Brewin' the Crew

Last night, the Brewer's clinched their division.  Now, if you are like me, that doesn't mean much--it means that the wife's team won an important game.  If you are the wife, it is like the baby Jesus swooped down upon her and bestowed sainthood on the family.

I thought she was going to implode while watching the game, as it was the last game of the series and ended up going into extra innings.  I was fearful for her well being.  Thankfully, MJagger stopped by and distracted the wife from certain doom.  (Due to MJagger's presence, the wife did not cry as she usually would.)

Right after the game ended, the wife began fretting about tickets for the Sunday home opener.  To me, this was a no brainer--she loves going to baseball games, this hasn't happened since 1982, she has been super-excited about the season--well, all season.  I guess I am a "what are you waiting for?" kind of gal" and thus if it were me, I'd buy  the ticket and go. What's to think about? Well, the poor wife hemmed.  She hawed.  She fretted.  She spoke aloud.  She paced.  She hemmed and hawed some more.  She looked miserable.  She studied the internet. She checked out seat availability and prices.  She had three browsers open at the same time.  As she couldn't read the small print on the stadium map (time for bifocals, young lady!), she had me pointing out sections on the map as she called the numbers out.

Meanwhile, I fired up my computer and make a few clicks, bought her a ticket.  There was no way I was gonna let her miss the game.  It's history.  It's exciting.  It's her people.  She has to be there.

No brainer!  There can't even have a rain out, since the stadium has a roof.  It's  meant to be.  SHE.MUST.BE.THERE!

Suffice it to say, she now has plenty to worry about. What to wear. What time to get there.  Who to ride with. Take her rally towel or leave it home. How to keep track of the Packers score which overlaps with the Brewer game. What to do when they win.  What to do if, heaven forbid, they lose.

Bring on the racing sausages, boys and girls.  The wife is in the playoffs.

 
On WIN-sconsin

The wife is in her absolute glory: she is in sports nirvana, thanks to the Cheddarlands sporting world.  For those of you not paying attention to the great state of Wisconsin and/or to the world of manly-men playing games in polyester uniforms, the Packers won the Super Bowl earlier in the year and are off to a tremendous start this season; the Badgers are crushing other teams like bugs; and, the Brewersare in the playoffs.  Three teams, three delicious opportunities for victory. Suffice it to say, the wife spends much of her time watching sports news on TV, listening to sports talk radio in the car and watching game scores on her iPad or iTouch.  Every once in awhile, I’ll wake up in the middle of the night (usually to pee or to slap one of the dogs because they are licking loudly and it’s disgusting) and catch her reviewing stats on her iTouch.   

Seriously.  I wake to a subtle blue light of the box scores.

At times, she isn't sure what to do.  It is quite stressful when two sporting events are on at the same time; for instance, last Sunday featured both a Packer and Brewer game at the same time.  Talk about trauma.  Thankfully, the wife was able to flip back and forth between channels.  Had this not been possible, I would have lost the wife to the world of the sports bar.

I am very glad that the Packers and Badgers will never over-lap each other, as there is not even a remote chance of their schedules overlapping.

Deciding what to wear is also rather traumatic.  Should she wear one team uniform at a time? Combine them? Change clothes several times a day?  You know someone out there has designed a shirt/uniform/jersey that featured all three of the colors/logos.  The color scheme is a bit over the top, but this is the state where you can wear camouflague to a wedding, so I don’t think many Cheeseheads are going to worry about color schemes. 

I’ve been to three Brewer Games this year and I went to one Packer game last year during their Super Bowl season, so I feel I’ve done my part.  I do love a good veggie dog at Miller Park and I must say there is nothing like going to Lambeau Field.  I enjoy watching a game or two in person.  I don't mind a road trip to the various corners of the Wisconsin universe. I own and wear team gear....

Side note: Did I ever talk about my last visit to Miller Park, where we had free seats in the “Beer Pen?”  The bleacher seated-beer-fest where you get a free t-shirt, free beer and the chance to sit with 300 of your closest, drunken friends?  Talk about the place to watch a game.  People my age were so drunk they were falling out of their clothes (well, actually women falling out of their team jerseys).  Beer spilling, swear-word hurling 40 year olds, that's who surrounded us. The wife turned to the guy sitting next to her and asked how he got tickets for the “Beer Pen.”   He slurred out that “I’m here with the Tavern of the Year.”  Says it all.  But, I digress—back to the victors of the north.  I’ve got a 2011 hot dog bobble head doll and some kind of player-related terry-towel to swing around the room.  I’ve got my Beer Pen t-shirt.  I’ve got ticket stubs.  I guess I am ready for the Win-sconsin World Series.  

Side side note: I met the when the Brewers were last in the World Series.  For those of you who don’t have any reason to know what year that would have been, it was 1982.  They didn’t win but they were at least in the World Series. Can’t say that about the Cubs.  She proudly displayed her Brewers pennant in the dorm like the true cheesehead she is and proudly wore her powder blue jersey for any and all occasions.

Things are out-of-control in a good way for Win-sconsin-ites.  I’ve never seen the wife quite like this.  It’s overload.  I am so afraid her head is going to explode or that she will need anti-depressants at the end of the seasons.  This is a lot of excitement for her.   This is a lot of excitement for Wisconsin sports enthusiasts. This is a lot of cheese, a mountain of green & gold and red and blue. 

Too bad the wife is being held hostage in the flatlands, where no one truly understands her giddiness.  We in Illinois are bitter people when it comes to sports.  Just listen to Chicago sports radio--FIBs (as they call us in Wisconsin) are always disgusted with the teams, the coaches, the games.  There is no home field advantage in the flatlands.  We don't own our team like the Cheeseheads do with the Packers.  Hell, we don't even have parking at Wrigley Field.  

Here's to the wife during her year of sporting glory. Here's to the stress of being in the Super Bowl, World Series and Rose Bowl all in the same year.  Here's to cheese, beer and brats.  Here's to finding "her people" while suffering through the trials and tribulations of living south of the Cheddar Curtain.

Here's to green and gold and red and blue.

Of Titletown and Tattoos

Big shout out to my sister and my three nieces as they travel to the high school State Bowling tournament.  All four are on the team--obviously, my sister is the coach, not a high school bowler.  How awesome is that? I predict they will CRUSH the competition like bugs.  Good luck, lady Rams!
 
Well, now doesn't that blog title make it sound like people in Titletown are getting tattoos in honor of the Packer victory in Sunday's Super Bowl?  That wasn't my original intention--they are two different topics I wanted to include in one blog--but, turns out that this blog IS about Titletown, tattoos AND Titletown fans getting tattoos in honor of this illustrious occasion.  I was going to call it, "Titletown, Toes and Tattoos," but decided my healing toe didn't deserve top billing.

