oh blog. t-minus 30(?) days until i return to you. more or less.

you are invited to thanksgiving, fyi.

dear blog,

how are you? i feel bad for not writing you lately.  i am sorry.  no, i have not abandoned you.  i got this thing called ‘busy.’ maybe you’ve heard of it. i don’t recommend it.  but i’m happy about it.  how was the fashion show?  i hope it was good.  i haven’t seen you around lately so maybe you’re out having fun and conquering the runway world.

i hope to see you soon.  and to write more of you.

peaches,

-wells

blog: wells! wells! wells!

me: what’s up blog?

blog: wells…i’m gonna be famous!

me: really? doing what?

blog: i’m gonna be a model!

me: srsly?

blog: totally! i was hangin out at the mall yesterday and this man walked up to me and said that he was an agent for a modeling firm and that he wanted me—me!—to be the next top model.  well, the next top model for his agency, not for the tv show—that would be weird and you’d never believe me.

me: um…blog…i don’t if i believe you anyway: you’re a blog, you don’t exist outside the interconnect—how exactly are you gonna put clothes on and waddle down a runway?

blog: don’t exist outside the interconnect? wha? that’s never exactly stopped me before…

me: i suppose. should we get a dinner to celebrate?

blog: NO! i gotta keep my fine form. i am one sexy bundle of blogospheric hot-assness.

me: yipes.

now that the cleveland indians have decided to trade their one legitimate star to philadelphia for what appears to be an 18 year old class a minor league player on the disabled list(!), i think it’s time to endorse, root for and get all excited/teary eyed about a new team.

trading cliff lee=bad idea

trading cliff lee for a mediocre child with a boo-boo=performing an appendectomy on yourself, at home, sober, with a butter knife.

so then, who to claim now?

option 1:

ah! my childhood favorites.  the big red machine! johnny bench, pete rose, eric davis, chris sabo, rob dibble—these were the names that ran through my head as i ran my first bases.  and they won a world series! that i watched! in four straight games!

of course, they’ve sucked since that world series, perenially hanging out towards the bottom of the division.  and their name is kinda silly.  and their uniforms have always been a little silly.  and they play in a place called the great american ballpark, and that’s just plain silly.  and they’re in cincinnati, which beats columbus, but, really, what am i gonna do after seeing a game—visit the creationist museum? maybe if pete rose finally gets allowed back into baseball and attempts a bret favre-ian comeback career, we’ll talk.

option 2:

considering that i’ve left the browns for the steelers and danced a little jig when the penguins took the cup, maybe i should move all my allegiences to the pittsburgh.  except i’m not even sure people in pittsburgh root for the pirates.  they’re like the sand at the bottom of the pond that bottom dwellers dwell upon.

and that’s a shame, cause they have the best name (if one of the worst logos) of all major league baseball teams.  if they only had a real pirate’s panache, they might be able to steal a win occaisonally.  unfortunately, they only thing these fellas can pirate is their cable, and they’re probably not even capable of that.

option 3:

yeah, they’re bad.  real bad.  stinkosaurus rex bad. but there’s something really reassuring about that: they’re consistent, you know what you’re getting.  they’re the long ball equivalents of roger corman flicks: you know they’re gonna be awful, but that’s where the pleasure is.  but really, can i handle the badness day in and day out? probably not.

option 4:

if you’re gonna sell out, you might as well sell out.  and they have c.c.! i’m still not over c.c.. he’s interstellar spectacular.

but…

it’s the yankees! could i sleep with myself if gave myself over the dark side? just how immoral have i become lately?

option 5:

the cubbies! i’ve probably watched more cubs games than all other teams’ games combined on account of WGN airing every damn game they played and mostly starting right when i got home from school.  i’d cozy up on the bed of my grandmother’s room and turn on the tube and listen as harry carey tested the speakers yelling about high fly balls going going it’s outta here homerun! cubbies win! cubbies win! and wrigley is just so damn beautiful, like a super classy italian model.

but here’s the thing: if i’m giving up on the indians out of frustration, it might not be the best thing for my heart to choose the numbero uno most frustrating team in the history of game.  the cubs break hearts like the women in country music songs: often, throroughly, and they steal your pets to boot.

but wrigley’s soooo beautiful! hmmmm…

option 6:

i have too many friends that profess a love for the sox.  i don’t want to give those friends the satisfaction of having me on their side.  friends should root against each other, always.

plus, they traded manny.

which brings us to—

option 7:

they have manny! and joe torre! but i have never forgiven them for leaving brooklyn.

out of ideas:

this is much too complicated.

“to get back my youth I would do anything in the world, except take exercise, get up early, or be respectable.”

-oscar wilde

I have dranken

the ballantines

that were in

the fridge

and which

you were probably

saving

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so cheap

and so cold