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Thursday, March 25, 2010

The Crazy Just Keeps on Coming

I hate to be all braggy, but it turns out, I’m some kind of basketball predicting Svengali or prodigy or something. It’s true. As proof I offer you this~

Of all the participants in James’ famous Seize the Bacon Challenge, after 2 rounds of play, I am #1. #1!!

Believe me, I’m just as shocked as you are. It’s nothing short of amazing….or divine intervention....or darn good luck. You decide. Whichever it is, I'll take it.

In other basketball related news (because I know you just can’t get enough) I had to get a new Kentucky shirt. It seems now that everyone is seeing Kentucky for the champions I told you they were, whoever it is that has possession of my shirt is either keeping for themselves or keeping it to annoy me. Either way, I’m sure you'll agree I had to have a new one before tonight’s game. So I ordered one. (It’s just like my old one; I’m superstitious faithful like that.)

I got an e-mail from UPS assuring me that my shirt would arrive yesterday, just in the nick of time. Then I waited all day (I know-my life is so full of thrills, try not to hate me). Finally at 5:30, when I still did not have my shirt I checked the tracking number online and was informed that my shirt had already been delivered. What?!

Believing that my husband and children must be playing a (not too funny) prank I began to interrogate them.
“Are you sure I didn’t get a package?” and “Did Dad tell you to hide it from me?” or “If you really want one I’ll get you one of your own but I NEED that shirt.” And finally “you won’t be laughing when you have to spend the evening in the chokey mister!”

They all swore that, although they are getting a bit concerned about my obsession (my children are such exaggerators), none of them had my shirt. That’s when I figured out what must have happened. Of course, the UPS man had STOLEN my UK shirt. I immediately got online to file a formal complaint, as I pulled up my account information I noticed that the delivery address and my actual address were not the same. Turns out, I’m not as thorough at one in the morning (when I ordered the shirt) as I am at 5:30 in the evening (when I convinced myself there was a conspiracy afoot). I had sent it to my former address.

Luckily they know me there and I was able to arrange a pick up. Can you imagine if my shirt had been turned away and returned to sender?
Safe, sound, and ready for tip off.

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