We were at Master Reiki and Blue Eyes house for the big "XLV" game.  A friend--who is a HUGE Packer fan--walked in the door for the big event and showed us her new tattoo--her first tattoo (and she is way over the age of 50--what was she waiting for???!!)--a personally-designed Super Bowl-themed ankle bracelet featuring the Packer Logo, the Steeler Logo, a football and the "XLV" for the year of the bowl.  Talk about gutsy!  Getting a tattoo BEFORE you know the outcome of the game is gutsy.  She was celebrating a Packer victory before the victory was said and done.  As the wife says, "that was pretty risky."

Trust me, our friend got a little nervous at times during the game, especially when the Steelers were marching down the field in the last few minutes.  It's too late to remove that pre-game tattoo if you team loses.

I'm sure many a Packer Fan is sporting a new tattoo in honor of the Super Bowl Victory.  This isn't just a game, no matter what us Penny Heads think.  I'm glad a victory was secured so our friend will have uber-fond memories of this momentous event.

The wife hung in there during this ever-important game.  As she has been fighting sciatica (and, I'm not sure who is winning at this point), she tried to stay calm, take everything in stride, focus on keeping her muscles as relaxed as possible....and, stretch during the game.  When things seemed to get pensive (the wife's word), she would suddenly drop to the ground and start doing stretches people do for back issues. 

It's pretty funny to see someone stretching while watching a sporting event on TV, but it seemed to work, so I did not laugh.  Too loudly.

As you know (if you live in the Western Hemisphere), the Packers won the Super Bowl and thus the wife did not spontaneously combust, which is a very good thing.  At the end of the game, I look over and see that she is sobbing.  Sobbing!  This Packer thing is SERIOUS business for her, her family and the state of Wisconsin.  I can't list all the reasons she was sobbing, but trust me that there were myriad reasons.  All poor Blue Eyes wanted to do is get a photo of all of us in front of the big screen TV with the Packer victory in the background, but she couldn't get the wife off the phone, as the wife was celebrating from afar with her dad, brothers, sisters, in-laws and the like.

This has all been too much for the wife.  Now, she has a cold or the flu or both.  It's stressful being an avid Packer fan.  While most cheeseheads are out celebrating in the streets, the wife is laying feverish in the sheets.  (I couldn't resist a little rhyme, tacky as it is.)  Whatever will happen when they repeat the victory next year?  She may actually combust.  I'll have to keep a fire extinguisher next to me during the game.

As for tattoos, I went and heard Margo Mifflin, author of this book (pictured here), speak at the local college (which just happens to be my alma mater) last night.  I was all a-glow when I heard she was coming to town, as I love tattoos, I love her book, I love books about women with tattoos.  I thought here, "here's my chance to get my book autographed!"  I sat with an auditorium-full of college students and professors--it was a very big crowd, as they had to be there to fulfill a college requirement.  Can you imagine?  It's a college requirement to attend a lecture on women with tattoos!  When I was in school, we had to listen to lame old white men babble on about things of no redeeming value and of which I cannot recall one, not even one, topic.  Had topics like this been included, I would have been running to these required Forum lectures!

Anyways, the book is great, Ms. Mifflin is great, the lecture was interesting. I stuck around after the lecture in an effort to get her autograph.  As several people had questions (more like comments and opinions to me), I had to patiently wait to meet her.  Twenty-two year old college students have much to say, so it was a long wait.  I only chimed in once--that's when one of the youngsters said she can't decide on a design because "what will it look like when I'm 40 or 50?  People who are 40 or 50 don't look good with tattoos."  I literally interrupted and said, "HEY NOW! As a 50 year old person with tattoos, you're making me nervous!"  That got a laugh (no, I'm not 50, but 48.75 is pretty close) and gave pause to the 22 year old.  I wasn't sure if she was going to ask about my age or my tattoos.  Her friend asked the burning question...."do you have any tattoos?"

I just laughed.  Do I have any tattoos?!!

The author, by the way, does NOT have any tattoos.  Interesting.  Nobody asked her age but they did ask if she had any tattoos.

It was at this point I jumped in, handed her the book, admitted I was a local stalker and asked for her autograph.  She obliged, looked a wee bit shocked or amused or confused or whatever--most people must not approach her after lectures asking for her autograph.  The students were all stunned into silence.  "WHERE did you get THAT book?" they exclaimed.  Um, people! There is this thing called the internet and it is much more useful than just for buying ring tones and social networking.  I assured them they could find it on line.

So, the Packers won the Super Bowl, I got my tattoo book autographed.....and, my toe is on the mend.  It was a big hit at Blue Eyes birthday party.  Why, here is a picture of my foot eating some birthday cake and partying with all the peeps.  I got a lot of ooohs and ahhhhhs and a few diagnoses.  Seems like gout is the front runner, followed by some unremembered, obviously lame injury.  Since things seem to be healing nicely, I am going to let sleeping dogs (as in feet) lie.  Lay.  Lie.  Buttever.  I highly doubt that it is gout.  If other joints spontaneously swell and burst into color, I will go to the doctor and seek help.  If nothing further occurs, we can make fun of the "I don't know" diagnosis and call it a day.  My mother had the best answer:  it was an injury designed to turn green and gold just in time for the Packer Super Bowl game.

Come to think of it, the bruise WAS green and gold by the time the game rolled around.....

.....coincidence?  I think not.
************************************************************

Sigh.Attic.Ugh.

Lest you think I am hiding in the wake of the Bears embarrassing showing, I thought it best to alert you that I am busy playing housewife and thus have no time for blogging banter.  Seems the wife has a horrific case of sciatica and she literally has not been off the floor since 5 AM on Monday.  She reached for her toothbrush and BAM! Down to the floor she went, a scream and sob along the way.  It's been awful.  She can't walk, she can't sit, she can't lay down, she can't straighten her leg.  To get to the bathroom, she literally crawls.  It's not an easy crawl; in fact, it looks absolutely heart-breaking.  Crawl, crawl, sob.  Crawl, crawl, sob.  Actually, the only time she hasn't been on the floor is when seated on the toilet and when there, dear reader, it leads to a painful, wailing sound you never want to hear.  I made her a bed on the floor comprised of a rug, two sleeping bags on top of one and other, two dog beds (yes, dog beds, I am desperate), topped with two blankets.  I've surrounded her by pillows so the dogs can't get to her.  (Poor Freckles is beside herself with worry.  She sits guard all day.)  The wife can't get into bed because (1) she can't get off the floor; and, (2) even if she could get off the floor we have one of those giant beds that you almost need a ladder to get in and there is no way she could get in and out.

A shower? Not since Sunday and that was before the big game. Television? Doesn't have one in that room.  Food? Only if I am home to get it.  Ice? Well, where DO you put it? Her back doesn't hurt.  It's her entire leg, the one she can't straighten.  Heat? Not appealing to her and probably not a great idea.  Meds? Oh, I found a bottle of her old muscle relaxants in the back of the closet and so I am feeding her them like candy.  They don't fix the problem, they don't stop the pain but they do help her sleep for an hour or two at a time.


