You're not blind, so don't act like you are!

To the woman driving the 2003 Nissan Maxima on Rt. 3 South this morning: THANKS FOR ALMOST KILLING ME!!!!!! As the character Murray from the movie Clueless once said: "I swear to God. I swear to God woman. You can't drive for sh*t!"

It’s called a blinker. Use it!
It’s called a speed limit. Heed it!
It’s called a blind spot. Look for it!

Seriously, this woman almost ran me off the road this morning. There I was driving along Rt. 3 on my way to work and things were just fine. Howard Stern was blaring through my satellite radio and had me in hysterics. The sun was shining. The weather was warming. I had my Dunkin Donuts iced coffee in hand. In short, it was an enjoyable ride…

…That is, until I took a glance at my rearview mirror and saw a speeding Maxima closing in on me. The driver, who I could see was a woman, had slowed down just a few yards before my car and proceeded to drive up my ass for a good mile and a half. (Now, I’m not one to talk about ass-riders because I am one myself, but this woman was ridiculous).

She must have had the music blaring because she appeared to be singing. She was apparently trying to dance in the car and was swerving the wheel with every move, causing her car to weave side to side. Then I look up and she’s got her arm outstretched through her moon-roof, pumping her fist rock-style.

I start thinking I really don’t want to be around this driver anymore and motion to switch lanes to let her pass, even though I couldn’t understand why she needed to go faster than 75 on a fairly congested highway. Oh, but I guess I wasn’t quick enough because as soon as my blinker went on, she was already two lanes away in the far right lane trying to pass everyone. She was slowed by a huge cement truck and slid back into the middle lane, now slightly ahead of me, still in the left lane. She was stuck behind another "slow" car and started moving into my lane!! I must have been in her blind spot because I was almost directly beside her when she moved. I swerve to the left, just inches from the barrier, and blare my horn loudly while shouting "What the f*ck are you doing?!" She fearfully swerves back into her lane and then to the far right lane to avoid being next to me when I passed her. Too bad because I DEFINITELY wanted to flip her off and cuss at her, even though she wouldn’t have been able to hear me through our closed windows!! (Don’t you just love doing that?).

Anyway, I nearly had a heart-attack and it took me a good 10 minutes to calm back down. It’s such a scary situation. It only lasted a split-second, but it was enough to put the fear of God into me thinking about what could have happened. But alas, I am alive and well…and only slightly hungover from a night of boozing and singing karaoke. Someone’s watching out for me today!

Sox Game 3, other tid-bits

So game Sox Game 3 of the week was a success…beer-wise, of course. I got the head’s up from Phil again, so all my worrying about my tipping seemed unwarranted. Brilliant!!

The game was a good time, even though we lost. My friend Mark and I sat behind some very nice young ladies (oh gosh, did I just use that phrase?) from a college in Maine. Ashley and Liz came adorned in T-shirts they had painted themselves that said "Our Sox are Red, Our Hats are Blue, We Hate the Yankees, but we Love You" (meaning the Sox, of course). It was very clever and much appreciated, especially with me being an experienced Sox shirt-maker myself.

It was the close game until the late innings, when relief pitcher Julian Tavarez (whom I like to refer to as "head-case") gave up a pair of runs to make it 5-1 in the eighth. (This is the same guy who punched a bullpen phone as a St. Louis Cardinal in 2004 and was out for weeks and got into a fistfight with a Tampa Bay player during Spring Training with the Red Sox in March. In short, he’s a freakin’ head case and I let him know every time he pitches!!).

Sox had a chance to rally in the ninth, but my boy Trot Nixon struck out with the bases loaded. Oh well. Win some lose some. The loss brought my games attended record to 3-1 on the season. Not a bad start.
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Saw Beth and baby Taylor yesterday. She’s sweeter than ever, opening her eyes and looking around. An absolute cutie!! Beth is doing quite well too. She’s not sleeping much, as to be expected, but she’s moving around a lot better. Two weeks ago, the poor thing looked like an 80-year-old when trying to climb the stairs.
Think she’s coming by for a visit to the old Southie pad Wednesday, so I’m looking forward to that.
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So after a week of craziness, I’m pretty much doing nothing this week. Sox are on the road and I’m working Friday night and Saturday night. May try to rally some troops to go out Thursday night. We’ll see. Have a great week.

Beer Mission Accomplished. Game 2.

Oh my God!! You guys, I have officially mastered the Fenway Park experience!! Last night was indeed a momentous evening at America’s most beloved ballpark. After two years of going to the same Miller Lite stand and seeing the same Miller Lite guy, I finally was offered the hook up!!

