I made my way home tonight in earnest, ready to put the finishing touches on the apartment clean-up...since my other half is coming to NYC tomorrow -- for three weeks -- I can't really keep still. She did some packing tonight as I ripped through my apartment with the vaccuum, the Swiffer, paper towels, disposable clorox and orange wipes, and garbage bags. She was fooling around on the computer when I called her, drained and ready for apartment visitors.
She finished her packing and was winding down as well, so we talked a bit as I watched a re-run of an Iron Chef episode on the Food Network. Then we parted again for me to do more work and to get myself ready for tomorrow; since it's a Friday before a long holiday weekend -- we're going to have some serious get-reacquainted time. Even though it's only been a month, I can't wait to see her -- despite the fact we talk up to five or six times a day, just being in her presence recharges me in ways I can't really describe.
In other Boogie-news, my father visited the cardiologist this morning and is doing great. He won't need to see the doctor for four months, which, all things considered, could not be better news. His steady progress is something I've almost taken for granted, and with each passing day -- and each milestone achieved -- I don't stop smiling. And every time I get irritated or think back to the days which caused all the aggravation in the first place, all I need is a brief word from my other half or a glimpse of my dad smiling and all the bullshit dissipates.
On top of that, the Yankees began their better-late-than-never shake-up. They jettisoned two pitchers, Mike Stanton and Paul Quantrill. For those of you who don't know either of those two names, the former is a pitcher who was a member of the Yankees before they realized he'd shot his load and let him go. Unfortunately, those guiding the Yankees (Brian Cashman, you little, ignorant prick) didn't know any better and decided, a season or two later, to re-sign Mr. Stanton. The other night, against the Baltimore Orioles, Mr. Stanton pitched a fastball right over the plate in extra innings in his last relief appearance for the Yankees; the pitch was slammed into the stands for a game-winning (and career-ending) home run. Thanks for the memories, Mike. Paul Quantrill, although not as inept as Mr. Stanton, pitched his way off the team with an inflated ERA, lousy strikeout-to-walk ratios, and ineffectiveness to rival the worst pitchers in the League. Good riddance.
There will be more shake-ups, more Yankee wins and more Yankee losses, but at least the team is doing something -- in-season, as opposed to during the off-season -- to make the team better. Should be a long rest of the season.
Other than that, not much has been happening 'round these parts. I'm just counting the hours (and wondering how I'll be able to sleep tonight) until my other half is in my presence and my arms. Looking at the calendar I noticed it's only been a month since we last were together, but I still can't believe it's only been a matter of days. It feels -- too long.
That changes, starting tomorrow.