Fuck.

Just when I think I can go on. You move me.

You. Move. Me.
Fuck.

Today Rosalita. Yesterday it was the Human Touch video.

Baseball Fans are Romantics

In the movie "Fever Pitch" when that one dude from SNL tells Drew Barrymore that he has something to tell her -- he's really, really into baseball and she just might not understand his deep devotion to the passion and glory of the game. Barrymore responds, like any perfect girlfriend would, that he loves baseball so much because he's really just a romantic, and romantics need an outlet for their feelings. It's cute. Baseball fans are maniacs who pour over statistics, superstitions, poetic play by plays, and finding the perfect branded gear to match their personalities on a daily basis, April through September. It's crazy, and thank god for it.

"Finish your date, I'll hang out here, and when you're done we'll get married."

I got a really cool email from a guy at MLB tonight, and I'm super stoked about it. The MLB, not just some goof-ball working in the gold and green offices, but the MLB -- the real deal. And he's a voter for the Hall of Fame. Holy fucking shit donkeys!

Also, I love this blog: http://tigervicki.mlblogs.com

Row 217 at the collesium

In the end, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, and I'm sorry for it all. No matter what, no matter how many people I'm with or who I marry, I love YOU. I wish we could have worked out. I'm always willing to keep trying.

I'd give anything to be with you now. I'd give anything to be with you at all.

The Swish

Pretty much, all I do with my life is read Nick Swisher's blog.

Hair

I like a good fight scene with hair and sweat.

Kathy's signature

Last night I dreamt that we were riding around in your blue mustang listening to A's radio. Nothing was right, but we didn't care. The sun was out and we ended up getting some breakfast at a place down in Baja. It was nice to see you happy to be around me.

It's okay

I don't like me either.

I heard "i will always love you" while driving back from Sacramento and at first thought of us, until I remembered how she was your "bittersweet" love, not me. How she had written "I wish you love" for your birthday. I wasn't ever a part of that picture. Not in anyway. Your love for her, your pain beside her, her screaming at you - none of it had anything to do with me. I wasn't there. I wasn't in your heart. I wasn't in a memory. I just wasn't there. It wasn't my life. Somewhere inside someday, I'm gong to be happy to have made this realization that it wasn't about me - it wasn't you not liking me, you lying to me, you loving her more - that it was a complete absence of me and that was all. But for now, I just feel lonely. And sad. Agony in complete loss is how I would describe it, but that will get better. I don't want to be a drama queen after all. I want peace and friendship.

It's okay. You shouldn't be near me. I get it. I know. She was good to you, but crazy. I was bad to you and mean. I understand how it works. You should be her friend. You should see her every now and again, share a beer, share a laugh. I went too far. I ran away. It's my fault. I judged you and yelled. I asked for your lies. I begged you to hide from me.

It's not even worth apologizing for anymore. It's over and gone.