Mushy stuff

On Thursday after Aaron Boone made his beautiful home run to beat the Red Sox in the 11th inning, I wrote "I heart Aaron Boone" on my wall. But yesterday he fumbled a catch to stop Andy Pettite from getting a shutout. Pettite looked like he was pouting too. He's my favorite pitcher, now that El Duque is gone.

I spent this weekend at a beach house in Cape May, NJ. Yeah simple living. It was so beautiful that as soon as I walked in, it thought "I could be a writer here." It was bought by the Jesuits right after WWII for $12,000, and now I'm sure it's worth millions, because it's right across the boardwalk from the beach. I think Dr. Shutt's hypothesis might be right. The Church never dies, so it just keeps accumulating property.

I got another letter from my boyfriend on Friday. Don't get me wrong, it sucks that we're so far apart this year, but I think some good will come of it. We were always very bad about expressing our feelings. James is just shy and reserved in general, and I can babble on any subject in the world except for mushy stuff. But last week when I was writing him, I was just bawling, letting him know exactly how much I loved him and needed him, and he's doing the same.

The funny thing is, this breakthrough comes at the exact same time that I'm considering leaving him for another man. But I don't think it would work out with the other guy, considering he asked out Beth. Sometimes life is very tricky.