It seems as though my social dance card is once again empty...or at least the pickings are VERY slim. Let's review:
The Announcer
After meeting him at a Cubs game several weeks ago and receiving an invitation to meet him in Milwaukee soon after, I never heard from him again. However, I had already purchased tickets to the Cubs/Nationals game in DC in July, so I'm weighing my options on whether or not to call him before I arrive in DC.
Status: Acquaintances, if that.
The Editor
Having met him for dinner, drinks and an unexpected goodnight kiss, I wasn't particularly surprised to find that he was looking for a date for an upcoming wedding. I have no interest in him as a friend much less as a potential date, so I politely declined the invitation.
Status: Dead in the water as far as I'm concerned.
Dancing Lawyer
He's been out of town the past few weekends, but he's managed to keep in touch via cell phone even when I was in St. Louis. If I could surgically remove several wonderful features of the Dancing Lawyer (good job, attentiveness, good manners) and insert them into an older, more sophisticated, more attractive, more wordly man - what a catch that would be!!!
Status: Terminal.
Flight Attendant
Quite possibly the worst would-be boyfriend (even if he didn't live out of town). Invited me to a Cubs game waaaayy in advance and then didn't contact me AT ALL until one hour (!) before said game! Uh, yeah, right! Since then, he's texted me a few times when he watching a Cubs game and he thinks I might be too. Too much work on my part for too little return. And he's not that cute.
Status: Not worth more than an occasional text, if that! DOA.
In light of this, I've decided to jump into summer with both feet and be EVERYWHERE! (Okay, even if Mother Nature isn't quite cooperating with her crappy 60s and 70s-ish weather!!!). So far, the activities include:
- a graduate school grad party tonight with FC2
- a day of volunteer service tomorrow (also with FC2) that should include painting and or planting stuff.
- bleacher seats for a Cubs night game on Wednesday.
- corporate outing at Arlington Park Racecourse in a few weeks.
- bar-b-q at Violet's place next week.
- volunteer bartending job for one night at a HUGE street festival in July.
- beach volleyball on Wednesday nights.
With all of that people-meeting, I hope my dance card won't be empty for long! Anybody wanna join me??
Friday, June 09, 2006
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Monday, June 05, 2006
In enemy territory without reinforcements
On a whim, I decided to roadtrip to St. Louis and support my Cubs in their efforts against the rat-bastard Cardinals. Keep in mind that my boys are languishing in fifth place while St. Louis sits atop the division.
Here is my weekend, by the numbers:
300 - number of miles between Chicago and St. Louis.
3.5 - number of hours it took me to get to St. Louis on Saturday morning
0 - number of speeding tickets received (whew!)
2 - number of games my Cubs took from the Cardinals (of a 3-game series YAY!)
4 - number of blocks from the new Busch Stadium my hotel was located
3 - number of drinks offered to me by locals
65 - age of first St. Louis man I met (investment banker who drives a pickup truck...seriously!)
5 - number of Chicago Cubs personnel I met while at dinner Saturday night (including Dusty Baker, Ryan Dempster, Glendon Rusch, Derrek Lee and Jacque Jones)
11 - time of evening that Dancing Lawyer called me after I texted him about Cubs encounter.
88 - dollars spent on each ticket in the elite section of the new Busch Stadium
7 - inning in which the supposedly "elite" food court closed!
69 - price of my hotel room (and a Radisson next to the Arch, no less!)
15.75 - dollars spent to buy a flame-baked pizza and a large beer at Busch
The look on closer Ryan Dempster's face when a young Cubs fan repeatedly called to him to get an autograph - - except that he called him "Kerry Wood!"
PRICELESS!
Here is my weekend, by the numbers:
300 - number of miles between Chicago and St. Louis.3.5 - number of hours it took me to get to St. Louis on Saturday morning
0 - number of speeding tickets received (whew!)
2 - number of games my Cubs took from the Cardinals (of a 3-game series YAY!)
4 - number of blocks from the new Busch Stadium my hotel was located
3 - number of drinks offered to me by locals
65 - age of first St. Louis man I met (investment banker who drives a pickup truck...seriously!)
5 - number of Chicago Cubs personnel I met while at dinner Saturday night (including Dusty Baker, Ryan Dempster, Glendon Rusch, Derrek Lee and Jacque Jones)
11 - time of evening that Dancing Lawyer called me after I texted him about Cubs encounter.
88 - dollars spent on each ticket in the elite section of the new Busch Stadium
7 - inning in which the supposedly "elite" food court closed!
69 - price of my hotel room (and a Radisson next to the Arch, no less!)
15.75 - dollars spent to buy a flame-baked pizza and a large beer at Busch
The look on closer Ryan Dempster's face when a young Cubs fan repeatedly called to him to get an autograph - - except that he called him "Kerry Wood!"
PRICELESS!
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
What.do.you.want?
Looking back on my "date" with The Editor, I don't think I mentioned that I came right out and asked him why he contacted me. Honestly, I didn't give a rat's ass about how the evening ended and if I was being abrupt. I mean JEEZ! we hadn't seen each other in over six years!
His answer?
"Well, I was thinking about you and when that basketball tournament came up, I knew you'd be interested in helping out."
NOT!!!
After the kiss, I knew the out-of-the-blue call had nothing to do with some shitty basketball tournament. But it gets better.
Friday: we met for drinks and dinner.
Saturday: email from The Editor thanking me for meeting him and saying he'll call me soon.
WHY???
On Monday, the other shoe finally dropped. The Editor sent me another email, asking me if I'd be interested in going to a wedding with him in June.
A HA!!
How do I nicely say, "not a chance in hell!"?
His answer?
"Well, I was thinking about you and when that basketball tournament came up, I knew you'd be interested in helping out."
NOT!!!
After the kiss, I knew the out-of-the-blue call had nothing to do with some shitty basketball tournament. But it gets better.
Friday: we met for drinks and dinner.
Saturday: email from The Editor thanking me for meeting him and saying he'll call me soon.
WHY???
On Monday, the other shoe finally dropped. The Editor sent me another email, asking me if I'd be interested in going to a wedding with him in June.
A HA!!
How do I nicely say, "not a chance in hell!"?
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Life Lessons I Learned from Baseball
1. Although you are ultimately responsible only for your own behavior, you will attain greater success if you work well with others.
2. Patience pays off.
3. Sometimes you have to make a small sacrifice for the greater good.
4. Don't make other people feel bad about their failure even when you succeed.
5. Try your hardest all the time and your efforts will eventually be rewarded.
6. Listen to your body's needs. If you're hurt, don't push it.
7. Use the right equipment for your job.
8. If you are fortunate enough to have a veteran near you, ask them questions and then LISTEN!
9. Sometimes you have to take risks to reap big benefits.
10. Flash can lead to fame, but consistency leads to longevity.
2. Patience pays off.
3. Sometimes you have to make a small sacrifice for the greater good.
4. Don't make other people feel bad about their failure even when you succeed.
5. Try your hardest all the time and your efforts will eventually be rewarded.
6. Listen to your body's needs. If you're hurt, don't push it.
7. Use the right equipment for your job.
8. If you are fortunate enough to have a veteran near you, ask them questions and then LISTEN!
9. Sometimes you have to take risks to reap big benefits.
10. Flash can lead to fame, but consistency leads to longevity.
Drinks with The Editor
So The Editor and I made plans to meet at a downtown bar after work Friday. He was driving from the far south suburbs and I was taking the "L" from the other side of downtown, so I wasn't surprised when I didn't see him when I walked in.
Since it was a beautifully warm afternoon, I raced up to the bar's rooftop deck when I arrived at 5-ish. The plan was to meet at 5:15-5:30, so I grabbed a quick beer and found a spot at a table. The Editor and I worked together for seven years in the sports department of a south suburban newspaper, but I hadn't seen him in about that many years.
Okay, this might sound bad, but I really didn't care if I saw The Editor or not. We were business friends* years ago, but not having him in my life in the past six or seven years hasn't exactly left a gaping hole. I admit to an itty-bitty amount of curiosity about his re-appearance in my life, but I certainly wouldn't die if I didn't find out.
So 5:15 passes and no Editor. 5:30 comes and goes. It's now 5:45 and I'm thinking that he should call if he's stuck in traffic or lost, so I call his cell phone.
He's downstairs at the bar and has been for over an hour! Says he'll finish his beer and be up in a little while.
Not surprisingly, he looks the same, but older. We have the type of conversation that you'd expect: reminiscing about people from the newsroom, sharing bits of updated info about our lives, wondering aloud about former colleagues with whom we've lost touch.
We decided to go downstairs and get some food, which The Editor ended up paying for. I was irritated because I had planned on paying my part (as friends do).
He said, "You can get the next one."
Um, what?
Leaving the restaurant, The Editor offered a ride home, but I preferred to take the "L" and end the evening soon. We hugged and then I found myself on the unavoidable end of a kiss!
So there it was, Date #4 whether I wanted it or not.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* Business friends - - people with whom you have a temporary friendship because you work together. You probably wouldn't be friends without the work relationship.
Since it was a beautifully warm afternoon, I raced up to the bar's rooftop deck when I arrived at 5-ish. The plan was to meet at 5:15-5:30, so I grabbed a quick beer and found a spot at a table. The Editor and I worked together for seven years in the sports department of a south suburban newspaper, but I hadn't seen him in about that many years.
Okay, this might sound bad, but I really didn't care if I saw The Editor or not. We were business friends* years ago, but not having him in my life in the past six or seven years hasn't exactly left a gaping hole. I admit to an itty-bitty amount of curiosity about his re-appearance in my life, but I certainly wouldn't die if I didn't find out.
So 5:15 passes and no Editor. 5:30 comes and goes. It's now 5:45 and I'm thinking that he should call if he's stuck in traffic or lost, so I call his cell phone.
He's downstairs at the bar and has been for over an hour! Says he'll finish his beer and be up in a little while.
Not surprisingly, he looks the same, but older. We have the type of conversation that you'd expect: reminiscing about people from the newsroom, sharing bits of updated info about our lives, wondering aloud about former colleagues with whom we've lost touch.
We decided to go downstairs and get some food, which The Editor ended up paying for. I was irritated because I had planned on paying my part (as friends do).
He said, "You can get the next one."
Um, what?
Leaving the restaurant, The Editor offered a ride home, but I preferred to take the "L" and end the evening soon. We hugged and then I found myself on the unavoidable end of a kiss!
So there it was, Date #4 whether I wanted it or not.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* Business friends - - people with whom you have a temporary friendship because you work together. You probably wouldn't be friends without the work relationship.
Friday, May 26, 2006
Reaching out
Not sure why, but I responded to the email from The Editor and made plans to meet him at an outdoor watering hole tonight after work. He originally wanted to know if I had any plans to be in his neighborhood (since I haven't been in his neighborhood in at least 10 years, I'd say no!)
Anyhoo, The Editor and I worked together about 10 years ago in the sports department of a medium-sized newspaper in the south suburbs. It was a pretty small department, probably seven or eight of us and we often hung out together, despite the fact that I was the only woman on the staff. There is one other fellow sportswriter that I see probably every year or two, but that's it for "keeping in touch."
I've moved on from that life (pretty far removed, I think), so I'm pretty curious as to why he contacted me. Unless his life has dramatically changed, he still lives in the same house, is friends with the same people and works with many of the same individuals that he has for the past, oh, 20 years or so!
He's never been married, never had kids, never traveled outside the US and probably never eaten anything more exotic than tacos.
What does he want with me?
Anyhoo, The Editor and I worked together about 10 years ago in the sports department of a medium-sized newspaper in the south suburbs. It was a pretty small department, probably seven or eight of us and we often hung out together, despite the fact that I was the only woman on the staff. There is one other fellow sportswriter that I see probably every year or two, but that's it for "keeping in touch."
I've moved on from that life (pretty far removed, I think), so I'm pretty curious as to why he contacted me. Unless his life has dramatically changed, he still lives in the same house, is friends with the same people and works with many of the same individuals that he has for the past, oh, 20 years or so!
He's never been married, never had kids, never traveled outside the US and probably never eaten anything more exotic than tacos.
What does he want with me?
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Plan B
In an uncharacteristically disciplined move, I managed to plan and execute a three-day-a-week workout for a whole six months! The result?
Zilch! Absolutely no weight loss and no inches lost. I know they say "you're clothes will fit better." Bullshit! WTF?!?!
Those readers that actually know me in person know that I'm not fat. Far from it. I realize that, but I also know that in the last five years, I've gained a total of 15 pounds. I hadn't gained that much in the previous 15 years combined! When you're small, 15 pounds is like tying a pillow around your ass and trying to slip on a knit skirt over it.
Anyway, I've decided to go to Plan B.
Food is one of my favorite four-letter words, so Plan B might be tough to implement, but I'm going to give it a try...for two weeks. During this time, I will eat no white bread and no sugar. I didn't read this diet recipe in a book or hear about it on Oprah. It's just something I thought I'd try. To see if it makes a difference.
If, after two weeks, I see a difference, maybe I'll continue with it. We'll see.
We're talking no hot dogs, pizza or pretzels at Wrigley Field and no candy or ice cream after lunch at work. This is going to be hard work!
But here's the thing: It's "shorts" season and I'm getting tired of looking down and seeing jello!
Considering I have a bagel for breakfast almost every day and chocolate at least twice a week, you can see that I will have a problem with this. Do you realize how hard it is to avoid white bread when the lunch options in the city revolve around burgers, pizza and sandwiches??
So I am asking you, my lovely, no-doubt healthier-eating readers, to help me plan some meals. Please keep in mind that one cup of fruit in the morning will NOT keep me going until lunchtime!
My ass, abs and thighs thank you!
Zilch! Absolutely no weight loss and no inches lost. I know they say "you're clothes will fit better." Bullshit! WTF?!?!
Those readers that actually know me in person know that I'm not fat. Far from it. I realize that, but I also know that in the last five years, I've gained a total of 15 pounds. I hadn't gained that much in the previous 15 years combined! When you're small, 15 pounds is like tying a pillow around your ass and trying to slip on a knit skirt over it.
