Friday, February 27, 2009

One Year Ago Today.

I am not much for celebrating on the other hand, I wouldn't turn that down. I think this blog and I are what some people refer to as a "match made in heaven". I get to write to my hearts conntent, doesn't matter what I one tells me what to do or how to do it, I can add to it when I want...the blog happily exists even if I abandon it for a few days, it doesn't get lonely or needy, it supports me (spell check and all it's handy little features) and it even allows others to join the fun. Really what more could I ask for...except for one of these.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Red Faced...Again.

Nope, I have no idea who this is. Yep, looking at him puts a little skip in my step. Where did I find this picture you might ask? He showed up in my email one day and I just couldn't make myself delete I kept a file open for him. Then one day I was wondering around the kitchen when I heard the Wild One's scream, "Woooo Mom...who's on your computer?" Evidently the Big Guy thought it would be funny to paste him onto my desk top. And of course I did think it was funny...and I kind of, accidently left him there (can you blame me).

Fast forward to my trip to the library today...thought I'd get some work done away from the distractions of laundry, cleaning, ringing phones and crazy a*# cats. I lugged all my bags (drinks, snacks, books, note pads, puzzle much for distractions) into the study area, unpacked everything and got ready to rock and roll. The problem was that the library router was bound and determined not to let me in. I tried everything I could think of (with my limited knowledge of the internal workings of my computer), I made phone calls and even interrupted fellow patrons. I finally went to the help desk to see if they had any ideas. They sent me an older gentleman (probably about 65, dressed the part complete with pocket protector). Among the things we tried was rebooting my computer. I was desperate at this point and was not thinking what that would include. So standing right in the middle of the library with my lap top wide open...up pops my sexy friend. I could feel the redness cropping up my neck and I am sure I was stammering as I tried to tell him that my husband had put that picture there as a joke. Well, he misunderstood and commented on how nice it must be to see my husband all day long. I set him straight (I should have left well enough alone) and quickly tried to open something to cover him up. We continued working on the problem to no avail (I guess I will have to find new free office space). As I was thanking him for his time and getting ready to shut down my man appeared again. Just before my library friend turned to walk away, he gave one last look at the computer screen and said, "I think I'm gonna miss that man." That is exactly what I needed...I guess my new friend (the sexy one) is here to stay.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009


What do you call work when you don't get paid, it's not volunteering, it's not for fun and it's not for recognition? Add in that your boss is demanding, impatient and has no concept of what or how much he is asking of you. I am not sure there is a proper name for what I am doing, but I am sure there are plenty of names for me...gullible, sucker, foolish, credulous, deficient, obtuse, ludicrous...wife?

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

I Nominate...Myself.

I know the Academy Awards are least the ones in Hollywood...the gowns are picked up off the floor, the jewels returned and day two of recovery from the after parties is feeling pretty good. But up Nord, here in Minnesooota we have this thing called the Academy Awards of Literature (timed to...somewhat...match up with the Hollywood variety), after all it's a bit too cold to be frolicking around in strapless gowns and too slick for four inch heels...and I don't think JB Hudsons has many multi-million dollar diamond pieces lounging around in their stock room. 

The students spend many cold hours snuggled up reading and then make their nominations. My middle Wild One is quite the reader...and quite the schmoozer, negotiator, (ahem) manipulator so when he came to me with a book that I wasn't quite sure of I told him to check with the Big Guy. Now I know that the Big Guy had not read the book, but I was quite sure he had seen the see it was certainly an adult book-written by an adult, for adults, with an adult theme-not to be confused with a book suitable for a 9 year old. BUT, knowing how advanced a reader this child is and his fascination with action, mystery, suspense and thrill he was allowed to read this book (prior to the whole Academy thing)...based on the concept of the book, not the thorough investigation of such actual book (and the dialogue and passages contained within the covers) by either one of his superstar parents.

Along came the school event and the Wild One chose this book in the category of "Best Picture." The tri-fold poster was being transformed into a colorful tribute to the book and characters. The Wild One wrote explanations...careful to include passages and quotes from the book (the Big Guy was in charge of overseeing the initial writing...leaving the editing advise to me) and plastered them on the board inside of homemade books and a carefully created Hum V. He also made a black box detonator, a colorful drawing of a nuclear bomb and an airplane sculpted from legos...which was hung on a shelf under the title of the book.  

