![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Today in Natsville
May. 4th, 2012 02:55 amThe Nationals won their third game (of three) against the Diamondbacks tonight, 2-1, isolating their ignoble trio of losses to the Yanquis as the ONLY series they have lost so far this year. Their record improves to 16 wins, 9 losses—or .640, top of the Eastern Division, tied with St. Loomis in Central, trailing the Dodgers' .680. We're also tied with Baltimore in the American League, but they're behind Tampa Bay (.692), who just finally surpassed Texas (.680). (See all standings here.)
Now the really exciting part: Philadelphia has finally broken even: 13 wins, 13 losses, putting them FOURTH out of the five teams in National League East. And they're coming here for the next three days.
The only bad part about tonight's game was that there were too many and the wrong humans in Section 314. Escape from the Diamond Club's corporate douchebags is one thing, but The Rabble have their own little foibles, too: witness the drunk, Werth-hating motormouth behind us (who wore out the patience of even the buddy who brought him—the nadir of their dialog was, "You're really starting to piss me the fuck off. STOP POKING ME."); witness the GenX threesome (and 4-ish child) to my right, one or more of which needed to run a new errand on average every half-inning; witness, indeed, what happens when motormouth hollers at Incontinent GenXer A to wait for the goddamn batter to be done before making everybody in the row stand up, because some people are trying to watch baseball up here. This got GenXer's attention as he was passing directly in front of me, where he stopped and glared and said sharply, "Who do you think you're talking to?" whereupon they beat their chests at each other for a while. Witness GenXer B take every possible opportunity throughout the rest of the game to wring sarcasm out of the situation—e.g., admonishing the accompanying child for everything he did, lest the mean man yell at him; pointing derisively to other people standing while a batter was up; and insisting that one is never made to suffer such petty scolding at Fenway.
I hate humans.
In other news, I am exhibiting photography at Artomatic 2012, which opens May 18. I need to have my installation done by Sunday week, which is starting to scare the shit out of me. Anybody want to advise on presentation, wall space preparation, framing? My initial idea (project one of my photo images, rendered in 8-color, onto the wall, trace outlines, and paint by numbers) seems way, way too complicated and time-consuming at this point...
Now the really exciting part: Philadelphia has finally broken even: 13 wins, 13 losses, putting them FOURTH out of the five teams in National League East. And they're coming here for the next three days.
The only bad part about tonight's game was that there were too many and the wrong humans in Section 314. Escape from the Diamond Club's corporate douchebags is one thing, but The Rabble have their own little foibles, too: witness the drunk, Werth-hating motormouth behind us (who wore out the patience of even the buddy who brought him—the nadir of their dialog was, "You're really starting to piss me the fuck off. STOP POKING ME."); witness the GenX threesome (and 4-ish child) to my right, one or more of which needed to run a new errand on average every half-inning; witness, indeed, what happens when motormouth hollers at Incontinent GenXer A to wait for the goddamn batter to be done before making everybody in the row stand up, because some people are trying to watch baseball up here. This got GenXer's attention as he was passing directly in front of me, where he stopped and glared and said sharply, "Who do you think you're talking to?" whereupon they beat their chests at each other for a while. Witness GenXer B take every possible opportunity throughout the rest of the game to wring sarcasm out of the situation—e.g., admonishing the accompanying child for everything he did, lest the mean man yell at him; pointing derisively to other people standing while a batter was up; and insisting that one is never made to suffer such petty scolding at Fenway.
I hate humans.
In other news, I am exhibiting photography at Artomatic 2012, which opens May 18. I need to have my installation done by Sunday week, which is starting to scare the shit out of me. Anybody want to advise on presentation, wall space preparation, framing? My initial idea (project one of my photo images, rendered in 8-color, onto the wall, trace outlines, and paint by numbers) seems way, way too complicated and time-consuming at this point...
