Went To The Ball Game

The home team lost 44-0. Yep, that's about the kind of football program we have around here. The same lady sat behind me as sat behind me last week, and spent a great deal of time talking in a very loud voice telling the same story she did last week describing how she was intimidating the athletic department to get a certain pet student of hers on the team. They finally put him on the team--probably to shut her up, and now she is harassing them to let him play. She said she was going to keep harassing them until they did let the boy play in a game. Hmmm, I'm starting to understand why the football program is so bad.

The band was really good, though.

While we are on the subject of football, last night I dreamed I was engaged to The Barbarian. Yes, engaged to be married. We were at my mother's house--which didn't look anything like her real life house. She was in the front yard with somebody I didn't know, and Barbarian and I were hiding behind a building. We were trying to sneak away before my mother spotted us and went on another rampage. I just knew she wouldn't understand. I mean, she was upset enough that I was dating The Barbarian, and I hadn't had the nerve to tell her we were going to be married. My sister--in my dream, though not in real life--was already married to a black man, and my mother would absolutely freak (in the dream) if both her daughters were married to black men. Especially one with dreadlocks. Like Barbarian. My sister's husband kept his hair short, so he was marginally more acceptable to my mother.

So we were hiding behind the shed in her back yard waiting until she was distracted so we could sneak out to the road. She finally looked away, and MBIII and I headed toward the road. On the way, I stopped to grab the rope of our five donkeys, which were all hitched to this big, long lead. As I was leading them out of the yard, one of the donkeys knocked over a pile of lawn chairs. My mother, attracted by the noise, turned just in time to see us all--MBIII, the donkeys and me--leaving.

As my future husband and I walked away down the road, leading our donkeys, the shrill, shrieking voice of my mother followed us, though I could never make out what she was saying.

And so I woke up. Strange thing, though, my mother has never shown any sort of racism or bias in real life. I don't know why she would be a raving maniac in my dream. Unless, of course, it means she wouldn't approve of any man I chose to marry, no matter who it was. Even Marian Barber III.

Oh, and did you know Mr. Barber plays the piano? For real. I heard it on Talkin Cowboys.

*insert eye roll here*

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