And while I’m THERE. Seriously! On to you, now-married ex-boyfriend. What is it about Browns season that brings out the “where are you?” from you. Again, in a fucking text message no less, but a voice mail was also an unwanted extra bonus. Browns, cool (they suck, but they’re cool). You, eh-eh.
Christ. First off, I cannot believe I’m up at 3am on Monday when I full well know I’m working in T-minus-6 hours. I was in bed at EIGHT-MOTHER-FUCKING-THIRTY! Yes, for the alphabetically-challenged: 8:30.
Team Booze (yes, I know, completely appropriate) kicked some ass on Saturday! It was my first time playing any sort of organized team sport in, oh I dunno, 15 years?? Although I’m sure I looked damn sweet in my jersey (note to self: have to buy cleats this week), I was shitting my pants when the whistle blew for gametime. Seriously. You really want me on your team. Not to mention that NOBODY knows me on the team – okay, only the guy that drafted me but I’m sure everyone’s looking like, WHO brought HER?? No balls were passed to me. It’s good — that means I didn’t drop any. AND I’m still stellar on my two-handed defensive touch moves. I was steam-trained a few times which accounts for the complete decomposition of my body movements… and my achy ankle… and my bruised ego. I did okay; the nervousness passed within a few plays. And the beer pitchers at the Treehouse in Tremont afterward completely relieved all. Yes, when on a bar league, that’s what you do after you’ve sweat your ass off for the last 40 minutes, you drink.
(Update, I surfed around the internet a bit… I’m still up. It’s now 4:07am and my alarm will be going off in less than two hours).
In a half-hearted attempt to nap after my game (ugh! I KNEW I wouldn’t sleep this weekend), I pull myself together quickly to get out to watch the Bucks game. Met someone for a drink at Liquid before heading down to the Dive Bar/Brutus headquarters. Win, yeah! I get home before 11:30. Sleep… oh, not-so-fast. I’m hungry and prepare to shove my good food diet down the disposal AGAIN. Well, c’mon! There was another frozen pizza just waiting to be eaten, and I had no visitors to blame… and well, this was a hunger that a bowl of Shredded Wheat was just not gonna satisfy. Meanwhile, my not-drunk-ass pulls the 400 degree pizza stone out of the oven with hot pads (because if I didn’t that would be ridiculous, right?). Well, part of the hot pad missed my thumb and I melted several layers of epidermis and will now require a thumbprint rescan at my local tanning center. Fucking ouch followed by a (in)completely dissatisfying stomach fill-up. Couldn’t even eat it. Disgusting. This is what happens when you eat healthy! Your body HATES the bad stuff.
Sunday! Browns home opener! How I’ve missed you, my fall days of tailgating! Parked for free! Woohoo! (and I’m NOT telling you where) then walked up to the Warehouse District. Liquid – BLAST for gamedays! Panini’s – was NOT tempted by the wholesome goodness of fries and slaw on bread with egg and shit and godamn I wanna fucking eat one but I won’t… Eh. *sigh* OMG. I almost forgot. Did I make it on the news? I don’t know what station was at Bar Flyy filming, but the drink proceeds on Sunday went to the A.J. memorial fund. And happily drinking, I did my donation. Then it was Blind Pig style (where the so-mood-gratifying said incident of first paragraph supposedly “happened”). Some (drunk) guy kept picking me up and spinning me around dancing and shit with me and maybe that’s when I looked as if I were having a “good time.” Loved the look on his face when I’m exclaimed, “We’re leaving! Bye!” with no numbers/names/fluids exchanged. Meanvil. (You’re welcome, Beachie). And to be honest, that’s when everything caught up to me. It seemed after the game, we hung out primarily (not drinking) on the street and stole the door guy’s french fries and got the fucking chopper to the neck. Hah! Walked off all that beer (and Jack) by venturing into the Gateway District to have some grub at Winking Lizard and I was home and in bed by 8:30.
I woke up around midnight after a really freaky, completely scary realistic, fucking nightmare. (But then again, I did dream the night before it was snowing while tailgating today). But anyways, enough where I woke up and screamed out “NO!” and actually flinched on the bed with racing heartbeat to boot. I’ve been up since and finally decided at 2 to get out of bed. I put laundry away. I cleaned my kitchen counters. I piled up all the purses I switched out for the last week and just left by the front door. Oooh, but I haven’t put my shoes away yet. Maybe that’s what I’ll do next. It’s better than trolling online stores and spending $100 at Target right? So, here I am, beginning my work-week with a bang (seriously, maybe a hammer to the head could knock me down for like, an HOUR?). 4:30… too early for coffee? Eh, maybe some more football highlights.
