Tiny Thing #591: The bigger, the better

It's late, and I'm tired, but since I can only publish a blog post on February 29 once every four years, I thought I should soldier through some kind of writing. Maybe I'll find another "Tiny Thing" to write about.
Ah, here we go: #591.
Beefsteak tomatoes or cherry tomatoes? Why?
Well, that's an interesting question, for sure. I think I'd have to go with beefsteak tomatoes, because they're nice and thick and tasty, and can be combined with a host of other flavors and goodies. Also, they are easier to slice and dice for recipes of all kinds. But my favorite thing to eat with beefsteak tomatoes is thick, yummy mozzarella cheese slices and a leaf or two of basil, drizzled with some olive oil or something. Second favorite thing? BLT sandwiches. Large tomato slices are pretty integral to the construction of a BLT. Also, Brian introduced me to the delight of tomato slices with just some rock salt on them.
But don't get me wrong, it would hurt to live a life without cherry tomatoes. I like to have a bowl of them in my fridge during the summer because they're cold and juicy, and they pop in your mouth when they're bitten. But when faced with the choice of one kind of tomato forever and ever, I'd roll with the flexibility and diversity of the beefsteak tomato.

I banished Seacrest from my TV, and it was great

I did something totally new and different for this year's Oscars telecast, you guys. I did not watch a stitch of red-carpet coverage.
And it was glorious.
You all know that Ryan Seacrest is the bane of my existence. I can't stand him, and I can't stand E! News, and I can't stand the vapid questions and responses involved in the entire experience. Watching all that just makes me mad, and sad, and wish that the entire night would just end quickly and quietly so I can sleep pillowed in Advil dreams. But today, I thought, "You know what? Red carpet bugs me. So I shall just not watch it. I will read a magazine. I will occupy myself elsewhere."
I mentioned this course of action on Facebook, and my good friend, Josh, rightly commented on how that was probably not actually going to happen. And I thought that he would be right, but after making the commitment, and finding other things to do, I was, in fact, not in front of the Oscar telecast until 6:30 p.m. on the button.
And I felt refreshed. I felt happy. I felt like the entire night had just started, and it was starting just for me. I loved seeing the people on the telecast itself, and I am eager to flip through all the photo coverage of the red carpet ... duh, because I'm not an animal. (This photo of Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio, though, makes me happy in a hopeless romantic kind of way.) And it will be hurting me physically to not sit at my desk all morning catching up on all the Oscar night gossip and recaps. But I have to say, it was nice to not have been bothered by the part of the show that bothers me the most. I maybe sense another Oscar tradition beginning.

You need to be stronger, Supergirl

I've decided to break up with Supergirl. When I first heard about the show, I thought, "Fantastic! A female superhero that I can stand behind." And now, here we are, about I don't know how many episodes into the season, and I'm over it.
I realize that the show is supposed to be empowering for young girls and women, but really, I'm having issues with it. Sure, she's super strong, and able to fight bad guys, but let's look at how she is when she's not Supergirl. When she's Kara, she lets people treat her like garbage. All in the guise of keeping her identity hidden. Brian and I just watched the most recent episode, and Kara's boss, Calista Flockhart's Cat Grant, was just the epitome of a verbally and psychologically abusive boyfriend. Cat refuses to call Kara by her right name, constantly referring to her as Keeera. She is vicious and cutting with her comments on how poorly Kara does her job, and she treats her with no respect at all. And here's the punchline, you guys: Kara "likes" her job, and is so defiant in keeping her "cover," that she allows this treatment. Any woman with any self esteem or backbone would not tolerate such behavior. And I think Supergirl needs to show that she's just as strong and able to defend herself as Kara without her super strength. Her boss is a f*cking bitch, and Kara needs to deal with that.
As Supergirl though, when she's supposed to be among the strongest beings on the planet, she's also relatively weak. She lets this DOE, some kind of secret government agency that monitors aliens, boss her around, give her orders, and shame her when she does something that it doesn't approve of. I'm sorry, but Superman manages to do all kinds of good, and he does it on his terms. Why does Supergirl require some kind of government oversight? And again the question, why does she allow it? She's strong (-ish; honestly, Brian gets so mad about how easily she gets beat by the bad guys when setting up the main conflict. His constant gripe: "Superman would be able to get out of/away from/beat up this; why can't she?"), so she should act like it. Her character needs to be strong. The weakness when faced with being true to herself, and standing up for herself, and actually being the role model that the television show people want her to be is frustrating.
Because of this, I'm done. I sit and watch the show and can't help but sigh over the missed opportunities here. Cat Grant is a bully, there's no other way to describe her, and I'm surprised that I haven't heard anything about that (is it because it's pretty girl-on-super girl bullying?). Supergirl isn't living life the way she wants, and isn't that counterproductive to what we tell girls is their strength? Just to say it, I'm glad that my own daughter isn't watching this show, because I'd hate for her to think that the strongest woman in the world still can't tell her abusive boss to go to hell, and can't quit the organization that thinks it owns her because she's also supposed to be "nice." Grow a backbone, Supergirl, and maybe I'll think you're a hero worth watching again.