Anyway, I've decided to go to Plan B.
Food is one of my favorite four-letter words, so Plan B might be tough to implement, but I'm going to give it a try...for two weeks. During this time, I will eat no white bread and no sugar. I didn't read this diet recipe in a book or hear about it on Oprah. It's just something I thought I'd try. To see if it makes a difference.
If, after two weeks, I see a difference, maybe I'll continue with it. We'll see.
We're talking no hot dogs, pizza or pretzels at Wrigley Field and no candy or ice cream after lunch at work. This is going to be hard work!
But here's the thing: It's "shorts" season and I'm getting tired of looking down and seeing jello!
Considering I have a bagel for breakfast almost every day and chocolate at least twice a week, you can see that I will have a problem with this. Do you realize how hard it is to avoid white bread when the lunch options in the city revolve around burgers, pizza and sandwiches??
So I am asking you, my lovely, no-doubt healthier-eating readers, to help me plan some meals. Please keep in mind that one cup of fruit in the morning will NOT keep me going until lunchtime!
My ass, abs and thighs thank you!
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Dating 101
So there I am last night, watching my beloved Cubs get their asses kicked by the God-forsaken Florida Marlins when my cell phone rings.
It's the Dancing Lawyer.
Honestly! I think he must've read "See Dick Date" or maybe "Dating for Dummies" because he's been incredibly by-the-book this whole time. For example,
1) he called me mid-week to plan a weekend date,
2) he selected a good restaurant (not too cheap/pricey/far away/strange food),
3) he did not keep me out ridiculously late on our date, and
4) he called me on Monday to say "hello" and see if I enjoyed the rest of my weekend.
Geez!
In a weird twist of cell phone fate, DL called just as I was busy answering a text from Flight Attendant. He sent a txt telling me that he was attending the aforementioned Cubs game, where he was sitting and what he was wearing. (No, I didn't spot him on TV.)
Can I get a show of hands to see who thought I would hear from FA again after our Cubs-game-date debacle?
Curiously enough, I think FA might invite me to another Cubs game. As I was deleting old text messages from him, I found one from a few weeks ago where he lists the games he will see in Chicago - - including games this Saturday and Sunday. We'll see if I get an invitation with more than an hour or so to spare.
I mean, seriously, didn't he read the book?
It's the Dancing Lawyer.
Honestly! I think he must've read "See Dick Date" or maybe "Dating for Dummies" because he's been incredibly by-the-book this whole time. For example,
1) he called me mid-week to plan a weekend date,
2) he selected a good restaurant (not too cheap/pricey/far away/strange food),
3) he did not keep me out ridiculously late on our date, and
4) he called me on Monday to say "hello" and see if I enjoyed the rest of my weekend.
Geez!
In a weird twist of cell phone fate, DL called just as I was busy answering a text from Flight Attendant. He sent a txt telling me that he was attending the aforementioned Cubs game, where he was sitting and what he was wearing. (No, I didn't spot him on TV.)
Can I get a show of hands to see who thought I would hear from FA again after our Cubs-game-date debacle?
Curiously enough, I think FA might invite me to another Cubs game. As I was deleting old text messages from him, I found one from a few weeks ago where he lists the games he will see in Chicago - - including games this Saturday and Sunday. We'll see if I get an invitation with more than an hour or so to spare.
I mean, seriously, didn't he read the book?
Monday, May 22, 2006
Song of my life
I went on a dinner date with Dancing Lawyer on Saturday night. We dined at a cute little family-owned Italian restaurant, a safe choice for a first date.
I don't know why I bothered to convene the wardrobe congress to decide my attire when Dancing Lawyer arrived dressed as though he just crawled out of bed: jeans, an unironed and untucked white dress shirt with the cuffs rolled over and the neck unbuttoned to display a white undershirt.
On the evening that we met, DL's hair situation was a mystery since he wore a baseball cap (backwards) all evening. This night, however, the thin blond coif was gelled into a stunted rhino horn. Add to that the slight goatee and he seemed to be quite...pointed. If his hair had been dark, he would've made a great Satan.
In a surprisingly thoughtful move, DL remembered part of our initial conversation and asked me about a situation at my office. I jumped in with what I hoped was an interesting (and not too long) story of international business. He bounced back with his own company's travails and the evening's conversation volleyed back and forth at a good pace.
He spoke of planning a trip with his brother. I REALLY didn't want to hit the "how old are you?" button, so I sidestepped it with "just one brother? older or younger?"
His older brother is 30!
I forced a forkful of gnocchi in my mouth (since it was already hanging open) and tried to think of a new topic - quick!
By dinner's end, I had decided that my new social strategy will include dating in bulk: if I can't get quality, go for quantity.
Stopping in the ladies room while DL paid the bill, I froze in my tracks when a line from the recorded background music hit my ears.
"They're all either too young or too old."
I don't know why I bothered to convene the wardrobe congress to decide my attire when Dancing Lawyer arrived dressed as though he just crawled out of bed: jeans, an unironed and untucked white dress shirt with the cuffs rolled over and the neck unbuttoned to display a white undershirt.
On the evening that we met, DL's hair situation was a mystery since he wore a baseball cap (backwards) all evening. This night, however, the thin blond coif was gelled into a stunted rhino horn. Add to that the slight goatee and he seemed to be quite...pointed. If his hair had been dark, he would've made a great Satan.
In a surprisingly thoughtful move, DL remembered part of our initial conversation and asked me about a situation at my office. I jumped in with what I hoped was an interesting (and not too long) story of international business. He bounced back with his own company's travails and the evening's conversation volleyed back and forth at a good pace.
He spoke of planning a trip with his brother. I REALLY didn't want to hit the "how old are you?" button, so I sidestepped it with "just one brother? older or younger?"
His older brother is 30!
I forced a forkful of gnocchi in my mouth (since it was already hanging open) and tried to think of a new topic - quick!
By dinner's end, I had decided that my new social strategy will include dating in bulk: if I can't get quality, go for quantity.
Stopping in the ladies room while DL paid the bill, I froze in my tracks when a line from the recorded background music hit my ears.
"They're all either too young or too old."
Friday, May 19, 2006
Another station heard from
I get a lot of spam. Okay, everybody gets lots of spam. Usually, I just delete it without opening it, but today something seemed familair about one email although I didn't recognize the sender's name.
So I opened it.
"Hey Writer,
It was nice getting to catch up with you a little bit over the weekend. This week's a bit busy with volleyball and softball, but maybe we can get together next Friday. Let me know what works for you.
The Editor"
Okay, so it wasn't really signed "The Editor" but you know how things work on the Internet (protecting privacy and all that).
Trouble was, I sat there thinking, "Who is the Editor?" Did I meet somebody by that name while out with FC2? At a Cubs game maybe?
I racked my brain for an answer.
The Editor? The Editor? Who is this guy?
Well, let's see: there's FA, Lion King, Cub Fan, the Announcer, Dancing Lawyer...jeez! did somebody dip me in pheromones while I was sleeping or what??
So I opened it.
"Hey Writer,
It was nice getting to catch up with you a little bit over the weekend. This week's a bit busy with volleyball and softball, but maybe we can get together next Friday. Let me know what works for you.
The Editor"
Okay, so it wasn't really signed "The Editor" but you know how things work on the Internet (protecting privacy and all that).
Trouble was, I sat there thinking, "Who is the Editor?" Did I meet somebody by that name while out with FC2? At a Cubs game maybe?
I racked my brain for an answer.
The Editor? The Editor? Who is this guy?
Well, let's see: there's FA, Lion King, Cub Fan, the Announcer, Dancing Lawyer...jeez! did somebody dip me in pheromones while I was sleeping or what??
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Life, love and the infield fly rule
Luck. Chance. Fate. Or for the really melodramatic among us- destiny. Do we have any takers? Does anybody really believe in this stuff or are the chapters of our lives full of random occurrences?
I don't know, but today seemed to have the full rollercoaster of ups and downs, luck-wise.
As you probably remember, I was supposed to attend Wednesday night's Cubs game with FA, but he was a no-show...or so I thought when I accepted Announcer's offer of a free ticket and a few drinks after the game.
Gametime: 7:05. My cell phone rang Wednesday evening at 6 pm. It was a text message from FA. He had just landed in the crummy, rainy weather and would contact me when he got closer. I started to fume about his last-minute check-in, but then I realized that I already had fabulous plans for the evening. The "nice person" in me decided that if I contacted FA quickly, he could offer his other ticket to a coworker, so I texted back.
"No word from you, so I made other plans. Sorry."
His reply.
"I wasn't home all week. My fault."
Pretty lame excuse for someone that travels for a living and loves to communicate via text message!
Anyway, I went to the game and Announcer left a very good ticket for me. He called me from the booth just before the game started and we made plans to meet after the game (which the Cubs won!!)
Oh, and before the game started, I checked my phone and saw that I missed a call from the Dancing Lawyer. I met him last week when FC2 and I went out for a stroll down Clark Street. Nice guy, good conversation, but two problems: 1) too young, and, 2) not physically attractive to me. But I decided I could always go out with him at least once. You never know.
But I digress...
Dinner plans fell through when the game ran late, so Announcer and I grabbed a snack and some drinks nearby. I had almost forgotten that he's pretty well known in Chicago (even on the North Side), so I was almost surprised and a bit annoyed when a few other sports fan interrupted our conversation throughout the evening.
Announcer suggested I drive up to Milwaukee to see his team play in a few weeks, even offering me a team schedule, so I didn't forget. Oh, in case I haven't mentioned it before, nothing physical has happened...at least nothing more than a hug and a kiss on the cheek. And he took my arm when we left the ballpark. It's all very casual, which is good.
Today (Thursday) I took a "personal day" off from work. Okay, so I took a day off to see Kerry Wood in his first game since last year. I'm a big baseball fan, sue me!
I couldn't reach Announcer to tell him I would be there (although I'm pretty sure I mentioned it earlier). But after winning a replica 1955 Jackie Robinson Dodgers Jersey in a scratch-off drawing, I was excited to tell somebody, but I couldn't find anyone!!!
So I sent a text to FA.
He texted back to congratulate me and said he was in Aisle 34 (about six sections over from me). Did he ask where I was sitting?
No.
Did he suggest we meet up after the game?
No.
Did he tell me when he'll be in town next?
No.
Yep, NEXT!
I had left a message earlier for Announcer and, in my excitement from winning the jersey, tried to call him a second time. Oooh, cardinal sin! Two messages from one woman in less than two hours! How needy!
Needless to say, I wasn't going to call him.
Here's where fate/luck/destiny jumps in. I was leaving the ballpark pretty late (as usual) and I stopped in the ladies room near the bleachers. I had planned to take the Red Line home and that's the closest exit. Upon leaving the loo, who do I run into? Announcer!
He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek and said he was going to call me but he didn't have any signal. We chatted for about 15 minutes and he reminded me about the Milwaukee games. I showed him the jersey and he was very impressed. He said he'd call me before the Milwaukee series, gave me a hug and another kiss on the cheek and boarded the team bus for the airport.
So, friends and neighbors, here's the scorecard as it stands now:
FA - a goner unless some amazingly gutsy/thoughtful/romantic steps are taken on his part.
Announcer- still in friends stage, I think. Don't know if anything will ever develop. Not sure if I want it to considering the age difference and geography.
Dancing Lawyer - date planned for Saturday night. We'll see.
I don't know, but today seemed to have the full rollercoaster of ups and downs, luck-wise.
As you probably remember, I was supposed to attend Wednesday night's Cubs game with FA, but he was a no-show...or so I thought when I accepted Announcer's offer of a free ticket and a few drinks after the game.
Gametime: 7:05. My cell phone rang Wednesday evening at 6 pm. It was a text message from FA. He had just landed in the crummy, rainy weather and would contact me when he got closer. I started to fume about his last-minute check-in, but then I realized that I already had fabulous plans for the evening. The "nice person" in me decided that if I contacted FA quickly, he could offer his other ticket to a coworker, so I texted back.
"No word from you, so I made other plans. Sorry."
His reply.
"I wasn't home all week. My fault."
Pretty lame excuse for someone that travels for a living and loves to communicate via text message!
Anyway, I went to the game and Announcer left a very good ticket for me. He called me from the booth just before the game started and we made plans to meet after the game (which the Cubs won!!)
Oh, and before the game started, I checked my phone and saw that I missed a call from the Dancing Lawyer. I met him last week when FC2 and I went out for a stroll down Clark Street. Nice guy, good conversation, but two problems: 1) too young, and, 2) not physically attractive to me. But I decided I could always go out with him at least once. You never know.
But I digress...
Dinner plans fell through when the game ran late, so Announcer and I grabbed a snack and some drinks nearby. I had almost forgotten that he's pretty well known in Chicago (even on the North Side), so I was almost surprised and a bit annoyed when a few other sports fan interrupted our conversation throughout the evening.
Announcer suggested I drive up to Milwaukee to see his team play in a few weeks, even offering me a team schedule, so I didn't forget. Oh, in case I haven't mentioned it before, nothing physical has happened...at least nothing more than a hug and a kiss on the cheek. And he took my arm when we left the ballpark. It's all very casual, which is good.
Today (Thursday) I took a "personal day" off from work. Okay, so I took a day off to see Kerry Wood in his first game since last year. I'm a big baseball fan, sue me!
I couldn't reach Announcer to tell him I would be there (although I'm pretty sure I mentioned it earlier). But after winning a replica 1955 Jackie Robinson Dodgers Jersey in a scratch-off drawing, I was excited to tell somebody, but I couldn't find anyone!!!
So I sent a text to FA.
He texted back to congratulate me and said he was in Aisle 34 (about six sections over from me). Did he ask where I was sitting?
No.
Did he suggest we meet up after the game?
No.
Did he tell me when he'll be in town next?
No.
Yep, NEXT!
I had left a message earlier for Announcer and, in my excitement from winning the jersey, tried to call him a second time. Oooh, cardinal sin! Two messages from one woman in less than two hours! How needy!
