Red Sox Victory!

So, as everyone knows by now, the Sox beat the Cardinals to win this year's World Series. It is the most exciting sports victory of my life.
I watched history unfold in the Mad Dog In The Fog, a bar in the Lower Haight.
The Teacher's Pet was nice enough to pick me up from work. We got there right in time, before the place became very crowded. She had made Sox-erdoodles, snickerdoodles with the Boston 'B' on them for the fans. They went over very well. The beer was good, the crowd was Boston-sypathetic, the game was...
Well, the game was nervewracking.
But well played.
After the win, everyone cheered and hugged, high fived, screamed. I can only imagine what it was like back in Boston!
I talked to everyone and their mother (including my own awake way past her bedtime mother) and got ribbed about the Red Sox tattoo I promised to get when they won the World Series (A vow I made about 3 years ago).
So, to whom it may concern: The tattoo vow/bet is still on. But since it will be a PERMANENT ADDITION TO MY BODY, I will wait until I know where I want to have it, who I want to do it, and when.
And that's a promise!
More bus reports coming up, I've just been BASEBALL BASEBALL BASEBALL for the past couple of weeks....

Bus Report #29

Yesterday’s commute started out a little different than usual and I think that had a lot to do with the following: I left the house a bit early, to go find a newspaper. For some reason they have not been stocking the paper boxes around Potrero Hill for over a week. I might call and complain.
So, I wandered down Clement and found a yellow box fully stocked with fresh papers, the headline reading: RED SOX DO IT!
Which made me very happy. I walked on, down a still dark and damp street. None of the shops were open yet, except for my produce market. I said good morning to a very surprised employee, who has never seen me before 6 PM before.
At the bus stop I did not have to wait long, and the driver was the guy who always stops in front of me. I got a seat and switched on my walkman.
At Fillmore, I waited for the light to change with the girl I gave last month’s pass to. She told me that she’d seen a rat under the bus stop benches the day before. We both made faces. Gross.
There were a ton of people waiting, among them my bus friend Carmen.
We said hi and immediately started talking. She was glad to see me and I was glad to see her. She noticed the Red Sox buttons on my bag and said, "I am from Boston."
To which I replied: "What do you mean?"
Carmen: "The one with all the hair autographed my grandson’s baseball in Seattle this summer, he was so nice and friendly, so I like the Red Sox now."
Me: "That’s Johnny Damon! And he does seem very nice."
A few minutes later we were on the bus, sitting in the back row like two chatty schoolgirls. And, just like two chatty schoolgirls, we started gossiping (nicely) about the other commuters. We admired the mom with four very polite kids, talked about the loud teens and the men who hit on us when we are sitting alone.
Then she said: "I tell my husband, the 22 Fillmore is life. People get married, divorced, say F to you, are friendly sometimes and it is like a community. And you can hear all different languages and conversations and everyone in the city is on this bus. It is wonderful."
I had to agree with her. However much we complain about the 22 Fillmore bus, it is sometimes a fun and eye-opening ride.
I said: "and you make friends, too."
And she said: "yes."
The rest of the ride she told me about her niece, visiting from Mexico. It was lovely.

Will we regret this?

Several months ago, The Professor got a gig vetting submissions for Teenage Chicken Soup for the Soul, IV.
Several of us sent him stuff, and while it was all mainly for comedy purposes, our heartfelt teenage learning experiences have been published in the book.
I am both glad (publication! money!)
and embarrassed (teens/self-help/inspiration book!)

Anyway, it's Teenage Chicken Soup for the Soul, volume 4.
Look for it in a supermarket, bookstore or drug store near you.

(I am published as Rachel Moore, NOT Rachel Louise Moore, I do not know who she is but she's in there, too. Also of note: The Professor himself, Mr. Eric Moore and our good buddy Lalanthica!)

Red Sox Nation, Pray Hard

Well, the Sox are now tied with the Evil Empire.
Tonight's game is the deciding game.
Pray hard, and I will be one step closer to fulfilling my promise: to get a Red Sox tattoo when we win the world series.
I shook on it and I intend to honor it.