Here’s the back story: The Bleachers are pretty much the only area of the ballpark where everyday schmos like myself can get tickets. They’re the cheapest, but it just so happens that they are the most fun seats in the stadium as well. Drunks everywhere you turn, sharing knowledge about the game, and basically having a grand old time.

Needless to say, there is a wide variety of beers from which to choose. For the last two years, I’ve been drinking only Miller Lite. At this stand, I always saw the same people: Tall, dark-haired man on the right; short, blonde woman in the middle; tall, brunette woman on the left. One day last year, I finally struck up a conversation with the guy (who I now know is Phil). I mentioned how great it was to see the same faces every year. Kind of a creature comfort. Phil got my name and we’d been friendly ever since.

Now, usually when I go to Sox games, I get loaded beforehand at the Cask (because let’s face it, the beer’s a heck of a lot cheaper there, especially when you know the entire bar staff). Once inside the park, I’d go to Phil, say my hello’s, get my two beers and never go back.

I saw Phil on Opening Day (for my two-beer standard) and told him I’d be at three games the next week. Tuesday night, I made my first stop and he had a line, prompting the blonde to call me over to her. Phil joked about how I was his regular and how she was stealing me…Yada, yada. Anyway, I only got one beer at a time on this night because I was going to be pretty busy at work Wednesday. I went down for another halfway through the game and this time, got it from Phil. He gave me crap for not drinking much and I assured him it would be a different story when I came back Wednesday night.

Flash forward to last night. I approach the Miller Lite stand and get a wonderful greeting from both Phil and the blonde (still didn’t get her name), who both welcome me by name and say it’s nice to see me. Phil pours me two beers this time, I drop my typical $2 tip and he says, "Why don’t you bring those cups back when you’re finished." OH MY GOD!! This was it!! I was officially getting hooked up. I had heard from people that if you brought your cups back (because the vendors count them), beer guys would hook you up, but I didn’t want to assume anything with Phil. I figured, if he wanted to hook me up, he would give me the sign. And he finally did last night!!

So, after almost peeing myself with excitement, I go up to my seats in the Bleachers and share the news with my Mom, who promptly calls me a "biotch." I explained to her that the hook up is two years in the making and totally deserved.

Around the fourth inning (because yes, I drink draft beer that slowly), I go back down to Phil, slide my empty cups across the bar and he pours me two more beers. He hands them over and says "you do what you want to do," of course in reference to a tip. Now, I generally leave $2 on the $13 beers. I threw down a $5, he thanked me and I was on my way. I had just got my first free beers at Fenway!!

Then, freaking panic set in. Was $5 enough? Was he expecting $10? I know he said thank you, but was it a sarcastic thank you or was he actually grateful? I decided to throw down another $5 before I left, whether I got a beer or not. I did, around the sixth, get one more beer and toss another $5. He seemed very appreciative, but I couldn’t help but feel paranoid.

We’ll see when I go back tonight for Game 3 of the week. As a bartender myself, I hate when people ask me if their tip was good enough. What am I really going to say if it isn’t? No, your tip is horrible?? I’ve asked around and my friends all seem to think the $5 is enough. If he knows I’m going to leave $5 every time I get a beer, I think I’ll be okay. What do you guys think?
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Oh yeah. Game was good too!! Schilling recorded win No. 4 and the Sox have won four-straight to improve to a MLB best 11-4. Wakefield is on the mound tonight. Let’s hope we can keep the streak going!! Go Sox.

And, I didn't wear the same outfit as the night before becasue it ended up being a lot warmer than anticipated. It's going to be another beauty tonight so I think I'm rocking my Nixon jersey.

My Sox week-long adventure. Game 1.

What’s better than going to one Sox game this week? How about three…in a row. Oh yeah, I’m the lucky girl who gets to see the entire three-game Tampa Bay series this week and I couldn’t be happier. Sure it’s April and the weather isn’t exactly ideal, but it’s the Red Sox, it’s Fenway Park, and it’s me in the bleachers three nights in a row!! Sucks to be me this week, I say sarcastically, of course.

Anyway, Game one was last night and it went swimmingly. I went with two of the girls I was out with on Opening Day, exactly one week earlier. Heather bought the tickets and invited Amy, me, and their friend Lindsay along.
Weather conditions: Overcast and cool, but not raining. Highs in the low 50s.