I want to take her to the ER but I can't get her out of the house.  I've thought about calling an ambulance but I know she'd never forgive me.  I can't get friends to help because I don't think we can carry her out without a whole bunch of screaming and the ride would be an absolute nightmare.  She has until tonight to get at least a bit better or I will indeed get her to the ER one way or another tomorrow.

She will be mortified I am blogging about this but it is what is happening in the Addiverse and I am powerless, helpless to do much of anything besides play housewife and blog for mercy. I'm told time will help with this infliction but if I'm her, I'm going to throw something at whoever says something like that.  If ANY of you have ideas about helping with sciatica, please feel free to send the ideas my way.  I am desperate.  She is desperate.  I will rub oils, I will chant, I will do massage, I will make special concoctions, I will go shopping for any food, I will do whatever you say because I really am that desperate.


The Packer win doesn't matter right now.  Even she doesn't care that the Packers won.  That says a lot.

Waving the white flag,
Addi Warrior Princess

BIG.GAME

Well, it's only 30 or so hours until tomorrow's big game.  Just an update to tell you the wife is still breathing, standing and functioning....although she has had to stop reading all those nasty comments on Book de la Face.

I can't help it the majority of my FB friends are from Chicago.

This photo is from an email I received.  I would give proper respect and recognition, but I don't know where it really came from.  It is too cool to not include.  I do not own rights to this photo but I'd love to know who does cuz I'd like to say great job!

I've noticed the Packer fans seem to be lying low (laying low? Dang, I missed that lesson in grammar) on FB.  Maybe they are up to something.  Maybe they are smart. Maybe they are too nervous to speak.  Maybe they are saving up all their collective energy so it can be output during the game.  Maybe they are waiting to STOMP all over those nasty Bear fans after Sunday's game.  Maybe they are busy praying in church and thus don't have their laptops or iPhones.  The Packer fans at work are not quiet but the Packer fans are quiet on my page. 

I'd hate for any of you to miss such Bear Fan taunting posted on my FB page, so I've included some of it below.  

WARNING TO WIFE and PACKER FANS: STOP READING NOW.  This will only hurt you.  I mean no disrespect.  I'm just sharing a few of the naughty and naughtier things posted on Book de la Face wall.  Remember: I too believe it the "Sports Illustrated Cover Curse," so I believe the score will be Packers 28, Chicago 24.  That said......

"It has been said that the British army wore red coats so that if they were shot their opponent would not be able to tell that they were bleeding. I guess that explains why the Packers wear yellow pants!" 

A teacher tells her class she's a PACKERS fan.The class agrees with her except one little girl. When asked who she likes the girl said THE BEARS.The teacher asked why she liked the BEARS and she replied because my mommy and daddy are fans. The teacher replies that's not a reason to like them. What if your dad was an idiot and your mom was a moron,then what would you be? The little girl replied A PACKERS FAN!!!

A Bears fan, a Packers fan and a Seahawks fan are climbing a mountain and arguing about who loves his team more. The Seahawks fan insists that he is the most loyal. "This is for the Seahawks!" He yells, and jumps off the side of the mountain. Not to be outdone, the Bears fan is next professing his love for his team. He yells, "This is for the Bears!" And pushes the Packers fan off the mountain... GO BEARS!!!!

Our Father who Art in Chicago , Football be Thy game. Let Forte run, 1 Super Bowl won, on earth as it is in Soldier Field. Give us Sunday a playoff victory, and forgive us our penalties, as we defeat those Packers who play against us, lead us not into elimination, but deliver us to Dallas ! In the name of the fans, the city of Chicago , and the good Bears ' name, Amen 

(I dunno about you, but I get kinda creeped out when people use the "Our Father" as the basis of a football prayer.)

Question - What do you call 47 men watching the Superbowl? Answer- The Green Bay Packers!!!

Q: How do we know the Tooth Brush was invented in Wisconsin?
A: If it were anywhere else it would have been named a Teeth Brush

This just in....the main library in Green Bay has burned down...both books were destroyed. The tv guide and the how to make Venison sausage for dummies 2nd edition hard cover.

Ouch! 

There is a huge chance this blog will not be one bit funny after Sunday's game.  I suppose which side you are on.  If the Packers win, then Packers fans can make fun of all these ridiculous rantings and rub it in Bear Fan faces.  If the Bears win, the Packer fans will remove me from their blog bookmarks and the Bear fans will re-post these as their status and add even more obnoxious banter for the next thirty years.

Thirty more hours, boys and girls.  Time.will.tell.

Trouble in Paradise

Well, it's happened!  The Bears are going to meet the Packers in the game of the century. No game since 1941 has been this monumental.  As a NFL football fan, I am WAY excited about the Monsters of the Midway meeting the Land of the Frozen Tundra Cheeseheads for the chance to go to the Big Show.  I am proudly claim my Chicago-land roots as the Pack march in to Soldier Field.  Why, here I am in 2009, standing in front of the ever-so-infamous Soldier Field. Growl!

 

As the partner of a cheesehead, this is problematic.  You can't root for both teams.  Per the wife, that would be ridiculous.  As the partner of a cheesehead who will gladly don the green and gold (as evidenced here), I am conflicted.  While I love a good trip to Lambeau Field (home of the vegetarian brat) and I enjoy the wife's passion for the game and I support the wife in all her misguided adventures--er, I mean her passion for the Packers, I need to pick a side in this house divided.

 

There is trouble in paradise.

 

Understandably, the wife is a nervous wreck about this big game.  Packer fans aren't JUST fans.  This is THEIR team.  This is THEIR game.  This is THEIR life! As I have said before and I will say a billion times again, they ARE their team.  They are ONE with their team.  They don't say "The Packers;" they say "we," as in "we have to win this game....we look great today....we might be developing a running game." They live and breathe with their team.  I've never seen anything like it.  The priests in the Catholic churches pray aloud for the team....

For the record: Don't EVER say that "it's just a game" to the wife.  It makes her delirious.  It is NOT just a game.  It is her reason for being.

Losing this game would be devastating to the wife and to her people.  The wife wonders if it would have been better--easier--if the Packers hadn't made it this far.  That way, they couldn't lose this game.  Of course, if they didn't play the game, they couldn't potentially go to the Super Bowl, so this confuses me. I find being in the playoffs amazing, electrifying, entertaining.  To the wife, it's painful, stressful, angst-filled.

 

God help us all if the Packers do make it to the Super Bowl and lose. I'll need to buy stock in anti-depressants. 

And so, it will be a very long week.  Every time I look at the wife, she looks distracted, worried.  I can tell this is weighing heavily on her....and, it's only Wednesday.  By Saturday, she should be a puddle on the floor.   

