So Saturday of Bowling Weekend found the girls and I at the college football hall of fame. We were short one girl, who was too hungover to leave the room. Whoops...guess she can't hang with the big dogs...what? I'm a weenie, too? Yes...okay...you got me. Could have just as easily have been me in that bed all day. Our poor Misty-9er sacrificed herself for the team. Thanks Misty! So the four of us hit the trail.
First - there are no nice people in South Bend. We were greeted on Friday by the crankiest desk person EVAH, who was screaming at co-workers and slamming down phones. Brilliant.
Second - the bartender said we were the funnest people ever at the bowling alley. Ordinarily I'm used to hearing this...but considering the competition, it wasn't much of a compliment. She says no one ever really has fun in there. uuuuummmmmmm, what? whodawa? OMG, lady, come to our bowling alley - it's like a carnival compared to this death march you call a lounge.
So off we go to the CFHOF...Owen had already pimped out the place as the most fun place...so I had high expectations. Well lemme tell ya, they have a section where you can train like the football players, and that involved a SCALE. That's one thing you don't present to women who are trying to have fun. A SCALE - for you know...weight. Ummmm, ick. I did step on, and I was officially depressed. What did I need? To run in place. We each took a turn. I got 68 steps in 30 seconds. That almost sounds impressive, until you realize the point placement...yeah, I think I
got one point for my effort. On to field goal kicking! YES! I can totally do this, right? It can't possibly be as hard as it looks, right?
WRONG. Yes, that's me, trying to kick a field goal. Notice the form, the grace...the heels. Yeah, that's right - HEELS. We all were wearing heels...and trying to kick field goals. Excellent. The ball never left the ground. Zero hang time. No lift. Sounds like my chest at 36. Chick-chick-boom! (mra3=dork)
Then there was the "extras" room - the stuff that isn't football, but college football wouldn't be the same without it. The marching bands, the cheerleaders, the homecoming queens!
I'd like to thank my court, because you SUCK and I WON!! ha!And then we were onto the field for some real foottball action. Yes, we're playing with a purse, we didn't have a football! I found out after the fact from Owen that if we'd gone in and ASKED, they would have given us one to borrow. Somehow this was more fun.
The snap is good! Ryan's in motion...TOUCHDOWN!!!! Yeah, babies!!! So that's day two in a nutshell. Happy Birthday to me! On to Wagner's ribs tonight...mmmmmmmmmmm.
8 comments:
Don't be drepressed, you have been closer to 40 than 30 for longer than you admit too...Don't give me that look. O.k. now ONLY YOU would play football in heels and with a purse ONLY YOU sweetie. Happy Birthday, enjoy your ribs and be fabooo at 40 not boohoo
A happy birthday indeed to you, Rebecca. A red wine toast to ya 'cause I'm celebrating your natal day in the tradition of our New Year's resolution.
Pea - If you were there you TOTALLY would have played with us!! You would have loved this weekend...
Colleen - I was drinking red last night myself m'dear...I toast in your general direction!
Nice ass in the field goal picture. That's nice ass like I would say to my sis...Wait, nevermind. You were at Wagner's last night and didn't tell anyone???Oh, I guess if I would read the blog yesterday I would have known...
Happy Belated Birthday
Speaking of belated birthday's, there was a picture and a happy belated birthday to a 16 year old from his parents...How nice is that...
Don't worry...I've got 40 breathing down my neck like a dog in heat - June of this year. And we just spent this weekend celebrating my husband's 4-0. If I had kicked that football as you did, a chiropractor would have been involved in extracting me from my fallen position. (Okay, I'm exaggerating, but getting old is hell.)
No Jimmer - we didn't go to Wagner's. We got the pre-packaged Wagner's that you can buy at the store and throw on the grill yourself. Yummmmmy. We ate at my ma's house - watched Idol. Low-key b-day for me...but great.
I should post all of the pictures of all us kicking - our different styles show our personalities, actually - and cracked us all up.
Maybe that will be today's post.
Off to get a massage for chronic shoulder pain that has returned inexplicably after long hiatus.
Happy Belated Birthday Reba!
I should have read the blog yesterday -- Happy Belated Birthday! And don't worry about the 40's - 40's are fabulous and 50's are nifty! Watch out for the 60's though. About the only thing good is looking forward to retirement. Then I really want to speak out about education. They can't fire me then. You should have yelled over the yards; I probably could have found some left-over fireworks. At least bottle rockets and firecrackers. Hope you had a quiet blast.
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