Needless to say, I wasn't going to call him.
Here's where fate/luck/destiny jumps in. I was leaving the ballpark pretty late (as usual) and I stopped in the ladies room near the bleachers. I had planned to take the Red Line home and that's the closest exit. Upon leaving the loo, who do I run into? Announcer!
He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek and said he was going to call me but he didn't have any signal. We chatted for about 15 minutes and he reminded me about the Milwaukee games. I showed him the jersey and he was very impressed. He said he'd call me before the Milwaukee series, gave me a hug and another kiss on the cheek and boarded the team bus for the airport.
So, friends and neighbors, here's the scorecard as it stands now:
FA - a goner unless some amazingly gutsy/thoughtful/romantic steps are taken on his part.
Announcer- still in friends stage, I think. Don't know if anything will ever develop. Not sure if I want it to considering the age difference and geography.
Dancing Lawyer - date planned for Saturday night. We'll see.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Pinch-hitter
The Cubs game starts in 6 hours and I have heard NOTHING from FA regarding our plan to attend the game together. Am I upset?
Actually, no. For two reasons:
1) since FA lives in Florida, had a number of little-boy-in-grown-man's-body issues, and wasn't all that cute anyway, the boyfriend possibility was minimal, and
2) not one, but TWO guys offered to leave me a free ticket if I want to come to tonight's game!
Okay, don't get too excited about #2 because one of them is a Cubs security guy (married) and the other one is an announcer for the Washington Nationals (not sure on the married thing, but he's considerably older than me).
A little background...Firecracker, FC2, Golden Girl and I attended last night's game and had a little early celebration for FC2's birthday. After the Cubs won (yay!! it's about time!!), all of us except Firecracker went over to one of the local watering holes.
When we arrived, I ran into a sportswriter friend of mine that covers the Cubs. We chatted for a bit and then he disappeared into the crowd. About 20 minutes later, I got the feeling that I should go and find him again. When I did, he was talking to the Announcer and was kind enough to introduce me.
Announcer offered to leave me a ticket for tonight's game and in doing so, gave me his cell phone number and told me where he's staying and his room number. Oh, did I mention that he used to be a professional baseball player?
Yep, it was an interesting evening. Wonder what tonight will bring?
Actually, no. For two reasons:
1) since FA lives in Florida, had a number of little-boy-in-grown-man's-body issues, and wasn't all that cute anyway, the boyfriend possibility was minimal, and
2) not one, but TWO guys offered to leave me a free ticket if I want to come to tonight's game!
Okay, don't get too excited about #2 because one of them is a Cubs security guy (married) and the other one is an announcer for the Washington Nationals (not sure on the married thing, but he's considerably older than me).
A little background...Firecracker, FC2, Golden Girl and I attended last night's game and had a little early celebration for FC2's birthday. After the Cubs won (yay!! it's about time!!), all of us except Firecracker went over to one of the local watering holes.
When we arrived, I ran into a sportswriter friend of mine that covers the Cubs. We chatted for a bit and then he disappeared into the crowd. About 20 minutes later, I got the feeling that I should go and find him again. When I did, he was talking to the Announcer and was kind enough to introduce me.
Announcer offered to leave me a ticket for tonight's game and in doing so, gave me his cell phone number and told me where he's staying and his room number. Oh, did I mention that he used to be a professional baseball player?
Yep, it was an interesting evening. Wonder what tonight will bring?
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Keeping the door open
A few years back, I dated a guy who got angry when he discovered that I was still listed on the online dating service Match.com while we were dating. He was really mad, or maybe he was hurt, I don't know, but he wanted me to de-activate my profile. Whatever.
I never expected to find "my soulmate" on Match, so it didn't really matter to me that my profile was still active. Before you start to wonder, no! I'm not active on Match.com anymore.
Anyway, I was really bored at home the other night, so I thought I'd see if the Match.com talent pool was as shallow now as it was then. Surprisingly enough, my specifc search turned up quite a few attractive men. And then I came across one that I recognized. It took a few minutes, but I realized that the guy lives down the hall from me...with his girlfriend and her daughter!
Wonder if she'd be as angry as my boyfriend was?
I never expected to find "my soulmate" on Match, so it didn't really matter to me that my profile was still active. Before you start to wonder, no! I'm not active on Match.com anymore.
Anyway, I was really bored at home the other night, so I thought I'd see if the Match.com talent pool was as shallow now as it was then. Surprisingly enough, my specifc search turned up quite a few attractive men. And then I came across one that I recognized. It took a few minutes, but I realized that the guy lives down the hall from me...with his girlfriend and her daughter!
Wonder if she'd be as angry as my boyfriend was?
Monday, May 15, 2006
To date or not to date?
Well, it's been two weeks since I last heard from FA and we're supposed to go to the Cubs game this Wednesday evening.
Let's take a poll: who thinks I'll have a date for the game Wednesday?
Let's take a poll: who thinks I'll have a date for the game Wednesday?
Goodbye Auntie Mame
I've often felt that I was born at the wrong time. I can (and usually do) sing along to the music of Frank Sinatra and Glenn Miller, but couldn't even name one song by Brittney Spears or Jennifer Lopez.
I was born too late to know Rosemary in her heyday. I'm at the tail end of a large family with several generations mixed in, so we tend to confuse the specifics of who's related and who's not. I think Rosemary was my father's cousin (or maybe her husband Chuck was, I don't know).
My extended family holds two reunions per year- - one in the summer and one just after Thanksgiving. They've done this for years and we have the black-and-white home movies to prove it. Rosemary and Chuck used to entertain at the winter reunion. No, they weren't professionals, but they were good. He played a grand piano and she, a statuesque blond, sang showtunes from atop the piano.
She was the only woman I've ever known who smoked a cigarette at the end of a long holder and she did it with style. Okay, she did everything with style, but maybe that was just my view as an impressionable grade schooler.
I used to imagine the wonderfully exotic life they lived. Traveling all over the world, dining at amazing restaurants, meeting important people from all walks of life. Actually, I don't know if any of this ever happened because I was too young to know anything about them except that they were family.
Rosemary loved sports. Actually, she had asked her kids to tell her what channel the game was on just the night before the heart attack hit. She was putting on her makeup, blotting her lipstick the way classy women of a certain ago do.
And then she was gone.
It's such a small part of my childhood from so many years ago, but for some reason, I know I'll miss her.
I was born too late to know Rosemary in her heyday. I'm at the tail end of a large family with several generations mixed in, so we tend to confuse the specifics of who's related and who's not. I think Rosemary was my father's cousin (or maybe her husband Chuck was, I don't know).
My extended family holds two reunions per year- - one in the summer and one just after Thanksgiving. They've done this for years and we have the black-and-white home movies to prove it. Rosemary and Chuck used to entertain at the winter reunion. No, they weren't professionals, but they were good. He played a grand piano and she, a statuesque blond, sang showtunes from atop the piano.
She was the only woman I've ever known who smoked a cigarette at the end of a long holder and she did it with style. Okay, she did everything with style, but maybe that was just my view as an impressionable grade schooler.
I used to imagine the wonderfully exotic life they lived. Traveling all over the world, dining at amazing restaurants, meeting important people from all walks of life. Actually, I don't know if any of this ever happened because I was too young to know anything about them except that they were family.
Rosemary loved sports. Actually, she had asked her kids to tell her what channel the game was on just the night before the heart attack hit. She was putting on her makeup, blotting her lipstick the way classy women of a certain ago do.
And then she was gone.
It's such a small part of my childhood from so many years ago, but for some reason, I know I'll miss her.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Head explodes from pressure release: film at 11
To say I've been a wee bit tense about my job situation would be an understatement. Actually, I've been pretty much one big clenched butt muscle for about a year now.
Until today.
Our new CEO is a tough, but fair man who formerly held the position of board member for this same company until about five years ago. When I heard he was coming back, I resisted the urge to do a little happy dance.
You see, he's always been appreciative of my work and pretty good to work with. I won't say he's a pushover because he's definitely NOT (Hell, he's German!), but he says what he means (a pretty unique talent around here lately).
Currently, our office is in a state of upheaval with part of the company being sold off (or killed off, depending who you ask) and only about a dozen people being kept on staff. Trouble is, for a variety of reasons, I haven't had much support in my role here.
Until today.
The CEO arrived and I met him in the hallway and couldn't resist giving him a hug. He had a big smile when he saw me and hugged me back with a very-European two-cheek kiss. He told me I haven't changed a bit! (he looks exactly the same, too!) It was more like a meeting of old friends, rather than one of boss and totem-pole bottom dweller.
He mentioned that he and his wife will attend my former co-worker's wedding in Barcelona, Spain and asked if I was going, too.
"I'd like to, but I have to see if I have a job here first," I said quietly.
"Don't worry. You have my 100% support. I'm glad you're still here."
I coulda kissed him.
Until today.
Our new CEO is a tough, but fair man who formerly held the position of board member for this same company until about five years ago. When I heard he was coming back, I resisted the urge to do a little happy dance.
You see, he's always been appreciative of my work and pretty good to work with. I won't say he's a pushover because he's definitely NOT (Hell, he's German!), but he says what he means (a pretty unique talent around here lately).
Currently, our office is in a state of upheaval with part of the company being sold off (or killed off, depending who you ask) and only about a dozen people being kept on staff. Trouble is, for a variety of reasons, I haven't had much support in my role here.
Until today.
The CEO arrived and I met him in the hallway and couldn't resist giving him a hug. He had a big smile when he saw me and hugged me back with a very-European two-cheek kiss. He told me I haven't changed a bit! (he looks exactly the same, too!) It was more like a meeting of old friends, rather than one of boss and totem-pole bottom dweller.
He mentioned that he and his wife will attend my former co-worker's wedding in Barcelona, Spain and asked if I was going, too.
"I'd like to, but I have to see if I have a job here first," I said quietly.
"Don't worry. You have my 100% support. I'm glad you're still here."
I coulda kissed him.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Sex, drugs and Iowa farmboys
You know it's going to be an interesting evening when a total stranger compares you to heroin.
Or maybe he was offering some...
I don't know.
Anyway, Firecracker, FC2 and I headed out for dinner and some fun on Saturday. As we finished our dinners, an older businessman passed by our table and said something about heroin as he pointed at me, mentioned marijuana and pointed at FC2 and said "neither" when he motioned to Firecracker.
We all sat there in stunned confusion.
"Huh?"
Without any explanation, the stranger walked away and out of the restaurant. Is it a full moon or what?
Strolling over to one of the city's biggest Irish bars, the three of us made our way up to the top floor where a live band was belting out Irish songs of all kinds, including U2. At one point, a cute blond guy approached me and asked if I'd do him a favor.
"Um, maaayybeee."
It seems we had stumbled upon a bachelor party featuring a groom from Sioux City, Iowa and a gang of fellas who hauled ass into Chicago in an RV.
No shit.
Groom was marrying cute blond guy's sister and cute blond guy was married to groom's sister. I know what you're thinking...are you sure they're from Iowa and not Alabama??
The favor was pretty tame by Saturday-night-in-Chicago standards: deposit a big I Love Lucy-style lipstick smooch on his cheek.
Sure! Why not? After planting one on Groom, he asked if he could "dip" me and pretend to kiss me. (Great! I only get the pretend kiss! Life is sooo not fair!)
Little did our group know, but that was only the beginning.
The Iowa boys seem to be making up Groom's "to do" list as they went along and I'm thinking they saw some of this stuff in movies. Pretty soon FC2 and Groom were chatting, only to disappear into the crowd moments later.
Firecracker and I looked at each other and shrugged.
Groom emerged from the crowd two minutes later WEARING FC2's PANTIES ON HIS HEAD!!!
She gave us a big smile and flashed the finder's fee she received. (Was this in Sixteen Candles?)
Okay, now she was on a roll and the farmers seemed to agree.
Next up? A body shot!
Before we knew it, FC2 was laid out on the table amidst the Iowa contingent with her shirt rolled partially up. Why roll the shirt up? To make space for the salt, of course!
A shot glass of tequila was placed just under her boobs and a lime slice between her lips. As Firecracker and I watched, Groom licked the salt off FC2's belly, drank the shot and kissed the lime from her mouth.
Yee-hah!!
I think the farmers were pretty floored by our Chicago hospitality. I also think they were all out of ideas by now (and probably out of money, too, as they bought Buttery Nipples for Firecracker and FC2 and a Jagermeister for me.)
It was put-up or shut-up time and the Iowa boys were all about shutting up, especially since almost all of them were married. It was just as well, as it was closing time and my tired ass was ready to go home.
Never did figure out the whole heroin, marijuana or neither thing...
Or maybe he was offering some...
I don't know.
Anyway, Firecracker, FC2 and I headed out for dinner and some fun on Saturday. As we finished our dinners, an older businessman passed by our table and said something about heroin as he pointed at me, mentioned marijuana and pointed at FC2 and said "neither" when he motioned to Firecracker.
We all sat there in stunned confusion.
"Huh?"
Without any explanation, the stranger walked away and out of the restaurant. Is it a full moon or what?
Strolling over to one of the city's biggest Irish bars, the three of us made our way up to the top floor where a live band was belting out Irish songs of all kinds, including U2. At one point, a cute blond guy approached me and asked if I'd do him a favor.
"Um, maaayybeee."
It seems we had stumbled upon a bachelor party featuring a groom from Sioux City, Iowa and a gang of fellas who hauled ass into Chicago in an RV.
No shit.
Groom was marrying cute blond guy's sister and cute blond guy was married to groom's sister. I know what you're thinking...are you sure they're from Iowa and not Alabama??
The favor was pretty tame by Saturday-night-in-Chicago standards: deposit a big I Love Lucy-style lipstick smooch on his cheek.
Sure! Why not? After planting one on Groom, he asked if he could "dip" me and pretend to kiss me. (Great! I only get the pretend kiss! Life is sooo not fair!)
Little did our group know, but that was only the beginning.