It's too late for clever or interesting

Today is one of those days where I really wish I had composed my day's blog post at work, because it's later than I want it to be, and I've got nothing for you.
Enjoy these flamingos.

Bye, bye Jimmy; hello Vin!

ITEM!: I feel like I need to be cured of Vin Diesel movies. Last night, I made Brian sit and watch The Last Witch Hunter with me, and while it was cheesy beyond all imagining, I totally dug it, and find myself eager for the sequels that probably will never come. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I’m afflicted with something, because there’s not a single Vin Diesel movie that I can’t bypass, especially if they’re crazy sci-fi movies, like all the Pitch Black films and stuff. What’s the what with that? I have no idea.
ITEM!: My puppy is irrationally afraid of weird things. Tonight, even though I closed the bathroom door, he still ran away from the sound of my hair dryer. I don't remember ever blowing the hair dryer at him, so I don't understand why he's afraid of it. He's also afraid of my snapping open trash bags (which is actually kinda understandable, because I did shake them at him a few times), but he's also quick to run away when I snap out clothes from the laundry before hanging them. It's cute and funny, sometimes, but really, it's bothering me because I don't like when things scare him.
ITEM!: I've officially broken up with The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. It's off the DVR series recording list, and I'm feeling freer about it. I haven't watched the show in several weeks, and have been deleting it day by day from the queue. Tonight, I was finally in front of the downstairs television when I remembered that I didn't want to watch Jimmy Fallon anymore. And now I won't even feel bad about deleting them, because they won't be there to be deleted.
ITEM!: When I see teases for my local news stations and their 10 p.m. broadcasts, I feel really glad that I never watch the local news. An 11-year-old boy found some guy naked and "showering" in the kid's own backyard with a garden hose? Ew. I'm okay not knowing about that.

Emergency cookies is a thing, you know

I just ate the last three Do-Si-Dos in the sleeve. I still have another box in the freezer, but it is for emergencies, so it'll have to hang out for a while. (Typically, the emergency cookies get unfrozen in the late summer, so I'll look forward to digging into them then.) Did I tell you guys about the awesomeness that is the Girls Scouts' Cookie Finder app? Because I meant to. Because an app that helps you find Girl Scout cookies is among the most fantastic things ever. Because of the app, I've managed to make a couple purchases, and we've been flush with cookies this year. Brian's swimming in Samoas, and Sydney's Trefoils are plentiful.
Still, it's sad to eat the last of the cookies available to me right now.
I'll be seeing you later this year, Emergency Do-Si-Dos.

We made bread, and it's not great

Sydney and I made bread today. I'd never made bread before, not in any way, so this was a new and weirdly scary experiment for me. Honestly, I avoided this project for as long as I could, but it was homework, sorta, so it had to get done.

