Not sure where to go today

Inside my brain, the hamster is working its wheel.  There’s nothing dramatic in the cage currently – it is simply full and spinning.  Every effort I make to stop and take note of some part of it reveals another stash of pellets for me to consider.

Maybe a hamster isn’t the best analogy.  For one, I don’t feel very rodent-like.  And two, it’s much too cliche for my attempt at writing a new angle blog.

Let’s start over.

Inside my skull, the beta swims quick loops around its small tank.  The same pebbles and plastic greenery are still there with each passing turn.  The water fills my lungs and yet I need to surface for air and food which often gets lost in the constant circling.

Ugh.  Nope – fish out of water also too over done.

Lion at the zoo in a too small habitat?  Caged bird that is afraid it cannot sing?  Sisyphus on a treadmill of stones?  Random sock lost in the dryer that keeps spinning on high heat?  Durang’s George dressed as Mother Courage thrust onstage in what appears to be Charlie’s Angels but with Jerry Matthers as the elusive Harvey the rabbit?  Frog in a blender on pulse?  Tiny worker ant confined to its own mound of dirt pining for the greater universe?

Clearly, I could go on and on trying to describe what it feels like to be me in my life without ever actually writing about the actualities of my existence.  And, currently, all of the comparisons seem to point to me feeling a bit too routine, too ordinary – too normal.  While at the same time, almost too timid to express these longings for fear of losing the infinite blessings that fill my cage/tank/habitat/universe.

So, I write it down.  Or, I think about writing it down but trip on my way to the computer trying to make the words come out perfectly the first time.  Or, I deem the laundry more important.  Or, the checkbook balancing act.  Or, internet surfing under the guise of trying to find an interesting subject to kick start my next blog.

Screw it.

Today the life of Kathleen involves the remaining chores to get the house in order before going back to work and school on Monday, getting our son over to/back from a friend’s house to play for a while, making sure the other child is entertained as she gets jealous when he gets to out, grocery shopping, outdoor Christmas lights down and put away, cleaning my home desk area, clipping the dog’s nails, watching some football without the Cowboys, craig’s listing two ellipticals we no longer want, and checking to make sure my kids don’t have lice after spending a week with their cousin who did.

See?  I sound like I’m whining when I should be grateful to have these two beautiful children, or a marriage and relationship that has lasted nearly eighteen years, or a home to clean that’ s not in foreclosure, or money to buy groceries.  I AM GRATEFUL – every day of my life, I am grateful.

I am also human.  A human woman who is now 41 who life far exceeds any dreams I could have ever had as a child as to what family meant or even what it meant to grow up.

So, I know the universe loves and accepts me when the contented routines of each day get paused as I walk through a day-dream of adventure in my own Kath-Bourne Identity traveling the globe fighting terrorism in search of my true past self under the guise of being a worldwide respected actor onstage in her own works sharing an ethereal connection with Sting carrying my Nobel Poetry and Peace prize in the back pocket of my size six jeans.

Dallas – 27 Pittsburgh – 17 … Ah, nice …

This is not a prediction of today’s game.  This is the score from Superbowl XXX where we won our third Superbowl in four years AND finally beat the Pittsburgh Steelers in the Big Game.  Those were the days …

I can say “our” because I consider myself part of the team – the perpetual team of fans.  I have watched, rooted, cheered and cried with the ‘Boys for as long as I can remember.  Having been raised in Texas, it was not only part of my family’s tradition, I’m pretty sure we had classes about it in school.

I cannot speak of the other Superbowls with the Steelers for obvious reasons.  (True fans will understand…)

I’ve often wondered what it is about the Cowboys and football that I love so much.  I do not watch any other sport with such enjoyment, vigor and personal connection.  Is it just the history of always having watched them play on Sundays in the Fall with my family?  One of my early dates with my husband was watching the disappointing Cowboys vs. Lions  in  Today’s playoff game in January 1992.  I knew I could spend the rest of my life with this man once I discovered his blood ran as blue and silver as mine did.

But why does my blood run blue and silver?  To begin with, I am a girl.  This is not meant to be sexist but in general, football fans – especially those who know the difference between offsides and false start  – don’t have breasts.  Well, at least not ones that were meant to serve milk.  Women have only been granted full access to the game within my generation as far as being able to play at the younger level and media coverage.  Other than my mother, I have no close female role model for loving the game of football as much as I do.

Speaking of, there is an interesting study in and of itself.  My mother was born and raised in Pittsburgh, PA.  She and her best friend moved to Waco, Texas where she met and married my father in 1963.  It must be like a religion, because from all accounts, she converted to Cowboyism for my father and is about as die-hard of a fan as you’ll find.  (See attached photo of our family – it was her idea to wear the Cowboy shirts.)

But let me not digress too far from the point I was trying to discover.

I read somewhere, sometime that people love football because it instinctively reminds of our warrior days without the actual blood loss and death toll.  Again, being a peaceful, haiku-writing, anti-war featherweight who cannot understand why the referees let them fight so long in hockey, you would think that following golf or tennis would be more my style.

And yet, tennis makes my neck hurt and I believe golf would be much better served if the golfer is under constant threat of a tackle by a 6’5″, 375 pound d-lineman before whacking that tiny ball with his stick.  Don’t you?  At least that way it would help better me fight off the urge to nap than I am able to with the soft spoken tones of the golf announcer.

All of this is to say that I really, really, REALLY hope the Cowboys beat the snot out of the Steelers today.  I think they have the power and the might, even if Marion-the-Barbarian is out and D-Ware is playing with a hyper-extended left knee.  Romo has the eyes and the pinkie to connect with any one of our many receiving weapons – TO, Williams, Witten, Crayton, Austin, and I’m pretty sure T-Choice will surprise us all and have a great game. Ole Ben might need to get back on his motorcycle to avoid the pressure that is coming at him today and Polamalu will need to keep his hair out of the way if he wants any chance at covering our guys.

So, here’s to today’s game – raise your glass, melt that queso and get your popcorn ready — Cowboys 27, Pittsburgh 17…

Todaro family extension

Todaro family extension