This is why I'm not a band-wagon Spurs fan

There comes a time in every sport where a team is just on the rise. While on their ascension, the team gathers a few half hearted “fans.” This phenomenon is known as the band-wagon effect. I am sure every single one of you reading this knows what that is, so I’ll spare you. And if you don’t, then you probably aren’t old enough to be reading this. And while I’m on that subject if you aren’t in support of the Spurs, you probably don’t want to keep reading. It’ll be boring. So go play with the young people who don’t know what band-wagoners are. 

And so this is why I respect the Spurs.

1.       I live in San Antonio and:

2.       There are years when it’s predicted that they will go all the way, and this was not necessarily that year.

3.       They’re quiet and humble.

So everyone reading this knows all about the Spurs and that’s not my focus here. I want to point out why I do not consider myself a band -wagon fan. I do not constantly watch the normal season games, nor do I pay any attention to them before they make it to the play-offs. But they will always be the team I root for. Whole-heartedly without any doubt. And this goes back to all of my beliefs. Even with sports, if I do not support the meaning behind something, then I cannot support the end result. Por ejemplo, I’ve referred to this before, but the whole John Mayer thing. Whatever that’s about. And there are other more serious things. But the less serious things are more fun to talk about. I don’t support extraterrestrial aliens and their abductions, thus I will not be friends with them if they ever land here. I don’t support split ends in my hair, and so I will cut them off. I do not support Toms being worn without socks, so I look at people funny if they are wearing sock-less Toms.

I could go on forever. But the point is that the Spurs are really good guys (let’s just turn the other cheek to Tony Parker’s marriage). So no matter if I’m paying attention or not, the Spurs will always have my vote (see, the Texas primary elections are today, and I managed to weasel that in there. Go vote). And this is coming from a self proclaimed band-wagoner. Any other sport (besides hockey) I band-wagon. 

So I wanted to write about this to raise a glass to the most respectful and hardworking guys in the NBA. Also, let’s just forget that Coach Pop said “Give me nasty.” He probably didn’t mean it in an un-respectful way (he totally meant it). And if you aren’t paying attention to the Spurs’ games, maybe you should be. Win or lose, I’ll still love them. Go Spurs Go. 

And as a bonus, I’m going to share with you the cheer my brother made up for the Spurs during the 1999 season. He’ll probably murder me if he finds out I shared this, but I just think it’s totally awesome that his 8 year old self made this up: Go Spurs Go, you can really beat ‘em up, Goooooo Spurs!

 

And if that doesn't win you over, not much else will.

This is why I don't have much to say this time

There is an epidemic in my brain; I can’t write anything decent. Everything I type turns to dust. I’ve started numerous blog entries all to just leave them there. I need a writing muse, or something, to encourage me. Or the band. You know, I’m not picky. But as I’ve started these entries with a few lines and left them. And maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Maybe these entries don’t warrant anything more than a line or two. The message from them is so potent that they suffice as is. So here are a few of them, for your reading pleasure:

This is why I haven’t left the house in days (January 2012)
Recently, absolutely no blog writing has gotten done. I’ve had a mistress and her name is Veronica Mars. A modern-day Nancy Drew of sorts, I bought all the seasons and can’t look away.

This is why you can’t think of celebs (March 2012)

Anytime you think of a celeb couple, they fall apart. Think about it. The second I thought about “lasting” Hollywood couples, they get a divorce. Happened with Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt, Courtney Cox and David Arquette, (okay so maybe it’s just with the Friends). This goes for any of them. Except Will and Jada. Never Will and Jada.

This is why I don’t believe in resolutions (January 2012)

New years “resolutions” don’t work.

This is why everyone should (or should not) vote (April 2012)

(credit to Daniel Taylor)

This is why I enjoy my job (May 2012)
I’m sitting at my desk writing this blog instead of actually doing work. But it’s pointless since I can’t get a decent blog post out. So I’ll go watch Friends or something.

This is why I dislike trucks...a lot

I made a finite decision today. It will offend some people; but I always offend people. This week my vendetta is against trucks. I have driven trucks, I have been in trucks, and I know people who own trucks. This does not mean I approve of them. Story time:

Today I had to run a lot of errands. I woke up far earlier than I ever do and drove around more than my body is used to. By lunchtime I was exhausted. Apparently due to some medication I’m on, if I haven’t eaten I start to shake. And I’m not talking about shivers. If I am holding anything or exerting pressure, it looks like I have Parkinson’s. Whilst in the middle of getting on the highway my right leg (YEAH the one you use to drive) started getting out of whack. It’s probably something that should be noted on my license, or something. But whatever. It’s under control as long as I eat in time.

OH and did I mention I have terrible road rage as it is. So I was getting on and off the highway and people would tail me or make an effort to be mean to me because I was going the speed limit. GOD-FORBID I GO THE ACTUAL FACKING SPEED LIMIT. And by “be mean” you know those things drivers do to inform you they aren’t happy with your driving. Like speeding around you or slowing down to glare at you before driving away. And it was only people driving a vehicle significantly larger than my Chevy Cobalt (which is named, Levi. Short for Leviticus).  So getting angry made me shake worse.

I was a mess. Poor Levi had to endure my weird driving habits, which Levi has rarely had to do before. So once I got something to eat and calmed down I rationalized my behavior. Was I taking it all too seriously? Of course I was. Do I care? Of course I do not. So as the irrational person I am, I came up with why trucks need to be banned. (Note, I realize this will never happen except maybe Europe or something. I mean, come on, this is Texas):

1.       Trucks are inefficient on gas: they ruin the environment and cost a lot.

2.       Trucks give people a superiority-complex: truck owners feel like they own the road and can make up traffic rules all willy-nilly.

