Breakfast of Champions

"The breakfast of champions is not cereal, it's the opposition."
--Nick Seitz

SO, loved the olympics last night. Is that little American gymnast Patterson the cutest thing ever? OMG I was so into her flips and smile and all that. Hope she gets lots of commercials out of it. That Russian stick of a girl was KILLING me. Each time she flipped I cringed, sure she would just snap in half. I kept waiting for a bony leg or arm to go flying off and the judges to talk about the style with which she lost her limbs. I couldn't stand it. Then the chick would suck in her cheeks before a big jump/flip thing and it just gave me the willies. I had to eat 2 damn cinnamon rolls to make up for it. I know it didn't help her skinny, anorexic ass, but it made me feel much better.

Went out for my little practice session and sign in and all that at Gladstone, MO. Threw the new bowling ball as well as my fave Hammer. Actually looked like I knew what I was doing, could get a little cocky if I'm not careful. I just want to make finals SO bad. The evil little competitor comes out in me in those occasions. They had ME signed up to bowl the Pro-Am with some poor little bowlers who wanted to bowl with a real professional lady bowler. I got out of it barely by playing the single-mom card. You know, a lot of things suck about being a single momma, but you can really work it when you need it! Thank God, otherwise I would have had to stay out there at Gladstone Bowl till almost 8pm bowling and try not to get beat by the yahoos there and look like a no-talent fool.

I'm going to combine my knit blog and this blog. I'm tired of typing things twice.

Russell & Mark are going out Sat. night to Missy B's and then out on the town with Russell's grad school group. I can't go because I have to be supermom. My folks are home so I'd get "the look" if I went out and left my children with my cousin. SO, I needed some extra rest anyway, but Mark almost never gets out with Russell anymore and I WANNA GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE. I've been stuck at home a few weekends too many.