This girl be sleepy. But haven't we heard that before? Sunday was loverly. Most and truly. Wrote some, sportsbarred a bit and wondered if Brett Favre will ever be okay with those final moments of overtime? Sad stuff as I was hanging with a Favre fan and we lamented that careers so sizzling should not end with that tiny crackle.
New Orleans, city I love, I am torn now. I like a Peyton-boy but as an NBA girl my NFL loyalties are whimsical and move to the beat of things like cities I love or certain players (say Ricky Williams were on either team or the Dolphins--whom I've always loved were one of the Superbowl contenders). These are not the factors we are meant to measure if we be true-followers. But I am not. I drink Becks Light and watch the people watching or the gymnastics or basketball on the other screens, unless I force myself to attend.
Still, I am inclined to go for NOLA and let my viewing partner bring on the dancing horses. (Ponies though they be.) And I'll watch the team of my beloved city where I once actually saw Ricky W. in Pirate's Alley carrying some artwork home.
In the meanwhile, I completed the 24 hour round and ended up with a skeleton for a story that I will like very much one day. I am droopy today, but not without hope.
Where did today go though?
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