Backstage Escapades

Hey kids.

I finally have a new comp, but I've been busy as hell so my updates still might be few and far between. Don't abandon me. I feel like good stuff is right around the corner and you won't want to have to jump back and re-read little tidbits when the juicy stuff starts, right? Right.

Note: I feel like my words are boring already! I haven't written in awhile so bear with me.

I started my internship with NBA team, and it's...different than the WNBA, that's for sure. Besides the players being men, I mean. Everything's a little more high-paced, a little more secure, a little more intense. But the food is better.

There is another intern, we'll call him Que (because he is one). We get along pretty well, sometimes he's a little slooooooww-moving for my taste but he's cool.

Know what I look forward to, nay, relish? GROUPIES. Yes, the stuff Billie Jeans are made of! The team had a fan event today, actually, open to the public, and yes, there were a few in the bunch. This one girl had her boobs out distracting everyone from her fug face and a long weave; I noticed her quietly flirting with one of the guys. I saw them out of my peripheral vision, and my gossip radar kicked into high gear, honey. She was spittin' game and he was reciprocating, and yes, contact info was exchanged. This woman wrote down her contact info for everything: I'm talking address, email, phone numbers...I witnessed a proverbial groupie exchange with mine own four eyes. Now, I'm sure the players don't follow through on every number that they get, but still. These people are thirsty, Lord.

You know what I did the first chance I got. Scampered over to Que and spilled all the tea.*

*Tea: Noun. Means gossip, news, or current situation (Girl, what's your tea? or I got some tea you won't believe!)

This all leads me to another point (y'all know I have an issue about everything). I don't condone desperation or outright gold-digging, and a lot of the time I can't believe players fall for this stuff (well, they're just looking for a good time. It's the girls who want more). But still, watching players or guys in general fall over these pretty yet fake women eventually takes a toll on the old ego. Not saying I expected anything (I'm in this business because I like sports, not because I'm looking for a husband, obvs) but it's just...weird...like you're invisible. I can't explain it without sounding like I want something from these guys, but...hmm...those girls make regular girls like me look frumpy and fug. There, I said it.

I HAVE ISSUES I KNOW. They don't cover this in the internship handbook because it's so taboo and I don't want to ask because players' "love lives" are unspoken and very few peoples' business. Plus, most of the workers are middle-aged white men. I'd like to find someone, a young attractive black female who works in sports. I have questions.

All that aside, though, this is a great gig. Fun, and Que and I have become adept at finagling free stuff. It's an art.

Fall is Here!

I love me some autumn. My birthday is in November, along with homecoming, trips to the cider mill, changing leaves, and best of all, the following:

Naps-nothing better than coming in from the cold, bundling up in sweatpants and furry socks, fixing a snacky-snack, and falling asleep in front of the TV, mid-afternoon. Absolutely nothing. The fact that I'm super-busy come fall and rarely have time to do this make it even sweeter.

Sports-Playoff baseball is actually the only kind I watch (Go Dodgers), but the NBA is my first love. Followed by college football, que claro. After around Halloween, there's pretty much always a game of either persuasion. And if I wake up kinda late, and I can just turn on the TV and let the lull of the Florida Gators or LA Lakers rouse my into consciousness. Like watching by osmosis.

Fall fashion-Ugg boots! Peacoats! Scarves! Flannel shirts! Layers of lovely clothes make me happy and keep me nice and toasty. Yummm and hot chocolate.

TV shows-a lot of my fall happiness rests on what's on TV, it seems. Alls I know is that the return of Gossip Girl, Grey's Anatomy, the Office and One Tree Hill (if it stops being dumb) equals a whole lotta WIN.

Cuddling-what better way to watch aforementioned TV and ward off said cold than with some good old fashioned body heat? It is a fact that men are warmer because they have more muscle mass which raises body temperature. I'm just trying to cut down on my heat bill, is all I'm saying.

Plus, fall backwards--more sleep! Amen.

Moving On, cont'd

I just deleted Tex's phone number. Yay for me. Scoff if you will, but I like to think it's another way of me looking out for my star (fucking) player.

Game time.

Super Sunday

I am not woman enough to liveblog the entire Super Bowl, but before I do my part as an American and tune in to The Big Game, I must say this:

JENNIFER HUDSON ABSOLUTELY SANG THAT SHIT.

Why, I almost cried. I definitely had to clutch my pearls on that one.

That is all.

Blogversary Delayed

Hey, all.

Happy anniversary to me! I am that girlfriend who is too busy to remember her anniversary. Shame on me. But mama's got to bring home the bacon! That's right, people. As of yesterday's frantic filling out of W-4s and Direct Deposit slips, Lucky walks amongst the employed. Even better: it's a totally cool job--I work for a major sports league website. When you go to a team's website and see the little game blurb, there's a good chance that me or someone I work with wrote it! Which also means I have the horrid task of having League Pass at my disposal, and having to/getting to watch any game that's on.

