Or some of them, like me, may be too delighted to sleep.  (I had a chance to be there in person tonight, but Work reared its ugly head, and I reluctantly decided to act like an adult.  In retrospect, not my best call)  Regardless, Melvin Mora is my new bestest buddy.  I think maybe I will send him this.  And while this guy has never been a favorite of mine, I’m certainly not going to forget his three-run triple against Mariano Rivera in the bottom of the ninth.  Thank you, Baltimore Orioles!

The last time I was here, the woman from whom I bought my lemonade actually called me “Hon,” so apparently, Baltimoreans really do that.  This place is worth a visit, also.  And while we are on the subject, here is a fun book set in Baltimore. 

I wanted to like this book more than I actually did.  Certainly, it is trying to send a worthwhile message.  I have no idea whether it was ghost-written, or if Jenna Bush actually did write it herself–but, whichever was the case, it doesn’t quite work.  This review struck me as being quite even-handed–and accurate.

I have many good friends who are Mets fans.  They are having a tough week.  But, it ain’t over ’til it’s over.  Cole Hamels threw a beauty tonight, though.  (yes, I confess, I was watching 4 games simultaneously, wildly flipping from channel to channel)

This analysis of the latest Democratic debate is sort of interesting.  Right now, I still only see one President standing up there–albeit a much too cautious one, along with one future President.  But, Mr. Robinson is right–maybe not entirely from a policy perspective, but definitely insofar as feeling that it’s time for the leading candidates to–well–lead.

Yes, it is true.  And so, I may seem wicked boring, because I talk a lot about sports.  Ergo, I think I will write an entire post without mentioning sports at all.  No observations about sports.  No bitter remarks about sports.  Nothing whatsoever, in any way, shape or form about–yes, you guessed it–sports.

Even though, today I found out that the New England Patrio–no.  I will be strong.  And I will not discuss sports.  At all.

I have been reading God’s Harvard, even though parts of it have made me wake up screaming in the night.  No, wait, I have actually been sleeping poorly because the god-damn Red So–oops!  I almost slipped there, but recovered just in time.  Whew.  Anyway, here’s an interesting exchange about the book between the author and a columnist.  I am, I confess, something of a secular humanist, and if you say the word “religion” to me, I picture this and this.  Which makes me horribly one-dimensional, and–dare I say it–close-minded.  So, I would rather imagine this, or, perhaps, this.  Or this, which I adore.  Also, I found this book very sensible, although I don’t necessarily agree with everything Mr. Wallis believes.  But I respect the fact that he wants to talk about these issues in an inclusive sort of way.

Now, some people might argue than it is a religion to root for the Boston Red S–goodness me!  I almost did it again!  My bad.

Only a very shallow person would be eager to see this, and I also can’t wait for this new show, about which I hear excellent things.  Plus, the very under-rated Molly Price is in it, which is more than enough reason to tune in, if you ask me.  I think it was highway robbery that she never won an Emmy for playing Faith Yokas.  She may be the only actress in the history of network television who ever had the nerve to shun vanity, and look and act like a real cop–with the exception of Betty Thomas, on my beloved Hill Street Blues.  I hope that entire series is released soon, but you can get the first two seasons, at least.

Sharing the details of one’s meals is the height of banality, no doubt, but I went out to a Sri Lankan restaurant tonight (I am normally quite prompt, but I was disgracefully late to meet my pal–who was very kind about my social faux pas), and among other dishes, we had this, and it was completely excellent.  In fact, I think I will cook up a batch of my own tomorrow, although I will probably add extra onions, and maybe–because I’m wacky and bold and have no respect for authenticity or rules–a chipotle pepper or two.

If you want a giggle, check this, or maybe this, out.  (Full disclosure:  my sister is Juliana McKannis.)

And, this still cracks me up, too.

So, when the hell does Melinda Doolittle’s first CD come out, anyway?

Did someone, perhaps, forget to mention this small detail to the Team Making New England Weep lately?  And why would a first-place club, with a good-sized lead, suddenly decide to tank the end of the season, and go for the wild-card, instead?  My father sent me this today, but I remained surly and unhappy, despite his best efforts.  Maybe I will put on one of my favorite shirts tomorrow, in an attempt to cheer up.

I cruelly said to a Yankees fan today, “Well, you know, when it comes to sports teams, the Yankees aren’t exactly The Little Engine That Could.”  That was snide of me.  But, it’s been a hard week, and I’ve scarcely been able to work–or eat–or sleep.  (Note to self–maybe it’s time to find a new damn hobby.)  If you ask me, with a bench full of All-Stars backing up other All-Stars, it’s only news if the Yankees don’t go 162-0 every season.

Which is not to say that this guy isn’t special–because he is.  If you don’t enjoy watching him play, you’re not a baseball fan.  

(taken at a recent game)

And here’s another wonderful athlete.

But, this  guy?  No.  He’s having a season for the ages–but, no.  Absolutely not.  Even though I have a sick, sad feeling that this may happen during the off-season.

Enough of the team I routinely call The Evil Ones.  Instead, we should celebrate my Best Boy.  I may even buy his book.  (where do I stand, insofar as the scandal is concerned?  Dismayed, bereft–and yet quite certain that the punishment far exceeds the crime.)

More about that on another day, I suspect.