A Game After My Own Heart

A Stapling Jello reader sent me this link to a game that I think I should get.

It's a trivia game about all of my favorite things -- chocolate, candy, cookies, snacks, ice cream and desserts!

I feel a themed party coming on....

Happy Birthday, Big Sister

This story came to me out of the blue a month or so ago, but I saved it especially for today, my sister Jennifer's 34th birthday.

Happy Birthday, big sis.

When we were little, we had neighbors with a daughter Jen's age, and the two girls were best friends. They were together all the time...until they were in sixth grade, and our neighbors moved to Massachusetts. But Jen and her friend, Dani, remained close.

At some point, Dani came to visit and caught the eye of a young man named John Hall, an old classmate who was still a classmate of Jen's. John wasn't the most attractive guy, or the nicest, from what I recall, so the fact that he had a crush on Dani became fodder for Jen to make fun of him. Using her musical talent and creative energy, she composed a rap -- yes, a rap -- which was a love letter from John to Dani.

Lucky for Jen, I have a fantastic memory for lyrics and no problem sharing said lyrics here. It's no "Baby Got Back," but it's no worse than most of the stuff that came out in the 80s.

Ladies and gentlemen, The John and Dani Rap.

This is my rap, 'bout a gal named Danielle
She's the rapinest babe of which I ever did tell
And I hope she hears my rap; I pray that she do,
So if you're listening, babe, this bud's for you.

My dearest Danielle, I just wrote to say,
I gotta ask you a question, and this is the day.
I just need to know how you feel about me.
Is there a lock in my heart to which you hold the key?

Do you think I'm cute? Would you say I'm a fox?
Will you accept a ring in a little black box?
Will you give me your love, every bit you can spare?
If you do, I'll cuddle up and I'll be your teddy bear.

I wanna hold you tight, spend every Christmas with you.
And do all the things a boy and girlfriend do.
Do you think I'm sexy? Do you like my bod?
I hope you're impressed, 'cause I've been working real hard.

I wanna prove myself, show you that I'm true.
And I swear, someday, I'm gonna marry you.
I hope you write back; as for me, that's all.
I'll count the minutes till I hear from you -- love, John Hall.

(then Dani responds)

Yo, John, I was listening, and I heard your rap.
It was very sweet, but John, you're too much of a sap.
I wish you wouldn't call me babe. I hope you can dig.
'Cause I just can't see myself cuddlin' up to a pig.

As impressin' me goes, and workin' hard, I say huh
'Cause you never lift a finger and you're such a duh.
I wish you could know, John, I wish you could see
Just how repulsive you are to girls like me.

You want me to marry you. I gotta laugh at that,
'Cause you see, Mr. John, you're just too fat.
So won't you leave me alone? You're really quite rude.
Signed, Dani. P.S. You can go back to your food.

Killing Time By Talking About Me

I saw this on someone else's blog and always like an opportunity to talk about me, even if it is just a stupid survey thing.

What's your name spelled backwards? akire

What did you do last night? Drank wine, ate pizza and made a cake. Don't bake after you've had three glasses of wine.

The last thing you downloaded onto your computer? I don't actually remember. Probably a photo.

Have you ever licked a 9 volt battery? I think a better question is, who has done this, and why?

Last time you swam in a pool? Summer 2001, but I swam in the Pacific Ocean in April. (I highly recommend it, Marla).

What are you wearing? Black slacks and a black and white striped tee shirt.

How many cars have you owned? I've driven several but only actually owned (i.e. bought and made payments on) two. The first was Phoebe, my 1998 Mazda Protege, who bravely gave her life to save mine in May 2003, and now I have Zoe Zoom-Zoom, a 2002 Mazda Protege, who is wonderful and kicks ass.

Type of music you dislike most? Hip hop. I'm not cool enough for it.

Are you registered to vote? Sure am.

Do you have cable? For now.

What kind of computer do you use? A crappy slow one at work, a crappy bare bones one at home. I'm saving for a laptop though.

