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!

Sports Shorts

I bet you thought I wouldn't write about sports for a while, because none of MY teams are playing at the moment.  And what does Kathy actually know about sports in general?  You doubted me, and that is fair.  Wrong, but fair.

I like to keep my sports knowledge at just a high enough level that I come across smarter than I actually am.  This is actually my entire philosophy in life.  Buzz words.  Jargon.  Fake it till you make it.

I apply this philosophy to sports like golf.  I'm a fringe golf fan.  And by fringe, I mean, I don't really follow it.  I enjoy watching it live, ala the Phoenix Open.  But that was more about people watching and heckling.  Sidenote: I love to heckle.  In all honesty, I cheer for a select few on the PGA tour: guys who played at OSU and Bubba Watson.  And that's about it.

As you might of heard, the highly reliable publication Sports Illustrated released an anonymous poll last week of the most overrated players on the tour, as voted on by the players themselves.  And Rickie Fowler found himself atop the results.  Hunter Mahan garnered quite a few votes himself.  Obviously, none of the voters have seen the Golf Boys video.  Or maybe they had and had sad feelings that they weren't part of the club.  Or maybe they didn't really poll players, they just polled Thayer Evans and he voted for OSU guys...it's hard to know the rationale, really.

So Rickie Orange Pants punched back and won in very impressive style at the Players Championship.  A tip of the flat bill to you, my friend (we're not friends, I totally wish we were though).  Take that, ya anonymous jerks.   Maybe next time when asked to participate in a catty popularity poll, you'll think twice.  Don't pick on my Pokes, Pistol Pete might just shoot you.  (This blog does not condone gun violence.  Hug more, shoot less).

It's also important to note that his smokin' hot girlfriend who had Twitter all abuzz is a Sundevil. Like me.  And by pointing that out, I just pulled a total Vanderbilt.  You know how all the SEC schools like to talk about how the SEC is so dominant, and you're all, "But you're Vanderbilt.  You aren't really good at anything.  You're the Northwestern of the SEC.  You're only here for your brains."  I'm kind of like that with ASU.  They have quite the reputation for attractive students.  And sure, I went there for my graduate degree, and was a member of  the graduate and professional students association, BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT.  I earned my degree just like all of those freakishly good looking people did, ergo we are the same.  Rickie Fowler's girlfriend and Kathy: Sundevils.

A few other sports-related items for your reading pleasure:

.......kudos to the NBA for going all March Madness on us.  I'm an so down for buzzer beaters.  If you guys start storming the court, I'm totally in.........I watched the 30 for 30  on the Detroit Pistons last week.  I made the decision while watching that Bill Laimbeer may be my most favorite NBA player of all time.  I'm pretty sure he represents every thing I believe.  Let's face it, sometimes you just have to throw a hard elbow to the face to get your point across (It is becoming more unclear if I might actually condone violence after all)..........I signed up to take the Sports Jeopardy test next week. I do things like this to ensure humility.  Because no matter how much you think you know, any time I've taken a test like this, I've left thinking, "How would anyone know the answer to that?"  But if they happen to only ask questions about Oklahoma State, Kevin Durant, or the BIG 8/BIG XII, I should knock this sucker out of the park.  I'm also very good at sports jargon, I aced that test in my 8th grade journalism class.  I predict this will go very, very well.

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

This is exhausting

Guys, I'm tired.  Like, really exhausted.  How much, you may ask?  Well, last night I had a dream I was going to prom.  I had decided that I would wear a tuxedo top and jeans.  Apparently, in my dreams I am the 1996 version of Garth Brooks at the Grammy's.  I woke up and realized, there is no analyzing to be done, I'm just going crazy.

So what could be causing these elevated levels of sleepies?  I see two possible answers.

