That was an exceptionally cold night at the ballpark last night. Tim Lincecum on the mound, sadly got his first loss of the season. I’m pretty sure that ump blew that call on the balk, but it’s hard to tell from the center field bleachers, you know. It’s all OK, though, because at least I got to go to the game. Also, I got to yell at some Dodgers’ fans. Seriously, the Giants were playing the Rockies. Where’d the Dodger-blues come from? AB got a kick out of some of my random baseball utterances. “Run you slow slow slow . . . .little man!”

You know what’s really hard? Sending text messages when you hands are frozen solid. But I managed, and I have to say, I’m becoming much more of a fan of text messaging and picture mail. Especially when I get random ones in the middle of the night that make absolutely no sense from what I can only assume are very drunk friends. I hope some day to get one that is actually important, something along the lines of “water broke. baby coming.”

Anyway, by the time the game was over, my feet were completely numb. It’s so weird to walk around like that, and to have to assume that you’re touching the ground. When I got home, I went right into the shower to try to warm up. Went to bed around midnight. Woke up at 1:35 by random text messages. Two within a minute from two different friends. Then continued waking myself up every other hour for no apparent reason all night long.

I’m tired. I’m crabby. My throat is a little sore from the hollering.

Monday I’m going to an A’s game. Crazy.

Crazy Single Girl Life

Last night I had a meeting at a Lucky 13 with Pedro, and we discussed our plan for world domination, the soccer team we’re going to buy, and doing rails off of prostitutes asses in dressing rooms. I don’t want to put the cart before the horse, so I’ll write more about this when I’m actually officially in the band. Oops, did I just let that cat out of the bag?

Oh – funny side note, since I’m on the health kick, and I’m not drinking, I ordered a cranberry juice at the bar. I was sitting for a while, waiting, and there was another guy there sitting by himself. After a few minutes, this guy turns to me, and goes, “Excuse me, did you really just walk into a bar and order a cranberry juice?” What an ass cheese! So, I replied, “Yes! It’s both refreshing and healthy.” He didn’t really know what to do with that, so he just went back to crying in his beer, or whatever it is that ass cheese does.

Anyway, I was pretty amped up after meeting Pedro, and on the way home, I remembered that one of Baby Brother’s bands, Monster Pete and the Chiefs, was playing. I couldn’t remember where it was exactly, so I gave him a call. Hotel Utah in The City. I hopped on the freeway in Oakland, and I was there in about 15 minutes. (Gotta love living in Oakland.)

It’s been a long long time since I did something so impulsive and spontaneous. It was awesome. And I got to go out and see Baby Brother, and have a nice chat with him. And Monster Pete tore it up. I didn’t stay up too too late. I left right after the set, and was home by 11:30. By the time I loaded the CD Pedro gave me onto my iPod, flossed, and climbed into bed, it was maybe 12:10. I passed out. No insomnia last night.

When I woke up this morning, I had three picture mails, and a text on my phone that I had gotten in the middle of the night.

There’s a lot of little things that I didn’t realize I had let go of over the last few years, but now I’m getting back to myself. And myself, I am the girl whose life revolves around music, and who decides at the last minute that I want to go see that band, and I love when my friends reach out to me at all hours, just to say ‘hi’ and share some randomness with me.

And yes, Cam, those are some crazy mad props!