The Iowa boys seem to be making up Groom's "to do" list as they went along and I'm thinking they saw some of this stuff in movies. Pretty soon FC2 and Groom were chatting, only to disappear into the crowd moments later.
Firecracker and I looked at each other and shrugged.
Groom emerged from the crowd two minutes later WEARING FC2's PANTIES ON HIS HEAD!!!
She gave us a big smile and flashed the finder's fee she received. (Was this in Sixteen Candles?)
Okay, now she was on a roll and the farmers seemed to agree.
Next up? A body shot!
Before we knew it, FC2 was laid out on the table amidst the Iowa contingent with her shirt rolled partially up. Why roll the shirt up? To make space for the salt, of course!
A shot glass of tequila was placed just under her boobs and a lime slice between her lips. As Firecracker and I watched, Groom licked the salt off FC2's belly, drank the shot and kissed the lime from her mouth.
Yee-hah!!
I think the farmers were pretty floored by our Chicago hospitality. I also think they were all out of ideas by now (and probably out of money, too, as they bought Buttery Nipples for Firecracker and FC2 and a Jagermeister for me.)
It was put-up or shut-up time and the Iowa boys were all about shutting up, especially since almost all of them were married. It was just as well, as it was closing time and my tired ass was ready to go home.
Never did figure out the whole heroin, marijuana or neither thing...
Monday, May 01, 2006
One down, five to go
In my effort to have six dates in 2006, I've finally managed ONE! Yep, FA contacted me last night when he landed from yet another flight from London. I was walking back from a crappy, rainy Cubs loss (that he already knew about) when I received the text message.
The hassle of U.S. Customs and highway traffic delayed our meeting till after 8, but we finally managed to sit down to a casual dinner and a few cocktails.
We had a really great conversation about one of our common loves - - travel. Of course, since he works for an airline, he has been to many more places but I didn't find myself envious...except when he mentioned that he'll be spending a week or so on his friend's boat off the coast of Malta!
He mentioned that he'll be turning 40 in about a month and he'll have a party at his home in Ft. Lauderdale. He invited me to come down for it, but it was a very casual invitation, so I'll wait to see if he mentions it again before I consider it.
Still on the travel theme, I talked about my plans to go to Croatia with my mother and he said he remembered me telling him about that when we met. Then he berated himself for forgetting the 4-page spread on Croatia that he read in the London Daily Herald. He wanted to bring it for me and he forgot.
He paid for dinner and let me leave a tip (when I offered). We moved into the bar area and tried to squeeze up to the bar. He slipped through the crowd and reached back for my hand to pull me toward him. We found seats at the bar and ordered a round.
We chatted a bit and people-watched as a horrendous band fumbled through a bizarre musical set that had us wincing in pain at their "singing." Too funny! FA mentioned that he should go back to London and apologize to the karoake bar that he made fun of a few nights ago.
It might have been near midnight (I never checked the time) when I decided that I'd better get home so I wouldn't miss work. FA walked me back to my car and went around to the driver's side TO OPEN MY DOOR (do guys still do that??). Oh, did I mention that during dinner, FA asked if I wanted some water from the pitcher on our table, poured my water and refilled my glass later.
A gentleman? Geez, I forgot what they looked like!
I drove him back to his hotel and during a rare lull in our conversation, I mentally reveiwed the evening: good conversation, a few laughs and a nice, casual dinner. In a previous text message, he had invited me to join him for a Cubs game in a few weeks. I wondered if I should confirm the invitation. (Let's have a show of hands to see who thought at least ONE of my dates in 2006 would include a baseball game??)
Reading my thoughts, he asked if I am still available for the game in a few weeks.
I smiled, "Sure."
After a nice kiss goodnight, I let him out of the car and he said he'll text me tomorrow before he leaves. I pulled into my garage and my cell phone vibrated.
The hassle of U.S. Customs and highway traffic delayed our meeting till after 8, but we finally managed to sit down to a casual dinner and a few cocktails.
We had a really great conversation about one of our common loves - - travel. Of course, since he works for an airline, he has been to many more places but I didn't find myself envious...except when he mentioned that he'll be spending a week or so on his friend's boat off the coast of Malta!
He mentioned that he'll be turning 40 in about a month and he'll have a party at his home in Ft. Lauderdale. He invited me to come down for it, but it was a very casual invitation, so I'll wait to see if he mentions it again before I consider it.
Still on the travel theme, I talked about my plans to go to Croatia with my mother and he said he remembered me telling him about that when we met. Then he berated himself for forgetting the 4-page spread on Croatia that he read in the London Daily Herald. He wanted to bring it for me and he forgot.
He paid for dinner and let me leave a tip (when I offered). We moved into the bar area and tried to squeeze up to the bar. He slipped through the crowd and reached back for my hand to pull me toward him. We found seats at the bar and ordered a round.
We chatted a bit and people-watched as a horrendous band fumbled through a bizarre musical set that had us wincing in pain at their "singing." Too funny! FA mentioned that he should go back to London and apologize to the karoake bar that he made fun of a few nights ago.
It might have been near midnight (I never checked the time) when I decided that I'd better get home so I wouldn't miss work. FA walked me back to my car and went around to the driver's side TO OPEN MY DOOR (do guys still do that??). Oh, did I mention that during dinner, FA asked if I wanted some water from the pitcher on our table, poured my water and refilled my glass later.
A gentleman? Geez, I forgot what they looked like!
I drove him back to his hotel and during a rare lull in our conversation, I mentally reveiwed the evening: good conversation, a few laughs and a nice, casual dinner. In a previous text message, he had invited me to join him for a Cubs game in a few weeks. I wondered if I should confirm the invitation. (Let's have a show of hands to see who thought at least ONE of my dates in 2006 would include a baseball game??)
Reading my thoughts, he asked if I am still available for the game in a few weeks.
I smiled, "Sure."
After a nice kiss goodnight, I let him out of the car and he said he'll text me tomorrow before he leaves. I pulled into my garage and my cell phone vibrated.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
The case of the missing artwork
I have a theory (okay, several, but only one I'll write about here). Feel free to borrow it.
When faced with a dilemma and no ideas present themselves, I often find it helpful to share the situation with a few people who are outside the immediate scope of the problem. I find that the answers sometimes hide behind unlikely doors.
The new CEO of our European-based company is a man who held a similar position for our company eight years ago when I first came on board. He left several years ago but was brought back earlier this month.
When the Chicago office first opened, the CEO purchased a piece of artwork and hung it in our lobby. Now he wanted to know if it's still here. In the time that I've been with this company, we have moved not once, but twice! If you've ever moved, you know how often things get lost, damaged or just left behind. This can't have happened to this picture!
I had a very good reputation with this man years ago and it was critical that I continue to shine in his eyes.
Although I had no idea if this picture survived our moves, something told me that it had...and that it was in our current office SOMEWHERE. And no, it wasn't hanging up in someone's office. That would be too easy.
After checking every nook and cranny, every storage room, every closet, I came across another veteran of our company, a man who worked in the original office. He works for a different division of our company, so our paths don't cross very often.
Of course he has it! As a gag (since it's actually pretty ugly), he grabbed it when we moved out and kept it in his office. It's leaning against the wall next to his desk and sure! I can have it.
Whew!
When faced with a dilemma and no ideas present themselves, I often find it helpful to share the situation with a few people who are outside the immediate scope of the problem. I find that the answers sometimes hide behind unlikely doors.
The new CEO of our European-based company is a man who held a similar position for our company eight years ago when I first came on board. He left several years ago but was brought back earlier this month.
When the Chicago office first opened, the CEO purchased a piece of artwork and hung it in our lobby. Now he wanted to know if it's still here. In the time that I've been with this company, we have moved not once, but twice! If you've ever moved, you know how often things get lost, damaged or just left behind. This can't have happened to this picture!
I had a very good reputation with this man years ago and it was critical that I continue to shine in his eyes.
Although I had no idea if this picture survived our moves, something told me that it had...and that it was in our current office SOMEWHERE. And no, it wasn't hanging up in someone's office. That would be too easy.
After checking every nook and cranny, every storage room, every closet, I came across another veteran of our company, a man who worked in the original office. He works for a different division of our company, so our paths don't cross very often.
Of course he has it! As a gag (since it's actually pretty ugly), he grabbed it when we moved out and kept it in his office. It's leaning against the wall next to his desk and sure! I can have it.
Whew!
An American bride...and a Spanish groom
In the course of our many years on this planet, we have the potential to meet thousands of people. How do we decide which ones to keep in our lives and which do we allow to simply pass through?
Of course, it isn't always our choice.
As many of my readers already know, I recently received an invitation to a bridal shower for a woman with whom I'd lost touch several years ago. A few days ago, I received the actual wedding invitation, addressed to "The Writer and Guest." Oh yay! Another opportunity to flaunt my single-ness in a room full of couples.
I've already written off the shower, but I haven't decided about the wedding. It's in Chicago, so travel isn't the issue. The person I know the most at the wedding is the person I'll be able to talk to the least (the bride).
This morning, I received another wedding invitation. This one is from a former colleague who left the Chicago office at least three years ago. Our contact since then has been limited to an email or two per year. We also got a chance to catch up at one of the European weddings I attended last year.
And now it's his turn.
Oh, did I mention he's Spanish and the wedding is in a small village north of Barcelona?? And he's inviting several of the same former colleagues that I partied with in Germany last summer and North Carolina earlier this month.
Hmmmnn... Which wedding to go to?
Of course, it isn't always our choice.
As many of my readers already know, I recently received an invitation to a bridal shower for a woman with whom I'd lost touch several years ago. A few days ago, I received the actual wedding invitation, addressed to "The Writer and Guest." Oh yay! Another opportunity to flaunt my single-ness in a room full of couples.
I've already written off the shower, but I haven't decided about the wedding. It's in Chicago, so travel isn't the issue. The person I know the most at the wedding is the person I'll be able to talk to the least (the bride).
This morning, I received another wedding invitation. This one is from a former colleague who left the Chicago office at least three years ago. Our contact since then has been limited to an email or two per year. We also got a chance to catch up at one of the European weddings I attended last year.
And now it's his turn.
Oh, did I mention he's Spanish and the wedding is in a small village north of Barcelona?? And he's inviting several of the same former colleagues that I partied with in Germany last summer and North Carolina earlier this month.
Hmmmnn... Which wedding to go to?
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Another update on FA
He's on a plane!!! Unfortunately, it's going to Mexico City, not Chicago. He said he's going to be in Chicago on Sunday afternoon. Well, fat lotta good that does me now, sitting here with TWO TICKETS behind the Cubs dugout!
I know, I know, I shouldn't have bought the tickets without getting info from him, especially since it's only about 40 degrees outside!. Oh well! This uncertainty goes a long way toward explaining why FA is still single.
After contacting Firecracker and FC2 (neither can go), I called a client/friend of mine (no go) and even Cub Fan (doesn't want to freeze again and still mourning the missed cruise). Firecracker has a colleague that's a baseball fan despite his upbringing in California, so that's a possibility.
FA also txt that he'll be in Chicago on Sunday (or did he mean that he'll be home on Sunday??). As you can tell, this is a situation where it'll be better for me to keep my expectations at a minimum.
Go Cubs! BRRRR!!!
I know, I know, I shouldn't have bought the tickets without getting info from him, especially since it's only about 40 degrees outside!. Oh well! This uncertainty goes a long way toward explaining why FA is still single.
After contacting Firecracker and FC2 (neither can go), I called a client/friend of mine (no go) and even Cub Fan (doesn't want to freeze again and still mourning the missed cruise). Firecracker has a colleague that's a baseball fan despite his upbringing in California, so that's a possibility.
FA also txt that he'll be in Chicago on Sunday (or did he mean that he'll be home on Sunday??). As you can tell, this is a situation where it'll be better for me to keep my expectations at a minimum.
Go Cubs! BRRRR!!!
Update on folks I know...
specifically, guys I know.
Lion King - - had dinner with me on Friday. I had hoped it would be a laughter-filled evening of good food and great conversation. Unfortunately, it felt much more like a session with a shrink. Lion King has a way of asking very probing questions and eliciting much more information that I think should be shared with someone who is JUST A FRIEND.
Cub Fan - - brought the final three cubes of my storage unit and installed the entire thing on Sunday afternoon. We worked together to get all the pieces together in the proper order with the brushed nickel pulls installed. When a screw was loose on one of the nightstand drawers, Cub Fan put the drawer on my bed and pulled out a cordless drill. Finally! There's some screwing going on in here! (No, I didn't say it out loud, I only thought it..and not about him.)
Cub Fan booked his first-ever cruise to celebrate finally getting a job and was planning to leave Monday morning, so when I received an email from him Tuesday morning, I was concerned. The bad weather on the East Coast delayed his stopover, so he missed the connection and therefore, the cruise! Worse yet, he won't get the pre-payment back because the delay was weather-related! I offered to try to help him find a last-minute cheap trip to a beach somewhere, but his travel budget was already shot. I feel terrible for him.
But kinda good for me because I got a txt msg from FA last night...several, in fact.
FA - - Might be on his way to Chicago right now. We txt during the Cubs' comeback win last night (Go Cubs!!!!) and he invited me to join him at the Cubs game in mid-May and said that he's trying to get a flight to Chicago to go to the game tonight. I was already planning to go anyway, but in my excitement, I ordered two tickets online. They're behind the Cubs dugout!!!
Okay, so it's supposed to be ridiculously cold tonight. I'll bring a blanket and MIGHT have someone to keep me warm!!
Lion King - - had dinner with me on Friday. I had hoped it would be a laughter-filled evening of good food and great conversation. Unfortunately, it felt much more like a session with a shrink. Lion King has a way of asking very probing questions and eliciting much more information that I think should be shared with someone who is JUST A FRIEND.
Cub Fan - - brought the final three cubes of my storage unit and installed the entire thing on Sunday afternoon. We worked together to get all the pieces together in the proper order with the brushed nickel pulls installed. When a screw was loose on one of the nightstand drawers, Cub Fan put the drawer on my bed and pulled out a cordless drill. Finally! There's some screwing going on in here! (No, I didn't say it out loud, I only thought it..and not about him.)
