24 January 2010

Sadly, I've become That Guy

Yeah, just leave me outside from here on out.

After two-plus weeks of processing the Citi National Championship Game, I have come to the conclusion that I can't "enjoy" a UT football game in public. No ifs, ands or buts about it. I cannot be out in public for the Longhorns anymore.

Back in 27°44′34″N 97°24′7″W, I would watch it with a bunch of hooligans that took over a venue for every kickoff. It's a conditioned response when viewing with unabated screams and trash talk for three years. So, when I view the same barbaric game in mixed company (fueled by Shiner Bock), it's a little different.

I wasn't very proud of myself, yelling at a television screen, spatting at the image of Nick Saban, and generally making people uncomfortable...more uncomfortable than Colt McCoy's shoulder. I backslid, but the slide was just my previous behavior, if that is an excuse.

In the spirit of getting yelled at by Colin Cowherd, I have turned into That Guy. This version of That Guy would be Guy-Not-To-Invite-To-Sporting-Events. I'm not special. I do not get secret privilege to lose my cool and change someone's good time to an irritating memory. I need to be a grown-up, not a slobbering frat boy. Besides, it's just football. I have no stake in the team (unless you count the tuition I am still paying from loans). So, I don't need to behave like an angry stakeholder.

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with being passionate. But even passion has it's limits. The limit, of course, would be psychosis.

As I have defrosted, I'm waiting to see where Earl Thomas and Jordan Shipley land in the draft. And I will be electing to just stay at home for the 2010 (pronounced twenty-ten). And just like the 19 seniors on the team, I will be graduating from the public to private yelling at my own television, because I can creep myself out much better than scaring the straights.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) I have turned The Lovely into a foodie. No, not that kind of foodie, the clean kind. With Charlie Palmer and Craft Dallas (with Local coming on Valentine's Day), I'm ashamed to even walk near the kitchen.
2) Everyone, we have this year's favorite acronym for the year, and we are only three weeks in: APT - Advanced Persistent Threat.
3) Happy Anniversary, The Lovely. Year Two doesn't sound as good as Year One, but I am positive is will be more fun.

I promise, this is not a sports blog. But, as far as the Longhorns and my house arrest, we are on a 223-day break. So, I will enjoy it. Gawd, why can't we just have a playoff? Talk later.

09 January 2010

2009

It started innocently enough,
you told me I was made of sterner stuff.

I was in bad place and you seemed to shine light,
I reached out for it and held on tight.

But you promised me diamonds, gave me nothing but sand,
and I forgave you with the touch of your hand.

Every promise broken, a relationship of empty words,
a new ache my battered heart could ill afford.

Walking away is the lesson I never learn,
the more it fails, the more I yearn.

I tried to give you what you need,
but you burned me up like gasoline.

For me no more frogs, princes, or false love,
all that remains is strength from within and above.