Corresponding attire: I opted to go with a long sleeved white undershirt with my navy blue #34 David Ortiz T-shirt over it. On top of that, I wore a fitted gray pullover fleece with my cream down Gap vest and Red Sox scarf. Of course, I wore my navy Sox hat as well.

With the weather looking to be about the same tonight, I might…eeeeeek…wear almost the same thing, except for the under attire. I’m fully aware it’s a fashion faux-pa to be seen in the same place with the same attire two nights in a row, but I was really comfortable in it and think that’s the more important factor. Don’t throw stones, ladies because you all know you’ve done the same thing before. Anyway, I figure the only people I’m going to see are my Miller Lite guy, Phil, who’s a guy and probably won’t even notice, the staff at the Cask—who only saw me in my long and short-sleeved T-shirt last night, and a few other loyal fans who are going to their second game of the week who’s opinions I could care less about. There. It’s decided. I’m doing it.

Game was a blast and so far I’m 2-0 in games attended. Nice start. Some of my favorite parts?
* Interacting with the extremely drunk guy in the row in front of us. He couldn’t have been much older than 22, but he was absolutely hysterical. And what’s more important, is he found me hysterical two. I kept calling him my partner in crime. Towards the end of the night, he got a little annoying because he was TOO drunk, but oh well. We’ve all been there.

* Seeing the Sox hit in the clutch not once, not twice, but three times. It was simply glorious.

* Watching our new closer Jonathan Papelbon become a star. The two-year major league player is quickly becoming a celebrity after recording his seventh save in as many attempts last night. There was actually an article in the paper today polling fans on what music they think Papelbon should come out of the bullpen to. He had been exiting to "Bodies" by Drowning Pool, but switched it up to a wrestlers theme music last night. My brother, who I called upon hearing the music, said it was likely the Ultimate Warriors’ theme. He should know. He was the biggest freakin’ WWF fan growing up. (Scary, I know, but it’s times like these when his knowledge of this subject comes in quite handy).

Well, I’m off…to another Sox game that is! Ha!! Don’t hate!! (Okay, you can go ahead and hate me. I would hate you if it were you, so it’s only fair). Schilling’s on the hill tonight!! Woohoo. Go Sox!!

Apologies in advance to MG, who will have little to no idea what this post is all about. I still love you, though!!

Red Sox Opening Day. Simply the best day of the year.

Oh glorious Red Sox Opening Day!! I’ll tell you, I could think of no better way to spend a beautiful Tuesday afternoon than at Fenway Park watching the Sox. I haven’t missed an Opening Day in six years. Generally, I go in town just to hang out and be part of the scene, but this year, I had tickets to the game.

As I mentioned in my previous post, just being in the area of Fenway Park on Opening Day is enough for most people. The hundreds of watering holes surrounding the park are jam-packed with people and have lines around the corner to get in. Until this year, I had spent the bulk of Opening Day at the Cask n Flagon, meeting the same group of peeps each time. This time around, Jacks and I pre-gamed at the Cask with our friends before heading into the park. When it was time to leave, I seriously felt guilty and almost jealous. It sounds insane, but I almost preferred to stay in the Cask than go to the game. (My Mom will kill me for saying it, but it’s the truth).

Anyway, here are some of my favorite memories from the day (what I can remember, at least):

Toto, I don’t think we’re in the Cask anymore?

For years, I had gone to the Cask on Opening Day because it’s simply the place to be. There was nothing particularly great about it, other than the fact that I loved it. It’s located on the corner of Brookline Ave. and Lansdowne Street, directly beside Fenway Park. It was what I liked to call "a dressed-up dive." It was dark and dreary with only one group of windows in the front of the building. Honestly, if you didn’t wear a watch, you’d have no idea what time of day it was. It’s decor wasn’t exactly eye-catching and it was always hot as Hell. But it was the place to be if you were a TRUE Sox fan.

During the off-season, the Cask underwent a serious overhaul. Millions of dollars were spent on renovating the popular Sox watering hole and in the end, it looked absolutely amazing. So much so, that I really didn’t know where I was. It occupies the same corner, but is a completely different structure. Windows stretch around the entire building from end to end. Tables line the walls and high top booths offer the cushiest seating. Plasma TV’s are everywhere. I mean it. No matter what direction I turned in, I NEVER missed a second of the action. Also, there’s a TV in the ladies room—which now has 14 stalls. (The bathrooms were simply the worst thing about the Cask before the renovations. Two stalls in one room, three in another. You could count on at least two of them being out of commission halfway through the day with girls clogging them up with God knows what. Needless to say, this was a welcomed change).

