If you wanna feel better about your family, just read about ours...

Starring: a dad, a mom, a son & daughter-in-law, a daughter & son-in-law, a teen, a tween, 1 grandson, 3 granddaughters, 3 dogs, and a whole lot of love.

Family Story Pic

Family Story Pic


Tuesday, December 31, 2019

Buck U

Let's get something clear right off the bat. I'm not qualified to commentate on the topic of football. That being said, I'm about to commentate on the topic of football.

Despite being a die-hard cheerleader, I don't sit down and watch football games. I read library books. People don't hire me to write articles on my opinions about football games and for good reason. But I do however write snarky recaps of reality shows and after sitting through the Ohio State/Clemson game Saturday night, it occurred to me that it's all basically the same thing.

Everybody seems to have an opinion about that game so I thought I'd throw in my unbiased 2 cents. To set the record straight, I am a Buckeyes fan simply because I married a Buckeye's fan, and for the sake of my marriage, when he yells, "O-H" I will obediently answer, "I-O!" I always hope they win, but only because that effects the rest of my day too, and the fact that my granddaughter's name is Scarlet Gray and I use her baby pictures to make inappropriate memes is irrelevant.

That being said, I had no stake in the Ohio State/Clemson game. And in my opinion, since I'm openly admitting to having zero comprehension of the rules of the game, much less knowing any names of the players, I think you can trust my unbiased observations on what went down at the PlayStation Fiesta Bowl that night.

Side note. While I was writing this, I literally had to text my husband and ask which Bowl game it was because, unbiased. And I literally replied, 'PlayStation Fiesta Bowl? WTH kind of lame bowl name is that?'

Seriously, do they just throw random words together and put Bowl at the end? Like, hey there you Ohio State and Clemson guys...you played games and stuff and you know who's known for games and stuff? Play Station. And it looked like you were having fun. Hey! Fiestas are fun. And voila. The PlayStation Fiesta Bowl was born. It sounds like the equivalent of a participation trophy bowl until your husband tells you that there's also a Bad Boy Mowers Gasparilla Bowl, a San Diego County Credit Union Holiday Bowl, and a Tony The Tiger Sun Bowl, which I can only assume is the bowl reserved for the teams who played GRRRRREAT!!!

Okay, if the names of the bowls are like little league t-shirts with the sponsor's name across the front, are you trying to tell me that Tony The Tiger sponsored a bowl? Let me stop you right there. I think you mean Frosted Flakes, which would make that The Cereal Bowl if we were to be accurate with the half-assed naming of the bowls.

And one more thing before we get to the game. Can we ask why the Ohio State end zone was rust orange? Was PlayStation too cheap to spring for red? Wonder what Tony The Tiger's budget was?

Ok. Onto the game. Seeing as I already admitted I know less than nothing about the technical game of football, I see no reason to discuss every play. I'll just focus on the highlights and keep my observations about the pivotal and controversial points of the game according to the reactions of my husband and son as they sat beside me watching.

1. The Buckeyes were winning pretty solidly except for a couple of missed touchdowns and they ended up kicking the ball instead. Only one of the missed touchdowns stands out to me, because the refs decided to "review the play" and noticed in super slow motion that the ball turned a little in the guy's hands in the end zone and so they reversed the original call on the field and took the touchdown away. That seems a bit unfair considering the guy was sliding across the grass on his head at the time, but, oooh, that ball moved a little. NO TOUCHDOWN FOR YOU. As one of the announcers pointed out, "That's why it's so important to review these plays in slow motion.
Remember that he said that. It'll be important later.

2. All that aside, things were going pretty well for Ohio State until their player with the long orange tipped hair got kicked out of the game because his helmet hit the Clemson quarterback in the face. In his defense, that quarterback is like 8 feet tall and from where I was sitting, it looked like he bent his face right into it. Also, it's football, so hitting people with your helmet seems like part of the game, unless of course you're the Clemson player whose helmet just rolled off willy nilly and he bonked his head on the ground. Dude. Don't they make straps for that? But he didn't get kicked out. I mean, the trainer took him away for a few minutes, but probably just to show him how to use the chin straps for future reference.

3. At one point, a short fast guy on the Buckeye team the announcers referred to as a bowling ball for some reason, hurt his ankle. It appeared that happened when a guy from Clemson grabbed onto it and was holding onto it for dear life while the poor bowling ball dragged him along. Probably targeted him, too, but did anyone review THAT play in slow motion? Nope.

4. This wasn't pivotal or anything, but needs to be addressed. Ohio State did something that had my guys laughing. I don't understand it and probably never will no matter how many times my husband tries to explain it to me. Something about a clap that made the Clemson team turn their heads to look at their coach and the Buckeyes barreled into them while they stood staring off to the side. I don't get it, but apparently it was legal, not to mention clever, and I'm a fan of clever.

