Being a football fanatic is no easy task for the female gender. Guys either take you as a “stupid girl” who knows nothing or are thoroughly impressed by your knowledge of said sports.

Growing up on the east coast, 30 miles south of D.C. dubbed me a Washington Redskins fan. The NFL was the highlight of high school lunches during the fall. Jason, a friend, and I would chant the Redskins’ victory song every Friday and Monday regardless of a win or loss the day before.

It wasn’t until after I proved my vast knowledge of the NFL in general that I was able to chant along with Jason and chime in to the football discussions. Girl friends of mine would sit there rolling their eyes with the expression written on their faces of, “Here Sarah goes again.”

The ashtrays are gone, the “Breathe Easy” signs are posted at every entrance to OCCC, the new student orientation has taken place and yet there are still some people who think they can sit outside the buildings of this campus and smoke cigarettes.

If this were a Facebook post, there would be a three-letter expletive inserted here, but instead, “really?”

For those who either do not understand, or choose not to adhere to the non-smoking policy that began Aug. 1, please be aware that the campus police will be enforcing the ban.

Many of these songs may not necessarily be about summetime but the melodies and tempos will get your summertime mood in full swing.

Here are some now oldies but goldies I used to listen to as a young pup while hanging out at the lake with my friends.

The following list is in no particular order:

Michele Bachman has become famous not because she is another female running for president but she has become famous for saying the dumbest !#$@*.

There is really not enough time in the day for me to type out all of the foolishness that has come out of her mouth.

Michelle has made a name for herself among many Americans and that name would be complete dumbass.

On June 27, the U.S. Supreme Court voted 7-2 in a decision to strike down a California law that would have prohibited the sale of what the state considered to be, “violent” video games to minors; citing the decision was based on preserving the 1st Amendment rights of those under the age of 18.

Among those opposing the law was Justice Antonin Scalia, who spoke for five of the members of the court who voted against the measure.

“There is no tradition in this country of specially restricting children’s access to depictions of violence,” Scalia said.

I was driving home from the college a few days ago when an ambulance with his lights and sirens on headed in my direction from the opposite side of the four-lane road I was on. As usual, I pulled over to the right and waited for it to pass. Much of the other traffic around me, however, did not.

It got me thinking about how dangerous it can be and is when emergency vehicles of any sort need to pass through high traffic areas.

It reminded me also of a time when my own mother didn’t know what to do when an ambulance came up behind us on the interstate.

Would you please take a moment to look at my last name. What comes to your mind?

I’ll share with you some of the things people have asked me or simply accused me of.

“Are you related to Saddam?” Or better yet, for what seemed like endless months after the 9/11 attacks, I wasn’t allowed to answer the phone anymore because people would stoop so far as to open a phone book and look up every “terrorist” name to give them a call and give us a piece of their mind. I was 11 years old.

Recently, almost the entire staff of the Pioneer went to lunch in the cafeteria simultaneously. This is a rare occurrence, as we are usually too busy with our various projects to go to lunch together.

Our lab assistant elected to have a pizza covered in jalapenos. Afterwards, while outside indulging our shared nicotine addiction, he complained that the jalapenos hadn’t been hot enough for him.

Why does any of this matter? Well, it reminded me of one of the many, many stories about my grandfather.

I grew up in an Asian-American household. My father immigrated from China in 1974. My mother joined my father in the United States a few years later. She is from Davao City in the Philippines.

We never said, “I love you,” or hugged each other at all when I was growing up.

Sometimes, I wonder how much of an effect this has had on me. I am definitely not as stoic as my father was.

If you wander to the College Union in search of some lunch during the week, brace yourself for quite the unexpected sight in a college cafeteria: teenagers.

We’re not talking about just one or two. We’re talking about dozens of them, sporting their band T-shirts and Justin Bieber bangs, talking obnoxiously loud amongst one another as they salivate over steaming French fries and onion rings.