A few things I didn’t like, though:

* No more basketball game. The old Cask had a little gaming area that had a hoop shot, Golden Tee, a hunting game, and a couple others. For the previous five years, I had met the same group of guys for a hoop tourney. Last year, they didn’t show because I later found out they got a sweet deal at Copperfield’s down the street. But I bumped into three of them this year and they were truly disappointed our tourney could not continue.

* Nowhere to stand. This will only be the case for about three more weeks, when the back club area is completed and open for business. The front room is clearly more restauranty, leaving little place for us boozers to stand. The whole day we were being pushed around by passersby and waitresses trying to serve their tables. It wasn’t very comfortable. But this will all be solved when the 600-capacity back room opens. It’s catered more to the drinkers who like to stand around and chat. Also, there’s going to be six projector 80-inch TVs. Did you see my ears just perk up?

* Having to let my friends in at different times during the day. I know pretty much everyone at the Cask, including management and owners. Because of this fact, I never have to wait in line and often get the royal treatment. It’s a nice perk. Here’s the rub: EVERYONE wants me to get them in. Honestly, I don’t mind getting my friends into the Cask if they’re with me. I do have a problem getting different groups of people in at all hours of the day. It’s not fair to me or the bouncers who put their jobs at risk by letting my friends in over capacity. This is why I tell people to meet me beforehand so they can get in with me. Of course, this didn’t happen. At one point, I told my friends, that’s it. I’m not getting anyone else in. It was ruining my day, honestly. They’ll learn.

* No Krissy. This is the second-straight Opening Day that my sister has missed because she now resides on the Left Coast. Those who know Krissy know why she was missed. In short, she’s tons of fun and watching her show off her increasing knowledge of the game brings warmth and joy to my heart. Love you, sister. I don’t care what you have to do to get here next year, but you better!!

Finally…my shirt gets me on TV:

Every year for Opening Day, I’ve made a T-shirt. Last year it was "Curse Closed" on the front and "The Rivalry Begins Now" on the back. This was because we had just won the World Series and were playing the Yankees on Opening Day. We got our WS rings that day while the Yanks had to look on. It was honestly one of the best days of my life!! Last year, Jack Harper from Channel 5 commented on my shirt, but had already wrapped his 6 p.m. coverage (it was 5:45 p.m.). Drag!!

Anyway, this year my shirt asked, "Who the New Kids?". This is of course in reference to all the new faces on the Red Sox team this season. While waiting in the foyer for Jacks to get into the Cask, a man from CN8 asked if my shirt was in reference to the new guys, to which I stated, "DUH". (No, not really. But that’s what I wanted to say). He then said he’d come find me for an interview, which he did 15 minutes later. He asked me about my shirt, then about the chemistry of the team, then about the new faces and what I thought of them. Good stuff. My interview aired around 10:30 p.m. that night and he used about 15 seconds of it. I sounded smart, though, so that’s all that matters!!

The game, of course:

After a lousy first inning in which new pitcher Josh Beckett walked in a pair of runs (eek!), he settled down and was virtually light’s out the rest of the game. The Sox answered in the form of a 4-for-4, three double, one homerun effort from Mike Lowell and homerun by David "Big Papi" Ortiz.

Beckett pitched seven strong innings and handed the ball to Keith Foulke, who simply can no longer pitch a one-two-three inning. He gave up a two-run homer in the eighth, making it 5-3 Sox. He got out of the inning, thankfully, and the Sox went to new closer Jonathan Papelbon in the ninth. The kid threw gas and retired the side to give the Sox the win, their second-straight on Opening Day!!

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All in all, it was a great day. The worst part about it was knowing I had to get up for work the next day. Boooooooooooooooooo!!! It wasn’t that bad, though. I’ve become somewhat of a professional drinker, in that I never get a hangover. I may be a bit groggy, but I no longer seem to ride the porcelain bus, which is always a good thing. (Sorry, Mom).

Have a great weekend everyone!!

Things I'll never understand about Boston weather and Opening Day preview.

At this time last week, it was 70 degrees out. It was the third of what was good three days of quality warm weather and it was truly starting to feel like spring. Flash forward to last Wednesday and I’m wiping snow off my car!! This is of course after I: A) Had already moved my snow sweeper from the back seat of my car to the trunk. It spent a good three months collecting dust on the floor of my back seat, and where it was April 5, I figured I was okay. I really should no better. B) Removed all hats/gloves/scarves from my car, which were also collecting dust and taking up space. C) Left my jacket in the car, forcing me to walk from my office building to my car while getting pelted with snow. My own fault for not watching or reading any weather reports, but come on!! It was April 5!! ARGH!