Me? I am going to enjoy the banter and the festivities and the excitement.  I'm going to taunt both sides and be taunted by both sides.  For fun, I think I'll wear my Bears coat today and my Packers coat tomorrow.  That really pisses both sides off.  It's a game!  It's a game and it should be fun! Pass me a vegetarian brat and give me the Super Bowl Shuffle.  May we all enjoy a good cheesehead....may the wife and I chuckle at the memory of that sloppy-drunk, frustrated Chicago fan who fell on his head when we were at the game....may we all continue our existence, no matter what the outcome....

 

Yup, it's gonna be a really long week in the Addiverse.  May Vince Lombardi be with all the cheddar heads this week.  May George Halas look down fondly upon his Bears.  May the wife not beat the snot out of me when I accidentally cheer for a great Chicago play. 

Amen.
*****************************************************************

A House Divided

Before I speak of the house divided, let me just say that I received MORE OB TAMPONS in the MAIL!!!  Five little bullets of love found their way to my mailbox early this week.  I was smitten!  Lest you think I am being inundated with ob ultra Tampons from strangers, let me assure you I am not--although I am not averse to that--these, as well as the first mailing, are from school chums of olden days.  The first mailing was from a high school friend, while this bundle of five from a college friend.  I am indubitably indebted to both.  (The rest of you peeps, take note: they have set a pretty high bar.  Don't let that stop you from sending ob Ultra tampons my way.  Just know that you have your work cut out for you.  Remember, I will drive extraordinary lengths to pick up any ultra ob tampons you might have--road trip!)

The five tampons were accompanied by this hand-written note:

'I can't think of something suitable to say in a personal note. "Enjoy" seems a little too personal; "Good Luck" lacking in confidence.  Have a nice day!'

Suffice it to say, I didn't just have a nice day--I had a GREAT day!  Thank you, Tampon-sharer of the East.

I'm pacing myself when using the ob Ultras as once they are gone, they are gone.  One tampon day at a time.

Now, to the house divided.

As you know, the wife is one of the hugest Packer fans on the planet, out-ranked only by members of her immediate family.  Remember, this is the family who burst into tears when a new player caught his first Packer touchdown.  This is serious business to them.   This is the family that changes the time of the Thanksgiving meal to work around the Packer schedule.  This is the family who wears Packer regalia to any and all functions.  This is the family whose moods are dictated by the win or loss by their beloved green and gold.  Suffice it to say, when one is faced with an entire--and, I do mean 100%--in law side of Packer fans, one must make a choice......survival, safety, love, treason.

I was born a Bears fan--after all, I am from the Chicago-land.  I don't think I know any Chi-town people who are anything but Bear fans in some way or another.  Oh, I've loved the Oakland Raiders for the duration (for various reasons over the passing seasons), but I believe deep down inside it is my birthright & heritage to sport orange and blue.  That said.....

I am a Packer Fan by obligation.  Well, I suppose I should say choice, but it is more out of being a smart grrrrl and dedicated spouse.  As noted above, I have no allies on the wife's side of the family.  Every single one of them lives north of the Cheddar Curtain.  One.Hundred.Percent.  There is no wavering of love or passion for the Packers.  Good or bad, the Pack holds all the cards.

Call it obligation.  I call it smart.....safety....survival.....and, of course, love. 

If my willingness to wear green and gold doesn't scream of love, I don't know what does.

Don't get me wrong.  I have really enjoyed outings to Lambeau Field.  I have enjoyed Packer banter.  I have enjoyed wearing the wife's Packer coat.  I'm basically a football whore.  I love football.  But, it is still treason. I am a marked woman when I return to my land of birth.

This weekend, both the Packers and Bears are playing in the playoffs....thankfully, they are not each other.  As wrong as it might sound, I want BOTH teams to win.  Trust me, I have my motivations.....

...the wife will be in a MUCH better mood for the duration of the weekend if the Pack win;
...it will be fun to have two victories in the division;
...it means the Packers and Bears will meet next week for the NFC championship and the right to go to the superbowl.

If those two teams playing each other for the right to go to the Super bowl doesn't light up this house divided, nothing will.

Can't wait  to see what colors I'll be wearing next week.
********************************************************

"Just Another Reason to Hate the Vikings Even More"

I didn't write that title. The wife did. That's what she said when I asked her about what I should title this blog entry. I told her I was going to write about Randy Moss returning to the Vikings, home of that guy whose last name starts with an "F."


Those of you who know the wife--the ultimate, obsessed, consumed Packer Backer who bleeds green and gold, a Cheddar head through and through, a woman who talks about "her" team in "we" and "our," a fan whose blood pressure rises just at the mention of the number four--are not surprised by her title suggestion.

"Bitter--table for one." That's the wife.

The wife's ultimate sporting nightmare is now underway. For those of you who actually have lives and aren't paying attention to the world of football (American football, not soccer football--don't even toy with me), please know that Randy Moss has been traded back to the Vikings. His illustrious (and I use that term loosely) career started in purple and gold and looks like it will end in purple and god (see mooning photo here to refresh your memory of MIP--Moss in Purple).

I suppose we could look at this like my return to my old job. I was there, I left, I returned there. Moss was there, he left, he returned. Not such a bad thing in itself....unless you are a Packer Fan.

The wife laments "he has always been a thorn in 'our' side."

This photo of our boyfriend number four is basically what the wife looks like when she starts talking about the Packers these days. I am waiting for her to hyperventilate and pass out. She is so distracted that she constantly mutters about this ultimate nightmare, unable to think of anything else besides this travesty.

"He OWNS the Packers!" she cries.

When I mention that this is ONLY a game, she gives me this incredulous, blank stare.

I thought it was bad the other night when the Packers lost to the Bears on Monday Night football. The wife was so distraught that she couldn't sleep. "EIGHTEEN PENALTIES!" she would growl. "EIGHTEEN PENALTIES!" She had to go sleep on the couch she was so upset. She radiated angst.

But, this. THIS is so much worse. I think I might have to stage an intervention.

Thankfully, the wife will be surrounded by supportive, loving Packer fans during this Sunday's Packer game. I may have to pay Argo Warrior Princess and Three Hawk therapy fees for inviting us over to watch the game.

As I type this, there is muttering in the distance.... something about bad behavior being rewarded, then a final:

"He and Favre: two selfish divas! They deserve one and other."

Yup. "Bitter--table of one. Your table is ready."

Cheese de la Birthday

While I am excited that Lady Gaga is coming back to town this winter and despite being very distracted by the start of this season's Dancing with the Stars, those things will have to wait. There is a cheese head's birthday event to review.

The wife is still talking about her birthday trip to the mecca...land of green and gold....in fact, she had such a good time that she is thinking this should be an annual tradition.