Cub Fan booked his first-ever cruise to celebrate finally getting a job and was planning to leave Monday morning, so when I received an email from him Tuesday morning, I was concerned. The bad weather on the East Coast delayed his stopover, so he missed the connection and therefore, the cruise! Worse yet, he won't get the pre-payment back because the delay was weather-related! I offered to try to help him find a last-minute cheap trip to a beach somewhere, but his travel budget was already shot. I feel terrible for him.
But kinda good for me because I got a txt msg from FA last night...several, in fact.
FA - - Might be on his way to Chicago right now. We txt during the Cubs' comeback win last night (Go Cubs!!!!) and he invited me to join him at the Cubs game in mid-May and said that he's trying to get a flight to Chicago to go to the game tonight. I was already planning to go anyway, but in my excitement, I ordered two tickets online. They're behind the Cubs dugout!!!
Okay, so it's supposed to be ridiculously cold tonight. I'll bring a blanket and MIGHT have someone to keep me warm!!
Sunday, April 23, 2006
The room is finally finished!!!!!!!!!!
Ha! Ha! Fooled you! This is actually the BEFORE pictures, because, after all, what would a good before-and-after story be without the terrible "before" pictures.
But prior to the room unveiling, I have to share with you some of the fun activities that helped me to keep my sanity (insert joke here) during this very trying time...
It should come as no surprise that they are Cubs-related, specifically, the bleacher recontruction project, Cubs Spring Training and also the highlight of every spring...Opening Day. For the record, if you check the spring training game lineup on the day shown, it includes Marquis Grissom. Just so you know, he retired before the season started...and before my room was finished (nothing implied here, I'm just saying.)
Without further delay, my new master bedroom!!
Friday, April 21, 2006
Chicago, the way it should be...and the way it is
The day before Easter, I was breezing through my not-so-local Dominick's grocery store (my local one burned down, no kidding!). As is custom at my family's house, I had been asked to make "the cheese ball" (recipe to follow) and I was scrounging up the few ingredients.
Two bricks of cream cheese? Check.
One bunch of scallions? Check.
Small package of thin sliced corned beef? Um, well, no.
There's a particular brand of corned beef that I've always used and Dominick's was out of it. Strangely enough, they were out of the house brand, too, and any other brand. They had ham, turkey and beef, but no corned beef. It was like everyone on the North Side of Chicago was making the same cheese ball.
Off I went to the deli to see if they had any more in the back. On the way, I ran into the manager and explained my situation. He strolled into the deli and spoke to an older man in a long white butcher's apron.
The butcher came out, walked past me without a word and went directly to the refrigerator that was missing the corned beef. He grabbed a huge, one-pound package of said corned beef and asked me, "How much do you need?"
"About two-and-one-half ounces, please," I answered as he passed me and disappeared behind the counter.
A minute later, he handed me a small, shrink-wrapped styrofoam plate containing about eight slices of corned beef. On the wrapper, he wrote, "N.C. Todd."
No charge!
Last night, Cub Man delivered most of the pieces to the modular storage unit that he built for my new master bedroom. The scheduling of the delivery was somewhat problematic because my Gestapo-ruled condo association does not allow for evening deliveries. So I did what I usually do when rules get in my way.
I ignore them.
Cub Man, his friend, me, Firecracker and FC2 all loaded the pieces from two cars into the back door lobby of my building and then into the elevator. We were about half done when a security guard appeared in the doorway, shaking his head.
"He saw you," said the guard, one of several security people with whom I have a good relationship. I looked up and noticed the camera hanging from the ceiling facing the back door.
Busted.
The security manager at the front desk was new, someone I had yet to charm into looking the other way. If he wrote me up, I'd be fined by the condo association board. Minimum $50, I think.
Cub Man and his friend moved their cars around to the front entrance (to avoid being towed). I had to go the front desk to let them in and face the security manager. He read me the riot act (nicely, though) about moving furniture after hours and wasn't too pleased when Cub Man's friend asked if we could borrow the luggage cart by the door.
"Yeah, okay," he said somewhat hesitantly. "So far, I haven't seen anything."
I smiled.
We finished unloading the unit and when we returned the luggage cart, I brought along some Easter candies and a can of soda...with a$20 bill wrapped around it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Oops, almost forgot.
The famous Cheese Ball
2 bricks cream cheese (left out to soften)
1 medium-sized bunch of scallions (chopped with a bit of green, too)
2.5 ounces thin-sliced corned beef (chopped)
1 tspn. garlic salt (more or less to taste)
Mix all in large bowl and shape into ball (use a fork or spoon, for God's sake!) Refrigerate for a few hours. Serve with crackers or toasted bread pieces.
Two bricks of cream cheese? Check.
One bunch of scallions? Check.
Small package of thin sliced corned beef? Um, well, no.
There's a particular brand of corned beef that I've always used and Dominick's was out of it. Strangely enough, they were out of the house brand, too, and any other brand. They had ham, turkey and beef, but no corned beef. It was like everyone on the North Side of Chicago was making the same cheese ball.
Off I went to the deli to see if they had any more in the back. On the way, I ran into the manager and explained my situation. He strolled into the deli and spoke to an older man in a long white butcher's apron.
The butcher came out, walked past me without a word and went directly to the refrigerator that was missing the corned beef. He grabbed a huge, one-pound package of said corned beef and asked me, "How much do you need?"
"About two-and-one-half ounces, please," I answered as he passed me and disappeared behind the counter.
A minute later, he handed me a small, shrink-wrapped styrofoam plate containing about eight slices of corned beef. On the wrapper, he wrote, "N.C. Todd."
No charge!
Last night, Cub Man delivered most of the pieces to the modular storage unit that he built for my new master bedroom. The scheduling of the delivery was somewhat problematic because my Gestapo-ruled condo association does not allow for evening deliveries. So I did what I usually do when rules get in my way.
I ignore them.
Cub Man, his friend, me, Firecracker and FC2 all loaded the pieces from two cars into the back door lobby of my building and then into the elevator. We were about half done when a security guard appeared in the doorway, shaking his head.
"He saw you," said the guard, one of several security people with whom I have a good relationship. I looked up and noticed the camera hanging from the ceiling facing the back door.
Busted.
The security manager at the front desk was new, someone I had yet to charm into looking the other way. If he wrote me up, I'd be fined by the condo association board. Minimum $50, I think.
Cub Man and his friend moved their cars around to the front entrance (to avoid being towed). I had to go the front desk to let them in and face the security manager. He read me the riot act (nicely, though) about moving furniture after hours and wasn't too pleased when Cub Man's friend asked if we could borrow the luggage cart by the door.
"Yeah, okay," he said somewhat hesitantly. "So far, I haven't seen anything."
I smiled.
We finished unloading the unit and when we returned the luggage cart, I brought along some Easter candies and a can of soda...with a$20 bill wrapped around it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Oops, almost forgot.
The famous Cheese Ball
2 bricks cream cheese (left out to soften)
1 medium-sized bunch of scallions (chopped with a bit of green, too)
2.5 ounces thin-sliced corned beef (chopped)
1 tspn. garlic salt (more or less to taste)
Mix all in large bowl and shape into ball (use a fork or spoon, for God's sake!) Refrigerate for a few hours. Serve with crackers or toasted bread pieces.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
A txt from afar
Well, color me surprised?!??!
My cell phone brrrinngg'd last night and it was a text message from Flight Attendant, home from his trip to London. He said my call made his day, he was sorry he missed my call, and he was home watching the Cubs game with a houseful of Cubbies (I'm guessing he meant friends, not the actual team players 'cause they were playing in Los Angeles.)
I thought, wait till he hears about my encounter with the team!! But I'll save that for a face-to-face encounter.
Anyway, back to text messaging... It's a tough way to get to know someone, but a very convenient and inexpensive way if they live far away (FA's in Ft. Lauderdale). He's much better at this text message stuff than I am, but we muddled through, texting back and forth as we sat and watched the same game, rooting for the same team, about a thousand miles apart.
He's flying to LA to watch tomorrow night's game and I am terribly jealous! Oh, how I would love to have the freedom to hop on a plane and go to another city on a whim! Of course, he did offer to take me with him (but I thought that might be pushing things for a first date!)
At 11 o'clock, I crawled into my freshly made bed in my freshly remodeled bedroom and texted that I would watch the remaining innings from bed because it's a school night.
FA wrote back, "Talk 2 ya 2morrow. Very glad you called. Go Cubs Go! G*Nite."
Although he didn't say when he'd be in Chicago again, I had to smile.
My cell phone brrrinngg'd last night and it was a text message from Flight Attendant, home from his trip to London. He said my call made his day, he was sorry he missed my call, and he was home watching the Cubs game with a houseful of Cubbies (I'm guessing he meant friends, not the actual team players 'cause they were playing in Los Angeles.)
I thought, wait till he hears about my encounter with the team!! But I'll save that for a face-to-face encounter.
Anyway, back to text messaging... It's a tough way to get to know someone, but a very convenient and inexpensive way if they live far away (FA's in Ft. Lauderdale). He's much better at this text message stuff than I am, but we muddled through, texting back and forth as we sat and watched the same game, rooting for the same team, about a thousand miles apart.
He's flying to LA to watch tomorrow night's game and I am terribly jealous! Oh, how I would love to have the freedom to hop on a plane and go to another city on a whim! Of course, he did offer to take me with him (but I thought that might be pushing things for a first date!)
At 11 o'clock, I crawled into my freshly made bed in my freshly remodeled bedroom and texted that I would watch the remaining innings from bed because it's a school night.
FA wrote back, "Talk 2 ya 2morrow. Very glad you called. Go Cubs Go! G*Nite."
Although he didn't say when he'd be in Chicago again, I had to smile.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Come fly with me
I hope everyone had a safe and fun Easter with lots of chocolate and a lot (or maybe just a little bit) of family time, too! Everything in moderation, right?
Mother Nature rewarded us with a fabulously warm Friday, so I took advantage and threw the top down (I drive a convertible people! don't get weird on me!) and ran some errands while my contractor FINISHED MY ROOM!!! Yep, it's done! Photos of the before and after will be forthcoming.
Friday night, FC2 and I decided to have a mini-girls night out (because it was just the two of us). We had dinner and drinks atPJ Clarke's, a nice "older crowd" establishment that I used to frequent years ago and may have to frequent again. Cute bartender + good jukebox + interesting clientele= one fun and late evening!
I met a flight attendant who is neither female nor gay nor a child- - so far, so good. He lives in Florida but comes to Chicago frequently and is a BIG Cubs fan. He's also run with the bulls in Pamplona, Spain, so international travel isn't just a job, it's a lifestyle. Hmmn?
When he mentioned that he's off for a flight to London, FC2 piped up with a request for a Harrod's bag and I asked if he could pick up some of my favorite moisturizer. Of course, the consumption of several Stoli-and-7s effectively erased the moisturizer name from my memory. Apparently the flight attendant (FA) asked for both of our phone numbers so he could make the delivery. I say "apparently" because I don't remember the request at all (oops!)
FA gave me his business card before we left, so I called the next night and left a message. We'll see...
Easter Sunday hit hard. Okay, it was probably the Stoli that hit me. How much will I burn in Hell for going to my mother's house on Easter Sunday with a hangover? Thankfully, it was unusually quiet as the family gathered for dinner.
Arriving at my mother's house before the crowd, I presented my mom with a watercolor painting kit. She seemed embarrassed that I remembered her comments about her forgotten talent, so I downplayed the impact of the gift. I told her that the gift is just between us and no one needs to know if she sets up an easel in the yard and paints the flowers in bloom. She could take her time and let her hidden talent re-emerge slowly.
My brother and his family arrived and my sister with her kids, and the noise level grew exponentially. Fortunately, dinner was almost ready so the kids retreated to the kitchen and the adults sat in the dining room and a relative quiet fell over the room.
Everyone must have been pretty hungry because dinner was eaten in almost monk-like silence. Until, that is, my sister-in-law cut into the traditional lamb cake after dinner. Since we were all a freaked out by the Halloween mask face at the front of the cake, she cut from the other end. Instead of one solid loaf, the cake was made from two loaves of yellow cake with frosting in the middle.
"Look! A bunny thong!"
Mother Nature rewarded us with a fabulously warm Friday, so I took advantage and threw the top down (I drive a convertible people! don't get weird on me!) and ran some errands while my contractor FINISHED MY ROOM!!! Yep, it's done! Photos of the before and after will be forthcoming.
Friday night, FC2 and I decided to have a mini-girls night out (because it was just the two of us). We had dinner and drinks atPJ Clarke's, a nice "older crowd" establishment that I used to frequent years ago and may have to frequent again. Cute bartender + good jukebox + interesting clientele= one fun and late evening!
I met a flight attendant who is neither female nor gay nor a child- - so far, so good. He lives in Florida but comes to Chicago frequently and is a BIG Cubs fan. He's also run with the bulls in Pamplona, Spain, so international travel isn't just a job, it's a lifestyle. Hmmn?
When he mentioned that he's off for a flight to London, FC2 piped up with a request for a Harrod's bag and I asked if he could pick up some of my favorite moisturizer. Of course, the consumption of several Stoli-and-7s effectively erased the moisturizer name from my memory. Apparently the flight attendant (FA) asked for both of our phone numbers so he could make the delivery. I say "apparently" because I don't remember the request at all (oops!)
FA gave me his business card before we left, so I called the next night and left a message. We'll see...
Easter Sunday hit hard. Okay, it was probably the Stoli that hit me. How much will I burn in Hell for going to my mother's house on Easter Sunday with a hangover? Thankfully, it was unusually quiet as the family gathered for dinner.
Arriving at my mother's house before the crowd, I presented my mom with a watercolor painting kit. She seemed embarrassed that I remembered her comments about her forgotten talent, so I downplayed the impact of the gift. I told her that the gift is just between us and no one needs to know if she sets up an easel in the yard and paints the flowers in bloom. She could take her time and let her hidden talent re-emerge slowly.
