Here are some highlights:
Last Sunday I finally made it to an Akron Aeros game where I melted… not only for temperatures in excess of 80 degrees, but the hotness they like to call Trevor Crowe. Okay, so not only is he incredibly good looking (yeah, I saw him looking at me from the batter box — I was in a position to not have cat-calling privileges!), but he is Major League ready in my book. Okay, my black book. Seeing as how it was impossible to pass along my phone number while he has on-base, I took my grumpy/sweaty ass out for some chili cheese fries at Scorchers in the valley. Tuesday and Wednesday evening were perfect for Tribe games. On top of the free shit I acquired from previous posted incident, I had a fabulous foot-in-mouth conversation at the Winking Lizard about Grady Sizemore’s homerun (since I was decked in my new Sizemore jersey)… with Angels’ pitcher, Jered Weaver. He remarked (rather curtly): at least we still won. Yup. He’d be the guy that gave up that run. Wednesday’s game proved to be similarly enjoyable as we a) won b) had perfection in patio weather to enjoy some brews at The Clevelander and c) partied all night (with some Angels AGAIN) at the Velvet Dog. Velveeta-shells-n-CHEESE ended up being a pretty sweet night out for a Wednesday. Some extremely hot chick that does Tae-bo 3 times a week tried to make out with me (I said “tried to…”) Why? …who asks such questions? Apparently she needed some convincing that the guys socializing with us were really part of MLB organization (they were).
Being consumed with work responsibilities (and “talks” with dating probables moving at a warp speed pace), I missed my coolcleveland “Get Wild” party on Thursday and any sort of drinking 
potential for Friday. Made up for time-to-myself with HSB* Saturday night in the Warehouse District. The four hotties food-coated the bellies at Waterstreet Grille over which-SATC-character-are-you conversations (for whatever reason, I’m always Samantha). When waiter was asked if he knew which one was Miranda, he remarked with this post’s title. Not much for all greasy/fattening options on the menu, I succumbed to a grilled cheese sandwich and rice (all while watching the sisters go to town on the four-cheese macaroni and cheese bowl). Started off with Liquid for pre-drunk drink tabs… walked around – bored. Invitation extended from the Blind Pig door guy for “Mattapalooza.” I’m not 
even sure who “Matt” was — Matt, the owner, Mat?? Hell, it didn’t look like his fine ass in those pictures. (How many ‘paloozas can I fit into my summer schedule? Geesh). Never did make it to Dive Bar for Part II of ‘ooza. Since my sis from Phoenix was here, we had to get her into a little bit of everything, which didn’t bring us back north on W. 6th. Bars to follow: Bar Flyy (where I spilled a drink on ex: HSS — perfect!) and Velvet Dog (where I picked up… a 24-year old. Feh!) When a conversation begins with age and ends with “does it bother you that I’m only 24?” — it’s destined for disaster. 
I get home, drunk text another ex (well, he texted me first), kill a spider, then break a bowl on my granite counter.
Sunday was saved for family (and not blowing them off for dumb boys) and laundry… and the season finale of “The Simple Life” (seriously, Nicole, we need to talk!)… and the eleven o’clock news, which may or not have included my new favorite weatherman. C’mon, I only get him twice a week!
And today, I’m all signed up for fall classes at CSU. Two weeks left of summer freedom.
*Hot Sister Brigade
