SeeeaHAWKS!

I totally attended a football game this weekend and loved it.

I went with a group of seven people, six of whom I'd never met prior to the game. Normally a situation like that would send me into some kind of spastic tizzy of apprehension, but lately my Nutcase Anxiety has disappeared. It's weird. Like I'm normal. I dunno. We saw the Seattle Seahawks (but don't tell my brothers. They're Cowboys fans) play the Tennessee Titans.

Anyway, I knew Jay, and then there would be two of his friends (husband and wife), two brothers and a girlfriend (I really hope that's who she was. She was really nice but I kind of got lost during introductions and I may have just made that up, but I don't think so. A wife? Crap, Why don't I ever pay more attention...)

Jay and I carpooled up with his two friends, Penny and her husband, C. Penny is due with their baby boy in October (yay!) so unfortunately she couldn't drink. Which I guess left C free rein to take tequila shots from the trunk once we arrived in Seattle.

Remember the last time I went to Seattle? Yeah. This time, there wouldn't be any A-hole bartenders calling me old or punching jerks in the face. I needed to act like a lady.

Which isn't exactly what happened, but my mom reads this so I kind of have to edit the events.

We all went to church and knitted sweaters for orphan puppies.

The End.

Love you, Mom.

Everyone else keep reading.

So on the drive up to Seattle, Jay wanted to talk about the Seahawks. They are his favorite team, after all. Up until Friday of last week I kind of thought the Seahawks might be a rowing team or maybe Hockey, so I made myself listen to Jay explain some STATS and whatnot until I sort of realized that Jay was expressing his undyinglove for Matt Hasselbeck.

In a really weird, unnatural way.

Like, the way Jay was going on about the two of them being best friends and trying to get me to procure Hasselbeck's autograph made me kind of suspicious, but the clincher was when Jay informed me that they were best friends who got restraining orders against each other as a joke.

I'm not really sure it was a joke.

Anyway, I assured Jay that I would absolutely get that autograph (which I didn't) and we moved on to other topics like Polygamists and Mormonism.

All of which I am not, but Jay seems to be fond of making those accusations. I decided to play along and Jay agreed we would look for a wife in Seattle.

We found her at a piano bar once we got to Seattle. She was fun, spunky and brought us Jell-o shots that contained .001% alcohol. I loved her. The only problem was, Jay and I each had a Bloody Mary and promptly forgot about looking for wives to join our commune and set about storming the city for five dollar Coronas sold on the sidewalk that the guys had to consume behind a rope.

Jay: [offering a beer]

Me: Ew. No.

Jay: [offended gaze, still holding beer]

Me: You just paid five bucks for that and now you are in Beer Jail. Everyone can see you drinking that nasty thing.

Jay: Come. Join us. We are in a concentration camp and we are enticing you with beer.

Me: No. Also, you are going to hell.

Jay: [raising the rope] Please?

Me: [rolling my eyes at Penny and slipping through the rope barrier, leaving her knocked up and alone on the street while I stood next to a bunch of fools behind a rope wall]

After the boys drank their over-priced beverages, we ended up on a stoop in an alleyway by the stadium where the boys and I consumed more beers and things got funnier.

Now. A moment.

You know when people enjoy a few beers and the mood is lighthearted? It was like that, only the boys took it a little far. I'm not going to name names, but someone broke some rules and I'm pretty sure the people who live and work in that building are going to be pissed when they discover what happened. And that is all I'm saying about that.

What I will mention is that maybe it was beer #9, or maybe C is a liar, but he did say that he thought I wasn't half bad, so I've made a conscious decision to hang out with drunk people more often.

Other highlights while waiting for the rest of our group to show up include:

• An Asian man, roughly 100 years old, yelling "pea-NUTS!" in his warbly voice (it was endearing) while another man using an accent that we suspected to be fake and we were totally right because he would pause, forget what accent he used and change it.
• Jay kicking some guy's $8 beer and apologizing so sincerely and profusely that the kickee actually apologized to Jay
• Someone peed in a trash can. IT WAS NOT ME.
• Jay rolling up his pant leg and representing the West Wide while wearing his jersey, slacks and dress shoes. Oh. And a pliable fan helmet.I wish y'all had seen it.
• Searching Seattle for the original Starbucks, thinking we found it and being told we were like, 8 miles away from the actual original
• Myself sharing with Jay that I sort of wanted to knock the crap out of the chick who sat behind us in the stadium because her Valley-girl Voice and her super, like, lame topics of conversation were like, really loud and stuff and him telling me that he thought that my violent tendencies were appealing.
• I was so lost as to what was going on in the game, Jay had to give me the rundown on a play-by-play basis which was pretty impressive given the fact that he had about 47 beers and still knew what was going on more that I did.
• Going back to the car at the end of the night and having C ask his wife to pull over so he could get the bottle of tequila from the trunk. Which was funny enough until he climbed out of the window at a red light and took off running down the street. Just jogging. Chasing two bunny rabbits apparently, though I was a little suspicious as to the validity of his claim. Rabbits? In downtown Seattle? Alright. He could have always asked Elmer Fud which way they went.
• The Seahawks totally kicked the Titans butts 27-17. Go Team.

I really had a lot of fun. I won't go and watch football all by myself on television or anything, but I would totally go to another live-game.

I would not feed five dollar Coronas to guys who do really weird things afterwards.

*Also, would someone please remind me that cameras so not serve a purpose when left at home? I don't have any pictures from the weekend.