Last season when he announced he was done, forever, the first words out of my mouth when I heard were, “BS. He’ll be back.” My next words were, “Mark my words, he’ll be back.” And low and behold, football season begins to start rolling around and, BAM! He’s back. Surprise, surprise…

Tell me, when did it become okay for tv to be interrupted by “breaking news” about Brett Favre? When did we cross the line as a society that makes it okay to idolize celebrities? Why is it okay for Brett Favre to keep toying with his fans, “I’m leaving…” then, “I’m back!” and, “I’m leaving…” once again, “I’m back!” I’m not the only person who’s sick of it, and it needs to stop.

Thanks for listening to my rant. Does anybody agree or disagree, or care to share their opinion as to why they officially hate me?

I had just moved in earlier in the week and some friends convinced me to go out for drinks with them as a celebration for the successful move. Well, needless to say, we got pretty hammered. So when our designated driver dropped me off, I left my purse in her car. My purse which held my house keys in it. So, it was two in the morning and I was wandering around outside my house looking for the spare key. By the time I had tripped over the rain gutters twice, patio furniture, potted plants, and myself I was ready to either give up or cry. I was suddenly confronted by a very tall, muscular man weilding a bat, and what would any normal drunk scared girl do? Scream. Then laugh. Then hug him, squeeze his butt, and laugh harder. And then again, maybe I’m not normal. And some part of my brain was remotely tuned in, because I heard the words “… called… cops…” and “… way.” That sobered me up a bit. Though it could’ve been the flashing lights and sirens that came screeching down the road and skid to halt in my driveway. I spent the night in holding because I was drunk and couldn’t produce my ID, being that it was in my purse, which was in my friend Jessie’s car, who was currently passed out on her couch.

“I’m SO sorry!” Jessie repeated the next afternoon as she pulled up in my driveway and handed me my purse.

“I’m fine, you’re fine, it’s okay.” All I wanted to do was crash on my comfortable bed with all the shades drawn and sleep forever. Jessie looked at me like she wanted to comment, but the look I shot her must’ve made her change her mind.

“Okay, then I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” I got out of her Honda Civic and just waved over my shoulder, concentrating on the thought of my plush bed. I heard her pull out as I was digging in my purse for my keys, and had just gotten them out when I heard someone yell.

“Hey!” I squeezed my eyes shut tightly before opening them and turning around, but by the time I had turned a man was in my face. Or his chest was. His face was glaring down at me, his hands positioned on his hips in an offensive stance. “What are you doing here again?”

“I happen to live here.” I swiveled and unlocked the door, then turned back as proof. “Now,” I placed my hands on my hips, “do you have anything to say to me?”

“No, why should I?” He shrugged, and it was then that my control snapped. I was tired, had a raging headache, and now had my new neighbor pestering me.

“Aaaaeeeerrrrrgggggggghhh!!” I yelled then slammed the door in his face, thinking I’d feel some type of satisfaction from it, but any satisfaction I felt was drowned out by the pounding in my head.