This afternoon, we mixed the flour, sugar, yeast and warm water. We also added the salt a step too early because Syd was reading the instructions, but whatever. So the salt was in there, and then the oil, and then the more flour, and then the mixing. And then, the kneading. It all went really well, actually, and the 90 minutes of dough rising worked as it was supposed to.

The bread, sadly, is not very good tasting. It is denser than maybe it should be. Also, it's just white bread, which isn't amazing no matter who makes it. But we've all had a couple slices, and the second loaf is in the freezer for next month's trip to California, so it'll get eaten eventually.

But now, knowing how relatively easy this was, I may be inclined to try it again, but with better bread beginnings and a flavor or two involved, as well. It's way irritating to spend the day making something that turns out not too awesome. I think I'll drizzle some honey on it tomorrow. That'll taste yummier.

We made bread. Crazy.

Or at least it had better be

I must be feeling better, because I just spent my entire evening futzing around my house, picking things up, putting them down, placing them other places, and even doing some light (very light) dusting. Sydney and I have a plan, somewhat, for tomorrow, and I'm eager to spend the day at home doing her things and getting my own things in order. I feel like the house has just been laid to waste for the last 10 days, and I'm antsy in the pantsy to get it back to normal again.
Also, I had a good day today, and I've got energy, so I'm ready to get the weekend going. I did take some NyQuil though, just a couple minutes ago, to ensure that I get a good night's sleep. No need to take any chances with some bad sleep with minimal breathing, and all that.
So I'm just going to cozy up in my little bedroom in my house (or igloo, apparently), and go to bed, because tomorrow should be a lovely and productive day.

"I think I want my desk over ... there."

ITEM!: Sydney's decided that she wants to move the furniture in her bedroom around, and I'm kind of on board with it. I'm not entirely sure that it will all fit where she wants it, but I think it'll be a fun way to spend the morning or afternoon. That, and making bread, which is a real class assignment she got last week.
ITEM!: Beyond all imagining, the vertical blind fix from last night actually seems to be working. The blind is still attached to the half of the clip, and I think I'm about ready to consider the random thing a success. I'm not sure it's a success I'm particularly proud of, because really, it's pretty dumb, but at least it's something that won't bug me anymore.
ITEM!: I'm binging Agent Carter today, for some reason. I had five episodes on the DVR, and I'm down to one as of now. I won't watch the last one, which actually is two episodes in a block from last week, since I really do want to get to bed early tonight. I was up until 11:30 p.m. yesterday, and I felt the effects of that this morning. I want all those hours of sleep again, and I will get them. So, because of that, the latest Agent Carter will wait until tomorrow.
ITEM!: I've got a weekend of chores, tasks and jobs ahead of me, so I really need to feel much better super soon. Time to dose up on my NyQuil and turn out the lights.

I got no love for you, vertical blinds

I have a love-hate relationship with vertical blinds. In that, I hate them. There is no love. None at all.
The vertical blinds in my current home are more annoying than most though, because they must be a hundred years old and they break easily. There is a set of door-length vertical blinds downstairs, at the slider, and about four of them have broken. In Sydney's room, a second of her window's vertical blinds broke just yesterday. I replaced one of the vertical blinds in there with one from the office some months ago. Brian and I replaced the second one with another vertical blind from the office tonight. The guest room is in possession of all its proper vertical blinds. The office, because of Sydney's faulty vertical blinds, is short a few.
The vertical blinds in my bedroom though, are the bane of my existence. Picture it, a large, three-paned window, that opens on both ends. The vertical blinds, of course, open from the middle. From the middle. Figure that out! Show me the genius who installed that crap, and I'll show you someone I'd like to smack. So when the windows are open, I've devised a very sophisticated method of holding the vertical blinds to the side with a binder clip. Anyway, one of the vertical blinds in the middle of the window had broken some time ago, and I, in turn, broke the holding clip when trying to replace it, so there has been an irritating and visual gap in the window's coverage for a while.
I decided, based on Sydney's need for a replaced vertical blind, to fix the vertical blind in my bedroom tonight, too. (This is becoming a long story, ridiculously.) The broken clip can not be removed, even after I watched several YouTube tutorials, so I was stuck trying to finagle a solution. I had thought tying the vertical blind to the half a clip with duct tape, but that was too sketchy. And then Brian was all, "Hey, do you think we could just glue it?"
We have Gorilla Glue. We glued it. I managed to not get my fingers stuck, too. It's being "clamped" with a paper clip right now for the evening. So we'll see how that goes in the morning, I guess.

