Do you believe in Faries?

That bitch owes me big.



Anyone who's seen the Mary Martin version of Peter Pan knows the scene...

"Do you believe?" he cried.

Tink sat up in bed almost briskly to listen to her fate.

She fancied she heard answers in the affirmative, and then again she wasn't
sure.

"What do you think?" she asked Peter.

"If you believe," he shouted to them, "clap your hands; don't let Tink
die."

Many clapped.

Some didn't.

A few beasts hissed.

In case you were wondering, from now on, I will be one of the hissing beasts.



Today was the O's Home Opener, and of course I missed the game. Strangely enough, it was my choice. See, Arizona just got back to town, and while he was gone, he didn't mention anything about the game. Then, the "pajama game" happened, and I thought that he wasn't as into me as I was into him. So I decided to give him up emotionally, but since he was out of town, we didn't exactly have the conversation that completely ended the situation.



But still, in order to have gone to the game, Bea and I would have had to come up with our own tickets. Then we would have done this whole switching around thing where we would have been in the "good seats" for half the game and the "bad seats" for the other half.



Small problem, Bea and I never found tickets.



So, there we were, resigned to not going and making plans to find a sports bar to go watch the game at. Until I got the most random text last night: What's the plan for tomorrow?



Tomorrow? I thought we weren't going! I thought he had completely forgotten about the plan since he hadn't mentioned anything about it in six weeks.



Frankly, I shouldn't have been surprised. After all, this wasn't the first time he had pulled a stunt just like this...tossing out a half plan, ignoring me for an extended period of time, and then coming out of left field with the idea that I had somehow agreed to the whole thing.



Almost immediately, I decided that I wasn't going to play this game again. I was honest: Bea and I never found tickets, and started the debate amongst the group.



At one point, I threw out the idea that "If he was a 'gentleman,' he'd give US the tickets, and let us find cute boys." Imagine my surprise when, just after I hit the "SEND" button, he called with that very idea. Well, not the cute boys part, but he offered to let us sit together, and he'd take the odd-ball ticket on the other side of the stadium.



I was tempted. Very tempted. Then, I started thinking. Would it really be right to take the seats? After all, it wasn't like he was going to get another shot with me. If I took them, he may have interpreted that as a signal that I was willing to play along with his totally screwed up sense of what's supposed to happen when someone shaves her legs and flies 3,000 miles to see someone else.



So again, I was honest: Way too cold to go today. And I started to convince myself of that very fact.



Until, of course, I actually went outside to meet Bea at the bar. The weather was actually gorgeous. A little chillier than the normal start of the season, I suppose, but certainly managable.



So really, it was down to the ethics fairy. She was the whole reason I decided to miss the game.



Does anyone have any bug spray?