Tuesday, January 8, 2008
What's in a Game
I'm feeling a little blue this morning.
Yes, LSU won the national college football championship last night (quite handily, it turns out). Yes, the game was an occasion to forgo a regular sit down supper and instead stuff ourselves silly in front of the T.V. with chile con queso, pork sandwiches, chocolate cake, and beer. Yes, every point scored caused such merriment in S.B., he actually sprung out of his chair to do an energized happy dance around the living room. Causing me to giggle and ponder why it is we never actually go out dancing. Man's got some kind of funky rhythm. Then again, maybe that's just Moi.
But as elation-making as last night's game was, it also portends something bittersweet: the end of football season and, hence, the long, slow slide into a late winter/early spring bereft of any kind of celebratory event or holiday. Okay, so there's the Stupor Bowl. But let's face it, I'm not really a fan of professional football, the Saints and Patriots excepted. Sure, it's nice to stare at some firm buns and chiseled forearms, but after a few minutes of that, I pull out the laptop and start cruising eBay.
As for holidays, talk about barren. President's Day? Yeah, right. Moi, celebrate the birth of a politician? Fuggedaboutit. Valentine's Day? Meh. S.B. is usually out of town for the event and despite my addiction to all things purdy, I've never been much of a fan, although I adore the flowers. Easter? I haven't celebrated since my mother died.
And we won't even talk about the weather. Spring in New Mexico is fickle to say the least. One day you're being seared by the sun and 80 degree temps, the next a foot of snow blankets your budding buddleia.
Obviously, this is a time when I get in a lot of reading and baking.
Oh, and one more thing. Guess what time it also is? Time to fret over whether or not I get picked in the lottery for La Luz. Remember La Luz? From now until May, it's white knuckle time. 'Cause I'm determined to hit a 2:30 this year. IF I get in.
And ever get off this sofa . . .