Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Good Luck Charm

I was at a conference Wednesday through Sunday. I returned home, laid in the bathtub, and contemplated a nap. RandBall arrived home at precisely this moment, gave me a quick peck, and ran to the TV. Oh. Game time.

I entered the living room and slumped onto the loveseat, and thought to myself, "Welcome home, Julie." Too tired to move, I stayed until halftime, when I decided to go to bed. We were winning (gasp!) and I was pretty sure the fate of the game was sealed.

Only later did RandBall share with me that the Vikings blew it, and lost badly. He then blamed it on me, because I left the room. His reasoning? I must be a good luck charm if a) the only full game I watched (the Sunday before) the Vikings won, and b) I was there for the first half- when the Vikings were in the lead. I've heard RandBall talk about good luck charms before. When it comes to sports, he's very superstitious. I've heard about games he's watched where he was convinced if he turned on the light, the team would lose. I'm not sure if he ever had lucky underwear that he wouldn't wash for fear his team would lose... but I wouldn't put it past him!

What if I really were the determining factor in the fate of the Vikings? Would I watch every game in hopes that they'd win? Hell no! I'd toy with the team... make them think they've finally got things together- then I'd go to the mall, and wait for their demise! I'd stop into the room as the team is behind by several touchdowns, watch as they are just about to kick their tying field goal, and on a whim, take off to get a pedicure. Mwah ha ha ha ha ha!

Picture courtesy of www.istockphoto.com

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Blog Action Day (just one day late)

So, yesterday was Blog Action Day- a day where bloggers united to present topics related to saving the environment. Now, I'd like to share that RandBall and I recycle. Every couple of weeks, we've got about 4 or 5 grocery bags full of recyclables. This is a very important component for taking responsibility for your carbon footprint. This is the easiest, most accessible way to make a difference. Think about it; someone who you already pay to take away your garbage is willing to come to your house and take away your recyclables, that they may be used again to make future aluminum cans and newspapers. You don't even have to go anywhere. RandBall and I live in a condo, which is a four-plex. All the other owners are single women. None of the other owners recycle. They feel that since they live alone, their recyclable waste is too insignificant. This is not true. I'm appalled when I visit my family up north (for those non-Minnesotans reading, that means Northern Minnesota) and I'm informed that they cannot, for example, recycle cardboard in their area- or based upon where they live, recycling is not available. Those of us who live in a decent sized city have the most options when it comes to recycling. You can even recycle the cardboard core of your toilet paper roll. Please look into your recycling options in your area, and do the responsible thing- recycle!

Picture courtesy of: www.istockphoto.com

Saturday Morning Occurrence

Okay, this has nothing to do with sports, but I had an eerie thing happen to me on Saturday morning. I went to bed at a decent hour on Friday night, and woke around the time RandBall typically awakes (rare, because he needs less sleep than I.) I suggested we go out for breakfast, since the breakfast rush is usually closer to noon in our neighborhood. So we went to a local breakfast nook, and had a lovely meal. Just as we were finishing up our meal, I noticed a little blonde girl near the front door, who seemed to be looking at me. I motioned to RandBall, because she looked a lot like me when I was little. Then I realized she had blonde pigtails and glasses on, and so did I! It was a bit eerie. Then when RandBall looked back towards the girl, we noticed there was not one blonde girl, but two! They looked exactly alike, and both were intensely staring at me. I tried staring back, no change. I laughed. Still staring.

RandBall leaned in towards me and whispered in jest, "Maybe we're the only ones who can see them!" It was seriously a moment it seemed only we were aware of.

Just when the staring was becoming ridiculous, I looked behind me at the wall- wondering if there was a particularly alluring paint-by-number above my head. Alluring, but not a painting, was the HDTV mounted on the wall above my head airing cartoons.

"Oh, I get it!" I said to myself, "They're hypnotized by Saturday morning cartoons!"

Picture courtesy of: http://world.visualwebtools.com

Monday, October 15, 2007

Running at the Speed of Life


Most of you know that RandBall is moving up the ranks at the Strib. You may not see his "Rotation" page any longer, but you do get to see his handsome mug in the paper every so often, and he's got a great team of writers working for him. So, he's doing a bit more "behind the scenes" work, and let me tell you... he's working his ass off. He comes home late, he works 10-12 hour Mondays. He works Friday nights. The first few weeks, I was worried about him- wondering when he was planning on getting some R and R.

I on the other hand am working full time and going to school part time (getting my second BA in ASL/English Interpreting.) Our schedules are crazy, and when we arrive home at the end of the day, you might find us vegging in front of the TV watching past seasons of Curb Your Enthusiasm or The Office... or you may happen upon us at a local establishment, sipping a cold one, winding down after another cyclone of a day.

I think it's our generation- a group of young adults trying to inch their way up- trying to earn a living, trying to build their careers, and showcase their integrity. It's not easy- and when you pick up and change career paths, you find yourself wedged between eager 19 year-olds chomping at the bit to compete in the field.

