Ashley Fields, VIP...

So last Friday marked a very cool day.

As the clock neared 5:00pm, or so, the head residential lady in the office started small talking about whether or not I was going to the game that night.

Preface: I live in a semi small city in Oregon. Friday nights are game nights. My parents have had tickets to both schools (North Medford and South Medford) since the 90's (when my brother played. Even though he graduated 10 years ago, they still go 'cuz it their time together), and occasionally I've accompanied them as an adult. And since my dad's been gone on business the past Fridays, I've gone so my mom has someone to go with. This is common knowledge where I work as we all discuss football a great deal before the game and then again on Monday morning.

I told her I hadn't really thought of it since it'd been kinda crazy all week. I just didn't remember that there was a game, nor did I know who was playing. I did plan on going out for a run that evening with Stacey, but that was as far as my brain got. Not my best week.

Out of nowhere, she told me that I should take the tickets to the game. The office tickets. The office skybox tickets. Seriously?

Yes.

I'm not sure what the technical height of our seats were, but we were on top of the roof. It's a pretty bitchin' stadium. It's one of the top 5 in the state. And you can see the radio staff boxes on the visitors side of the stadium. That's where we were, except the home side is a lot wider. And just a note: the home side is way more bitchin' than the visitors side. That side is weak sauce.

And one of the cool things was that the concession stand cost less than down below where the commoners were, lol. I mean, it makes sense considering the tickets are more expensive being on the top of the roof. But hey, I'm not going to complain about a 50 cent red rope. Mmm, corn syrup and red dye 40. Delicious.

Here's my date. Glad she wasn't afraid of heights. And another great thing about that night was I had a beer with my dinner. That always makes for a good evening. Too bad I had to ruin the happy thoughts with a Saturday morning workout of lifting, step aerobics, hip hop, and yoga. One word: sore. I haven't lifted since high school. I mean I've done 12 oz. bicep curls. But not good ol' fashioned moving barbells. Yowzas. And step aerobics. Where did my rhythm go? Oh, that's right. It's in the ballet classroom. Not emulating Jane Fonda. Eh, not a real loss.