Friday, January 2, 2009

Liveblogging The Pistons Game

Since I've been [obsessing] talking about it for so long, I thought it would be fun to liveblog the day of the basketball game (tonight at 8pm). Warning: it's long. Who knew this was so much fun?

-Crikey, I woke up late. I need to wash clothes to have something to wear for the men of my dreams.
-My mom and sister were supposed to leave like a half hour ago. Why are they still here? WHY am I still in bed?
-Urgh. A lotta laundry to carry downstairs.
-General Hospital's on. Damn, it must be past three o'clock. Oops.
-Colors safely in the wash. Hungry. A Pop-Tart seems good.
-Oh, never mind. Here's the last one. Scrumptious.
-Still hungry. Contemplate eating donut as well.
-Compromise by eating half a donut and some orange juice instead. Why am I not 300 lbs? Have no idea.
-Oh, dear. My hair needs...doing. Plug in flat-iron.
-Check e-mail while waiting. Nothing good.
-What am I going to wear tonight? Make sister Google pictures of Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens at Lakers games for ideas.
-All pictures are of couples. Will not feel bad today--have FIVE men waiting for me.
-Perform ablutions. I feel nauseous. WTF? Maybe Pop-Tart/donut/toothpaste idea was not a winning one.
-Ever notice that when you feel the least bit queasy, your imagination immediately brings up things that really do disgust you?
-Am making self sick. Must stop.
-Saw an episode of CSI that said smiling suppresses the gag reflex. Am grinning like an idiot to beat churning stomach.

-Find pictures of Sophia Bush online. She is a cute, compact little person even leaving a nail salon. Why can't I be a cute, compact little person??
-Am too tall, curvy, and hate ironing, is why.

-Tried to flat-iron hair. Lose interest after first two strokes. Persevere. Satisfied with half/various sections tended to.
-Put second load of laundry in. Might just be on schedule after all.
-Ever since I pulled my computer back from the brink of death I have no full CDs on my ITunes. I thought I wouldn't mind at first but I do. Must begin tedious task of loading them onto my Ipod.
-CD case is downstairs and I am not. Perhaps another day, then.
-This is the first Pistons game I've gone to not wearing ceremonial attire. -Am SO unprepared. All the celebs are [with their boyfriends] wearing high heels. Lent my Manolo's to Beyonce so am out of luck on that front. Plus it snowed last night--it's cold, dammit.
-Except try as I might to think otherwise, wearing a dress and heels to a sporting event reeks of Trying Too Hard and brands you as one of THOSE girls who have no idea what's going on in the game.
-Surely there must be a happy medium.
-I'm going to wear my new purple boots. Festive, not fussy.
-Nothing in my wardrobe matches purple boots. What was I THINKING?
-Gray t-shirt, skinny jeans, purple boots. Option #1.
-John Travolta's 16-year-old son sad...
-Skinny jeans are in the dryer still. I never put them in the dryer, but I needed them to wear tonight. What if they're not dry in time? What if they SHRINK?
-Run downstairs.
-30 minutes left on dryer. Sigh. Plus, all my good bras are still wet. Why can't I wake up early like a responsible adult? Why?
On second thought, where did that gray t-shirt come from? Look closer.
-Oh, damn, forgot. That's not a regular t-shirt, that's a XXL "Property of Clemson Athletics" shirt I bought last week! Damn!
-Maybe I'll just go naked. Anyone? Anyone?
-Purple stripey sweater, skinny jeans, purple boots. Option #2.
-Garage door opens. Who's that? Mom. Might not be too happy with my lack of progress.
-Quickly run downstairs to get makeup.
-Not Mom, it's Dad. Says we must leave by 6:45. It is 5:20 and I'm in pajamas, Middle Sister's not home, Little Sister is still in a towel. This might not end well.
-I WILL us to make it on time.
-Where is my phone??
-Oh, here on the kitchen table. Typical.
-Grab dry pants, leave everything else in laundry room.
-Yum, jeans straight out of the dryer are nice and toasty.
-Oof, but tight.
-Ok, skinny jeans with sweater and knee high boots...looks kind of...tawdry...
-Am convinced I look ok. Harass sisters for 2nd and 3rd opinions. They cosign.
-All leave house, pile into car ahead enough of schedule to swing by McDonald's.
-Mmmm chicken nuggets.
-Damn, that's a lot of traffic. For a good cause, though. Go 'Stones!
-$10 for parking is highway robbery.
-We're heeeeeeeere!
-This parking lot is huge...Gawd, it's cold.
-My sisters don't like my boots. Say they would have told me but I was too busy running around saying things like "People, people, why are we not dressed?" and "Come on, now, time is money!"
-Am now self-conscious.
-And in slightly bad mood.
-No line at Will Call. Sweet.
-Will Call Lady taking absurdly long time finding our tickets. I ordered them, I swear I did! Ohmygod if this goes wrong I will be soo embarrassed not to mention pissed off--$10 parking!--where are those tickets?!
-Whew. She found them.
-My extraordinary planning skills have gotten us ticket package with gift cards to concession stands.