Ever made a prank phone call? Yeah, but only to people who were expecting prank calls.

Would you go bungee jumping or sky diving? Nah, I'm not a thrill seeker.

Furthest place you ever traveled? I'm not sure of the mileage here, but I took a trip from Pennsylvania to England and Ireland and I also took a trip from Illinois to Maui. It's one of those.

What's your favorite comic strip? Pearls Before Swine, because there's a cute, dim-witted little pig in it.

Do you know all the words to the national anthem? I know the first verse.

Shower, morning or night? Morning.

Best movie you've seen in the past month? The Prizewinner of Defiance, Ohio

Favorite pizza toppings? onions and green peppers

Chips or popcorn? I'm not a big salty snack person, so it would depend on my mood that day.

What cell phone provider do you have? Cingular/AT&T

Have you ever smoked peanut shells? No, but I have thrown a few on the floor at restaurants that encourage that sort of behavior.

Have you ever been in a beauty pageant? No, but I have had dreams of being Mount Rose's American Teen Princess.

Orange Juice or Apple? Orange

Who were the last people you had lunch with? I mostly have lunch by myself...probably my husband.

Favorite chocolate bar? Snickers. Or just a regular Hershey bar along with some graham crackers and toasted marshmallow. Mmm. Smores.

Who is your longest friend and how long? Darcey -- first day of first grade, baby.

Last time you ate a homegrown tomato? No idea, but that sounds really good.

Have you ever won a trophy? I have! I got second place in my age group for a series of races I ran in 2004. Sure, there were only two people in my age group, but the other person was like a real runner, so I couldn't really compete with her anyway. I also got a trophy (second or third place, I forget) for a bean bag tournament, but I think we (my husband and I) just got it because we were among the last people playing beanbags that night. It wasn't really a well defined tournament.

Favorite arcade game? Skee ball.

Ever ordered from an infomercial? No, but I did a Magic Bullet as a wedding shower gift.

Sprite or 7-UP? I don't drink either one very often, so I have no preference.

Have you ever had to wear a uniform to school/work? I had a uniform when I worked at Friendly's and a smock when I worked at Greco's grocery store, but never anything for school.

Last thing you bought at Walgreens? I've no idea.

Ever thrown up in public? Oh yeah...when I was a little kid, I threw up on the steps of the Big Wrangler steakhouse. We hadn't even eaten there; we'd just walked in when I decided I had to throw up. Some old lady handed me a tissue, as if that would help. The place closed a few months later, but I don't think it had anything to do with me.

Would you prefer being a millionaire or finding true love? I've got true love, so right now, my priority is becoming a millionaire. If you only get one, I'll stick with the true love.

Do you believe in love at first sight? I believe in something like it, but I don't think people recognize it most of the time, or they think they do but don't.

Did you have long hair as a young kid? Sure did.

What message is on your voicemail machine? Nothing exciting, just the standard spiel. At least, that's if we're talking outgoing message. If we're talking incoming message, then nothing.

Where would you like to go right now? Home, to spend some quality time with my new couch and loveseat.

Whats the name of your pet? Ivan

What do you think about most? Stuff.

Musical Roles I'd Like To Play

Velma Kelly in Chicago -- Maybe it's all part of my secret desire to be Catherine Zeta-Jones, but also, I like the song "All That Jazz," and maybe I could learn how to dance.

Sally Bowles in Cabaret -- I can do a decent English accent, and I am, after all, a perfectly marvelous girl.

Janet in The Rocky Horror Show -- I don't actually like Rocky Horror all that much, but I do like the song "Touch-A Touch-A Touch Me."

Eva Peron in Evita -- I think it would be cool to play a real person, even though a musical is not exactly a vehicle for a realistic portrayal. But ever since I did a research paper on her in high school (and went to see the show as "research") I've liked this show. Plus I think I would look good wearing my hair in a bun and holding my arms up while I sang into a microphone.

