Life in Toronto and the Bahamas.
A Blog Named After my Sofa.
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The Mets!
The Mets are coming to Toronto this week! Since inter-league play started, I always go to the games when they come to town. You may ask: why on earth do I love the Mets? Because in 1986, I thought Keith Hernandez was cute. That's a perfectly legitimate reason for a teenage girl to pick a favourite sports team. It was also one of the rare instances where a guy with a moustache rocked my world.
David Wright against the Washington Nationals, 2010.
That year was, of course, the year to love the Mets. Later on I discovered what a busload of degenerates most of them were, but I had loved and followed them all season, and anyone who desperately wanted them to win, then saw Game 6, is probably a fan for life.
I dip in and out of baseball, despite my love for it. I even stop paying attention to the Mets. I got back into them when they picked up Mike Piazza in 1998 (Jesus, I thought Hernandez's moustache was bad... )They got really good, and fun, again for a few years. Then, they'd suck for a while, but they'd bounce back with new blood like José Reyes and David Wright. We're not talking about 2007, however, so don't even think about it. The Mets are the team that always bring me back to baseball. I've seen them play here in Toronto, but also against the Washington Nationals in DC, and, of course, at Shea stadium. There was no way I'd miss seeing at least one game there, so in 2008, I did.
My lovely (and massive) free t-shirt.
I'll be at the game Wednesday night, and though I will be wearing my gigantic Shea give-away shirt, I am going to cheer for the Jays. They've been on an amazing streak lately, and the AL East is anyone's (except Boston's -ha!) game right now. As I have said before, it's time for me to show the home town some love. It's been almost 30 years since I fell in love with the Mets, and baseball. When the Blue Jays won the World Series back to back in the 90s, it was amazing, but it didn't feel like 1986. Then again, for a Mets fan, nothing ever will.
This is how I do it. My brain turns on at the weirdest times. I first saw a pen like this when I was in my 20s, in a TV report about a movie reviewer, who used one to take his notes in a dark theatre. I searched everywhere, and finally found one. Before I had it, I tried a few other tactics to help me save for posterity the incredibly deep, meaningful thoughts I felt I was having at night. I tried just writing with a pencil in the dark, but that didn't work out too well. My writing, on a good day, looks like someone suffering from the DTs sprayed Silly String on paper during an earthquake. What I mean to say is, it's really, really bad. So, the pencil thing was a bust. Next, I bought a mini-tape recorder, but my middle-of-the-night mumbling was almost worse than my writing. It seemed like my Shakespearean musings would be lost to humanity. How tragic! The pen. Then, I got my flashlight pen. It was a revela...
Image- Pinterest I had braces for 3 years. That may give you some idea of how out of whack my teeth were as an adolescent. My dad used to say I could eat corn on the cob through a picket fence. Even with good insurance, he still referred to my braces as "the trip to Hawaii." I had them removed just a few weeks into high school. I was perfect, for about a month. Then, one day in math class, my teacher asked me to do the problem written on the blackboard. "There's something written on the blackboard?" I said, which was both smart-ass and true. I couldn't see a damn thing on it. So, off I went for an eye exam, and, sure enough, I needed glasses. I was not pleased. Hipsters hadn't yet been spawned by the devil, and the only people who wore glasses were nerds and old people.
As I mentioned in a previous post , and as it's the season, I am in a purging and organizing mood. No, I'm not following Marie Kondo's advice as closely as I should be, mostly because it's SO HARD with books, and I have more books than anything else. I've gone over and over my bookshelves, but I just can't seem to part with any more titles. The vast majority of my books do spark joy, even if it's just the memory of having read it; I know I'm supposed to get rid of them anyway. Not sure I can. I have started making piles that I am calling "now or never" books. One of the bits of advice in The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up is essentially: if you haven't read it yet, you're never going to. I just can't face that. In the pile pictured above are some books that I know will be amazing, but for some reason I haven't found the time. I have to read these in the next, let's say, 2 months, or they get donated. It...
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