Take Me Out to the Ball Game...Listen to Me Complain

Well it is no wonder that B doesn't take me to the ball game* too often. First, as you know, I don't really follow sports. Second, I like to discuss what is going on around us, not necessarily what is happening in the game. Third, when I do decide to discuss what is going on in the game, I quickly become an "expert" much to the amusement and/or frustration of B. Here is a prime example:

[Scene: Baseball game around the 5th inning]

Me: Oh GREAT, Smith is up to bat? We are SCREWED.

B: Like you even know what you are talking about!

Me: Oh, I don't know? I DON'T KNOW?

Me: You know he is just going to hit it up and to the left like he does EVERY.SINGLE.TIME and then he will foul out, or whatever it is called, and then all of these men on all of the bases out there? WASTED.

Me: Yes, Smith, you will be WASTING ALL OF THOSE HITS!

Me: I mean, really. Look at his stats - they are AWFUL.

B: You don't know what you are talking about.

Me: Really? Why are his RBIs so low? Huh?

B: They are low.

Me: What are RBIs anyway?

B: {sigh}

*****

[Scene: Later in the same inning]

Me: Now THAT guy has GREAT stats.

B: HE IS ON THE OTHER TEAM.

Me: Huh.

Me: We are SCREWED.

You know what is fun though? When the guy in your row decides to walk down in front of you for the second time and then stop RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE and say "maybe I should have gone the other way" while doing some weird back and forth maneuver RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE that prompts your spouse to say "nice of him to wave his junk in your face" and you to say "thank God he is wearing pants" and thinking what you really wanted to say to the guy was "HEY, I think you left your penis on my face."

Finally, no baseball game is complete unless it is at or below 50 degrees. Seriously, the last three games we went to in different months? FREEZING. Here is photographic evidence:

Yes, I am wearing a sweatshirt AND a fleece AND gloves AND drinking a hot chocolate. You will also notice there is no one around me. That is because they were smart and stayed home and watched it on TV with their heat on.

I love sports.

*Or a football game. Or a basketball game. I am a bit better with hockey. A bit.

How to Rock the Family Reunion

Before the reunion, learn your Dad plans on bringing ice cream. To a picnic. In a cooler. Declare that to be overboard and very involved in planning (dry ice, wet ice, ice ice - too much to think about).

1:35: Arrive late. Pretend that you are not late. Shout out "we've arrived" so that people think that you think that you are not late.

1:36: Wonder where the heck all of the people are? Pretend you don't notice half the family is missing.

1:38: Tell them you brought ice cream. Find out that everyone thinks that is a brilliant idea.

1:40: Accept many accolades. Thank them graciously.

1:45: Finally admit it was your Dad's idea. To your Mom who already knew.

1:46: Remember there is no ice cream scoop.

1:47: Tell everyone that the ice cream was your Dad's idea and they will have to eat it with their fingers.

1:48: Text husband. Ask him to bring ice cream scoop.

1:49: Wonder where husband is.

1:50: Wonder where the #@#^@&^ the family is.

1:51: Get distracted by a brownie.

1:52: Assure Mom she is not a jinx since half the family didn't come the one time she decided to make an appearance. Totally coincidental. Totally.

1:54: Hug, kiss, catch up.

3:00: Time to eat.

3:01: Wonder where husband is.

3:02: Declare hubby cannot eat when he shows up since he is nowhere to be found.

3:10: See husband pull in. Glare in his direction.

3:12: See him come in waving an ice cream scoop.

3:13: Whoop loudly and declare him a hero while clapping.

3:14: Family joins in clapping. They don't know why. Hell, they may not even know who husband is or why he is there.

3:15: Eat. And have a brownie.

3:30: Hug, kiss, catch up.

4:00: Watch husband get his ass handed to him by a 4 year old in cow's balls.*

4:10: Listen to the 4 year old brag about it.

4:12: Listen to husband declare they weren't keeping score.

