NP: Freiburg v. Kaiserslautern (TV)

Penning entries during Bundesliga games is somewhat of an adventure, but I have to say, I spelled "Kaiserslautern" correctly on the first try. And American Clint Mathis has apparently scored again, but in a different BL match than this one. Way to go, Clint.

Anyway, because I have a lot of time to devote to these sorts of intellectual (stop laughing!) pursuits, I wonder aloud why Leap Day isn't more of a big deal. This day doesn't always exist. How cool is that?

In fact, I think it should be taken further. Today should exist totally out of time. February 28th should be Saturday, March 1st should be Sunday, except the 29th should be a full day in between. No work, no adherence to regular schedules, no nothing. Granted, I have no idea if this holds up from the astronomy/astrophysics/whatever POV of Earth's rotation or orbit, and it would wreak holy hell on the timer on your VCR (I'm sorry, TiVo, I'm such a Luddite), but think of the possibilities. It's already the day from Brigadoon, why not go all the way?

I wanted Nitrous Foxide to countdown to Leap Day like it was New Year's last night, but fomenting direction on that particular operation is not unlike the proverbial herding of cats, and we on the musical support side are trying hard to minimize our effort levels. We'd rather let the singers to the heavy lifting, except in the case of actual heavy lifting, which they don't do only in part because they're girls.

That gig seemed to work well as big rock show, but not as much as convenient birthday celebration. Participation from Coz-centric friends was, as it has a nasty tendency to be, zero. Given the tenor of the last couple of days, I shouldn't be particularly surprised. Although I did start everyone singing "Happy Birthday" to me when the drum solo at the end of Zeppelin's "Rock and Roll" came up. The gig didn't work as a cathartic drink-a-lot-to-take-your-mind-off-shit evening, either, by way of our comped beers being crappy domestics. On the one (entirely depressing) hand, I'm apparently no longer too proud to drink crappy domestic beer when it's free, but on the other, I can't get excited enough about it to drink it to any kind of excess, which is what the situation really called for.

Except that's a gross exaggeration to make me sound, I don't know, like the kind of person who drinks to excess when his life sucks. Which I'm clearly not. Yes, I've had a mildly self-destructive bent since about Thursday, but I'm not quite that far gone. Unless you're buying, of course.

The big take-home from the gig, though, is I really need to start practicing again. I can execute all the normal stuff, no problem, but I was just tacitly unable to reach for anything particularly interesting. Sometimes you need to throw a jaw-dropping -- or at least eyebrow-raising -- fill into a song where nobody expects it, just to see if anyone is paying attention, and I sorta failed miserably on that account. This is one of those things that I have to just deal with, because anyone I talk to will probably not have the faintest idea anything was amiss.

Maybe later. Squire just called, and we're going to take advantage of the weather and get a kickaround of sorts going. Which I've been tempted to do on my own lately, 'cause I'm feeling massively out of shape. Or in a different, more pear-like shape than I, or any right-thinking female (if I might be self-deprecating about my social life for the three hundred thousandth time regardless of the actual truth -- or potential truth because how would I know, and there I go again, three hundred thousand and one. Wow what a fun little parenthetical this is turning out to be. I like pie. Okay, now I'm done.) of the matter, would care for.