As he was assembling the last remnants of the project I took a peek over his shoulder. I got a little wave of vertigo as I realized what I was looking at. A poster depicting a book based on stolen nuclear bombs and the competition between the bad guy trying to sell them before getting caught and the good guy recovering them before they were detonated. If that was not bad enough, I read one of the passages the Big Guy had OK'd...something about the bullets whizzing past and lodging in someone's skull (are you beginning to understand the vertigo?). Yes, I knew the concept of the book. No, I didn't stop to think of the impact of bringing this poster to school to hang for all (5-11 year olds) to see. No, I never looked at the passages in the book, but I discussed the book with the Wild One each day as he read it to answer any questions and talk about the concepts in the book. What I didn't do was open the book and look at the language used (holy sh#*!) or think clearly about the appropriateness of this book for a school project. The Wild One wasn't fazed by the book, "What? I hear that stuff all the time." The books he loves are filled with suspense and battles...just usually fought by make believe animals...and written with an intended audience of children.

I made the Wild One rewrite the passages to include character development, moments of suspense and vivid imagery...without guns, blood or naughty language (that went over well for someone who had spent hours creating his master piece).  So you see when I say, "I nominate myself," I am clearly referring to the "Mother of the Year" award.

Monday, February 23, 2009

OMG, I'm rich.

I just read an article about the value of volunteering. In Minnesota, 2006 the hourly wage value of a volunteer hour was $19.46. Since it increases about 50 cents per hour, per year (remind me to negotiate a better raise next year), the value this year should be about $22.00 per hour. Not bad for doing the things you like and that you know make a difference. I wonder if I have kept track of all my volunteer hours since 1992...when I started volunteering with regularity. I know that I spend at least 5 hours a week now (sometimes it feels like a full time job) if I saved that money...that would be a lot of trips to Caribou and maybe even a trip to Disney each year. Now I just need to figure out where I pick up the check.

Friday, February 20, 2009


I have been trying something new. Instead of telling my family nicely (OK the fifth time...not so nicely) what I'd like them to do, I have just started thinking it.  Actually, I aim the thought at them like a ray from a Star Wars ship...maybe if I knew more about the rays or even what the ships are called my powers would be greater. I wonder if they have even noticed my "Stepford Wife" stare while I am doing this...or if they just think to themselves, "Oh mom's having another one of those moments...better steer clear." But, just this morning the wee Wild Ones picked up their dirty jammies and put their dishes in the dishwasher. Even the Big Guy is beginning to sway. As I was zipping my coat and pulling on my mittens, he offered to take the garbage down (no matter that he was still in his robe and I was already dressed like an Eskimo). I think I may be onto something.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

No More Babies.

The talk around our house lately has revolved around the kitties surgery...better known as "Jasper getting his balls cut off" when the Wild Ones are talking about it (I swear I never said any such thing, I'm pretty sure that the Big Guy didn't phrase it that way...but when you have young boys they seem fascinated with these types of words and are very creative in sliding them into conversation...and then running before they get caught). There is also much discussion about the fact that they (the kitties...not the Wild Ones) are now unable to have babies...and why the Big Guy and I would ever subject them to such a horror. No explanation is satisfactory and I am at the end of my creative abilities to have this discussion for three different levels of intellect...and maturity...all at the same time. My maturity level has plummeted...I can't stop the giggles and I think I shot a little water out my nose last night. When will I perfect the art of control...the perfect back turned, silent laugh, biting the inside of my cheek and holding back tears, the stern look at the inappropriate (but hilarious) comments? Hopefully not until the Wild Ones are grown and have to deal with their own kids...perhaps not even then.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Did You Get the Warning?

People warn you not to feed your dog "people food," but they don't usually explain why. Which is part of the reason it doesn't seem so bad to do. We have always given the Rotten Dog a few scraps and treats here and there (mostly carbs and proteins in his dog bowl...never from the table and never from a "people plate") kind of hard not to when he looks at us with those big dark eyes. So the other day when there was a small dish of pasta left on the table after dinner...naturally I scraped it into the dog bowl. Within an hour I was cursing those people who never told me why. The smell emanating from the back end of that dog (not to mention the noise, which was comical until the Wild Ones started insisting it was me) was worse than day old vomit (you know the kind you find on a blanket that the Big Guy missed in the middle of the night when cleaning up after a sick Wild One). I tried to get away, but Rotten very quietly placed himself under my feet every time I moved and I didn't notice him...until I nearly passed out from the invisible gas permeating my nostrils. When I came to, I pledged to change the "warning" to include an explanation...and a clothes pin for your nose.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Drivers Beware.

