c is for...
christian cosas. can't buy a bucket. cantakerous. carbon-based. cash-starved. cheap date. chintzy. cinematic snob. classroom warrior. cleanliness-impaired. complicated. compulsive videogamer. congenitally late. conspicuous. coronary-inducing. crabby.
September 7, 2008
Thursday night, Joan revealed her early birthday present for me—a secret she’d been keeping for over half a year: swanky seats to a Cardinals-Marlins game on Friday.
Earlier in the year, her boss generously sent out an open invitation to his employees. He’d gotten season tickets in the Redbird Club, almost right behind home plate, and any employee interested in a specific date could pay him for the individual game tickets.
What made the gift extra special, besides the excellent seats, was that it would be my first game in the new Busch Stadium, as well as Joan’s very first Cards game.
After she told me, she asked: “Do you want to pick up a glove, just in case a foul ball flies back?”
I thought, and said, “I don’t think it’ll happen. It just doesn’t seem likely that a foul ball would fly that high behind home plate.”
Friday night came, and I was squealing with excitement the entire time. At the bottom of the second inning, right-fielder Ryan Ludwick was up to bat, and was fouling in every direction possible. Sure enough, one foul ball flew backwards.
I shot up, leaned over Joan, knocked over her Diet Coke, wedged my shin into the seat directly in front of us (ow), and stuck my hand out.
The ball bounced off my left thumb (OW) and behind us a couple rows, into the glove of some ten-year-old.
I sat back down, rubbed my throbbing shin, and held my thumb, numb from the impact. I looked sheepishly at the destruction I left in my path, and then at my wife.
“You were right.”
Game went into extra innings, but we eventually lost 4-1. Still a great experience.
October 27, 2006
I don’t believe in the idea of a soulmate. That God would create a single, solitary “perfect match” for every person on this earth, every person in history, and every person yet to be born not only smacks of naiveté and romantic idealism, but bad theology. I attended a relationship seminar in college many years ago, and there, even the two married couples who ran it didn’t buy the concept; they said, the way God works through and creates us, we all are potential “soulmates” to each other. That made a lot more sense to me.
I don’t believe in a soulmate. And yet, two years and three months ago, I found her.
So, tonight, I asked my soulmate to spend the rest of her life with me.
October 25, 2006
Chapter the Sixteenth In which, after Christian emails Julia the Spanish radio call of Albert Pujols’s NLCS 2005 Game 5 moonshot, a special message for a special someone is shared for the ages.
<christian> “laaaaaaargo! home run de albert pujols! silencio, silencio, todo el mundo”
<julia> OOH OOH, do you have the spanish call of that?
<christian> i do i do i do
<julia> can you email it to me?
<julia> Please please please
<christian> do you need the other calls, too?
<julia> yeah, I think I accidentally deleted it
<julia> I have the shannon one
<julia> I got it, c2, thanks
<christian> no prob
<christian> no praaaaaaaaaaaaablem
<julia> you know it makes me goeey when you say it like that c2
<jenny> take it to another chat room
<julia> you’re the only one who knows the way I like it
<christian> uhhh. oh dear. you know joan is going to be reading this, right?
<julia> Zumaya scares me
<christian> joel zumaya, set to the music of metallica
<julia> SERIOUSLY, I’m scared!
<jenny> and Joan is reading this? Joan, if you read this, I want you to know I think you are sexy and you deserve better than C2
<jenny> like Julia or something
<jenny> what? Julia is hot
<julia> I’m way hot. Correct.
<jenny> and Joan is hot toio
<jenny> they’d be perfect for each other
<julia> correct again!
<christian> i’m cute! i’m way cute! i have dimples when i smile! HEY!
<julia> I’ve been talking lately about how I want to switch teams (not baseball teams)
<jenny> did C2 make you swear off men and become a lesbian?
See also Part I.
Chapter the Eighth: In which our chummy chatterers discuss gluttony and shady euphemisms.
<jenny> aaron says after looking at the cardinals fans, he hasn’t seen this many fat people since celebrity fit club
<jenny> he’s pretty proud of that
<julia> yeah, whatevs.... we’re fat… so @#&!ing what?
<christian> well, we’ve just had more time to drink beer because OH YEAH WE’RE STILL IN THE PLAYOFFS
<julia> Hey c2, remember when Carlos beltran struck out looking to eliminate his team?
<christian> heeee. and leaving all those poor mets on base
<julia> first hit of the night
<jenny> first base!
<jenny> maybe if aaron is lucky, he’ll ge to first base too
<jenny> probably noit
<jenny> aaron said if he’s like the mets, he’ll load the bases but won’t be able to get the guys home?
<jenny> what does that me? does he e.d.?
<christian> ooooh, self slam
<jenny> oh wait
<jenny> i can cure that
<julia> oh MY
<christian> TOO MUCH INFORMATION
<jenny> i have to make fun of you f-ers that dont have a hit yet
<jenny> this guy has no idea what he’s doing
<jenny> what a bad pitcher/hitter
<julia> fudge, carp, don’t get stressed
<jenny> stressy stressy
<jenny> good bunt
<jenny> go pitcher!
<jenny> runny runny
<jenny> i told aaron about molina getting hit in the family jewels last game
<jenny> aaron said there was nothing for him to hit
<jenny> i even felt bad and I’m a chick
<christian> are you? i thought we were contesting that
<julia> rumor has it you’re a man
<jenny> i can’t believe I’m missing dancing with the stars for this
<jenny> someone better score
Chapter the First: In which Jennifer, Julia, and Christian each formally great each other as proper ladies and gentlemen.
<jenny> where’s gulia
<jenny> i don’t see her
<christian> oh, whatserbutt?
<christian> also, she made a lovely crack about “washing your hands”
<jenny> she’s not signed on to aol yet
<jenny> and it’s either dirt or he wiped his ass with his hand
<christian> i personally use pine tar whenever i play piano
<christian> just called her
<christian> she said she’d be right in
<jenny> why is my IM window not dinging when you write something?
<christian> because i am writing in stealth IM
<christian> like a ninja
<jenny> you are not a nija
<christian> i am too
<christian> there she is!
<julia> go cards!
<jenny> go tigers!
<christian> yeah! go cards!
<jenny> we wipe our asses with our hands!
<julia> ew ew ew ew
December 31, 2005
December 30, 2005
See also the previous entry, Part I: Vigil
December 29, 2005
I usually joke about how I always get sick on two very specific days of the year: December 26 and the Monday after Easter. Due to my girlfriend’s expert preventative measures (i.e., mainlining Vitamin C, Echinacea, Zinc Cold-Eez lozenges, and lots of chicken soup), this year’s Christmas illness seems to have been averted. Despite her excellent care, I still feel like I came pretty close to the typical Christmas system crash.
That’s because a typical Christmas for somebody like me will look something like this.