what a night of highs and lows. from kick-ass awesome to incredibly lame. (me, not the night.)
started out with the yankee game with james. (i like pronouncing it "jankee" like miguel cairo.) superfun - we spent the first 8 1/2 innings watching baseball and talking about gay things, like project runway and the rampant homoeroticism of the two drunk guys in front of us, and gay baseball things, like cute jankees, how ichiro suzuki is kinda swishy, and how jason giambi bears a striking spiritual resemblance to james' cat. there was also a half inning devoted to how dippin' dots really are the ice cream of the future, and how that future is now.
then, around 9:45, the promised "scattered thunderstorms" rolled in, scattering themselves all up in our baseball, whatever the hell that means. the mariners were up 4-2 (check that fancy sport talk), bottom of the ninth, and the skies opened up just in time for a jankees rally. plenty of lame people had already left after the 8th, because it's so unlikely for the yankees to come back from that score, right? so things were a little sparse, but when in started raining, it was incredible. the closest thing i can think of is a really amazing badass rock concert. everyone standing and screaming and soaking wet. every thunder clap or lightning bolt met with a roar from the crowd. really glad i was wearing rubber flip-flops. it was amazing.
and then, when it's tied 4-4, they call a rain delay. we hung around for about half an hour, watched The Story of Mariano Rivera on the jumbotron, and then made our squishy way to the train.
at home we catch the end of the game, (a win after a 2-hour wait.), and start getting ready for bed. but before we make it, though, i notice phineus stalking something under the blanket pile. (during the winter it's the "air conditioner tower," and a great cap nat spot. summer it's a pile of blankets on the floor.) he's got a paw under the blankets, and i walk over to investigate, when a cockroach the size of my head runs out from under the blankets and heads straight into my room. great.
i scream something embarrassing like "blargh! cockroach! waah!" and grab some paper towels and shove them in james' hand. "cockroach! cockroach! move faster!" because whenever i have a fit about a cockroach (we've had two others in the apartment in the past two years), james goes into glacial molasses mode, as if it's not deathly urgent to get the bug before it skitters into my bed.
so of course by the time james moseys into my room the bug's already gone. after the initial girl-fit, i'm surprisingly calm, but i still very much want the bug to be found and killed and gone. james can't find it, but phineus & meg are nosing around a pile of cd cases next to my desk. (and i'm berating myself for not keeping a totally clutter-free, and thus bug-hiding-place-free, floor.) i hop onto my bed (can't have bugs running over our feet now!) and watch the kittens find the bug under the cd's, chase it under my desk, and then under the bed. for some reason the kittens don't follow it, but stake it out the edges, ready for it to try to make a break. like that'll work. but they don't really know what they're doing - this is their first big game. before this it's only been feathers attached to sticks, and that one lightning bug phineus de-winged in june.
there i am, all teeth-brushed and on my bed, and most definitely not setting foot to floor, so i call out to james. "i need a favor." (reluctant pause.) "it's not killing the bug." i explain the situation, calmly, and ask him to kindly turn off my light & shut the door so i can go to bed without risking floor & bug exposure. i do this with full knowledge of what a pussy i am. he does, i go to bed, have only one dream in which i think the cat on my bed is actually a cockroach on my chest, and in the morning find that the cats have actually made a kill, and i have a dead cockroach next to my desk chair. and you know that thing's staying exactly where it is till i can get james to throw it out for me tonight.