Aldonza in Man of La Mancha -- Mostly I just want to be a part of this show, because I love it. I wouldn't really care if I didn't play the female lead, but there aren't that many female parts in this show. I wouldn't mind playing one of the women who sings "I'm Only Thinking Of Him." That's a good song.

Fruma Sarah in Fiddler On The Roof -- This was probably the first role I really saw and said yes, I must play her someday. Even before I actually started doing any acting at all. It's a pretty small part, so I have a better chance of playing her than any of the others on my list, because when it comes right down to it, I don't actually sing all that well.

How I Learned To Drive

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, the caregiver of the year and her soul mate of the road.

This evening, my husband and I were on our way home from picking up dinner, when, as we came to a halt at a stoplight, we saw a woman in the lane next to us jump out of her car.

"Hey!" she yelled to the driver of the car behind her, which happened to be right next to our car. "I've got kids in the car, asshole!"

The driver she'd yelled at gave back a bewildered, "okay, bitch," as the woman got back into her car.

"Funny," I commented to my husband. "Whatever he was doing was so bad that she had to protect those kids from his actions but didn't think twice about jumping out of her vehicle in the middle of a busy street and screaming obscenities in front of those kids."

As we continued down the road, the driver of the second car, obviously over the surprise of the woman screaming at him, began to taunt her by riding as close to her back bumper as possible. I was glad when we were able to pass them, because whatever happened, I didn't want to be caught in the middle of it.

It's a good thing, too, because a few seconds later, I heard a loud screech behind me. I looked in my rearview mirror, and the man's car had either hit or nearly hit the woman's. Curiously, the car in front of the woman's was several car lengths ahead, meaning that she had stopped suddenly on purpose so the man would either hit or nearly hit her.

What a fine example to set for those kids in her car.

We went home, ate dinner and cleaned up, and about half an hour later, I drove back down that same road to run an errand. By the side of the road were the woman's car, the man's car and a police car. I didn't see any obvious damage to either vehicle, but whatever happened and whoever called the police, I hope both the woman and the man were cited for reckless driving.

I completely understand road rage; I've had it myself. But I have never even been tempted to jump out of my vehicle to yell at another driver. It's dangerous and stupid. At best, all it accomplishes is giving someone else fodder to laugh at you, and possibly blog about you. But to feed the fire of someone who has screamed at you is just as bad. This woman was obviously a loose cannon; the man would have done better to simply get out of her lane.

Then again, maybe these two drivers deserve to be on the road together. Let them battle it out and leave the highways free for the rest of us, and for those kids in that woman's car. After the lesson they learned today, they're gonna need all the help they can get.

Perfect For The Job

At my first newspaper job, one of my duties was to type up and edit the letters to the editor. Most of them were incoherent rants that, had I been in charge, I'd never have printed, but unfortunately, those decisions weren't mine to make. So instead, I would simply read and laugh at the letters with anyone who would listen, most of the time a guy named Lou. Lou was, direct, shall we say, with his comments, never hesitating to say just what was on his mind. And his response to most of these letters was the same.

"Never underestimate people's power to be stupid."

How right he was. I could probably write a hundred blog entries about stupid people (and probably a hundred more about Lou, who was quite a character). However, today, I choose to focus on a story in which I am assumed to be the stupid one, which is both annoying and insulting.

A month or so ago, as I was updating my bank account, auto loan, credit cards, etc. with my new, married name. While I was at it, I figured I'd hit the staffing agencies and job search Web sites on which I'd posted my resume, so that when I'm ready to look for a new job, the information will already be current and correct. Had I known about the deluge of spam I would receive from one particular site, I might have removed my resume entirely.

Since I updated my information, I have received about five e-mail messages that might as well have "spam" in the subject line. The "job," according to the "employers," is transferring money from offshore bank accounts to theirs, via your own. You transfer the bulk of the money and keep a percentage. The take is bucketloads, and the only requirement for the job is a bank account.

