The Madness

I’m sitting watching that semi-wretched semi-remake of Bewitched with Will Ferrell and Nicole Kidman because my March Madness brackets are truly terrible. I can’t stand to watch anymore games in which my picks lose. Thanks Duke, Creighton, Illinois, Washington State, Maryland and Arkansas! And that’s just part of my list.

Huh…I forgot Steve Carell was in that movie…

Where was I? Oh right, my pathetic brackets. As you may all recall last year, I was in a pool at YB. One where money was involved, and where I had to count up the points, which only made my ultimate second to last place finish that much more painful.

This year I was invited to Trout’s family and friends’ bracket. Only allowed to enter one bracket, something bigger than money is at stake…pride is on the line…and apparently a trophy, but I have serious doubts it actually exists. The ol’ YB gang is also doing a bracket again, except this year, only one of us still works there. I have three brackets entered there, which is really helping my chances. I’m feeling okay about that.

However, the same cannot be said for the other game. For a brief and shining moment on Thursday night, I was in second, that’s right second, place. I was feeling pretty good about myself. Then VCU beat Duke in the first upset of the tournament and my bracket has steadily gone downhill since. Sure, sure, I’ve had a couple wins here and there but I’ve now sunk to last place. Last, friggin’ place. In a bracket with the most enthusiastic, passionate and lovingly sarcastic college basketball fans I’ve ever met. Hopefully I get invited back next year.

Oh, hey, look at that. Bruce Almighty is on now. Isn’t Steve Carell in that one too? Sounds like a good idea to me.

And to all of you I’m competing against, you should be thanking me because I’m making your lives just a little easier. You’re welcome.

Hasta.

Rub-A-Dub-Dub

Trout and I just got back from a lovely round of drinks and dinner with his former college advisor, and I’ve got some time to kill before Lost starts, so I thought, in an effort to try and keep my word this time around, I’d try and write a post. I promise nothing spectacular or profound, but it’s at least something, right?

So, last night I caught/developed some obnoxious stomach flu bug, thing. Thankfully, I was able to finish the after-work work that needed to be done before the stomach cramps hit full force. I spent the remainder of the evening laying on the couch doing a lot of moaning. Trout might call this mansick…but well I’m not a man, so I’m not really sure how I should classify it. But needless to say I did a lot of lying around making disgruntled/discomfort noises while Trout tried to watch some show on the Military Channel where stuff blows up.

Around 9:00 Trout suggested maybe taking a bath would help. The thought was very intriguing, whether it would help my stomach woes or not. Intriguing enough, even, to get me up off the couch. You see, I love, love, LOVE baths. You may look at that last statement and think….um, okay. Why? You seem very adamant about that. It’s a bath. Neat. Well I have a very good reason behind all this.

Growing up, we had always had a very large bathtub in our house. The large built into the wall model was later replaced by a beautiful porcelain claw foot. The tub was deep and long enough to allow the user to stretch out almost completely. Nothing melts away the stress of the day or muscles aches, pains or stiffness like a nice, long soak. Add some bath salts to that equation (especially Burt’s Bees) and I can assure you there are few other places I’d rather be. Living with dorm bathrooms for four years, trips home always entailed at least one good soak in the bathtub. One of the main selling points for my apartment in Denver was the claw foot-like (albeit short) tub.

Now, the apartment in the 5400 does have a tub, but it’s your typical shower-tub combination. It’s certainly long enough, but not quite wide or deep enough for proper enjoyment. I thought of all of these things as I sat in the tub last night hoping the hot water and relaxation would help calm my stomach. It did help temporarily, but oh, how I miss the tub at my parents’ house.

I know it’s highly unlikely that it will happen, but when Trout and I actually start to look at houses, I swear if one has a decent claw foot in it, I’m going to have a hard time not wanting to buy the house on the spot. Okay, I might want a nice yard too, and a basement, but even if it doesn’t have these things, it will still be really hard.

I’ll Think of a Title Later

This week has been only a little less crazy than previous weeks, but at least now I’m trying to limit my evening work tasks to an amount that won’t cause me severe burnout by week’s end. I said I’m trying, I haven’t quite gotten there yet. As I write this I still feel like I should have made more phone calls to various volunteers and clients about various issues that are going on. I did make the calls that absolutely needed to be made, but I just can’t push past that tonight. Is it possible I am doing the bare minimum right now? Perhaps. Am I saving a little bit of my sanity along the way? More than likely.

So instead of spending a couple hours on the phone this evening, I’m sitting on the couch, watching reruns of The Office while trying to get back into this blogging habit.

So, since I feel like this is kind of my first post back after a very long hiatus (sure I’ve posted sporadically for the last couple of months, but this somehow feels different), this is going to be pretty random.

So here are a couple things going on/things on my mind as of late:

Trout and I are looking into buying a house. The housing market in the 5400 is, shall we say, less than ideal, so the chances of getting into a house in the immediate future are a little tricky and fairly unlikely. We met with a real estate agent this evening, initialed and signed a lot of paperwork and are now officially on our way to start looking for a house that might lead to buying a house. Even if it takes us awhile, we’re willing to wait, because any house, even a fixer-upper, will be FAR better than this apartment. Oh, how we won’t miss this apartment.

Last night’s season premiere of America’s Next Top Model was unlike any other episode of ANTM that I’ve watched. And why is that you ask? What was so special about this particular episode? Was it dumb-as-a-box-of-rocks Kathleen trying to explain when it’s okay to wear fur? Was it the appearance of two plus size models (which I actually think is really cool), or the first mail-order-bride-model? Nope. Nope. And nope. It was unlike any other episode because Trout was watching it with me. My guilty pleasure was no longer safe in the sanctuary that was my little apartment in Denver. My guilty pleasure was now open to ridicule and snarky comments. Which, truth be told, wasn’t all that bad or undeserved. The model boot camp was kind of lame and some of those casting calls were just painful. But still, I’ve gotten him addicted to Lost and The Office. If I can just get him to like ANTM and Ugly Betty I might get to watch TV in a snark free zone. Although if that happened I’d probably just end up missing it. Okay you can make fun of ANTM, but don’t even attempt it with Ugly Betty. That show is great, and I'm not ashamed to admit that.

Trout and I head to Steamboat tomorrow, as long as the roads hold out. With that said, I should probably go think about packing and checking road conditions.