Good Morning, Jazz Bears!

I don't feel well this morning. And I blame the Bears.

I have a headache, my throat is scratchy, I can barely talk and my ears hurt. I kinda feel like I have a hangover. At first I thought it was the beginning of a cold. But now, I am prety sure it's because of the Bears.

Because the game was at noon, I decided to just go to Buffalo Wild Wings right after church to watch--that way I could watch the whole game on a good screen and still be at youth group on time. Since I live 30 minutes from church it didn't make sense to go home.

I had fun watching the game. Since I was by myself, I got a great seat at the bar in front of the jumbo screen. I had some tasty Spicy Garlic wings. The crowd was insane and into the game. I've never watched a football game in a bar, so it was a neat experience. However, there are unexpected health effects.

That room was without a doubt the loudest room I have ever been in. When Devin Hester made his ill-fated run back and when Robbie Gould kicked the game-winner, the bar was so loud, my ears still hurt. I've been to a lot of concerts--and stood close--but never have my ears been this affected my loudness. But I am not blameless in the contribution of noise. I yelled a lot. And so--along with the heavy fog of smoke hanging in the place--my throat is shot.

But hey, you can't make an omelet without breaking some eggs. I am happy to take this pain for the team.

In related news, my office Fantasy Football Team won this weekend. That means that next week I will play in my first Fantasy Super Bowl ever. I am excited about it. I am dreading the draft though because there just aren't many sure-bet players right now because of tough defenses and offenses that spread the ball out.

DREAM LOG

(1/11/07)

I was at a junior high lock-in on Christmas Eve. We woke up on Christmas morning and I walked out into a hallway to see three young girls sneaking down the hallway. I asked them what they were doing. The oldest one, who was obviously the leader, turned to me and put her finger to her lips and motioned for me to follow. We sneaked down the hall and into a classroom where a young boy was alseep under a pile of blankets on a huge round cushion.

All the girls surrounded the sleeping boy. All at once, they jumped up and down and the leader yelled, "Good Morning, Jazz Puppy!"

The boy woke up. Calmly and slwoly he stood up, wearing a tux, and said to me: "Last week she made me be a Jazz Buffalo."

*Note: I have no idea what a Jazz Puppy or Jazz Buffalo is. I guess my subconscious made it up. But I think "Good Morning Jazz Puppy!" is my new catchphrase.