A Tribute to the Traded

I was in Bed Bath and Beyond using our gift cards when Phil gave me the news. (Don't worry, I wasn't missing the Braves game, they're all set to record this weekend.)

"I have some bad news, Angela," Phil says as I brace myself. "Portland has offered Millsap a contract." He's my favorite Jazz man and I'm quite saddened by this new information. "But there's worse bad news," Phil continues. I'm really not expecting what I hear next. All I'm thinking is maybe some more Jazz or basketball news, stuff I may be sad about but nothing to affect my life. And then this:

"They've traded Jeff Francoeur to the Mets."

"Shut up. They did not," I replied as I smack Phil in the arm for playing such a harsh joke on me.

"I'm not kidding Angela, they really did." Still not believing him, he has to pull out his phone and show me the article. And it's really true. "Are you crying?" Phil asks as I turn away after I read it.

"No." But Phil proceeds to text my family about how I'm crying anyway. (Which may or may not be true, you decide. ;)

Basically that's how it went when I found out some of the worst sports news ever. And the more I think about it the worse it gets. No more watching Brian and Jeff together. No more being so excited when Jeff throws someone out at home from right field. No more watching him swing the bat regardless of the count being 3-0. No more keeping my poster of Jeff in his Braves uniform up in the spare bedroom. (Yes, I just couldn't part with it when I got married.) And the worst timing too. Just when they're on TV four days in a row because they're playing the Rockies. But you know what the very worst part is? My Jeff bobblehead. Who else can fill his shoes and be the boyfriend who sits on my desk at school and bring me back to my happy place when I look at him?

So here's to you Jeff. The guy who came into the season and July and swept Braves fans away as a rookie. Here's to you and your cover on SI. Here's to you who made me love the Braves more than ever before. Here's to you who inspired me to go to baseball games two hours in advance to watch batting practice. Here's to you who contributed to the needed baseball game summers with my sister. (What is it 5 years in a row now?) Here's to you who've kept my baseball love strong. May it stay strong and my loyalty never waver to my beloved Braves.

(Even if you'll occasionally find me cheering for a certain New York right fielder.)

In loving memory of Jeff Francoeur. RF #7 2005-2009

Seriously?

What is with Junior High mentality?

"No, I won't do that assignment that you are so willing to hand over the answers for if I just show up in your room after school. I think I'll fail and have to retake a term of English just because I'd rather do 30 assignments in the future instead of 1 right now."

Seriously?

MARCH!

I MADE IT! I survived the giant black hole named February. That's right everyone, welcome to the first day of March! I love the overwhelming support I got during the month of February and the shout outs, condolences, and positive support via text message (Mom, Amy, Erica, etc), comment (you know who you are, and if not check a couple of posts ago...), or even fellow blog post (Thanks Jessica)!

I received this text from Amy this afternoon: "Happy March! March is spring training, basketball madness, rain showers, warmer weather, and most importantly, the end of FEBRARY!"

I can't think of anything better than this. So we welcome you March. With wide open arms.

Proof I'm Not the Only One

Yep, it's not just me. It's the general feeling.

Grr...to February

My mom and I have a theory. Ever wondered what moron decided to make the months all have a different number of days? Especially February. They all stick with 30 or 31 and then here comes February struting along with 28 days. Seriously? How unorganized as that. (And I'm sure any OCD readers are going to completely understand what I mean...)

So here's our theory: One pivotal February when I was in high school I just knew the answer. February only has 28 days for a reason. It was done completely on purpose. It had to have been. Because I am not kidding when I say how strongly believe how suicide rates would go up dramatically if we had to go to 29 more than once every four years, and getting to day 30 or 31 in February? It would kill the majority of the population.

Think about it. Have you felt a little down lately and not known for sure why? Have you been a little irritable? Annoyed? Stressed? Busier than normal and just wish you could find a way to get your life back? Have you been looking for a cause to your bad moods or saddened dispositions? If so, I'm here with the answer. IT'S FEBRUARY!

I'm serious. I was talking to my mom while driving yesterday and were discussing how rotten we were feeling about everything when *bang* it hit me. Duh, it's the blasted month with 28 days. It's the curse of all curses. I even woke up the morning of the 1st of February awaiting the dump of the awful month and since then and now had completely forgotten, yet felt the ominous presence of February unconsciously. It's sneaky like that. Creeping up on you and biting you right in the butt.

Now, I'm not saying that nothing good happens in February, (although I don't like Valentine's day for everything except for the chocolate that goes on sale afterward and the kid valentine cards that are just great), because I know some great people with birthdays in February, (love ya Nan, Julie, Danielle, and Erica. Who knew so many of my friends were born in February? :), and they add some cheer to the otherwise dismal month, but still. Bleh. I mean, groundhogs day? He saw his dang shadow. More winter. wahoo.

Yuck. So I'm proposing that we band together against the month of February. Write your local and state officials a letter, collect signatures for petitions, raise the picket signs, and go on strike against February. We can beat this month! (or really, all I'm asking is to at least make it through alive!)