Thursday, February 28, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Lofa Tatupu...coming to a gym near you!
So, yesterday I'm at the gym. And at our gym, we have this fixture there, this rather large gentleman that is in unbelievable shape. Like, maybe is a professional body builder, maybe is an unemployed NFL defensive lineman huge. Almost anytime, day or night, you go to the gym, this guy is there. And the other day he had someone with him. A fellow, in ridiculously good shape guy, wearing a Seahawks Lofa Tatupu shirt. Now, I really only know what a few people outside the Patriots look like, but Lofa I'm semi familiar with, he's a linebacker, played at USC, plays for Seattle, and is of Hawaiian descent. The gentleman walking on the treadmill next to me (low speed, high incline) is about 6'2", largely built, and looks like freaking Lofa Tatupu. Now I'm distracted and am really thinking that it's probably him. If it was Lofa, does he wear his own shirt? Probably not. But that didn't matter to me.
(I was just in bed for like, a 1/2 hour when I remembered that I forgot to google image search Lofa last night. So I get out and come out to the living room to check on my laptop.
Roommate: What are you doing? Thought you went to bed.
Me: Yeah, I think I saw an NFL lineman at the gym yesterday, so I'm google imaging him.
Roommate: Is he from NC?
Me: No, he plays for Seattle and is from Hawaii.
Roommate: But you think you saw him here. At Gold's Gym. In New Bern, NC.
Me: Well, yes, I actually kind of do.
Roommate: Okayyyyy. )
Here's how this worked in my head. BuiltGymMan and Lofa went to USC together and played football. BGM did not quite have what it takes to make it to the NFL, and has turned to bodybuilding to keep the competitive juices flowing. Lofa, went to Hawaii at the end of the NFL season. Then went up to Massachusetts to visit his dad (a coach at Curry College), and is hanging with his old USC bud in New Bern before heading to Seattle to get ready for the first Seahawks mini camp. I finally remembered seeing Lofa tonight, so I google imaged him. And well, I don't think they are the same person. But they do resemble eachother. So, now I think maybe I saw Lofa's cousin Loofah.
Reasons why I hate being a girl / a member of this society...
It have two cousins, an uncle, and my mom's birthday in the next few weeks, so I was perusing the card section at Target the other day and came across this one, meant probably for a girl to give to an other girl. I'm assuming all this because I don't know what kind of stupid you'd have to be to find this funny.
On the outside to the card, it says, "Top Ten Signs That You Are In Hell"
10. Convenient sign that reads, "You are now in hell". Now, I am just a humble school teacher, not a marketing guru, but I think that #10 means, "We could only think of 9 funny things".
9. Nothing but sports, fishing, and the Three Stooges on every TV channel. Now, I'm not a huge 3 Stooges fan, but I can handle an episode every now and then. Not crazy about watching fishing on TV, but I like seeing where they go to fish, like, the Keys. Who doesn't love the Keys? And as for the 24 hour sports? Does that mean we get Dish? NFL Network? NESN? Again, not seeing the point.
8. All the shoe stores are closed. Is the packy open?
7. One stall in the ladies room, and no toilet paper. While this is a bit of a conundrum; most of my favorite places in the world have one stall and no toilet paper. Mainly, Lietrims and Countryfest.
6. Skinny jeans are back in style. Not my favorite look, but not exactly what I would imagine "hell" to be.
5. You're the only one of your girlfriends NOT to get carded at the bar. But there's a bar? And I'm at it with my girlfriends? That's pretty hellish.
4. Men all look hot - but only because they're enveloped in flames. Now that seems more hellish for them. I mean, I'm across the room drinking a vodka tonic, wearing skinny jeans, watching sports on tv.
3. Your blind date turns out to be your gynecologist. So, you smile, say, isn't this funny, and have a few more vodka tonics, and then say goodnight. Uncomfortable, yes, but number 3 on the Top 10 Signs That You Are In Hell?
2. Everywhere you go, people want to show you photos of their grandchildren. Um, so you say, "Wow, she's really cute and looks smart" and keep walking.
1. You order a venti decaf macciato with no foam and you get a grande regular macchiato with foam. This is the most hellish thing that can happen to someone? Does this mean that there is only Starbucks and no Dunkin Donuts? Because that would be a bummer.
Um, that's just a horrific collection. What about being tortured, or, roasting for eternity, or being surrounded by Yankees fans, or having people chant 18-1 for all eternity, or...spending eternity sober? Now that would be hellish.
What bothers me most about this card, as that fellow people of the same gender as myself are supposed to find that funny.
On the outside to the card, it says, "Top Ten Signs That You Are In Hell"
10. Convenient sign that reads, "You are now in hell". Now, I am just a humble school teacher, not a marketing guru, but I think that #10 means, "We could only think of 9 funny things".
