Lost

Last year, when the Red Sox were in this exact situation, down 3-1 in the ALCS, Josh Beckett had the ball for the do or die game 5, and I had no doubts whatsoever that he would keep them in it. Josh Beckett has failed twice this post-season. Like, spectacularly. And it's not even him with the ball this time. I don't know what to do.

Back to back World Series wins would be fantastic. You know the last time that happened? 1915 and 1916. Although, at least it has happened in Red Sox history, I suppose. Losing to the Rays would be kind of embarrassing, despite the fact that they're clearly on fire this year. Still. They were the worst team in Major League Baseball last season, and Boston was, ostensibly, the best. You know, since they won the World Series.

Worst of all, it seems like the fans just don't care this year. I am beginning to include myself in this. I don't know. The curse is gone, and now we're all complacent? It's just baseball? Boston is not a town that says, "It's just baseball."

Fix it, Daisuke.

Spooked

Forgive me for this rant, but all the news that supporters of Proposition 8 are gaining ground has really freaked me out. Like, really.

I don't personally know anyone who lives in California, except my dad's younger sister, but I'm not sure how to broach the subject with her--however I am hopeful she's opposed to Proposition 8. Anyway, I am almost more worried about whether or not California--the alleged haven of liberal hippies--amends their constitution to ban the gay marriages it just legalized than I am about whether or not Sarah (motherfucking) Palin becomes this country's first female vice president.

Listen. The California Supreme Court's decision on gay marriage was, like, fucking landmark, okay? Because it equated a person's sexuality with her race or gender or religion. Just as the governments of this country cannot discriminate against people based on those things, neither can they discriminate against people based upon their sexuality. That's what the legality of gay marriage is about: stamping out discrimination against one group of people for something that is as unchangeable as race or gender--and as little of the government's business as religious beliefs.

I just do not understand how, in this country, where one of our most prized founding documents proclaims all men created equal, there are so many fucking people who think it's perfectly fine--no, not just fine, but necessary--to make sure certain American citizens are relegated to permanent second-class status. This is not about whether you think butt sex is a sin. This is not about the "sanctity of marriage." That doesn't exist--and it never has. Why are we pretending that marriage is sacred? That people don't cheat and divorce and all that? I mean, ideally, sure, marriages are supposed to be lifelong and monogamous, but that is just not the reality, and it never has been. Humans are fallible. So that argument, as I am the child of divorced parents, too, really chaps my ass. All of these arguments are strictly religious--it's not the government's business how you have sex or whether you're faithful to your spouse, so--I don't know--shut up! This is not about forcing churches to marry two dudes or two ladies. That's the great thing about this country--you can believe in whatever you want to believe in. You, as a private citizen. But the government of the United States of America (and its individual state governments) can only believe in one thing: equal rights, privileges, and responsibilities for every, single one of its law-abiding citizens. Every. Single. One.

Marriage is not something that can only exist between a man and a woman. Marriage is for any two consenting adults who have decided to make a lifelong commitment to each other. And if a government awards special rights and responsibilities for heterosexual couples who make that choice then it absolutely must accord those same rights to homosexual couples who make the same choice.

That's all there is to it.

So let's go, California. Shoot down Proposition 8, and keep the gay rights movement moving forward instead of seventy-billion steps backward.

PS: Congratulations, Connecticut!

Red Sox ranting

That is it, internet. Josh Beckett and I are so over. I mean, I could forgive the rocky start against the Angels--he'd been injured; he hadn't pitched in a while--but this mess Saturday night against the Rays? Eight earned runs? That is not Josh Beckett pitching. And it certainly is not Josh Beckett post-season pitching. Thank god Daisuke was on fire Friday night. Thank god Jon Lester is pitching today. And I sure do hope Wakefield's knuckleball is workin' tomorrow. I'd rather not have Josh Beckett pitch game 6 at Tropicana Field. Yeah. I don't want that at all.

I am super, super bummed my imaginary husband Mike Lowell has that effed-up hip keeping him off the ALCS roster. But oh I am so happy that my new imaginary boyfriend Dustin Pedroia smashed himself out of his post-season hitting slump. Two fucking home runs! Too bad they ultimately went to waste.

I must be honest, internet--I am kind of shocked the Red Sox are doing this well. Something is just not right about this team--all the injuries, I guess, are spooking me. Plus, it'll be hard to win the World Series with only two reliable starting pitchers.

Joshua Patrick Beckett, you get your act together right now!

Getting back into television

So I didn't say anything about the premiere of Grey's, because...I had other things on my mind, and there weren't nearly enough of the lesbians. However, I adored the way Hahn snapped Callie out of her self-doubt free-fall during the hypothermia therapy thing. They're good for each other.

This week was, like, so much better, mostly because there were a bunch of scenes showing the doctors, you know, interacting like friends again. Like at the lunch table when Alex smacks Cristina to test her pain threshold and then does it to Izzie in the elevator. And Callie throwing grapes at Sloane for teasing Erica! I love it all! Oh, and then when Cristina and Callie are bonding over their new apartment, and Izzie loses her mind. Like, it kind of sucks to be Izzie, but Callie and Cristina's faces were so hilarious. Plus, the way Izzie told her about the apartment was so vague, I don't blame Cristina for thinking that Izzie was doing her a favor. It's kind of retarded that she didn't just say, "Hey, I found this place, I need a roommate, what do you think?" But it allowed for that funny scene at the bar, so hooray! Plus, Izzie's not homeless, so I don't have to feel bad!