First, my tiny human wears me out.  Let me go ahead and cut you off at the pass before you tell me that your 2/3/4 kids make you more tired than me.  Cool story.  This isn't a competition.  And this is my blog, and we're talking about me.  And right now the two year old I live with is exhausting.  On Saturday, Husband snuck away to watch the Sundevils with some friends leaving just us girls to our own devices at home.  And let me just tell you, one-on-one time is like being in the throws of a Congressional hearing.  So. Many. Questions.  Luckily, I'm quick on my feet, so if I don't know the answer, I just make one up.  By the time Husband got home, I looked at him and said, "I can literally not answer one more question.  Not one."  Then we took a family adventure to Sam's.  Started off with Tiny Human marching up and down the aisles yelling, "Look at all of this!  It's amazing!" About 30 minutes in, the interpretive song and dance portion of the program began.  It was a combination of spinning, downward dog, Jesus Loves Me, and a song about colors in Spanish.  As I watched her roll on the floor while belting out, "Yes!  Jesus loves me and Christmas trees have lights!" I thought to myself, "this is what you deserve, Kath."

I think, however, that my real exhaustion stems for Kirk Herbstreit.  Or as my brother likes to call him, Herb Herbstreit.  I just can't take him anymore.  On Saturday, prior to kickoff, he referred to Arizona State as the most overrated team in the nation.  Following their convincing win against Notre Dame, he called the Sundevils "trendy" and then pointed out that they got beat badly by UCLA and only beat USC because of a Hail Mary.  He then went on to subtly try to convince me that Ohio State was the most deserving new member to the top four.  Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Your bias is starting to show.  And no, I'm not talking about SEC bias, I'm talking specifically about your bias against me.

Lest we forget about his blatant hatred of Oklahoma State in 2011.  Remember your sound reasoning that the Pokes couldn't play for the national championship?  We didn't deserve it because we had a bad loss, remember.  Well, I've got two words for you Herbie:  Virginia. Tech.  Your beloved Buckeyes got beat by a craptastic Va Tech team that may not even finish with a winning record.  Bad loss.  Terrible loss.  And if it's enough to keep my Cowboys out, your stupid Buckeyes should stay home too.  And no, you can't change your mind.  No take backs.

Kirk Herbstreit exists on this earth to make me mad and talk noise about teams I like.  I knew he couldn't be trusted when he continued to tell me Mike Stoops was a great coach.  Keep it up, pretty boy and I'll arrange to have you put into a room with Tiny Human and 1,000 items she's never seen before.  She will Guantanamo your ass and bring you to your knees with her questioning.  

Fly on the Wall

Look people, I'm thin on material.  It's a sad state of affairs around here.  I don't really have any opinions to give on OSU football.  Project Runway has come to an end.  Election season is complete.  I really am left with very little to evaluate.  I guess I could tell you about the latest New Yorker article I read about a Mexican lucha libre wrestler who wears no mask and dresses in drag, but let's just save that gem for another day.

Instead, I'm going to let you peak inside recent conversations at our house.

The Setting: Last night as I'm trying figure out what I'm going to wear to an event.

Kathy: The dress for this is "snappy casual."  I don't really know what that means....but I don't think I have anything that fits that description.
Husband: Yeah.  You have more of a "mom wardrobe."
Kathy: (snapping head  around): WHAT?!
Husband: *silence*
Kathy: What does that mean?!
Husband: You know, like work clothes.
Kathy: I feel a lot of anger towards you right now.
Husband: Yeah, I kind of figured.  *walks away*

I can't even put into words how offended I was/am/always will be.

The Setting: Sitting down to dinner and the television is on ESPN with some sort of NBA analysis going on.

Tiny Human: Who's that?  What's that name?
Me: That is John Anderson, Chauncey Billups, and George Karl.
Tiny Human: He's a turtle!
Me: You think George Karl looks like a turtle?
Tiny Human: Yeah!
Me: I'm not going to disagree with that assessment.

See for yourself.

