The Third Saturday in October

Since I need to post everyday this month, I can now go back and post all the things I should have blogged about when they happened. FYI--I am very lazy...this happens a lot.

Now the title of today's masterpiece refers to the annual Tennessee-(I hate)Alabama game which historically took place on, you guessed it, The Third Saturday in October. Only now it doesn't take place then. It was the fourth Saturday, but meh, it just doesn't sound as good.

Since I moved to the black hole that is Southern Illinois back in 1994 I haven't exactly kept up with Tennessee Football. Yes, I mean Football with a capital F. I work weekends in a factory and I don't see the outside world except for when I'm coming in or going out. I didn't know about Peyton Manning or the National Championship or anything! And this from the girl who didn't miss a single home game during my illustrious college career (I managed to mooch a ride to several of the away games, too).

A couple of years ago I did a 6 month stint on the midnight shift and I got to watch or listen to several games. That's when my family learned just how loud and obnoxious I could be. When I found out I was going to have surgery again this year I was pleased to find out I would be home for most of this season. When the BFF scheduled her annual fall trek to the black hole we didn't realize right away that she would be here then. It was fate!

She came bearing gifts (a UT snuggie and 4 orange reusable shopping bags with big white T's on them) while I had a chilled box of white merlot on tap in the fridge. She was childless this weekend and since both mine are mo-bile now we were able to enjoy a loud girls night of bonding. I don't remember what we talked about (imagine that!).

The next morning we headed to the Schnuck's. We had decided the menu would consist of stuffed mushrooms and cheese dip, while the cocktails would be Big Orange Screws (screwdrivers with peach schnapps). I started cooking the goodies while she had a little nap (we don't bounce back nearly as quickly as we used to). Then it was time for kickoff.

Luckily my kids did not stick around for the show. One of their favorite past times is to watch me get wound up while watching football, and I did not disappoint on this day. I won't rehash the particulars here--it's still a little too raw. In retrospect it was an excellent game and they battled valiantly. But if I had my way someone would have beat the snot out of that field goal "kicker" (and I use that term loosely). My husband thought I was having a heart attack with 4 seconds left in the game. No, I was just hyperventilating. I guess the rest of the world didn't take it as hard as I did because when I offered to head the line of people wanting to beat that kid with a bar of soap in a tube sock ala Full Metal Jacket on facebook, no one joined me. NO ONE! I couldn't believe it.

Also, BFF received a call during the first half informing her that her house had been broken into. It was awful. I tried to be a good friend, but I finally got her attention back on the game. And the Big Orange Screws. After all the heartbreak we fired up the karaoke **Note to Self--Get new karaoke discs. No one wants to sing Genie in a Bottle. No one.**