Traditions & a 40 Oz.

Many families have traditions, perhaps your revolve around the holidays. In 2004, my North Carolina Tar Heels lost to Texas in the NCAA tournament. I had championship hopes for them that year and I was so disappointed when they lost in the sweet 16 that I went to the convenience store on the corner and bought my first 40 oz., a Mickey's 40 to be specific. Thankfully, Carolina won the NCAA tourney the next year and much was redeemed, but in that fateful March night of 2004 a tradition was born. ************************************************************************************* Tonight was the Carolina - Duke game. This is (in my opinion) the best sports rivalry. (For you nutty football fans, I will say it is in the top five for rivalries.) My husband and I commemorate each Duke game with a Mickey's 40...each. This season, since Carolina is unranked and may not make the NCAA tourney, heavy alcohol is really needed to watch the games. Tonight, they played really well for 35 minutes of basketball. (Oh crap, the game lasts 40 minutes.) So, not a success. Between the heavy booze and the constant yelling, the poor dog was scared to death. While I may not be able to be thankful for a NCAA championship (or berth) this year, I am very thankful for a husband that loves Carolina basketball like I do, a husband that will stand in line with miscreants to buy a 40 ounce and request a brown bag for each. Somehow, I picture us at 70 drinking our Mickey's and screaming at the TV. Not many people would be willing to do that and so I know I am really lucky.

The Longest Month

I know that February is technically the shortest month of the year. This is a case where knowing and believing are two really different things. Last week I submitted my final application for graduate school. Based on my prior experience, I the first week of March is when I will either get rejection notifications or requests for interviews. That makes February the longest month, regardless of what the calendar says. Really well-intentioned people keep asking me where I am going back to school, so it's never far from my mind. In just over a month, I'll either find out where I will spend the next five years of my life or find out that this grand experiment of applying to grad school was just a fun (and expensive) diversion. I'd like to think I am assured of getting into at least one of the seven programs I applied to, but admissions rates for accounting PhD programs are around three percent. That's a crazy low number although better than my chances of winning the lottery. Five days in, 23 to go...