9. Nothing but sports, fishing, and the Three Stooges on every TV channel. Now, I'm not a huge 3 Stooges fan, but I can handle an episode every now and then. Not crazy about watching fishing on TV, but I like seeing where they go to fish, like, the Keys. Who doesn't love the Keys? And as for the 24 hour sports? Does that mean we get Dish? NFL Network? NESN? Again, not seeing the point.
8. All the shoe stores are closed. Is the packy open?
7. One stall in the ladies room, and no toilet paper. While this is a bit of a conundrum; most of my favorite places in the world have one stall and no toilet paper. Mainly, Lietrims and Countryfest.
6. Skinny jeans are back in style. Not my favorite look, but not exactly what I would imagine "hell" to be.
5. You're the only one of your girlfriends NOT to get carded at the bar. But there's a bar? And I'm at it with my girlfriends? That's pretty hellish.
4. Men all look hot - but only because they're enveloped in flames. Now that seems more hellish for them. I mean, I'm across the room drinking a vodka tonic, wearing skinny jeans, watching sports on tv.
3. Your blind date turns out to be your gynecologist. So, you smile, say, isn't this funny, and have a few more vodka tonics, and then say goodnight. Uncomfortable, yes, but number 3 on the Top 10 Signs That You Are In Hell?
2. Everywhere you go, people want to show you photos of their grandchildren. Um, so you say, "Wow, she's really cute and looks smart" and keep walking.
1. You order a venti decaf macciato with no foam and you get a grande regular macchiato with foam. This is the most hellish thing that can happen to someone? Does this mean that there is only Starbucks and no Dunkin Donuts? Because that would be a bummer.
Um, that's just a horrific collection. What about being tortured, or, roasting for eternity, or being surrounded by Yankees fans, or having people chant 18-1 for all eternity, or...spending eternity sober? Now that would be hellish.
What bothers me most about this card, as that fellow people of the same gender as myself are supposed to find that funny.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Saturday, February 23, 2008
The Ramblings...
I realized the other day, quite how much I am not over the Patriots lost. I'm still absolutely angry. As one of my students proved the other day with his, Giant's Super Bowl hat, complete with it's, "We Wanted It More" logo, I am angry, I am hurt, and I wanted my Super Bowl ring and even the warm wonderful glow of spring training is not quite warming the ice over my sports heart.
*I live in coastal Eastern North Carolina, and I've been waiting to see this whole Duke / UNC feud up close. A few weeks ago, I saw that match up at a neighborhood sports bar, and quite frankly, I'm tired of hearing about how other rivalries rival the Boston / New York rivalry. I'm sorry, but I haven't seen anything yet to see show me otherwise.
*Does Tiger Woods actually drive a Buick? I don't think so. At least, I hope not. I've seen the picture of his house, and I don't see a Buick parked in that driveway.
*The NBA All Star game uni's did nothing but confuse me. What was the point of those?
*Kelvin Sampson looks like a dick. His demeanor on the sideline, the way he's always yelling and jumping around. He looks slimy. Athletic directors and GM's should take that into account more often? Does the person look like a good person? No? Well I'd rethink that.
*The NCAA constantly reminds me of an Enron like corporation for a lot of reasons, but mainly because you have these coaches who sign massive multi-year deals, recruit, make promises of four year starting and such, and then jump ship at the first instance of a little water in the hull. Players who signed on to a particular coach should be able to transfer with no wait. Why should they have to put their college career on hold because of some coach? That being said, they should not be picking their college on coach alone. They should be picking their college on more important merits, like the ability to get into most bars with white out on your ID freshman year. The ability to order food at 4 am. Oh, and majors and crap.
*I'm not ready for Fantasy Baseball in any way, shape, or form, when you are still mourning the NFL season and you live without NESN, it's hard to get in the proper mode for football.
*This Bill Simmon's wiki entry is hilarious. I have read the SG since I was a sophomore in HS (just turned the big 25) and I have long enjoyed his work, but the things he feels the need to tell us (like hanging out with Tom after the Super Bowl) show that he is not a fan's perspective, but rather that of a fairly famous writer for the world wide leader. I'm not saying I'm not excited to read what he has to say, but I am saying that I find myself identifying with him less and less.
*So Manny hired Satan and isn't interested in talking about a contract extension and the Boston media has their panties all up in a bunch. I am coming to realize more and more that the "good" guys in baseball are those who are always ready with a good quote, like Mike Lowell (not saying Mike isn't great, just saying that he speaks English and Spanish fluently and is always willing to talk), whereas someone like Manny who isn't quite a language master, (as far as we know) isn't quite as able and willing to talk is aloof and crazy and a bit of a jerk. The only Red Sox player I am willing to say is a nice as you would hope is David Ortiz, as he once pinched my cheek, called me sweetie, and gave me a $1,000.00^. True story. One player I know to be a jerk, I know first hand, John Valentine. Had the personality of a stale piece of moldy toast at the freaking Square One Mall where my brother made me stand in line for like, 3 hours to get his autograph and refused to make eye contact. (At the same event, Darren Lewis quite freakly winked at me, in like, a creepy way, when I was like, 14? 15 tops?)
