Obsession 1. The state of being obsessed with someone or
something
2. An idea or thought that continually preoccupies or
intrudes on a person's mind
I'm obsessed with some things. My husband, my kids, doing
laundry, keeping my house clean, spiders, being fatter than
I would like, food, smells, reading, hot weather (I don't like being hot),
bottling , chocolate, my kids practicing piano (this is true even though Erin, my dear friend and kids piano teacher, may not believe me...). There are others but this gives you a good idea of some of the things I am obsessed about. I am a distracted or intruded upon person and I think I am distracted because of my obsession with so many things...there isn't much room left in my blonde brain for anything else, and, yes, I'm proud to be a natural blonde.
"Bonito Dorito" "Stupid mosquitoes like me doritos" Random to put in my blog about obsessions, you say? I disagree. I am simply making a very valid point. I am NOT as obsessed about all the things I have to obsess about as the man I sat next to at the REAL game, he likes Doritos, I think he may even have a love thing going on there. Every thing he yelled, and he yelled a lot was about Doritos. Now, I don't go around yelling, "clean your room, chocolate!" so I think MAYBE I'm okay...at least compared to Dorito Man. I hate to even say this because it still makes me throw-up a little...he even smelled like Doritos...blah.... Other than the fact that he smelled wrong, and had his love obsession with Doritos, I considered him quite a creative person, he was able to work the word “Dorito” into EVERYTHING he said, and I am really NOT kidding. That is something I couldn't have done. Way to go Dorito Man!
So, more about this Salt Lake REAL game. Doug got Maren
4 tickets to this game for her Birthday! We were right down
in the front in the middle of the field, awesome seats! Doug,
Maren, her little friend B and I all went to the game
Wednesday night. It was a new experience...
It was a record breaking night. Rio Tinto seats 20,000 people, and there were more than 20,000 people at the game, they announced the exact number but I was distracted by Dorito Man. It was packed, like crazy packed. I like the Bees games, they aren't as nuts, this was nuts. We went the wrong way around the stadium to our seats, following the lava like flow of people pushing their way through. I think people forget that they aren't the only one in the world. We got to our section, got the girls huge snow cones and made our way down.
Doug went in first, we had our strategic plan all made out, the girls would be in between us, as to avoid werdies near our girls, like this was even possible to avoid.... He sat by Screaming Boy (I say Boy, obviously, he was not yet a man-though he thought himself to be), I sat next to Dorito Man. People like to scream. Not yell, scream, at soccer games. That I figured out in the first 2 minutes. It's all good to get into the game, but really....?
The game had started. The REAL team did something. The man in yellow, kind of like a hornet, blew his authoritative whistle. Everyone stopped, looked, then started chanting "Bull Shit" yes, you read it correct. Over and Over and Over and Over. Now, I would have laughed if it were just Doug and I, (well I did a little, in total shock) but no, we have two innocent 8 year olds sitting there saying "what are they saying?" This was in the first 5 minutes of the game...what had we done?
Then the bugs started falling....yes, well maybe suicide diving at people. The boy and his dad in front of us were attacked a few times, maybe they were aiming for Dorito Man. A huge, not friendly bug landed on the boy, I swatted it away. He turned and looked at me like I had just hit him with a hammer. I explained that I was swatting a bug, he still stared at me with that 10ish year old, "why are you talking to me?" stare. A minute later we saw the bug on the chair next to him on it's back spinning as if it were trying to win a race but going nowhere. I told him, "there is the bug that fell on you." Again, 10ish year old, "why are you talking to me?" stare. Oh well. I tried. Then the other bugs started falling. This bug must have been the leader, or the idiot that got pushed out first. They would dive-bomb at someone, then flip on their back and spin around like this was their purpose in life. I don't like bugs. Dorito Man tried to catch them a few times. I wonder if he had caught one..."I caught a bug-hetio Dorito!"
There was also Dandruff Man. A quiet man, in a dark shirt. Shouldn't have worn a dark shirt. I have never seen dandruff like this before. He needed help. It was as if it had snowed, just on him. Throw-up a little again...icky.
Yelling Boy, I would say was the loudest in the crowd. He liked to yell. Yelling doesn't make anything more possible. I wanted to tell Yelling Boy this. No matter how loud he yelled, no matter how red in the face he got, no matter how he flung his hands in the air...it wasn't going to help REAL win this game. And a point that many needed to consider, yelling at the ref from their seats was in vain, he can't hear them, and even if he could, he doesn't care. However, sometimes I like to yell...it does seem to release internal pressure. I would assume their internal pressure was much greater than mine. Especially Yelling Boy's. Dorito Man liked to yell too. He even danced a bit. Really, everyone liked to yell. Except Dandruff Man, I don't think he said a word.
There were the "chic’s" that thought they were the hottest thing since rice pudding in individual containers-and that is hot, they weren't. They liked to swing their beer around, you know that makes anyone look hotter....not. My girl made the brilliant observation, "those girls aren't being smart. They are drinking beer and aren't modest." That’s our girl!
It really was the worst refereed game I have ever seen. We think he was paid off to make them lose. Morales came back-much cheering. I think even the back-spinning bugs liked that. REAL didn't win. It was sad. An interesting experience. But fun. It took us about 45 minutes to get out of the parking lot.
A perfect description of our Wednesday night, In the wise words of Dr. Seuss "When beetles fight these battles in a bottle with their paddles and the bottle's on a poodle and the poodle's eating noodles...they call this a muddle puddle tweetle poodle beetle noodle bottle paddle battle..." may I add my own words to this, " when you like dorito dancing crazies and dandruff covered fuzzies, yelling, screaming boyzies, and beer drinking dazies, swearing, chanting fanzies suicide, spinning buggzies...go to a REAL game."
Oh, and don't forget the man who ran out and made it to the ref after the game-rock on drunk man!