Fortunately, the snow was melted by early evening and I wasn’t really all that bothered by it. We’ve had it pretty darn easy this winter, so I really have no cause to complain.
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Anyway, things are looking up weather-wise and this is particularly good news. Why, you ask? Because tomorrow is Red Sox Opening Day at Fenway Park. Yes, I will be there to watch our 5-1 Boston boys of summer host Toronto in the first home game of the 2006 season and it’s slated to be in the 60s and mostly sunny all day long. Flippin sweet!!

This will be the sixth year in a row that I descend on Fenway for Opening Day, but it’s the first time I’ve ever had tickets to the game. I don’t know how things work elsewhere in the country, but in Boston, just being in the Fenway area on Opening Day is good enough for most. I have met the same people at the Cask n Flagon (bar right outside the Park) every year for a day of drinking/food/drinking/food/drinking/drinking/drinking for the last five years. None of us had tickets to the game and that was alright by us. There’s just as many people in the bars as their will be at the game. To put it simply, it’s nuts and I love it.

This year is shaping up to be the best yet, not just because I’m going to the game, but because of who’s going to be there. The usuals include: Me, Jacks, Dennis, Chuck, Al, Amy (maybe). My Mom was a new arrival last year and she will be in attendance once again this time around. She’s bringing a newbie: her best friend Dori (the reason I have a ticket this year. Big ups, Dori!!). This year finds typical bailers becoming definites with my friends from the Bell (Danielle, Meri, and Caitlin) all getting tickets this year. Poor Caitlin has to work later that night, but will do some damage early.

Anyway, it’s shaping up to be quite a party. Stay tuned for what I assume will be a fabulous post on the events of the day. I’m aiming at getting that online Wednesday afternoon. Until then, peace out and Go Sox!!!

Another woman...just what the world needs!!

At exactly 11:47 p.m. last night (April 4), Taylor Madison Teixeira was born. My roommate Beth—well, former roommie now—and her beau, Mush (real name Rich, but NO ONE calls him that…except Beth, which prompts a "who?" from me every time!!) welcomed their long awaited daughter into the world. She weighs 7lbs., 2oz. and is absolutely beautiful, at least in her picture. I get to see her today and I can’t wait!!

I’ve already told Beth I plan to be Taylor’s favorite Auntie. (And yes, I am her Aunt even though there’s no blood-relation. I have only one blood sister — shout-out to Krissy on the left coast, holla, holla, holla — but Beth and I about as close as it gets. A St. Louis native, Beth’s entire family lives back in MO. Mare, Rich, and me are her family here and Taylor’s our newest addition).

It’s funny to think how quickly lives can change. Little more than a year and a half ago, Beth, Mare, and I moved into our Southie pad and have had so much fun ever since. Sure we’ve had our little dramas, but I can honestly say it’s the best living situation I’d ever been in (college excluded, of course. Love you Ange, Jess, Heather, Rachael, and newly engaged Meg).

With all three of us being bartenders, it should come as no surprise that alcohol was practically our fourth roommate. We used to have Cosmopolitan nights just to have them, crack open a bottle of wine just to "try" it, buy a case of beers because they were on sale. We loved to drink, and Beth — you know it’s true, girl — could drink us both under the table.

Flash forward to September 2005 and Beth is preggers. Beth with a baby in the womb is a fun thing to see. As the months went by, there wasn’t a day that passed that Beth didn’t say something about wanting to drink. When it was a nice day, it was "Days like these make me want to sit outside somewhere and drink margaritas." During football season, it was "I just want a beer!!" Her ears perked up when given two bottles of Vuve (sp?) Champagne a week ago at her baby shower.

But my favorite expression of all: "I’m just over it."…Being pregnant, that is. It was hysterical. Everyday, she’d get bigger, more uncomfortable, and more impatient. She’d look down at her belly, give it a poke with her index finger and say "come on already, Taylor!!" So funny. But we all felt the same, couldn’t wait to meet her.

Well, she’s finally here, B (my nickname for her) and I couldn’t be happier for you and Mush. He’s going to spoil that kid rotten…and why shouldn’t he?

