Torture

Early on Thursday evening, we went into Harry's apartment to watch the ballgame while we waited for our pizza delivery.

Harry was on his loveseat, Alex on his chair, and I was situated on the sofa. Six eyes were glued to the television screen. The Giant's scored first and we were jubilant! Harry even got into the "High Five" action! Damn, he's a smart dog!

For those of you who aren't sports minded, our San Francisco Giants are one win away from going to the World Series for the first time since 2002.

In 2002, Alex was in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia so I watched the Giant's lose the World Series alone. I was very sad to see them lose.

I was even sadder because I knew Alex would be watching the game and it would depress him too. It was bad enough that he was in the Middle East for a year's deployment but to have his beloved Giants lose a game they should have won was just a heart breaker!

Fast forward 8 years. The Giants are in the playoffs and one game away from winning the Pennant. We had the champagne chilling, the crystal flutes on the table, and our ace pitcher on the mound. Things were good until the 3rd inning. Then things turned not so good with a couple of hits and sloppy defense in the infield.

The unthinkable happened. The Phillies won the game 4 to 2.

Now the Giants must travel to the hostile territory of Philadelphia to try and win one of the next two games. Not an impossible task, but one that worries us.

Still, this torture is better when Alex is at home and not in the Saudi desert. And the champagne will just have to keep chilling. Bring me a beer, Alex.

Annual Zombie Pub Crawl

Last Saturday was the 2nd Annual Zombie Pub Crawl in my town.

My husband and I did errands in the late afternoon that included going over to check out the new "Ross" store that has come to our local shopping center.

The "Ross - Dress For Less" store is exactly like all of the others. Still, I was curious to see what it was like, expecting to be charmed or impressed or something. I was neither charmed nor impressed with the store. It was packed with people and had a line for the cashiers that stretched all the way to the back of the store.

Looking at the long lines, I couldn't help but notice that there were some very garishly made up people among the clientele. Black rings and smudges around eyes, lipstick smeared onto chins and necks, etc. I thought to myself "Queer!", and did the smart thing and got out of there.

When we were walking out, we passed a buxom young lady, dressed in black who was downright ghoulish in appearance. She had a horrid scar painted on her ample cleavage. I did a quick calendar check in my head and realized it was not Halloween yet.

It was not until the next day that a friend told me that she and her friends had attended the "2nd Annual Zombie Pub Crawl" the previous night. I've known for years that Alameda has a Vampire Bar called "Z's", but this zombie stuff is new to me. No wonder I don't go out at night.

Matters of Life and Death

Two weeks ago, it was a different world than it is today.

My friend Michael at Too Many Mornings knows that all too well. He was working and had all the stresses that ordinary life has to offer. On Friday of last week, his wife Kerry was fighting for her life for the second time in a year.

Michael and Kerry have been together since they were 18 years old. They are 50 now. Kerry has a problem with her heart and underwent heart surgery for the second time on Monday. From what I understand, she came through the surgery and now faces the recovery time after this brutal and invasive surgery.

I know that life can change in a moment, and I'm so sorry that Michael and Kerry and their family are going through this nightmare. Still, I am confident that Kerry will be fine. Why do I say this? I say this because it is unimaginable that she would not be.

When I was very young, 25 years old, my 14 month old daughter got very sick. She was diagnosed with meningitis and hospitalized. The doctors could not tell me if she would live or not. If she lived, they said she might be severely retarded or handicapped in some other ways. I did not care if she was impaired; I merely cared that she was alive.

All other concerns were a thing of the past. My daughter was my only concern. I sat in the hospital day and night and spent every moment by her crib. I saw her in that horrible "arch" where her back was bowed for days. She had tubes sticking out of her, and an IV. I was terrified.

I was unable to leave her side. The doctor finally gave me some pills and told me to go home and take them. I had not slept or rested in a full week. I went home and took the pills, and then walked back to the hospital to sit with my daughter.

I put on the face mask and the protective gown and went back into her isolation room. A man I didn't know walked in. He looked at her and told me my daughter was going to be fine. A nurse later told me that he was an eye surgeon from Switzerland and the best eye surgeon in the world.

I believed him. And he was right. My daughter was fine.

Kerry will be fine too.

Pet Peeves - Chain Letters, Long Blogs

I'm always a little "off" on Mondays.

It seems to me that if March is the cruelest month, then Monday must be the cruelest day. When I checked my email this morning, I had two chain letters.

One chain letter told me to forward a breast cancer awareness message (a photo with a pink heart) to 30 people including sending it back to the person who had sent it to me.

I like the person who sent it to me, but I'll be damned if I can figure out how sending this pink heart to 30 people will help cure breast cancer. So I didn't do it.

The other chain letter came from a friend. I looked at the inspirational message that was "nice", but totally not worth sending to a bunch of people. The people who sent on the chain letter were all rewarded with something lovely within an hour after sending it. There are always implied dire consequences for breaking the chain. Uh, no. I'm not doing that either.

Blogs that go "on and on and on" also tire me. If I wanted to read a book, I'd be reading it. Shorten these puppies up and make them a little snappier.

A blog about a 24 hour event should not take me 24 hours to read it. And it's hard to leave an intelligent comment when someone has written something so long that I'm having to skim it to just make it through.

At times, I'm sure my comment is totally inappropriate for the subject matter, but I got tired after reading for an hour and ten minutes and I just guessed what might be the right thing to say. If I got it wrong, I'm sorry.

I could go on about this subject, but this is going on a little longer than it should already.