The Setting:Talking about the big game this weekend, pitting the Fighting Irish of Notre Dame versus the Arizona State Sun Devils.   The Catholics versus the Horned Ones.

Husband: A lot of people are talking about how this really is a big game, in so many ways.  Like it could be a defining moment.
Kathy: It definitely could be
Husband: And you know, ASU has the tendency to falter in the spotlight.
Kathy: Yeah, I'm afraid this might be a pile of poo.
Husband: *stares back at me*
Kathy: *smiling* I'm just a mom, what do I know?

Don't worry though, I'll be cheering on the Sun Devils tomorrow while wearing sensible shoes, a ribbed sweater and mom jeans....which are apparently back in style.

Happy Weekend, Go Devils!

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.

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.

Letters: She's not even that pretty

Sometimes I roll my eyes so hard, I give myself a headache.  This is my current state when talking college football.  I'm having lots of "oh come on" and "puh-lease!" moments.  I've reached maximum capacity on annoyance.  Let's delve in and see what all the fuss is about, shall we?

Dear Oregon,

STOP LOSING TO ARIZONA!  I am having a hard time putting together the right words to express my annoyance with you.  Quit it.  They aren't even good.  I mean, if you want to lose to an Arizona school, lose to the Sundevils.  Arizona can't even decide if their mascot is a boy or girl, so they have one of each.  Does that sound like a school that deserves a "big win"?  No it does not. Also, you are hurting my credibility when I continue to tout the strength of the PAC 12.  You've upset me.  Again.

For the love of Quackers!

Kathy

Dear College Football Pollsters, 

Okay, as much as this pains me to say, I assume that with dumb Arizona's big win, they will appear in the top 15 next week.  That is the formula, right?  Unranked/unbeaten team beats top 10 team and then vaults into relevancy?  Because that's what happened with Mississippi State.  Never did it occur to anyone that maybe LSU is just having a down year and they might have been overrated to start the season.  Nope.  If one SEC team beats another, it means the conference is stacked.  So much talent. Hashtag: eye roll.

You know what your behavior reminds me of?  When one popular high school boy decides that some random girl is hot.  And then all of a sudden, everyone thinks she's hot.  And then everyone wants to date her.  And I'm over here saying, "Seriously?  Just because Joe Bob Quarterback thinks she's hot, everyone else does too?  SHE'S NOT EVEN THAT PRETTY!"  And are we sure we should follow his judgement?  He's flunking geometry, and that's by far the easiest math.  As Sara Rue once said in Can't Hardly Wait: you're all sheep.

I clearly see through your ruse,

KHR

Dear State of Mississippi,

I'm looking forward to after this weekend not having to pretend like we should care about anything that comes out of Mississippi, except for you mudpies.  Worth noting, I actually have nothing against the state itself. I hear the coast is beautiful.  I just hate the love affair with the SEC.  Someone's got to be the martyr, Mississippi.  No hard feelings.

Lylas,

Kath

Dear University of Michigan,

There's this phrase, "dumpster fire," you might be familiar with seeing as you are the home to Detroit.  (I kid...but I saw 8 Mile, I know what I'm talking about).  I'd say dumpster fire is an adequate term for the current state of affairs with your program.  As someone with absolutely no invested interest, I'm enjoying the show.  So keep it up!  Protest, march, band together!  You guys should plan a protest under the giant Las Vegas message board.  Oh, what's that?  It was causing people to crash their cars because it was so distracting?  Anyway, you guys get together, before it starts snowing, which should be any day now, and march to demand change.

I even have a chant for you.  It's Pure Michigan, if I do say so myself.  "Geez o' Petes!  Fill the seats!"

You're welcome and bundle up!

A former resident

I feel better now that I got all that off my chest.  As always, Go Pokes!

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.

That is information I do not have

It has come to my attention that I may not know everything.  I can tell by your reaction that you are as surprised as I am.  It's okay, we can get through this together.

