Notes from Game Day

Before I start this post, I understand that many of you do not share my abiding affection for the Kentucky Wildcats. I promise that I will not offend you with these Game Day notes. I can say this with much assurance because I do not remember much of the game. I did watch the game. Due to the wizardry of the McGyver of tailgating, Greg Abrams, I watched the game on the side of the bus from the Old Cardinal Stadium Parking Lot. I remember the halftime score, the safety, Myron Pryor's touchdown, and a first down by TC Drake. Well, I don't so much remember TC's first down as I have a record of it. I text-messaged his name to Tyler, who was taking part in his own 13th birthday party and was quite perplexed by my text. Sorry, Tyler. (If I do offend anyone, feel free to fuss at me in the comments section.)

I will now describe the events of the day. I woke to check my Facebook and found that I was ranked 3993 of 1068041 Facebook users in college football predictions. Maybe I should take my act to Vegas....

Although it was early, jello shots awaited. I hate to toot my own horn, but I have somewhat of a reputation with my jello shots. I will let you in on the secret. You must use water in the first part of the recipe. It is a waste of liquor if you boil it, anyway, and the jello will not dissolve and it will be flat. So, boil a cup of water and dissolve the jello. Let it cool. Then choose the liquor that you think will best combine with your flavor choice. Since I was using blue, I chose Citrus Rum. I added curacao to make the shots bluer. I will admit that I made a big mistake with this batch of shots. Because of the curacao, I decided that cold water was unnecessary. Lesson, little grasshoppers: some cold water is always necessary. The jello did not gell completely, and it did not taste as good as usual. Also, the shots were way too strong.

After concocting shots and waiting for them to gel, it was time to go. I went to the garage to get my cooler, Wheelie Cool (so named because of the sticker on his side.) Apparently, something I had been storing in Wheelie Cool had spilled, because he had some sort of chocolate syrup-type substance all over the bottom. It's times like that I really need a husband. You know, I take that back. A husband would probably get mad at me for making a mess in Wheelie Cool. Cleaning up messes is what kids are for. Dylan would have come in really handy at that moment. Anyway, I spent 15 minutes cleaning up the nasty chocolate goo, didn't get any on my clothes, and off I went.

Melanie had very graciously texted directions to me so I would be able to find the bus for our tailgate (Gate 4, Section H.) I was glad, because I was anxious about finding my friends. This was so unnecessary. That bus was impossible to miss! Picture it: a school bus, painted silver, with a deck on top (Greg would like for me to call it a sky bar). People were sitting on the deck, or more likely dancing. The stereo equipment was rented and loud. I arrived, set up my cooler, fixed a champagne and curacao (because drinks should be blue), and climbed to the "sky bar." I later texted to Hunter the legendary words "Champagne and curacao is good." And it is.

Soon some young girls joined me on the sky bar. They taught be a new dance to an Usher song. It's called "The Minister." To do this dance you put your weight on the toes of one foot, twist that foot five times, and then "bump your hip" a lot. I don't think my minister would like that dance.

After I left the Sky Bar Christy and Jenny showed me a man who was walking around wearing running pants and no shirt, a Louisville hat, a grill, and perpetual bottles of Arbor Mist that he was storing in the bus refrigerator. I wanted a picture of him and his Arbor Mist. I was not stealthy, and I kept getting caught. We made friends. His name is Lord MacGregor. He sells some natural juice product that will solve all your health care needs, from diabetes to allergies, cancer to acid reflux. You can buy it from him for $45 a month. Or.... you can become a distributor and get it at a discounted price of $32 a month. And it really sells itself. I mean, who can put a price on health? Unfortunately, I lost Lord MacGregor's card, so we may be out of luck. Maybe we can google him. He told me he's really famous and that he's been on Oprah.

I also met a really sweet girl, but her voice drove me crazy. After every phrase, she said, "Uh." As in, "Hi-uh. How are you doing-uh? Are you going to watch the game-uh?" Brandon, if you are reading, please do not bring a girl home who talks like this. I will go all Henry Higgins on her.

When the game began, we all sat down to watch. I noticed that Kentucky fans (men, really) kept coming over to high-five and kiss me when we did something good. This didn't really make their wives and girlfriends all that happy. It didn't make me happy, either, and really puzzled me. I'm not really a man-magnet all that often. I called Lisa to whine about it. I also texted a confused Hunter this message, "Married scum and trash." Now that I see the pictures, it's because I was wearing an ill-fitted and skanky shirt. Note to self: that shirt can only be worn with jackets from now on. Another young thing, who had dated a girl from Glasgow, came up to talk. The girl is still in college. He didn't believe me that I was 35. He took my sunglasses off to look for crows' feet. I decided he was beer-goggling. I also decided I loved him, but not enough to compromise any morals or values. He left.

After the game some friends took me home. Bless them. Lisa told me that "The Sound of Music" was on. I went blissfully to sleep while listening to the soothing sounds of "The Lonely Goatherd."

I woke at 5:00 am. My car!! I called a cab to come and get me. "Old Cardinal Stadium" is not an acceptable destination for a cab. The switchboard operator and I finally decided upon "The Fairgrounds." The cab driver and I arrived to find my car unscathed and drivable. However, the driver side window was open and the back door was ajar due to the insertion of Wheelie Cool. I am a lucky, lucky girl.