One at a time

Told myself I would get back to working on the mural again this weekend, but that hasn't quite happened. This is not good since I figure I have about 30 hours of effort remaining. Hmmm.

I did get on the treadmill today, to work off the "make your own" pizzas we had last night while my sister in law's heart got broken by the Packers. Hers was the most interesting, by the way - a french bread pizza with pesto, mushrooms, and sundried tomato, topped with slices of fresh mozzarella wrapped with prosciutto. (I went for a drizzle of alfredo sauce and pesto over chicken, mushrooms, and the sundried tomatoes. I didn't expect her to raid the appetizers to one-up me.) The kids went for "real" pizza of course, red stuff, mozzarella shreds, and a pepperoni slice here & there.

Yesterday I had the unpleasant experience of sitting in front of the biggest jackass at a basketball game, wherein the median age of the players was 10. When the players are 10 years old, it is not necessary to second guess the refs constantly, and complain about the person who is running the scoreboard. Unfortunately I know the guy, which is not to say he's my friend, not in the least.

When your kid falls and knocks down another player on his way down to the floor, and you return from checking him and announce to the crowd that the other kid punched yours, damn straight I'm going to turn around and tell you that I saw with my own two eyes that no such thing happened, he tripped over his own two feet, and you really need to just be quiet already because enough is enough.

(Thank god, they don't sell any beer at these games, so he didn't have anything to dump on my head, or worse. It was definitely not a well thought out set of remarks, because I shouldn't be writing checks my ass can't cash, but I think he was just suprised that anyone would sling it right back at him that way. Either that or it was my really big friend sitting next to me, who by association protected me. For the remainder of the game any time anyone fouled anyone my friend would say "He punched him! I saw it." This mortified his wife, but of course, is exactly why he is my friend.)

In other news, it's really cold here. And really boring. (I can't believe it, but Site Meter tells me I have successfully managed to waste almost 30,000 minutes of the universe's collective time. Thanks for visiting...)