My brother and his family arrived and my sister with her kids, and the noise level grew exponentially. Fortunately, dinner was almost ready so the kids retreated to the kitchen and the adults sat in the dining room and a relative quiet fell over the room.
Everyone must have been pretty hungry because dinner was eaten in almost monk-like silence. Until, that is, my sister-in-law cut into the traditional lamb cake after dinner. Since we were all a freaked out by the Halloween mask face at the front of the cake, she cut from the other end. Instead of one solid loaf, the cake was made from two loaves of yellow cake with frosting in the middle.
"Look! A bunny thong!"
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
A bridal blast from the past
The envelope arrived the other day, a small yellow square with my full name and address pre-printed in computer type with an anonymous return address in the western suburbs, an address I did not recognize.
Since this looked very much like one of those junk mail pieces that's disguised as a personal letter, I almost threw it away.
Almost.
Imagine my surprise when I opened it and found an invitation to a bridal shower. The guest of honor is a woman with whom I've had no contact for about two years despite the fact that she lives two miles from me. The shower is being given by women I've never met.
The bride and I worked together for a total of one year and that was almost nine years ago. We were friends after that, hitting bars and parties. But that was years ago and our relationship has dwindled to the point that our only contact is the Christmas newsletter that she sends me every year.
(I have a thing about single people sending out newsletters, but that's a post for another time.)
A few months ago, I received a save-the-date card for her wedding. Geez! You can tell she used to be an event planner. I was pretty surprised at that, but it seems like weddings have (for some people, at least) become a reunion of sorts -- a chance to catch up with distant cousins, former coworkers, grammar school classmates and such.
While weddings have become a mob scene, I've always thought the bridal shower was limited to the inner posse, immediate family and closest friends.
I contacted a friend of mine whom I met when we both worked with the bride. Apparently, she received the save-the-date card, too, although she lives out of state. She's trying to plan a trip to Chicago to coincide with the wedding, so I guess they've kept in touch.
Why was I invited? It couldn't be a situation where the bride is trying to collect gifts from everyone she's ever met. Mommy and Daddy are doctors and they've taken the bride and her brother on wonderful family holidays all over the world.
Nope, it's not about money.
Maybe I'm underestimating the importance of our friendship?
Since this looked very much like one of those junk mail pieces that's disguised as a personal letter, I almost threw it away.
Almost.
Imagine my surprise when I opened it and found an invitation to a bridal shower. The guest of honor is a woman with whom I've had no contact for about two years despite the fact that she lives two miles from me. The shower is being given by women I've never met.
The bride and I worked together for a total of one year and that was almost nine years ago. We were friends after that, hitting bars and parties. But that was years ago and our relationship has dwindled to the point that our only contact is the Christmas newsletter that she sends me every year.
(I have a thing about single people sending out newsletters, but that's a post for another time.)
A few months ago, I received a save-the-date card for her wedding. Geez! You can tell she used to be an event planner. I was pretty surprised at that, but it seems like weddings have (for some people, at least) become a reunion of sorts -- a chance to catch up with distant cousins, former coworkers, grammar school classmates and such.
While weddings have become a mob scene, I've always thought the bridal shower was limited to the inner posse, immediate family and closest friends.
I contacted a friend of mine whom I met when we both worked with the bride. Apparently, she received the save-the-date card, too, although she lives out of state. She's trying to plan a trip to Chicago to coincide with the wedding, so I guess they've kept in touch.
Why was I invited? It couldn't be a situation where the bride is trying to collect gifts from everyone she's ever met. Mommy and Daddy are doctors and they've taken the bride and her brother on wonderful family holidays all over the world.
Nope, it's not about money.
Maybe I'm underestimating the importance of our friendship?
Close, personal friends...or not
There are people out there, perhaps you're one of them, who watch reality TV shows and construct imaginary personal relationships with the characters on the show. They want to ask them, "Why did you sleep with so-and-so?" or "I can't believe you said that?!"
You are absolutely certain that the feeling is mutual and these characters are your best friends. You'd meet for coffee or a beer after work, sharing sob stories of shitty love lives. You'd go shopping together, know their kids' names and share the latest new restaurant or club info.
So, here I am, talking about travel in Australia with Ryan Dempster. The red-haired Cubs pitcher tells me what cities he's seen and where he went diving and bungee-jumping. I ask him if he had time to climb the Sydney Harbor Bridge (he did).
Suddenly, he sticks out his hand, "Hi, I'm Ryan."
"Oh, geez. Um, yeah, hi, I'm ..."
I'm one of those...with the Cubs.
Having survived the bitter cold for the Cubs' home opener on Friday, and the wedding in North Carolina on Saturday, I joined Firecracker, Cat and FC2 for Sunday's series finale with the rat-bastard St. Louis Cardinals.
After the Cubs finished trashing the Cardinals to open the Wrigley Field season, several of the players walked down the street to one of the local watering holes. Firecracker and I stood outside the park, amazed that these local celebrities would WALK! among the crowds! to a public bar!
"Wanna get a drink?" I asked Firecracker, knowing full well the answer.
That's how we met the boys.
You are absolutely certain that the feeling is mutual and these characters are your best friends. You'd meet for coffee or a beer after work, sharing sob stories of shitty love lives. You'd go shopping together, know their kids' names and share the latest new restaurant or club info.
So, here I am, talking about travel in Australia with Ryan Dempster. The red-haired Cubs pitcher tells me what cities he's seen and where he went diving and bungee-jumping. I ask him if he had time to climb the Sydney Harbor Bridge (he did).
Suddenly, he sticks out his hand, "Hi, I'm Ryan."
"Oh, geez. Um, yeah, hi, I'm ..."
I'm one of those...with the Cubs.
Having survived the bitter cold for the Cubs' home opener on Friday, and the wedding in North Carolina on Saturday, I joined Firecracker, Cat and FC2 for Sunday's series finale with the rat-bastard St. Louis Cardinals.
After the Cubs finished trashing the Cardinals to open the Wrigley Field season, several of the players walked down the street to one of the local watering holes. Firecracker and I stood outside the park, amazed that these local celebrities would WALK! among the crowds! to a public bar!
"Wanna get a drink?" I asked Firecracker, knowing full well the answer.
That's how we met the boys.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
La Vie en Rose
The universe has been sending me signals today. Does that ever happen to you?
Allow me to explain:
A few months ago, the movie "French Kiss" was on cable (and I watched it) for the umpteenth time. It's got wonderful scenes of France and several songs in French (listen here), including actor Kevin Kline singing "La Mer (The Sea)" in French! Okay, he won't win any Grammy awards. Who knew he could sing, let alone in French?!
After watching the movie, I decided that I absolutely HAD to have the soundtrack. On the hunt over the next few weeks, I swept into every music store I passed (including one in NY with Firecracker), but no luck.
DUH! I got online at Amazon.com and found it, but the brain surgeons at Amazon found a way to screw up my credit card purchase several times over the course of a week or two, so I cancelled the order.
Not to be daunted, I logged into BestBuy.com and found the soundtrack and instantly ordered it. And then the waiting game...
Yesterday, the CD arrived, but I was too busy at home to listen to it. I brought it to work and decided that we would have French music at my German office. (I've practically memorized it by now, but no, I can't sing along...yet.)
On the way to the office this morning, I grabbed my latest travel magazine and the cover story was on Provence (in the south of France). Descriptions of the beach at St. Tropez, the magnificent cheeses and the gorgeous scenery inspired me to daydream about my annual birthday trip.
For some reason, I was trying to think of the French word for "please." After four years of high school French and one year in college, I was coming up blank. This was going to bug me!
When I got to work, I discovered (or remembered actually) that one of my coworkers is on vacation in Paris at this very moment!
I logged in and found a French-English dictionary online. Of course, the moment I called up the website, I remembered what I forgot.
Can someone tell me, s'il vous plait, how the weather is in the City of Lights in November??
Allow me to explain:
A few months ago, the movie "French Kiss" was on cable (and I watched it) for the umpteenth time. It's got wonderful scenes of France and several songs in French (listen here), including actor Kevin Kline singing "La Mer (The Sea)" in French! Okay, he won't win any Grammy awards. Who knew he could sing, let alone in French?!
After watching the movie, I decided that I absolutely HAD to have the soundtrack. On the hunt over the next few weeks, I swept into every music store I passed (including one in NY with Firecracker), but no luck.
DUH! I got online at Amazon.com and found it, but the brain surgeons at Amazon found a way to screw up my credit card purchase several times over the course of a week or two, so I cancelled the order.
Not to be daunted, I logged into BestBuy.com and found the soundtrack and instantly ordered it. And then the waiting game...
Yesterday, the CD arrived, but I was too busy at home to listen to it. I brought it to work and decided that we would have French music at my German office. (I've practically memorized it by now, but no, I can't sing along...yet.)
On the way to the office this morning, I grabbed my latest travel magazine and the cover story was on Provence (in the south of France). Descriptions of the beach at St. Tropez, the magnificent cheeses and the gorgeous scenery inspired me to daydream about my annual birthday trip.
For some reason, I was trying to think of the French word for "please." After four years of high school French and one year in college, I was coming up blank. This was going to bug me!
When I got to work, I discovered (or remembered actually) that one of my coworkers is on vacation in Paris at this very moment!
I logged in and found a French-English dictionary online. Of course, the moment I called up the website, I remembered what I forgot.
Can someone tell me, s'il vous plait, how the weather is in the City of Lights in November??
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Dinner with the King
The Lion King saga continues....I received an email from Lion King the other day, after I responded that we could be friends and dinner with a friend would be nice.
He wrote in all caps: OUR GATHERING AS FRIENDS. (Yeah, like I didn't remember that part.)
He suggested dinner at a Tai restaurant (his spelling- -Yes, I'm anal that way!). The dinner won't be until mid April, though, because he knows that I'm crazy busy this weekend.
How busy?
How's this: on Friday, I will be attending the Cubs home opener against the rat-bastard St. Louis Cardinals with FC2.
Afterwards, we will meet Firecracker for drinks somewhere in Wrigleyville. Unfortunately, I have to be home ridiculously early because on Saturday morning, I fly down to North Carolina for my friend's wedding. I'll fly back on Sunday afternoon and meet up with the aforementioned gang for Sunday night's ESPN-televised Cubs game.
Yup, that's crazy busy!
Everybody please say a little prayer that none of my flights are delayed. If the arrival is delayed more than 1 or 2 hours, I'll miss the wedding. If the return is delayed the same amount of time, I'll miss the beginning of the Cubs game.
Oh, and while I'm splitting my weekend between Wrigley Field and North Carolina, my contractor will be installing my Brazilian Koa (tigerwood) floor! FINALLY!!!
I get tired just thinking about it.
He wrote in all caps: OUR GATHERING AS FRIENDS. (Yeah, like I didn't remember that part.)
He suggested dinner at a Tai restaurant (his spelling- -Yes, I'm anal that way!). The dinner won't be until mid April, though, because he knows that I'm crazy busy this weekend.
How busy?
How's this: on Friday, I will be attending the Cubs home opener against the rat-bastard St. Louis Cardinals with FC2.
Afterwards, we will meet Firecracker for drinks somewhere in Wrigleyville. Unfortunately, I have to be home ridiculously early because on Saturday morning, I fly down to North Carolina for my friend's wedding. I'll fly back on Sunday afternoon and meet up with the aforementioned gang for Sunday night's ESPN-televised Cubs game.
Yup, that's crazy busy!
Everybody please say a little prayer that none of my flights are delayed. If the arrival is delayed more than 1 or 2 hours, I'll miss the wedding. If the return is delayed the same amount of time, I'll miss the beginning of the Cubs game.
Oh, and while I'm splitting my weekend between Wrigley Field and North Carolina, my contractor will be installing my Brazilian Koa (tigerwood) floor! FINALLY!!!
I get tired just thinking about it.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Wanted: real fans
As most of you know, I'm a Cubs fan.
But unlike most Cubs fans, I do not hate the White Sox. Their fans? Maybe. But not the team. In fact, I was very happy for the South Side team when they won the World Series last year.
Which brings me to this year and the Sox' season-opening series against the Cleveland Indians. All the pomp and circumstance, the wild and crazy cheering warmed the night as White Sox fans showed up in droves for the season opening festivities which included the unveiling of the 2005 World Series championship banner.
Sox win! Sox win! Sox win (after a 3-hour rain delay)!
Attendance: 38,802.
Today, the White Sox received their championship rings and gave out replicas of said rings to the first 20,000 fans who showed up. From what I hear, the ring ceremony was the envy of remote kingdoms across the globe.
Sox lose! Sox lose! Sox lose.
Attendance: 37,591.
Tomorrow, the White Sox will wrap up the series with the Indians at The Cell. The Sox will finish their first home series as the defending champions, handing out trophy replicas to the first 20,000 faithful to go through the turnstiles. The chest-pounding will continue for one more day in front of the no-longer-suffering White Sox fans!
Here's the sad but true kicker...
THERE ARE STILL TICKETS AVAILABLE!
But unlike most Cubs fans, I do not hate the White Sox. Their fans? Maybe. But not the team. In fact, I was very happy for the South Side team when they won the World Series last year.
Which brings me to this year and the Sox' season-opening series against the Cleveland Indians. All the pomp and circumstance, the wild and crazy cheering warmed the night as White Sox fans showed up in droves for the season opening festivities which included the unveiling of the 2005 World Series championship banner.
Sox win! Sox win! Sox win (after a 3-hour rain delay)!
Attendance: 38,802.
Today, the White Sox received their championship rings and gave out replicas of said rings to the first 20,000 fans who showed up. From what I hear, the ring ceremony was the envy of remote kingdoms across the globe.
Sox lose! Sox lose! Sox lose.
Attendance: 37,591.
Tomorrow, the White Sox will wrap up the series with the Indians at The Cell. The Sox will finish their first home series as the defending champions, handing out trophy replicas to the first 20,000 faithful to go through the turnstiles. The chest-pounding will continue for one more day in front of the no-longer-suffering White Sox fans!
