Frisbee Girl and Me

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Eventually I’m going to run into trouble when Frisbee Girl discovers the blog and then presses charges against me. But until that time, I like tellin’ you guys about my on-field crush. And maybe when I do get busted, you guys could be my character witnesses and probably explain blogging to her and that I didn’t mean this in a creepy way. Second thought, you guys might have to explain that to a Dutch judge.

So today we played a double header, and despite all my screams of pain and frustration, I had a great time and made some sweet-ass catches. Probably most of the reason I work so hard on that field is that she inspires me to do so. Seriously, don’t laugh at me yet (wait til the end), but when I’m running the plays, her voice is always present… and I might be hallucinating out there (this is Amsterdam Frisbee League!) but I swear she’s always cheering for me. Even when I completely fuck up the play and wind up rolling around in the grass just short of the disc, EVEN THEN, I hear her shouting kind words like “Good Run BM!” or “GREAT DIVE BM.” I know it’s lame, but that small gesture goes a long way with me. Anytime I look her way, she’s lookin back with something positive or kind to say to me. I’m sure thats part of her frisbee Jedi training, but nevermind that — I like pretending it’s especially for ME.

Maybe the great bummer is that we’re in the playoffs (or so I hear, I don’t really pay attention to things like scores and schedules) and so, soon it will be over, and everyone will go on their long Dutch vacations. Dam you TIME — why must you keep moving along!?

Oh and Tomorrow I’m tearing into this Olympic Bid bid-ness, cause it’s pissing me off to no end!

PS – – It’s been awhile since I talked about a Tony Pierce post, but the man is full of good stuff and I highly recommend this one.

Remember Expectations

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I don’t read many books. I blame the internet. I read hours and hours of blog posts every week. I read newspapers, work emails, and graffiti.. but rarely a book.

Still, in my younger years I would read books. And if there’s one book that for some inexplicable reason I loved as a kid, it was Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations. Maybe I like it because its the story of a boy who is tortured by the women he loves and I’m a masochist so I like that kind of stuff. It’s a very dark story, and maybe I like that sort of thing as well.

So tonight, after playing a show with my darling A in Haarlem, I had the movie version of Great Expectations waiting for me. (thanks to the magic of Bittorent) You may have seen this 90’s production with Ethan Hawke and Gweneth Paltrow. And if you did, you probably remember it as a crap movie, and you’re probably right. But as I watched, my love for the story came back, and I found myself feeling the anger of the main character, feeling the brokenheartedness. I bet the movie probably wasn’t that good, but I was too busy remembering the REAL story and thinking back to when I first read it and how great it was.