We are not the vitalized, puppy-dog eyed, go-getters of the workplace. We know our shit- we have loads of life experience, and we know what we want. We've got focus.

And how do we maintain focus? One simple answer: espresso. I came up with this genius idea when moping about how the hell I'm going to get through till May with the addition of an internship on my plate. That's it! Espresso, and loads of it- possibly multiple times a day.

The barista at Caribou Coffee knows my pug's name (what use are human names, anyway?) Starbucks, Dunn brothers, you come in at a close second and third. We love you, and all you have done for our careers. Thank you. Thank you a million times.

Don't you have homework?


Yes, we often have something "better to do" or something more important to do than what we end up doing. Often we choose the easier thing, or the more enjoyable thing, or the short term pleasure over the thing that would, in the long run, help us out. Saturday, we had a gathering, and Sunday, we were sluggish. What can I say? I had homework, yes, I had errands to run, yes. There is always laundry to do, and eyebrows to groom, and nails to file and polish. Yes- even personal hygiene took a back seat to football this Sunday.

I'm am unabashedly an avid self-help book reader. I feel we are all "hopelessly flawed," (This is a quote from my favorite movie, Little Women) and everyone can benefit from a little self-help now and then. One book I have recently purchased is entitled, "The Joy Diet." Though it has nothing to do with food, this "diet" encourages folks to include a list of elements to their daily life in order to increase their enjoyment of their everyday life. One such menu item is "treats," defined as "anything that makes you smile." Well, I have found myself indulging in various treats this weekend. One such treat was seeing, "Jerry Springer, the Opera." I had the pleasure of attending when there were two ASL interpreters working. I have added an entire repertoire of ASL swear words to my ASL vocabulary (if you didn't know, I'm going to school to become an ASL/English interpreter... graduating in May! Horray!) I'm pretty sure I was the victim of a perma-smile throughout the entire performance.

Even if football doesn't make me smile, per se... I spent the afternoon with my husband, curled up on the couch with a sleepy pug, the above-mentioned husband serving me breakfast and coffee during the commercial breaks. Then, when glorifying (this time not the quarterback) Adrian Peterson after the game, I actually knew what he was talking about! I admit, I'm the type of person who does the Simpson's "ha ha" when I see a kicker miss a field goal, or a golfer just barely miss a three foot putt. But during Sunday's game, I was riveted as the kicker prepared to kick a career record field goal. Here's the kick.......... it's good!! I, like a true fan, grinned with satisfaction. Yes, it's good.

Picture courtesy of www.jupiterimages.com

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

I have indulged in the Soma


So last night was an anomaly. The 'Ball and I went to a local establishment for a late dinner and beverage, and *gasp* watched the game. I've learned that coaches call timeouts right after a kicker has kicked a field goal- thus making it null. I've learned that T.O. makes mistakes. And sometimes when a QB has a bad game, the rest of the team rallies for a win. Maybe it was the beer- or maybe it was the amazing service we enjoyed by our fabulous server. Or... maybe sometimes all you need on a Monday night is a good... old... gulp... game of football.

Picture courtesy of www.candylandcrafts.com

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Peace and Quiet


I've noticed that during the week, between Monday night football and the pre-game show on Sunday morning, there's a peaceful hush in the household. Before football season, this was just the norm, but now that Sunday morning through Monday (well after twilight) are filled with the energy of football games, I've taken notice. Our evenings are often engaging, but mellow. We are a couple who go to dinner at 9:00 p.m. and rarely turn in before midnight. Not only do we practice this lifestyle, but we're becoming known for it! A friend of mine recently said, "we could always go out at 9:00 p.m. on a weeknight- you guys are always up for it." Often our evenings consist of watching DVDs until one of us (the snoring one... no not the pug... well her too) falls asleep on the couch in the middle of a Curb Your Enthusiasm episode. I'm beginning to become wise to the industry of football. Have they targeted us? The demographic of Americans who are busy and worn out during the week, and need a hobby? Isn't Sunday a day full of dread for the upcoming work week for the typical 9-to-5-er? Isn't Monday so depressing that everyone needs a beer and a flickering TV screen in front of them? Wait- have I happened upon a drug? The American's soma? Has our need for relaxation and rejuvenation been replaced by hypnosis? I used to think the message went a little something like this, "Dream big, kids- because you could make a million dollars for your athletic prowess too!" Now, I'm beginning to think that the message is more like, "Drink it up, America- we've got an industry to entertain you- and you've got a sucky life."

*SIGH* I have a friend who really believes in conspiracy theories... and I don't intend to create my own, but I do wonder about the appeal of football. Why has the industry blown up to the point that athletes are our best paid "workers?" Why do we culturally appreciate athleticism and physical skill over artistic creativity and social justice? Why is American pop culture common knowledge, and history, social science, politics are not? I wonder how participation in the industries that exist to entertain affects our culture... after all, many adults are not "smarter than a fifth grader." Sad, but true.

Picture courtesy of www.jupiterimages.com