While I pride myself in having lots of useless knowledge, it seems like I might need brush up on a few topics.  The following conversations exposed my lack of knowledge on two different topics.

Sunday before the first NFL game of the day:

Husband: I don't even know who the backup running back is in Minnesota.
Kathy: Don't ask me.  I can name a grand total of two players for the Vikings.  And Adrian Peterson is one of them.  Kevin Williams is the other.
Husband: Kevin Williams doesn't play for them anymore.
Kathy: Okay, I can name one player on that team.
*Husband goes into the office, looks up roster, starts reading off players.
Kathy: Let me go ahead and stop you.  I should have been more clear.  I don't care who plays for the Vikings.  

A few weeks ago after the Tony Stewart incident.

Kathy: You know, I really don't know anything about NASCAR.  I think I could only name a few drivers.
Husband: Same here.
Kathy: Tony Stewart...Dale Earnhardt...Jimmy Johnson...Cole Trickle
Husband: I don't think the last one counts
Kathy: Depends on who you ask.  Rubbin' is racin', ya know?
Husband: Let me out of the car, Cole!  (in Australian accent)
(we really should take our show on the road.  High comedy at all times)

I also don't really know much about OSU.   I don't know why JW Walsh was sitting on top of the stadium on Saturday night.  According to the depth chart that was released on Saturday, he was still listed as a potential starter.  I suppose sitting on top of the stadium is our new "bullpen."  Very innovative.  When it's time for him to come in, we send him a bat signal and he parachutes down.  What I do know (now) is that the man who sits in front of us at the games does not appreciate one tiny bit criticism of Walsh.  Noted.  Please accept my half-hearted apology, sir.

I don't know if we will be any good.  I don't know if the receivers will be able catch what Double X throws them or not.  I don't know how we will stack up against the rest of the Big XII.  I don't know if running it up the middle three downs in a row will start to work....just kidding.  I do know the answer to that one.  It won't.

So check back with me in October, maybe I'll be smarter then.

Until then, I'd like to share with you a revelation that occurred last week.  Remember a couple of posts ago when I told you all about how I get phrases wrong?  Well, I know where that comes from.  Husband.  He gets things not quite right all the time.   Like, he's in the ballpark, but not hitting home runs.  Need an example?  I'm happy to provide one.

I'll give him an A for effort.  Nickname definitely came from a movie about "blades."  One stars Billy Bob Thorton  The other stars Arnold Schwarzenegger.  What's that?  He's not in that movie?  Please add, "facts about Blade Runner" to the list of things I don't know anything about.

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

A moral victory, but I digress.

Do you guys ever misuse phrases?  I'm starting to realize that I misuse a lot of phrases.  In my old age, I'm morphing into the bartender from Boondock Saints. I ended a long email rant the other day with, "but I digress."  I then started to think, "I'm not sure I used that correctly."  I often use this phrase to end impassioned soliloquies.  Kind of a "and that's what I think about that!" or "this is Kathy, signing off."  And it seems, that "I digress" doesn't mean either of these things.  I gathered from my extensive internet research (Urban Dictionary and Wikipedia) that it actually means, "I've gotten off topic, so let's refocus."  Here's the ironic thing: I get off topic ALL THE TIME.  You'd think I would know the proper phrasing for my condition.  I just needed to get that off my chest.  A little confession before we get to the meat of the story. Moving on...

As I watched the Oklahoma State game last Saturday, I could feel a pool of water gathering at my feet.  It wasn't because I peed my pants, it was the ice melting from my cold heart.  Alas!  There is hope after all.  After my last doom-and-gloom post about my bad attitude toward expectations of the season, I got several private messages telling me to shape up or ship out.

Well, don't worry friends.  Optimistic Kath is back. Sure, I suffered some regression and reverted to the 1990s Cowboy fan inside all of us.  I expected humiliation.  I anticipated disgust.  But the 'Boys came to play.  Could it be that we've cleared that hurdle?  Maybe the days of saying, "Oh well, there's always basketball season," are over.  Let's be honest, I'm the only one who still says that anyway.

