“Football players, like prostitutes, are in the business of ruining their bodies for the pleasure of strangers.” –Merle Kessler

There have been so many posts that have been written, just none that have been posted. I may or may not post some of them. Others, well they will never hit the blog but will possibly be printed and put in the journal . . . too much information in them that should be hidden away forever.

Life has been busy. I spent last weekend at home in St. George. Mom had a pace maker put in and so we thought that we would all go and see if we started the microwave if she would pee. Yeah, it doesn’t work. Hey at least we are good for a laugh and laughter is the best medicine. I don’t think that the hospital staff found us as hysterical as we know we are.

For instance, only in my family would this happen . . . we were all sitting in the hospital room and my sister was feeding her baby a bottle of formula. The formula kept clogging the bottle for some reason so that it wasn’t flowing smoothly and upsetting my nephew. My dad looked at my brother who was the closest to my sister and said, “Brian grab the nipple and rub it” (meaning the bottle nipple of course) but my brother reached up with a purely innocent look on his face and with both his thumbs and pointer fingers grabbed his own nipples and started rubbing them while saying, “yeah that does feel better.” All of us, including my dad, burst out laughing. Yeah that is how we roll at our house. One had better have thick skin and a great sense of humor to hang out around us and not get offended.

Anyway in case you haven’t stopped reading after that lovely story, Mom is doing well. We had to keep reminding her that she had to love us because she helped to create us. I didn’t know that a pace maker caused memory loss . . . or maybe that is just old age. Just kidding Mom! Love you!

Last Thursday before heading down home I attended the opening game of the season for University of Utah football. Go Utes! I brought a roll of duct tape knowing that Lewis had run for 1799 yards last year as a freshman. I was incredibly impressed that I didn’t even have to pull it out of my purse. As is typical, our defense is strong, steady and ready to hold (and win the game if they have to).

There were mixed emotions running through me going to this game. I knew there would be questions and I knew I wasn’t ready to answer them . . . so running my own defense, I didn’t. The only thing that really threw me and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry was the first penalty against Pitt. From behind me I heard, “beep, beep, beep, beep, beep . . . back that trash up.” I turned with a smile on my face and was greeted with a high five and the comment, “hey it’s tradition, we have to keep up tradition.” Agreed. I have to admit that I probably have the best seats in the stadium.

All of my male clients still think that it is amazing that I can talk football with the best of them. They are now calling and emailing me for my opinion on games. They find it fascinating that I love the game as much (if not more) than they do. There is a new processor at one of the offices and he just found out about my love of football. After a lengthy email conversation about the game he wrote, “Wow! It is so awesome to be talking to a girl that is so knowledgeable about the game. I’d come over there and kiss you if I weren’t married.” Just another one of my unusual quirks that makes me weird . . . and no he wouldn’t.