Stat girls

With all the football talk in the news, it gets me thinking about how I got into liking football in the first place.  My mom (who was a P.E. minor in college I might add) sat me down at the kitchen table, drew a picture of a football field and taught me Football 101.  I knew a few terms- touchdown, first down, interception. But I didn't know the rules.  I didn't grow up in a home where football was watched all that often, unless it was the Huskies playing the Cougars.  Heck, I didn't even know until college that there was a game on TV every Thanksgiving.  My family actually talks to each other and plays cards around the table after the glutenous meal.  Go figure.

So why the need to know the rules to football???  Because I was intercepted by a coach and asked to be a "stat girl".  <pun fully intended>
 
My freshman year of high school had started out great.  I had already been to band camp (in my hs band was cool...really it was. i promise), already met lots of upperclassmen, and was getting attention from a few of them.  So when I got asked to watch the football team's every move, I jumped at the chance. Especially because they also asked my very best friend Katie.  I remember telling the coach that I totally knew/loved football butts in uniforms.   But in reality, I had no idea what really went on during the game. Well, besides cheering when we got a touchdown. 

Basically, the coaches wanted two girls to look at to take notes during the game so they could call in the stats of the game to the local paper to print in the next day's Sports section. They told us our stats didn't have to be exactly correct, but hopefully something close.  One of us was to take Offensive Notes, and the other Defensive.  I chose or was given (not sure which) defensive.  Thank goodness, because the offensive side of things demanded more attention than I wanted to give. I was too busy checkin out butts in tight pants.  My job (besides flirting with the players) was to mark down all tackles and sacks, and to record how far all kickoffs/punts and their returns were.  Katie had the much tougher job (in my opinion) recording all the offensive moves.  She had to mark down who threw to what guy, and how far that guy ran or how long the throw was.  Katie ended up being so accurate, that after a few games, the coaches relied on our stats more than any other stat girl before us.  

We started out working the freshman team, and then the next 3 years we were strictly varsity.  It was a blast.  We traveled with the team to every game, hung out before the games and rode back in the super stinky bus full of boys.  Life was good.  

Specific memories include:


One of the coaches "christening" (his overheard words, not mine)the bathroom while Katie and I sat in the hall close by.  I can't remember if he was embarrassed or not when he walked out. He may have been more proud than embarrassed. 

Getting to sit in the score box with the other coaches

Standing on the sidelines feeling eyes on my booty (and turning around in confirmation)

Chillin with my guy friends on the bus

Freezing my fingers off trying to keep track of who made the tackles.

Tripping over the cord that was attached to the coach's headset and nearly yanking him to the ground. 

Watching said coach yell and scream at the player he thought tripped over said cord.

Having major BFF time with Katie.  

And mostly just feeling like a badass on the sidelines during the game with my BFF.

Oh to have been on the Seahawks sideline during the now infamous MNF game. I would have been very busy marking down all those sacks!!!!

Seahawk Knuckles!!!

As many of you already know, we are Seahawk fans.  It started a few years ago (for me) when we went to a Seattle Seahawks pre-season game.  It was against the Oakland Raiders and it was the end of August.  The weather was perfect, the beer was flowin and we were with our great friend Leigh.  I was really feelin the Seahawk Spirit and wanted to share it with EVERYONE,  so I was going around giving complete strangers "Seahawk Knuckles".  If I came across a rowdy Raiders fan, I would feel them out and either say Seahawks or Raiders Knuckles (I didn't want to get shot in downtown Seattle in front of my husband) because I wanted everyone to feel my same excitement for the game.  We won, so the knuckles continued long after the game was over.  And the "knuckles" stuck.  Now a couple years later we've stepped up our loyalty and own actual Seahawks gear.  Well, that and the crocheted bracelets I made. 

TRUE SEAHAWK KNUCKLES

Two years ago I wanted to buy a custom women's fit (key words) jersey that has the #12 on front/back and the word KNUCKLES on the back. But they were like 80 bucks.  I wasn't that hardcore of a fan yet, so I decided it could wait another year.  Then last year, same dilemma.  Just wasn't sure if it was worth it.  Then this year rolled around and I advised hottie hubs that for my 30th bday I wanted the custom jersey.  (He went sky diving on his 30th, so I thought the price of the jersey was of no concern)

THE jersey I want. Minus the 18 and Rice.

