Last night I went to my first major league baseball game. Though I looked utterly out of place and couldn't relate to any of the thousands of people decked in orange and blue surrounding me, I had more fun than I thought I would. This might only be because I was a little drunk, also I found spicy veggie dogs, also I heard a grown man shout, "NO PUSHIN', NO SHOVIN', I GOT PLENTY A HOTDAWGS!," also I had field seats, which means I was very close to the action, also The Mets won 4-0, which apparently never happens.
Nilea is stuck in Paris.
I'm writing a children's book.
I'm worried about Jenny.
I'm longing for a different time.