Actual commentary when I stopped in the office to pick something up last night: "Please tell me that you didn’t wear a cashmere shirt to your softball game." Ok, I don’t tell you. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t do it, just that I won’t share that with you. Evidently, this isn’t done? (Actually, it was b/c I only had a t-shirt, and it was really cold (and windy) out last night and that was the only long sleeved shirt I had in my car. (Sadly, it's there because on the nights when I spent the night at work I didn't want to have to wear the same clothes on day 2. But I digress. Though what better use of cashmere? It makes me itch anyway.)

I’ve slowly been bringing my cd collection to work to download onto my computer. Can anyone explain why I have what I thought was the entire collection of Billboards, from 1962-1989, but appear to in fact be missing years 1973 and 1974. Or a better question - why did I go through a phase (sophomore year of college it was, I believe) when I felt that I needed to get every one of Billboards Annual CDs??

When you work in a predominantly Jewish law firm (at least among the partners; the associates do not seem to be), it's relatively empty the night before Passover begins. (I know a few felt cheated b/c Passover fell on a weekend.)

Oh, and Wickman blew his second save of the season. Hmm...that's not good at all. Of course, my softball team blew a save last night too - we lost in the bottom of the 7th. Now, keep in mind that I haven't played in a softball game in years. And by that, I mean more than 10. As in yes, not since high school. Now imagine me holding a bat for the first time in years (I did go to the batting cages in 2000 when I lived in NYC - my roommate found batting cages and we went.) The first pitch I felt was high (the fucking thing WAS high, it wasn't a feeling. It flat out was high.) It was called a strike. And then he says, "1-2." WTF?? Last night I learned that in softball leagues, you start with a 1-1 pitch count. Don't quite have a rationale I accept about this. But whatever. This threw me, and caused me to swing at a second pitch WAY out of the strike zone. I was beyond irritated.

This other team was MAJOR into it. We were just sort of walking onto the field, walking over to a position, when on the bench drinking (we had a cooler of beer). We were batting, then trying to remember who we batted after. At one point, they started squawking that we batted out of order. They had a book with our linup in it, what we hit last time, where we played each inning, etc. YIKES! Seriously, this is rec people. REC! (Yes, I don't like to lose, but I don't like to take it as life and death either.)