Here's the sad but true kicker...
THERE ARE STILL TICKETS AVAILABLE!
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Friends...with no benefits
After a furious volley of emails, Lion King and I have decided that we'll be friends and have dinner some time. Dinner - - and nothing else.
I know what you're thinking, this could be trouble. I've been down this road before and the potholes are numerous. It starts out innocently enough with a lunch or dinner; later on, a dinner is followed by drinks; another dinner is followed by a whole slew of drinks and before you know it, you're making out in the corner of a dark bar.
THIS IS NOT GOING THERE.
Lion King even mentioned that we wouldn't work out as a couple anyway because of the whole Cubs/Cardinals business. This rang true when he pulled the holier-than-thou attitude that marks a true rat-bastard Cardinal fan.
There is a silver lining to this cloud, though. Although this is not supposed to be a dating situation, it might actually have the after-effects of one because, as they say, "nothing gets you a date like having a date."
I'll keep you posted.
I know what you're thinking, this could be trouble. I've been down this road before and the potholes are numerous. It starts out innocently enough with a lunch or dinner; later on, a dinner is followed by drinks; another dinner is followed by a whole slew of drinks and before you know it, you're making out in the corner of a dark bar.
THIS IS NOT GOING THERE.
Lion King even mentioned that we wouldn't work out as a couple anyway because of the whole Cubs/Cardinals business. This rang true when he pulled the holier-than-thou attitude that marks a true rat-bastard Cardinal fan.
There is a silver lining to this cloud, though. Although this is not supposed to be a dating situation, it might actually have the after-effects of one because, as they say, "nothing gets you a date like having a date."
I'll keep you posted.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
The other shoe has dropped
Well, Firecracker must have been right. When I voiced my surprise that Lion King didn't send me an email thanking me for Friday evening's entertainment, she mentioned that maybe he didn't have my email at home.
Yesterday I received a thank you email from Lion King with the following:
"(LOL) I know because I'm one of those smokers you would never date me, however, would you consider us going out to dinner some time?"
AARRGGHH!!! What part of "I don't date smokers" doesn't he understand??? And what's with the LOL??? Does he think I'm joking??
Even if he didn't smoke, there are other issues, namely: he lives about an hour away so he's GU (geographically undesirable) plus he owns FOUR cats! Hey, I love animals just as much as anyone, but a single guy that owns four cats is pretty far down the road toward crazy-hood!
I know what you're thinking...we could go to dinner as friends.
As many women know, it's not possible to go for a platonic dinner with a guy who's really "into you." You try to be friendly and have a nice time, but pretty soon he's calling all the time, finding ways to "accidentally" run into you, emailing you every little mildly interesting junk mail he's ever received - - anything to keep in contact with you.
Oh, and there's the whole volleyball thing. Whatever happens here will definitely end up as post-game fodder for the team (at least I think so).
Yesterday I received a thank you email from Lion King with the following:
"(LOL) I know because I'm one of those smokers you would never date me, however, would you consider us going out to dinner some time?"
AARRGGHH!!! What part of "I don't date smokers" doesn't he understand??? And what's with the LOL??? Does he think I'm joking??
Even if he didn't smoke, there are other issues, namely: he lives about an hour away so he's GU (geographically undesirable) plus he owns FOUR cats! Hey, I love animals just as much as anyone, but a single guy that owns four cats is pretty far down the road toward crazy-hood!
I know what you're thinking...we could go to dinner as friends.
As many women know, it's not possible to go for a platonic dinner with a guy who's really "into you." You try to be friendly and have a nice time, but pretty soon he's calling all the time, finding ways to "accidentally" run into you, emailing you every little mildly interesting junk mail he's ever received - - anything to keep in contact with you.
Oh, and there's the whole volleyball thing. Whatever happens here will definitely end up as post-game fodder for the team (at least I think so).
Monday, March 27, 2006
Wingman schwingman
How to Woo a Woman (without actually saying the words) by Lion King:
Step 1: Accept her invitation with the (false) premise that you will help her meet other men.
Step 2: Call several times enroute to confirm arrival time.
Step 3: Engage her friends in conversation upon arrival. Give "intended" a short hug hello.
Step 4: Compliment her on her outfit.
Step 5: When she says something funny, laugh appropriately and place your hand on her arm.
Step 6: Only leave her side three times throughout evening (to smoke outside).
Step 7: Ask numerous questions about her likes and dislikes, tilting your head close to hers because the music is too loud.
Step 8: Pretending to be a wingman, wonder aloud why she isn't being asked out on dates all the time.
Step 9: When friends get up to mingle, immediately find a waitress to buy a round for just the two of you.
Step 10: Don't look away from the table at any time (okay, except for when that cheerleader character started throwing her long blond hair around).
And then....
NOTHING!!
Step 11: Leave at an appropriate hour, saying goodbye to "intended" with nothing more than a friendly hug and a "thanks for the invite."
Step 1: Accept her invitation with the (false) premise that you will help her meet other men.
Step 2: Call several times enroute to confirm arrival time.
Step 3: Engage her friends in conversation upon arrival. Give "intended" a short hug hello.
Step 4: Compliment her on her outfit.
Step 5: When she says something funny, laugh appropriately and place your hand on her arm.
Step 6: Only leave her side three times throughout evening (to smoke outside).
Step 7: Ask numerous questions about her likes and dislikes, tilting your head close to hers because the music is too loud.
Step 8: Pretending to be a wingman, wonder aloud why she isn't being asked out on dates all the time.
Step 9: When friends get up to mingle, immediately find a waitress to buy a round for just the two of you.
Step 10: Don't look away from the table at any time (okay, except for when that cheerleader character started throwing her long blond hair around).
And then....
NOTHING!!
Step 11: Leave at an appropriate hour, saying goodbye to "intended" with nothing more than a friendly hug and a "thanks for the invite."
Friday, March 24, 2006
Friend of a friend of a friend
In keeping with a tradition begun in college, I started my weekend last night with a "girls night out." Actually, it was a bit more organized than just a few chicks- - try more than 20!! Congrats, by the way, to Violet and Firecracker for putting together such a wonderful gathering.
Ladies (and guys, for that matter): do all of your friends know each other??
Each of us has friends from different segments of our life, from our workplace or our school or our hobbies. Their only common thread is us.
Or is it??
Among the women I met were: a media relations executive who's dating a CNN reporter; a colleague of an ex-boyfriend of mine; a young woman who wants to get a beach volleyball team together with me.
So much in common and yet, so much more to share!
I hope we do more of these.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
In other news...
Lion King is joining me and my gang for a singles mixer tonight! He said he's looking forward to "hanging out with me and my posse."
He emailed me earlier this week and asked what I do for a living. Said it was "marketing information" because he's going to be my wingman. I told him that men don't really care WHAT a woman does for a living unless she's a stripper or a porn star!
On the remodeling front, I've decided on Brazilian Koa (also called tiger wood - - no kidding!) for my floor. Unfortunately, it does not come as a floating floor so basically we're talking about a bunch more time, labor and, of course! $$$
Oh, and for those that read the last post regarding my mother's artistic talent, yes, I did buy a watercolor painting kit to give her for Easter (all together now - - awww!)
Ladies (and guys, for that matter): do all of your friends know each other??
Each of us has friends from different segments of our life, from our workplace or our school or our hobbies. Their only common thread is us.
Or is it??
Among the women I met were: a media relations executive who's dating a CNN reporter; a colleague of an ex-boyfriend of mine; a young woman who wants to get a beach volleyball team together with me.
So much in common and yet, so much more to share!
I hope we do more of these.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
In other news...
Lion King is joining me and my gang for a singles mixer tonight! He said he's looking forward to "hanging out with me and my posse."
He emailed me earlier this week and asked what I do for a living. Said it was "marketing information" because he's going to be my wingman. I told him that men don't really care WHAT a woman does for a living unless she's a stripper or a porn star!
On the remodeling front, I've decided on Brazilian Koa (also called tiger wood - - no kidding!) for my floor. Unfortunately, it does not come as a floating floor so basically we're talking about a bunch more time, labor and, of course! $$$
Oh, and for those that read the last post regarding my mother's artistic talent, yes, I did buy a watercolor painting kit to give her for Easter (all together now - - awww!)
Monday, March 20, 2006
Getting to know you
In my ongoing attempt to skim days off my time in Purgatory, I treated my mother and brother to a live show in downtown Chicago yesterday. Afterwards, we all went to dinner at a nearby steakhouse.
My mother lives in the suburbs but loves to come downtown, whether it's to see the storefront lights at Christmastime or a rare dinner/show with me. I think the excitement of city life reminds her of her younger days when she and my father used to attend cocktail parties, looking every bit the socialite couple of the '50s.
Relaxing with a pre-dinner old-fashioned (that's a drink, folks), my mother began to talk about her childhood. Since she was 36 years old when I was born, these rare insights are always wonderful surprises for me.
My mother recently returned from a visit to her sister who lives in Florida. My aunt has, in the last few years, taken up sketching and painting. She's pretty good, too, at least to my untrained eye. I've got a few note cards that are adorned with her artwork.
It seems that as a child, my mother loved art and was, in fact, offered a three-month scholarship to the Art Institute! Her parents, realizing the impracticality of a daughter leaving a job during the Depression to study art, denied her this opportunity.
"I guess God took my talent and gave it to my sister," my mom said.
My mother lives in the suburbs but loves to come downtown, whether it's to see the storefront lights at Christmastime or a rare dinner/show with me. I think the excitement of city life reminds her of her younger days when she and my father used to attend cocktail parties, looking every bit the socialite couple of the '50s.
Relaxing with a pre-dinner old-fashioned (that's a drink, folks), my mother began to talk about her childhood. Since she was 36 years old when I was born, these rare insights are always wonderful surprises for me.
My mother recently returned from a visit to her sister who lives in Florida. My aunt has, in the last few years, taken up sketching and painting. She's pretty good, too, at least to my untrained eye. I've got a few note cards that are adorned with her artwork.
It seems that as a child, my mother loved art and was, in fact, offered a three-month scholarship to the Art Institute! Her parents, realizing the impracticality of a daughter leaving a job during the Depression to study art, denied her this opportunity.
"I guess God took my talent and gave it to my sister," my mom said.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Half-full or half-empty?
I awoke today to the ringing of my cell phone. It was my contractor, letting me know that he had just left the security desk in my building where he had dropped off a sample of a wood called cherry betula. I'm supposed to look at it and decide if I'd like to substitute that for the cracked bamboo flooring.
I looked at the clock. 7:10 am CRAP!!! My alarm didn't go off!
A near miss...
After rushing to get dressed for work, I surprised myself by actually remembering to leave from the front entrance so I could pick up the wood sample. (I often leave through the garage.)
Although I live in a big building, the security guard remembered me and told me that I had a package there, too. She handed it to me. The package arrived the previous day, but the notice didn't arrive in my mailbox until late last night. If she hadn't remembered, I wouldn't have received the package till tonight. No biggie, right?
The package contained my corporate tax return which is DUE TODAY!
Another near miss...
Am I being blessed with lucky coincidences or just barely avoiding catastrophe?
I looked at the clock. 7:10 am CRAP!!! My alarm didn't go off!
A near miss...
After rushing to get dressed for work, I surprised myself by actually remembering to leave from the front entrance so I could pick up the wood sample. (I often leave through the garage.)
Although I live in a big building, the security guard remembered me and told me that I had a package there, too. She handed it to me. The package arrived the previous day, but the notice didn't arrive in my mailbox until late last night. If she hadn't remembered, I wouldn't have received the package till tonight. No biggie, right?
The package contained my corporate tax return which is DUE TODAY!
Another near miss...
Am I being blessed with lucky coincidences or just barely avoiding catastrophe?
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
A day (or four) in the sun
Highlights from Spring Training 2006:
- Relief pitcher Roberto Novoa signing autographs, completely unaware that he's tucked his designer shirt into his (no doubt) designer underwear! Okay, maybe I shouldn't pick on him since he's currently suffering from the flu.
- Our Little Lost Cub: Matt Murton seemed a bit lost when Firecracker and I saw him arrive at the Peoria Sports Complex. We were standing on an overpass above the tunnel to the outfield when the Cubs' red-haired left fielder drove up. He walked past the now-empty team bus (apparently, only the scrubs ride the bus!) and turned toward a few open garage doors that enclosed the field maintenance equipment. He turned left. He turned right, stopped and looked around. "It's that way, Matt!" we shouted, pointing toward the tunnel. "Uh, thanks," said Murton with a wave.
- A few minutes after the Murton encounter, after the rest of the team had already begun stretching on the outfield grass, Cubs closer Ryan Dempster arrived. For once, I actually thought of something clever to say. "It figures that the closer would be the last one to show up!" He laughed and waved.
- While celebrating Firecracker's birthday at a cool little nightclub, yours truly almost GOT LUCKY! I saw almost only because I declined the opportunity but the situation definitely makes the highlight reel of this year's Spring Training trip because my potential paramour was an Arizona State University frat boy!!! Yes, indeed! Firecracker and I were propositioned (well, she didn't know it because her attention was elsewhere) by college boys! Honestly, I didn't realize it was THAT dark in there! ;-)
- An elderly man sat in front of Firecracker and I at one of the games. He sat there, in the shade behind home plate, with a chair cushion on his seat and another on the seat next to him. Sometime in the early innings, he got up and walked carefully down the stairs. A few minutes later we spotted him at the bottom of the steep cement stairs, helping his wife gingerly and oh-so-slowly climb the mountain that would bring them to their ballpark perch. The man had one hand on his wife's back and the other on her butt, carefully guiding her up each step. When they reached us, he helped lower her into her seat, using one hand to pull her sweater down over her butt just before she sat. Firecracker and I smiled at the scene. That's what I'm waiting for, someone to push my butt up the stairs.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
The battle of the bamboo
I realized that it's been awhile since I updated my loyal readers (both of you!) on the status of "Project Beach House."