Hey, I have a bank account. Sign me up, baby!

Really -- how stupid do these people think we are? Identity theft and internet crime have been discussed so much in the media that even people who can't think for themselves should certainly know by now that these operations are scams. Please -- money transfer via your bank account? Anyone who falls for that deserves to be ripped off.

I read an article this morning about a new scam in which a person receives an e-mail message from someone claiming to be a mafia hitman. The recipient of the message is next on his list for a hit, he says, but he'd be willing to call it off if the recipient pays him anywhere between $30,000 and $80,000. Hey, at least that one is creative, but according to the article, one of the messages reported to the FBI included personal contact information and names of family members. That is downright scary.

But for the most part, the thing that scares me is the fact that some people actually fall for these schemes. They really believe that a legitimate company wants to pay them top dollar to sit at home and transfer money, or they really believe that someone has ordered a hit on them. I don't know a lot about mobsters, but I'm pretty sure they don't just kill people for no reason, especially regular people.

There is a lesson to be learned in all of this, though. People will fall for anything! Why haven't I thought of an internet scheme that would trick people out of millions? Why have I ignored this fantastic opportunity for so long?

Guess I've just been stupid.

The Clue In The Mysterious Message

When I was younger, nothing in the world made me happier than books.

I loved to read, was always reading; in fact, I actually got books taken away from me as a punishment because I was reading instead of doing schoolwork. The characters in my books were like friends; I knew them so well, knew everything about them and couldn't wait to go on more adventures with them.

One of my favorite fictional pals was Nancy Drew.

I loved Nancy Drew books; I relished every one I read. I remember the first one I ever opened, "The Secret of the Wooden Lady," a hand-me-down from my mom or one of my aunts. I even remember my mom recommending Nancy Drew to me, telling me how much she'd once enjoyed reading them. I even played Nancy Drew on the elementary school playground with my (real live) friends Krista and Kelly. (I took the part of Nancy's friend George Fayne).

When I saw the previews for the new Nancy Drew movie recently, I couldn't help feeling nostalgic -- so nostalgic that on a visit to my local library, I found myself in the young adult section and chose two of the old mysteries to take home and read. They were just like I remembered. Sure, my reading tastes have evolved, but opening a Nancy Drew book was like stepping back into my childhood, if only for a little while, until I realized that while the books are the same, I am not.

Even when I was little, I recognized the dated quality of the books -- particularly some of the language (in one, George's favorite expression is "hypers," which even at age eight I would have found goofy) -- I'm not sure I fully grasped the ridiculousness of the whole thing when I was young. Back then, it didn't occur to me how weird it was that all the folks around town all the 18-year-old Nancy as an amateur sleuth or that she and her friends hardly ever called the police or that her father actually condoned her going into potentially deadly situations. Now, of course, I have a more realistic view.

But that doesn't mean I'm feeling any less nostalgic, especially after a mysterious phone call I received two days ago. I was on my way home from work when my cell phone rang. I fumbled for my phone but missed the call and ended up with an automated voice mail message from Emma Roberts, who plays Nancy Drew in the new movie. Whoever sent the message entered details about me on a Web site, provided my phone number and the system generated a "personalized" message for me. While it wasn't as cool as the automated Samuel L. Jackson message promoting last year's "Snakes On A Plane," this voice mail entertained me...but it perplexed me as well.

Who sent me this message? And why did they get so many details about me wrong?

Suddenly, I found myself embroiled in a real life mystery! Hypers!

The only clues I have are quotes from the message itself.

"One of your friends wanted me to check up on you in Indiana." Actually, I don't live in Indiana. When I first listened to the message, I thought she'd said something about my friend being in Indiana, so I called the only friend I have who lives there, but she insisted she hadn't done it. I listened again and realized that the person who sent the message doesn't live in Indiana but thinks I do.

