Cultural Fable

Here is my favorite short story; it's by Brian Andreas -

"Cultural Fable"-
Once upon a time there was a pig who spoke eight languages & did sculpture with pieces of wood & rusted metal he found on his travels. One day he was out in the woods working on a new installation piece & he met a family from a small town in Tennessee. They had been walking for days. The dad saw the pig & said what are you doing, little piggie? They were all quite surprised when the pig said working with counterbalanced forces using found objects. They all stood around & looked at the piece for a long time. No one said anything. Finally, the dad shrugged & turned to the mom & said I don't know much about art but I know what I like & then they killed the pig & ate him.

Personally, I don't really like pork all that much, but I would have eaten this pig anyway.

"Tight with the Holy Spirit"

I am weird and apparently have some hidden religious fanaticism in me. One of my Environmental Law classmates and I were emailing about the upcoming exam, and at the end of his email he wrote something like "Send some prayers my way when the exam comes around." Completely normal. I respond to his email thinking that I am being equally as normal...then a couple days later I am going through my sent mail and I see the email I wrote; it ended with "I'll send some prayers your way... I am tight with the Holy Spirit like you wouldn't believe (Ok, that's a lie, but my Grandma totally is)"

UM, WHAT? I guess I was trying to be funny, but A) that's not really funny at all (and you'd have to know my Grandma, which he does not) and B) THAT IS SO WEIRD... I AM SO WEIRD. And the craziest part is, I thought I was being completely normal when I wrote it. I wish I could say I was drunk or something, but nope, I am a just out there.

Come to think of it, the Holy Spirit is kinda the left out member of the Trinity. You hear people all the time thanking God and Jesus... you never hear an athlete thanking the Holy Spirit. If you're gonna single out members of the Trinity, at least give them equal time. Maybe my subconscious was just giving the Holy Spirit his due. Or more likely, I am just crazy...for which I'd like to thank Jesus.

Cursed

Yes, I do realize that this is the third day in a row I have posted, which officially makes me a huge loser, but this is what staying at my parents' house for a few days does to me. If I am at my computer it looks like I am doing homework and no one bothers me... at least for a few minutes.

Anyway, I think I am cursed when it comes to rooting for sports teams. I know that every Philadelphia sports fan in the world feels the same way, but I am convinced that I have an extra-bad case. Seriously, if you really want a team to win, invite me over and convince me that I should root for the other team. It's a sure-fire recipe for a W. The Eagles should just call it a season and forfeit the rest of the games to avoid having anyone else get hurt. The Sixers were good just long enough to get my hopes up, only to have them disappoint me once again. I know it is early in the season, and while I still think we might make the playoffs, it'd only be to lose in the first round once again... But even with teams that I don't really care that much about, if I root for them they lose. Football and basketball have been on our tv constantly since I got home, and I don't think a single team that I wanted to win actually has - trust me, that's a lot of losses. For example, last weekend I went to watch the Ohio State/Michigan game with a Michigan alum friend of mine. So in support of him, I was cheering for Michigan to defeat THE Ohio State Univeristy (what is the The all about anyway?), which of course meant a win for the Buckeyes. Sorry Dave, but hey at least our speculation over whether or not the OSU student body can actually count to 42 is over...

Maybe my brothers are right - girls shouldn't be watching sports anyway.

Good Luck, Coach

Tomorrow my little brother starts his coaching career at Burlington City High School. If you are from the area, you are probably laughing already - it's not exactly in the best of neighborhoods. I, however, am willing to provide you with a few more reasons to laugh when thinking of my dear, dear brother coaching basketball. Don't get me wrong, he's an awesome athlete and was torn between playing hoops or soccer in college before ultimately choosing soccer. As a certified physical education teacher, according to the books, he is more than qualified for the position. But, to those of us that know him well, this is going to be hysterical. My brother is smart but irresponsible. For example, he is a driver's ed. teacher but doesn't really obey too many traffic laws. This summer he got his ankle replaced with cadavor parts, so couldn't work soccer camps as he planned -- So instead of trying to get a desk job, he convinced my parents to get a plasma tv and digital cable and sat home all day watching movies from one of the thousand movie channels. He spent his entire savings at the bar with his friends, which he hobbled to on his crutches (and after a few drinks would start to play air guitar on them all too often.) Needless to say, this lifestyle didn't bode well for his athletic figure, and as my mom said, "no one is going to hire a fat gym teacher." Just last night, I had to take his whistle away from him at the bar before I left in fear that it would get him kicked out (as it has before) with no one there to drive his ass home.

Some reasons "Coach" is going to be amusing:

• His white-boy ghetto talk is only going to get worse.
• He is already practicing the head in the hand, head shaking "no" in disappointment thing.
  
• I have no idea how he will ever make a Saturday morning practice - I don't think he has seen a Saturday morning since he was in high school himself.
• His happy-hour routine with the teachers is going to have to take a back seat for a few months... or he'll have to start scheduling post-happy-hour practices
• None of his players are going to find his Caddyshack/Zoolander/Any number of drunk college kid movies sense of humor very funny.
• They also won't find his die-hard-can't-lose-ever-even-if-it-means-giving-up-your-first-born, attitude very funny either.
• The kid loves his whistle waaay too much (power trip, maybe?)
  

Softball

This weekend my law school slow-pitch softball team lost in the championship game. Heartbreaking? Eh, not really. I was much more upset that I had to miss the Sixers game so my team would have enough girls to play. The Sixers beat the Heat (minus Shaq). Kyle Korver (my future husband) scored 22 points off the bench. I play catcher for my softball team. For those of you unfamiliar with slow-pitch softball, this position belongs to the worst person on the team. I caught a few foul balls and got on base once or twice on overthrown balls...a true "contributor" to my team's successes. So I'm no Kyle Korver - OK, not even a Shavlick Randolph, but that's not stopping me from getting a "RU Legal - 2006 Rutgers Law Softball Runners Up" tattoo on my other side of my rib cage with the corresponding scales of justice. (Yes, RU Legal is the very mature name of my softball team).

In completely unrelated news - the girl in front of me at the convenience store just bought rolling papers, three bars of chocolate and condoms... I am not kidding. Seems like she has a much more interesting night planned than my night of Environmental Law reading and T.V.