-Still annoyed about poor outfit choice.
-Hmm, seats aren't bad. High, but good view.
-Game starts...YAY fireworks and "The Final Countdown!"
-Am slightly misty-eyed.
-Wipe eyes under pretense of scratching nose.
-Go to bathroom at halftime, scrutinize outfit, leave confused. Do I look ok or not?
-Want to ask stranger. Refrain and slink to concessions.
-Yick. Soft pretzel tastes disappointingly like plain old bread.
-Little Sister gives me her ice cream. All is forgiven.
-Drunken people in the row below are looking to "get the party started." Amusing.
-Great second half, scream loudly. Sing along to "Shout" and participate in The Wave.
-Middle Sister even gets into game.
By Jove, I think we've got it!
-Game's getting close. "The Final Countdown" plays again! Rodney Stuckey has 38 points!
-We win, exit happily.
-Unceremonious drive home, thinking next time will just say "sod it" and wear t-shirt and jeans after all.
-Rifle through drawers at home, find Pistons nightshirt. Shirt big enough to be pretend boyfriend's instead of last year's Christmas present from auntie.
-Little Sister begs to watch a movie. Wrestling is involved as method of persuasion.
-Fashion Student calls. The girls are going to Canada tomorrow evening. Am going along. Will not get drunk--have no money for hotel and must come home same night.
-Soak cartilage piercing in salt water. Have been bad, have not done so in days.
-It stings a little. Am worried.
-Lean over sink studying ear in mirror. Gasp dramatically. Piercing looks gross! Am worried even more.
-Google "infected cartilage piercing."
-Yahoo Answers extremely reassuring.
-Sigh with relief: must not take earring out under any circumstance (prospect of wasting $55 scarier than prospect of ear falling off).
-Resolve to see doctor upon returning to school: want to avoid "should not have done it in the first place" lecture from mother. Surely stern "tut, tut" sounds will be made.
-Am watching "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days." Kate Hudson another cute, compact person. With annoyingly cute little Knicks jersey.
-More feelings of inferiority.
-In movie, fictional Knicks are playing fictional Sacramento Kings--I totes just saw them a few hours ago! Fictional because a) the actors are so clearly not the actual players and 2) the Knicks and Kings would never play in the Finals.
-Wish for future job to include rooftop martinis during workday.
-Remember do not like vodka. But perhaps afternoon tequila is too much to ask for.
-"Put a muzzle on your old lady the next time you bring her in public!"
-Wonder why Matthew McConaghey attempts to nuzzle in Kate's breasts when she OBVIOUSLY has none. But I sympathize.
-MM is still sexy.
-"A woman loves a man who can cook." I guess.
-Fictional Sportscenter referred to Earl Monroe. I met him last year! Earl the Pearl!

I would continue but I feel like liveblogging a movie is worthy of a whole separate post. Plus Little Sister keeps giving me the side-eye for typing during "our time," so I must bid y'all adieu. She has a hefty kick for someone of her size.

Totals: 2 loads of laundry complete, 1 amazing basketball game, 2 dejected purple boots, 1 possibly infected ear.


DBaby said...

as uninterested as I am in sports, I am interested in your life. So, I enjoyed this post immensely. Well played. And I wanna see the purple boots, I wouldn't feel like a good friend if I didn't give my

Lucky said...

I'm glad, I had fun writing it.

The boots have an awkward heel: too high to be flats but are too low to be really cool...