For those of you not in the know, we packed a pile of Packer gear into the Civic (Packer coats, t-shirts, sweatshirts, hats, pajamas) and hit the road this weekend on the wife's birthday.

The destination? Green Bay.

The reason? To visit the hallowed halls of Ray, Bart, Reggie, Curly.....and, to go to a Green Bay Packer game.

As the wife was uber-excited, we did indeed leave at noon on Saturday, her actual day of birth. With no stops to slow us down and absolutely perfect weather, we made it in what had to be record time--just over three hours. (Okay--I admit to speeding, but it still was amazingly fast even if I hadn't been speeding.) Before she had time to say "Brett who?" she was standing on the grounds of her beloved team. We didn't waste time going to the hotel--we went right to Lambeau Field. Total awe, oozing with excitement, nostalgia and respect (and most probably a tear), the wife strolled slowly toward Lambeau. Plenty of time was available for visiting the Pro Shop, wandering the atrium, staring at the gates to the historic field.

I am here to tell you: Packer fans are really, really serious about their team, their field. There were all sorts of people milling about, all decked out in their team colors, all snapping photos, all spending money in the Pro shop.

As it was her birthday, I asked the wife to pick something out as her gift--she decided on a Packer baseball jersey. (Is it just me or does anyone else find it humorous that a football team sells baseball jerseys?) Here is a photo of the carpeting in the Pro Shop--like everything else in the town, it shouts GREEN BAY PRIDE!

Yes, those are the wife's shoes. You didn't think I was taking photos of some stranger's feet, did you?

I couldn't go home empty handed and thus purchased a baseball hat. I do not look good in hats but couldn't resist taking home a little something and a hat seemed just as good as anything else. I also got a glo-orange stocking camp...in case I ever go deer hunting, I suppose.

After checking in at the hotel (which was rather non-descript but did have a view of Lambeau if you stood in just the right place in the parking lot), we ventured into the tundra better known as downtown Green Bay. Purely by accident, we ended up at the one place we most certainly should have ended up--Titletown Brewing Company. Talk about the perfect place to eat dinner; talk about the best beer bread on the planet. I felt right at home with the train theme; the wife felt right at home with the entire Titletown theme. Can I just say the food was awesome? Beer drinkers would love the place--plenty of beers to choose from--mix and match at your leisure. If you are ever in Green Bay, make sure to stop by this place. I guarantee it will be worth it. And, get a loaf of sliced beer bread to take home. It's like a giant brick of happiness.

Speaking of beer, Freckles Warrior Princess and Bitty Bichon seemed to be having a good time while we were out of town. Dang dogs were partying without us! At least they were drinking good beer and weren't driving anywhere.


Game day was absolutely delightful. Perfect weather, tasty free hotel breakfast, free event parking (now THAT'S awesome!), super fabulous seats, vegetarian brats (who knew?), real brats smothered with kraut and brown mustard, fly by during the National Anthem, electric crowd, home opener victory. I'm not sure it can get any better than that....that said by someone born and bred in Bear's country.

There really is no happier place to watch a football game. Everyone at Lambeau is so happy and so colorful and so involved. They talk in "we." It really is their team, as bizarre as I might find this. They embrace the culture of green and gold. They live and breath what happens on that turf. It's no wonder they are so crushed by ol' Number Four. This is more than a game to them. It's the Packers. No wonder the wife is always crying at one time or another during Packer games.

I think we've found a new tradition for the wife's birthday. I can live with that....they just need to keep making those vegetarian brats.

Cheese curd, anyone?
***************************************************************
P.S. Lady Gaga tickets go on sale Friday. Who's with me?!!

The Perfect Week

The wife is SUPER excited these days for two reasons: one, we are going to a Packers Game this weekend; and two, she got a "Magikloth" for her birthday. This has the makings of the perfect week.

Here's a photo of the wife, beaming with joy, at a previously-enjoyed Packers Game. Yes, it is freezing. Yes, that is me hiding behind a neck gaiter because I can no longer feel my feet and I am seeking one shred of warmth. But, I digress.

Let's start with the cleaning product, shan't we? Dear friend Otis Cabrio gave the wife a few of these Magiklean diddies in honor of number 46. (Does this friend know the wife or what? Cleaning products for the birthday are the bomb in our house.) The claim is that the magikloth (yes, spelled like that--I even went on line to check) cleans things like windows, mirrors, stainless steel, windshields and even computer monitors without streaking. At least that is what the flyer says.

If you know the wife, you know this is the second most perfect gift--the first perfect gift being tickets to a Packers game.

As she has a lust--a diagnosable illness--for cleaning and a serious disdain for streaky car windows, the wife has been on a mission magikleaning everything in sight. She cleaned my computer monitor as she walked by; she cleaned the fireplace glass doors; she danced her way right out to the garage. I haven't seen her since. From the "oooohs" and "ahhhhs" I am hearing, I am betting that this magikcloth is actually working.

I'll get back to you about the success of the magikloth on my windshield after I drive to and from work tomorrow. The test is always to take the car out into the actual elements--everything looks good when it's in the garage.....

As for the Packers, brother Tommy Hilfiger, as you know from a previous post, gave the wife a Packer ticket for her birthday. We haven't been to a Packers game in a few years and, if you are the wife, you can NEVER go to too many Packer Games, so this is a pretty big deal.

This photo is from 1997--I've used this photo before and couldn't resist using it again, as it is a classic. That's some seriously big hair we are sporting. (Click on photo to see a close up of those manes.) Let's not even talk about the rolled-up jeans.

Anyways, the wife is really pumped for the birthday game. She purchased a new shirt for the occasion and is ready for any kind of weather that might come our way. Being the fun, romantic type that I am (I really do try, despite basically being a neanderthal), I reserved a hotel room for us so we could go up the night before. She had been lamenting about how she didn't want to drive there and back on the same day and kept talking about how she wanted to stay in Green Bay, so I thought it would be awesome to surprise her. (No offense to the wife or the people of Wisconsin: I have no desire to stay in a Green Bay hotel, so this is indeed a nice gift from my self-centered, Chicago-orange-and-blue-bred heart. The things we do for love.) I had it all figured out, even got the gaybors involved. It was a perfect plan.....

...but, alas....the wife just couldn't stay off line and couldn't stop looking at the hotel prices and wouldn't stop reading aloud the hotel prices. She exclaims the name and price of the hotel I have made reservations.... it's--of course--significantly cheaper than the price I paid for when making the reservations.....

I give up. I am all about saving money these days. I don't want to spend one penny more than I have to on a hotel room. I'd rather spend it on food while at the stadium or to by the wife some cheese-related product in honor of her birthday. I wave the cheddar flag and tell her of my surprise so she can book that reservation and I can cancel mine.

Sigh. She is impossible to surprise.