New Nike jerseys. Gross!

Only problem was, the NFL changed jerseys.  The now have Nike instead of Reebok, and simply put, they're just not as cool.  1. They look like soccer jerseys.  2. The numbers are too cartoon like. 3. They say Seahawks in tiny print on the shoulder, and 4. Where's the Seahawk logo? 

HH (hottie hubs) said he was going to order me the Nike one that was now $150, but wanted to check with me first before doing so because of the drastic changes.

So what's a cheap fan to do??? Thats right, visit a website from China that offers exactly what I want.  A women's fit custom Knuckles 12 jersey.  It was $80 and the Reebok version.  Perfect right?

When it arrived, we had to go to the post office to pick it up since the package wouldn't fit in my mailbox and it was an international package.  Coincidentally the day was June 6th, HH's bday.  (our birthdays are a week apart)  When I opened the package, I noticed right away it wasn't women's fit.  Thats ok, maybe they swapped it with a size small in the men's jersey to appease me.  Nope.  It was size 48 MENS. 

In their defense, it did have #12 on it, and it did say KNUCKLES on the back.  So they were 2/3s correct in the order.  We held it up and it actually looked too big even for the hubs.  But it wasn't.  It fit him just right.  How awesome for him, right?  I mean it was his birthday.  But he already owns a Seahawks jersey!  And this was supposed to be MY birthday present! 

Yesterday was the Seahawks vs Cowboys game in Seattle and the 12th man was ever present.  We kicked the Cowboy's assless chaps right off em. Hottie Hubs wore his custom jersey and his crocheted bracelet, and I wore my longsleeve Seahawks shirt with my new Seahawk earrings I recieved for my bday from the Hottie. (He also bought me Seahawk socks, that I renamed Sawks and a Seahawk beach towel....cuuuute!!!)

So, should I spend the $150 and get what I want?  I'm still trying to find a website (not from China) that has leftover Reebok women's fit jersey's that can be customized.  IT HAS TO SAY KNUCKLES WITH THE #12.

Summer's still here folks

Summer has not left the valley yet.  I know people keep wishing it would, and my fall wardrobe is trying to make a comeback. But lets not get ahead of ourselves.  We still have another month of the hot weather.  I know, its getting darker earlier and mornings are cold (allowing my heated seat obsession to return), but the proof's in the puddin:

And to celebrate the Indian Summer and one of our best friend's 30th bday, we went rafting and fishing this last weekend.  We had a blast.  I didn't bring my pole, but had an itch to fish so I threw my line in and caught a pretty big one on my only cast. I'm real good.

Catch and Release

Look at those baby blues!

Nate was a fishin machine

Crazy Crew

Another from the machine

Lets hear it for the boys

False advertising. I was not drinking the Pendelton.

Gotta love the Ronde

Cuuuuute

He's dedicated

Me n Carly

Rubble Rope

Crap Room turned Craft Room

Post Originally Written Sept 4th:

We had big Labor Day weekend plans.....and then the j.o.b. got in the way. Hate it when that happens!  However, it may have been God's way of telling us to STAY HOME and GET WORK DONE, SON.

So, that's what we did. We had a big day planned for Saturday. Costco, Home Depot, (Bed, Bath and Beyond if we had time). I showed hubs the Martha Stewart 3x3 shelving unit that I wanted, and stated I needed 2, possibly 3.  We bought two, got home and quickly put them together. Teamwork!!! Have I mentioned the nerdy song we wrote about teamwork?  I'll sing it for ya sometime if you haven't heard it already.

