Aargh, the Yankees lost.

So then five absolutely vital baseball observations:
1. Time is running out for our beloved pinstripes.
2. The best of all playoff situations this year would be for the Yankees to over take the Sox and win the AL East and then for the Indians to win the Wild Card. No Post Season for the Sox! The unfortunate downside to that is it could just as easily happen to the Yanks.
3. Roger Clemens should win his 8th Cy Young. His ERA is amazing.
4. Barry Bonds should have stayed out of baseball, announced a graceful retirement at the end of a the season. He has hurt the Giants with his prima donna absence and his acheivements will always have an air of taint. In fact the last person that I am convinced truly earned the home run record it Roger Maris.
5. Which brings me to number 5 - Roger Maris should be in the hall of fame. Look how long he held the record. Aside from that, he was an all around good player. His biggest fault was hating the sports writers.

Now to slip back into unwelcome reality that I need to get some sewing done, as the dedication for relief sale items is next Sunday. I must get the dresses that I promised to make done so that I can get onto other projects.

It isn't that I am not thankful for the good things in my life. I have blessings too numerous to count. There are times like tonight, that I sit here telling myself the story that is my life. It is in the lonely dark that I am forced to admit that who I am now in no way resembles who I was.
I remember being able to be free, to be spontaneous. I remember being able to dance and to smile and to flirt. I remember being the smartest girl in the room and I remember being important. I remember a night lit with stars, damp with heat, and a bar full of friends. I remember Johnny and Debbie and a really cute guy whose name I don't remember, Kamakzes were something red and a song, Red, Red Wine.
There was a time when I didn't have to think about everybody else first. It was in that time that I believed in rockets, stars and friends. Maybe I am a better person now. I remember being in some ground floor room in Curtiss Hall at two in the morning during VEISHEA, remember public speaking with passion and confidence, and remember dreams lost.
I will not deny that my own choices brought me far from those dreams. People who don't take responsibily for thier lives piss me off, so I will not be that. My life has moved so far from those times, only a small bit of that person can remain. I wonder what the people now in my life would say to know that person from that time past. My own dear husband may have only had dim glimpses of the person I was. I and feel sad knowing that he won't ever know that part of me that is lost. I am not trying to hide, maybe I am instead just growing older. I don't know what it is. I wouldn't trade the people in my life now for those from "long ago" but paradoxically I would love to trade a night of rememberance for the chance to live in that moment. To just once more savor the caress of night, the electricity of potential, and the delicious freedom of knowing that I could do anything.