I started thinking, maybe we've evolved past the team that just gets whipped, and instead we've become the team that always competes.  That's a good progression in my opinion.  We have moved from Michael Dukakis to Al Gore.  Although if we really were Al Gore, technically we would have won the game, just not been given credit.  Like OU against Oregon in 2006.  But I digress...  (I totally just used that right!)

A lot of people have referred to the Florida State game as a "moral victory."  I don't believe in moral victories.  You either win or lose.  And the variance of which it takes to get over losses is what I really focus on.  I got over this one pretty quickly.  Sure, I had that oh-so-familiar feeling during the game.  You know the one, where you think you might barf from nerves that this could really happen or it might all be taken away?  I feel ya, Al Gore.  I feel ya.

But I took a lot of positive things from our season opener.  There is hope.  And more importantly, there is fight.  And as a fan, that is all I can ask for.  Go out and fight each game.  And if you can come close to taking the opposing quarterback's head off, ala Emmanuel Ogbah, that'd be great too.

Wish balloons and music

awwww, the good ol' days.  When the only weed Blackmon needed was Brandon.  Sigh.

Well, it's that time of year again, where Kathy dusts off the ol' wishing shoes and asks the universe for a few things before the season begins. I write down my wishes, tie them to a balloon string and watch them sail into the sky.  Then the balloon gets caught in an electrical wire, bursts into flames and plummets to the ground. Just kidding, I threw that last part in for dramatic effect.

I've been open about my doubts on this season.  I feel uneasy.  My confidence is a little shaken. So as I was thinking about what it is that I really wanted from this year, I realized that my hopes and anticipation of each Cowboy season mirror my feelings about John Mayer.  Stick with me, it will all make sense.

Don't Let Me Down.  This doesn't have to be the best you've ever done.  I really am okay with that.  Let's all be honest, you may never replicate Continuum (2011 season).  It was SO great.  I mean SO great.  When I think about it, I smile.  There was one clunker, your cover of Bold as Love (Iowa State game), but on the whole, kudos.  Slow clap for you, big guy.  And you know, I don't think this has to be a Grammy-award winning album (College Football Playoff), but let's not end up in the $9.99 bin at Target one month out, okay?

One Big Hit.  I have to have the big hit/win to help me survive.  I have to.  You have to give me something that gets radio play.  Last year wasn't great...Paradise Valley was sub-par.  But you gave me Wildfire (beating Baylor) and that was enough to power me through to basketball season, which also let me down.  You just keep stringing me along with hints that you really are as great as I think you are and all will be well.

Maybe not so many guitar riffs.  I've seen you in concert (watched games) approximately one million times.  I get your schtick.  And I understand you want to be authentic and try new things.  I supported you when you ventured to the John Mayer Trio (hired a freakin' D2 coach from freakin' Shippensburg State), but maybe you can lay off the guitar riffs (complete and total lack of offensive creativity and adjustment).  You know the ones I'm talking about.  The ones that last for like 13 minutes (4 straight series of 3 and outs)?  I know YOU like them.  But the fans aren't really down.  Open it up.  Play Comfortable (throw it down the field).  I know you don't like to, but this isn't about you John.  It's about me.  I like that song (passing play), so just do it.

And that's it.  I'm keeping my expectations reasonable.    You know, no matter what you produce, I will still be loyal.  People will continue to make fun of me for being faithful to you, but I believe in you.  I really do.  You're crazy some times, like dating Jessica Simpson or your ill-advised stand-up comedy career (Cowboys 4ever and letting Monken get away), but I know that you mean well.  

Also, if the intro video didn't suck this year, that'd be swell.  Music with words.  Video of big hits.  Broken bones.  Spleen lacerations.  I really don't need to see guys running wind sprints.  You gonna show me running?  Show me that video of Dez Bryant racing a horse.  I can get behind that. *

Go Pokes.

