Not One Of "Brew's Crew".

It looks like T-Brew is going to get the Christmas miracle that he needed to save his fanny (and his job)... a contract extension. To say that I am dismayed is putting it mildly. Coach Brew has a big mouth, no results, and all together blows at coaching division 1 football.

I could do a better job recruiting, putting together an effective offensive line, and peaking local interest in the measly Gophs. Perhaps they missed my resume... perhaps I should have submitted one. After all, that would be my ultimate dream job. Head coach for my adorable Gophers. Lets just say I couldn't do much worse... 6-18 record in the big 10 since he started leading the little rodents. Lets just say that beating Indiana doesn't exactly cut the butter at this house... we need to annihalate Wisconsin, Iowa, Michigan, and The Ohio State.

I wont hold my breath. Seems to be up there with winning the powerball in my life's pipe dreams.

Back to manning my very important bowl game schedule. Gophs vs. Iowa State... not exactly on my excitement radar this year... Insight bowl... been there lost that.

She Couldn't Be... Could She?!?!

I am slightly convinced that Ms. Hannah Montana is (gasp) a liberal. She has spent the last 1/2 hr. growling at Fox News. She HATES dick Morris... Despises Karl Rove... and Loathes Sean Hannity. Have to admit, my sweet and spicy girl is funny. But, I am going to have to work on her political affiliation before the 2010 election... God knows I will register her to vote.

I Work With Nut Jobs Part 1.

I don't claim to be even remotely grounded or normal. In fact, just the opposite. I am fully aware that I am frivolous, ridiculous, naive, and indulgent. Every day is a parade... big floats, marching bands, someone throwing candy. Life is good. Some may say this puts me in an odd position to "labeling" my co-workers as nut jobs.

That is fine.

But, I disagree.

You see, take my co-worker, C., who brings her ukulele to work and sings her made up songs to anyone who will listen at the noon hour. Then asks if I can "lock" up her soprano ukulele in my locked desk to ensure it's safety. Mind you, this is the very same girl who reminds me of those scary actors on Yo Gabba Gab&a or Sesame Stre@t. You know the ones whose eyes become as large as dinner plates and the "fake" excitement is thicker than molasses in January when some purple dinosaur freak gives them a helping hand fixing their bike tire... that's my girl... did I mention the fact she is a truly brilliant genius yet socially awkward beyond belief.

She has a website... I am dying to know who sang her duet with her. If you want the link... let me know. I'm just not posting it here.

Just Keepin' It Real...

Today I officially tripped going up the stairs, slipped on some sawdust, ate it in the parking lot at work...

Here is to the first snow.

You think I would get better at this as time goes by...

Unfortunately, nope.

Still a first snow clutz...

Actually, I am graceful at all times...

People envy me.

Or so I tell myself when picking myself up from some slushy puddle at 9am.

Open Letter.

Dear Santa,
Would it be too much to ask that you bring me something from Harry Winston this year? I just know that you will come through for me again. You always have. I beleive in you!
Mistletoe,
Future House Queen.