Juxtaposed Emotions
It’s hard to put into words what love actually is. Not hugs and kisses, but to describe the indescribable. To express exactly what it is to a person who would otherwise not know. In some respects, it’s easier to explain it to a child in terms of how they feel about their mother or father. But that’s the “easy” type of love, the kind of love that everyone has for someone, whether it be parent or friend.
Today I saw it for the first time in a long time.
Gabe and Danielle got married today, and it was a great ceremony and reception. The music was great and the readings and prayer for the service were about as perfect as such a thing could be. What struck me about it all came near the end of the service, before “The kiss,” when we were to all silently take in one of the readings. Everyone on stage was fidgeting, uncomfortable with the silence. Some were swaying, others were darting their eyes to their friends or around the church.
But Gabe and Danielle, Mr. and Mrs. Hohrieter, were simply standing there looking at each other. It was one of those looks where a cracked smile said more than either of them could say verbally. Standing there holding hands, I felt like I was let in on some secret they have.
And it was incredible. Obviously I knew they cared about one another. They are perfect together, after all, but seeing that let me in on what a relationship can and should be like. I wrote on a not that I was jealous of them (in a joking tone) but the more and more I think of it, I am. Not a scornful jealous, but a happy for them feeling i’ve not really felt before. It’d be easy to be a tad bitter and scornful what with my recent relationship woes, but I can’t be. First of all being Danielle’s friend, but second of all I should hope we’re all as lucky as those two.
Congratulations D and Gabe, you guys have a long, exciting life ahead of you. And plenty of relatives to babysit free of charge.
I also went to the Phillies vs Dodgers game Friday night. I went with Jordan and his friends from The Shack, a Philadelphia sports bar with much love for all things Eagle, Phlyer, Phillie and 76er. The group is an eclectic bunch, from guys looking like Matisyahu and Scott Stapp, and girls on gluten free diets to those who can talk trash and moon other drivers. That being said, man they are a lot of fun. The game was going well until towards the end and alcohol had set in for the Dodger fans.
I swear I’ve never been pelted with more food items and beverages in my entire life than I was last night. After the Dodger fans went ahead and won the game, insults were thrown even further than the hotdogs with which these douchebags were armed. Now I didn’t really have a problem with it and partially expected it coming in. But they should have at least been men about it all. The girls in our troupe (said mooner and gluten-free femmes) were the target of most of the thrown items, and one guy, apparently, took a swing at one of the girls. I wish I had seen it, but unfortunately I wasn’t around at that point.
Imagine a grown man swinging at a girl over a baseball game. Stay classy, Los Angeles. And as much as I know it’s not indicative of all fans, it shows you that there are fans and people out there going Robert Deniro over this shit like they are playing in the actual game. My favorite is the asshole who’s talking shit from the left bleacher, only to run away when we saw him in the parking lot. The best way to describe it: The bleachers at Dodgers stadium are most like the internet; Anonymity plus opinion equals incredibly stupid behavior.
Making matters worse was the “security” in the park. They were too busy hassling a bunch of phillie fans for their tickets and ensuring they were sitting in the right spot instead of kicking out said douchebags hurling shit at us. Can’t remember the official who came and talked to us, but he looked like Squeak from Basketball. This guy was more interested in being our friend than actually fixing the problem, a quality I find loathsome in human beings.
I’m not perfect, but I’m not afraid to disappoint people once and a while either. There are about 4-6 girls in my past life you can confirm this with. But honestly, the expression “Don’t piss on my and tell me it’s raining” is apt here. Tell me you can’t do shit about it, don’t tell me “We can’t watch everyone,” because either way you’re failing at your job, but one way I don’t expect change. And pro-tip: If I get upset and swear, calling something “fucking ridiculous,” threatening to kick me out is a baller move. Apparently swearing is higher on the pantheon of crimes at dodger stadium than throwing a plate of nachos. At least put jalapeños on it, spice up my life.
The point of my rant is that I’m not even a Phillie fan. They are fun to watch, and i don’t mind cheering for them from time to time (but they still beat the brewers and we can’t have that happening). But I am even more of an anti-Los Angeles fan than I can describe, but I’ll try. LA Fans, go back to your freeway congested, smog filled, band-wagon jumping, waitering because you can’t act, more plastic than a matel factory, bottled water drinking, bad driving, over-populated, 7-dollar-beer selling, slicked-back or shaved head, blond or dyed blond, groupie gathering, twenty-dollar micro salad, paparazzi infested latrine that feels less and less like home than it does a pit stop on my journey through life.
Kind of wish I didn’t hit my 1000 word limit in anger, but I’ll take it. Gearing up for nanowrimo.