Suffice it to say, she is one happy Packer Fan who is indeed enjoying this perfect week and who is having her birthday wishes come true. All she needs to make it absolutely perfect is a Packer Victory and successfully magikleaned windshields.

I'd say there's a 99% chance of an absolutely fabulous cheddar-flavored birthday.....hope she brings the magikloth along so she can clean my car windows while I drive.....
******************************************************************************

Way Too Good to Be True

I think I saw her blood pressure raise about 75 points right in front of my eyes when the sports channel announed Brett Favre's return to Minnesota today. Man, that guy just gets her goat. Ol' Number Four has returned to torture her for yet another year. "Selfish! Diva! Prima Donna!" she laments. He is truly a disloyal asswipe in her world, to be sure.

Some of you may remember I fell prey to "Toner Pirates" many a month ago, so there is absolutely no judgment here. I purchased a $500 canister of toner, so I know how good the scammers really are at their game.

The wife has been looking for Packer tickets. She has been searching all corners of the world, including popular web sites. Being the frugal consumer that she is, much time has been spent comparison shopping. Last night, she started to tell me about one particular opportunity, of which I did not listen to. It was via List de la Craig. Ignoring my indifference (what do I care about Packer tickets?), she sent an inquiry email to the seller in hopes of learning more about the too-good-to-be-true Packer ticket prices offered.

People! Whenever you think it's too good to be true, trust your gut. It IS too good to be true.

So, the wife gets a reply from some guy...who reportedly just moved to London. That's why he's selling the tickets. Since the name of the guy is a famous soccer player, that sure seemed suspect....but, she kept reading. She readily admits that she started to get sucked in--great prices, flexibility in purchasing of tickets, promise of buyer protection.....

I get home and she hands me an email regarding the tickets. I couldn't even get through the first two sentences. I kept saying, "this doesn't make sense," and she kept demanding, "keep reading!" I tried to get through it but couldn't follow the message--there was something in the grammar department that wasn't registering. Every time I would try to quit reading, she would direct me back to the email.

I put the email down and gave up. "I don't know, this sounds funny." Inside, I was thinking, "Please tell me you didn't buy these tickets!"

The wife then proudly announced it is indeed a scam. I was then educated on all the "red flags" included in the email: poor grammar, fake names, use of a third party, guaranteed buyer protection plans, ridiculous offers, stories of being out of the country for this or that reason, use of an escrow service....all signs that you should run quickly away. The wife, being the professor that she is, did a complete and thorough googling and learned that she almost became the next victim of on-line shenanigans. No out-of-the-country naughty tidbit is going to toner pirate her. She thankfully identified the situation for what it was and kept her money safely tucked in the bank.

As I love all of you beloved Addiverse participants, I want YOU to be educated, too. If you are buying things like tickets on-line, let the buyer beware. (You know, I was really miffed at the lady who was buying my billion-dollar Madonna tickets I was selling on eBay--she kept asking questions, didn't seem to believe me, wanted to see the tickets, was quite the nervous Nelly....now, I totally understand why.) It's a huge, huge, huge business to screw people out of their money. Fake web sites, fake third party arrangements, fake tickets, fake everything......

....the only thing that is real is your money.

Buyer do be aware! Trust your gut. Check the Better Business Bureau. Read about scams. List de la Craig does a nice job of explaining potential scams. Don't assume you think you are on a particular website--always look up into the address bar! Don't assume that if they aren't talking about Nigeria, it's not a scam. Don't get sucked into the moment.....if it is too good to be true, it most certainly is too good to be true. Run, don't walk, away from these offers. Adoringly, I say to you:

The money you save will be your own.

(Which, by the way, leaves you with lots more money to take the wife to a Packer game.)
*******************************************************

The Uniform may have changed....

…but stupid plays at critical moments are forever!

Poor, poor Brett. Three teams, three years, three last plays, three interceptions. No wonder he can't retire. How can you retire with such an awful memory? He's stuck with that last throw--an interception, a game lost. 

BTW, I have no idea how a 40 year old gets out of bed the day after getting PUMMELED in an NFL game. I mean, I don't even know how he got off the turf after some of the plays last weekend; how the hell could he get up the next morning? I have trouble getting out of bed after bowling three games in a fund-raiser.

The wife says he'll be back. He'll say he's retiring, give a tearful good-bye, avoid all mini-camps and training camps, hang out with some high schoolers and show up on the Astro-turf right before the season starts. Egotistical, arrogant, shameless--he'll be back. (Her brother, Tommy Hilfiger, says Brett won't be back. Do I sense a friendly family wager?)

The uniform may have changed....but I highly doubt Number 4 has changed at all.

Bear Down, Chicago Bears!

Be warned, men: there is WAY too much information included in this blog. You squeamish guys who don't want to hear about certain womanly issues should turn away now, no matter how much you love the Bears.

Well, the Bears may have lost to Green Bay last Sunday but it didn't stop me from having a great time at Soldier Field. The wife was in her glory with a Packer win, but I'm not sure she had as much fun as I did--worrying about your team takes its toll. That's the beauty about cheering for the Bears--they suck, so you don't really expect them to win. You just bitch about them losing and call it a day.

In preparation for my first trip to Soldier Field, we went on a shopping spree only a hunter or a outdoor sportsman could love. I found an awesome pair of winter boots at Gander-at-that-Mountain, home of the snow-boot-for-25-degrees-below-zero-weather; although they cost more than I wanted to spend, I knew they would keep my tootsies toasty and was glad that they were not camouflage. I also bought some new socks, some of those hand-warmer thingies and a new orange and blue hat. Yummy!

My second line of defense would be layers--lots of them. I had it all planned out--base layer of long-underwear; second layer of "normal" clothes (jeans and sweater); outer layer of snow pants and Bears jacket. I knew it was "scarf" day at the game, so I'd also don my new, free, orange & blue scarf. This all sounded good in theory and I was quite impressed with my planning, until......

......I woke up with a surprise. Yes, ladies---under all those layers, I would be dealing with a monthly womanly delight. Now, THERE'S some fun at a football game where you are dressed like the kid in "A Christmas Story." The thought of having to take off all those layers to go to a public bathroom made me break out in a cold sweat. So much for my planned limitation of liquid intake--it wouldn't matter, as I'd have to go to the bathroom while at the game. Might as well drink up that hot chocolate in the $6.50 commemorative cup.

Men, you cannot appreciate this. Women, feel my pain!

Armed with warm clothes, money, parking pass, tickets and tampons, we hopped in the car nice and early, as suggested by our ticket-giving neighbors. The goal, they explained to us, was to beat the traffic jam. As they are seasoned Bears-game-goers, we took their advice and got to the parking lot by 9:30 AM. (I hear many a fan has missed the beginning of the game due to being stuck in traffic.) We did indeed miss the traffic and we scored a great parking space. Unbelievably to us, the lot was filled with tail-gating football fans at this early hour. Beer flowing, bags flying, grills grilling--it was an explosion of blue and orange. Even more unbelievably, there was a ton of green and gold milling about in the Parking lot--in fact, I'd guess a fourth of the people in the lot (and, at the game) were Packer fans. And, here I was afraid the wife would be in danger due to her decision to wear her packer coat--instead, she was safely surrounded by her peeps.

