One is an Italian channel that Giovanna turned it to and the other is ABC, which has a longer time delay than the Italian channel so I'm watching the one and listening to the English broadcast on the other.
Giovanna, whose shift has long since finished, is off to the side of the newsroom, saying something that sounds a lot like "Die, die, die."
I have more of a Phil Jackson kind of approach, showing little emotion, although I can't help little outbursts when U.S. goalie Kasey Keller makes some really nice saves.
"It's horrible. Horrible," she says as the match ends in a 1-1 tie. "Italy scored two goals, one was for the other team."
"Sometimes you get chicken and sometimes you get feathers," I say with glee. I can use that phrase for the rest of my life. LOL
Today, flush with days of experience cleaning and packing up things at Kelley's parents house, I turned toward my own apartment. I must have thrown out ten boxes of things and relegated three more to my basement storage closet.
Cleaning up is a lot like the end stage of a tournament when your M<5 -- there's no reason to keep waiting for that perfect situation when you'll actually use that stack of papers or go through those old magazines. You just throw it away.
Early this morning, during a cigarette break at Drew's game, Brandie was talking about how guys are messy but she said that I, who was meticulously tending to two sucky room tables and one Be the Dealer table on my laptop, an earbud in one ear, must be neat.
"No -- my place is a sty," I said. I don't gravitate toward that way. In the past, I never had enough energy to deal with it all. I operate in spurts where I'll just get sick of being so messy and then all at once deal with it.
Going through a box of papers, I stop to flip through the pages of a newspaper's one-year anniversary of the Sept. 11 attacks. Curious, I flipped through. There on the pages was a picture of my freshman roommate, Karleton Fyfe, looking very similar to the way I knew him. It gave me chills knowing that he was on this flight when my uncle, an American pilot who regularly flew the Flight 11 route from Boston to L.A., was not.
I found lots of Card Player magazines. Old VCDs of the World Series of Poker. It'll be great to look at those again.
But the best thing is that my apartment is cleaner and less cluttered than it's ever been. I can hold a poker game there and not have it look like I'm insane.
Maybe it's the influence of a girl. Drew's place is looking really nice now that he's seeing Brandie. Finally I have the opportunity to show off my apartment for a change.