I'm Tired, Covered In Paint, And I Have Herpes On My Face. Must Be Monday.

Honestly I'm not sure why I'm tired. I slept most of Sunday. I'm calling it "resting and healing" (aka being lazy) I would assume that the paint is fairly self-explanatory. Clearly, I'm a great artist. An artist that took painting and sketching lessons as a child and possibly cried during both. Possibly. For this reason I limit my artistic designs to only one color and always paint on a flat wall using a roller.

And the herpes, well it's a cold sore. No doubt a result of the trauma my body endured from last week's drug use. I don't actually even know the names of all of the drugs I took. Some were white, some where a very pretty shade of pink, also there were some blue ones and then some brownish colored ones. None of them got me high. Unless uterine contractions count as being high.

I checked with wikipedia and no, uterine contractions do not count as getting high. OK that was a lie, I didn't check with wikipedia. Any woman who has experienced contractions doesn't need wikipedia to tell you that it's not happy or feel good at all.

I'm now going to attempt to blame the previous three paragraphs on paint fumes and move on to talking about what I did Friday night. Paint fumes....did you buy that?

Good.

On Friday, Coach, Bella, Tony, G.G., my Father-in-Law and I went to a Mets' game at the new Citi Field. Not being a Mets fan (go Yankees), I had every intention of rooting for the opposing team, but they played the Reds and who roots for the Reds? Cincinatians?

All right so the game was boring. Citi Field on the other hand, kinda awesome. The design is beautiful and eye catching. There are a lot of places to hang out besides your actual seats and it seemed like most people were taking advantage of that.

I suppose that if you knew that there was a good chance that your team would be so bad that no one would want to buy tickets to watch them play, you would have to offer some other kinds of perks. I would have loved to been inside that brain storming session.

OK, so our team is awful. How do we distract the fans from that and get them to buy tickets?

Let's sell a variety of weirdo beers that you can't find anywhere else.

I like it, get'em drunk.

Let's make a Rotunda dedicated to Jackie Robinson even though he was never a Met.

Excellent! Ooh ooh you know what would be awesome? A giant 42! Let's put a giant 42 in the Rotunda.

*all the suits nod their heads in excited agreement.*

Pay no mind to that man behind the 2. I have no idea who that is, but I'd bet money that he was wandering aimlessly around the Rotunda with a novelty beer in his hand. That's how Mets' fans medicate their woes when they are losing 3-0 and have no hope whatsoever of recovering the deficit of runs to win.

We began our climb to our seats. First the escalator, then the stairs, more stairs, a tunnel and low and behold, more stairs. As we began our final ascent up the stairs, the very top of the stadium came into view. Sure enough, we were seated in the very last row of the stadium. That fence behind my FIL, Tony and Coach represents the end of the rows of seats and also kept us from falling to our deaths. I would, at this time, like to thank the Mets' front office for putting that fence in. It would have sucked to fall to my death at a baseball game.

As we walked around scoping out all that Citi Field had to offer, my FIL did the thing that we all yell at our kids for doing. He picked garbage up off the ground. In a public place.

Yes, ew.

His garbage turned out to be a ticket worth over $4oo. The result of his garbage picking was that he and Bella now have the distinction of sitting in the last row in the stadium and also in one of the top ten rows all during the same game. Which is pretty cool, but I'm still not going to let my kids pick garbage up off the ground.

Thus ends my wild and crazy Friday night. I'm going to go medicate my herpes now. Good Day.