It's not me, it's you

I don't know how to say this...but it's time to break up.  There I just said it.  Travis Ford, I'm breaking up with you.  To the left, to the left.  Everything you own is in a box to the left.

I just sat through another disappointing Cowboy basketball game.  Husband and dog both fell asleep so I was alone to suffer through the joke of a game.  Yay me!  Just keep suffering.  Builds character.

I was thinking while I watched it spiral out of control AGAIN about how this is kind of like dating.  Dating in college.  So join me as I draw the comparison, won't you?  I should also note that this analysis is not reflective of any real life people, relax.  It's all hypothetical.  If you recognize certain traits, well, I mean, whatever.

So, you start dating a new guy, comes off the heels of the best boyfriend you could ever have (Eddie Sutton) but unfortunately it had to end and then kind of a mess of a boyfriend (Sean).  No one really knows anything about your new boyfriend, Travis.  Friends and family are skeptical, but you're all, "No it's cool.  It's time to date a different kind of guy.  This will be great.  Trust me."

Travis has a lot of good qualities.  He's good looking (great recruiting), he comes from a good family (former Kentucky player/Pitino protege), and he's loaded.  Fantastic.  Superficially this guy is going to be great.

The problem is that Travis is total and complete spaz in public.  You never know what you are going to get.  One night he's super impressive and your friends are like, "I really like him!  Way to go, Kath!" *high five emoji*  And then you take him to a party and he starts telling really inappropriate jokes and everyone is staring at you and wondering what the hell is wrong with Travis.  And you're wondering, "Why did I sign a 10-year lease with this guy after three good dates?"  Frick!

But you stick with him.  He really has good traits.  Really.  And he seems to be growing up.  Maturing. For example, you took him to a date party and he was on his best behavior (KU game, you pick the year).  He was a good dancer, he bought shots all around, he was AWESOME.  But then three days later, you guys went out to the bar, and he got so drunk he threw up down his shirt.  And you find yourself AGAIN saying, "Dammit Travis!  Stop throwing up on yourself!" 

How did you become the girl who dates the guy who keeps barfing on himself?  Freshman year was kind of understandable, because freshman don't really know what they are doing.  But you're seniors now.  Get it together for the love of everything holy.  How many times do you have to be embarrassed before you say, "You know what?  I'm tired of having to go home early.  I want a new boyfriend."

Well, that time is now.  New boyfriend, STAT.  And sure, your options are somewhat limited.  You've lost most of your friends (fans), so you are kind of a loner.  But you still look good and have a great sense of humor, and you're back in the gym.  Beauty is on the inside and someone out there will notice you.

Who?  Who is it that you want to date, Kathy?  Well, obviously there's your Jake Ryan: Bill.  Everyone knows he loves you, deep down.  And sure, he's been dating the hottest girl on campus...but she isn't that great.  She's starting to let herself go.  Maybe now's your time.  Or maybe not.  What's the worst that could happen?  He could say no.  But you are currently dating someone who peed in the corner of the bar last weekend, it can't really get worse.

But you know who else is out there?  The guy who is your biggest fan?  He's good friends with your favorite best ex-boyfriend.  And he really likes you.  Like REALLY likes you.  And he's a philosopher, he looks at things in the big picture.  Maybe it's time to date an intellectual, no?  And sure, he hasn't really dated much, he's focused more on studying, but why not take a risk?  Here's the kicker: your friends love him.  They will want to hang out with you again.  At the moment, you are sad.  And you are lonely.  And frankly you stink.  It's time for a change.  Take the risk.

Break up with Travis.  Date Doug.

It's time...

Football is over.  College football that is, so it's time we regroup and focus on what's really important: college basketball, the greatest sport known to man.  I make it no secret that my first love is college basketball.  As I watched OU and KU last week, I declared, "Anyone who doesn't think this is the greatest sport is stupid and I do not want to know them."  Also important to note, I'm very big on speaking in absolutes.  The end.

Anywhoozle...as you might recall, we are bringing another child into this world.  And as it goes, we are cleaning out the room that was used as the, "just put it in the backroom" room.  Did this three years ago, you'd think I would have learned.  Didn't.  So I found my Bible I used in junior high and high school and in it I found a list of qualities I wanted in my future husband.  I was 15 and attending a weekend retreat where we were learning about relationships and all that jazz.  We made lists of traits we wanted in a spouse and were supposed to use this as a guide.  I'm positive it was supposed to be deep and meaningful.  I, in typical Kathy fashion, took it in a different direction.  For example, #3 on the list: must weigh at least 10 pounds more than me.  Current Husband was all, "Are you serious?  That's was one of your requirements?"  And I'm like, "Uh, yeah.  I was 15.  And come to think of it, that's still pretty important to me."  Number four on the list: Must be a basketball fan.  You guys...before I listed kind, caring, or loving, I said "basketball fan."  Priorities.

So as you can imagine the current state of Oklahoma State basketball program is hitting me hard.  It's bad.  So, so bad.  And I can't even conjure up a cute and witty blog comparing Travis Ford to the new girlfriend and the like.  It doesn't matter.  This isn't working.  The new girlfriend isn't that fun, throws lame parties, and is starting to put on weight. The time is now.  We've got to break up.  Soon.

Let's take a looksie at why this season is setting up to be so bad:

1. No one is coming to the games.  Honestly, it's me, my family, Tiny Human who has GPS tracking on where Pistol Pete is at all times, and that is just about it.  Weirdly, people don't want to watch losing.  And neither do I.  But now I feel like I HAVE to go, because no one else is there.  It's like when you go to a party because you feel obligated, afraid the host will fall apart completely because no one showed up.  I just keep showing up, hoping the drinks will be strong enough to endure the party.  Side note: alcohol would probably help me make it through this season....but people tend to frown on women who are 45 years pregnant tailgating by themselves.  Because people are judgy and life's not fair.
2. The rest of the league is GOOD.  Like really good.  KU is doing KU things.  OU is really good.  And their best player isn't even hateable....which is SO annoying.  I can always count on Spangler though, his dumb face is easy to not like.  And West Virginia will compete all season.  As will Iowa State.  And Tech.  I mean, this is the best the league has been in years.  And guess who isn't good?  Le sigh.  
3. OSU is so undisciplined.  Tiny Human has yet to start organized sports, but it's coming.  And from what I have heard, little kids' sports are just organized chaos.    Running around, errant passes/kicks, no real strategy, just constant movement.  That's what we look like most of the time.  We start to panic and no one knows what to do.  It's maddening to watch.  One thing that Ford's teams have always had a problem with is discipline: on and off the court.  Stop fouling.  Stop smoking weed.  Follow your shot.  Be smarter.  

I will say that I think this team has better ball movement than I've ever seen.  I'm also not mature enough to write that sentence and not laugh. The passing is great.  The rebounding is better.  We finally have some depth in the post.  We have a great point guard.  But we just aren't good enough.  It's a sad state of affairs in the water that is still.

So, I think I'll spend this season analyzing where we need to go from here.  Who should replace Ford?  I have some ideas.  Stay tuned.

Bedlam is on Wednesday.  I don't think it will go well.  But you know, I believe in miracles.  Remember when Boise State beat OU?  No one thought that would happen.  But it made America feel good, am I right?  I'm totally right!  Or when Harry Truman defeated Dewey?  That was a fun upset too!