3.       Car crashes: boom. Other person does not fare well. 

I will, however, get over it. I kind of already am. So don’t take offense if you drive a truck. But please don’t be a jerk about it. I get it; you’re higher up than most other people on the road. You still look like an idiot. This goes for people who drive SUVs, anything higher up, and especially Hummers. Especially Hummers.      

(Look it's me next to my brother's truck. So i can be nice to them, or something)

This is why I can't stand Nicki Minaj

I don’t remember what I was watching, all I know is that Nicki Minaj was on it. Can I just be the one to say it: she’s annoying the ever-living crap out of me. I’m sorry if you’re a fan of hers. Not that I’m sorry about the rant that’s about to happen. I’m sorry that you have terrible taste in music. I’ve not liked musicians before and kept to myself on this blog. And people may say something along the lines of:

“Why don’t you like female rappers?”

“Are you racist?”

 And a slew of other things that just generally are far from true.

No, I am none of those things, just opinionated. Someone told me once that she’s like a black Lady Gaga and I said sure, yeah, whatever; but then I heard her music. I don’t get it. There’s a lot of music “I don’t get.” I don’t understand Dub-step. I don’t like country. I can only be somewhat tolerant of anything that screams. But something about her makes me want to vomit. At least Lady Gaga commits to her persona. 

Anyway, I said the other day that I prefer Ke$ha’s current music to Nicki Minaj. Which is saying a lot since I don’t think she’s on the radio lately. I can’t really attest to that, seeing as how I don’t listen to the radio. Not that I’m against it or anything, I just generally don’t really pay attention. But I do pay attention when weirdos like Nicki interrupt my classy ABC Family shows to advertise, or something. I don’t even know what the commercial was, I muted it.

It’s not like I haven’t given her a chance. I even watched her E! Special. She had a less than encouraging beginning, but don’t we all. But I give all music 15 seconds before I start judging it. And if I don’t believe in the artist as a person, then I won’t support their music. Unpopular opinion,  but that’s why I won’t listen to John Mayer. He just does not seem like a nice guy (and he looks like he smells). But I digress. I thought SuperBass was catchy, until I heard it for the 4123435^th time. Everything after just annoyed me. 

I was about to write that there’s something just fake about her; but then I remembered what she looked like. Also, she’s scary. I’m sure I’ve had a nightmare about her attacking me before. I don’t even want to talk about whatever it was that she did at the Grammys. 

So if you’re still reading this, you’re probably thinking, “Marie, what’s your point ?” There isn’t one. She gets on my nerves. Have a good day. (Everyday’s a good day when you’re not Nicki Minaj).

This is why I need to stop thinking so much

I do not mean to get philosophical right now by any means, nor do I intend to get preachy; but there’s something weird about realizing why something happened the way it did. In the movie, Signs, there’s a long drawn out scene, as typical by M. Night Shyamalan, where they talk about if everything is coincidence or if there’s a greater meaning to everything. Of course in the big scheme of things I have to believe, for my own mental sanity, that there’s a plan. 

I would, however, like to think that this applies even to little every day things. For instance, one time I was riding in the car with my parents when I was around 7 years old. I was thinking my own 7 year old thoughts (which for some ridiculous reason I remember I was thinking about the episode of Pokemon I had seen that day) when our car slowed down to another car trying to get around us. The car that went around us was suddenly side swiped by another car. I remember having a mental tornado of flipping balls. In that moment, at 7 years old, I realized how close our calls are sometimes. So that example isn’t so “little every day things,” but you get the point.

Sometimes I feel like my life is The Truman Show. But then I feel bad about thinking my life affects the actions of that many people, so then I think that I know someone who is the star of an alternate universe and I’m just not in on the joke. Anyways, I write about this today, because I was thinking about how I viewed my life at 15 and how I view it now. 

Why, you might ask, do I think about 15? 15 was “my turn around” year. It was the year where I began seeing why certain things didn’t happen at 12 or 13, and why it all happened for the better. It’s not necessarily that I regret anything (honestly, how much can you regret by 13? That I didn’t change my MySpace layout?); I just see how differently things could’ve been in a semi-taking-a-step-back approach. It’s funny because I realize now that at that time I thought it was the end of this stage of my life where I questioned things. I don’t know, it sounds ridiculous. To think that a 15 year old would view their life as something so finite. When I was 15 I thought that because I had moments of epiphany that the rest of my life would a cake walk in figuring it out.

Well that theory went by the wayside a while back. Maybe at 16. I’m not sure. I know that I’ll look back at 19 and realize that maybe it took me longer to realize why things are happening because they were leading to more epiphanies. To try and decipher any of this is impossible and this is getting all too serious. But there’s a whole slew of clichéd sayings about how everything will be okay in the end. To me, that’s too open. What’s “the end?” When I’m on my deathbed? I don’t want to be like 100 and have everything all suddenly making sense. I want everything to make sense while I still have a life to live. 

Alright so if anyone wants to have a philosophical conversation with me, feel free to initiate. I’m all about that. And not in a “let’s blaze and talk about life.” No, shut up. Other than that, I know that this was way too serious for usual bloggy writing. So to make up for everything, here’s a picture of my best friend’s cat, Bugsy. He’s really fat, and was mad that I kept trying to take pictures of him. So, that should make up for everything.