*It's really sad that the Celtics are relevant, albeit, struggling of late, and I hardly ever get them on TV. I can however watch Duke, State, or UNC every freaking night of the week. Did I ever tell you about the time my dad and I won a raffle to play basketball on the old parquet floor at Boston Garden? I was, eh, I'll go with 12 or 13. My brother was a baby and my mom worked in the bakery at Shaw's at night. And she entered a raffle, and won. (I guess I'm good at raffles) . Anyway, because I was going to be nervous, my Dad told me he was taking me to a bun factory in Boston. When I was younger, I had this terrible problem that whenever I was really excited about something, I kind of threw up.^^ Boston was a big deal, save for Disney on Ice, I didn't go in too often. So I had on a white blouse, black pants, dressy shoes for my big trip. And let me just say, I was psyched for the bread tour. I thought it was going to be like Piantadosi and who doesn't love carbs? This blog is aptly titled...rambling. Part of our tour was that we could eat in whatever the Garden 600 Club was and of course. It was open bar. For those of you who don't know my dad, or my family in general, including myself...My Family + Open Bar = bad times. A few crown royal and gingers later, we went downstairs, shot hoops with ML Carr (well, I shot maybe one, then sat on all the seats on the bench so I knew I had sat in Larry Bird's) and then my dad and I snuck away from the group, and went into all the locker rooms...B's, Celts, visitors room. The home locker rooms were pretty nice, and I actually got to sit in Larry Bird's locker, and my dad took a picture that didn't come out. We were found out by a maintenance man that wasn't too amused by us. I told him we got lost looking for the bathroom and ended up in Larry Bird's locker.
On the way home, I dropped ML Carr's autograph out the window. Then I asked my dad if we could go to the bun factory.
*I need the Red Sox in my life, real live Red Sox. So I'm thinking about talking to the principal on Monday and seeing if I can take a Friday or a Monday coming up and driving to Fort Myers and just saying, "Hi Mike Lowell" and turning around and driving home. Is it worth driving 855 miles to say hello to Mike Lowell? Well, let's face it, rarely if ever should I be your base for sanity!
^Okay, it was a gift certificate I won in a raffle at a charity event, but he gave it to me okay?!?!
^^And not about big things, like, one time, my Auntie told me that she was taking me to Toys "R" Us because I got a good report card (I was maybe in 2nd grade), and that I could get whatever I wanted. (It was a simple thing, I was totally getting a Barbie, it wasn't like I was going out with a new bike or something). Anyway, we get about 3 steps into Toys "R" Us and I threw up all over the floor.
*I live in coastal Eastern North Carolina, and I've been waiting to see this whole Duke / UNC feud up close. A few weeks ago, I saw that match up at a neighborhood sports bar, and quite frankly, I'm tired of hearing about how other rivalries rival the Boston / New York rivalry. I'm sorry, but I haven't seen anything yet to see show me otherwise.
*Does Tiger Woods actually drive a Buick? I don't think so. At least, I hope not. I've seen the picture of his house, and I don't see a Buick parked in that driveway.
*The NBA All Star game uni's did nothing but confuse me. What was the point of those?
*Kelvin Sampson looks like a dick. His demeanor on the sideline, the way he's always yelling and jumping around. He looks slimy. Athletic directors and GM's should take that into account more often? Does the person look like a good person? No? Well I'd rethink that.
*The NCAA constantly reminds me of an Enron like corporation for a lot of reasons, but mainly because you have these coaches who sign massive multi-year deals, recruit, make promises of four year starting and such, and then jump ship at the first instance of a little water in the hull. Players who signed on to a particular coach should be able to transfer with no wait. Why should they have to put their college career on hold because of some coach? That being said, they should not be picking their college on coach alone. They should be picking their college on more important merits, like the ability to get into most bars with white out on your ID freshman year. The ability to order food at 4 am. Oh, and majors and crap.
*I'm not ready for Fantasy Baseball in any way, shape, or form, when you are still mourning the NFL season and you live without NESN, it's hard to get in the proper mode for football.
*This Bill Simmon's wiki entry is hilarious. I have read the SG since I was a sophomore in HS (just turned the big 25) and I have long enjoyed his work, but the things he feels the need to tell us (like hanging out with Tom after the Super Bowl) show that he is not a fan's perspective, but rather that of a fairly famous writer for the world wide leader. I'm not saying I'm not excited to read what he has to say, but I am saying that I find myself identifying with him less and less.
