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Today, I warmed up with this hardcore teen football team. We’re super ready for the scrimmage. We’re caught in a pretty bad losing streak, but this Saturday, I have a feeling we’re going to Whup the Terriers in the A, pretty hard.

Will somebody please just go ahead and give us the Coolest Father Daughter Pair Ever award?

LASAGNA NIGHT!!! Food! Fellowship!!…Murder? Last night, we of House of Home gathered at Kerry and Tibi’s for a reunion of sorts. They prepared an Italian sausage old faithful, and a pesto spinach gooey amazing thing. And we at it all.  And then there were crepes that were prepared with orange butter and cognac and were on fire for a minute. And we drank wine. And we played games. And I was the Mafia. Thankfully, no one was actually killed.

I was JUST about 2 seconds away from telling a general manager that I Loved Him. I was just checking on a check that’s supposed to be en route, and in my haste, I signed ‘Love, Bekah.’  Thankfully I caught myself. I mean I don’t really love the guy, though I do want my money. But I do wish him the ‘Best.’

This week, my Dad has been straightening something out with his Life Insurance policies and has had to email my brothers and I about it…and I just don’t like it! I don’t know about you, but my Daddy is going to live forever. See that’s me, in the corner, believing this.

MY DADDY!!!!!

Creepily loyal fans: I think I have finally watched enough Jersey Shore (4? 5 episodes?) to provide some sort of commentary on it. Honestly, I observe a weird sort of poetry coming out of their mouths. Take Sammi and Ron, and the things they say to each other:

I love you but I hate you right now but I love you right now so I’m going to take care of you right now.

Shakespearean.

And when Snooki and the other one who looks like the rest of them write a secret letter to Sammi, telling of Ron’s cheating, and Ron gets caught – Ron’s response:

I’m definitely not a saint. If I walked into a church, I’d probably burst into flames to be honest with you.  I think I can probably talk my way out of the hole I dug. I mean, how deep is a grave?

EVEN MORE SHAKESPEAREAN.