Our house is pretty big, and that allows me and my hubby to each have our own room, separate from the one we share of course. This is awesome, because I have a lot of my own crap. I'm a borderline hoarder (teetering on the messier side of the border), keeping tons of stuff from my childhood that I cannot throw/give away.  Cleaning my room wouldn't have taken that long, except I kept finding stuff that brought up crazy-back-in-the-day memories.  For example, I found a 14 page letter I wrote Rodney when I was entering my Sr. year of high school. (ahhh high school love) Seems silly, however it detailed exactly how/when we first got together. Excerpts from the letter:

"The first time I saw you: Band Camp '96"   (not makin this shiz up, people)


"Then I asked you, 'Do you want to go to the movies sometime?' My heart was pounding. I'm sure you could hear it. You said, 'Sure that'd be cool' "


"We went to Coeur d' Alene a couple of times. Farting in the can, watching Bloomsday, falling asleep in front of Whose Line Is It Anyways. Kissing under the moonlight, as my mom would say."


After strolling down memory lane, I got back to work clearing out my room to make room for my awesome shelves.  I had hoarded a crib from my sister (What? Its nice, and I was hoping one day to use it!!!) that in reality didn't need to be fully set up and in the corner of the room as if we were bringing a baby home tomorrow. So I broke that down, and hid it in my basement.  Got the room pert'near empty, and then moved those suckers in. As I was filling the cubes with my precious yarn I heard my hubby from the next room yell to me, "I really want to come see what it looks like!" He was really excited for me to have my room all neat and tidy and able to show off when people come over instead of insinuating there's a hideous beast we're shielding from society.
TA DA.

Behold the power of Martha.

Hanging the official Blake's Beanies sign

(For some reason I only took an after pic with my ghetto fab phone, so I'll have to update this post later when I take a pic with my ghetto fab camera.)

Sunday we went golfing with one of my bffs Shauna and her bf Eric. It was the perfect day. I didn't even pit out.

Me n' Hottie Hubs 

Armpit Eric

Crazy Shauna and Crazy Blake

Monday it was back to the newly labeled craft room for more organizing.  When I had had about enough, I stopped and started a Breaking Bad marathon while crocheting and making a giant pasta salad and pork ribs.
And that ladies and gentleman was my Labor Day weekend. I'm sad to see it gone, but happy to hear my husband say, "oh wow" every. single.time. he walks past my OPEN door'd craft room.



*Side note: We had our 2 year anniversary of adopting Lola Rae this weekend.  It was 2 Labor Days ago that we met and fell in love with her.  I highly suggest visiting a shelter before buying a puppy or dog. 

Running and Vegas

Last night I laid awake thinking about how I was going to change my lifestyle.  Basically I don't work out (although I am a gym member), I drink alcohol quite frequently, and I sit on my couch and crochet almost every night. So, when I button my jeans in the morning, why am I constantly surprised that they're tight?!?!?!

I'm not opposed to exercise. Its just that I can easily find every excuse not to. Last night it was a business meeting (at a bar). Tonite I'm babysitting my niece. Tomorrow, well tomorrow is Friday, and Fridays just seem like the one day NOT to exercise. Well that and Saturday.

Back to the late night thinking. I really wanted to go 90 hard core days. No alcohol, exercising every day. I even planned on waking up early to go to the gym.  But, my thoughts were way more motivated than my body.

So when I saw that there was a Rock n Roll 1/2 Marathon in Las Vegas on December 2nd, I got really excited.  For more than one reason.  My brother and his family live in Vegas, so there's always that.  And there's Vegas. A place that needs no explanation, rhyme or reason for visiting. And running 13.1 miles?!?! No one would question my motives.

So, I gotta start training. December 2nd is 13 weeks away.  Plenty of time for quality training. I've trained for Bloomsday before, which is around 8 miles, and I've completed that in an hour and 20 minutes. That's about a 10 min mile pace, so that means that I'd be done in around 2 hours, which sounds like a lot of running when I put it in those terms.  But, with THIS race, there's bands at every mile, and you're running on the strip from 4-6pm. Sounds perfect to me.

Wouldn't it be super rad if we had a group of us go and run together? Wouldn't it be even more rad if we  dressed up?!?!  Elvis? Bret Michaels?  Liberace? 

If I end up doing this alone, no one will know what happened in Vegas. Because, well, it stayed there.