*So Manny hired Satan and isn't interested in talking about a contract extension and the Boston media has their panties all up in a bunch. I am coming to realize more and more that the "good" guys in baseball are those who are always ready with a good quote, like Mike Lowell (not saying Mike isn't great, just saying that he speaks English and Spanish fluently and is always willing to talk), whereas someone like Manny who isn't quite a language master, (as far as we know) isn't quite as able and willing to talk is aloof and crazy and a bit of a jerk. The only Red Sox player I am willing to say is a nice as you would hope is David Ortiz, as he once pinched my cheek, called me sweetie, and gave me a $1,000.00^. True story. One player I know to be a jerk, I know first hand, John Valentine. Had the personality of a stale piece of moldy toast at the freaking Square One Mall where my brother made me stand in line for like, 3 hours to get his autograph and refused to make eye contact. (At the same event, Darren Lewis quite freakly winked at me, in like, a creepy way, when I was like, 14? 15 tops?)
*It's really sad that the Celtics are relevant, albeit, struggling of late, and I hardly ever get them on TV. I can however watch Duke, State, or UNC every freaking night of the week. Did I ever tell you about the time my dad and I won a raffle to play basketball on the old parquet floor at Boston Garden? I was, eh, I'll go with 12 or 13. My brother was a baby and my mom worked in the bakery at Shaw's at night. And she entered a raffle, and won. (I guess I'm good at raffles) . Anyway, because I was going to be nervous, my Dad told me he was taking me to a bun factory in Boston. When I was younger, I had this terrible problem that whenever I was really excited about something, I kind of threw up.^^ Boston was a big deal, save for Disney on Ice, I didn't go in too often. So I had on a white blouse, black pants, dressy shoes for my big trip. And let me just say, I was psyched for the bread tour. I thought it was going to be like Piantadosi and who doesn't love carbs? This blog is aptly titled...rambling. Part of our tour was that we could eat in whatever the Garden 600 Club was and of course. It was open bar. For those of you who don't know my dad, or my family in general, including myself...My Family + Open Bar = bad times. A few crown royal and gingers later, we went downstairs, shot hoops with ML Carr (well, I shot maybe one, then sat on all the seats on the bench so I knew I had sat in Larry Bird's) and then my dad and I snuck away from the group, and went into all the locker rooms...B's, Celts, visitors room. The home locker rooms were pretty nice, and I actually got to sit in Larry Bird's locker, and my dad took a picture that didn't come out. We were found out by a maintenance man that wasn't too amused by us. I told him we got lost looking for the bathroom and ended up in Larry Bird's locker.
On the way home, I dropped ML Carr's autograph out the window. Then I asked my dad if we could go to the bun factory.
*I need the Red Sox in my life, real live Red Sox. So I'm thinking about talking to the principal on Monday and seeing if I can take a Friday or a Monday coming up and driving to Fort Myers and just saying, "Hi Mike Lowell" and turning around and driving home. Is it worth driving 855 miles to say hello to Mike Lowell? Well, let's face it, rarely if ever should I be your base for sanity!
^Okay, it was a gift certificate I won in a raffle at a charity event, but he gave it to me okay?!?!
^^And not about big things, like, one time, my Auntie told me that she was taking me to Toys "R" Us because I got a good report card (I was maybe in 2nd grade), and that I could get whatever I wanted. (It was a simple thing, I was totally getting a Barbie, it wasn't like I was going out with a new bike or something). Anyway, we get about 3 steps into Toys "R" Us and I threw up all over the floor.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Great Autograph Experiement Update
Jason Giambi mailed back my card, complete with signature, I guess he didn't have anything better to do.
So to keep our tally up, I recieved signed cards back from Mike Timlin, Jason Giambi, Barry Bonds, and A-Rod.
Filed under, things I don't know about myself...
When I moved to NC in August, my mom sent me off with a ton of different piles of junk that I didn't need. Now, we are getting a third roommate, (my cousin, yay!), so I've been trying to cram two rooms full of crap into one.
Anyway, one thing I came across was a box of my baseball card. Back when I was a freshman or a sophomore, and my brother was in first or second grade, we got into baseball cards. Mainly because there was a cool hobby shop like store at my house, partly because I had just started to really like baseball, and lastly because I'm a huge dork. It's a wonder to myself that I had any friends at all in highschool. Okay, friend. I had a friend in high school. Moving on...
I had forgotten a few things about myself.
I loved Mike Mussina. I really, really, really loved Mike Mussina.
Now, please forgive me for a moment and remember that during this time, he was quite the pitcher:
1996 27 BAL AL 19 11 36 36 4 1 0 0 243.3
1997 28 BAL AL 15 8 33 33 4 1 0 0 224.7
1998 29 BAL AL 13 10 29 29 4 2 0 0 206.3
1999 30 BAL AL 18 7 31 31 4 0 0 0 203.3
While those stats are impressive, the real reason I loved him was probably the fact that he took a line drive off his forehead. I love a good sports injury. Anyway, I have more Mike Mussina cards in my collection than any other player, includin an autograph. I think you should know that about me.
Anyway, one thing I came across was a box of my baseball card. Back when I was a freshman or a sophomore, and my brother was in first or second grade, we got into baseball cards. Mainly because there was a cool hobby shop like store at my house, partly because I had just started to really like baseball, and lastly because I'm a huge dork. It's a wonder to myself that I had any friends at all in highschool. Okay, friend. I had a friend in high school. Moving on...
