I ate, ate, ate for the home team

Major League Baseball.

How I really don't care one way or another. But it's still fun. I'm all about the ambiance. And the food. Oh, the food. I could spend a month's paycheck on the food at games. And with the prices there, it's likely I would walk away with only 10 items. Highway robbery. It's ridiculous. But I digress.

I scored some sah-weet tickets from a fellow colleague of mine. They're season ticket holders, so our seats were incredible. Incredible for someone who usually spends the entire game nursing a nosebleed from the extreme elevation of the cheap seats.

Anyhoo, I grabbed three friends, and we set off for Seattle early yesterday morning. We enjoyed good conversation and good coffee. And we enjoyed the sites of the freeway. Like this one:

We all found this rather offensive. Now, I'm certain that the owner of this company is named Smith or Mason, but I watch Criminal Minds. I am aware of other interpretations of these initials. And the "licensed and bonded" advertisement? That just sealed it. "It" being creepy, that is.

We all felt better after seeing this advertisement:


Way to represent the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, fellow freeway driver. I applaud your witnessing.

This picture just made me laugh. Why? Because the Space Needle is a Seattle landmark. And because there is a crane in the picture. Someone must have known Ghetto Barbie was coming to town.

After a DELICIOUS lunch of fish 'n chips at The Pyramid Brewery (insert promotional advertisement here), we walked all the way across the street to Safeco.

Quick pic! This was taken approximately .748 seconds before "lady on the far left" walked right through our picture. Whew. Way too close.

Not. Bad. At. All. I didn't get a single nosebleed.

Daniel was in his glory. And he kept score "official style" the entire game. At one point, I thought he was going to make his way upstairs to talk to the big guns in charge of the score and minor details like RBI's, RBA's, DVR's and CBS's, but he refrained from embarrassing his lovely wife, who got stuck behind "Mr. Rude about me popping my gum".

Poor Erin. Notice all the empty seats in front of Mr. Rude. Erin got stuck behind the ONE person of height value within a 10 row radius.

Genius Leslie chose the vanity shoes as opposed to the common sense tennis shoes like the rest of us. We made a little trip to the Team Store during the 5th inning to purchase a rather spendy pair of socks, which may I say look simply stunning with her black flats. And America's Next Top Model is....not Leslie.

I think they're saying, "If you let the Mariners get a run to end this game, I will cut your salary in half. Yeah. That's right. You just try to survive on only 5 million a year!" Or they could be talking about the crazy lady behind home plate who keeps using flash photography. I'm not really sure.

This is my Mariner boyfriend. Good at what he does. And easy on the eyes.

This picture actually made my teeth start to sweat. Oh Lordy.

"Can we just get this over with so I can go into the stands and sit with that girl who can't stop drooling, please."

One more. Ahhhhh....

All that drooling made me hungry. My go-to snack at a Mariner's game? The Berry Kabobs. Dipped in chocolate. Oh. My. Heavens. I can do without the peanuts and crackerjacks, but these nuggets of heaven make me truly not care if I ever get back.

The dementor-looking fan sitting next to me? That would be Leslie. She got cold. Sissy.

What a day. And apparently sitting all day really wipes a barbie out. I couldn't get into my jammies fast enough when I got home. I was able to hold off an hour and watch my favored to win cowboys sail, or should I say ride, into the finals on The Amazing Race. Please, please, pleeeeeeeease make it to the finish line first next week, my Wrangler wearing, city-fearing, cowboys. You deserve it. And just once I would like someone that I chose from the beginning on a reality show to win. Ahem. Boston Rob. I am still bitter about your premature exit from Samoa.

Ghetto Barbie out...