4:30: Watch your father and other adults beat up kids during volleyball.

Well okay, there it looked like my brother was getting beat up.

Nice action shot there. Great poise for a serve A.

My brother sure doesn't look like he is doing much, does he?

Again, with the waiting around. As you can see, that was action packed.

4:31: Take pictures to be used as evidence later. (See above).

4:33: Video it with your camera. (Do not look for a video on this post. See below).

4:43: Remember you don't know how to transfer video to your computer.

4:44: Say that and other things while videotaping.

4:45: Realize husband is oddly silent. Realize he doesn't want to be heard on the video.

4:46: Get distracted by a brownie.

4:50: Watch ice cream become a hit! Note to self: Buy huge boxes of Dove ice cream bars next time, you will be a hero.

5:00: Watch husband decide to juggle bocci balls.

5:01: Caution him about breaking his finger.

5:10: Almost get brained by your husband with a bocci ball.

5:11: Watch it instead hit the metal pole making a bell like sound.

5:12: Watch everyone look at you for a speech.

5:13: Announce "thank you all for coming..."

5:15: Watch everyone realize husband is trying to juggle.

5:16: Watch husband choose smaller balls.

5:21: Listen to them ask why he has his back to them the entire time.

5:22: Assure them it is because you are taking pictures and husband is camera shy.

5:23: Start singing circus music.

5:25: Clap with the family as husband juggles.

5:20: Listen to the family clap to encourage him.

5:30: Watch people leave.

5:35: Play with a volleyball with husband which is more like playing dodge ball, soccer, and football all in one.

5:36: Wonder how many bruises you will wake up to in the morning.

5:40: Watch husband leave.

5:45: Catch up with the remaining family and plan next year's event. Discuss how to coerce, threaten and bribe the rest of the family to attend.

6:45: Arrive home exhausted from too much fresh air and brownies.

Same time next year?**

*I guess it is really called Ladder Golf, but we were playing with children so Cow's Balls sounded so much more appropriate.

**I am talking to YOU family. Yes, you the ones that did not show up. A 4 year old had to play with a...well...not quite 4 year old. How wrong is that? Well, he did win. I guess he's okay with that.

I'm Back and I LOVE the Super Bowl

Not having the internet? Enough to drive someone insane I tell you.  But it doesn't matter because now we are up and running.  We moved all of our stuff Thursday (and Friday, and Saturday, but more on that later) and with it went our cable.  Between trying to move stuff in, cleaning and getting to work, my blogging time got hacked.  So sad.  Hopefully, there will be no more outages and regular posts will resume tomorrow.  That is, if I can find my camera cord. What a mess!

Meanwhile, you may already know this, but yesterday was the Super Bowl.  In times past I thought the Super Bowl was awesome because I:

1. Had a giant party (although technically it was the week AFTER the Super Bowl - but we are girls, what did we know?)

2. Went to giant parties

3. Went to the bar to drink

4. Watched it while eating chicken with my folks and got some boobage (thanks Janet!)

5. Watched it for the awesome commercials

Now? Not so much. Honestly I did not think the commercials yesterday were even up to par.  So with the move, my lackluster feelings and my general nonchalance of sports in general, it should come as no surprise that I entered the office Super Bowl squares.  And at the time I got my two squares, I didn't even know who was playing despite the fact on one side was my friend's good college friend actually playing and, on the other side, was my other friend's most favorite team in the world.   Still, last night I went in clueless.  And this is what I witnessed:

~This office setup in the new house is currently crazy as I am practically sitting on top of my TV. I am sure to go blind now.

~Jennifer Hudson looked nervous and very sad, but did a wonderful job singing. Now I hear she lip-synched. Still a good performance.

~Football looks great in HD even if you aren't really watching it.

~I have no idea who scored what when or how

~Bruce Springsteen was a natural half time performer and why didn't they think of the king of American rock before this day? Instead we get boobage (thanks Janet!)

