Slacker

Wow! It's been awhile since I've posted.  I'm already slacking on this blog!

We've had a lot of activity around our house since I last posted, including a recent trip to the Lake of the Ozarks with some friends over the Labor Day Weekend.  I think I'll save the Ozarks trip for a future post.  Let's just say there were mermaids involved.

So, to get everyone up to speed:
#1 I felt like there was a baby living in my chest all last week.  It felt like there was someone sitting on my chest--or living inside of it.  There was a lot of pressure going on.  It's starting to feel better though!  No baby yet! 

This was me last week except without the smile.  I'm not sure if the baby was smiling.

#2  We had our fantasy football draft (cue eyeroll from most readers).  Now, please stick with me as I explain this trainwreck of a day (yay!).

For those who are unfamiliar with fantasy football drafts, here's a super quick explanation: we are a ten player league=ten people managing their own fantasy team.  Draft day consists of each person picking real NFL players for their fantasy team one at a time, following a preset draft order.  It gets serious because we play for money.  Dolla dolla bill ya'll. We put some time into deciding who we think are the best players out there.  You can totally overthink it too (ahem, my brother-in-law).  Drafting should be a simple process, but we like to make it our life's goal to make things as difficult as possible! High five!

Just getting started.  This is serious business.

I also wanted to point out that this is our garage and not our home.  Just in case anyone was getting ideas.



Well, we decided to keep up with our annual tradition of inviting three other league members over to hang out during the draft.  Ryan made his famous chili (YUM) and I had my infamous anxiety attack about not studying enough for the draft.  We got online with Yahoo messenger and our mic and also via phone call with the five other league members.  Time to get this party draft started! Since we are upstanding citizens, our draft day also consisted of:

• shouting
• imbibing copious amounts of alcohol
• petty name calling of league members aka our friends and family
• lots of inflated egos *sideye to the men*
• plenty of swearing
• speculation on the size of other league members' body parts
• listening to everyone's "expertise" on playing football, coaching football, the NFL, and general comments on athleticism
• more shouting
• laughing
• consuming more alcohol
• partaking in too much of the above and drafting a subpar player when it's your pick of the draft
• repeating for hours on end until everyone's rosters are filled or one by one people are too incoherent to function (usually a combination of both in our league)

Basically, it's a man's typical outing with friends---except with some females in the mix (myself and two others).  It. Was. A. Disaster.  We had one person in the hospital and instead of, oh, I don't know, letting that person be in the hospital and allowing someone else to pick players for her, we thought it would be prudent and down right sensical to call her at the hopsital for her draft picks every round until she was finally released. I'm sure the doctors wanted her out of there because they were tired of overhearing our phone calls and the mess which is our league.  The mics kept messing up on the computers (a lot of "huh? what did you say?" going on.)  We also kept losing phone service thanks to a big storm moving through.  Frustration levels were climbing because all of this was slowing the draft down. There was angry shouting.  We ran out of beer.  We ran out of chili.   We had broken beer bottles, broken hearts and broken dreams. 

Orange and pink posterboards to keep track of picks on draft day. We're legit.

Draft should have taken two to four hours at the most.  Our draft took EIGHT HOURS.  Classic.  I'll never get that time back.

My team logo

After the longest day of our lives, Ryan and I dragged ourselves to the couch and ended the night with this awesomeness:

 

Holy moley, the television programming they have for babies these days!  The baby inside my chest loved it.  We all drifted asleep sucking our thumbs with dreams of a fantasy football championship dancing in our heads.

P.S. Did I mention I'm a two time champ and have made three fantasy bowl appearances? Oh, I didn't?  You bet your sweet butt I was bringing it up on draft day.  Repeatedly.  Possibly excessively. 

The champ's plaque.  Yes, Tom Brady was decapitated by the end of the night.