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Game Seven

Tonight is Game 7 of the Lakers Nuggets playoff series. You probably don't care because "the NBA doesn't interest you." Well, I do. I will always be a Seattle Supersonics fan and am more than ready for Seattle to have a team again. Come on, GP, make it happen! But I have to admit, in high school, when I wasn't cheering for Detlef Schrempf and Shawn Kemp, I was crushing on all the Lakers players. Eddie Jones? Yum. Glen Rice? I'll take him, bad knee and all. And Kobe Bryant? Obsessed. I even had this ESPN Magazine cover on my bedroom wall...
Isn't he dreamy?

What I'm trying to say, is that the Lakers are a big deal around here. Such a big deal that I whipped up purple and gold German chocolate cupcakes for the Game 1 tipoff and made Shane's dog, Kobi, (yes, the dog's name is Kobi) her own cheerleading outfit. Let's call it a jersey.



Now you know. GO LAKERS!



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Posted by Nicole
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My Cheeks Hurt

The last time my cheeks felt like this, the pain meds from my wisdom tooth surgery were wearing off. Thing is, I can't stop smiling.

Take Easter Sunday for example. No need for an alarm clock on this particular morning; after 40 long days without fast food, the thought of a McGriddle was all I needed to roll these lazy bones out of bed. I was on a mission! Hello golden arches. Hello seductive, green Siren. A meal for two - enough calories for four - a warm welcome back to the world of fast food. But before I could dive into my iced Chai and mini pancake sandwich, Shane sent me on a surprise Easter egg hunt: lots of laughs, lots of goodies - like a Reester bunny 4-pack (R.I.P. chocolate peanut butter friends), boxes of Girl Scout cookies, and neon, striped socks - and a registration receipt for Bloomsday. Hmmm...which of these does not belong? I'm hoping cute socks can somehow propel me up Doomsday Hill. But still. I'm lovin' it.  




Sidenote: I belong in a sidecar. One of the first sunny evenings of spring, Shane and I made off like Lloyd and Harry for a quick trip to the grocery store on his moped! The simple fact that he owns a moped and a helmet that fits my oversized dome has to be some kind of sign. My day was made in the shade. Until it was my turn to drive. I will preface this by saying I tried to talk my way out of it. There I was, in the driveway, with my oversized helmet tightly cinched, receiving instructions on how to operate the seemingly harmless motorized vehicle..."Gas. Brakes. It's just like riding a bike. Go!" And go, I did. Slowly at first and then suddenly faster. And by suddenly, I mean, instead of making the right turn into the street I pulled back on the handles in sheer panic, floored the moped, jumped the curb onto the grass median that separated me from oncoming traffic on Upriver Drive and the steep drop into the Spokane River just beyond that. Somehow, I landed my curb jump and came to an abrupt and upright stop. I was not smiling. Neither was Shane. And I've been permanently demoted to passenger, which I'm perfectly content with.



For awhile there, 2012 had me thinking I was looking at an Albert Pujols power slump. I have since changed my mind and am all smiles.


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Posted by Nicole
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