I had forgotten a few things about myself.
I loved Mike Mussina. I really, really, really loved Mike Mussina.
Now, please forgive me for a moment and remember that during this time, he was quite the pitcher:
1996 27 BAL AL 19 11 36 36 4 1 0 0 243.3
1997 28 BAL AL 15 8 33 33 4 1 0 0 224.7
1998 29 BAL AL 13 10 29 29 4 2 0 0 206.3
1999 30 BAL AL 18 7 31 31 4 0 0 0 203.3
While those stats are impressive, the real reason I loved him was probably the fact that he took a line drive off his forehead. I love a good sports injury. Anyway, I have more Mike Mussina cards in my collection than any other player, includin an autograph. I think you should know that about me.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
From the mouths of babes...
I decided in a moment of weakness last night that I hated the wallpaper in my bathroom and it needed to go. Forgetting the facts that:
1. I rent.
2. I'm not big on hard work.
3. I don't know how to take off wallpaper.
4. I don't have any money at all to pay for paint and whatnot.
5. I hate painting.
Anyway, right now, I have half wallpaper covered bathroom, no shower curtain, and shards of wallpaper anyway, which is why I don't have a real live blog for you. But I leave you with this.
We play a game in my class sometimes called, "Red Sox Trivia" where, to kill a few extra minutes at the end of class, I make up questions and use questions from my Red Sox daily calender. Today, we were playing, and after we were done and recess began, my four sixth grade boys congregated around my desk to ask me questions. I shared with them the games I went to, and the player's I've either met or gone to the same event as. Showed them the pictures of me and Peter Gammons (they didn't know who he was!), the picture of me and Vince Wilfork, me and Craig Hansen, and me and LaKevin Washington (a back up back up to the back up d-lineman I believe). They were obviously impressed (like I don't impress them enough already). Anyway, they were asking me numbers of players, and finally, one, looks at me and goes, Miss, I know you don't know who number 86?" I'm thinking Ben is 84 and K. Brady is 88 and I don't there is anyone in the middle. Finally he goes, "Come on, he loves ketchup!". Yup, #86 is Hines Ward for the Steelers. Got to love kids.
1. I rent.
2. I'm not big on hard work.
3. I don't know how to take off wallpaper.
4. I don't have any money at all to pay for paint and whatnot.
5. I hate painting.
Anyway, right now, I have half wallpaper covered bathroom, no shower curtain, and shards of wallpaper anyway, which is why I don't have a real live blog for you. But I leave you with this.
We play a game in my class sometimes called, "Red Sox Trivia" where, to kill a few extra minutes at the end of class, I make up questions and use questions from my Red Sox daily calender. Today, we were playing, and after we were done and recess began, my four sixth grade boys congregated around my desk to ask me questions. I shared with them the games I went to, and the player's I've either met or gone to the same event as. Showed them the pictures of me and Peter Gammons (they didn't know who he was!), the picture of me and Vince Wilfork, me and Craig Hansen, and me and LaKevin Washington (a back up back up to the back up d-lineman I believe). They were obviously impressed (like I don't impress them enough already). Anyway, they were asking me numbers of players, and finally, one, looks at me and goes, Miss, I know you don't know who number 86?" I'm thinking Ben is 84 and K. Brady is 88 and I don't there is anyone in the middle. Finally he goes, "Come on, he loves ketchup!". Yup, #86 is Hines Ward for the Steelers. Got to love kids.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Has anyone seen my prozac? I usually keep it next to the vodka?
I'm back. I don't how long for, and how regularly I'll be able to post here, but as Katie said, I have a request -- could you please start blogging again? We have won a world series and lost a superbowl. and you have nothing to say?? seriously?!"
It's true. The 2007 Red Sox series was fantastic. It was a dream come true. It showed 2004 wasn't a fluke. It gave us more swagger. It started off with me coming very, very, very close to dying in Texas, not to mention warding off hypothermia and I came very, very, very close to commiting homicide in Michigan. I went to more than 20 Red Sox games and I will still probably be paying off my credit card for those games and the nights out after in 2012. It was full of the savvy veterans and lovable rookies. It was the walk-off from Manny while at the Baseball Tavern surrounded by a bunch of crazy drunkards and my 3 favorite drunks. It was sitting on the couch hungover in sweatpants and watching the Pat's dominance continue and the Red Sox beat the Angels again. It was somehow forgetting '04 and counting them out again having Papi remind me that he is a "bad" man. It was finding out after Pedroia hit like a rock star with the same broken bone that I made excuses for Wily Mo with. It was having them go to Game On after the game. It was Papelbon's dancing and Lester getting the win in Game 4. It was different too. I was 600 miles away. There was no parade and I had a to wait a week for the Championship Globe to be delievered. Still, it was fantastic and most certainly never gets old.
