momentous things are occurring

Momentous, I tell you!

First of all, despite a couple of hiccups--like that Red Sox game that shall never be spoken of again--Ubaldo has reached numero quince. Say it with me: KEEEEEN-say. Doesn't that sound good? Sadly, Mr Jhoulys Chacin, Ubaldo's fellow Rockies pitching staff member, has been demoted from starter to long relief, a role he sucked at on his first try. So, (as I said) sadly I had to dump him, and just after I finally learned how to pronounce the boy's name. There's just no real utility in holding onto a long reliever, as far as I can see. I will miss his Ks, however. But! Since I know that some of you, by which I mean "all", don't care as much about the Colorado Rockies as I do, let's move on to something else momentous.

I have this particular dress in my closet. I haven't been able to fit into it since 2004, but unlike the rest of my clothes that particular size, I haven't given it away or donated it. Primarily because I have very fond memories of wearing it to a particular event in the summer of 2003, and I am *such* a chick about such things. I try to suppress this tendency towards imbuing certain objects with sentimental meaning because AS YOU KNOW that way leads to ruin, and an appearance on Hoarders. But this dress I kept. It's a black sheath, square-necked, thin straps, just to the knee, and very fitted. It's a Joan Holloway kinda dress, okay? Last night when I was getting ready to go to bed,and thus looking at myself nekkid in the mirror and thinking about, y'know, joining a gym, I got it into my head to try on that dress and see how close I was to being able to zip it. As motivation to actually start lifting weights, not just thinking/talking/typing about it. Or something. You see where this story is going, right? Not only could I zip it, it actually fit. Sweet Mary, mother of god. I was shocked. (There goes the gym motivation.) Now, there are two problems. The first is that I no longer have the lifestyle in which I have any reason to wear this dress. This is a dress to wear, if not to the same function I last wore it, to a nice restaurant and then later be zipped out of by a handsome gentleman. It is Teh Sex. The second is that this dress has been living its life for the past six years in the spare closet next to a fuzzy angora sweater which I also no longer wear (that one's been too big!) and it is covered with fuzz by osmosis. I mean *covered*. The tag says dry clean only--it's cotton but it's lined--and I think if I take it to my friendly local dry cleaner, they will laugh at me and ask whether I really think the dry cleaning process will get that off. I suppose maybe if I spend about three hours of quality time with a lint brush, or a roll of duct tape, first. Nevertheless! Momentous!

And, finally? As some of you know already, I got a new phone last night, and thus will no longer be mockable. For that reason, anyway. I.like.it. I still do not have the internet in my pants, 'cause I ain't paying for a data plan, plus I think the internet in my pants is a bad, bad idea, but if you text me now, I can actually text you back. Easily. Welcome to 2005, Andrea!

Now, I gotta go, because I have more work to do. Let's hope this publishes, 'cause I've been writing it all damn morning.

xoxo