~The commercials sucked.

~Around the third quarter I noticed the score of 20 - 7 and thought for some reason those numbers sounded familiar.

~Then I watched Big Love (can't miss Big Love!)

~Turned Super Bowl back on as B and I were trying to wrangle a big stuffed chair into the office for me to watch TV (two hours after I had been watching it) instead of the uncomfortable desk chair

~B told me the Steelers won

I remarked how I may have won the football squares, which B "highly doubted."  I then lamented not copying the squares.

Today I woke up, ate some breakfast and decided to clean out my purse since I had been carrying almost everything I owned in it during the move.  What did I find? The squares. I see that one of my squares is 7 and 0 and think "those numbers sound familiar."

Yep, I won.  Without trying, without effort, without thought, and apparently without knowing. Kind of burned people up at the office when they found out.

I love the Super Bowl.

One Time at the Hockey Game

Recently we went to a hockey game with our friends S & R.  We scored free tickets for good seats and were happy because it is rare that we get to go to hockey games.   You know why I was happy? Shenanigans always occur at sporting events - in the crowd.  As I told you here, sports are really not my thing. My job when attending is to observe everything going on around us and report it to B.  B then reports everything that is happening in the game to me. We tend to ignore what the other is saying.

So this game's audience did not disappoint.  Within the first period, four people came and sat down in front of us.  These were the four most mismatched people I have ever seen.  There were two girls and two guys.  The girls were young and pretty, maybe 21.  The guys were neither. The first guy was probably in his 30s and the second was probably in his 60s.  Neither guy was particularly attractive.  At least the 60 year something had some game. He talked up his girl and they laughed.  The other guy sat like a lump barely speaking to his "partner." We tried to imagine how these four came across each other's paths, but could not come up with anything.  Thinking for sure that these four would be our entertainment for the night, we settled into our seats for the "show."  However, as it turns out, different hilarity was about to ensue.

In front of the four mismatched beings, were two very drunk young guys, probably around the girls' age.  When the home team scored, the two guys proceeded to high five everyone, including the young girls.  That is when they noticed the girls or what I like to call "game on!"  They start not so subtly staring at the girls, talking about the girls and wondering about the girls and the guys accompanying them.   Much to everyone's disappointment, the four mismatched ones decided to leave.  As they got up, the one girl's ever elegant tramp stamp, a pistol with a flower, was exposed.  Query - do you think at some point someone called her a real "pistol" and she decided to go with it or was she all gangsta'? Feel free to discuss.  Another query - when the two young drunk guys high-fived the girls, did the 60 year old think to himself "ahhh...young kids, they are so cute...wait, I am with one?" Did he feel threatened at all?  And more importantly, did he think he really had a chance with this girl?  These thoughts keep me awake at night.

After the girls' departure, the drunk guys continued to keep us entertained by setting their sights on new young girls that arrived with their thong underwear exposed (these boys loved the classy ones), singing, standing up and dancing seemingly suggestively but mostly sloppy, disappearing for over a period (at least one of them while the other tried to call him), and then, after I had remarked that the older couple sitting next to them were trying to sit as far away from them as possible in connected seats - the boys decided to leave at which point the drunker of the two said to the couple "see you in the future." Not sure if that was a promise or a warning but it sounded like a threat. The woman apparently felt the same way because she actually recoiled from the boy.

After their departure all was not lost for entertainment purposes. There was the drunk girl in the section to the left of us who fell down the stairs, fell up the stairs, walked at a 90 degree angle, and danced to the Happy Birthday song. Yes, as in "Happy Birthday to You." That song. And, last but not least, was the farting couple.  B and I told S&R early in the game about them. Last time we sat behind them and almost died.  We decided it was the woman because it would happen when the husband was off buying an entire pizza to eat by himself.  As we were discussing it B remarks "it smells like someone is farting right now."  And it did. Two hours later - mystery solved.  I spot the farting couple a few rows down and shout "it's the farting couple."  Luckily they didn't hear me, but we sure smelled them.  (Another fun fact - I like to shout and point during hockey games.  I don't know why. If there is a fight on the ice, I will shout and point "fight!"  Sometimes this is followed by "Git 'em.").