The reason I am starting with my final thoughts on 2007 as we look to 2008 is well, because I need to remember a time of happiness in my life. I am currently in the stage 2 of the Kubler-Ross model of grief.
1. Denial: The initial stage: "It can't be happening."
2. Anger: "Why me? It's not fair."
3. Bargaining: "Just let me live to see my children graduate."
4. Depression: "I'm so sad, why bother with anything?"
5. Acceptance: "It's going to be OK."
I am going to attempt to seperate my thoughts with colors, since I didn't do so with the English language.
I am angry. I'm angry at the playcalling, I'm angry at Tom, I'm angry at Eli, I'm angry that for the 3rd straight season, there is no Lombardi trophy coming back to Foxboro, I'm angry that David GD Tyree somehow kept that GD ball against his head and that Rodney who lives for that play and apparently HGH couldn't rip it away, I'm angry that Bill wore a GD red hoodie on the biggest game of the season even though we are Boston fans and we believe in things like fate, and karma, and grey hoodies. I'm angry we cheated, because we did, because Bill didn't misinterpret the rule. I'm angry at Josh McDaniels. Most days this season you could find me offering up my uterus to Mr. McDaniels. I'm angry that I had the fleeting thought of, "Screw it, I'm wearing jeans, sneakers, my Seymour jersey, and my Super Bowl hat to school tomorrow and I could care less about dress code,". I'm angry that I saw Peyton lose and never thought Eli would have it in him. I'm mad that I maybe am starting to like Peyton a little because he is kind of funny in a dorky nice guy way and and his mom was super cute on Good Morning America! or some bullshit. And I loved hating Peyton. And I'm angry that I don't get to love hating Peyton. I'm angry people are talking about pitchers and catchers. Like baseball is going to get me out of this. I'm angry that North Carolina doesn't have a professional baseball team. I'm angry that Bill was jovial last week. I'm angry that I think that Bill had a spot cleared off for his fourth Super Bowl trophy. I'm angry that he went to the locker room with a second left on the clock. I'm angry that I no longer feel invincible with Bill and Tom. I'm angry / afraid that someday I'll watch Tom in Canton accepting his jacket or whatever stupid crap they do there and under his name it will say, 3 time Super Bowl Champion, 2 Super Bowl MVP, one NFL MVP. And I'll be thinking back to the fact that it absolutely should have been four, and could have been five. I'm angry that 18-1 looks like shit. I'm angry that Tom is smart enough to not get his soon to be ex-girlfriend knocked up...dumbass. I'm angry that assholes bought shirts that said, "Perfection" after the regular season. Like that is perfect. I'm angry that Dice-K wears 18 because, seriously? That number has some scarring on my heart, k? I'm angry that my little punk 7th graders keep asking me if I'm still Patriot's fan. I'm angry that one of my kids, a Patriot's fan, asked me if I cried when they lost, and I said, "No", and he said, "Me either. Thought about it though". I'm angry that Kraft, LLC or whatever bullshit put in a licenese for 19-0: Champions, and whatever else other crap. Because heaven forbid they wouldn't have made enough money on the win. I'm angry that Eli went to Disney World. I'm angry that Michael Strahan never bothered to get braces. I'm angry I haven't been able to stop by KissMeSuzy because there is not a good natured bone in my body right now. I'm angry that I have seen that stupid freaking commercial with Eli 2892q30932 times. I'm angry that SG has kind of gone corporate-ish and was going to hang out with Tom after the game. He should know it's way more fun to sit across the martini bar and gaze akwardly. I'm angry that Junior Seau didn't get his ring, I'm angry that Tedi and Mike didn't get another. I'm angry Richard didn't show up. I'm angry I put ever single thing I own that says Patriots anywhere on it in a rubbermaid container in my shed. I'm angry that Randy Moss decided to stay home for this one. I'm angry that this was the event that finally forced me to retire my, "I hate Peyton Manning & Eli Sucks Too" shirt because it has brought me absolutely no good karma in any way shape or form. I should have known. Grey is so no my color. I'm angry that I forgot how much I loved "Free Fallin'" and that it was me, Katie and Erin's song on the way out at school, and that because I forgot how much I loved it I downloaded it and then realized what a freaking idiot I am and that I probably jinxed the whole thing. I'm angry that the Giant's wanted it more. I'm angry that we looked bored the last two games. I'm angry that it wasn't Brett Farve (although I'm sure poor Aaron Rodgers is not) and the good people of Green Bay, I am angry that last night, I just started thinking about the times we should have put it away and couldn't fall asleep till 1 and woke up at 5:30 still pissed and was at my desk at work at 6:15. I'm angry all that "In Bill We Trust" crap is done with because right now, I don't trust Bill to order me Chinese. I'm afraid he'll order me something bland and boring like brown rice and broccili instead of spicing things up with a little General Gau's. I'm angry I'm so sleep deprived that seems like a clever metaphor. And like touchingallthebases.blogspot.com said today, 18-1 is the new 1918. Now there is something I could do without. I'm angry.