Anyway, I’ll end this post with the top 10 things I’ll miss about living with Beth (in no particular order):
* Going to Terri’s Place for breakfast on Saturdays/Sundays in our jammies and always ordering the same thing. Beth: Breakfast Burrito with salsa. Julie: Ham/cheese egg white omelet.
* Watching Jeopardy together and making fun of the dorks who compete on the show. Also watching 24 on Mondays. (We are truly junkies).
* Grilling with Tedy (our beloved football helmet Budweiser charcoal grill) on the roof.
* Our Cosmo parties (Had a lot of good talks with the girls. Easy to dish when you have a two-cosmo buzz).
* Her obsession with all things Hollywood. Honestly, tabloid mags all over the apartment.
* How excited she was to show us new clothing purchases and her excessive use of the word "cute" to describe them.
* Her I-Pod knowledge. I have 6,500 songs in my I-Pod and 95% are there because Beth did the work.
* Having someone to eat meat with. (Mare’s a vegetarian).
* Hearing her sing the wrong lyrics to songs and how she butchered the names of Massachusetts towns. Seriously funny stuff.
* Her to-do lists that never got finished because of her constant procrastination. So funny. She’d be sitting on the couch with the list staring her in the face and she’d say, "I just don’t feel like doing anything today." It happened often.

I foresee some of these trends continuing, but I realize they will not occur nearly as often as they once did. Understandable, but sad. Our little St. Louis girl’s all grown up and raising another. Can’t wait to share in your new experience. Any time you need a babysitter, I’m your gal. Remember, I’m Taylor’s favorite Auntie!! Love you, B.

Nice day, not so nice attire.

We’re experiencing some unseasonably warm weather here in Boston and when this occurs you can count on seeing three different groups of people walking around:

Overboarders -
These are people who hear the phrase "nice weather" and absolutely flip out. They immediately bust out the skirts and shorts, flip-flops, tanks/half-shirts/halters, you name it. These are people who immediately flock to the beach or Boston Common or the Public Garden to sunbathe or play volleyball. Sounds like a good time, but I’m going to tell you why you still look like an idot.

Sure it’s 70 degrees out and the sun is blazing, but with 4-5 mile an hour winds it feels more like 60. Then when you walk into a shaded area, it’s more like 50. When the sun sets completely, it’s more like 40. Now you’re stuck roaming around half-naked with your arms folded and covered in goose bumps, FREEZING. Why? Because you went overboard!!

Middle of the Roaders -
These are people who recognize the weather is nice and decide to enjoy it by taking off the sweater and putting on a T-shirt. I am one of these people. We still wear our jeans/pants and sneakers and wrap a long-sleeved shirt around our waists. We’ll take a nice long walk/run along the boardwalk (NEAR THE BEACH, not on it) or perhaps toss a baseball around or shoot some hoops. We are comfortable and content and truly enjoy the day. Trust me, this is who you want to be people.

Non-conformists -
These are people who simply don’t care if the weather is warmer. It’s still late March/early April and they’re going to dress accordingly no matter what. These are the people who still wear pants/jeans with sweaters, a long coat, scarf and gloves and still say there cold. Granted, these are mostly gray hairs who are cold when its 90 degrees, but I’ve seen a few younger folks who just refuse to buy into the whole "nice day" idea by shedding some clothes. It’s a shame really.
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So I’ve been working like a bastard the last few weeks and it’s only going to get worse. On top of my full-time job, I typically work two days/nights a week at the bar. Last week, I worked three. This week, three more. Next week, four!! I’m glad I’m getting some extra shifts because I could use the dough, but it’s absolute torture on my system. I’m always more tired and cranky and sore. Let’s face it, I’m not exactly a spring chicken anymore. I’m getting up there and there’s only so much more of this I can take!!

I’ve decided to hit the lottery. I’m just going to do it. I don’t want to work anymore. Just don’t. So I’ll just win the lottery. Yeah, that’s it. Piece of cake.
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I guess the only thing getting me through the next few weeks will be the Red Sox starting. The Boston boys of summer kick off the 2006 season today, actually, in Texas, but will be home April 11 for the home opener at Fenway. I’ll be there and I can’t freakin wait!! If anyone has the opportunity to be in the Fenway area on this day, you should really check it out because there’s nothing like Red Sox baseball, especially on Day 1.

I’ll be rolling into the Fenway area between 11-12 for a 2 p.m. game. I’ll cut the enormous line at the newly renovated Cask n Flagon via my VIP pass (oh yeah, I’m special) and will consume as much pre-game booze as possible before heading in to the game (at $6 a beer in the park, you’d do the same).

Eight more days. The countdown begins.