*I couldn't make the connection to John with this one. He's a pacifist, doesn't translate.

I Don't Get It

I'm back from vacation!  Blogging vacation that is.  In real life, I haven't gone anywhere fun except the fancy grocery store by our house which causes me to spend too  much money.  So that's kind of like vacation, right?  Of note, Husband and I are roadtripping to Illinois this weekend for a wedding.  22 hours round trip.  Should be great.  I'm open to suggestions for audio books.  But they can't be too scary, because scary books make me a nervous driver.

But let's jump right into today's topic, shall we?  Here are a few things that I just don't understand.  Shed some light on the topics if you can.  Kathy would appreciate it.

My (Too) Smart Phone

My phone is officially too smart.  I discovered not that long ago that every time I take a  picture, my phone is storing it to my Google + account.  I don't even really know what my Google + account is, but apparently, that's where all my pictures are.  I don't have any incriminating pictures on my phone, but I'm uneasy with the fact that if I want to take a picture of a crazy person doing a crazy thing, it is instantly stored in my cloud.  I can't figure out how to unlink my pictures to the internet.  Because apparently, I'm an old person and I don't understand these confangled things.

But what really made me question all things in the world, was when my phone sent me an alert that my "story" was ready  for review.  Story?  What story?  My God, has someone written an unauthorized biography of me?  I hope they made my character skinny.   I click on the link to the "story" titled A Weekend in Tornado Alley.  I thought maybe someone had sent me something to edit...but no.  A Weekend in Tornado Alley was a compilation of pictures I had taken over the weekend.  And my smart alecky Google + account came up with the clever title.  My phone is captioning my pictures, people.  THE MACHINES ARE TAKING OVER!  The end is nigh.

#ibelievethatpeoplebehatin

So, unless you live under a rock or hate America, you should be fully aware that the World Cup is going on. The Yanks are two games in: one win, one draw.  Sunday's game had that ol' familiar feeling to it.  Stress, stress, stress...excitement...total elation...heart break.  For a second I thought I was watching Oklahoma State compete in something.  Alas, 'twas not.  It was just Cristiano Ronaldo with a pretty pass, just like his pretty face.

I did, however, notice some hatin' going on via the ol' social network (I don't know what is wrong with me and why I keep ending words with apostrophes.  Must be trippin').  I saw several people comment about all the "bandwagon soccer fans."  And I don't get it.  Why the hate?  Aren't we as Americans prone to being bandwagon national team fans in every sport?  I mean, we do this every time the Olympics roll around.  I'm far from a swimming fan, but I will gladly gather around the TV and cheer on Ryan "Smarty Pants" Lochte.  I understand approximately 4% of Winter Olympic sports, but I still watch. And I want the US to win every competition.  Every four years, I'm the biggest luge fan you'll find.  Go America!  Slide down that icy tube better than everyone else!

This is what we were meant to do.  To get behind our national team.  To cheer them on.  To gather with strangers in bars or parks and high five when we score.  When you are cheering for US Soccer, you are cheering for America.  This is what our forefathers envisioned for us.  I know that's true, because I saw Teddy Roosevelt in the crowd yesterday.  Okay, okay, Teddy Roosevelt wasn't a forefather...but you are missing the point.

So what if people who don't understand soccer or who have never watched it before are overusing hashtags? And so what if those same people won't watch soccer again for another four years?  They are watching it now.  We are all cheering for the same thing.

Maybe, just maybe, you can pack away your mopey pants for a little bit and slap on some stars and bars and just join the fun.  USA! USA! USA!

OSA! OSA!

You know the great thing about sports?  They never actually stop.  You just move from one to the next.  All. Year. Round.

And of course by "great," I mean exhausting.  It would be nice to have a little break.  That's what summer is for, right?  No offense MLB fans.  I just need some down time, a little chance to recharge.  Rebuild that foolish hope I have every season.  It takes some time to convince myself, "This is going to be the year."

