Thank you Sheldon Brown! And check out my eyebrows, too.

All right, I have to admit it. Watching the Eagles play the Jets this week was about as much fun as plucking my eyebrows. It has to be done, and I’m pissy when I can’t get to it, but it’s sort of painful and it makes me sneeze. When it’s all over I feel much better and can approach life with a more positive attitude. What an analogy, eh? Ok, forget the sneezing part. But otherwise, spot on.

Aside from the game itself, which had its better and worse points, from my perspective, Sunday evening was a bit frustrating.

First of all, we had problems with Sopcast again. AGAIN!!! I am getting pretty tired of watching the little buffer indicator hover between 75 and 85. Once in a while we get an instant of sound, which lifts the spirits for about the same span of time, and then drops them back to “WHY CAN’T I BUY THE NFL GAME PASS, MR. EC? WHY DO I HAVE TO SUFFER EVERY WEEK! SHELL OUT THE CASH!!” until eventually Sopcast catches on that the links suck and offers a new one and I am happy. For a time.

So I’m there, doing the weekly ironing (I do this during the first half of every early game. That way, Mr. EC can have his stupid laptop to watch his fantasy scores, and it’s too early for me to get upset about my own. He’s not good at announcing other peoples’ scores. For instance, he’ll call out, “Touchdown Minnesota.” And I’ll say, “Who?” hoping that it’s Chester Taylor, and he’ll say, “Minnesota.” And I’ll say, “WHO on Minnesota?” and he’ll say, “Who cares?” blah blah blah, unless it’s his own player, in which case he’ll say “Peterson. HA HA HA!” You get the picture)… Anyway, yes, so I’m there, doing the weekly ironing, trying to enjoy the second quarter of the Eagles game (we missed the entire first quarter because of the connection problems), cursing over Akers’ blown FGs, when the phone rings.

Lucky for me, the call is for Mr. EC. He goes in the other room to talk while I then finish up the ironing and take over the Captain’s chair with the remote and laptop handy. I distract myself from the offense/kicking woes of the Birds by flipping through my fantasy scores and checking out the other games at halftime. Mr. EC comes back a few minutes later, beers in hand, and even lets me stay at the laptop without too much complaint. Life is pretty good.

Kickoff of the second half: a time of promise and hope. I’m settling in, enjoying my spot (if not the early fantasy scores, which were mixed), when the phone rings again. This time, it’s my cell. I consider not answering it, but I’m afraid the thing will wake the baby and besides, it’s a knee-jerk reaction to pick it up. Who’s it gonna be, anyway, some friend who’s been long lost in backwoods China and has finally returned to the civilized world and chooses 8:45 pm on Sunday evening (2:45 pm eastern time, or 11:45 am pacific time) to call me? No way, right? All of my friends know what I’m doing at that time of day.

Damn!!! I guess he thought, “Well, I know EC will be home at this time. She’s watching the football game. This is a perfect time to catch up about my year in China, and afterwards I can watch my Raiders.” GRRRR.

So I watched the 3rd quarter without sound, which is a shame, since I already missed the first quarter, and the third was definitely the best after that… but anyway, I did get my friend, who was chock full of exciting stories about the spitting problem in China, off the phone before the fourth quarter. Which was the part of the game that was the most like eyebrow plucking.

I was so upset and nervous, I almost couldn’t watch the last offensive series for the Jets. But my man Sheldon Brown came through for me, breaking up the play to (my fantasy man) Laveranues Coles on fourth down, and I breathed a big, fat, sigh of relief.

So the Eagles have improved to 2-3, which is definitely something to sneeze at. But it’s a whole heckuva lot better than 1-4, so I will keep smiling. Besides, my eyebrows look really great, and that should last for at least a week.