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Why I love baseball games even though I don’t like baseball

Walking into Dodger Stadium on a warm summer night has to be one of my favorite feelings in the whole world. I love the rush of being with thousands of die-hard fans, yelling and cheering, everyone excited to see the beloved Los Angeles Dodgers. From the overpriced food to the bright splashes of blue scattered everywhere, the atmosphere is unmatchable. I walk into the stadium and suddenly I have an inexplicable sense that I would legitimately die for this team.
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Fiat tenebris: On escapism and the PG&E blackout

There was supposed to be a blackout today. And yesterday. For all I know, there was one. But living in the Unit 2 residence halls, three blocks from campus and the faint murmurs of the powerless residence halls on Durant Avenue, no utility faults have crossed my radar.
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Lovable Losers

I don’t know why I love the Cubs so much. They are consistent losers. Despite the historical mysticism, Wrigley Field is an outdated dump — my first seat at the park was directly behind a large support pole. But I do know that I love my family. I love being in Chicago. I love sitting in my grandfather’s den and watching him angrily storm out. I love Portillos, and I love laughing with my family.
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