This is a message to the idiot...I mean driver...behind me on the highway this morning. I was cruising along the bypass with two kitties in the front seat trying to impersonate Houdini, minding my own business with a smile on my face...hey it was 7:30, the sun was shining and I was feeling free. Then I noticed the black Accura that looked as if it was going to go right over the top of my dirty little Nissan (hey if it didn't hurt me...or the kitties...I'd be all for it...might get a shiny new Accura out of the deal). We were on a one lane (two if you count the cars coming at us) highway with a speed limit of 60...I was going 65. There was a constant steam of cars passing in the other direction and a solid line of cars in front of me for as far as I could see. Mr. Black Accura seemed to think that if he rode my a** he would get to work (or Caribou) 15 minutes if I was the only obstacle to his promptness. Just to spite him, I turned up the radio and started singing (and dancing) as loud as I could...thought my cheeriness might add to his frustration. As soon as the road opened into several lanes, Mr. Black Accura pulled to my left and over took me (well...actually my Nissan, but I gave him my best smile as he cruised past) and pulled right in front of me...and then immediately slammed on his brakes so as not to hit the car directly in front of him. Perhaps he was so enthralled with my song and dance show that he did not see the looong line of cars holding ME up. I slowed to give him some space and hoped that I'd still get to my appointment on time...and that he'd get to his alive.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Where Does the Time Go?

Really...I have been sitting at my computer (which isn't even pink anymore) since 9 o'clock this morning-that's 12 hours my friends. Well, I have made waffles (from scratch with homemade whipped cream) for 6, lunch for 5 and dinner for 3...and did all the clean up since I don't usually make the friends do dishes, done several loads of laundry, driven a little car pooling (which involved a little chatting...the kind where the kids run off and start playing cuz they know it's going to be a while), written a few (by hand) thank you notes, medicated a few owies, fielded calls from my mother and the Big Guy's mother, got the mail (from the end of the looong icy driveway)  and played "Yes I adore you and miss you" texting games with the Big Guy...Oh, I guess that's where all the time went. 

