scientist/exotic dancer
i'm in california, i got here last night and i'm staying until next sunday. it's foggy here, and i've eaten a lot of grape tomatos. but before that -- reason number #4826 why boston is the wretch place for wretches like me: on tuesday night, i went to a red sox game (they played the indians) and on thursday night, i went to a fall out boy concert, and the crowd broke out into a spontaneous "yankees suck" chant both times.
with regard to the baseball game: i was thinking about baseball (because i'm not going to start writing varitek/timlin fan fiction, but i do feel a way about baseball that can only be described as fannish) and the stuff i was saying a couple weeks ago about how real life lacks narrative arcs, and how baseball is like real life with narrative, but without the guarantee of satisfying arcs. josh beckett, he's got a pretty good arc going. he came to the red sox last year a young phenom, and then he spent a season pitching wildly uneven, and then he came back this season and went 7-0 in his first seven starts, and then he went on the disabled list for two weeks with a don't call it a blister. his first game back was tuesday night, and i went there thinking, you know, it'd be too good, he can't possibly come back and be lights out, but he was, he came back and pitched great without missing a beat. that's the thing i love so much about sports, it's like a really great sweeps week episode of your favorite tv show except that you can go there.
with regard to the fall out boy show: pete wentz, on the other hand, strikes me as the person most likely in this world to be sad that he can't give his own life narrative arcs. but those are thinky thoughts for another time, so instead i'll just say that patrick stump is, indeed, very small, and sang an impressively on-key rendition of happy birthday, and pwentz intro'd their surprisingly awesometastic cover of "beat it" by saying there aren't enough rift that you can "fight, fuck and dance to anymore."
with regard to the baseball game: i was thinking about baseball (because i'm not going to start writing varitek/timlin fan fiction, but i do feel a way about baseball that can only be described as fannish) and the stuff i was saying a couple weeks ago about how real life lacks narrative arcs, and how baseball is like real life with narrative, but without the guarantee of satisfying arcs. josh beckett, he's got a pretty good arc going. he came to the red sox last year a young phenom, and then he spent a season pitching wildly uneven, and then he came back this season and went 7-0 in his first seven starts, and then he went on the disabled list for two weeks with a don't call it a blister. his first game back was tuesday night, and i went there thinking, you know, it'd be too good, he can't possibly come back and be lights out, but he was, he came back and pitched great without missing a beat. that's the thing i love so much about sports, it's like a really great sweeps week episode of your favorite tv show except that you can go there.
with regard to the fall out boy show: pete wentz, on the other hand, strikes me as the person most likely in this world to be sad that he can't give his own life narrative arcs. but those are thinky thoughts for another time, so instead i'll just say that patrick stump is, indeed, very small, and sang an impressively on-key rendition of happy birthday, and pwentz intro'd their surprisingly awesometastic cover of "beat it" by saying there aren't enough rift that you can "fight, fuck and dance to anymore."