So in the immortal words of Harry S. Truman, "I never did give them hell.  I just told the truth and they thought it was hell."

Nope, that quote doesn't work at all.  Surprisingly, he wasn't that quotable of a president.  But I'm going to stick with it, because I'm no quitter.  I will go down with this sinking ship....metaphorically, of course.  It's much too cold to be in the ocean.    

Thanks y'all

Turkey Day is just a day away and you know what that means?  Kathy needs to stop complaining and whip up a little list of things she is thankful for.  So fill up that gravy boat and read along, won't you?

Meaningful conversations.  On the way to work today, Tiny Human and I had a conversation about Drake.  It started with her telling me she didn't like Macklemore.  Fair enough.  He's not for everyone.  She does, however, like Hotline Bling.  She asked some pretty hard-hitting questions about Drake like, "Does he have a beard?" "Does he want a beard?" and "Does he have hair?"  I appreciated her desire to really get to know the artist.

          

I'm sure you're wondering why I'm not listening to Kidz Bop in the car.  Because I can't, that's why.  I watch Dora and tolerate that stupid Map App and I watch Frozen and answer the same questions about why Elsa freezes stuff (emotional baggage) every single time.  I draw the line with the radio.  I need to hear music I like.  And you know what?  I'm not listening to Eazy E or Too Short, so I think I'm doing okay.  P.S.  I'm also thankful for Eazy E.

Inspiration in strange places.  I've recently been bitten by the inspiration bug.  No need to worry, it's a small bite that can be treated with essential oils (I don't know anything about essential oils, but from what facebook tells me, they cure everything).  I've been watching Orange is the New Black and had a epiphany. I'm sure you are wondering, why are you just now watching OITNB?  Because, people, I'm a laggard.  Please consult the chart.  I wait until something has been fully vetted by the general population, so I'm not stuck looking like a sucker.  Google Glass, anyone?  

Anyway, Crazy Eyes' writing inspired me to jump feet first into writing myself.  I probably won't write erotica like her, but you never know.  It's time to stop talking about how I want to be a writer, and just be a writer.  If she can do it, so can I!  Pay no attention to the fact that she's a character on TV, THAT'S NOT THE POINT.  I was also kind of inspired by a book I just finished.  It was really bad.  And if crap like that can get published and receive a good review, ergo tricking me into reading it, then what am I doing on the sidelines?  

I was also inspired by a random run in at Whole Foods.  As I stood inline to check out with two pies, two types of scones and cinnamon rolls, I noticed that Russell Westbrook's wife was in line in front  of me.  Looking at her made me feel bad about myself.  Thanks a lot, tall perfect-bodied former collegiate athlete.  And then I reminded myself, in a mere 12 weeks, I won't have to wear elastic and feel like a turtle caught on his back every time I lay down.  After Tiny Human #2 makes his arrival, I too can wear cute outfits and carry $3000 purses and be married to one of the greatest basketball players in the world.  

Football season is coming to an end.  Yes, you read that right, I'm thankful that college football season is coming to an end.  Bless it, this season has been a roller coaster.  This is an accurate description of how I've felt watching the Cowboys since August:

Holy lord, we are terrible ---> Well, at least we won ----> We will lose at least five games, maybe six. ---> How do we keep winning?  -----> I'm starting to think we have made a pact with the devil....I'm totally okay with that ----> Someone please tell me when it's safe to start breathing again. ---> Hey!  Maybe we are pretty good after all!  We just beat a top ranked team! ---->  Nope, spoke too soon.  We have flaws, but we keep winning, so that's something right? ---->  Frick!  OU looks really good.  Frick!  ----> Oh...It's all coming back to me.  Losing isn't fun at all.  At what point do I need to start accepting that a comeback isn't going to happen?  ----> Frick.  Bedlam has potential for making me have really bad feelings.

And that's where I'm at now.  I'm concerned.  I'm concerned that I'm going to wrap my fat stomach in twelve layers and brave the cold only to be kicked in the teeth by Baker "oh look at me, I used to be a walk-on but now I'm great and a good dancer" Mayfield.  Blast!  But I'm going to go.  And I'm going to hope that that pact with the devil has a Bedlam clause.  And if we do lose?  I will just pretend we didn't.  It's how I deal with bad things.  I choose to behave as if they didn't happen.  I Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind the hell out of painful losses.  Been doing it for years, and it's worked out just fine.

If you need me, just look for this girl.  Also, I'll probably need some help up.

         

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!  And Go Pokes!

Get Frank Underwood on the phone, the fix is in

How about a little Q & A session, a little "Get to Know this Blogger," a little multiple personality interview with myself?  Funsies for everyone, am I right?

Let's get started.

Q: You seem a little agitated, what's got you worked up?

A: Texas.

Q: The whole state?

A: No.  Just their dumb football fans.  Lord almighty, if I see any more complaints about the officiating of Saturday's game, I just might lose it.

Q: Care to expand?

A: I'd love to.  Thanks for asking.  They are all kinds of worked up because calls didn't go their way on Saturday.  And I'll be the first to admit, several were questionable, if not blatantly wrong.  But guess what?  That's not called a conspiracy or "a fix."  That's called sports. Bad calls are made in EVERY game.  It happens.  Shall I put together a highlight reel of all of the times OSU has been the victim of bad calls?  I would do that, but it would make me even more annoyed than I already am.

And I'm going to just dole out some hard-to-swallow news....when you are reduced to celebrating moral victories and blaming officials for losses, you are now the fan of a mediocre program.  I should know.  I'm an OSU fan.  So suck it up, will ya?

Q: Shall we move on?

A: Fine.  But for reals, I'm beyond annoyed by their outrage.  Dumb City, USA.  Population: Longhorn Nation.

Q: What about the teams you actually cheer for?  How have they fared so far?

A: Meh.  Somehow the Cowboys are undefeated.  I suffer from heart palpitations watching them play.  I find myself holding my breath for long periods of time, which in turn, makes me dizzy.  The ol' quarterback switcheroo game we played versus Texas seemed pretty dumb to me, but no one pays me to coach, so maybe it was genius and I'm just not at that level of understanding.

The Sundevils....well, sometimes they are hard to watch.  Do you remember those Faces of Death movies?  That's kind of what Saturday night felt like.  Like a punishment that I didn't deserve.  So... here's to hoping I've atoned for whatever horrible thing I've done in my former life and we can move on to happy football.  Husband is struggling too.  Seeing as the Sundevils play in the middle of the night because the desert is hot and everyone would spontaneously combust if they played when the sun was out, he can't even yell.  Because Tiny Human sleeps while ASU plays football.  Ergo silent rage.  On Saturday as we watched them turn the ball over on the goal line for a 96 yard return for a touchdown, he stood up and said, "I need to be by myself."  Hashtag sigh.  Hashtag pray for Husband.  Prayer hands emoji.

Q: Yikes.  Sounds pretty bad around your house.

A: Preach.

Q: Next topic.  Watch anything good on TV lately?

A: Well, I decided to join the new craze of Netflix.

Q: Seems like you might be a little late to the party.

A: I'm a laggard.  It's a marketing term.  Look it up.

Q: I'll get right on that.

A: Anywhoozle, I just finished watching all the House of Cards episodes.

Q: Oh yeah?  What did you think?