5. Another moment for the Buckeyes happened when I noticed one of the Clemson players practically leap over a ref trying to bolt across the field to his sideline, but the Buckeyes started the play before he got off the field and Clemson was penalized for too many players on the field. Also clever, but seriously Clemson? When you know you're that short on time and you have to get off the field, just jump off on the Buckeye side. Maybe you could ask 'em about that sneaky sneak clap play while you're over there.

6. BUT THEN, the big terrible thing happened and nobody was laughing anymore. Clemson caught a pass, fumbled it, the Buckeyes picked it up, and scored a touchdown. The refs called it just like that, too. Until they decided to "review the play." While that happened, we were treated to a disagreement between the announcers. One announcer seemed to think that slow motion showed it exactly as the play was originally called on the field and that it should stand. But the other guy, the one who pointed out the importance of reviewing plays in slow motion, was suddenly saying, "Slow motion isn't always the most accurate way to determine these calls."

Whoa. Hold up. So you're saying that this time, slow motion should not be used because real time is more accurate and therefore, it should cost the Buckeyes a touchdown. Hey! Remember that time 3 quarters ago when you declared the infallibility of reviewing a play in slow motion and it cost the Buckeyes a touchdown? I bet Buckeye Nation does.

So the "powers that be in the replay center" finally made their decision. They decided that even though the guy was like, literally coming down with the ball in his hands and taking steps before he dropped it, that he didn't really catch the ball at all, so that means, when he dropped the ball, he wasn't really dropping the ball, because it doesn't matter what the replay shows. If you say he didn't really catch it in the first place, you get to say he didn't really drop it either, so they decided to change the call.  According to my husband, reversing an original call should only happen when review of the play unquestionably proves the call was a blatant mistake, but when even the announcers are debating what they're seeing, it makes it appear that the "powers that be in the replay center" might've been looking for an excuse change the original call.

*whispering* shhh...I think they might be democrats.

7. Just in case you suspect I'm Buckeye biased, I'm going to tell you something I'm not allowed to say in front of my husband. I like the Clemson quarterback. There, I said it. I liked how he patted the Buckeye players after plays and helped his guys up when they were down. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy and I truly believe he didn't mean to hit his face on the Buckeye guy's helmet and get him kicked out of the game. I was also happy to see him score a touchdown because his mom was there to see it and she deserves that. Plus, he looks like her and they're both really pretty, even though that has nothing to do with the game. This is me being impartial. You're welcome.

So there you have my unbiased observations. No matter what you believe about the Buckeye's mistakes or the ref's calls, the end result remains the same. The Buckeye's can hold their heads high knowing they played a pretty good first half of the game, the little bowling ball can finally rest his ankle, and Clemson will go on to play in the game known as, 'The College Football National Championship Presented by AT and T.' At least they chose a name that answers any and all questions so everybody's not left wondering, "But who is it presented by?"

As for me, I'll keep my day job...unless of course they want to hire me as a sideline commentator to represent the common folk who just want someone to ask about the obvious things until they fire me, which would happen the first game obviously, but like, which quarter? I would just be like, "Nice to meet everyone. Why's that guy's hair the same color as the end zone and who's that jerk announcer that can't seem to keep his biased opinions straight? I'll show myself out."

ESPN, call me.

Friday, December 20, 2019

Let It Go

Our lives were carrying on all normal and stuff...which is to say we were semi-successfully keeping our crazy away from the general public...and then Ron read me a text from one of his co-workers: "Your wife should be a princess."

Hellooo. Obvi. I didn't even need to know the context behind the statement.

Then he explained that they needed someone to be Elsa on their company float for the Christmas parade. I mean, of course I'll do it because it's basically what I've been training for my entire life, but I had some questions.
1. Will a costume be provided?
2. Are we going minimum or maximum cleavage?
3. Will I wear a wig or are we taking this in a new direction and introducing Badass Brunette Elsa to the community?

I'm fine with whatever y'all decide because I don't micromanage.

A few days later, he answered my questions. A costume will be provided. No wig necessary, because it's a bobble head Elsa.

Soooo. Follow up question. what the hell is a bobble head Elsa? He answered, "I don't know, but she said it's hideous."

I didn't know who "she" was and quite frankly, it didn't matter. Hideous? I'm gonna make my princess debut as a hideous Elsa?

But I'd already agreed to it, so I'd do it, and just be grateful that no one would know who was under the bobble head. And this was no longer my official princess debut, just so we're clear.

Fast forward to the morning of the parade when one of my Zumba friends asked me what I was doing that weekend and I reluctantly told her about the parade and hideous bobble head Elsa. And then she changed the course of my day...and maybe my life...by telling me her daughter-in-law has a real Elsa costume that I could borrow, complete with wig. Also a fur cover for warmth which meant zero cleavage, but beggars can't be choosers, am I right?

And so began the rush to prepare. Watching Elsa eye make-up youtube tutorials while I awkwardly tried to follow along, finding out I needed false eyelashes, so a mad dash to the local Family Dollar, and then attempting to follow the step by step instructions before quickly coming to the realization that applying false eyelashes falls under the category of 'crafts' so profanity entered the picture.

