Swoopes, there it is

I have to say, yesterday was pretty high on the awesome. First, I pay off my student loans. Then, J.R. and I go to Key Arena to pick out our seats as official Storm season-ticket holders (my early birthday present!), and f-ing Sheryl Swoopes is there! At first, J.R. and I just kind of looked at her in awe, what with her being Sheryl Swoopes and all, and then we got down to the business of deciding if seats slightly farther back -- but at center court -- were better than closer seats that were at an angle -- but also right next to the players entrance and Storm bench. It was a tough call, and I made J.R. walk back and forth between the seats several times. In the end, we went with the better court view. And then as we were walking out to leave, we spotted Swoopes again, and I mustered up all my courage and said: "Hi." Luckily, Swoopes is used to dealing with idiots like me and very pleasantly struck up a conversation, mostly about a crazy woman who gave Sheryl Swoopes shit for having a glass of wine during the off season. Hello, did you not notice it was Sheryl Swoopes? I was kind of stunned at the nerve of some people. Bygones. Swoopes was very nice and personable and I only felt incredibly awed.

Then J.R. took me to celebration dinner at the 5 Spot, and I had the brisket and holy deliciousness, Batman. Everything should be made with a Coca-Cola marinade -- like how my dad added beer to everything he cooked? I'm going to add Coke. It can only lead to goodness, people. Also, did I mention I met Sheryl Swoopes?