I heart Valentine's Day, and being healthy

Well, this was not the best Valentine's Day. What Sydney brought home, and what I'm now dealing with, is an upper respiratory infection, according to the dentist. I don't feel like I'm getting anything close to enough oxygen in my lungs, and I can't get a normal breath at all. Huge, deep lung-expanding breaths are the best things ever right now, because they feel so damn good. My nose is all stuffed up, too, which is exactly what the entire fourth grade was dealing with last week. Fantastic.

I'm in bed already for the night, at 9:30 p.m., and I've taken my full dose of NyQuil. So here's hoping a super, full night's sleep will have me in a better place health wise tomorrow morning. I'm not at all excited about taking obvious illness into the office.

As for Valentine's Day, Brian brought me a peppermint mocha to wake up to, and Mom made sure I had an awesome Valentine. B and I saw Deadpool, which was awesome, and then we came home and made sandwiches for lunch. I sat outside in the sunshine for a while though, hoping that I was able to bake some of the sick out of my body. And that was really nice, to lay out in the warmth. Sydney and I did some weeding. It was a good day, that would have been much better if I felt healthy and had some energy.

I wish I could stay home with Sydney tomorrow. Working is a drag sometimes.

I'm feeling poorly, but the car is fine

FRIDAY MORNING, PART 1: So, I’ve been infected with the crazy sickness that’s been floating around the fourth grade this week. (Brian has it, too, just so you have an idea what my house is like right now.) I got an email from the school on Monday telling me that 15 children were out sick that day because of an upper-respiratory infection that’s been going around. Two teachers had it, too. Sydney exhibited minimal symptoms of it, with only the runny nose, really, so I didn’t feel too bad about sending her to school this week. She’s been feeling much better the last couple days, so I had thought that this would be the end of it.
But then Brian started feeling crappy. And then last night, like a horrible, horrible surprise, I started to feel crappy, too. One half of my nose is all sinus-y and gross, and I can feel the thickness in my throat. I was so cold last night, and I could not get warm, which to me is a sign of bad things coming. I took only half of my NyQuil, so I wouldn’t be too groggy in case Oliver needed me in the night, so I didn’t sleep too well, either. This morning, I succumbed somewhat and took some DayQuil. And for the first time in a long time, I need to be careful of myself at a workplace, so I don’t get anyone else sick, too. I’m in no good place for this right now.
FRIDAY MORNING, PART 2: I took my car into the shop last night, and got the word this morning in regards to its health: Faulty oxygen sensor in the outgoing portion of the engine. Honestly, this is among the least horrible things I thought Michael would tell me, though the $400 price tag was still a bit shocking. There also are two leaks in the engine, but we’ll deal with those at a later date. Currently, I just need to get that check-engine light off my dashboard. Ideally, the car should be ready this afternoon, and then life will move along.
But on the whole, he said that my little Jetta is in super good shape for having 103,000 miles on it. I need to get the shit taken care of, though. It needs its 100,000-mile service, too. These are the kinds of things that my paycheck was supposed to be available for, but the upcoming weeks will be tough, and we’ll need my pay for awesome stuff like … food.
Still, at least the car will get fixed, and the tires will be rotated tomorrow morning, so all in all, I’m okay with the state of the car today.

