This time one year ago, I couldn't have told you which schools had decent basketball programs. I didn't care about standings, records and did not even know what "over the back" meant.
But, now--now all is changed.
A rebound, foul or aforementioned "over the back" call has the power to either
a) thrill me to my very core
b) send me into the depths of despair.
In the last two weeks I have been at two seperate approximately 1.4 hour events in which I feel that I have lived and died a few times, gathering new grey hairs every minute. I've tried not to care, honestly I have, but I'm apparently either not that kind of person, or WAY to invested in my eblings. In this case, probably both.
I say this, because of the strange phenomenon that is occuring in my life. People don't seem to care that Orange Park High School is now in the 6A quarter finals in boys basketball.
(pause for all my devoted blog readers who are having their own little celebrations with their computer screens, cause I know both of you are and I bless you for it)
I mean, come ON. If we win this game on Saturday, we go to state! This is monumental, earth shattering news! I expect people to whip out the pom poms and do a hurkey when I tell them this. Instead they say "In what sport? Basketball? Oh, that's good huh?"
Uh, YEAH. sheesh.
Just because LAST year I could have cared less. And did, actually. But that doesn't give all you other people an excuse. I FORGIVE you, but implore you to get on the bandwagon and live the full high school basketball fan life that I am living.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
This picture just happened across the screen saver earlier today, and it stirred in me the old hidden happiness of being with Lori. I had the priviledge of growing up with a friend I could absolutely depend upon to make me laugh until my belly ached. All the time. The kind of laughing that makes people give you that superior, sympathetic bless your heart look, but you hardly notice them because of the tears streaming out of your eyes. Our mothers gave us that look, but they had no right to it, because they are also guilty of ridiculous unmerited foolery. Apparently it's in the genes, because here are our daughters acting the same.
Insert cleverly worded, melancholic yet sweet, apt and pithy sentence here that matches the combined pain and joy I feel regarding this.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Weekends are interesting creatures.
You make plans.
You plan to accomplish alot.
You plan to sleep in but only until 7 or 8.
You plan to clean.
You plan to grocery shop.
So Friday night comes and goes.
You go to the scrap store and watch What Not to Wear.
You think you might collapse from feeling sorta bad.
The cold that you thought you got over came back and nested in your throat and chest.
You accomplish nothing except not going to dinner at Outback with your gift card because the wait is outrageous.
Sleep in until 9:30.
Decide to take kids to museum.
This turns out to be totally worth while.
Emma sits down to sketch about 2 or three statues.
Bo likes to get the view from really close and then really far away.
Home. Putz on computer for a while.
Do some laundry, but hardly any to speak of.
Try to go to Outback again, but are once more put off by the hour wait.
Go get Kid Cuisines at Publix.
And a Chocolate Yo Yo which you have no business eating.
Stay up until 2 doing a couple of pages and a card.
Sigh for all you didn't get done, and think of all that will have to be done after work all week
to make up for my lack on Saturday.
Feel lonely and depressed.
Decide to go to Waffle House.
Think to self "Now I'll NEVER get anything done today." but go anyway.
Shop for a purchase new shelf for bedroom and office chair for desk.
Feel grateful for generous husband.
Play foursquare with family.
Bust a move and get the cleaning done, the laundry done, grocery shop and make dinner.
Watch Singing in the Rain while Emma works on her valentines for school.
Sing with kids, fold laundry, blog.
Bath and Bed
End of Weekend.