In order to stay consistent with my "blogging", I am writing about the two weekends "sandwiched" around Mardi Gras while I compile the best pictures to properly describe our Mardi Gras 2009.
1. Top Bun--Baby Maybe
Chris, Courtney, and the Cup Cate came for a visit the weekend before Mardi Gras or NBA All-Star Weekend for you sports fans. It had been about 6 months since we had seen the Cup Cate Family and we always enjoy their visits. We had a great time at Bistro Daisy, Pontchartrain, and Barkus--among other things.
Most of you know that the running joke at 931 Harmony is that my ovaries are rotting waiting for JSH to hit 30 before we start a family. Translation: I was ready to start a family yesterday whilst JSH still wants to travel and "be a couple" before we start kickin' out DD3s. While this is not entirely true from both sides, it makes for a good joke amongst our friends. Cup Cate has turned into the poster child for "rotting ovary" syndrome.
Cup Cate's last visit was in October and she tortured me the whole weekend. She would smile, giggle, and bat her eyes at me and then as I would try to pick her up, play with her, or interact with her in any way, she would simply say, "No." It got so bad that as soon as I walked into a room and made eye contact with her, the word "No" would come flying out of her mouth---almost like a Pavlovian response.
Beau=No.
I even tried to bribe her with a stupid foam finger that I got at a Saints game that weekend. Nothing worked and, thus, she was deemed "Baby No."
I thought that our 6 month "break" might change things and she would be more receptive to hanging with Uncle Beau or, maybe, I am Uncle "Neaux" in her mind. Things were better. Kinda. While we played much more together and I got her to laugh or to repeat words ("tchoup shop" and "jambalaya" were fan favorites), she still did not let me pick her up. I settled for "hi-fives" instead.
"Baby No" had grown into "Baby Maybe"
My ovaries will take what they can get.
There is apparently a picture of what "rotting ovary syndrome" looks like in action----and here it is:
2. Bottom Bun-Kelvin's Worst Nightmare
On Friday night, the Milwaukee Bucks were in town to battle your New Orleans Hornets.
As most of you know, I am a HUGE Indiana Basketball fan. This particular game was circled on my calendar/schedule because Kelvin Sampson is now an assistant coach with the Bucks. If you follow sports at all, you will remember that Coach Sampson ran the Indiana basketball program into the ground for recruiting violations (impermissible phone calls, etc) and was fired for same before the end of last season. In his wake, he left a program with one returning scholarship player and a new coach scrambling to fill out the roster with somewhat serviceable players. Recently, IU even suited up an equipment manager to fill in as a player on the team.
Indiana University has a storied basketball program from 5 National Championships, to Bob Knight, to a rabid fan base that is as passionate as any in the country. What Coach Sampson did to that program in a little under 2 full years verges on the criminal in my mind. Thus, Friday night was my opportunity to enact a little revenge.
Jeff, Matthew, Tony, Jason, Charlie Murphy, and I attended the game where we sat 5 rows from half court opposite the teams' benches and the scorer's table. We were close enough to be seen and to be heard. Jeff was on board for the heckle-fest and put together 5-7 signs for us to use over the course of 48 minutes of basketball. In addition, Jeff, Charlie Murphy, and I all sported Indiana University shirts for the occasion.
Examples of our signs include:
"Kelvin brought texty back"
"Hey Kelvin, Can you Hear Me Now?" *with a picture of Sampson's head photo shopped on the Verizon dude's head*
A MasterCard "priceless" spoof that is too long to go into
Anywho, when the coaches and players came out on the court before tip off, we struck.
Jeff, Charlie Murphy and I stood up with our signs and yelled multiple things. I don't remember what exactly was said as I was blinded by rage.
Coach Sampson heard us, looked over, did a double-take, and then, simply, nodded to us.
Success!
In addition, during each timeout or break in play the rest of the night where the coaches would huddle near the lane, Coach Sampson decided to turn his back to us.
The rest, as they say, was lagniappe.
The only thing I really remember saying was that I would be waiting for Coach Sampson after halftime and wasn't going anywhere.
Jeff also had everyone in our section cracking up by yelling at Coach Sampson to "text to win!" for some contest the Hornets held for fans in which they could text answers to a trivia question.
Not my most mature moment in life but it was fun. For those of you that have passion for your various alma maters or other sports teams, you know what I'm talking about.
