tuesday morning delivery.

in

sometimes i feel my body actually craving the expulsion of words. i feel them banging around in my chest cavity, pushing against my stomach and ricocheting off my collarbone. gestating like a child in the womb ready to be birthed. with not enough space, they squirm, trying to find a comfortable position. yet there is no comfortable position in this too-small-body that was only meant to be a temporary home.


but i don't yet know the child's name. and i have no idea what words i am ready to birth. all i know is, i am so full with them i feel as though i might explode. 

who i am. today.

in



i love coffee. i love the smell. desperately, i love it. 
i like waking up early in the morning. when the world is new all over again.
and i take cabs way more often than i should.
i'm constantly losing things--my patience included.
i don't know how to flirt. well, not with anyone i actually like. 
and i do not want to date an actor. because i know that it's hard, i don't need to talk about it. or hear about it. or smile, sympathetically. 
i've yet to turn in my taxes to my father. instead i stress about it. it's july. taxes are due in april. correction, were due. by the time i hand them over, i'm going have to begin again, for this year.
i still don't know how to cook. 
and i still panic about opening my checking account.
i fantasize about going to graduate school. and fulfilling the college experience (or some version of it). but i have yet to buy the gre study guide from the bookstore. 
i fantasize about anonymity in a city where familiar faces are a regular attraction, but friends are harder to come by.
i complain. much too often. i think it's my standby. if i'm uncomfortable, or there's a lull in the conversation--i'll start to complain. note to self: change this. immediately.
more often than not i'll sleep with the covers pulled all the way up--covering my head completely. i think it makes me feel safe. 
i've given up soda. turns out all that fake sugar really is bad for you. 
now i drink seltzer water. with lemon. 
and i'm falling in love with soy ice cream. 
and challah bread. yes, this good catholic girl loves challah bread. it reminds me of potato rolls. remember those? 
i can't seem to keep my room clean. or throw anything away. 
i panic about little things. like flirting (see above). 
and i can't keep my mouth shut. or play pretend when i need to.
but the flowers outside my window are in full bloom and i'm feeling closer to them than i have in a very, very long time.

the son of america's great pastime.

in

70 years ago today, one of the greatest ball players of all time (and one hell of a man), Lou Gehrig, gave the following speech:





"Fans, for the past two weeks you have been reading about the bad break I got. Yet today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of this earth. I have been in ballparks for seventeen years and have never received anything but kindness and encouragement from you fans. Look at these grand men. Which of you wouldn't consider it the highlight of his career just to associate with them for even one day?

Sure I'm lucky. Who wouldn't consider it an honor to have known Jacob Ruppert? Also, the builder of baseball's greatest empire, Ed Barrow? To have spent six years with that wonderful little fellow, Miller Huggins? Then to have spent the next nine years with that outstanding leader, that smart student of psychology, the best manager in baseball today, Joe McCarthy?

Sure I'm lucky. When the New York Giants, a team you would give your right arm to beat, and vice versa, sends you a gift -- that's something. When everybody down to the groundskeepers and those boys in white coats remember you with trophies -- that's something. When you have a wonderful mother-in-law who takes sides with you in squabbles with her own daughter -- that's something. When you have a father and a mother who work all their lives so you can have an education and build your body -- it's a blessing. When you have a wife who has been a tower of strength and shown more courage than you dreamed existed -- that's the finest I know.

So I close in saying that I may have had a tough break, but I have an awful lot to live for."





Today during the seventh inning stretch it will be read at ballparks all across the country to raise awareness for ALS.





I can't think of a better way to celebrate this country of our's than by celebrating one of the greatest men to ever call it home.





Happy Fourth of July!