Though I've been lax in making blog entries which believe me, leaves me racked with even more guilt than usual,in this, the bitterest cold of the season, these past two weeks have not been without thoughtful reflection, or perhaps, more accurately, wondering how to think when something is dreadfully wrong with that thought process.

Is it humanly possible to leave your car running for seven hours and not know it, you ask?

Yes.

Can one bag of popcorn, burned in the microwave, cause every fire alarm in the building the size of a city block go off, including sirens on the outside of the building blaring into the chill of the city, and prompt the Fond du Lac Fire Department?

Affirmative.

Does a can of lysol feel the EXACT same way as hairspray when you are applying it?

This has been scientifically proven.

The only saving grace to my recent state of mind was a magazine stolen from an unnamed reception room by a further unnamed person who felt that it was his/her duty to pilfer anything, without question, that has Hugh Laurie's face on the cover, and give it to me.

In the name of medical research of course, my own, and the ongoing study of the inner workings of Dr. House, and the show, which is now in it's third season.

It wasn't until Saturday that I finally pinpointed the cause of this atypical brain drain: The mindless images of Badger games flickering across the newsroom television, which is situated directly behind my desk and to the right.

While the majority of males in the newsroom are running amok, eyes agog at the muted WISCONSIN game of whatever sort flickering on the TV screen (and those that aren't are looking wistful and sheepish, pretending to fit in), I experience an overwhelming urge to flip the channel to anything else: House, Gillmore Girls, Ugly Betty, even repeats of America's Funniest Home Videos, and just sit there and watch it, intermittantly emitting gutteral utterances.

It's not something you can really discuss rationally, why sports is news and therefore merits watching at work, while Grey's Anatomy isn't. Are these men aware of the fact Meredith may be floundering at the bottom of the ocean? What is wrong with these people.

It's strange to me, this loyalty to a school or college just because you went there, and the wearing, like groupies, of goofy red shirts and hats. I'm convinced it's a complex of some kind, but I haven't put my finger on it yet. Maybe not enough hugs as a child....

The Badger bantering, always within earshot and sometimes between two men standing and shouting to each other across the newsroom, resembles the passion of young lovers: Blushing with pride, laughing uproariously at a keen observance, speaking in hushed tones of certain.... luscious moves and loyal embraces, shared indignance over a perceived injustice.

Yes people, as ritualistic as mating but this time the stimulous is an entire sports team!

I shall stop here before I get myself in trouble with my jock sister, who will say I am being sexist - women can love sports, but the only sex flocking to the TV in the newsroom and sneaking backward glances as they work, their mouths in the shapes of 0's, are the men.

Here's my only badger experience. We killed one once, a panicked response I regret to this day, to ferocious snarling heard at 1 a.m. on a summer night. It lead to the dog pen and the cornered animal, nose to nose with two male collies, poised in imminent battle. It seemed like avoiding blood shed, and possible rabies, was the right thing to do. The drooling animal had very large teeth.

I can feel bad karma to this day, the Badger bru-ha-ha my penance for the meaningless execution of Bucky...

sigh........will it be over soon??