No princess is perfect.

Finally, I picked up the costume, came back home, carefully put on the wig...and then waited for my client to arrive because I'm a massage therapist and I had no reason to think I should cancel an appointment, because believe it or not, becoming Elsa- Ice Princess, wasn't originally on my to-do list that day. So yeah. A guy got massaged by Elsa, whether he liked it or not, and I'd just as soon not know whether he liked it or not.

It can't get any more embarrassing than that, right?
Hold my wig.

No sooner had I completed his massage, I heard honking outside. I looked out to see the UPS truck parked at the end of our long driveway surrounded by our dogs barking at him while he leaned out the door motioning for me to come to him to get my package. Please, God, no. That hideous bobble head was sounding pretty good as he witnessed Elsa- Ice Princess running barefoot down the driveway while he didn't even try to hide the look on his face. When I offered up a quick out-of-breath explanation, he interrupted me with, "It's cool. I don't need to know."

Well, good, cuz I didn't want to tell you anyway. Now if you could please quickly drive away before you see the guy come out of my house and pay me, that'd be best for everyone involved.

So it can't get more embarrassing than that, right?
You should probably stop asking. We're just gettin' started.

Now it's time to go pick up my grandson from preschool, because we're heading straight to the parade from there. The Pre-school pick-up policy is that you park at the front of the loooong line of cars and when the preschool teacher brings out the little ones, she'll wait until the adult gets out of their vehicle and approaches so that she knows who the child is going home with.

So where do we begin with all the potential problems here?

Elsa stepping out of a mini-van in front of a parking lot full of witnesses, thus landing me on youtube somewhere. Again. The potential mob as little girls realize that Elsa is on the property at the peak of the release of Frozen 2. The possibility that my grandson won't recognize me, clings to his teacher when I tell him to get in the van, and the authorities become involved. Because if Ace doesn't recognize me, there's no hope Miss Becky will.

So I did what I thought was best. I stayed hidden in my van, gambling on the fact that Ace will recognize my van, and if Miss Becky ever wanted to go home, she'd have no choice but to bring him to me. And that's eventually exactly what happened. And when the van door slid open I saw it register on both of their faces that Sassy was Elsa and Elsa was Sassy. Miss Becky laughed and laughed. Ace, on the other hand, was not amused in any way and as we drove away, he asked, "Sassy, can you please not do that anymore?"

Poor little guy. Only been around for 5 years, so he really has no idea what he's in for.

On the way to the parade, I felt Caymen staring at me. I turned to her and in my most charming Disney princess voice, snapped, "WHAT???" She jumped and then hesitantly said, "You know Elsa's white like snow, right? You're more...bronze...like sand." I glanced at myself in the rearview mirror. "So what's wrong with a tan Elsa? I'm a healthier beachy-er Vitamin D Elsa, which doesn't justify your disapproving face here."

When we arrived at the warehouse where the float was being decorated, things got awkward.
Wait, you thought things were already awkward? Are you new here or something?

I walked in to the crowded warehouse in full-on Italian Elsa, to the appalled looks of everyone, mainly my husband. That's when I was informed that I was going to be required to wear the bobble head. Why? Because Elsa had to match Anna and Olaf, who were also wearing bobble heads. Which only goes to show that not everyone was as fully invested in this as I was.

Sooo...you wanna make Elsa mad...have you even seen the movie?
Before I could begin freezing things with my fake-lashed ice glares, Ron pulled me aside and whispered, "No one asked you to do...*pauses and looks me up and down*...this."
Well then let me refresh your memory. HIDEOUS. So, THIS, should be self-explanatory.

I'll spare you the details of the angry whispered conversation, and maybe a few tears. (Wasn't my fault he cried, either.) I wore the bobble head...and stood on the top of a float pulled behind a truck being driven by Ron, which means bobble head Elsa, who couldn't see a damn thing out of her bobble head face, was but one hard brake away from tumbling to an embarrassing death in a Christmas parade at the hands of her own husband. A fitting end to the story, if you ask me. But the only bad thing that happened was getting frostbite in my hand. We'll just chalk that up to staying in character because going above and beyond is what I do. Obvi.

To be perfectly fair, the bobble head wasn't really hideous...I mean, for a bobble head...and in retrospect, maybe bobble head Elsa was more believable than The Soprano's Elsa, and probably slightly less scary.

The bottom line is, all good came from this entire saga, despite my husband's feelings on the matter. Or my grandson's. My client. The UPS guy. Okay, mostly good came from this entire saga. I got a picture on a float with two of my grandkids aaaaand twelve hours after posting that picture on my facebook page, I got a message from one of our pastors: 'Shari- How are you at acting?' Funny you should ask...

Guess who's The Virgin Mary in our church's Christmas Eve Eve Service? They said they'd provide the costume. Ron thinks I should go ahead and let them do that.

Give me some credit. I'm not gonna go rogue with the Virgin Mary costume. Unless of course it's hideous.