A: The show makes me feel extremely unsettled.  I've come to realize there isn't one character on the show I like.  They are all bad people.  All of them.  At first I was all, Frank Underwood, he's ruthless, but underneath he's a good guy.  Couldn't have been more wrong.  Oh, Doug Stamper?  Good guy.  Hard worker.  Nope.  Bad guy.  Hard worker.  Everyone is bad.  Everyone who has redeemable qualities dies.

Q: You know it's just a show right?

A: Is it?  Then explain John Boehner to me.

Q: Do you have anything happy to talk about?

A: I do.  My dog has stopped barfing on the carpet, so I'm pretty jazzed about that turn of events. The super blood moon did not disappoint.  And tonight I'm building a rocket ship with Tiny Human.

Q:  A rocket ship?

A: Yes.  We had a conversation about not wanting to go home, instead we were going to go to the moon.  I noted that that trip would require a rocket ship.  And so...we are building one tonight.  I assume this counts as STEM education.

Q:  I'm not quite sure that qualifies....

A: Honestly, no one asked you.

If you can't be an athlete, be an athletic supporter

I had a pretty hard time deciding which picture to use for this blog. I ultimately chose the picture that accurately portrayed my feelings last year during football season.  The picture below came in a close second.  Because I think it is so funny.

So, moving on to the important stuff....it's football season, party people!  And per my usual routine, I'm going to throw up some hopes and prayers and believe that universe will hear me. *prayer hands emoji*

1. No streaks.  Losing streaks that is.  Let's have a quick recap of how crappy that 5-game skid was last year.  It was honestly painful.  Side note, I'm trying very hard to not use the word "literally."  I'm at the point of murderous rage when I see people misuse literally.  I saw someone write the phrase, "my hands are literally tied" the other day. No, no they aren't.  Because you just typed that stupid sentence.  And you couldn't do that if your hands were tied.  But I digress.

So anyway, last season literally almost killed me.  So let's win more than we lose.  And let's pass the ball.  And get first downs.  Small things.  Go team!

2.   Offensive creativity.  Please see #1 on this list.  Um, the whole, running it up the middle for a gain  of 1.5 wasn't working last year.  It was poo.  You know what did work?  Fat guy touchdowns, ala James Castleman.  Trick plays.  Throwing it down the field.  More of that.

3. I ask every year, and every year no one answers, but I'd like an intro video that is awesome.  And not crappy.  Did I ever tell you guys that one of the best intros I've ever seen was a random UCONN pre-game video.  UCONN.  Did you even know they played football?  Unfortunately, I know that the best play of last year won't be shown.  The punt return that restored my faith in humankind is never to be talked about again due to bad decisions, arrests, and dismissals.  That's fine.  But let me tell you this, when I die and someone puts together a highlight video of my life, Tyreek Hill running that ball back will be included.  Childhood pictures, my wedding day, holding my sweet Tiny Human, The Punt.

So since we can't show that, I've got some ideas:

• Fat guy touchdowns.  Especially the one when Castleman slams into the defensive player and paint flies from his helmet.  
• Any scoring from last year.  It didn't happen a lot, so it should be celebrated.
• Remember when there was video of Dez Bryant racing a horse?  Throw that in for good measure too.

4. I want to win Bedlam again.  It's a simple wish.  It felt so good last year.  I carried the sports page around in my purse for two weeks following that game.  I want to feel that happy again.  Please and thank you.

5. Switching allegiances, I want this to be ASU's year.  It all sets up to be a special season.  Smokin' hot quarterback.  Favorable schedule. Veteran defensive squad.  Usually-wrong Kirk Herbstreit picked them to go to the playoff.  Maybe this will be the time he's not wrong.  Maybe?

Just win.  I want to see the Sundevils as the best in the west.

So it's pretty simple.  Easy, peasy, Japanesey.

Go Pokes!  Go Sundevils!  Go Fantasy Football Teams!

Letters: Basketball Edition

Dear Travis Ford,

How are ya pal?  You feel good?  Did you wake up this morning feeling like a winner?  Did you put a game plan together that's opposite of what you did the first two times we played OU this season?  Swell.  Let's go out and win one for ol' Kath tonight, alright?  I've had a rough go as of late.  I'm dealing with a bully on a pretty regular basis, someone stole my wooden Pistol Pete out of my front yard, and I STILL haven't won the lottery....I need you to win tonight.  It is a scientific fact that I am happier and my body reacts in a positive way to beating OU.  It's true.  I have a note from my doctor.  What does your body produce when you're happy?  Serotonin?  Melatonin? Whatever it is, it will come pouring out my ears if we can beat the Sooners.  So do it for my health.  Do it for America.

Go Pokes,

Kathy

---

Dear Ryan Spangler,

I don't like you.  You remind me of a guy who drives a monster truck, blares Skynard, and revs your engine when I'm next to you at a light.  And I bet that monster truck has glass packs, so you are super loud as you drive too fast through the neighborhood.  But it's not just that...it's the Euro-step I just can't stand.  Let me fill you in on something, you ain't Manu Ginobili.  That's called a travel.  I know so, because I yell it every time you do it.  Thank goodness you're a senior.  

What's that?  You're just a junior?  Frick.

That's a walk!

KHR

---

Dear Big XII Refs,

It's hard for us to win when the other team is in the bonus five minutes in.  So maybe you guys could do less tweet tweeting, and more "nothing to see here."  And in case you are having a hard time deciding, "Did LeBryan Nash get fouled in the paint?"  The answer is always yes.  Always.

XOXO,

Kath

Go Pokes!  Beat OU!

I love you, I mean it

Time is of the essence people, so let's just get to the good stuff.  I've missed you, I hope you're well, let's grab a drink soon to catch up.  Until then, here are a few love letters from me to the world and the things I love.

Dear OSU Basketball:

Smooches!  I love what you are doing right now.  That KU win...it was pretty darn great.  I know when I am yelling so loud and for so long that I get light-headed, things in the sports world are going well for me.  Thank you for playing hard and hustling for loose balls and showing that you want to win as much as I want you to win.  It's really all I've ever asked for.  And thank you to KU basketball fans for being so irrational. You give me a good giggle.  Relax just a little and stop being so bitter.  Yes, you are elite.  No, I don't care.  I only care how elite you are when my team beats your elite team.  You guys should stop and have a chat with OU football fans....you all have a lot in common.

Back to the Pokes, keep up the fight, guys.  And just a reminder, I never stopped coming.  I wasn't fair-weather.  I've been suffering along with you the last few years.  So you just let me know where you want me to stand on stage when we exceed expectations and win a Big XII title.  

Orange you glad you started rebounding?

Kathy

Dear Tiny Human,

Thanks for reminding me that girls rule and being a feminist starts young.  Yesterday when you asked, "What does the doctor do?" And I answered, "He makes you feel better," I was pleased, proud and a little embarrassed that you then pointed out, "The doctor is a girl!"  Of course she is!  Girls Power!

Sing it Sister!

Mommy

Dear Daycare,

Thanks for the reminder that everyone has to bring Valentines to school.  I didn't know that rule last year and logically thought, "they are one year old, why would they need Valentines?  They can't read, and only have two teeth each."  Much to my chagrin I was the only mom who didn't provide Valentines. One mom even brought them late because her kid was out sick on party day.  Color me embarrassed.  My bad, babies.  This year, you will be so happy to see my store-bought, extremely impersonal Valentines!  You are SO welcome.

Look, I'm raising a feminist if you didn't hear, so you guys just let me know what day during reading week I can guest read The Feminist Mystique.

