How The Mighty Have Fallen

Today is the first day of Fall, and the umpteenth day of football season. I am truly a football widow, but Bryan is sensitive enough keep an eye out for things to keep me semi-engaged through the season. But yesterday, a dream was shattered.

Maybe not a dream; more like a fantasy. Nonetheless, it was a good one and it's gone.

Until two seasons ago, I had a great reason to watch UGA football:

David Pollack.
(I know, right?)

Bryan started the whole thing. He was all, "Hey, Georgia's got this defensive end I really think you'll like..." The man doesn't care who he has to pimp out to get me watching football. The three of us had a great couple of years. Then David went to play for the Bengals and suddenly he was yesterday's news to Bryan. (Nothing personal, you just have to be a Cowboy to stay on Bryan's radar after you leave UGA.)

Team affiliation didn't matter one bit to me! I remained a David Pollack fan, no matter what colors he wore. I was devastated when he suffered a neck injury last year during the Bengals v. Browns game. I feared my little married woman crush was at an end.Two weeks ago he came back into my life via CSTV's show SEC Tailgate. In a dress shirt, no less.

I was so happy to see him again! The first week he didn't say very much. Sadly, this week I found out why.

While describing what it was like for an opposing team to play Alabama in Tuscaloosa he said something like, "When we walked out to get a feel for the field the student section was full. They let us know they were there; they were yelling explicits at us."

Explicits, David. Really? Seriously?

Suddenly that was it for me. I know, I know. He's a great athlete, and from all accounts a great person. Even the media hasn't dug up any dirt on this guy. He probably doesn't know the technical term for bad words because he doesn't use them, but I'm kind of a hardass when it comes to grammar. I'm not sure why it affected me so strongly, but apparently I can't sustain a harmless married woman crush if the object of that crush doesn't have a good vocabulary. It's enough to make me use EXPLETIVES.

Kitty Abuse

I walked in from work and went straight to the bathroom. When I opened the door I heard a frantic little "mew!" and saw a blur that could only have been my cat escaping from being closed up all day in a 5'x4' half-bath. I realized that was probably about the nine thousandth "mew" she'd uttered that day.

If this were a complete accident it would be easier to forgive myself. Earlier that morning, I was running late for work and Ren ran (say that 3 times fast -ren ran ren ran ren ran) into the tiny downstairs bathroom and refused to come out. My pleading with her only solidified her resolve to stay until physically removed. I didn't have time to coax her out, so I thought I'd shut her in there for a few minutes while I finished packing my lunch. The plan was to humanely communicate the hard reality of being trapped in a small room that apparently looks so glamorous to fiesty kitties-about-town. I would go back two minutes later, open the door, and the aformentioned k-a-t (see what I did there? you like that dont you?) darts out quick as a flash. That was the plan.

Only in my rush I, umm, forgot about the letting her out part. Oops. I just hope she didn't spend her solitary confinement plotting some elaborate revenge. I'm sleeping with one eye open just in case.

Old At Being Young, Young At Being Old

I work in an optometrist's office. As you might guess, we sell glasses.

Last week a dude walks in sporting an Enyce shirt, baggy jeans and some cool kicks. He comes in and says he's looking for some bold glasses that will make a fashion statement - not everyday glasses, just for when he goes out. And they must be gold, so he'll stand out. Not brushed gold or antiqued gold, but bright, bling-bling gold. Oh, and by the way, he likes to wear them reeeal low. OK, brah, we'll see what we can find.

Nary a bright gold pair of specs to be found. While my coworker started trying to convince him that black is the new gold, I glanced at his paperwork. He was 40...and trendier than I was at 22. Then later as he was getting fitted for the glasses I overheard that he needed progressive lenses - so no one would know he wears bifocals.

Isn't needing bifocals your first clue that you shouldn't be shopping for going-out glasses? Here's your sign.

Chili Burgers in Paradise

Well, well, well. Look who joined the blogging world - my hubby!

Interstate Exits In Montana

Ok, so that last post stayed up top a lot longer than it should have. I don't plan these things; when I feel like writing, I write.

I was talking to a very dear friend of mine and she mentioned reading the "All Fired Up" post. According to her, her first reaction was, "Now that's why I don't go to church." So, of course I started thinking about how long that post had been up and how it might affect others along different parts of their spiritual road. Yeah, I know, I think too much.

In that spirit, I'll add the following: People have very good reasons for distrusting organized religion. My friend has some of the best reasons I've heard. I've got a few doozies myself. With 3 people who preach on a regular basis in my family and two years of church school under my belt, I've had a front-row seat to some pretty discouraging stuff. However, I'd urge anyone in a faith crisis to not confuse people's actions with God's. Don't throw out the baby Jesus with the bathwater, so to speak.

The reason churches are so tragically flawed is that they are filled with humans. Frankly, humans suck sometimes. But God is good. Unfailingly, eternally good. I may continue going to this particular church and I may not. If I leave, though, I'll find another faith community. And we'll stumble around as humans do and try to follow Christ's example as best we can. Maybe next time I'll be the one who loses my marbles and hurts someone's feelings, but I'll try not to.

That's deep, Ogre.

On to more shallow stuff. You'll be pleased to know life here is getting better. The major negative influence at my job got fired, and things have been much better since. I wish that person the best of luck in the future; simultaneously, I'm glad she's out of my grill.

I'm getting a lot of flack at home about how infrequently I post. Bryan compared MRF posts to interstate exits in Montana. You never know when they'll pop up, but you're happy when you see one. The Samurai of the Simile is talking about starting his own blog soon. I'm sure we'll be able to take him more seriously when he puts on his big boy pants and actually writes something. (Ooooh snap, no she didn't....)