Friday, February 13, 2009

200 Posts...200 pieces of no particular order.

1. Pink, anything pink. 2. Four adorable, intelligent, witty Wild Ones. 3. One pain in the ass, but can't live without, Big Guy. 4. Best Friends. 5. Cold Toes. 6. Sleeping with fans (the blowing kind...ELECTRICAL). 7. Blogging. 8. Fuzzy Blankets. 9. Stepping on Legos. 10. Immune to rolling eyes. 11. Ghosts and monsters. 12. Laughter. 13. Love...sweet love. 14. Running (not necessarily away from things). 15. Learning. 16. ADD. 17. Roller coasters. 18. Chipotle. 19. Jammies. 20. Big black Rotten Ruger. 21. The Grouchy Dog. 22. Lollypop. 23. Believe. 24. Extra sharp white cheddar. 25. Volunteering. 26. Writing. 27. Funny. 28. Addictions. 29. Flirting. 30. Rock star. 31. Bloody ankles. 32. Talk radio. 33. Touch sensitive. 34. Clumsy. 35. Books, books, books. 36. Piles. 37. Confident. 38. Creative cook. 39. Computer savvy wanna be. 40. Tattoos. 41. Dancing. 42. Local bars. 43. Concerts. 44. Chocolate. 45. MN state fair. 46. Rutledge cabin. 47. Afternoons on the boat (with or with out the Wild Ones). 48. Carillon Beach. 49. Diamonds. 50. Guacamole. 51. Sunshine. 52. White sand between my toes. 53. Daisies. 54. Nieces and Nephews. 55. Happy hour. 56. Jasper and Darby. 57. Mascara. 58. More give...less take. 59. =/- 20 pounds. 60. Philosophy. 61. Debating with Papa Elf. 62. Oliver's gardens. 63. Creation. 64. Seafood. 65. Canoeing on the river. 66. Skiing (in the mountains). 67. T-shirt design. 68. Soups. 69. Rice crispy bars (or cakes). 70. Caffeine free diet pepsi. 71. Reader's Digest. 72. Photography. 73. Playing games. 74. Gemini. 75. Wild flowers. 76. Candy making. 77. Grammer and Great. 78. Venice. 79. The smell of spring. 80. City girl. 81. Photography. 82. Thrift shops. 83. Caribou (the hot frothy kind). 84. Math speed champ (1970's). 85. Insomniac. 86. Medium point blue pens. 87. Doodling. 88. Right handed. 89. Aberdeen. 90. Ambidextrous brain. 91. The smell of babies (freshly washed and lotioned). 92. Making out with the big guy. 93. Geek attractor (better than carnies). 94. Social geek...can't initiate friendship. 95. Impatient. 96. Impulsive. 97. Miss Listy List. 98. People watching. 99. Singing at the top of my lungs...and way out of tune. 100. Dancing in the kitchen. 101. Light and noise sensitive. 102. Christmas music. 103. Hiking. 104. Sleeping naked. 105. Guitars. 106. Harleys (my guys and the bikes). 107. Codependent. 108. Gay rights. 109. Hoar frost. 110. Skky Orange. 111. The number 11. 112. Liberal conservative. 113. Introvert. 114. Can't hold a thought. 115. Getting dirty. 116. Hard work. 117. Dork with a keyboard. 118. Bad poker face. 119. Wild One football games. 120. Education. 121. Coca-Cola cherry zero. 122. Water slides. 123. Screaming at soccer games. 124. Intuitive. 125. Run on routines (but don't always stick to them). 126. Talking, talking, talking. 127. Fiercely independent. 128. Daydreamer. 129. Dancing on tables...wearing cowboy boots. 130. Hats and Halter Tops. 140. Jack of all trades...master of some. 141. Never been a "popular kid". 142. Must cross my legs when I sneeze. 143. Twilight. 144. Grateful. 145. Yellow butterflies. 146. Drinking soda room temperature. 147. Flip flops. 148. Analytical. 149. Cynical. 150. Outspoken. 151. Girl crushes. 152. Sporty dads. 153. Curiosity. 154. Jeans, fitted t-shirts and sexy 3 inch heels. 155. One of the guys. 156. Anything but green thumbs. 157. Simple life. 158. Moody. 159. Internal wallflower. 160. Proud mommy. 161. Comedies. 162. A smattering of curly chest hair (not on me). 163. Kitties. 164. Rugged, but smart. 165. Hot tea...iced tea. 166. Crazy. 167. Bad speller. 168. Texting. 169. Loving. 170. Being loved. 171. Married first lover(married him...not had a married lover). 172. Speak my own language. 173. Social phobe. 174. Sunflower seeds. 175. Road trips. 176. Commando. 177. Children's books. 178. Looking forward to heaven. 179. Artwork created and words written by the Wild Ones. 180. Secrets. 181. Spicy food. 182. Shoes, coats and purses. 183. Nicknamer. 184. Therapy. 185. Obsessive. 186. Trees with no leaves. 187. Strong. 188. Snarkiness. 189. Fudgy brownies. 190. Walking barefoot. 191. Singalongable music. 192. Natural silence. 193. Everyone has a story. 194. Yearning for a neighborhood. 195. Opinionated. 196. Internet junkie. 197. Sociology. 198. Late bloomer 199. Up for anything 200. Shenanigans, shenanigans and more shenanigans!

Twelve Year Old Girls...and One Boy.

It wasn't as bad as I expected...a 40 minute bus ride (two times) and 4 1/2 hours running wild through the Nickelodean with 200 6th graders...of course I was only directly responsible for 10 of them. They were excited, respectful and responsible (a vast improvement from last years 5th grade field trip which took a bottle of ibuprofen and a bottle of vodka to recover from). In the excitement, I noticed something about the majority of the girls...they bounce around from place to place on the balls of their feet...usually with at least one other girl clinging to their elbow, looking like she is being drug along for the ride. Then when they get close to you (or any other adult that may respond to them) they get way up on their toes and right in your face and start a non-stop, jiggling monologue,"OMGdidyouseethat?Didyouridethat?ShouldIgothat?Didyougoonthat?Isitscary?Iwannadothat.Wouldyougoonthat?OMGthisissgreat.Iamgoingtodoit?Areyougoingtodoit?" And before you can even focus and figure out which girl is in your face (or if it was the one boy in my group that was just as giddy as the girls)...she is already bouncing off to attach herself to the next available 12 year old. Every time it happened I would just go back to ten kids...and minutes left before it was time to leave.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Double Digits.

