True Love + Baseball

Here’s the thing, I really love my boyfriend.

A lot.

I love him so much, that when he said, “all I want for my birthday is to go to the Mariners game and dinner!” I figured, suuuuure, why not? They suck (sorry, Ms) BUT I am always game for a $9 beer and some stadium popcorn.

Has anyone else noticed that I get popcorn everywhere I go? I won’t dive into the Trader Joe’s caramel popcorn that I eat half a bag at a time in my car because that makes it ok.

Plus, Boyfriend has been studying for his PE test a lot. So much that it didn’t matter what we did as long as it was something other than me cooking, cleaning and watching NCIS (even though I am ob-sessed). (HashtagActingLikeaHousewife)

If you are from the NW, you are likely very aware of the torrential rain we had this past weekend. It rained, rained harder and then stormed.

I went all Girl Scouts and layered up in my Zella Live-In leggings, two pairs of tall socks, boots, pink plaid button-up under my chambray under my black vest with a puffy hood under my men’s North Face used-to-be-waterproof jacket.

Plus, I had several packages of hand warmers, gloves, a scarf and fleece blanket on my person.

And when we went to leave my building, an older lady (my building has three type of people: older ladies, older gents and students) stopped us and said, “you know, I am going to a game myself how did you dress?”

So I told her.

Then she said, “it’s not like it’s that cold out.”

Um, thanks lady. It might not be “that” cold, but I am guessing that if you went with jeans and a sweatshirt, you might GET cold. Didn’t your mom teach you how to dress for the rain here? Did they even have rain in your day? Gah.

At that moment, this happened:


“It’s raining, babe.” – Boyfriend

Do you SEE THAT? My parking lot IS A LAKE. There were actual RIVERS rushing down the sidewalk during our trek (5 blocks) to the bus stop. At one point I vaguely remember yelling, “WATER IN THE BOOT” but my memory is blurred from the trauma.

Of course, by the time we actually got downtown, Boyfriend’s jeans were sopping and I was all, “I’m not affected by this because I layered well.”

We made it to the eighth inning before we had to leave to meet friends for dinner – and you’d never believe it, the Ms WON.

Since we were celebrating Boyfriend’s birthday, he was the sober-driver. By the end of the night, we found ourselves at a dive bar walking distance from his casa that I have deemed the best dive bar in the history of dive bars. It looks like a tiny barn from the outside but you walk in and it’s all hipsters and Cougars and single old men drowning their sorrows.


Naturally, I locked on to the gianormous poster that said, “HOME OF DAVE SHEA, FIREBALL’S BARTENDER OF THE MONTH” And when the bartender walked up and the guys ordered their ales or something normal, I was all, “ohmygod, are you?!” ::dramaticpauseforeffect:: “DAVE SHEA???

Now, Boyfriend is used to my dramatic antics, weird comments and odd sense of humor that I swear usually only makes sense to me, and this time was no different. He was gawking at me with this weird why-did-I-agree-to-this look that he followed up with a, “do you know him?” (I always run into people I know, maybe it’s a Seattle thing or maybe it’s a I’m-too-friendly thing. Who knows?)

Didn’t know him. His picture was on the poster. Duh.

Obviously my new bartender friend and I telepathically decided to be BFs (barfriends, patent pending) and we were off to the Fireball races.

Since the idea of shooting anything gives me the phantom-gags (verb.; a vomit-like reflex caused by the thought of something; Tequila shots give me the phantom-gags) I sipped on Fireball and decided that my next at-home party-project should be Fireball-soaked cinnamon gummy bears.

If you’re like me, you just thought to yourself, oh-em-genius.

And if you’re my Mom, you’re planning an intervention.

Laundry: Reserved for Marriage

What’s going on right now? Well, let me tell you. My boyfriend (after a superficial conversation with one of my favorite satirist, I have decided to go back to boyfriend over manfriend) is studying for the Professional Engineering Test. And when he’s done studying, he studies a little bit more, eats a snack and then logs his hours. The man uses Excel in his personal life as much as I do at work. Respect.

Anyhow, with all of this studying pulling from the usual stream of attention slash annoying me, I have gotten to spend my free time at my condo, not going to the gym and taking baths.

Oh, and cooking for him because quote, “I am going to need you to make me lots of food while I am studying. I need to eat.” And so I do, because when he passes this test I can quit my job and focus on things like going to JoAnn Fabrics. (Ya right.)

Also note, I do these things with a big, fat smile on my face.

Last weekend I got up early, like 930, on a Sunday. I was zombie-walking around with bed head, coffee and morning breath being all sorts of attractive and eventually found myself trolling Pinterest. Y’know, the usual. I was making use of my Sunday and had no immediate plans to shower.

And then, this happened. I was focused in all of my laziness and Boyfriend says, “Can you help me do laundry today? I really need to do laundry and get six hours of studying in and it would be super helpful.”

There was a really long pause combined with a stare down, followed by me saying, “Are you serious?”

Yeah, I said that. Because I have guidlelines! Standards! We aren’t married. We don’t live together. I have my own laundry, and you don’t see him coming over to fold it for me when I have been bouncing all over the country from one thing to the next. First it’s laundry, then it’s cleaning his house, and before you know it I’m like a part-time wife without the medical benefits or access to his bank account. Besides, it’s important to save something for marriage, it gives them something to really look forward to, and a reason to put a ring on it.

So here we are, me ranting and you finding yourself thinking, “did she do it?”

But we both know I did it. Was there really ever a question in your mind? I turned on ABC Family (for the remainder of the day) and did laps between the couch and the dryer. (And thank you, ABC Family for the Kristen Bell marathon!)

Then I made dinner.