Sorry I'm not good at making things,

Tiny Human's Mom

Dear ASU Baseball,

You kick off the season versus the Cowboys tonight.  I have a very fond spot in my heart for you.  I spent many an afternoon sweating out all the toxins watching you all play.  I heckled.  I cheered.  I was a proud Sun Devil baseball season ticket holder.  It feels weird to root against you.

But not so weird that I'm not going to do it.  Go Pokes, the road to Omaha starts tonight.

Fork 'em every game but these three,

KHR

Letters: we can't all be winners, can we?

It's time to open up the stationary kit and write a few letters.  Join along if you'd like.

Dear OSU Basketball team,

I see you.  I see what you are doing with your big home-court wins.  And I like it.  I like that when I choose to make that commute to come watch you play, knowing I'll get home late on a school night, you give a lot of effort.  Sure, you couldn't win a scrimmage against elderly people on the road, but I do appreciate you winning at home.  I also appreciate rebounding.  And following the shot.

Please don't lose to OU again.  

Orange hugs and kisses, 

Kathy
--

Dear Zombie Cat,

I think I'm supposed to be in awe of your story.  But really, I'm weirded out.  It's weird that you were dead and now you aren't.  One of my greatest fears in life is when nature attacks.  I saw the movie Pet Cemetery.  I didn't like it.  I don't trust your motives.

Keeping one eye open,

Kath
---
Dear Empire,

Thank you for being exactly what I thought you would be.  You are what has been missing in my life.  A hip-hop soap opera?  Yes, please!  The music is great.  And I've had a soft spot for Terrence Howard since Hustle & Flow.  You know you're a good actor when I have deep sympathy for a pimp.  Like they say, it's hard out here for a pimp.  Seriously, they said that, I'm not even paraphrasing.    I guess some people have been critical of this show, and those people are dumb and clearly do not have their finger on the pulse of hip hop culture like I do.

You do you,

K-Dogg
--

Dear Life,

Alright already.  Enough.  Some idiot somewhere once said, "you are only given what you can handle."  And that dumb advice is often given to people who are going through a really hard time.  And I guess, if that person hasn't completely lost it, this advice is kinda true.  For example, Zombie Cat seemed to be only given what he could handle.  And that included dying, but not really, being buried alive, and scratching and clawing his way out of the grave five days later.  But you know what they say, that which does not kill you only makes you stronger.  And since Zombie Cat did actually die, I think he is the strongest cat to ever exist.

Anyway, I'm about one more piece of bad news away from moving into a cardboard box and playing the drums on an empty bucket.  I need you, life, to take a sharp right turn and let's leave this doo doo behind.  Also, when I'm having a bad day, how about we refrain from sending possoms to run infront of my car.  Not cool, life.  Not cool at all.  I'm having a hard time reacting to things in a rational manner, so when the spawn of Satan scurried in my path last night, I yelled to the heavens, "Oh come on!  This is the last thing I need right now!'  I can only assume that possum had just emerged from the grave and was heading to my house.

Pull yourself together,

KHR

Throwing it back to the good ol' days...

On this Throwback Thursday, I'd like to throw it back to the days before kiss cam, or the Glory Days as I liked to call them.  Remember when scoreboards just had an animated man, who looked like a potato with arms, waving flags?  I liked those times, they were so much more simple.

There is something about where our basketball seats are located at the Oklahoma State games that has placed me directly in the cross-hairs of the kiss cam.  Every time T-Pain comes on, I know my mug is going to appear on the jumbotron.  I have appeared on the kiss cam five times.  And I'm sure you are thinking, "Five?  That's not that much."  Well, first of all if you think that, you're a jerk and you are not only wrong, you are clearly not picking up the gravity of the situation.

After four straight appearances within two weeks, I decided to take matters into my own hands.  I would instruct Husband to either A.) act like he didn't know me B.) stand up  or C). Go to the concession stand. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't love Husband.  But I don't like kissing on command. In public.  On a giant screen.  It makes me uncomfortable.  I also don't really like to hold hands.  It slows down my fast walking.

Anyway, from time to time when Husband can't make it to a game, I will sit by my brother and we both yell, "Rebound!" in unison and all is well.  So as you can imagine, the situation I was most concerned about was being caught with him on the kiss cam.  I remember one game in particular, I turned to him and said, "Please stop talking to me and go away."
Brother:  Ummm....why?
Kathy: Because I do not want to be on the kiss cam with you.
Brother: Fair enough.

We really had avoiding it down to an artform.  I made sure that one of us was either standing or not present during the first media timeout.  Until last night.  We let our guard down.  And you know what happens when you let your guard down?  You get stuck on kiss cam with your sibling.

I was busy checking twitter to see what people were saying about the game, so I didn't realize we were the main attraction until I heard my brother say, "Nope."  Then he stood up and ran away.  Yes, he ran right up the stairs as fast as he could move. I've never been more proud.

As he moved with cheetah-like speed up the stairs, the camera followed him the entire way.  The crowd got a good laugh out of it.  And then some began to boo.  Yes, this is how I spent my family time on Wednesday night, listening to the crowd boo my brother because he wouldn't mouth kiss me.  This is the world I live in.

As far as a quick game analysis, I felt pretty good about last night's performance.  Mainly because we won.  Tech is terrible, so that should build anyone's confidence.  Had productive minutes from guys other than the main two, shot better, blah, blah, blah.   I still believe Anthony Allen is the key.  If he can contribute quality minutes where he is pulling down boards and, I don't know, making 2-3 shots a game, it will make a tremendous difference.  I think he has so much potential but doesn't really seem to know what he's doing.  Which is basically how I feel every day I get out of bed.  I think that's why I like him....and his dreadlocks.

Catching up

Let's be honest, I've started this blog about eight different times in the last two weeks and for one reason or another I don't finish.  Whatever the opposite of "focused" is, that's me these days.  Scattered? Schizo? Lacking direction?  D. All of the above.  So for the sake of fun, I'll take you through the last few weeks and highlights.  And then starting next week, maybe I'll manage to put thoughts together in a reasonable manner. Deal?  Deal.