Wild Ones up extrememly early? Check
First surprise given? Check
Movie and dinner plans made for after school? Check
Lego's wrapped? Check
Home made ice cream cake made (yesterday's last minute request)? Check
Nerfs ordered (fingers crossed FedEx man can make it up the icy driveway today)? Check
Friends party planned? Oh Crap

It is almost official...9 am to be exact...that the Boo, Boodle, Egg, Hen, Boo Boo Boy leaves the single digits behind. For a boy who would rather be at home (with friends) than any where else...we have a fun filled, but very packed day today (hope there is a little time left for homework...maybe Mr. A will give the little dude a pass). Art Institute, special lunch at school, The Pink Panther 2, dinner delivered in (of course) and the best time...I mean presents. Actually the medium Wild One loves gifts as much as the rest of us, but family time might top his list of things to do. He often includes items on his birthday list that he can share with the family...such as the Oakland Raiders Nerf football that he wants cuz the Big Guy loves to play catch (and coach the little dudes team) and had a friend that played for Oakland...a loooong time ago! Time to lick the frosting off my fingers, heft the gifts up from the basement and (load myself up with drugs) psych myself up for a busload of 4th graders. Happy Happy day Boodle!

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

It's My Turn.

I'd like to thank the academy...I mean the Wild Ones. Actually I take full credit myself. I have been inundated with vomit, sneezes, coughing, sore throats and germ filled kisses and it never once crossed my mind to pop a million Immuniboost pills. I talk about them, I warn others, I swear by them, but this time I just plain forgot. My consequences...sore neck, droopy eyes, aching head and sneezes that threaten the stability of the old oak in the back yard. What I need is a few days of rest...what I get are two days on big orange school buses surrounded by screaming 4th and 6th graders and the responsibility of guiding the 4th graders through the Minneapolis Art Institute and herding 11 hormone filled 6th graders at the Mall of America theme park...under the ruse of a science field trip. Maybe the horror filled roller coaster will clear some of the phlegm from my lungs. As they say...we reap what we sow.

OH GOODY...another one just threw anyone?? Calgone??

Monday, February 9, 2009

All Things Red.

As you may have noticed, Red is not my color (I think it may be a good color for me to wear, but you'll probably never get the chance to see it for yourself...I just can't do it). Now pink on the other always somewhere near me: shirts, coats, phone, notebooks, name it (if I don't have's only a matter of time). So when Valentines week rolls around I try my best, but I just cannot pick up the red card, the red flowers and you will never see me at a Valentines party dressed in a red shirt (perhaps a white one with a very subtle pink heart tucked away somewhere) with red, plastic coated hoop earrings. So while it is only Monday and we have 5 days to go until V-day, I am all rojo, rouge, kokino, roseus, rot, rosso-ed out. I think I will bury myself in home work until Sunday when I can pretend that spring is right around the corner...and all the jeweled colors that come with it.

Friday, February 6, 2009

The Weather Outside is Frightful.

A friend sent an email yesterday of Jeff Foxworthy jokes..."You know you live in Minnesota if..." type statements. The funniest one was, "You know you live in Minnesota if you always carry jumper cables in your car...and your girlfriend know how to use them." But the one that hit home this morning (and reminded me of my crazy neighbor and running buddy who challenged the middle Wild One to a contest to see who could wear shorts the longest...I think they tied somewhere around the beginning of November) was,"You know you live in Minnesota if you have worn shorts and a the same time." I was up most of the night last night, so I was feeling pretty good when I got the tall Wild One up and out of the house...on time. It wasn't until she got out of the car and walked toward the bus that I fully understood what she was wearing. Pretty much shorts and a parka (it was of the vest variety...fits better in the small lockers...but it did have a fur lined hood). I felt a little better when I remembered that it is "Spirit Week" and today is slated for wearing school colors...she decided on her soccer uniform, shorts and all. Oh well, she probably won't be the only one...I hope.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Let's Talk Economy.

I know people are hurting, businesses are hurting...our country is hurting. I want it to be known that I am doing my part to make things better. I do not work...that leaves one more job open for someone else...and I spend money. Not just on things I need to survive like food and gas for my car (you know to get the Wild Ones to the doctor and such...cough...caribou), but on things like a new floral tea pot and a scarf to perk me up. I have a hundred dollar bill in my purse for such...emergencies. The problem is that no one will take a hundred dollar bill. I'm not kidding,  I have had this same Ben Franklin in my purse for months. Every time I find a little something to kick start the economy I fish it out, hand it over and am either asked, "Do you have something smaller?" or, "I'm sorry I don't have change for that." If businesses are hurting so badly for business, why won't they take my money? A girl can only do so much...of course all I have to do is whip out the plastic and put my friend away...see that is how I save money and stimulate the economy...all at the same time.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Too much time on my hands.

