The Red Sea

- Saturday -

Sweaty palms. Short breaths. I can feel the roots of the hairs in my neck straining, writhing, fighting to push through the skin on the back of my neck. Pacing back and forth, I am entirely myopic-even when I deliberately try to let my mind wander, the effort comes to no avail. ''Where is he?!?'' is all that my mind can process. The dance of fright and frustration in my mind is too much to bear. I'm worried about ulcers-I can feel them forming now! Oh no, oh no. What am I going to do?
If any of this sounds unsettling or awful to you, take my advice: don't buy highly-demanded tickets to a football game on Craigslist. And if for some reason you do, don't prepay using PayPal. It just causes anguish. Eventually, Paul did show up with my tickets (45 minutes late) and I almost gave him a hug. All my stress was fou naught (the story of my life, go figure). The weight of this opportunity to go to a Liverpool home match is something that I cannot adequately convey in words, so let me leave you with this simple explanation: the match ended in a 0-0 tie, and I still loved every second of the experience. Watching and participating with the sea of red shirts as it jumped, swayed, screamed and sang brought a sense of enchantment to me that I've not experienced since going to Disneyworld. I've got tons of pictures, and I'll tell anyone all about it, but I've been too long winded already.