"You lollygag around the infield, you lollygag around the outfield, you lollygag around the bases. You know what that makes you? A bunch of LOLLYGAGGERS!"
I am sure you're all wondering on this fine Thursday, just what happens when this blogger has one Otter Creek ale and two tiramisu martinis?
No, not that. I did not become ill.
Unless you think drunk-dialing / drunk texting is an illness, in which case, I became very ill.
At least I did not contact any ex-loves. I only reached out my hormonal self to current flames.
And apparently I was very amusing, judging from the responses I have on my VM and in my text replies. So, cheap entertainment, that I am!
Speaking of entertainment.
I don't think I mentioned that Seattle is a pitcher, for a men's city baseball league. He's also a coach for middle schoolers. Yes. He isn't a catcher, but he's the next best thing, a pitcher. MMMmmmm mmmm mmmm. We share a passion for baseball. We can quote Bull Durham to each other, a hilarious benchmark of silly, sentimental baseball movies. Oh what I wouldn't give to look like Susan Sarandon in that movie.
Anyway, I mention all that to say that I had a vivid dream. This must be a result of having talked with him about going to a World Series game at the end of this month. BIG dream as tickets start at $750 each already and those are for the games that might not even be played. So anyway, my dream:
Seattle. Me. *ahem* On a pitcher's mound. (Could have been Fenway, but I recall no details that it was.) Him: sans clothing, except cleats. (Yes, my mind is bizarre.) Me: in his jersey, which he has mentioned several times he wants to see me wearing. Dirt on my hands, on my knees, in my hair, on my face. And an announcer calling out his name to the mound like they do with a pitching change during a game. Someone please cue the Meatloaf song...don't know the name of it.
That's all I remember. Well, there is another small detail, but I'm keeping it to myself. Let's just say I woke up exhausted.
This relatively "safe at home" hormonal moment was brought to you by Skyy vodka and Godiva liqueur. Feeling hormonal? Get some!
Losing Weight; Finding Men
"Never make someone a priority in your life when you are just their option."
Thursday, October 9, 2008
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4 comments:
OH. MY. That sounds like so...so...dirty...in a GOOD WAY! Are you gonna tell him about this dream?? ;) I think you need to!
Let me sleep on it, baby, baby, let me sleep on it. It's "Paradise by the Dashboard Lights"
Sounds like you had fun and HOLY CRAP - how do you make a tiramisu martini? I want one. I need to google it and see if I can make one.
And I can only imagine the part of the dream you kept to yourself. It's ok though, I have a VERY GOOD imagination.
I am stoppin in cuz of your red sox comment on debs blog......jersy girl we are includin you in our kidnapping ring for debs grandbaby-you ok with that?
oh I forgot to say cuz i was all worked up at havin a jersy girl on our side....that godiva goblet looks divine
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