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.
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
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.
Greek yogurt pancakes. As someone who spends as much time as possible on Harbour Island, I feel a kinship with others who love it there and return frequently. Kinship isn't the right word; that implies some sort of equal status, which I am very well aware I don't share with the Harbour Island people I follow on Instagram: India Hicks , Annika Von Holdt , Alessandra Branca , Amanda Brooks , and Marie-Chantal of Greece . Aside from the fact that I am pretty much the only one of these women with any measurable body fat, let's not even get into the gulf between our economic statuses. (Then again, being the poorest person to regularly holiday on HI, and now to have a house on Eleuthera, is not one of the world's saddest tales, I know). Take Marie-Chantal, or MC, as her friends (and someone who prefers to type only 2 letters) call her. One of three daughters of duty-free magnate Robert Miller, she married into the deposed Greek royal family in the 90s, and is no
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