"You've got an ipod crammed full of classic rock, you're up to your ears in the newest Us Weekly and you've got more friends than you can count on AOL." While I do have some classic rock on my ipod, I wouldn't call myself a big classic rock fan. I have read Us Weekly about three times my whole life, and actually, I can count the number of my friends on AOL -- one one hand. I'm not sure who would have thought of me as a classic rock and Us Weekly fan, but I suppose whoever it was could have chosen AOL because he or she is on AOL, which leaves exactly four suspects.

"I hear you have awesome taste in clothes. So throw on your favorite designer outfit and call up your friends, you know, the in crowd, and tell them to forget getting a mani pedi. Instead, you want to go see 'Nancy Drew.'" This clue was the most telling. Obviously, whoever sent me the message does not know me at all. Awesome taste in clothes? Designer outfit? Mani pedi? Well, maybe the mani pedi thing could fly -- I do enjoy a little girly pampering once in awhile, but the closest thing I have to a designer outfit is my Nick and Nora pajamas.

One additional clue was provided by someone who called just a few minutes after I received the mysterious Nancy Drew call and didn't leave a message. Did this person want to know if I'd received a strange voice mail? Perhaps.

I'm still reviewing the clues. I have it narrowed down to a few suspects, but I wouldn't want to falsely accuse anyone. But I vow to get to the bottom of this mystery -- I wouldn't want to let down my favorite girl sleuth.

We Are The Goon Squad, And We're Coming To Town

I'm no fashion plate -- in fact, I am one of the least fashionable people I know. I've committed many a fashion crime in my time, but even I can spot a faux pas when I see one. Here are a few that I find particularly annoying.

1. Use of fancy store shopping bags as purses -- Once you've gotten the merchandise home, you need to be done showing off the bag. I'm all for reusing bags, especially the sturdy handled kind you'll get at a fancy store, but you've gotta use them for something like taking a bunch of your old books or clothes to a friend. These bags should be reused as a transportation vehicle only. Carrying a fancy store bag around town like a purse just looks sad. You do it because you want people to know you shop at nice stores, but all it says is, "I shopped at a nice store once and want to relive the dream."

2. Bermuda shorts on fat people -- I know that sounds mean, but clothing with lean lines should be worn only by lean people. Just because it is in style doesn't mean it will look good on everyone, and wearing classic, timeless clothes that look good on your body type always looks much better than donning trendy stuff that doesn't suit you.

3. The thrown-up-in-a-hair-tie-non-ponytail -- If you're going to go to the trouble of putting your hair up, at least make it neat.

4. The low cut tank top over a tee shirt -- If you don't have the boobs, or if you're too young to show them, don't wear the tank top. Wearing a tee shirt underneath a tank top is like wearing a tee shirt over your swimsuit when you go into the pool -- everyone knows you're only doing it because your mom told you to, and you look really dumb in the process.

5. Half-polished nails -- If it's wearing off, then take it off. Leaving your nails half-polished is like putting shadow on just one eye.

6. Too-small sandals -- If they don't have them in your size, look in another store. Toes spilling off the front of your shoes looks terrible.

Forget Paris

I've been reading with great interest the many, many news stories that have come out the past few days regarding Paris Hilton and her jail time.

Oh, wait...no, that's wrong. I haven't. Because I don't care.

I try to keep up with the news, to keep myself informed about what's going on around the world. But each day I become increasingly annoyed and perplexed by the amount of celebrity garbage out there. This person got arrested, that person is in rehab, this person made ethnic slurs, that person may or may not be pregnant. It's dizzying.

The thing is, it's not even Paris Hilton's fault. Sure, she does what she can to keep herself in the headlines, but it's not like she owns all the news outlets in the world. Personally, I think the Associated Press had the right idea when they adopted a Paris Hilton moratorium. I wish the ban had lasted longer, like forever.