1. I'll have what Russell's having.  I have found myself eating at the same establishment as Russell Westbrook twice in the last six months. By proxy, I'm pretty sure this means I'm awesome.  I'm hip and cool and with it.  I've yet to work up the courage to speak to him, mainly because I've heard he's not that nice.  Forty four years ago I ran into Marky Mark in Vegas and asked for a picture.  He said, "I don't really think so."  To which I responded, "You don't think so?  Seriously?  That's your response?"  As you can see, I've yet to get over being scorned by someone much more famous than myself.  Later that night I met Michael Irvin.  Way nicer.  Which is why I watch NFL Countdown and not Wahlburgers.  I will never forget.
2. Bedlam baby.  Every time I think I'm ready to analyze this OSU basketball team, they throw another wrinkle in.  Saturday is Bedlam round 1.  I refuse to fall for the, "OU is struggling to find an identity and is regressing" story line.  Because every time I do, every single time, they come out and beat the pants off of us.  Harlem Globetrotter style.  It's infuriating.  So I'm setting the bar low.  Just split Bedlam.  Round 2 is on my birthday, and I've checked the rules of the universe, and they say my team can't lose on my birthday.  So that makes me feel better.
3. Graphene for $400, Alex.  I read an article about graphene a few weeks ago.  It is a pure carbon that is only one atom thick, It's faster, stronger, and cheaper.  Like Kanye.  It could revolutionize the semi conductor world.  Anyway, after I read the article, my thought process went something like this: I feel smarter!....I'm going to go to bed smarter than I started the day...I wonder if I'll ever be able to bring graphene up in a conversation...I am still not as smart as Dr. Sports (my freakishly smart friend)...why is she so much smarter than me?....how does she know all the things she knows?....If I read an article a day, and she never learns any new information, I will be caught up to her in two years....maybe I should work on being less competitive....yeah, like that is going to happen...I bet Dr. Sports doesn't know anything about graphene....Who am I kidding? She's a scientist.  She probably discovered it.
4. That's not proper English!  Tiny Human has taken to responding to things she doesn't like by saying, "No, I didn't."  Need an example? "Can you please eat your green beans?"  "No, I didn't!"  "We need to change your diaper."  "No I didn't!"  Two days ago, she switched it up by saying, "No, I sure didn't!"  I don't know what is more frustrating: her defiance or blatant disregard for proper grammar.
5. When will you be satisfied?  I had the pleasure of hearing a high school senior recite Martin Luther King Jr.'s I Have a Dream speech yesterday.  He did it completely from memory and it was wonderful.  It brought me to tears.  Because I'm ridiculous and I love equality.  While everyone focuses on the "I have a dream," part of the speech, the part that spoke to me was, "There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, when will you be satisfied?  We can never be satisfied..."  As God as my witness, I had to refrain from yelling out, "Yes!  Never!"  Like I said, I'm ridiculous.

So that's the Kath report.  Sorry I've been incommunicado...being patient with me, I'm a work in progress.

Letters: SEC, short pants, and dumb, smug faces

Dear SEC,

Haha suckers!  Maybe now we can move past being beat to death with the message that the SEC is the most dominant conference in the history of all of sports.  You're like the show Heroes.  At one point, you were the very best, nothing else could compare.  But then you ran out of ideas and got stale, and we're all moving on.  Save the cheerleader, save the world?  Sorry, the cheerleader is dead.  Urban Meyer killed her.

Sorry 'boutcha,

Kathy

---

Dear Man I Walked Behind Today,

Your pants, they were such a strange length. I was intrigued.  They stopped right before the top of your combat boots.  Do people even call them combat boots any more?  Is that 1992 calling in the background?  Asking for their terminology back?  Anyway, I think they had to be that length on purpose.  Right?  They were kind of like capris, but not.  Because they were on a man.  They were like sensible mom pants for men.  They were truly high-waters.  I mean, if you were to get caught in high water, you'd be fine.  Maybe you are a trend-setter, I'll never know.  I thought about following you around for the rest of the day to figure out your story, but I opted not to.  Because that would make me crazy.

Thanks for the mystery,

Kath

---

Dear Morris Twins,

As Husband and I watched the Suns vs. Thunder game the other night I felt compelled to announce I could never cheer for the Suns because of you two.  Because I don't like you.  Didn't like you when you were at KU, don't like you now.  And it's because of your faces.  You have Jay Cutler face.  And I don't like it.  It's the equivalent of BRF, except I refer to it as EPF, extreme punchable face. Other sufferers include: Pete Carroll, Urban Meyer, and JJ Redick.  And if we are being honest and open here, Le'Bryan Nash has EPF too.  Big time.  But I have to cheer for him, because he's a Cowboy.  But there are times I just want to yell, "That face!  I can't look at that face for one more minute!"

Wipe those faces off your heads,

KHR

---

Dear Cowboys,

This is a joint letter to both the football and basketball team.  Let's do our best to pull out some victories, okay?  Okay.  For the football team, I hope that Shippensburg spent the last month coming up with more options than the long bomb down the field versus running it up the middle for a gain of two.  Earn that paycheck, big boy!  And to the basketball team, two teeny little things: make your frickin' free throws and for the love of everything holy, if you are up three at the end of the game, FOUL.  How many, "I can't believe he made that improbable three!" moments must I suffer through?

Good luck and Go Pokes!

K

Bedlam #blessed

The number of happy feelings I have regarding Bedlam cannot be adequately expressed in words.  Possibly ever.  But because I'm a fighter, I'm going to try.

I'm wearing orange today.  I'll probably wear orange tomorrow too.  Might just wear it for the rest of the month.  I own enough orange items that I could probably dress in orange 45 straight days without repeating an outfit.  Oh a cold snap is on the way?  No problem, I have three orange coats.  Unseasonably warm temperatures ahead?  Great.  I've got an orange tank top for just the occasion.

My four foot tall Pistol Pete who goes in the yard on game days?  He's still out there.  Might just leave him there forever.

The Sunday sports section?  I've been carrying that around with me for two days.

I'm a happy Poke.

Watching the game with a two year old proved to be a challenge.  All was well until we scored our second touchdown of the game.  A 39-yard pass that led to me yelling...loudly.  Tiny Human was stunned.  She started to whimper, then cry, then gasp for air.  Alright, alright.  Where does this kid get such a flair for the dramatic?  After we explained that mommy was excited not mad, she pulled herself together.

At one point, OU's mascot was shown on the screen.

Tiny Human: What's that?
Kathy: That's their mascot.  The horse pig.  We hate him.
*gets the side-eye glance from Husband*
Kathy: I'm sorry, it just slipped out.
Husband: It's fine.  She has to learn eventually.

The game was moving along, there were bright moments, and some bad ones.  I was coming to grips with us losing.  It would be fine.  I was mentally prepared for this.  I have been a Cowboy fan long enough, this is not a new feeling.

And then the fourth quarter happened.   We were scoring.  We were making a comeback.  We were overcoming mistakes.  We don't do these type of things.  We never storm back.  And OU doesn't lose games like this.  And they certainly don't lose AT HOME.  And for the love of everything holy, they don't lose to OSU.  As Ben Stiller says, "No one makes me bleed my own blood!"

I didn't know this feeling.  It was a mixture of a rapid heart beat and nausea.  I was stunned into silence, until I started yelling.  Sometimes they were real words, sometimes just sounds.  Tiny Human repeatedly said, "Mommy!  Stop shouting!"  "Mommy!  You aren't supposed to yell!"  My only response was, "I have to!"  Following the touchdown that brought us to within one score and being scolded once again by my toddler, I turned to Husband and said, "You are going to need to take her to another room, because she's trying to tell me how to be a fan....AND I CAN'T HANDLE THAT RIGHT NOW!" As you can see, this is the point of the night that rationality left.

And then the punt return happened.  And I yelled louder than I ever have, while jumping up and down approximately four inches from the TV.  The only time I remember yelling even close to that loudly was during OSU vs. KU basketball games.  But in those situations, I'm surrounded by other yellers.  Saturday night, it was just me.  The lone wolf....who made her child cry TWICE during the game.

As I paced around the living room repeating to no one in particular, "I can't believe this is happening," Husband comforted our traumatized kid.  It wasn't my finest parenting moment.  When she seeks out therapy to talk about mommy's sports rage, this will be the jumping off point. *shrugs*

I have enjoyed the aftermath almost as much as the game.  I haven't had to walk anywhere, I just float.  It took me 11 solid months to get over last year's Bedlam loss.  The anger and bitterness was high, friends.  So it's nice to watch that happen to the opposing fan base.