Le sigh. Life is not easy.

Tonight, I promise I will write a proper post about What This Blog Means To Me etc etc and in order to do it justice it need not be written on a public computer in the middle of a school day when my cover can be blown.

Until tonight, mon amies!

Pre-Holiday Rambling

Grievances:

-Sometimes you are a selfish brat who deserves a good, hard, pinch.
-Please, just...be quiet and let me do me.
-You did that just to fuck with me, didn't you? You smarmy, hateful bastard, you.
-We take you for granted and kind of treat you bad, but I love you more than words can say.

Okay. Glad THAT's over with. Because today was a good day and airing out my grievances is just a small part of it. Let's see...Youngest Sister, my mom, and I got our hair done today which...took awhile. Freshly blow-dried, my hair takes on an unfortunate mullet personality. Also, I realized all of my jeans are about a size too big. They were loose even before I lost five pounds--which, by some Christmas miracle, I totally did--because I have a habit of buying clothes, especially pants, a leeetle too big. They fit adequately in the store, then as I wear and wear and wear them, they start to droop and get baggy. Like, there is one pair I can put on without unbuttoning them. Jeans are supposed to be a bit tight when you try them on 'cause they stretch, but because I have a fear of Dunlap's disease, when I try on a pair of pants I suddenly get a whatiftheyshrinkandIlooklikeasausage panic attack and go up a size, which means I have a closet full saggy jeans. The next time I go to Old Navy I'm going to have to force myself to get a pair that fits fits. Clearly my issues extend far and wide, even into purchasing denim. This is why I like sweatpants.

Perhaps I lost those five pounds trekking through the neighborhood [ok, I took Precious the dog for a walk last week], which is less like a friendly subdivision and more like evil, mountaneous, snowy terrain these days. It won't stop snowing! It has snowed every day since Thursday night--which makes driving or walking outside a nice [dangerous and kind of scary] adventure worthy of only my Ugg boots as suitable footwear. But secretly, it's kind of fun to walk/lunge/jump/stomp through 2 feet of snow. Plus, it's so pretty outside, from the warmth of a house, to look out and see houses lit up against the fluffy white backdrop like a snowglobe.

A few weeks ago, I guess my dad started reading Magic Johnson's book about how he makes his money (here's the key, people: ownership. Think big.) and really liked it. Dad's always been a Magic fan--they were even at Michigan State together (at the signing, Magic had on a MSU sweatshirt). This evening, Dad and I braved the snow and went to Barnes and Noble where No. 32 himself was signing books. Well, the newspaper said he'd only sign books, but Magic was such a good sport that he signed shirts, magazines, basketballs, etc--seriously, some people had like 12 books, and Magic signed them all. I told him I was a Sports Journalism major, and he was impressed (like every other male is when I tell them that) and he posed for a picture with Dad and I. It was funny because both him and Dad are super-tall so I stood in the middle. He's cool people--add him next to Mark Texiera (how about those Yankees?), Gayle Sayers, and Joe Torre on the list of Really Nice Sports Guys. And yes, I am name-dropping. Deal with it.

Sidebar: a lot of people were wearing Pistons gear like, "especially" to meet Magic, and I was just thinking, um why? It's not like he played for Detroit. And I mean, come on, Pistons vs Lakers is a CLASSIC rivalry. Derr.

Speaking of the Pistons, I cannot effing wait to go to the game. If I think about it too much I'll pass out from excitement. Even though they have work to do in this nasty transition period. But here is the mark of a true fan: you don't disappear when things get tough. And right now, things are tough.

Sidebar: I'm watching the Pistons game right now (we won, thank God), but why does the camera follow a player until RIGHT before he takes his jersey off as he heads into the locker room? Just to mess with us, that's why.

Last night, I stayed up until 5am browsing shirts, jackets, underwear, nightgowns, and jewelry that I can't exactly afford at the moment. Why I torture myself, I have no idea. I actually kind of hate buying clothes, to be truthful. I think I might start buying clothes online and get the twofold bonus of a) saving myself a headache and 2) getting packages in the mail. The idea of clothes makes me happy but I am soooo not a fashion girl. I'd rather buy books, makeup, bargain bin DVDs, or, um, food. Oooooh...food...like bubble tea and chocolate cake, yum...

In case you haven't noticed, I'm going through a bit of a snit with my writing (the snit being that I think it sucks) so we'll just have to make do with these posts until I Find Myself. I think I've been lost for awhile.