It's not even that legitimate news stories are pushed aside for this crap, it's that the reason they do is because there's a huge market for celebrity gossip. People eat this stuff up, and for the life of me, I cannot understand why they find it so darned interesting. Why is it so important to know that Britney Spears shaved her head, or that Lindsay Lohan is in rehab? It's a mystery to me. I have never read a celebrity gossip story and thought, this information is very crucial to my life. Some people tell me they think it's funny, but I think it's more than that. I hope it is, anyway, because watching the train wreck that is today's Hollywood for pure pleasure is downright sadistic.

I don't feel bad for Paris Hilton. She broke the law and should be penalized for it. But I don't feel any pleasure at seeing her sitting in the back of a police car. Why would I? I don't know her, and I don't really care what happens to her.

Personally, I find that I enjoy the work of celebrities less when I know too much about their personal lives. There are certain actors whose movies I won't even watch, simply because I can't see anyone but the actor. Like Tom Cruise. They might as well just name all of his characters Tom Cruise as well.

I'm sure there's nothing I can do to stop the obsession, and some might argue that even mentioning it is fueling the fire. But honestly -- when will people be satisfied? At what point will people say, yes, I think I've had enough of Paris Hilton, or Lindsay Lohan, or Britney Spears, or whoever else comes along.

Probably never.

But a girl can dream.

Movie Scenes That Make Me Cry Every Time

"Oh Captain, My Captain" -- The last scene in Dead Poet's Society. I don't even have to see the rest of the movie; just seeing those boys standing on their desks is sufficient to open the floodgates. My senior year of high school, my idealistic English teacher showed us this movie, and, having seen it (and cried with it) many times before that, I knew I would bawl, so I made sure to find something else to look at during that scene so my classmates wouldn't know my secret.

"Anything You Want, You Got It" -- The last scene in Boys On The Side. It's harsh enough seeing Mary Louise Parker's gaunt face and emaciated body, pathetically sitting in that wheelchair, but when they go around the room and show the party guests, then go around again and show the empty room and empty wheelchair, it just makes me weep.

"Did I Ever Tell You You're My Hero?" -- It's such a classic tear-jerker that I'm almost embarrassed to admit it, but the scene in Beaches with "Wind Beneath My Wings" in the background, where one second, Bette Midler and Barbara Hershey are spending their last time together and the next, pallbearers are carrying Barbara Hershey's casket just breaks my heart. I don't even like that song, and it breaks my heart.

"They'll Be So Happy, Now And Forever" -- This is even more embarrassing, but Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy's wedding in The Muppets Take Manhattan. My flimsy excuse for this is that once when I was little, I was watching this movie and fell asleep, waking up just in time for the end, so I was all out of it when I saw the scene and heard their wedding song. For some reason, that day, it hit the right nerve, and ever since then, it just hasn't been the same. It's not so much the scene but the song that really gets me; even looking up the lyrics just now I got a little misty.

"Live In My House, I'll Be Your Shelter" -- I listened to the Rent Broadway soundtrack nonstop during the most lonely, excruciating summer of my life, so just about every song from that show gives me that weird sense memory thing, so even if I'm having the best day, all I have to do is hear one of its more tender songs (particularly the reprise of "I'll Cover You," sung at Angel's funeral), and I'm crying like a baby. I think I've grown out of Rent, having realized that I'd rather have food and heat than artistic principles, but hearing that music takes me back to the day when I didn't mind eating Ramen noodles if it meant I could create mediocre art.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go find a box of tissues.

And Then...A Less Appetizing Thought

A coworker just asked me if I wanted to see "the biggest fly eyeballs ever."

At first, I thought she was using a euphemism I hadn't heard before, but then I saw that she was holding, on a ruler, a fly whose life another coworker had recently cut short.

"This fly has the biggest eyes I've ever seen!" she exclaimed. "Do you wanna see?"

I didn't. I politely declined my coworker's offer, and I think I actually might have hurt her feelings a little bit.

But when it comes right down to it, there are some things I just don't mind missing.

Still There For The Food

As loyal Stapling Jello readers know, I'm not really into sports.