#blessed

Good vs. Bad

It's Bedlam week y'all.  Good guys versus bad guys.  America's most beautiful shade of orange versus the color of a flesh wound.  Some might even say little brother versus big brother....but let me tell ya, ain't no way I'm ever considering a Sooner as part of my family.  You're lucky I even consider you friends (I kid, the four of you I like, know who you are).

I have to say, I'm pretty confident about this year's match up.  I feel good.  Great coaching with leadership and passion.  Toughness.  Pride in the program.  Dieringer.  Kindig.  Collica.  Oh, what's that?  You thought I was talking about football?  No, you silly head.  I'm talking about Bedlam wrestling.   Sunday.  Gallagher Iba Arena.  Mark it down, Pokes win big.

I hear there is a football match being played on Saturday too.  Let's look at what we know about that:

1. Trevor Knight is out again.  That sets up for stupid Blake Bell to be brought in during the fourth quarter to somehow come in and single-handily beat us. Again.  I believe Blake Bell to be my least favorite Sooner of all time.  He made my baby cry!  Okay, technically, that's not what happened.  But in 2012 as I watched all 9 feet 4 inches of him rumble into the endzone, I screamed, "*curse word* STOP HIM!"  And my 3 month old burst into tears.  And I thought to myself, "Cool story.  I'm a bad mom.  I'm pissed.  And OU just won.  Life is dumb."
2. Gundy won't answer any questions.  I'm not confident he's even working on plays.  It's possible he may not even show up on Saturday.  And I'm not sure that it would make much of a difference.  Somebody's got a case of the big-times.  Well, here's the deal, Gundy...don't big-time me.  Kathy doesn't have any tolerance for that.  Show a little passion, stop acting so annoyed with having to answer questions.  That is actually one of your job requirements.  So is coaching your team to win, but those are just semantics.  Also, you only get to act like Belichick if you win like Belichick.  So turn that frown upside down, pal.  Go team!
3. Apparently, OU has a player who runs a lot.  Approximately a quarter mile (thanks Google!) per game.  Super.  That sounds like it will be a fun thing to watch.  If the Sooners had any class at all, they'd let him rest his weary legs after his record-breaking performance.  But the good news?  The game should go quickly.

Now, as you are aware, I've been called irrational.  I've also been called Kathy twice this week, so everything seems to be business as usual.  But with all of this negativity that surrounds my thoughts, I do actually have a little hope.  We've got a new quarterback (maybe), and I believe that little red-nosed reindeer may be the spark we need.  To win this game, we're gonna need trickeration, luck, forced turnovers, God on our side, and a possible sporadic weather phenomenon.  But as they say at Ripley's, nothing is impossible!  Or maybe they say, believe it or not.  What's the difference?

So to Mason Rudolph, I say to you: Guide the sleigh, young man.  Guide the damn sleigh!

And as always...Go Pokes!

Irrational Kath

After watching my beloved Cowboys sputter through the first half of football with no creativity, no adjustments and no visible desire to punch the Longhorns in the mouth, I tweeted the following:

Gundy and Yurcich owe me a personal apology.  And a refund.

Who was to know that that tweet would lead to me not only being called out by a well-known OSU blogger, but also have an entire blog post dedicated to me.  I'm humbled by the attention.  My tweet was referred to "as irrational as it gets" for an OSU fan.  Wow!  Really?  I wasn't even aiming to be the top in the category, but you know sometimes you can't deny success.

See, I would consider the following more irrational:
1. Threatening players or coaches, as has been known to happen with other fan bases.
2. Call for Gundy's firing.
3. Burn my house down in anger of this season.
4. Burn your house down in anger of this season.
5. Stop attending games (which was suggested).
6. Speak in post-game press conferences about not being worried and focusing on the future.

I have to admit, I was a little surprised that this young man lacked the ability to see that I was not serious.  You know those children who are born without the ability to feel pain?  I fear maybe he was born without the ability to sense sarcasm.  And if that is the case, as Jay Z says, I feel bad for you son.

I suppose I must take this opportunity to point out that I didn't actually expect an apology and/or a refund.  First, we moved this spring and I never got around to sending out, "We've Moved!" cards, so there is a good chance he wouldn't even be able to locate me.  Second, seeing as Gundy has refused to acknowledge what a dumpster fire this season has turned into, I highly doubt my request would be acknowledged.

See, my comments stem from our fearless leader saying he was focusing on the future.  As the wise blogger pointed out, if you went to see a movie and didn't enjoy it, would you ask for a refund from the producers?  Well, to be perfectly honest, I had no idea this was an option.  Is this on the table?  Because I went to see Fear.com in 2002, and I'm still mad about it.  Had I known that I could contact the director/producer, I might have done this.

Let's just go with his example though.  Let's say I went to my favorite restaurant and ordered chicken parm.  And what was delivered to me was a piece of chicken that was still frozen in the middle with bread crumbs thrown on at the last minute, surely I would protest.  And the waiter might say, "Yeah, the outside parts of the chicken are cooked and we're really excited about what's on the menu for Friday.  It's gonna be great."  And I'd probably respond, "But I didn't pay for Friday night's dinner, I'd like for tonight's product to be edible."  And the watier would be all, "Yeah, the head chef, he's new.  But he used to make grilled cheese at his apartment and it was amazing, so he's the right man for the job."  And I'd be all, "That's a convicining resume.  Why don't you go ahead and apply my bill to Friday, I'll come back for that."  And then we'd high five and everything would be solved.

Really, what I was looking for was an apology ala Tim Tebow in 2008 following Florida's loss to Ole Miss.  Or even something close to what Eddie Sutton used to do.  On more than one occassion, the first thing out of his mouth was an apology to the fans, because "they deserve better."

I'm disgruntled.  And it's my right as a fan to be that way.  And it's my right as a Kathy, to be sarcastic about it.  You don't have to agree with me, that's cool.  But don't troll me, bro.  It's bad form.

Stop it

I mean, whatever.  Football is stupid and I hate sports.  Bring on basketball season.  Oh, what's that?  Phil Forte is in a walking boot?  Yes, I did see that on Friday night.  It made me super happy and excited.  I also had the same feelings when I saw the preseason college basketball poll. Stupid Kansas is just going to keep being great and stupid OU is ranked #15.  Good for them for hiring a sound coach who's likable.  That doesn't bother me, AT ALL.

Oh and I don't know if you guys have heard, but my fantasy football team is currently down 112 points.  Gonna need a real big night out of Dez Bryant.  Like, he's gonna need to throw the ball to himself and then run for 90 yards for a touchdown. I'm then going to need him to kick the ensuing extra point.  Then he's gonna need to take a quick Gatorade break, hop back out there on defense and sack whoever is quarterbacking for Washington these days seven or eight times, each time causing a fumble and picking that bad boy up and returning it for a touchdown. Don't forget about the extra points!  And if he could do that five or six times, I'm back in the game.

As my "friend" who is shamelessly beating me continued to rack up points, he started to text me.  Letting me know how great his team is and how pathetic mine is.  My only response was to tell him he had the wrong number.  Each time, I would reply, "I'm sorry.  I don't know who this is.  You have the wrong number."  It was my hope, that just for a second, he thought maybe he did have the wrong number.  I see your immaturity, and I raise you a denial.