GO RED SOX!

The American Pastime

The Red Sox did the unbelievable last night. After losing 3 out of the best of 7 games against the Yankees, we finally did it last night, keeping us in the race at least for another game. I'll tell you this: It is very nervewracking to be sitting on the couch, still kind of sick, at 10:30 at night with a cup of tea and fuzzy slippers watching the 12th inning of a VERY IMPORTANT baseball game. Especially since with Miss K. asleep in the next room I could not curse the TV, squeal, yell or do a victory dance.
However, to celebrate our hard won win, I did do a little jig and place a phone call to the only other person I thought would be watching.

GO RED SOX!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Good and The Bad

Both my busses were late today, and I had to sit next to some gross people. Every last one of the Mission High kids were on the bus and even though the driver tried to get them to pay their fare, they didn't do it. And she was too chicken to kick them out.Bring on the (in)famous driver any day.
But the sunrise was gorgeous, lots of pinks, blues and oranges, flocks of birds flying near my house and down by Safeway.
And while I am still sick, I think I am better.
Quiet day at the office with K. out.

What not to do

Don't take allergy medicine in order to see if you have allergies or a head cold. You will just become a tired, spaced out person with a head cold.
A tired person with a head cold who now only drinks decaf coffee.

Bus Report #28

Ran for the 22 today. The driver from the 38 let me run in front of his bus to catch it. A word about Mister 38 Geary: no matter how many people are waiting at my stop, he ALWAYS pulls right up in front of me, stopping on a dime it seems sometimes. It's great.
Anyway... So I ran for the 22, could feel my hair getting blown about from the wind, which must mean it's getting long.
The bus waits for me. The driver is the (in)famous driver, and he smiles and says hi and doesn't need to see my pass but I show it anyway. One of the teens is sitting in the front of the bus and she said hi to me, too, and smiled. I used to think she was as bad as the other MHS kids but she's okay. I gave her my September pass last Friday, figuring she could get another couple of days out of it. I guess we are now on smile-and-chat terms, which is okay with me! Other notable passengers included: Elderly, loud-talking wheelchair guy, the other MHS kids, Everett kids and E. Maxwell kids. And the most beautiful little girls in the world and their mom, and the woman with the three sons all under age 5.
The loud-talking wheelchair guy acted as a second driver, directing people to, "move on back, move on back and stay clear of the stairs, do you want this guy (the driver) to lose his job?"
At this comment, the teen girl, her friend and the woman standing near me started to talk about how by-the-book our driver was.
It was all I could do not to jump in and praise the man, he's got a tough job!
The bus wires near the Potrero Center were laden with sparrows. It was beautiful, they always are but especially today.

Shameless Plug for the Professor

The Professor, known in most circles as my dear brother, is currently living it up in Wichita Kansas, home of a drag queen improbably named Rachael Moore (notice the subtle spelling difference) and ALSO the Tall Grass Film Festival, which starts October 7th.

Check it out! The Professor got some awesome films for the festival....

Tallgrass Film Festival 2004

Bus Report #27

Open letter to the jerk sitting behind me on the 38 this morning:
Jerk:
There is no earthly reason why, at 7:28 in the morning, on a PUBLIC BUS, you should be having a screaming match with your soon to be ex-wife Grace. Maybe that is the only time you have to call her. Maybe that's the only time she is available. Fine. BUT DO IT AT HOME. I did not need or want to hear your tired excuses, your pledges for child support, the things you called her. Grace is so obviously better off without you. I hope you give her a lot of money. And if you sit near me again, be ready for me to get mad.

Did the commute get better? Ha. Of course not. High school brats on the 22, that's all I gotta say. Got to work on time, saw A. going in to the building as I was stepping off the bus. M. was coming down the block from the 10. I swatted him with my newspaper, broke routine by taking the elevator upstairs.