And by that I mean it is so hot and humid outside that it is downright stupid. In the words of Jamie B. Golden, one of my favorite Twitter follows,
"Hey, Summer, it's been great, but it's time to call your mom to come pick you up."
I mean, Fall things like school and football season have arrived, so why do I feel like I'm going to burst into flames as I'm walking to the mailbox?
I will say that I'm not one to normally get too worked up about the heat as I tend to choose hot weather over cold weather nine times out of ten, but in the past week every time I walk outside I feel like Ashley Judd in A Time to Kill.
Minus the beauty, the wealth, the relation to a famous mother/daughter singing duo, and the being cast as Matthew McConaughey's wife. Basically, just the sweat part.
We had a great Labor Day weekend if you take away the emotional trauma I suffered at the hands of the Texas Longhorns on Saturday. Let's just go ahead and get right down to it. You know that when I have some feelings to work out, I head right over here to this blog and as you might have guessed, I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS about the first weekend of college football.
You see, friends, "excited" does not come close to describing how I felt about the fact that our first game was scheduled for right here in the DC area. We all ordered new Texas gear and we got great seats to see the Horns open up against The University of Maryland (i.e. a school known for its basketball and lacrosse teams. Ahem.) at FedEx Field. We arrived early for the noon kick-off and I was beside myself with joy because everywhere I looked my people were there. The Texas fans had shown up in a sea of burnt orange glory and it was as if we had walked right into Darryl K. Royal stadium in Austin. The aforementioned 700 degree temperature coupled with the 300% humidity made me feel even more at home. I was *this* close to belting out "Surely the presence of the Lord is in this place."
It was overcast all morning, but by the time we found our seats the sun came out right away and had we been any where near any flammable liquids we would have absolutely caught fire. I was as hot as I've ever been in my entire life, but that was neither here nor there because I was effectively among my kinfolk. And as is the case every single darn season, I was full of the hope and confidence that only delusional visions of a National Championship can bring.
So then Maryland scored on their first possession. And then we couldn't seem to move the ball to save our lives. And at one point it was something like 24-7 them and still, even though I was starting to get nervous, I was all "Whatever, man. It's totally fine."
At halftime I was feeling much better as we had cut the lead to only two. I basically skipped out to the concourse with Steve to get some food and lo and behold we saw a place called Nacho Nation. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that loads of my Longhorn Brethren and Sisteren were in line for nachos because OF COURSE THEY WERE. The menu claimed all manner of different nacho options and I was all set to order the West Coast Nachos with chicken, avocado, salsa, and other things of the Mexican-food-heaven variety. We waited in a really long line and when we got to the front, the lady said that all they had left was the plain chips and cheese. Like the plastic kind of cheese that squirts out of a machine and that isn't actually cheese, but instead is some sort of sus synthetic madness labeled "Cheez". (sus = suspect if you don't happen to have teenagers.)
 |
| What kind of fresh hell is this? |
At that point, I said to Steve, in a voice louder than perhaps it should have been, "Do you think like maybe they could have posted a sign for me and my homies as a heads up on the lack of actual nachos present at a place called freakin' Nacho Nation before we all stood in line for 15 minutes?! Although there are very few things in this life that I am 100% sure about, one of them is that these people wearing burnt orange ain't gonna to be happy with fake cheese in a plastic container. FOR THE LOVE."
I think it's fair to say that my positive attitude was waning a bit at that point.
As I look back on this moment I realize that this is when I should have known that this glorious day that the Lord had made was not going to be quite a glorious as I imagined it would be. As Oprah would say, "There's usually a pebble upside the head, before there's a brick."
The brick came and it was a big one. We rallied and held a lead for perhaps a millisecond. Then there was a weather delay during which time it poured for an hour while we all huddled sticky and smelly in the concourse. I kept telling the boys that this hour of feeling like we were in the Amazon rainforest was sure to pay off when we left victorious.
But alas, we lost by 5. We slumped back to the car with our fellow losers. At one point a young guy yelled loudly, "Hey, it's a long weekend! What's to be upset about? Oh yea . . .WE SUCK."
There was much tearing of robes and gnashing of teeth on the way home. Someone in my car wondered if maybe there was any chance we were all wrong and that Tom Landry was still alive and could take the team. Someone offered that maybe the guy who played Coach Taylor on Friday Night Lights was available and had gleaned enough from that show to make a decent head coach. Someone sighed loudly and argued that obviously, we should have just run the ball on 3rd down and then passed it on the last chance 4th down to avoid the interception because THERE WAS STILL TIME Y'ALL! (PS That someone was a cheerleader in high school and paid more attention to how much hair spray her bangs could withstand during the game than actual football strategy.)
So that's my sad, pathetic story of the Labor Day weekend that dashed my dreams for a season of Texas Football greatness once again. We did end up having a lovely time the next day at a neighborhood block party on Sunday playing cornhole and eating chips and dips that were not made of fake cheese. Monday I got together for some more fun with some of my best girls and we had a family dinner that night during which we only spent 1/2 the time re-hashing the game.
In closing, I'd like to wish you all a wonderful season in which neither the temperatures nor a bunch of 20ish year old boys in football jerseys try to kill you dead.
Happy Fall, Friends.
PS I welcome any and all suggestions for local counseling services for emotional wellness. Thanks in advance.
PPS I love you forever, Texas Longhorns. We're gonna be just fine.
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