Sunday, February 04, 2007
 

Oh, yeah, the Super Bowl. That.

Is it bad that my single, one and only point of reference for this game (which, as you may have gathered, I am not watching) is the old SNL "DA Bears" skit? It's the only way I remember one of the teams that's playing. Up until today, I'd been forgetting, but now I've got it mastered that the other team is the Colts. I think.

I guess I'm pulling for the Bears? That was a pretty funny skit, after all. Surely that's as good a reason as any.

I even know that the Bears are from Chicago! (SNL again) Colts, uh . . . they're from somewhere, I feel sure.

Not a single non-priestly male was at Evensong tonight, go figure, except for a two year old. I sat in front of our resident bad soprano, because if there's someone who can't carry a tune, I will-- in some cosmically foreordained way-- end up sitting near this person. I'm no singer, but I can at least sorta carry a tune. But I always end up next to, in front of, or behind the person who's going to butcher every note in the treble clef, which then throws me off. I think this particular one thinks she can sing, too, because she rolls all her Rs and ends the hymns "a-MAHN." During the chant portions, I wanted to forget all of the actual meaning of the service, turn around, and tell her to at least stick somewhere near G or close the order of service. Sounds like I'm due for a good long think regarding where my brain should be.

I think I just might be distractable.

So, in conclusion:

Knock, knock.

Who's there?

ADD kid.

ADD kid who?

Hey, wanna ride bikes?!?

This has been your pointless and non-PC post of the evening. Now lettest thou thy servent depart in peace.

PS: In the ongoing Topamax saga (because I know you're fascinated by my meds), I went off of it completely (on my own; no doctors involved, because I make smart uninformed decisions like that) because I was so sick of the fluffy-brain syndrome. WHAM, massive migraines of long duration and tremendous sensitivity, with nausea to an extent I've never had before. So I'm back on the blessed-cursed stuff. We'll see how long it takes for me to A) get a migraine (and see how bad it is); to B) have people start telling me that they can't understand me when I speak; and C) to see when thinking turns into an option instead of a necessity.

All of this, and I STILL don't get the loss of appetite side effect. NO FAIR!

Labels: Anglicanism, football, SNL, TV

Elvisette philosophized at 9:35 PM