Cops and Robots.

Not much going on these days. I've settled down a bit since my AAFLgasm on Monday (incidentally, I have been seeing some advertising for Team Texas. They've got a godawful billboard on I-10 and a couple of cheap, cheap - think "local furniture store" cheap - commercials running on ESPN. One of the ads features our smarmy head coach and the other features five players you've never heard of - why they didn't include Eric Crouch is beyond me - and the tagline is "we're all part of Team Texas." Uh huh. Personally, I would've gone with something a little different - a little less generic and maybe a little more memorable? "The AAFL. I know. You've never heard of it. But who gives a shit? It's fuckin' football in the spring!"). Anyway.

So it's no secret how much I hate Tuesdays. My problem with Tuesday is that you're floating in the middle of the week without anything to look forward to. On Monday you can still reach back and touch the weekend. You're refreshed, you're restored, you're a little tired, but so is everyone else. On Wednesday you're halfway home. On Thursday, you've officially made it through most of the week and you can always say, "well, at least tomorrow is Friday." And Friday is just terrific no matter how you slice it. Well what can you say about Tuesday? As far as I'm concerned, that's the meat of the work week.

So imagine my overwhelming joy on Tuesday when I was pulled over on my way to work. (that's the picture I took. I don't know why I didn't just snap a picture of the cop while he was writing the ticket.) Apparently I ran a red light. Okay, I did run a red light, but it wasn't like I went flying through an intersection, killing school children and baby ducks and a chicken and an armadillo and whatever else crosses the street. I just turned right without stopping. No big deal, right? Well, the kind officer ticketed me anyway, which could possibly have been the worst start to a Tuesday ever. So now I either have to pay the city of Houston $230 or do defensive driving. I think I'm gonna do defensive driving. So, umm...be on the lookout for a very boring blog posting on that sometime in the near future.

I was thinking of making Reed some robot pajama pants. Is that a good idea? Would you wear robot jammie pants with pride if someone made them for you?
Beth R.
Austin, TX

I think that's a terrific idea! If someone made me jammie pants (especially robot jammie pants), I would wear them every night of the week. Assuming they're not being made out of burlap or polyester or anything.

How do you make pajama pants anyway? Are you starting from scratch? Buying some fabric? A sewing machine? Making clothes always seemed like the hardest project imaginable. (side note: I caught a marathon of Project Runway last Sunday and, for some reason, I couldn't change the channel. I think I was fascinated by Christian. He's an arrogant little guy, but he's also sort of a prodigy, right?) Although, if you're gonna go the pajamas route, why not make an entire set of footie pajamas, complete with a trap door? Sure, it might get a little hot, but...footie pajamas!