Just call me the Pigskin Goddess.

I know that I've been remiss of late in posting newsy, heartfelt, humorous or knitworthy posts. I admit I've been sucked into StumbleUpon goodness (coining the new verb to stumble, as in "Don't bother me now I'm stumbling" or "Look what I found while I was stumbling"). But I digress....

Really I suppose I was lacking inspiration. It came in unexpected form today.

For those of you who know me, and even those who don't, I was born completely devoid of the sports gene. Yes, sadly, I cannot play sports nor can I really enjoy them. And really, it runs in the family. I make exceptions of course for USC football and the occasional live game taken in with friends. I rarely watch sports on tv. It just isn't my thing.

I was a cheerleader for one solitary year in middle school. Apparently I had to be told what our cheer for the defense actually meant ("Dig in big D. Hold that line!")

My boyfriend in high school was in the marching band. Since he was always there I attended countless games. Other than following the dogpile and cheering for touchdowns, I remained relatively clueless as to what actually constituted playing football.

So where am I going with this you might ask?

I won last week's football pool at work.

Give that a moment to sink in. Yup me, the anti-sport. I got asked several times today, by people much more into sports than I (and sadly, much angrier at losing the pool) what my method was for picking the winning teams. I only wish I had one.

(Last year I picked the BOLDED teams each week. Little did I know that just indicated where the game would be played.)

All future inquiries should be directed to the Pigskin Goddess. That is all.