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I am not one to watch televised sports. I like sports ok, I just can’t sit and watch them on television. If I’m going to watch a sport, I want to have each and every one of my senses assaulted during each and every minute of the game. I want my ears to ring from the noise level. I want my stomach churning from the combination of arena hot dogs with sauerkraut and onions, beer and too much cotton candy. I want my eyes to twitch from trying to follow the game, the big ass tv and the antics of the crowd all around me at once. I want my nose to sting from the bitter smell of peanuts, beer and the vomit on the floor at the feet of the 20-somethings two rows down. I want my hips to scream from the pressure of the stadium seats that press against them while the seat bottom presses behind my knees and slowly cuts off the circulation intended for my feet (really, folks would it be too hard to make bigger seats? If I was built like an athlete, I’d be out on the field with the athletes instead of sitting on my ass trying to balance beer and hotdogs on my belly!).
There is one sport, though that I even love on television. That sport is hockey. Now, I’m not going to try and pass myself off as the ultimate authority on hockey. I have a very rudimentary knowledge of the game, at best. The teams go back & forth across the ice trying to get the puck in their opponents net—got it! My fascination with the game is not so much about the beauty of the game as it is a much more Middle School-type of interest. The fact is: if there is going to be a fight, I’ll show up to watch. And, I just can’t get enough laughs out of some of the sentences that the word “puck” comes up in. Who can get enough of hearing the commentators tell us that the team needs to “get the puck out of the zone”, or “get the puck away from the goalie”? And my personal favorite is when a puck becomes airborne. Who doesn’t want to hear an old guy in a suit talk about “a flying puck”? Oh, the fun we have on hockey night.
Oh, and by the way, Go Avs!! And for those who aren’t Avs fans…take a flying puck!
I’m back!
I decided it was finally time to put an end to my online “vacation”. The fact is, I’m no more well-rested, peaceful or pleasant to be around than I was several months ago, so why keep all this euphoria to myself?
What have I been up to for all these months? (OK, it’s only been 4 months, but in my mind it has seemed like an eternity to my two regular readers). I’ve done some traveling, both for work and for pleasure. I’ve been to some awesome places and some that you can’t find on any formal map (as a matter of fact, the only maps some of these places are on are the hand-drawn napkin maps provided to me by the good folks at the middle of nowhere Conoco stations throughout the world!). Never in my life did I think that getting directions would include the words “turn at the big weed by the old fence post that’s still standing”, but you don’t know relief until you dodge that last mud-filled rut and almost run over that post!
I was also happy to go to some civilized locations. Phoenix (although I don’t recommend that in July–just sayin’!); Washington; Montana; Portland, OR; Sand Point, Idaho; Denver; and New Orleans (how the hell do you people live with that humidity??).
I spent some quality time with my kids, of course. The whole summer. Three entire months. All day, every day. Yep. Just me and the kids. As you can imagine, the sales for Sunshine Wheat had a dramatic increase during the summer. I think I also single-handedly financed grape harvesting for the next three years at Carlson Vineyards (gotta give a shout out for Laughing Cat Riesling!!).
I did suffer from one devastating event since I last posted. I had another f***ing birthday. Good God, why don’t they ever stop? I was quite clear that I would NOT keep doing that shit past the age of 33 and yet they just keep coming. Like that girl who keeps knocking on my door every 3 weeks trying to share Bible passages with me and invite me to church. I keep saying, “No”, but they just keep coming. I stop answering the door, and they keep coming. I get all liquored up and pass out naked on the front lawn (with a shotgun!), and they keep coming. Eh! It’s so irritating. And I try my hardest to fight off aging. I exfolliate and moisturize and avoid smiling or showing any joy to avoid wrinkling my face (alright, and because I’m just completely incapable of expressing any joy!). Now, the one thing I want out of life, the one thing that will make me happy more pleasant is being denied to me by The Hubbin’. I mean, really, what does it matter if Botox freezes my face? I’m not gonna be smiling anyway, am I? I’m just going to continue looking at everyone with the same neutral expression I’ve been using for the past ten years, the one that doesn’t convey complete disgust with every person I come into contact with. It’s a little Botox. What else am I gonna ask for? A sewing machine? (LOL, oh, crap, I think I peed myself a little at the thought of that!)
So, yes. I’m still the same miserable, crabby, sarcastic, slacker mom I was 4 months ago. And I won’t be keeping my misery to myself any more!
Stumble It!
Stumble It!