17-1 is never enough

The Red Sox beat the unspeakables on Friday in a 17-1 drubbing that matched May 28th's pantsing run for run, yet I still can't watch these two teams play with a regular heartbeat. I couldn't hate this year's Y*****s any more if they stole my house and killed my children.

This weekend's daytrip was to Erin's birthday/graduation/housewarming party in Connecticut. Sandwiched between trips to Cape Cod (Jill's cousin party), Maine (4th of July with Byron and Alyssa), New Hampshire (party at Ginella and Scott's), Saratoga (one of the next two weekends), Rochester (Beth's 8/7 wedding), and more possible Connecticut and Maine jaunts, Jill and I will have made daytrips to every New England state except Vermont in a six-week span, and I didn't blog adequately about any of them. The reason: work is still retardedly busy, and there's no end in sight until my August vacation.

Gee.