I guess my next stage is bargining. I think I'll move quickly through that stage. Mainly because, we fucked it up so bad, what is there to bargin for? We didn't deserve it at all. It wasn't our game to win, it was our game to lose, and we did so, efficiently. Then I'll swing through depression. I got that going for me. Then finally acceptence. Seeing as how I still have 2003 ALCS nightmares and wake up with cold sweats from the AFC Championship in 2006, I have a sinking feeling this could take a while.
10 Reasons Why I have watched Richard Zednek get slashed in the carotid freaking artery at least 20 times:
1. I love crazy injuries. 2. I love blood. 3. He's okay. 4. I kept trying to think what me and Tim the trainer would have done if that would have happened to one of our hockey players or somehow a football player. I probably would have just passed out. 5. The amount of pints of blood that he lost! FIVE PINTS! holy shit. 6. I am not much of a hockey gal, but I love how it said the assistant GM and the assistant trainer stayed at the hospital with him 7. Buffalo has saved two professional athletes from possible death in the past 6 months. If I'm ever going to try skydiving, I'm doing it in Buffalo. 8. You know you are in some deep shit when the opposing team's doctor comes running up the ramp after you. 9. He skated off the ice? Seriously? Hockey players are so badass. 10. Not really related, but I was talking to my kids and I told them about being a fake athletic trainer and one of my 7th grade boys cut his hand (like, paper cut cut) and came into my room to have me put on the band aid because I "knew how do that type of thing". So don't most homosapians and a good amount of monkeys. You don't have to have a thumb to put on a bandaid.
PPS. How about Pierce beating the Spurs. Bet it was awesome. Of course I didn't see it because I get a Celtics game down here about once every 3 months...that makes me...
ANGRY.
Hope those 1700 words were everything you were hoping for KP.
It's true. The 2007 Red Sox series was fantastic. It was a dream come true. It showed 2004 wasn't a fluke. It gave us more swagger. It started off with me coming very, very, very close to dying in Texas, not to mention warding off hypothermia and I came very, very, very close to commiting homicide in Michigan. I went to more than 20 Red Sox games and I will still probably be paying off my credit card for those games and the nights out after in 2012. It was full of the savvy veterans and lovable rookies. It was the walk-off from Manny while at the Baseball Tavern surrounded by a bunch of crazy drunkards and my 3 favorite drunks. It was sitting on the couch hungover in sweatpants and watching the Pat's dominance continue and the Red Sox beat the Angels again. It was somehow forgetting '04 and counting them out again having Papi remind me that he is a "bad" man. It was finding out after Pedroia hit like a rock star with the same broken bone that I made excuses for Wily Mo with. It was having them go to Game On after the game. It was Papelbon's dancing and Lester getting the win in Game 4. It was different too. I was 600 miles away. There was no parade and I had a to wait a week for the Championship Globe to be delievered. Still, it was fantastic and most certainly never gets old.
The reason I am starting with my final thoughts on 2007 as we look to 2008 is well, because I need to remember a time of happiness in my life. I am currently in the stage 2 of the Kubler-Ross model of grief.
1. Denial: The initial stage: "It can't be happening."
2. Anger: "Why me? It's not fair."
3. Bargaining: "Just let me live to see my children graduate."
4. Depression: "I'm so sad, why bother with anything?"
5. Acceptance: "It's going to be OK."
I am going to attempt to seperate my thoughts with colors, since I didn't do so with the English language.