Once we left the car, we were exposed to the elements. Unlike Lambeau Field, Soldier Field does not have any "indoor" areas offering shelter from the cold. Thankfully, it wasn't nearly as cold as I thought it would be--the temp hovered around 35 degrees--which is quite balmy for Chicago in December. Those new boots and all those layers kept me warm and dry.

We wandered around the tail-gate area and enjoyed the sites before entering the hallowed halls of Soldier Field. (If you click on the photo collage above, you can get a closer look at the photos.) We saw a little of everything. Everyone seemed festive and jolly, even though Chicago fans are basically bitter and angry people. Before the game, they are happy and smiling--during and after the game, it's a hate fest. The wife still can't get over that part of the event.

I'm not sure why they (whoever they are) decided to "upgrade" and make Soldier Field look like a giant space ship, but they did and it is indeed quite the site, from inside and out. It was still awe-inspiring to be at Soldier Field, home of Walter Payton, Dick Butkus, Gayle Sayers and the fifty some quarterbacks that have played for the Bears in the last ten minutes...

After snarfing down a pizza (God, I love Chicago for its pizza) and after finding the wife a hot dog (which basically sucked, per her report-- it wasn't a true Chicago hot dog and so she was very disappointed but ate it anyways--she said she had paid too much to throw it away), we found our way to our seats. We were able to see everything from our perch--it was awesome. Man, we love our neighbors!

The wife was lucky enough to be seated next to a Bears fan who just happened to have four Packer players on his fantasy football team; hence, he found himself cheering for both teams. (Fantasy football sure makes football-watching that much more interesting, if you ask me. The wife feels otherwise.)

While the pre-game antics were in full gear, I kept putting out the thought that there would be an Air Force fly-by at the end of the Star Spangled Banner. I mean, come on: is there any better way to start a football game than with the roar of fighter jets? We stood, sang, put our hats back on....damn, no fly by. Just as I was about to sit down for the start of the game, I heard them---the jets were coming! Better a few seconds late than never. They swooped in from the south, gave the crowd a thrill and roared off to the north, finishing their fly-by with a criss-cross move. NOW the game could begin!

I must admit, the most entertaining part of the game was when a very drunk man (sitting two people to my right) managed to fall over into the row in front of him, falling directly on some small woman--who promptly let out a blood-curdling scream.....the guy ended up with his feet literally in the air, his head on the cement between the rows. He kept yelling, "I'm all right!" while his feet flayed in the air. He was not able to get up on his own--he required help from several fans to right himself. Thankfully, the smooshed woman was no worse for the wear. Once it was determined she was fine, the ribbing began. That man didn't hear the end of it for the remainder of the game, deservedly so.

As for the rest of the crowd, there was a lot of yelling, moaning, bitching, whining, spewing, threatening. Chicago fans are serious about their sports and they do not take kindly to losing teams, losing coaches, losing seasons. The wife was quite enthralled--she'd never experienced anything like it. If I were Lovie, I'd need therapy. Everyone wants him fired or worse. Like I said, Chicago fans are brutal. (It was rumored there were so many Packer fans at this game because the season ticket holders were boycotting and thus sold their tickets.)

Anyone who knows me knows that we didn't stay for the end of the game. I'm so predictable. We left so I could get out of the lot without incident and so I could get to a bathroom sooner than later. Hey, I drive a stick shift car and I had my period--no need to make things more stressful than they might be. Have you ever been in stop-and-go Chicago traffic in an automatic? We zipped out of there and were back on the expressway before the wife could even get the game tuned in on the A.M. dial.....

....we listened as the Bears lost....again (or, the Packers won, depending on your point of view). Oh well--in the words of Cubs fans, "there's always next year."

I can't wait to use my commemorative cup.....maybe when the wife's family visits.....
***********************************************************

Bears vs. Packers, Here we Come!

For those of you that don't know, I was born and bred in the jurisdiction of the Chicago Bears, so it's been a long (Lambeau) leap to hang out with the wife's ever-loving, all-residing Cheddar heads without guilt and shame. As evidenced in this picture, I have indeed embraced the ways of the wife, as it not only assures my place with the in-laws, it also has allowed me to attend some awesome professional football games in a town that loves football more than life itself. (It's a terrible photo of me but what the hell--I'm in the land of green and gold and I was freezing and I was pouring hot chocolate down my pants in an effort to get warm--it illustrates my dedication to the wife and her beliefs as well as illustrates my interest in attending professional football games....) I grew up in the landing pattern of O'Hare, far away from Vince Lombardi and the Frozen Tundra. I grew up eating Gene & Jude "rubber dawgs," not some brat product. In other words, deep down inside, little blobs of blue and orange blood pulse through my veins.

So, last night we are eating dinner with the gaybors and they ask us if we would like their Bear vs. Packers tickets for next weekend at Soldier Field. I thought I might have guacamole in my ears--I could have sworn they just ask us if we wanted their tickets so we could go to Soldier Field for a Bears/Packers game......

The look on the wife's face assured me I had heard correctly. Tickets to Soldier Field! Wow! I think I was speechless. At least, I don't remember speaking. I was too surprised and excited to think or speak. Yup, the gaybors were giving us their tickets (and parking pass!) to the game, as they have a conflicting commitment.

Is life good or what?!

I've never been to a Bears Game nor have I been to Soldier Field. I've been to a whole slew of Cubs games, I've even been to two (dear god) White Sox games (I've never admitted that til this moment), but never a Bears game. I've always wanted to go to a game there but have never made it, for one reason or another. I've driven by Soldier Field a bunch of times but have never been inside.

The thought of seeing the wife's beloved Packers playing the Bears in Soldier Field is almost enough to make my ovaries shoot out all their remaining eggs.

We are going to the Bears/Packers Game!

The wife inquired what might happen to her if she wore her Packer Paraphernalia to the game; the gaybors seemed to think it would be okay. I'm a bit more skeptical, but will go with whatever is decided. Just to be on the safe side, I'll keep the car keys--if Bears fans come crashing down on her, I can quickly (and with much cowardice) run away, jump in the car and scream down the Eisenhower, all the way professing my allegiance to Halas.

I, on the other hand, will proudly sport blue and orange, complete with my stadium length Bears coat my parents gave me many a Christmas ago. No green and gold for me. This game is all about the Monsters of the Midway, of Sweetness and of Sayers, of nasal Chicago accents and Chicago traffic jams.