FRIDAY AFTERNOON, PART 1: The car repair called me just as Brian and I were finishing up our lunch to let me know that the car was ready. I’m always so amazed at how I can, in my head, turn the entire car bill into a however-much-expensive "car wash" it is.
Because honestly, the car wash is about the only tangible thing I get out of the visit to the shop, isn’t it? I can say, finally, at least the car is clean. So, the car wash and the joy of not seeing a light on the dashboard. That was totally worth the bill, and the interest incurred (written with sarcasm). But the pit in my stomach that is omnipresent when the car is lit up is gone though, so, happy weekend.
FRIDAY AFTERNOON, PART 2: I just took my second dose of DayQuil for the day. That and the rest of my tea should help me not fall asleep at my desk this afternoon. The sunshine coming through my window will not help, though. Sickness bugs.

Out, damn light!

And because today is just the day for it, my car popped a “check engine” light this afternoon.

I mean, yes, of course I knew it has been due for a check-up for a while. For about 3,300 miles, in fact, but really. I need a break for just a while longer, wonderful car. As it is, the Jetta hit 100,000 miles several weeks ago, and it was due for a service then. I’ve been avoiding the cost aspect of it, because me, but then the sweet, little monster went ahead and gave me a message I couldn’t ignore anymore. I refuse to drive a car with a light on the dashboard. It freaks me out like no one’s business. The car seems to know this.

So this afternoon, after work, I’m taking the darling creature to the shop, where I will insist on the bare minimum being done to it to get it in good, working order. “What is the least we can do to get the light to go off?” That’s my mantra for tonight and tomorrow. And then it’ll go on credit, because me, and I’ll continue to push it to its limits until I can’t anymore. I love that car, you guys, and it would make me happy to know that a simple oil service will take care of my problems right now. But, as with any light on the dashboard, I guess we’ll just wait and see

A question to which there is no answer

Sydney was conducting a search on Google this afternoon when, after inputting the first letter, a “d,” the auto correct suggested “Donald Trump” as her possible search phrase. And then came the question, “Who is Donald Trump?”
*sigh*
How on earth do you answer that question? My goodness, who IS Donald Trump? I don’t think anyone knows, least of all me, a person on the fringe of politics and no one at all in his sphere. But alas, when your kid asks a question, you do your best to answer it, right?
“He’s a man who’s running for president, who is campaigning on a platform of fear, and prejudice, and disrespect for people.”
Haha! How was that? I elaborated, telling her how he wants to shut people out of the country based on their home land or their religion. That he has been disrespectful of women on many, many, MANY occasions. And that he seems to be more interested in telling people what they should be afraid of, and who they should blame for their problems, rather than leading them in a more positive direction by offering solutions to the country’s issues. I explained that he was very popular with a big group of people who also feel this way, but that even though his followers were many, my hope was that common sense and tolerance would prevail, and that he would not win. Did that come off too Democrat? Regardless, I believe what I told her. The man's stump speeches are insanity, and we can only hope that more people come out to not vote for him than do.
I'm intrigued and frightened that perhaps this will be the presidential campaign that may color her experiences for presidential campaigns to come. And wouldn't that be a thing? To be able to look back on this campaign as the crazy anomaly? Here's hoping.

Classical ladies don't do duck lips

ITEM!: I added this picture to my Facebook profile as the cover photo because it's awesome. I love the cheekiness of it, you know?
ITEM!: I think I'm breaking up with Grimm. I had two episodes on my DVR, which I watched last night, and I was dismayed ... dismayed! ... to see that the insufferable character of Juliet is back on the show. I mean, really, the character was all over the place, and Nick's entire purpose on the show became all about her. I had thought that, with her death at the end of last season, we would have more and different plot lines. And I was happy about that. But then, a couple weeks ago, Juliet returned in the guise of "Eve," and I sighed audibly. The last two episodes were all about Juliet, and I was unhappy. So, depending on how this coming Friday's episode goes, I may be removing that show from my queue.
ITEM!: It's been springtime in February here lately, with high temperatures in the desert of the mid- to high-80s. Tomorrow is supposed to be 86 degrees. My windows have been open, and the fresh air is kinda moving around (there's minimal breeze), so that's good. Still, isn't it wintertime? I could totally go for a few more weeks of cooler temperatures. But it looks like days in the 80s going into next week.
ITEM!: You see what happens when I stop blogging during the day? Boring and uninteresting posts. I think I'll start writing them in emails and then sending them to myself.

