Cold pizza for breakfast

Ever had cold pizza for breakfast? It's good, but it's never as good as the first warm, gooey cheezy slice you had the night before. Even if you stick it in the microwave, it's still not the same. Nonetheless, you eat it because it's there, and at least it's something for breakfast and it simply works. Dodgers won today. Yay! But there was something anticlimactic about today's win, especially after yesterday's no hitter. Ryu was magnificent! Striking out batters left and right, he was amazing. And up to the eighth inning, it was a perfect game. New Girls: Something very important to note: Baseball is an extremely superstitious game. Players, Fans, Announcers (MOST Announcers) all know the rule: DO NOT SPEAK of a Perfect Game DURING the said possible Perfect Game while it is happening. Doing so runs the risk of jinxing it. Do not argue logic here. Just respect the tradition. So if you are ever watching a game with someone and you happen to notice they have grown quiet and still, and you happen to realize that the other Team hasn't had a hit or any base runners DO NOT - I repeat- DO NOT bring it up in conversation! Ok, back to today's game. Ryu was brilliant on the mound. PIZZA! But the Announcer kept jabbering on and on and on and on and on... worse than a Girl!- about the fact that there might be a perfect game at stake here. True to superstition, the "Perfect Game" was spoiled when a runner was allowed on base. Ryu finally handed control of his near perfection to the bullpen (always a YIKES lately). By the time the game was over, Dodgers had won, but the other team had scored a few runs. Once again, the bull pen struggled to get the final outs.The game had lost some of its luster. Cold pizza. Let's relate: Girl Talk: You're all set for the date. Favorite heels, favorite lip gloss, and he even shows up with flowers. (Do Guys even do that anymore?) The first hour or so goes well. Then he says something stupid. I mean really stupid. (Insert your own definition of stupid here.) But he instantly realizes his mistake, backpedals and apologizes. You can tell he's sincere with the apology, and so you decide to overlook the stupid, but the rest of the evening is just awkward. He leans in to kiss you goodnight, you go with it, and thank goodness he's a good kisser. So on that note you agree to see him again. As you go inside, you shake your head to yourself.... a slightly anticlimactic ending after a great start. This was today's game. We won- yes. I'll take the win. But in the end, it was like a sandwich that fell in the sand. You still eat it because it's all you brought and you're hungry, but just not as enjoyable.
Look, I know life's not easy, and it wouldn't be any fun if it were (although I might be willing to try the easy route now and again). Life's not easy and "Perfect" is rare. But here's the thing: you know it when you see it. Or hear it. Or feel it. You just know it. And if you don't know it, then the butterflies will tell you. That's the zsa zsa zsu. You don't dare speak of it so as not to jinx it. You just... go with it. You just... enjoy it. And if you're lucky, Perfect will linger a little longer than 8 innings. And so will the flowers.