Every other weekend this summer, Bri and her fellow summer music workshop pals, have been doing the retirement home circuit. They each spend the previous week working on new pieces to play in a recital, with some of them accompanied by a pianist. The attire for this has been difficult for us, because Bri does not wear dresses…at all…ever. Since we have this issue with her, for the past couple of months, she has stuck with her long, black orchestra gown. Technically, it is a dress, but she doesn’t have issue with it, because in her mind, it is a uniform. All the girls in the orchestra have to wear them for formal performances, and black clothing is always her first choice.

Her cello teacher complained about the dress and asked us to get her something else to wear. His reasoning was that when you are playing with an orchestra, you want to blend in and fade into the background. However, in a recital, you really need to stand out a bit more. He pretty much insisted that this week, she have something new. A dress that was not black, and was a design that would be completely out of character for her to wear. The suggestions were pink, blue floral or anything outside of her typical goth garb. By the look on her face, I knew it was going to be a hard sell.

While we were at work, I asked Sheryl, “Hey, you want some cheap entertainment this weekend? I have to go buy Bri a pretty dress. Maybe something in pink.” Sheryl started cracking up, because she knew Bri did not wear dresses and despises the color pink or anything else pastel-hued. She said she was definitely in, so we made a date for Saturday afternoon following Bri’s lesson, to head to the mall.

I loathe shopping. There is no part of it that appeals to me. The crowds, lines and limited selections just drive me nuts. Not only did we have to find Bri a dress, it had to be something out of the ordinary for her, and long enough to accommodate a cello between her legs. You know how hard that is in the middle of the summer, when it is a thousand degrees in Vegas?

We found an assortment of frilly, floral and pastel-colored dresses and dragged Bri into the dressing room. One of them was so awful. It had a black satin pleated bottom, a white sleeveless top section, and the two were separated by a powder pink satin ribbon and bow. When she put it on, you could see the disgust on her face, as she exclaimed, “You wouldn’t make me wear THIS?” We both just laughed and said, “Nah, we were never serious about that being a choice. It was just for our own personal entertainment.” I had to have SOME FUN with this, since I was forced into going shopping. Satan reputation to uphold, after all. She quickly stomped off into the dressing room to rip the foulness from her body.

In the end, the one that looked the best on her and would work with the cello, was black. it had tiny white polka dots all over, a small black petticoat underneath, and the waist and trim along the bottom were a bright pink ribbon. I topped it off with a matching pink satin headband, and she was A-D-O-R-A-B-L-E! I hadn’t had this much fun dressing her up, since she was much smaller. The problem was, it was black, and he had said no to that. So, I called him and said, “The out of character thing is just going to have to be that she is in a dress. This one is so pretty, but it is primarily black.” He was not happy, but finally relented. My mother has already called begging for LOTS of pictures. Oh…there will be plenty.

Unless it is a sequel to The Matrix or Harry Potter, you wouldn’t catch me dead out on the opening night of a new movie. I hate being crowded and above all, standing in line. You iPhone people, you’re just CRAZY.

Yesterday afternoon, I got a text message from Mark that said, “You ARE going to see the new Batman with me at 7:40. I am buying the tickets right now.” Batman? No really, Batman? When I was a kid, I used to watch the old shows on TV, but I can honestly say that the movies did make me want to see them. The only one I remembered seeing was most of a recent one in which Katie Holmes was in. I think it was Batman Begins. My reluctance to participate in the Caped Crusader’s most recent epic, just annoyed Mark. So, I just shut my mouth, sucked it up and moved everything around with Bri so I could go with him to the movies.

We lucked out, got there early, and didn’t have to mess with any crowds in the theater. We grabbed a couple of center seats (I hate going to the movies if I can’t be in the center), got some popcorn and snuggled up waiting for it to start. I was pleasantly surprised, it was actually really good. Heath Ledger did a phenomenal job as The Joker, and that wasn’t an easy role to pull off. Of course, there were many cool gadgets abound in the movies, so it wasn’t that hard to hold my interest. Although, at one point, I did lean over and say, “I like the little ears on his outfit. So cute.” I’m such a chick.

Everything was going fine, until the last half hour or so. Without ruining anything, there was a device that displayed phone conversations for the entire city and they could pinpoint a match. This was going to be used to triangulate The Joker’s position. Scary stuff, folks, but as we all know, there is a fine line between fiction and reality. Mark leans over to me and asks what I would do with such a device, aware of my associations in the dark realm of telephony and computing.

“I would destroy it,” was my answer. He looked at me kind of surprised, to which I gave my normal stance for those of you that know me, “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.” If that doesn’t make sense, legal and ethical are actually two different things, and the way you execute the two determines your character. I won’t give any more details on the movie, but suffice it to say, I spent the last 30 minutes watching and reflecting on my own experiences of the past seven years. A statement to the effect of “sometimes the truth isn’t good enough…sometimes people deserve to have their faith rewarded.” I just lost it, and he had to wipe my tears away as we left the theater and headed back to the car.

For most of you that don’t know me on that personal of a level, the last paragraph might not make sense. However, for those that do, you will understand why this messed with my head.

Batman. Not some deep, potential Oscar-winning flick that sends me over the edge, but Batman. Unbelievable.

Go see it.

I’m not a big sports fan. However, this year, I have a renewed interest in baseball thanks to Mark. Yes, baseball—-in my opinion, the most boring thing in the world to watch on television. I don’t mind going out to the ballpark to watch a game, but I can’t stand sitting for three hours in front of the tube.

Right now, leading the National League, with a standing of 57-38 are the Central Division’s Chicago Cubs. Mark’s favorite team, and a group that hasn’t seen a World Series victory in 100 years, winning their last one in 1908. He is convinced that this is the year that all of that will change, and the Cubs will be going all the way. He has been slowly indoctrinating to the team, and even sent me an MP3 of a song called “Go, Cubs, Go!” that the fans sing at Wrigley whenever they win.

We had a little misunderstanding a few weeks ago, and they lost every game during those few days. I was checking the scoreboard every day, just to see. When he came to his senses and everything was made right, they started winning again, and I jabbed with, “I told you I was a good luck charm. I see your team has been sucking for the last few days.” I figured I picked up major girlfriend points for actually keeping up with the standings, although some of it was negated because it was the San Francisco Giants that had put the beating on them.

A couple of days later, I started asking about them making it to the World Series. He said if that happened, he would probably have to keep me around for awhile. Always needing clarification, I said, “They just have to make it to the World Series, right? They don’t have to win, do they?” He replied with, “If they win, you advance to the bonus round.”

I NEED TO KNOW WHAT THIS BONUS ROUND HE SPEAKS OF, IS ALL ABOUT.

I can’t imagine this guy getting much better. So, everybody join with me in sending nothing but good wishes out to Wrigley Field. We need to gather all the good karma and mojo, and point it at Lou Piniella and the Cubs to not only make it to the World Series, but to WIN. If you are even thinking of coming on here and posting anything negative about what is currently to me, THE GREATEST TEAM IN MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL, I may have to kill you. I know that all the women will understand what I am talking about here.

Maybe I should just shut off the comments…