All in all a good time was had by all, but especially by us because we got to witness the entire circus. And it was a circus.  In fact, I heard a lady say to her friend who arrived precariously holding a pizza box with three drinks on it "that is quite the circus trick you've got going." And then she sang the circus music song.  I cried to B "she is singing the circus music song!" to which he replied "I guess you're not the only one."   But she didn't dance and march like I do when I sing it to B.  Nobody can do that.

Ramblings of a Riddler...

It has been a long week and I cannot put together one big coherent story, so that will have to wait until tomorrow.  Instead, you get my ramblings. Enjoy.

~People look at you funny if you only wash one hand in the bathroom, even if your other hand is injured and you did not use it.  These same people do not blink twice if someone walks out of the bathroom without washing their hands at all.~

~Your stream of consciousness is supposed to STAY in your consciousness. When I am waiting for the judge to call my case, I do not want to hear the following come from your mouth in between gasps for air "must put my stuff down" and "have to check in with the clerk now."  I do NOT need a play by play of your actions because I can SEE YOU (and you are not that interesting in any event).~

~The doctor has told me I am narcoleptic, among other things.  I prefer to say I love naps. Nice long naps. All day long.  However, even I, in my narcoleptic state, could not fall asleep and immediately start snoring LOUDLY within two minutes of sitting down in a courtroom.  How do you make it through your job buddy?  Oh - and you need to see a few doctors, at a minimum, to help you with your multitude of problems.  But not my doctor. He only misdiagnoses me and then forgets my ailments.  That will not do you any good.~

~My office eats WAY too many Cheezits (not I - I stick to pretzels).  We have gone through 4 cases in a week. That is 12 lbs per case or 48 POUNDS of Cheezits. In a WEEK??? We need an office fast (um, not feast) pronto! Although the person that dropped the Cheezit in the bathroom needs a different kind of help.  Cheezits in the bathroom?  Why would you take FOOD in the bathroom?~

~Speaking of bathrooms and the office, a vagina exploded in the women's office the other day. Yes, you read right. No, I have no explanation. I apologize if the word "vagina" offended you but you cannot nearly be as offended as my nostrils were.  I can only hope that the person was in our office seeking counsel to file a lawsuit against her doctor for malpractice.  If not, she should be.  And I should get pain and suffering.  Five hours worth.  That is how long it took to clear up. Five hours!  I think they actually infused the bathroom with brand new air.  Oh and to the person a couple hours later that thought the bathroom spray would work? It didn't.  It just smelled like a flowery exploded vagina. Nice try though.~

~Speaking of math and the office (see math two paragraphs ago), it is probably a good idea if you are going to send a forwarded email to the entire office about an alternate proposal for the $700 billion bailout, that you make sure the math in the email is correct.  Otherwise, someone in the office, perhaps even your own secretary, will immediately hit "reply to all" and totally destroy the whole point of the email with accurate calculations and everyone else will just pretend they did not witness the whole chain of events.  (No, I did not send out this forward. I also did not do the math but did check it and cackle after the reply to all). (P.S. even snopes did the math right)~

~I say F@ck an awful lot. Even when I am not reinjuring myself.~

~Yesterday afternoon there was a "Breaking News" email sent by the local news indicating a nearby school had been closed due to a "foul odor having been detected."  Boy, that vagina travels.~

~Does anyone know what Pickleball is?  Someone in the office won a gold medal in this event. I am not sure if it is a sport or something dirty. Either way I am scared.  I was also blissfully unaware that some coworkers were involved in local Olympics.  Lost bliss  is a terrible thing.~

~One can only wonder what Google searches will lead people to this post.~