A night-past-full moon slides through the blinds of my room and Barenaked Ladies have sold out. My TV is on, a Comedy Central rerun of Saturday Night Live with Terri Hatcher hosting and Dave Matthews Band performing, and the cheerleaders (Will Ferrell and Sherri Oteri) skit on now. But a moment ago, twice within three commercials actually, I hear "One Week" coming from across the room, and it's only a Mitsubishi commercial. The Powerpuff Girls would definitely boo.

I had a great birthday, with friends from Philadelphia, New York and New Orleans in town to help me celebrate. We went to the ballgame, I worked, they had fun, and then we finished the night with drinks at Belmar's Boat House. But the interesting thing about my birthday was my horoscope, which I don't normally read, but did yesterday because they were on the same page as Dave Barry's column. They are as follows:

IF TODAY is your birthday ... you are sensitive, creative and loyal. You can be emotional, passionate. Family, home and marriage could be major elements in your life. Capricorn, Cancer people play paramount roles, could have these letters, initials in names: B, K, T. During October, major domestic adjustment occurs that could include change of residence, marital status. December most memorable!

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): People discover your sense of humor. Focus on home, family and marital status. By laughing at your own foibles, you are seen as charming, intelligent. Cancer native involved.

And for those who don't know, here's why it's freaky: I am sensitive, creative and loyal. I can be emotional, passionate � and have been recently. Though I don't know any Capricorns, my mom is a Cancer. I will likely be moving, as early as the end of October. And December will be memorable, I know. I am, of course, charming and intelligent too, and able to laugh at my own foibles.

So the season ended today. Five months and 140 games � 70 home and 70 away � have come and gone. I've covered more than 60 minor league baseball games since April 5, including five on the road. I've gone through a whole summer of long days, hot nights at the ballpark, some interesting nights out � not to mention a once-romantic interest in Erin, one of the team's employees. I had a feeling that come the end of the season that I'd be looking for something else, but I had no idea � even sitting in that North Carolina hotel room chatting with her online � that not only would the prospect of a new job and more time for fun with friends draw me to New York, but a great girl too.

The locker room was a rowdy scene � like the last day of school � with music playing to celebrate a third straight win, and players asking teammates for autographs. They packed up their bags, some leaving quickly, others taking their time. I wrote my story and a sidebar, then packed up my computer and notes and stood out on the balcony overlooking the field. A cool, soft breeze blew across the quiet stadium. Crows covered the outfield berm, cawing, and cars hummed on nearby New Hampshire Ave. A generator or air conditioning compressor hummed somewhere.

I went back inside and walked through the empty press box, turning off the lights as I left, the room left to the fading afternoon light coming through the beige blinds. Down in the lobby, I looked into the offices and saw, for the first time all season, the lights out, the door locked, the place quiet. I was one of the last to leave the ballpark. The front office and most of the players had headed over to a season-ending barbecue at the home of one group of players' host families, and I got in my car and drove off to the site of the second party (at Brian's mommy's house).

On the way, I saw a Camry with New Jersey's Conquer Cancer license plate � a special charity plate, the proceeds of which go to cancer research. The driver's arm hung out the window, a cigarette in hand. Later I saw one of Pennsylvania's Conserve Wildlife plates, those with that native Keystone State predator, the bengal tiger.

Over at Brian's, I was the fourth to arrive and second to leave, at 10:30, after the entire front office and a handful of players had arrived. It was a fitting, festive cap to the season. I stood there at the party at times and just felt the burden of the season lifted. I enjoyed covering minor league baseball for the summer, but it's the kind of job I take home with me. Even when I'm not at the ballpark, I'm thinking about baseball, about the team, about the next story I could write. When I'm strictly an editor, it all stays at the office. I leave work, and I don't think about it until the next day when I return.

But tomorrow's a busy day, and I should no longer be here typing away. So it's off to bed, hooray!