Friday Friday Friday!

So tonight we're going to hang out with friends at our local place, Chili Pepe's, drink margaritas and veg. A good time should be had by all. I am kind of headache-y right now, so I'm planning a nap before the festivities begin. Perhaps I will read one of my scholarly articles in order to bring on said nap. :) That way, I can say I have worked on the dissertation today, too!

Last night we went to a Missions baseball game. It was fun-- I made up a margarita for myself, sort of-- they only had beer & nasty wine and since I don't like beer, it looked grim for any refreshing beverage choices. But they DID have a "do it yourself" flavoring sno cone stand. They put the ice all cone-y for you and you added flavor. They had a bottled "faux" margarita-- you know, like the wine coolers (Seagrams & stuff). So I got "sno cone" ice, and the poured my margarita in it. Very nice. Especially with a splash of strawberry sno-cone flavoring.

The game was about half over by the time we got there (and we actually weren't even that late) but we had excellent seats just behind home plate and down by the action. Missions eventually won-- yay home team! There was this one guy who was yelling very loudly at both teams. We really thought he should have volunteered himself as coach cause he knew sooooo much about what the players ought to do. I was pretty sure from the expression on her face that the woman who was unfortunately seated next to said loud guy with too many 1.00 beers under his belt felt that he ought to offer his services to someone else-- far, far away.

There was also an event where a pop up fly came zipping over and, for a few minutes, looked suspiciously like it was going to conk either me or my sister right on the head. We stared at it (surely like a couple of....girls) and it bounced just behind us and went flying away. I felt like that scene in Daria where she stares at the volleyball with all the interest of a cat looking at a broom & mop (as in: none, or pretending that the cat doesn't even actually see the cleaning appliances) and then halfheartedly reaches for the ball. Try to catch the foul ball? Are you kidding me?

Nope. I am not really that sort of athlete. If you want me to lead the team in a stretch beforehand, maybe get them doing some aerobics or ab work-- fine. I can handle that. But don't count on me to catch those baseballs for you.

Besides, isn't that what those fellas with the cute butts and little baseball hats that chew all that gum and/or tobacco are paid to do? I mean, they can't be just paid to sit in the hole in the ground and run around a big diamond sketched in the dirt all night, can they?

Okay then. Off to the napping.