But not in our house.  We can't stop watching sports. Ever.

We followed the Thunder through the playoffs with great intensity.  I dragged myself into work many a day sleepy from the game the night before.  We had to make an impromptu roadtrip to Iowa during the Western Conference finals, so the family and I tuned in via Sirius.  And let me tell you, if you thought you were stressed out watching Game 6, imagine being me.  Sitting in the backseat of a car hurling down the highway.  I couldn't get up and pace, I couldn't turn the channel out of disgust or stress.  I just had to sit there and listen.  Like it was 1945.  I listened, with my eyes closed repeatedly praying, "Please let them win!  Please let them win!"  In case you were wondering, the Heavenly Father doesn't seem to be in the business of answering Kathy's sports-related prayers.  You would think after 30+ years of praying for wins, I would learn that it isn't going to happen.

Without missing a beat, we moved all our attention from professional basketball to college baseball.  We attended the Super Regionals in Stillwater with great hope and anticipation.

When we got to our seats, the following interaction occurred.

Lady next to us: Oh!  I was expecting Wendell!
What I wanted to say: I don't know who Wendell is.
What I did: Politely smiled
Clearly agitated woman: Did you buy your tickets outside?!
What I wanted to say: What is your problem, lady?
What I did say: No, we bought them through the website when they went on sale.
Flabbergasted lady: Gosh!  I sure thought they would have sold them to the people who usually sit here.
What I wanted to say: This sounds like a personal problem, lady.  I don't like you.
New Enemy: Are you guys in college?
Husband: No, no.  Not for a long time.
Sweet woman: Well, you look young enough to be in college
What I wanted to say: I don't hate you anymore.  I love you.  You are so smart and observant.
What I did: Politely smiled

Cowboys lost both games.  Sad trombone.  Maybe next year.

So, it's time to relax.  No more sporty sports, right?  Wrong.  So very wrong.  For the World Cup starts this week. And I am married to a footie fan.  Hooray!  Non-stop soccer for weeks on end.  Don't get me wrong, I enjoy soccer, but sometimes I need a break from the antics of those drama queen South Americans.  Pull yourself together, man.  You don't have to react like you've been hit by a sniper's bullet every time you're bumped.  I'm starting to not believe you are actually hurt.

So as the "Greatest Sporting Event in the World" approaches, we watched a little tune-up match on Saturday between the Yanks and Nigeria.  Here are two conversations you need to know about.  Be forewarned that my knowledge of the US Men's National Team is limited.

Kathy: Does the old coach's son still play for us?
Husband: Yes, he's our best player.
Kathy: Really?  What about Jozy Altidore?
Husband: *scoffing* FAR from it.
Kathy: Hmmmm
**following Altidore's two goals**
Kathy: So that guy who is "far from" the best player, he scored both goals, right?
Husband: You've made your point.

Husband: So close!
Tiny Human: So close!
Husband: Good ball!
Tiny Human: Good ball!
Husband: This could be fun.  Can you say, USA!  USA! ?
Tiny Human: OSA! OSA! OSA!
Kathy: Close.  She's obviously an Okie at heart.
Tiny Human: ASU! ASU! ASU!
Kathy: Traitor!
Tiny Human: Traitor!

As you can see, we are firmly in the middle of a mockingbird phase.  Everything you say is repeated.  Everything.  It's like a fun party trick that never ends.  It also means that someone is going to have to change the way he watches sports.  We are going to need to substitute the bad words for family-friendly expressions of anger.  I'm a fan of Zoinks!  Geez o' Petes! (a common expression in Michigan) and Blast!  Obviously, when you yell "Blast!" you have to shake both fists in the air.

It's best to imagine you are in a Scooby Doo cartoon and respond accordingly.

Jeepers!  June is going to be exciting!