In early June, I went to New York for work. Since my meeting was conveniently scheduled for Friday afternoon, I arranged to meet up with my old college friend, Lauren D'Angelo.

Now, I have lived in Boston since 1994. Despite that length of tenure, I have remained true to my childhood loyalties. I have remained a New York Yankees fan. The experiences of the past 12 years would make a great book... The life of a Yankees fan in Boston. I am seriously considering writing it.

A trip to Stubhub.com (my first), and I purchased two tickets to a Yankees game that Friday night (June 9) against Oakland. Lauren and I went. The seats were awesome.

I was a maniac at the game. But that's because I have a lot of pent-up emotion. I can't cheer for the Yankees in Boston-- at least not outwardly. I really can't even cheer that loud when I am in my apartment, or I risk being heard by my neighbors and being outed. My close friends know I am a Yankee fan, and fortunately they have learned to accept it.

Since the Yankees were losing in the seventh inning by a bunch-- courtesy of another bad start by Randy Johnson, and since the game was in the middle of a rain delay-- Lauren and I left and went back to her home neighborhood in Hoboken. There, we went to a local bar and gave sage advice to a bunch of recent college grads. We served as proof that at age 30 one still can go out past midnight (now I remember that Lauren is not 30, yet. Sorry Lauren).

The next morning, as is customary, Lauren and I went to the famous diner in Hoboken and had pork roll and pancakes.

I have been eating a lot of pancakes lately. Probably why I am back up about 220. ugh.

peace...