"Kelvin--I will be right here waiting after halftime. Me and you, buddy. Me and you!!!"
1. Top Bun--Baby Maybe
Chris, Courtney, and the Cup Cate came for a visit the weekend before Mardi Gras or NBA All-Star Weekend for you sports fans. It had been about 6 months since we had seen the Cup Cate Family and we always enjoy their visits. We had a great time at Bistro Daisy, Pontchartrain, and Barkus--among other things.
Most of you know that the running joke at 931 Harmony is that my ovaries are rotting waiting for JSH to hit 30 before we start a family. Translation: I was ready to start a family yesterday whilst JSH still wants to travel and "be a couple" before we start kickin' out DD3s. While this is not entirely true from both sides, it makes for a good joke amongst our friends. Cup Cate has turned into the poster child for "rotting ovary" syndrome.
Cup Cate's last visit was in October and she tortured me the whole weekend. She would smile, giggle, and bat her eyes at me and then as I would try to pick her up, play with her, or interact with her in any way, she would simply say, "No." It got so bad that as soon as I walked into a room and made eye contact with her, the word "No" would come flying out of her mouth---almost like a Pavlovian response.
Beau=No.
I even tried to bribe her with a stupid foam finger that I got at a Saints game that weekend. Nothing worked and, thus, she was deemed "Baby No."
I thought that our 6 month "break" might change things and she would be more receptive to hanging with Uncle Beau or, maybe, I am Uncle "Neaux" in her mind. Things were better. Kinda. While we played much more together and I got her to laugh or to repeat words ("tchoup shop" and "jambalaya" were fan favorites), she still did not let me pick her up. I settled for "hi-fives" instead.
"Baby No" had grown into "Baby Maybe"
My ovaries will take what they can get.
There is apparently a picture of what "rotting ovary syndrome" looks like in action----and here it is:
2. Bottom Bun-Kelvin's Worst Nightmare
On Friday night, the Milwaukee Bucks were in town to battle your New Orleans Hornets.
As most of you know, I am a HUGE Indiana Basketball fan. This particular game was circled on my calendar/schedule because Kelvin Sampson is now an assistant coach with the Bucks. If you follow sports at all, you will remember that Coach Sampson ran the Indiana basketball program into the ground for recruiting violations (impermissible phone calls, etc) and was fired for same before the end of last season. In his wake, he left a program with one returning scholarship player and a new coach scrambling to fill out the roster with somewhat serviceable players. Recently, IU even suited up an equipment manager to fill in as a player on the team.
Indiana University has a storied basketball program from 5 National Championships, to Bob Knight, to a rabid fan base that is as passionate as any in the country. What Coach Sampson did to that program in a little under 2 full years verges on the criminal in my mind. Thus, Friday night was my opportunity to enact a little revenge.
Jeff, Matthew, Tony, Jason, Charlie Murphy, and I attended the game where we sat 5 rows from half court opposite the teams' benches and the scorer's table. We were close enough to be seen and to be heard. Jeff was on board for the heckle-fest and put together 5-7 signs for us to use over the course of 48 minutes of basketball. In addition, Jeff, Charlie Murphy, and I all sported Indiana University shirts for the occasion.
Examples of our signs include:
"Kelvin brought texty back"
"Hey Kelvin, Can you Hear Me Now?" *with a picture of Sampson's head photo shopped on the Verizon dude's head*
A MasterCard "priceless" spoof that is too long to go into
Anywho, when the coaches and players came out on the court before tip off, we struck.
Jeff, Charlie Murphy and I stood up with our signs and yelled multiple things. I don't remember what exactly was said as I was blinded by rage.
Coach Sampson heard us, looked over, did a double-take, and then, simply, nodded to us.
Success!
In addition, during each timeout or break in play the rest of the night where the coaches would huddle near the lane, Coach Sampson decided to turn his back to us.
The rest, as they say, was lagniappe.
The only thing I really remember saying was that I would be waiting for Coach Sampson after halftime and wasn't going anywhere.
Jeff also had everyone in our section cracking up by yelling at Coach Sampson to "text to win!" for some contest the Hornets held for fans in which they could text answers to a trivia question.
Not my most mature moment in life but it was fun. For those of you that have passion for your various alma maters or other sports teams, you know what I'm talking about.
"Kelvin--I will be right here waiting after halftime. Me and you, buddy. Me and you!!!"
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