape for me to sleep on Saturday night. Marginally better sleep in that I didn't wake up twenty-times, but the mattress was so hard I actually missed my dorm bed and that thing's like a damn rock.

Despite awful sleeping, did have a good weekend. Went down to the Cape Saturday for the first time in a long time and was suitably horrified by the state of the book shelves. My science fiction books all over the place, mixed in with Dad's mysteries and Mom's cookbooks and a bunch of books that belonged to my paternal great-grandmother when she was a girl and there are no words to describe how utterly outraged my inner librarian was. It took my the entire afternoon to get Mom's cookbooks in some semblance of order; it's going to take a week, a step-ladder, and an Excel spreadsheet for me to get everything else fully unpacked and shelved properly.

(And how sad is it that I'm looking forward to that?)

Sunday was awesome in that we mostly lazed about and Mom whipped up a spectacular Easter dinner and I got to take a shower with constant water pressure! Most of the time I don't mind my dorm, but sonuvabitch, the water pressure sucks so hard: I either can't get wet or it feels like I'm in the crossfire of a paintball fight. I also finished up all of my financial aid crap (FAFSA, CSS/Profile, tax returns photocopied and signed and ready to mail out to the IDOC), so that's one less thing to worry about.

Got no schoolwork done, though; that I feel a little bit guilty about, especially since I have a research paper due this Friday (but I've got all my sources together, so I just have to type the damn thing). Did, however, get my lab report and pre-lab done for astronomy, and started a few of the homework questions, and did the last night lab, so other than the research paper and the last few astronomy questions I'm good for the rest of the week.

And next Monday we have OFF, YES! Thank you, Patriot's Day! I get to sleep in and then roll out of bed and watch the Boston Marathon and the Sox's usual 11 AM Patriot's Day game.

(Speaking of the Sox... Yeah, um, they're 2 and 4 and on the West Coast until Friday. I'm just going to cover my eyes until we've got more wins than losses, thanks. But on the bright side, V-Tek hasn't struck out yet this season. This gives me hope.)

Also? The BU hockey team wins the National Championship in overtime.


Aaaaand now it's time for my second nap of the day. Mm, naps...




EDIT 2: ...Did they have to use the Band of Brothers opening for Kennedy entering the stadium? I mean, I have cut back on the scathing Kennedy remarks since he had his seizure, but I still don't like the man.

On the other hand, Jim Rice rules.
dt_maxwell: ([Anime] Smiles are Free)












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