Speaking of denial, let's get to the real meat and potatoes of this blog....OSU football.  Raise your hand if you are ready for the season to be over.  If your hand isn't raised, it's because you live in Mississippi or are a masochist.    I saw that Gundy said he understood the fans' frustration, but he's looking at the big picture. And by "big picture," I assume you mean 2015?  So we should all collectively quit together?  Super.  How about this....how about you apologize to the fans who show up and watch that bad product?  How about you donate the rest of this season's salary to a worthy cause?  Or maybe four different worthy causes for every game you are focused more on the big picture rather than getting our skulls bashed in in the present.  It doesn't even appear that anyone is trying.  Tyreek Hill may still be trying, but it's hard to know since he is hardly used.

I made the mistake of reading internet comments after the game.  Lots of people proudly shouting, "Win or lose, I still love the Cowboys!"  "Don't be a bandwagon fan, support them no matter what!"  Whatever, people.  What.  Ever.  The way I see it, watching this team is like watching my kid poop on the floor.  It's gross.  And I don't enjoy it.  Will I still love her if she poops on the floor?  Of  course I will.  Do I have to accept it?  No I do not.  It's my right as a fan, to expect men who are making hundreds of thousands of dollars to do their jobs better.  It doesn't make me a bad fan, it makes me someone with high expectations.

So Mike Yurcich....stop pooping on the floor.

Letters: Mining for Caramel on Homecoming Weekend

So many topics to cover today, kids.  Let's hop on the good foot and do the bad thing.

Dear Sports Illustrated,

Nanny nanny boo boo, you big jerks.  I felt happy earlier this week when it was announced that every single part of the five-part expose you published last year was false.  I felt happy, and then I felt annoyed.  Why weren't you commenting? Where was the exhaustive coverage?  This was a big-time story when you thought we were Scrooge McDucking it and swimming in gold coins.  Remember when you couldn't believe kids were drinking bleach to pass drug tests (I couldn't believe that either)?  Where is the vindication?  Where's the, "Oopsie whoopsie, looks like we might have been wrong?"  I try hard not to troll the internet.  Try being the key word.  But you really put me to the test SI.  I limited myself to one snippy tweet and moved on.  Because the thought of Thayer Evans' crunchy hair hitting the pillow and him thinking, "My God, I'm as big of an idiot as they say," made me feel at peace.

A plague on both your houses, 

Kathy
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Dear Homecoming Festivities,

I'm so happy you are here.  I love Homecoming.  I know you are the best homecoming in the world.  It's a scientific fact, I even asked a scientist.  Just kidding, the only scientist friend I have is an OU fan, so she can't be trusted.  I'm excited to go to walkaround tonight and see all the chicken wire and tissue paper.  I can't wait to get lots of dirty looks from people who hate strollers and babies.  I used to be one of those people, so it's super fun that life has come full circle.  When I told Tiny Human that we were going to a parade, she shouted, "Birthday cake!"  And let me just say, I'm stoked for this new addition to the homecoming traditions.  I love cake.  

Forever Orange,

Kath
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Dear Fall,

I'd like to make a formal request that we change the flavor of fall from pumpkin spice to salted caramel.  It tastes better.  And it is more inclusive for those of us who don't like vegetables.  I can say unequivocally, that I would eat trash if it was salted caramel flavored.  Should I forward this letter on to the Governor?  Michelle Obama?  Who handles things like this?

Yum yum, give me some,

K-Dogg
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Dear New Yorker Magazine,

I have to say, you've outdone yourself with your article about the Chilean miners in the July 7th issue.  I'm sure you are wondering why I'm so far behind in my reading.  This is directly tied to the fact that all of your articles are 700 pages long and it takes me a while.  Deal.  Anywho, this is by far the best article I've ever read.  What a story of perseverance.  I truly believe that every person should read this. It's phenomenal.  As I was reading it at the gym, with tears in my eyes, so moved by the men in the story, it took all of my strength not to turn to the guy who grunts and clanks the weights together and yell, "This is so f-ing inspirational!"  I've never read anything that makes me want to high five everyone more than this did.

Bravo!

K
-------

Dear Football Team,

Score touchdowns. Win. 

Smooches,

KHR

All the feelings

Today's blog is inspired by the Tiny Human, who managed to show ALL of the feelings this weekend.  Every single one.  No stone unturned.  If she were an actress, and I'm not so sure she's not, this would have easily been considered her greatest performance to date.  Bravo!  A curtain call, indeed.

So let's go through the litany of feelings I've experienced since Saturday.

Happy.

Tiny Human often sings a song from daycare that goes something like this, "Hot dogs today!  Hot dogs today!  We are so happy, hot dogs today!"  And she genuinely seems really happy.  Clapping.  Talking about whatever food is on the menu.  I felt the same happy feels watching OU lose.  My heart felt full.  And you can tell me that type of behavior is petty. Well you can just call me Bryce, cause it felt good.  I especially liked how silent the crowd was.

All of the bad feelings.

I then knew I had approximately 20 minutes before I would no longer be happy.  OSU "played" TCU on Saturday afternoon.  I use quotes because while yes, technically, we were on the field, I don't really think the same amount of effort was being put forth from both teams.  Follow this graphic (that I made all by myself!) as a chart of how my mood changed throughout the game.

I don't claim to be an offensive coordinator.  I actually have no experience in it at all.  But two plays doesn't seem to be getting the job done.  This ain't Tecmo Bowl, son.  Let's get creative.  If you are getting paid per touchdown produced, you are literally stealing money.

For the most part, I feel frustrated with the state of OSU football.  I feel like we are reverting to our old selves.  Like someone who got gastric bypass 5 years ago...the weight is slowly coming back on.  Can't someone slap that doughnut out of our hands?

Happy Again.

The Sundevils won again.  You probably missed that news because they like to play football in the middle of the night.  And that makes me feel tired.  But mainly I was happy, because their handsome quarterback led them to victory against the smarty pants Stanford trees.  Hooray!  It's nice to have a winner to cheer for.

All of the good feels.

Watching Peyton Manning break the touchdown record on Sunday night got me right in the feels.  He's so great.  I tweeted about him being the best.  Hashtag: thebest.  And I lost a follower.  That made me feel confused. Who doesn't like Peyton Manning?  Terrorist.

Then I got sad feelings because they pulled him from the game.  And I have him on my fantasy team.  And I'm playing Husband this week.  And I need all of the points.  Dumb Brock Osweiler brings nothing to the table for me.  I booed.  That made Husband feel disappointed in me.  And frankly, I don't care.

The Opposite of Surprised.

I found out that two OSU players were arrested for falling asleep in their car while waiting in the Whataburger drive through.  Whatever the opposite of stunned/surprised is, that's what I felt.  First of all, drinking till your sleepy is the appropriate way to react to getting so badly whipped.  Second, the line at Whataburger is so long.  I'm guessing they ordered the delicious chicken fingers.  Those suckers take like 15 minutes.  Hashtag: notworthit.

Optimistic.

I feel hopeful that we will beat West Virginia this weekend.   I also feel hopeful that I will win the lottery and become besties for the resties with Kevin Durant.

Remember when

Remember when I used to write blogs on a regular basis?  Those were the days.  Let's jump back into it and dedicate the rest of October to things that smell or taste like pumpkin and Kathy writing on a more consistent basis.  Pumpkin spice room spray for everyone!  (I actually made that purchase yesterday.  Fall is about to go down in our house).

