Lost in all the hoopla of Spygate, and “Run-it-up-gate”, and touchdown records, and undefeated season talk, and Super Bowl losing last season was the tragic death of Marquise Hill, a 24-year-old defensive end for the Patriots.

Probably one the most poignant moments of my year so far was meeting Jarvis Green back in January and listening as he discussed the life of Marquise Hill and watching as he displayed the “91″ Purple and Gold shoulder pads he wore. “They don’t quite fit,” he said but he wore them anyway to honor his friend.

Now a full year has passed. Marquise is still remembered and will still be missed – by me anyway.

My boyfriend and I (yes, he’s home already) got into a mini-debate yesterday afternoon over Memorial Day. It all began when we drove past a police roadblock (I’m assuming to catch drunk driving speeders) and I mentioned how I think it’s pretty disgusting that a day meant for a solemn remembrance of our war heroes has turned into an excuse for an all out beer fest slash cook out.

“Ask ten people about the true meaning of Memorial Day,” I said, “and eight of them will say, ‘PARTY TIME!’”

He replied, “What are people supposed to do, be depressed all day? Maybe people don’t want to spend the day feeling miserable.”

That got me thinking. Coming from a military family, I guess this kind of stuff affects me more deeply than others who don’t understand the sacrifices made, not just by the soldiers themselves, but by the entire family. I think the right way to celebrate Memorial Day is a happy medium between the two: you don’t need to spend the afternoon depressed over our deceased war heroes, but you don’t have to completely ignore the fact that today is really about remembering them. Enjoy your cookout knowing that we were given the freedom to choose between Bud Light and Coors Light thanks to the sacrifices of others.

I’ve already discussed the fact that I’ve been watching some basketball lately but what I haven’t mentioned are some of the things I’ve noticed since rediscovering the sport.

For example, one thing that has stuck out in my mind while watching the Celtics is Kevin Garnett. KG. My eyes can’t really tell you what makes one a good basketball player. I mean, there’s the obvious things like can they shoot a basket (or efficiency from the field, or something like that) and when an opposing player can’t make his but when I watch Kevin Garnett’s outstretched arms, basketballs making contact with his fingertips and being caught, the only thing that I can think of is wide receiver. Kevin Garnett would make one hell of a great wide receiver. It’s kind of like what it was like watching Randy Moss before he was a Patriot. “Man, I wish that guy was on my team.” Kevin Garnett with his height, his arms, and his fingertips would be the dream of any NFL quarterback, I think.

I’ve also noticed the lengths to which NBA players will go in an attempt to draw a foul. A slight nudge, albeit from a 7″ giant, will send a player flying backwards, rolling on the ground in “agony”. Now, I’m no player (obviously) but I’ve witnessed NFL players, mostly running backs, get CLOBBERED. Literally clobbered. And they hop right up and head back to the huddle. I guess the NBA player’s motivation is similar to when a punter will fall on the ground and roll around in hopes of drawing a flag. I’m not stupid you know, it’s just something I noticed.

I think what it really comes down to is I desperately miss football. How long until training camp again?

My boyfriend took his son up to his mother’s for the weekend and all I can say is…

I kid, I kid. I’m not trying to be mean and I love my boyfriend but it’s awfully refreshing to have the whole place to myself for the weekend. As any woman will tell you, men are like overgrown children that require all of your attention and dedication. It’s tiring. Half the time, I end the weekend as frazzled as when it began. I don’t have kids but I imagine it’s something similar but thankfully minus the diaper stuff.

But now that I am alone for the weekend, I don’t even know what to do with myself. I’m so used to catering to him that without him here, I’m lost. He has full reign over the remote control so I couldn’t even tell you what to watch on TV. It’s been years since I’ve been able to make myself something that I want to eat without have to factor in his finicky eating habits.

What I have done so far is go out to dinner with my dad and baby sister and after, stopped by my other sister’s new apartment. What a nice apartment! And it’s in the cutest Italian neighborhood. Rod iron fences and Lady Madonna statues galore! I almost wish I lived there.

My plans for tonight include… wait for it… watching two months worth of How I Met Your Mother, two months worth of The Office, and the American Idol finale. Thank God for DVR. And Thank God for having weekends to yourself. I’ll drink to that.

I’ve discovered a perfect method for obtaining a free tank of gas…

Allow your boss to run an errand in your car on the condition he fills the tank. Ta da!

My boss rules!