The good thing about the lesbians these days is that they are talking to each other. Erica freaks out about Sloane, and Callie tells her why he knows. She freaks out about Callie telling him things, tells Callie she doesn't understand it, so Callie explains. How mother-effin' mature! I really like that the only functional relationship on this show is the gay one. I give it two more weeks tops before it falls apart.

Sometimes I hate you, Grey's Anatomy.

Lesbians and language--my two greatest loves

Hey, lesbians, you know that scene in But I'm a Cheerleader when Graham and Megan finally kiss? (By the way, doesn't anyone else think Graham's root should be the fact that her parents named her Graham?) And they're all fighting, because Megan freaked out about seeing Sinead grope Graham, and blah blah, and Graham goes, "You want me to do what I want?" And Megan says, "I could care less!" And then kissing! And it's supposed to be the big romantic climax, right?

Every time I hear her say, "I could care less!" I get taken right out if. I can't even focus on the girlkissing!

It's "couldn't care less," because if you could care less, my friend, that means you at least care a little. But if you can't care less, why then, you simply don't care! Right, Pierre?

Angry and boring part eleventy thousand

Here are some totally boring pet peeves of mine:

I hate whatever fool decided that numerals in titles of things precede the letter A when lists of titles are being alphabetized. That is ridiculous. The numerals always have a corresponding lettered form, you know? So. The 40-Year-Old Virgin goes where, children? Where does it go?

With the Fs. Next.

I also hate the notion that anyone would alphabetize their collection of books by title. Like, no. It has to be organized alphabetically by author. What a mess it would be otherwise! Um, mostly this bugs me because whenever I log in to librarything, my collection is organized by title, and the titles that have numbers in them are first, and then I have to fix it myself. Stupid! You would think the one place that could get this right is a website full of crazy-ass booknerds. Sigh.

OMG, did you know that if you google "since you went away" grey's anatomy song my stupid blog is the first thing that comes up? Just in case my stupid blog didn't help you find your answer, intrepid googler from Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, (sometimes I love Canada) the song's "What Can I Say" by Brandi Carlile. You're welcome! Wee!

You can literally register to vote while you're pooping

HollywoodDeclaresThemselves
by declareyourself

Look, I could register to vote on November 4 if I had to, because New Hampshire is crazy, but apparently, the rest of the states in this fine nation have deadlines. So hop to. Register. Vote. This country is a disaster, and the only way we have to fix it is voting. So let's go. Let's make some god damn changes.

There is one thing I hate more than Republicans: outright apathy toward our country's, toward the world's future.

Also, Sarah Silverman made me laugh, like, three times in this video, so I had to post it, since I'm pretty sure the three people who read this are all set for November 4. Also, is Tobey Maguire's head too big for his body or what?

Not as good as Fenway, but I'll take it

Oh, internet! I finally got to see a Blue Jays game! Their last home game of the season, in fact! I have impeccable timing, and I decided to show up in Toronto on the exact day the Blue Jays were finishing their season. So I insisted that Allison take me to the Rogers Centre, and she was very obliging, and she didn't even yell at me when I got up to get the beer and then realized I'd spent more of my Canadian Monopoly money than I'd realized because of course I bought a super sweet hat with the old Jays logo on it as soon as we entered the dome. (It's so weird to watch a baseball game in a dome, by the way. Even with the roof open, it feels like you're inside--in fact, what it reminded me of was the University of Syracuse's gym where I got to see two games of the men's NCAA tournament a million years ago.) But it was so fun--I sure do love watchin' a baseball game in real life. And now I've been to one tenth of all the Major League Baseball stadiums!

Even better? The Jays totally murdalized the Yankees. Suck it, Yankees.

Emily Saliers

And now we're talking about a difficult thing
and your eyes are getting wet
but I took us for better
and I took us for worse
and don't you ever forget it

Equal parts horrifying and hilarious

"Blair is wearing a cape, with a little black velvet twist at the throat, and looks more than ever like the headmistress of a shady Home for Victorian Waifs where they beat you with sticks for taking off your clothes to bathe, and sell you to a fat man when you turn fifteen. Tell me you don't think that's an ideal job for Blair Waldorf." --Jacob, Television Without Pity

"Every morning, when Alaskans wake up, one of the first things they do, is look outside to see if there are any Russians hanging around. And if there are, you gotta go up to them and ask, 'What are you doing here?' and if they can't give you a good reason, it's our responsibility to say, you know, 'Shoo! Get back over there!'" --Tina Fey as Sarah Palin, Saturday Night Live

So much better than fetch

Sarah Warn is a genius:

"I think the name 'Tina Fey' should become shorthand for smart, feminist, lesbian-inclusive behavior. As in, 'Donating money to fight Prop. 8 is so Tina Fey.'

"It could even be used in reverse — as in, 'Voting for Sarah Palin is so not Tina Fey.'"

Is it too late to move to California?

Meatballs

No, I Can't Put It in Your Butt

An ode, of sorts, to Tina Fey and Amy Poehler:

Whenever things in my life seem shitty, these betches have always, always been able to make me forget my troubles for at least a few minutes.

Standing up for Hillary Clinton, ripping apart Sarah Palin, making fun of Martians, telling fart jokes, jumping around on one leg, jumping around on one leg and farting, being hot (as above), imitating Cathy from the cartoon Cathy, the existence of the film Mean Girls, making fun of the Bush twins, gayin' it up for their legions of lady fans (as above). I could probably go on, but I will not.

This might be melodramatic or whatever, but I don't know if I could deal with the things I'll have to deal with without these betches to pick me up once in a while. They're hilarious, they're smart, they're beautiful, and there's no one like them. Also, I mean, wouldn't they make the perfect comedic lesbian couple in some movie? Tina, work your magic.

In conclusion... Pit bulls don't have wallets, dang!