So, let's take a moment to reflect back on things I might have been right or wrong about in regards to college football...

Remember when I said the state of Mississippi was only valuable for their mudpies?  It appears I might have been wrong.  Which is super annoying.  Or as the Mississippians say, daggum 'noying.  I actually have no idea how people from Mississippi talk.  I met Dan Mullen years ago, but he's not actually from there, so I have no frame of reference.  So, let me take this moment to apologize to all the people in the Magnolia State for doubting your football teams.  *shrugs* I didn't know what I was talking about.  Also, let me take this opportunity that warn you, that when an idiot with stupid hair shows up asking questions and holding his phone out, that is Thayer Evans and he wants to know how you pulled a Drake.  Do I need to explain that?  Drake started from the bottom, now he's here.  Actually he started at Degrassi Community School, which is basically the bottom.

Whatever.  Hail State.

Remember when I said that I was tired of hearing that Texas was back?  That's because they're not.  Nope.  They literally outplayed OU in every aspect of the game, minus penalties and the genius decision to kick off to Alex Ross, and still lost.  I don't have the stats in front of me, but it was something to the effect of Texas 799 yards offense, Oklahoma 12.  AND THEY STILL LOST.  That's incredible.  Actually, when you think about it, it's impressive.

Let's all just address the burnt orange elephant in the room...the Longhorn Network was a deal with the devil.  You signed over your soul, and you must suffer for the rest of eternity.  *shrugs again* It didn't have to be this way.

All of that being said, they will probably beat my Cowboys.  Leading me to my last reflection of the day...

Remember when I said I had great trepidation about this season.  It seems as though those fears had merit.  Let me refresh your memory:

Kathy was all: I don't think we are going to be very good.  I bet we lose 7 games.
Everyone else was all: You're a bad fan!  Go Pokes!  Ride 'Em Cowboys!  Tyreek Hill is super fast.
And Kathy was all: Ummm, okay.  But seriously, our Offensive Coordinator is from Shippensburg State.  AND THAT'S NOT A REAL STATE!
And everyone else was all: It's Shippensburg University, not State.  You don't know anything.
And Kathy's all: Whatever.  I'm pretty sure they play 8-man football.

And then the Florida State game happened, and I had a renewed sense of faith. And then our quarterback got his leg amputated (no one knows what really happened, because our program is clouded in mystery).  And we have seemed to regress with each game since.  I read a Dean Koontz book like this once, and if we continue to follow this pattern, we will be maniacal lizards at the end of this season.  And that's not good.

I have more questions than answers with this team.  But these are the things I know: the chrome helmets are awesome and Tyreek Hill is in fact crazy fast.  Things that appear to be so: our offensive line doesn't seem to be getting any better and the offensive playbook doesn't seem to be expanding.  If you throw all those things into a crazy math machine, it spits out: it's gonna be a long two months.

I hope I'm wrong.  And if I am, I'll gladly eat crow...pumpkin-spiced of course.  With a side of Mississippi mudpie.

It's All About Commitment

The word for today is commitment.  Actually, I have several random observations to make, and I needed a way to tie it all together.  I'm committed to finding a common link.

So let's take a look at a few recent goings on that I have witnessed that really express commitment as I see it.

Commitment to Self.  Saw a guy driving on his hog recently and his head was tattooed.  Flames on either side of his head.  Like horns, but not. Bet his friends call him "Ol' Fire Head." I mean, when you make that decision, to tattoo your head, you're really committing.  I've also encountered another man several days in a row in the stairwell of the parking garage.  I can't be sure, but it seems as if he might be living there.  What I can be sure of is that he is committed to smoking.  A lot.  Like possibly two packs at once.  I know this because he's always burning a heater when I pass him at 7:30 a.m. and there are approximately 74 cigarette butts surrounding him, which if I did my math right, is more than two packs.  Anyway, as the hip hop artists like to say, "you be you."

Commitment to Beauty.   This of course was witnessed last night when I laid my eyes upon the

most beautiful football helmet ever to be worn at the Oklahoma State game.  Chrome.  Giant Pistol Pete.  Shininess.  Pure beauty.  All of my thumbs are up.  Well done.  You know who doesn't have a commitment to beauty?  Arizona State.  Fire helmets are a bad look.  A very bad look.  It's like a cross between melted butter and one of those tiger-eye marbles (nice reference, Kathy.  You clearly just celebrated your 80th birthday).  Who has ever said, "You know what would be awesome?  If we made it look like our heads were engulfed in flames."  No one said that, unless they were under the influence of bath salts.  Cut 'em lose and set 'em free, Sundevils.  They are ugly and they are bad luck.  I'm convinced they are the reason you lost last night.  That and the complete and total lack of defense.

Commitment to Your Job.  The officials in the OSU vs. Texas Tech game were committed.  Come hell or high water, they were going to throw those little yellow flags.  What's that?  The defender tripped over his own feet?  FLAG.  The defender tackled the ball carrier?  FLAG.  The opposing coach is seducing me with his bedroom eyes?  FLAG.   In total, there were 26 flags thrown.  That works out to 2.3 per minute of play.  I was asked by a friend what the record for most flags thrown in a game is, and Husband swooped in and answered for me.  He has a commitment to interrupting and story-stealing.  He says 36 is the record.  He didn't cite his source, so who knows.  I can't find it through different searches, so I give up.  Let's just say 26.  The record was set last night.  The end.  Well done, zebras!

Commitment to Under Performing.  This would be both of my fantasy football teams.  Through three weeks of play in two leagues, I have managed to compile one win.  That means I'm currently sitting at a 16% winning percentage.  I'm the Idaho of fantasy football.  Magic 8 ball says outlook is cloudy for this week too...because I started stupid Kirk Cousins.  Cool story, bro.  Four interceptions.  That, my friend, is a commitment to pissing me off.

I'll dive more into the enigma that is Cowboy football early next week.  Right now, I'm committing myself to sleep, wine, and finding inner peace with the suckdom that is my fantasy football season.   You're either in or you're out. And I'm totally in.

Letters: Two X's and such

Dear Daxx Garman,

I see you.  With your two X's.  I assume they stand for your arm being two times stronger than Walsh's.  Too soon?  I never wish for injury, unless it's the opposing team, so I was sad to see Walsh go down.  I feel bad for him.  It's been a rough go.  But moving on... I'm in on team Daxx.  I don't know why there are two X's in your name, and frankly I don't care as long as you keep slinging the ball down the field.

Just win baby,

Kathy

Dear Guy at the Gym,

I know you are working hard on getting swole.  Your tight tank top and determined look told me so.  But the panting and the grunting... it's too much.  It takes every bit of self control for me not to turn around and tell you that I think you might be overexerting yourself.  Take it down a notch or seven.  Maybe you don't have to rep it out.  As to the other guy who eats peanut butter sandwiches in the corner, I don't understand you, but that's okay.  You just keep up your committment to protein during your workout.

Shhhhhh,

Kath

Dear Brandon Pettigrew,

You know that ol' Chinese Proverb, if you love someone let them go?  Possibly not Chinese and probably not about Fantasy Football, but I think it applies to us.  After drafting you in at least one league every year since your rookie debut, I had to set you free.  Fly little dove, fly.  I want to take this opportunity to congratulate you on your breakout season, because I know that is what will happen.  You're welcome, Lions fans.  I did this for you.

May your rock hands tranform to huge sticky mits,

KHR