For The Love Of Tight Pants

So, today was opening day of baseball.

*Yawn*

I suppose I should be excited. This means it’s officially Spring, right? And it’s America’s Favorite Pastime, right???

But… Sadly… I. Just. Can’t.

It’s not that I don’t WANT to care. I really, really do. I feel downright un-American. Baseball seems like something I should be able to get behind. Men in tight pants? Drinking? Shoving encased meats in my face? Sounds kind of great, actually. I mean, I live in Chicago, we have two baseball teams, for God’s sake. Two!

But… I don’t care. I just don’t.

Don’t get me wrong, I love movies about baseball. ‘A League Of Their Own’? Hell yeah, there’s no crying in baseball, bitches! ‘Field Of Dreams’? Preach on, James Earl Jones! ‘Trouble With The Curve’? Ok, I was a little disappointed Justin Timberlake wasn’t in baseball pants, not gonna lie, but I can overlook that because I thoroughly enjoyed the movie, and who doesn’t love Clint Eastwood? Even as an old dude, he’s completely badass. Come on now. But the game itself? Like, dudes hitting a ball with a stick and running around some bases? I don’t get it, guys.

*Sigh*

I know… I’m ashamed of me, too.

But seriously, at least bend over a little more, fellas. Don’t let the pants go to waste.

Uhhh… Play ball?

 

Paula In The Country Goes To The City

Many, many moons ago, when I was just a bright-eyed 20-something, I worked and lived in the great city of Chicago. Although I don’t think I could live there now, seeing as how even the slightest bit of traffic puts me into a mild road rage, I do miss it sometimes. I miss the life- How there was always something happening, all the diversity and restaurants and activity that you just don’t get in the far western ‘burbs. *Sigh* In my ideal world, I would love to have a big old Victorian house in the country, and a party condo near the lake. Someone hurry up and find me a sugar daddy, would you? Anyway, to get to the point of today’s blog, tonight I’m going to a city friend/ex-coworker deep dish pizza party. Even now, just thinking about it puts a smile on my face. These friends are the type of friends that I don’t talk to every day, rarely see, but are lifetime friends. I could not talk to them for years, but know, without question, that should anything ever happen to me, these people would have my back in a heartbeat without even blinking an eye. And that any chance we do have to get together is always going to be an obscene amount of fun. These are great friends. And I am one hell of a lucky girl to have them. Also, we get very drunk and I fall backwards into bathtubs sometimes, but that’s pretty normal, right? Just say yes.

Side note: I get pizza! Pequod’s, to be exact. I firmly believe this is the greatest pizza in the city of Chicago. There’s caramelized cheese involved. Don’t question it. Just try it.