But compared to a few years ago, when I considered looking at the TV just long enough to figure out which team was wearing what color "watching the game," I'm a regular sports fan today. With this transition, I credit my husband and kosher hot dogs.

When we first started dating two years ago, I let my sweetheart know that the only way to guarantee my attendance at a sporting event was to buy me a hot dog at the event. He's always enjoyed sports, especially baseball, and, being a kosher dog fan himself, he happily complied. Thanks to his willingness to feed me, and a fantastic World Series winning 2005 season of my adopted hometown team, the Chicago White Sox, I actually started to enjoy watching games.

Two years later, I still enjoy going to baseball games. Sure, much of my enthusiasm is still brought on by kosher hot dogs, but I have fun actually watching the game as well. I still don't understand all of the rules and am constantly asking questions that make my sweetheart roll his eyes at me, but I think he privately is happy that I'm interested enough to ask.

Last year, I decided that I wanted a White Sox tee shirt. I'd watched the team for awhile, knew the names of most of the players and even imagined what each person would bring if I invited them to a backyard barbecue; I thought that made me enough of a fan to merit sporting Sox fashions.

My sweetheart disagreed, telling me I wasn't ready yet. He didn't say exactly why until the night before last, as we discussed our plans to attend our first game of the season together the next day. Over dinner, I said that I think since this is my third year following the team, I should be ready for a tee shirt now. He considered this for a moment and told me that he didn't think I would really be ready until I could go to a game and not have a kosher dog be the main event for me. Fair enough, I suppose, but I don't think that's the whole reason.

It has always disappointed him that I'm not a big cheerer. I grew up attending events like plays and the symphony concerts, where "inside voices" are used and polite clapping is the best way to show appreciation. And, being a pretty reserved person by nature, I couldn't easily make the transition to the screaming and jumping up and down commonly seen at sporting events. I used to clap during baseball games, but I was made fun of because I clapped politely like I would at a play, so now, I just watch quietly and let my husband do the cheering for both of us.

Last night on the way to the game, however, I proved myself without even trying. It had been raining for awhile, and my husband asked if I even wanted to bother going to the game, because he thought it might be called off. I said we ought to try; we'd been looking forward to this for awhile, and it wasn't raining all that hard, so maybe they wouldn't call it off. I realized how impressed by this he must have been when we passed a sports memorabilia shop and he said, "if the game does get rained out, we should go there and get you your tee shirt."

The game went on, the White Sox beat the Yankees 6-4 and my husband ate a kosher dog and curly fries while I enjoyed a funnel cake. My sweetheart, obviously noting the fact that I had not eaten a kosher dog myself, pointed to a fan's shirt halfway through the game and asked if that was the design I wanted; he even asked if I might want a hat as well. But now I'm wondering if he wasn't right the first time, that I am really not worthy of wearing the White Sox garb.

Like many ballparks, US Cellular Field entertains the fans between innings with various contests, including a race of a certain sponsor's products, in cartoon form. When fans walk in, they get a coupon for a pizza establishment, good only if the type of pizza noted on the coupon wins the race. Last night, my husband and I both got "cheese," and I was disappointed. Had one of us gotten "pepperoni" or "sausage," we would have had a two out of three chance of winning. But when I realized that also meant that a "cheese" victory would mean two free pizzas, I began to get excited.

When the race of the cartoon pizzas finally began, I watched, enraptured. Cheese ran to the front right away, but then Sausage and Pepperoni took turns passing him. It was a nail biter. Two pizzas were on the line here, and before I knew it, I found myself clapping and yelling, "go Cheese! Come on, Cheese, you can do it!" Even in the midst of it, I felt a bit sheepish. I'd been silent the entire first half of the ball game, yet here I was, screaming for a cartoon pizza, and high-fiving my husband when Cheese won.

I didn't even clap for the two Sox players who hit home runs.

Yeah, maybe I'm not ready for that Sox shirt just yet. But until I am, I think I'll try to find out whether that pizza place sells clothing.