Pink is the pinkiest color of them all

The awesome pink quilt is, as I've said, a bit too light. It's a very pale pink. I would love for it to be a shade of pink brighter. Mom and I talked about it, and she suggested that maybe I could dye it pinker. Sydney and I went to Michaels and bought some pink fabric dye, and so now I've got it.
But I'm totally afraid to do it. I mean, wouldn't you be? I have this totally awesome but slightly too light pink quilt. What if the dye process messes the entire thing up? That would totally be my luck, let's be frank about that. I bought three packets of the dye, as that's the right amount for a quilt that size. And I'm going to use one packet at a time, in order to slowly change the color.
But, having said that, and figuring out how to do this incrementally, I'm still having no part of it. The dye will sit on the counter until this weekend, when I may or may not actually use it. It's ridiculous to be so scared of this.
Pink is such a fun color; it's not scary!

The big game, a more relaxing day

I really didn't have an opinion about who did and did not want to win the Super Bowl today. Indeed, I was okay with either Peyton Manning or Cam Newton walking away with the Lombardi Trophy. But as the game progressed, it became clear to me that while Cam has years ahead of him to win the Super Bowl, this probably was Peyton's "last rodeo." And with every score, I was happier with the possible result. So, don't tell anybody, especially since the frickin' Broncos fans booed my quarterback during the pre-game MVP celebration, but I was really pleased to see how happy Peyton was at the end of the game.
I tend to enjoy Super Bowls when my team isn't playing, as they are much less stressful to watch. As much as I would rather have watched my own team win, it was a secondary, or third-rate, satisfaction to know that Peyton will probably retire on a career high.

Warning: Interneting is hazardous to your job

So I got a warning at work today. Because I spend too much time reading the Internet.
The kicker is that I know I spend too much time on the Internet, because I'm not having enough to do to keep me occupied. I've been stupid bored the last few weeks. I hate reading the Internet every day. And for whatever reason, I've been timid about asking for more stuff to do (though whenever I did, I was kind of brushed off and told that I'd get it soon). But when they give me something to do, I do it. That's the thing. I'm ready for it, and I'm happy to do it. I guess both my immediate supervisors were asked about my production (or lack thereof), and both, I think, had to explain why I have time to spend on the Internet. So I suppose I should be kind of okay that this happened, because now everyone is aware that I'm not being given enough work to do.
I've been saying for weeks (to Brian, and Mom, and Andrea) that I don't have enough to do. Just this past Friday, I came home and pouted on the sofa for a couple hours because my week was such a drag. ... That I haven't been pushy is on me, certainly. That I've chosen to occupy myself on the Internet is bad, too. I'll take the heat for this, obviously. But I suppose that if the result is that I get to dig my hands into more editorial, I can be tough, and get over the nervous butterflies in my stomach, and pretend that it didn't happen, and be more assertive about work and projects coming my way.
I have plenty to keep me busy tomorrow, though the first order of business is deleting my Google News bookmark. I was given stories to edit and other projects to keep me occupied today and tomorrow, and I was quite pleased with the work I did today, prior to the conversation at the end of the work day. But I also was shown how to be helpful in another way this afternoon, and I'll get to do that tomorrow morning.
So. Positives that came out of today: 1.) More work will be coming my way. 2.) It happened on a Thursday, so I'll be able to have a good day tomorrow and not have to stew and be nervous all weekend. 3.) There is more than one narc in the office, and I need to be more careful about what I say to whom. 4.) Operation: Keep Kimberly Busy has officially begun.

If they're really "promising," they wouldn't do it

Someone explain to me how, when a young, college-age student or the like, commits a horrible act, they are referred to as, “promising” in the news coverage. Timely example: the college kids at Virginia Tech who are accused of killing that 13-year-old girl, are constantly called “promising, young Virginia Tech students.”

