Monday, March 13, 2006
Monday Lite: Path Of Least Resistance
All kinds of momentous shit happening today. Nothing that affects me directly, but there is an air of general business not ordinarily associated with your typical Monday. This means I have very little time.
a) Hooray for my alma mater's women's basketball team winning their conference tournament and qualifying for the NCAA Tournament. Even though they suck and they have been nationally ranked at about #203 out of all national Division 1 NCAA women's basketball programs, the rules say if you win the conference tournament, they HAVE to let you in. Ha ha, NCAA and your stupid rules! It's almost enough to make me give a shit about 1) college basketball and 2) women's college basketball. It's not that I have anything against women, it's just that there's no money in women's sports. I'm suspicous of any form of athletics that doesn't operate on a day-to-day set of assumptions and regular practices that don't directly contradict their stated purposes and ideals. And you people wonder why I like baseball so much...
b) My kitchen floor is very slippery. It's not wet or anything, it's just super-extra friction-free for some reason. Two of my kids and my mother have all come very close to wiping out on it already. I don't know how it happened, but if NASA is looking for some kind new frictionless surface with which to coat the newest prototype replacement space shuttles, apparently they must do as follows: 1) get some crappy linoleum, preferably some ugly old stuff you'd like very much to replace but can't afford to because you spent all your money just to get into the goddamned house in a ridiculously overpriced market 2) Have kids spill some kind of juice on it 3) Have people walk around in it until it becomes mixed with dirt and makes a nice sticky adhesive and possibly a pattern of grime in the shape of the Virgin Mary and then 4) clean it up with a sponge (no soap, just water).
That's it. That's the trick, apparently. This may be my last blogpost as every time I go into the kitchen, I do a Jennifer Garner-at-the-Oscars-like check-step stumble. Not only is the floor slippery, but I guess that's what I get for wearing a ball-gown at all times. It's only a matter of time before it all catches up with me and I split my head open.
This post on the Narcissus Scale: 9.9