It is also about dressing warmly. December in Chicago can be brutal. (Or, it can be in the 60's. One never knows.) Layers. I'll have to dress in layers. I know I'll be cold, I know I will whine, I know I will lose feeling in my feet....

....but, I also know that I will be one mighty happy Chi-caw-goan that day and know that my frozen toes are only temporary.

Note to the wife: next Sunday, I will be orange and blue and will remember what I was brought up to believe:

"I have two favorite football teams--The Bears and anyone who beats the Packers."

Amen.
*******************************************************************

Is it Thursday already?

Sheesh! I am so far behind schedule. I woke up and thought it was Tuesday. Suffice it to say, my "real" blogging will have to wait until tomorrow. And, I can't wait to blog about the roller derby event the wife, Argo WP, Three Hawk and I will be in attendance at on Saturday night. How fun is that?

Until I can write a proper blog, I leave you with a little Green Bay humor. The Wife is CONVINCED that Ted Thompson (owner of the GB Packers) is purposefully ruining the team. Them Packer Backers take the game very seriously....they are having a really tough time with this stinky season. I am thinking the wife is gonna needs lots of therapy by the time the end of December rolls around.

It doesn't help that Brett Favre is having a killer year.

Don't worry, his reign will end....I picked him to be my quarterback this weekend for my fantasy football team. I am the kiss of death for any player I pick, so Brett will throw five interceptions this weekend. You read it here.

'Nuf Said. I have to go get my Thursday groove on.....

Implosion of the Cheddarlands

By the time most of you are reading this, Wisconsin will or will not have imploded....and, we will know the fate of the wife's sciatic readings of Green Bay football. Yes, today is the day that that evil, two-faced, no-good, traitorous man of no honor returns to the hallowed halls of Lambeau Field. In deference to the wife, I shall not speak his name but note that his number FOUR has been soiled by his cataclysmic decision to play for the most-hated, purple-covered, low-life rival.

I could have waited til after the game to write this blog, but waiting til the lands north of the Cheddar Curtain have faced their glory or doom seemed a bit dangerous--after all, we DO live quite close to the Wisconsin border and thus I must be prepared for anything.

The wife is shopping at Wally World right now--probably in a lame attempt to stay distracted from the game this afternoon. We'll also be going to church, where I know many people will vent/talk/fret/lament over this afternoon's scheduled happening. Her sciatica has flared up this morning, no doubt in response to the flair up of her Cheese-filled soul.

At this moment, it sucks to be a Packer fan. As they say in Apocalypse Now: "The horror, the horror!"

Packers fans, as you Addiverse readers know, are another breed. It's not just A game--it's THEIR game, THEIR team, THEIR field, THEIR life. They talk in "we" when speaking of the football team. They were completely devastated when Number Four left. They were completed blind-sided when Number Four joined ranks with the biggest rival. They took it completely and totally personally, the wife included.

Today is the day Number Four returns to the Mecca. How he will do remains to be seen. I am much more worried about the fans than the man. I am fearful that the wife's bulging disks may blow out all over the living room. I am terrified that the entire State of Wisconsin (save the upper northwest corner) will totally implode. Beer, brats, cheese will all be swallowed into the earth, never to be seen again.

As a Book de la Face friend says, "the state of Wisconsin will be closed between 3-6 PM." Indeed it will be. The issue is....

....will it open back up at 6 PM???

Closure

This photo of madonna has nothing to do with anything except that if you look reeeeeeally closely, you'll see Freckles Warrior Princess and Lucy Bark of Poteidaia on her t-shirt. Is that hilarious or what? God, I love computers.

I have plenty of time to write this blog, as the wife is busy being miserable while watching the Packer/Viking game. Her misery is twofold: she hates Brett Favre/entire Vikings franchise; and, her sciatic nerve is out of control, so she can't stand up straight/sit comfortably/move fast/move at all. I highly doubt watching the game will help her sciatic nerve (or, her well being or her blood pressure or anything in general). The game would have been bad enough without the physical pain....I am going to sit quietly in the corner and type and say, "Yes, Dear" whenever applicable.

Shameless plug: By the way, if you want to read a book my cousin wrote, go to Lulu.com and search "Offing Miss Nevada." Five bucks for a downloaded copy of her first novel. I downloaded my own copy and will let you know what I think. Remember, tho: if you buy a copy of her book, you BETTER buy a copy of my book when it is in print. I'm counting on you, beloved blog readers.


The 25th college reunion has come and gone. Although only three of us from the Class of 1984 managed to make it back to campus, it went swimmingly and fun was had by all. I gotta tell ya, though--the Class of 1979 looked like they were having an awesome time. Music, tent, gatherings....Good for you, party alums! The Class of '84 could learn a thing or two from you.

I am happy to report that the wife and I had plenty of time to hang out with Alum 2/3 and 3/3 on Saturday afternoon and evening. We had time to walk around the campus (albeit in the rain), participate in the taping of alumni telling tales of their days at the school, hang out in one of the student lounges, and....plenty of time to make amends and find closure. As Alum 3/3 said, "it meant a lot to me to come back to campus and have some closure--you and I are both very different people than we were back then--or, better, we kept the best part of ourselves and allowed the rest to grow the hell up."

Ain't that the truth.

When Alum 3/3 says we are different people than we were in college, she isn't kidding! It's not about jobs or master degrees or types of cars--we are different, better people. Although I'm an alumna-slug , I like to believe I am relatively stable, much nicer, much more socially conscious, much more reflective, definitely healthier. Alum 3/3 is in a much better place, is an eloquent speaker, incredibly knowledgeable, profoundly comfortable in her own skin. I sense Alum 2/3 has found a sort of peace. (If you're wondering, I'd say college found one of us a loud drama queen, one of us a drunken ball of emotions and one of us a confident-less, quiet loner. I'll leave it to you and your imagination to figure out who's who.)

Alas, youth really is wasted on the young. :-)

I like the word "closure." I've been thinking about what word might sum the reunion up and that's it...so, thanks Alum 3/3. I have a lot of amends to make and I'm glad these two classmates didn't pound the piss out of me when we re-united. I would have deserved it. (Thank you for being kind.) It's always a wonderful opportunity when there is a chance to find closure and to make amends. (I'm really, really am sorry I hid in the back of a closet during that really loud dorm party so you wouldn't see me when it was my job to stop the party. More importantly, I'm really, really sorry I was a jerk.)

Enough sappy dribble. Let's go back to the wife and her Monday Night Football game. I think the wife is seeking closure about Brett Favre betraying the Packers. I think she'll find it if the guy throws a bunch of interceptions and the Vikings lose. Or, she'd be happy if the Pack knocks the pound the piss out of ol' Purple Number Four. He can go back to Lambeau Field for a reunion but he can forget about making amends--those Packer Fans aren't EVER going to forgive him.
***********************************************************************