Heart Attack

Today appears to be made up of three things and three things only: Spanish, basketball, and online shopping. I cry "Boo!" to the first and "Right on!" to the latter two. However, such a semi-quiet day has not lacked in excitement!

Since I finally had my Spanish textbook, I had about two weeks of work to catch up on. I started at noon, and worked straight through until three, and I still wasn't done. At this point, I was ready to chuck my textbook out the window, laughing and crying "Hasta luego!" as it went flying gloriously to the ground below. I'm having a little trouble with remembering the grammar of it all, the typical "he is, she is, they are" type crap. I probably just need to make myself some flash cards, although the thought is somewhat degrading. In any case, the old math textbook that I'm starting to review for the GRE was actually starting to look 1/1,000,000th less puke-worthy, and that's saying something coming from the enormous math-phobe that I shamelessly confess myself to be. 

So, I did what any sensible female would do in my place, obviously, which was to go shopping. That was happiness. Even better when the shopping can be done from the comfort of one's own bed. Let's just say that Target's online store ain't hurtin' for dough this evening. Probably half of what I ordered will have to be returned, but I enjoyed myself. 

After the damage had been done, I went down to watch the second half of the Memphis/Tennessee game with Mom and Evan. For those of you who don't know, the rivalry between the University of Memphis and the University of Tennessee can be politely referred to by such kind adjectives as vicious and blood-sucking. The hatred between blue and orange is hereditary and degenerative. There is nothing a dedicated Tigers or Vols fan loves more than watching the other side get put down, hopefully with a good helping of steaming hot humiliation piled on top.  The last time these teams played and Memphis lost, a Vols fan threw a beer can at Joey Dorsey on his way out. If I remember correctly, dang near the entire stadium went to blows. 

FYI, Dorsey is so not the Tiger I would have chosen to throw something at. The reason? Here you go:

Can you picture anything less warm and fuzzy existing outside of Hell itself? He was my favorite player. The guy was a friggin' tank.

The point being, the competition today was fierce. Numerous brawls nearly erupted from the court, and the refs were being pretty stupid. There was one blatant move on Chism's part that should have resulted in a T. Chism acted like a great big baby, made me want to offer him a pacifier if only to shut his whining. Never mind, Taggart got him back later with a body check. Resulted in a foul to U of M, but it made us all feel better.

The game was pretty tense, especially when we got below the minute time mark and things were still close. UT was only one point behind us, and if they scored, we were officially in the crapper. The coaches were using timeouts left and right, and Calipari was teaching me some new curse words that he shouted so emphatically that I was able to read his lips. 

It actually got down to one second. At this point, I was crouched on the sofa peeking through my fingers and Mom was praying aloud to every saint she's never heard of and Evan was speaking in what could only have been tongues. Odd, how a basketball game can become such a spiritual experience. But it all turned out well. We held UT off and won, effectively spanking them in their own stadium. It was a very nice moment, and Mom promptly went outside to the front step to do her obnoxious, yet embarrassingly satisfying, victory dance and screech. I'm sure her, "Go Tigers! Woooo!" thoroughly endeared her to our LSU loving neighbors.

The phone rang then, and I saw that it was my grandmother's number. She was obviously calling to exult over the game. I picked up and started gushing about how great a game it had been when I heard NanNan saying incoherently, "I need someone to take me to the emergency room...heart attack..." Her voice was kind of fading in and out, and I promptly felt panic take me over. I thought I'd heard her say "Don" in there, which is my grandfather's name. Mom saw my eyeballs turn into UFOs and started to flip out at the words "emergency room" and "heart attack", when I heard NanNan finish a few seconds too late, "...because it was such a great game!" 

I proceed to hyperventilate and gasp out, "Never....never.....ever.....ever say something like that to me again...."

Mom mercifully took the phone from me so that I could calmly pass out. 

Ahem. Good games hath unexpected repercussions, I suppose...