Twins at Kansas City. Twins 2, Royals 1.

First thing's first:

M-I-E-N-T-K-I-E-W-I-C-Z

Ahhhhhhhh.

That's better.

At Batgirl's two week retreat she learned to take pleasure in the simple things. A child's smile. The smell of a spring flower. That rash clearing up. It helped her, it did, because when the Twins have runners on first and third in the seventh with no outs in a one-run game and fail to score, it's important to remember the smell of a child's rash. Batgirl learned that. She also learned to accept the things she cannot change and the strength to change the things she can and the wisdom to know the difference.

The truth is, Batgirl wasn't so happy about going on her retreat. She walked into the BatQuarters one night and Goober was there, and Jeb, and Sooz and the BatKitties Three, and they all said things to her, hurtful things, even the BatBaby who has drinking problems of her own let me tell you, and then there was this cab waiting for her and they threw her in by the scruff of her neck. But first she had to go to the dentist because she activated her TMJ on some Big League Chew and the dentist wouldn't give her Novocain because of her Ambiorix habit, and he drilled a hole in her jaw and it hurt like a Jim Thome homer, I tell you what. Then Batgirl went right to the airport and boarded the plane covered in blood and saliva and Batkitty hairball and Big League Chew, which is really hard to get out of your hair if you fall asleep chewing on it, and BatMom says use peanut butter but she says that about everything, and meanwhile Batgirl's bleeding all over her seat, and the flight attendants gave her the stink eye and someone whispered that she must be a Bitch Sox fan, and it hurt, it did, but not as badly as that whole dental procedure without Novacain and that just ain't right, is it? I mean just because Batgirl's got a little bit of a problem she has rights, too, she has rights to painkillers and whatever else it takes to numb the pain of daily existence because have you seen our team ERA? Batgirl can't even count that high when she's sober. Which she is now. Totally.

But that was just the physical journey, and as Batgirl learned the last two weeks it's the spiritual journey that counts. It's appreciating the present moment. Breathe in and out. I am one with the me. I am awake and aware. I am me living this moment conscious all the time that I am me being awake and aware of how the Twins do not know how to play Base Ball. It is so much better this way because Batgirl was heading for trouble, I mean there was that one time when she got totally hopped up on Happy Happy Fun Drink and ran the cop down with her BatPrius and had to spend three months in prison and prison will rip apart your soul, you know, it will take it out of your chest and chew it up and spit it out and stomp on it and turn it into BatKitty litter and BatKitty #1 is having digestive issues if you get my meaning—in other words prison is almost as bad as watching last week's games. But that was then, this is now, and Batgirl is all about positive self-affirmations and visualizing success and T-Fat handles a mean wet baseball and Lew Ford runs his little heart out and Ruben "Reuben" Sierra does what he's supposed to do because he is a "professional baseball player" and Little Nicky Punto goes wee wee wee all the way home and there's nothing pretty about it but we win and it is as if a million little pieces come together and Batgirl breathes in and out and, for tonight, is at peace.

A huge belated BatThankYou to RD for filling in so wonderfully during Batgirl's "rest."

Posted by Batgirl at April 25, 2006 10:50 PM