I am angry. I'm angry at the playcalling, I'm angry at Tom, I'm angry at Eli, I'm angry that for the 3rd straight season, there is no Lombardi trophy coming back to Foxboro, I'm angry that David GD Tyree somehow kept that GD ball against his head and that Rodney who lives for that play and apparently HGH couldn't rip it away, I'm angry that Bill wore a GD red hoodie on the biggest game of the season even though we are Boston fans and we believe in things like fate, and karma, and grey hoodies. I'm angry we cheated, because we did, because Bill didn't misinterpret the rule. I'm angry at Josh McDaniels. Most days this season you could find me offering up my uterus to Mr. McDaniels. I'm angry that I had the fleeting thought of, "Screw it, I'm wearing jeans, sneakers, my Seymour jersey, and my Super Bowl hat to school tomorrow and I could care less about dress code,". I'm angry that I saw Peyton lose and never thought Eli would have it in him. I'm mad that I maybe am starting to like Peyton a little because he is kind of funny in a dorky nice guy way and and his mom was super cute on Good Morning America! or some bullshit. And I loved hating Peyton. And I'm angry that I don't get to love hating Peyton. I'm angry people are talking about pitchers and catchers. Like baseball is going to get me out of this. I'm angry that North Carolina doesn't have a professional baseball team. I'm angry that Bill was jovial last week. I'm angry that I think that Bill had a spot cleared off for his fourth Super Bowl trophy. I'm angry that he went to the locker room with a second left on the clock. I'm angry that I no longer feel invincible with Bill and Tom. I'm angry / afraid that someday I'll watch Tom in Canton accepting his jacket or whatever stupid crap they do there and under his name it will say, 3 time Super Bowl Champion, 2 Super Bowl MVP, one NFL MVP. And I'll be thinking back to the fact that it absolutely should have been four, and could have been five. I'm angry that 18-1 looks like shit. I'm angry that Tom is smart enough to not get his soon to be ex-girlfriend knocked up...dumbass. I'm angry that assholes bought shirts that said, "Perfection" after the regular season. Like that is perfect. I'm angry that Dice-K wears 18 because, seriously? That number has some scarring on my heart, k? I'm angry that my little punk 7th graders keep asking me if I'm still Patriot's fan. I'm angry that one of my kids, a Patriot's fan, asked me if I cried when they lost, and I said, "No", and he said, "Me either. Thought about it though". I'm angry that Kraft, LLC or whatever bullshit put in a licenese for 19-0: Champions, and whatever else other crap. Because heaven forbid they wouldn't have made enough money on the win. I'm angry that Eli went to Disney World. I'm angry that Michael Strahan never bothered to get braces. I'm angry I haven't been able to stop by KissMeSuzy because there is not a good natured bone in my body right now. I'm angry that I have seen that stupid freaking commercial with Eli 2892q30932 times. I'm angry that SG has kind of gone corporate-ish and was going to hang out with Tom after the game. He should know it's way more fun to sit across the martini bar and gaze akwardly. I'm angry that Junior Seau didn't get his ring, I'm angry that Tedi and Mike didn't get another. I'm angry Richard didn't show up. I'm angry I put ever single thing I own that says Patriots anywhere on it in a rubbermaid container in my shed. I'm angry that Randy Moss decided to stay home for this one. I'm angry that this was the event that finally forced me to retire my, "I hate Peyton Manning & Eli Sucks Too" shirt because it has brought me absolutely no good karma in any way shape or form. I should have known. Grey is so no my color. I'm angry that I forgot how much I loved "Free Fallin'" and that it was me, Katie and Erin's song on the way out at school, and that because I forgot how much I loved it I downloaded it and then realized what a freaking idiot I am and that I probably jinxed the whole thing. I'm angry that the Giant's wanted it more. I'm angry that we looked bored the last two games. I'm angry that it wasn't Brett Farve (although I'm sure poor Aaron Rodgers is not) and the good people of Green Bay, I am angry that last night, I just started thinking about the times we should have put it away and couldn't fall asleep till 1 and woke up at 5:30 still pissed and was at my desk at work at 6:15. I'm angry all that "In Bill We Trust" crap is done with because right now, I don't trust Bill to order me Chinese. I'm afraid he'll order me something bland and boring like brown rice and broccili instead of spicing things up with a little General Gau's. I'm angry I'm so sleep deprived that seems like a clever metaphor. And like touchingallthebases.blogspot.com said today, 18-1 is the new 1918. Now there is something I could do without. I'm angry.
I guess my next stage is bargining. I think I'll move quickly through that stage. Mainly because, we fucked it up so bad, what is there to bargin for? We didn't deserve it at all. It wasn't our game to win, it was our game to lose, and we did so, efficiently. Then I'll swing through depression. I got that going for me. Then finally acceptence. Seeing as how I still have 2003 ALCS nightmares and wake up with cold sweats from the AFC Championship in 2006, I have a sinking feeling this could take a while.
10 Reasons Why I have watched Richard Zednek get slashed in the carotid freaking artery at least 20 times:
1. I love crazy injuries. 2. I love blood. 3. He's okay. 4. I kept trying to think what me and Tim the trainer would have done if that would have happened to one of our hockey players or somehow a football player. I probably would have just passed out. 5. The amount of pints of blood that he lost! FIVE PINTS! holy shit. 6. I am not much of a hockey gal, but I love how it said the assistant GM and the assistant trainer stayed at the hospital with him 7. Buffalo has saved two professional athletes from possible death in the past 6 months. If I'm ever going to try skydiving, I'm doing it in Buffalo. 8. You know you are in some deep shit when the opposing team's doctor comes running up the ramp after you. 9. He skated off the ice? Seriously? Hockey players are so badass. 10. Not really related, but I was talking to my kids and I told them about being a fake athletic trainer and one of my 7th grade boys cut his hand (like, paper cut cut) and came into my room to have me put on the band aid because I "knew how do that type of thing". So don't most homosapians and a good amount of monkeys. You don't have to have a thumb to put on a bandaid.
PPS. How about Pierce beating the Spurs. Bet it was awesome. Of course I didn't see it because I get a Celtics game down here about once every 3 months...that makes me...
ANGRY.
Hope those 1700 words were everything you were hoping for KP.
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