Mixed bag

Just to clear something up.
Its not just the name of the Philadelphia stadium that I don't like, its most of them. And the reason they all annoy me is because some giant corporation has taken them over, and tacked their name right onto the stadium! I mean, come on. What was wrong with "Candlestick Park". It has (had) carried that name for ages, and now, you want us to call it what? I Refuse. So, its not just Philly. And, even the games carry logo's now. "Tostito's Fiesta Bowl". Sounds like a Taco Hell menu item. I am sure that some sports junky somewhere went off in his blog in more detail about it, and so I will stop at this. Now for my regularly unsponsered blog.

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The walls in my house move. I swear they do. Just like the rocks moved on my Grandfather at Lake Almanor. Just ask my toes. I swear I should wear steel toed boots for life. (Yes I walked into the corner of a wall, are you happy? It hurt like a SOB). I stayed awake many hours yesterday, on purpose. Usually, on my "friday", I take a short nap when I get home, and make myself wake up and function for awhile, so that I can sleep during my nights off like normal people. Yesterday, I got an extremly short nap, because I needed a haircut desperately, and my stylest only had a morning appointment availiable, for a long time. So blearily I went to the beauty salon. Has anyone else noticed that when your tired, sound magnifies by at least ten thousand? Especially gossipy women in a salon. I swear the only peace I got in there was at the end, when she was blow drying my now, much shorter hair. During the haze that was my haircut, the window washer man was washing their windows, and my mind started wandering into the strange zone. He must see into a lot windows, this man, and by the void look on his face as he did the windows, I would hazard a guess that he really doesn't "see" into the windows,anymore. Is he just burned out? Or does he think he's "seen" it all in people's windows? What would it take to surprise him, or make him laugh, or even notice? He is the true definition of being on the outside, and looking in, but when he comes in to clean the inside, is he on the inside, looking out? I told you it was strange. Then the peaceful buzz of the hair dryer turned off and I got forced back into the bright land of chirping, happy women. It was almost painful. The only thing that saved it was that I did get a good haircut out of the deal.