Fantastically, I have actually had work to do today! The company is in the process of redoing the website (which is long-overdue) and I have been given the task of being the 6th pair of eyes to edit the whole thing. Equally exciting is that I've been given license to re-write wherever I see fit and they seem to like what I've been doing so far. It's definitely far different from the kind of writing I'm used to doing (persuasive papers and historical research) so it's an interesting excersise for me. I also love feeling useful.

However, I desperately needed a break. All the words were starting to meld together and I was losing track of the message--never good when writing for a public relations-type firm.

Last night's All-Star Game was very exciting. We almost dropped it, but a last-out triple saved our bums and we once again retain home-field advantage. And by "we" I clearly mean the American League of which I am an honorary member. My favorite thing about the All-Star Game is that I get the opportunity to cheer for players I would ordinarily not be rooting for. On any other day I would die before woo-hooing David Ortiz, but last night I got to "Come on, baby!" him guilt-free. It's also a nice showcase of talented players that I haven't been keeping track of because they haven't yet played my Yanks, a good look into what the rest of the season holds and what we may be facing.

It is nasty outside. The air is thick as pea soup and I sweated nearly a gallon just while I was standing on the subway platform (where it is extra hot and soupy). Very unpleasant because you then have to cram your sweaty-slick body up against other smelly, perspiring commuters and hope you don't stick together. Yet another reason why I think I have had my fill of New York for a while. It's just so unpleasant to be bereft of a sea-breeze.

Tonight I take advantage of New York's Restaurant Week (one of the reasons I still do love NYC deep in my heart, and have not yet fled to the Rockies). I am meeting Sam and Jody, our 6th grade Humanities teacher, for dinner at Bolo--an upscale mexican infusian restaurant that I think may be another Bobby Flay outpost. Mesa Grill, Flay's hit restaurant was excellent, boasting novel food alchemies with spice. I am definitely looking forward to Bolo, though not to swimming my way over to the restaurant. I hate arriving places completely drenched with sweat and over-heated to an uncomfortable degree making it look like you just hiked Everest in heels. And there's never a decent opportunity to recombobulate yourself before anyone notices. Bah! At least the office is freezing; the walk to the restaurant may be just short enough to only thaw me out rather than melt me into a puddle.

I have December, 1963 (Oh What A Night!) stuck in my head. It's my most recent purchase off of itunes, but I have yet to listen to it in full. itunes is 8 kinds of fantastic.