The way the media talks about it, you would think that the killers here are some kind of victims themselves, having had this crime thrust upon their once “promising” lives, and that they had seemingly no choice in the matter. There was another murder, or sexual assault case, or something years ago where the media also called the perpetrators “promising.” I want to say they were football players? Like, the narrative was that they were good football players, and the crime that they committed put an end to their “promising” careers. And that they would have done great things in this world, but for this one little hiccup of, I don’t know, killing or raping someone. And how if this one thing had just not happened, the possibilities for them would have been endless. … Sure, the possibilities of how many other people they may have killed (or raped) had they not been caught for this one crime would be endless.

I find it disheartening that since the victims themselves don’t have a voice in these situations, no consideration or feeling on how promising their lives could have been, is ever uttered. The victim’s actual life was cut short, rather than the criminals’ careers, and no one has the decency to call that life “promising”? No one can articulate what a shame it is that the victim’s purpose or potential impact on the universe is now a great unknown?

I find that if they simply removed that one stupid word, “promising,” from the vocabulary when discussing killers and rapists and other bad people, I would probably not have an issue with a lot of the news coverage. But the addition of that one descriptive word makes it sound so victim-blamey to me. Like, if that little girl had just NOT DIED, these kids could go one with their wonderful, possibly amazing, and certainly PROMISING lives.

I don't like it, but I watch it

I just read an article about the National Football League expanding the Thursday night schedule on the networks, CBS and NBC, to 10 games (up two), while continuing to hold on to the other Thursday games on its NFL Network. As much as I love football, and you know I do, I am not at all a fan of the Thursday night games. I think they’re dangerous.

It’s bad enough, in my eyes, that some of these guys have to play on Monday night and then be ready to play again the following Sunday. For a team to play on Sunday, and then have to play on Thursday is ridiculous, and most of all, dangerous. These men get all kinds of knocked around, and they need those days to recover. If it takes them, typically, five or six days to go from one game to the next, how could the league, which claims to take players’ health and safety into account in all actions, put them on a schedule that gives them three days between vocational beatings?

I read a thing a while ago, about how much the players themselves dislike the Thursday night games. That certainly made me more of an advocate for the discontinuation of that schedule. (I also think the Pro Bowl should be canceled. Let these guys have their off seasons off.) So, am I big, huge hypocrite for watching the Thursday night games anyway? Sadly, and shamefully, yes. Yes, I am. I look forward to them and enjoy them, as I do every football game.

And that’s the NFL’s hook: it can make more money and collect the ad revenue for another full night of television, because people will watch these games. This is why I’m advocating for the removal of the Thursday night games entirely. Because my point is this, if you take it away, we won’t watch it, or really, miss it too much, I daresay. And the players can have a full schedule of football and recovery, football and recovery. Those three-day work weeks are brutal on guys who need the time to make themselves hale and hearty again.
But the NFL, as proven again and again, is a cash-only business, and it doesn’t care too much about the guys in the trenches.

She's a train engineer because it's fun

So what happened is that I had an 800-page book to read, and it was due tomorrow. I knew I wouldn't have the time tonight to finish the book, so I knew then that I would have to read the entire thing over the weekend. So, I started it on Friday night, read a huge chunk of it Saturday, and then finished it last night. This cramming of the book was a bit unsettling, because I hate stressing out about something so silly. I was able to turn in the book this afternoon though, and it was good, too, so all is well. Anyway, that's why I didn't blog at all this weekend.
I had grand plans of blogging every day last month, or at least having 31 posts for the 31 days of January. I guess 29 posts isn't too bad. But now it's February, and it's time to gather the February plans. Plans for what to pay this month, and what household item should be picked up for this month. I think I'll be able to pay off one of my cards as well as one of Brian's, while still being able to maybe get Sydney's new bed frame. Those plans are tentative, of course, until I see the real state of the finances on Friday, but a tentative plan is better than no plan at all.
I rather enjoy the possibilities of the beginning of the months this year. On every first of the month, I feel like there are two lists in front of me: on one, I'm crossing something off, and on the other, I'm just erasing it. The general satisfaction and relief of having those things either done or gone is amazing, and I look forward to it until the end of the year.