Another month, another birthday. I am legoed out and nerfed out. In my never ending quest to be "Mother of the Year" I thought I would throw a few surprises into the mix of blasters and mini figures. I have a great catalog of "brainy toys for kids of all ages" (MindWare...located right here in Minnesota...go figure) so I started looking for things that would be of interest to a very intelligent...if I do say so myself...soon to be 10 year old. As I added several things to my cart, my adrenaline began pumping and I soon lost total was well into the multiple three figures. I looked back through my list and realized the things I was buying were really geared But hey if I get these things and sit down and do them with the 10 year old...a few points toward MOTY?? Maybe I should stick with the legos and nerf games if I want to see smiles on the birthday boy's face. But just so you know...I accidently clicked "confirm purchase" on the web I don't know about the Wild Ones, but I know what I will be doing for the next few months...or at least looking at every time I walk by the game room.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

I Guess it's about Time.

I have a lot of old stories up my sleeve, but I have to be careful who is in the stories and what they will do to me if I "tell all" here where anyone from Norway to Zimbabwe can read it (not that it really matters when these people will never set eyes on any one of know the ones in my stories). My wee Wild One wanted me to blog about our "nother Christmas" that we finally had this weekend with my side of the family. Not much to tell...a little seafood chowder, dilly bread and a few gifts...oh yeah and the games. We sat around the dining room table trying to play a new game...and people just weren't getting the rules...especially the Big Guy's mom (yes it was my family, but we invite her to keep her busy...and as a little extra entertainment for us). In the game each person had to describe something of theirs without letting the "guesser" know what it was (there is a central category as in "car" and each person gives clues..."mine is dirty"...and the guesser puts it all together and guesses "car"). Well my MIL (mother-in-law for those of you who have forgotten) was having a terrible time with the whole concept, but the funny part was that she couldn't figure out what people were "Mine is square" would come across to her as "minus square" and she would start going on about how the answer must be mathematical because "if you minus the square of something then it must be a big number otherwise it would be a negative number, but that could be something outside because it's so cold out there, but maybe it's a jacket because then you would stay warm..." Now this is where the old story comes in. At another family function we were all playing a game that started out with the person reading a card that had words like "minus" and you had to figure out that it was really supposed to be "mine is". So my baby cousin (the 34B Cup) was reading a card that said something like, "True man cup hold he." Ok if you listen to yourself read this out loud I am pretty sure you will hear Truman Capote...and to win that point you must know what you are saying. So 34B said, "Truman Capote" over and over and over and we were all screaming, "Yes!" but she couldn't hear what she was saying...she was still saying, "True man cup hold he." Come to find out she had no idea who Truman Capote was or that there even was such a person. She obviously didn't gain any points, but we gained a family joke that gets repeated over and over and over...even when she is no where in sight. So 34B, thanks for the laughs Saturday night...I think this one is stuck with you forever.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Wishy Washy.

I know everybody was excited for the Superbowl and people plan their day, weekend and vacations around the big day, but I just wasn't into it this year...until the game started. The plan was to hop on the snowmobiles (the Big Guy with the number one Wild One and me sandwiched between the other two Wild that is a whole other story) and head down the luce line to the Ox Yolk Inn...not much of a sports bar...but we were not overly crazy about the game (between the 5 of us not one of "our teams" was playing). Well we got across the first field without dumping anyone, but soon saw smoke from one of the machines...time to go home and reassess. By a vote of 4-1 we ended up driving to the bar and getting a front row seat just as the game was starting. Dinner was good, but we had to get home for last minute homework and Monday morning off we went. I was excited that Pittsburgh was winning...afterall I don't really like red and those Pennsylvania boys looked awfully cute in their tight yellow bloomers, but as we caught bits and pieces of the game at home I became sucked in and wanted to root for the underdog. I am a sucker that way. But in the end I knew I had chosen right (even if not for the right reasons). It would be a good day to be waking up in Pennsylvania to cheer on all the cute, young boys dressed in yellow...the only damper was Phil seeing his shadow.