The bamboo hardwood floor has been installed, the new custom-made oak closet doors have been hung, the sunny yellow painting has been done and I've spent waaaay too much time peeking in to admire the beautiful sanctuary that is now MINE!
Truth be told, I've been hearing odd popping noises coming from the still-empty bedroom. (It'll remain empty until the hallway - - a last-minute addition - - is completed.) It's not a repetitive sound like a clock ticking, just every once in a while and just loud enough to make me jump.
Is the room haunted?? Are the closet doors snapping off their hinges? Is the paint bubbling up and popping from some unseen heat source?
Oh, how I wish it was that easy!
Determined to discover the source of the mystery clatter, I tiptoed into the bedroom one sunny morning and squatted down and studied the individual planks of bamboo. And there it was, just as I feared.
A crack. And another one. And another one.
My heart sank.
Tiny cracks - -some only an inch long, some more than a foot - - appear on more than half of my brand-new bamboo planks.
My contractor, Polish Boy, came over and agreed with my assessment.
"Shit," if I can quote him.
The materials have a 30-year warranty and his work is guaranteed for one year, so now the battle begins. PB will call the distributor and discuss replacing the materials...
Oops, excuse me. PB just called me to discuss the latest chapter of my remodeling nightmare.
He plans to send a registered letter to the distributor (who has NOT called him back) and demand a refund for the materials. In the meantime, he asked me to look at samples of another manufacturer's floors and pick a new floor. He'll credit the amount I've already paid for the bamboo towards the new floor.
Trouble is, the new manufacturer does not offer bamboo and I kinda had my heart set on that. Oh well, maybe I'll like Brazilian cherry or something else tropical.
The bamboo hardwood floor has been installed, the new custom-made oak closet doors have been hung, the sunny yellow painting has been done and I've spent waaaay too much time peeking in to admire the beautiful sanctuary that is now MINE!
Truth be told, I've been hearing odd popping noises coming from the still-empty bedroom. (It'll remain empty until the hallway - - a last-minute addition - - is completed.) It's not a repetitive sound like a clock ticking, just every once in a while and just loud enough to make me jump.
Is the room haunted?? Are the closet doors snapping off their hinges? Is the paint bubbling up and popping from some unseen heat source?
Oh, how I wish it was that easy!
Determined to discover the source of the mystery clatter, I tiptoed into the bedroom one sunny morning and squatted down and studied the individual planks of bamboo. And there it was, just as I feared.
A crack. And another one. And another one.
My heart sank.
Tiny cracks - -some only an inch long, some more than a foot - - appear on more than half of my brand-new bamboo planks.
My contractor, Polish Boy, came over and agreed with my assessment.
"Shit," if I can quote him.
The materials have a 30-year warranty and his work is guaranteed for one year, so now the battle begins. PB will call the distributor and discuss replacing the materials...
Oops, excuse me. PB just called me to discuss the latest chapter of my remodeling nightmare.
He plans to send a registered letter to the distributor (who has NOT called him back) and demand a refund for the materials. In the meantime, he asked me to look at samples of another manufacturer's floors and pick a new floor. He'll credit the amount I've already paid for the bamboo towards the new floor.
Trouble is, the new manufacturer does not offer bamboo and I kinda had my heart set on that. Oh well, maybe I'll like Brazilian cherry or something else tropical.
Lion King (the sequel)
Having lost two of three of our final regular season volleyball games last night, my team and I retreated to our favorite watering hole to drown our sorrows. During the walk over, one of the two married teammates mention that one of my other teammates took a liking to Firecracker when she filled in last week.
Hmmn??? Which teammate, I wondered? Was it Lion King? He's always so friendly to everybody that it's hard to distinguish between innocent bon homie and real flirting. Apparently, Lion King is great at talking to women but horrible at "closing the deal," as Married Teammate (MT) put it.
Lion King, Teacher and I sat at one end of our long table and since we are all single, the conversation inevitably turned to dating. I had previously invited both men (intelligent, over 35, employed) to a singles event that I attended with some girlfriends. LK apologized for not receiving the email in time to respond, but promised to make good on the next invitation.
And then the questions began...
"So, if we're going to be your wingmen, what kind of guy do you like?" asked LK.
So, I'm going to have two men finding dates for me? This could be interesting.
Over the next two hours and definitely more than two pitchers of beer, the questioning continued.
"What physical type? Tall? Short? Heavy? Somebody that works out?" LK and I have compared workouts in prior beer-fests. He's been working out since he was 16.
"I know you don't smoke, but would you date a smoker?"
Okay, that's when I got suspicious (so shoot me, I'm not too quick on the pickup--pun intended).
LK smokes.
"You said that you'd like a guy to be able to talk about his interests, things he's passionate about, right? For most of the season, I didn't know what LK did for a living because all he talked about was his volunteer work.
"What would be a romantic date?"
I had to mention that the idea of "romantic" is different for everyone.
"No, I mean YOU! What do YOU think would make a romantic date?"
Uh-oh! Did I mention that we've been drinking beer this entire time??
Long story short...we all walked back to our cars and said good night.
Deal left very much open.
Hmmn??? Which teammate, I wondered? Was it Lion King? He's always so friendly to everybody that it's hard to distinguish between innocent bon homie and real flirting. Apparently, Lion King is great at talking to women but horrible at "closing the deal," as Married Teammate (MT) put it.
Lion King, Teacher and I sat at one end of our long table and since we are all single, the conversation inevitably turned to dating. I had previously invited both men (intelligent, over 35, employed) to a singles event that I attended with some girlfriends. LK apologized for not receiving the email in time to respond, but promised to make good on the next invitation.
And then the questions began...
"So, if we're going to be your wingmen, what kind of guy do you like?" asked LK.
So, I'm going to have two men finding dates for me? This could be interesting.
Over the next two hours and definitely more than two pitchers of beer, the questioning continued.
"What physical type? Tall? Short? Heavy? Somebody that works out?" LK and I have compared workouts in prior beer-fests. He's been working out since he was 16.
"I know you don't smoke, but would you date a smoker?"
Okay, that's when I got suspicious (so shoot me, I'm not too quick on the pickup--pun intended).
LK smokes.
"You said that you'd like a guy to be able to talk about his interests, things he's passionate about, right? For most of the season, I didn't know what LK did for a living because all he talked about was his volunteer work.
"What would be a romantic date?"
I had to mention that the idea of "romantic" is different for everyone.
"No, I mean YOU! What do YOU think would make a romantic date?"
Uh-oh! Did I mention that we've been drinking beer this entire time??
Long story short...we all walked back to our cars and said good night.
Deal left very much open.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Justice served
The shot of the night at last night's volleyball game belonged to Firecracker, who filled in for a missing teammate. While she hasn't played volleyball in a long time, Firecracker did just fine (especially since she was coming straight from her tennis class...okay, we stopped at a bar before the game, but that's another matter).
In a common miscue for our team, she shanked a serve receive onto the neighboring court, hitting another player in the back of the neck. The neighboring player was clad in not only black elbow pads, but a black sweatband and black GLOVES!!! He wasn't hurt, but you'd think he was shot by a rifle the way his body shook from the impact.
My team fell over themselves laughing at this goofball. In past games against his team, my gang realized that he takes his volleyball a bit TOO seriously and was the perfect target for our rookie ringer to hit.
If not for the fact that Firecracker injured her wrist with the double shot of sports activity last night, it would've been the perfect warmup to our Spring Training trip which begins TOMORROW!!!!
Okay, so she'll have to drink her beer left-handed...
In a common miscue for our team, she shanked a serve receive onto the neighboring court, hitting another player in the back of the neck. The neighboring player was clad in not only black elbow pads, but a black sweatband and black GLOVES!!! He wasn't hurt, but you'd think he was shot by a rifle the way his body shook from the impact.
My team fell over themselves laughing at this goofball. In past games against his team, my gang realized that he takes his volleyball a bit TOO seriously and was the perfect target for our rookie ringer to hit.
If not for the fact that Firecracker injured her wrist with the double shot of sports activity last night, it would've been the perfect warmup to our Spring Training trip which begins TOMORROW!!!!
Okay, so she'll have to drink her beer left-handed...
Saturday, February 25, 2006
...make me a match
One of the girls in our "girls night out" suggested that I go on a blind date with her boss.
It used to be that I would never even CONSIDER a blind date, but having had just five dates in all of 2005, I've loosened up on that rule.
The "boss" is described as a huge Cubs fan (good), works out a lot (good), 52 years old (not ideal, but not horrible), bald (ditto) and "kind of like a dad" (um, ..what??). It occurred to me that Matchmaker, being all of 26 or 27, might consider fatherhood the final nail in the coffin where romance is concerned.
Matchmaker and I only met through a mutual friend that evening, so she really doesn't know anything about me (except for my age). What would make her think that her boss and I would make a good match?
Another of our girls gave me Matchmaker's cell phone number and suggested I call and ask about her boss. I haven't called yet because I'm afraid that Matchmaker might consider anyone over 40 as dead and buried so they'd match up just fine (like all-white gym socks thrown together in a drawer.)
I was thinking about the blind date possibility this morning over my coffee. I mentioned the situation to my Mexican friends at the counter of my usual breakfast place and apparently the customer at the end overheard me.
Getting up to leave, the woman, a senior citizen who not long ago was beautiful, tapped me on the arm and said, "After two marriages and two love affairs, I met the love of my life at 50 on a blind date. Then he died and I haven't met anyone since.
"It's one night out of your life. Go!"
At least I could make the call...
It used to be that I would never even CONSIDER a blind date, but having had just five dates in all of 2005, I've loosened up on that rule.
The "boss" is described as a huge Cubs fan (good), works out a lot (good), 52 years old (not ideal, but not horrible), bald (ditto) and "kind of like a dad" (um, ..what??). It occurred to me that Matchmaker, being all of 26 or 27, might consider fatherhood the final nail in the coffin where romance is concerned.
Matchmaker and I only met through a mutual friend that evening, so she really doesn't know anything about me (except for my age). What would make her think that her boss and I would make a good match?
Another of our girls gave me Matchmaker's cell phone number and suggested I call and ask about her boss. I haven't called yet because I'm afraid that Matchmaker might consider anyone over 40 as dead and buried so they'd match up just fine (like all-white gym socks thrown together in a drawer.)
I was thinking about the blind date possibility this morning over my coffee. I mentioned the situation to my Mexican friends at the counter of my usual breakfast place and apparently the customer at the end overheard me.
Getting up to leave, the woman, a senior citizen who not long ago was beautiful, tapped me on the arm and said, "After two marriages and two love affairs, I met the love of my life at 50 on a blind date. Then he died and I haven't met anyone since.
"It's one night out of your life. Go!"
At least I could make the call...
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Thoughts for the day
Random thoughts on a boring Wednesday...
- Is 40 too old to be sending an older brother a birthday card containing the word "fart"?
- USA Channel is featuring an interesting men's Olympic hockey game between the Czech Republic and Slovakia. Whaddya wanna bet these guys shared a backyard fence up until a few years ago?
- The absolute best present for a woman after a bitter divorce battle can be found here.
- Milka and Lindt make the absolute BEST CHOCOLATE EVER!!! This came to mind today because one of my wonderful co-workers (they aren't all wonderful, but this one is) brought me a surfboard-sized slab of Milka from Germany.
- What's the best way to announce the grand re-opening of a newly renovated bedroom? (And try not to get me flagged by the blogger police, will ya??)
- Is 40 too old to be sending an older brother a birthday card containing the word "fart"?
- USA Channel is featuring an interesting men's Olympic hockey game between the Czech Republic and Slovakia. Whaddya wanna bet these guys shared a backyard fence up until a few years ago?
- The absolute best present for a woman after a bitter divorce battle can be found here.
- Milka and Lindt make the absolute BEST CHOCOLATE EVER!!! This came to mind today because one of my wonderful co-workers (they aren't all wonderful, but this one is) brought me a surfboard-sized slab of Milka from Germany.
- What's the best way to announce the grand re-opening of a newly renovated bedroom? (And try not to get me flagged by the blogger police, will ya??)
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Game on!
Firecracker and I met up with a group of other single gals for a "girls night out" on Friday. The original plan was to attend a singles mixer but that ended up as a bust because the event was an estrogen tsunami with a measly dozen men in attendance.
Ah...spring.
Temperatures go up, hemlines go up, libidos go up. Oh, and it's baseball season. In spring there are endless opportunities, boatloads of potential and no crushed feelings...yet.
At our second (and last) stop of the evening, I saw a potential suitor arrive with his wingman. He had already secured a cocktail and was heading to the middle room of the bar. It's been a while and my form might be rusty but I was willing to step in and take a few swings.
The stats on this guy looked good: over 30, never been married, a bit over 6-feet tall, good smile, nice hair, owns his own home...and he's a lawyer! Wingman jumped in with some Jerry Maguire-like PR, informing me that this guy OWNS the law firm where he works.
"Wow! He hit that one a mile!!"
Okay, so the guy has some money. That's nice. It would be a nice change of pace to date a man who doesn't consider pizza and a movie a "fancy evening." He probably owns more than one suit, too. (So I like my guys to look nice, so sue me!...pardon the pun)
But is that all there is to him?
No.
Is he the endangered species of man known as sports fan?
Yes!
Does he like to travel?
Yes, he owns a boat!
More importantly, is he interested in me or just waiting for something better to walk by??
Um, well...I've never been called a "minx" before. I'll take that as a good sign.
"This guy has future all-star written all over him."
As the night wore on, my friends decided to hang 'em up since the talent pool had diminished significantly. In the other room, the Lawyer became increasingly drunk. Strangely enough, I was sober from the alcohol, but drunk on the attention. Soon, the Lawyer was sitting on a stool with his arms around my waist (yay!! for my sexy, hot, fuzzy sweater!)
"So, I'm 32. How old are you?"
"I'm 40." I answered, backing away a bit to see his reaction.
"That's great. I love older women. I always go out with older women."
"Oooh, hit by the pitch! That's gonna leave a mark."
The evening went downhill from there. It was pretty clear to me that the Lawyer wasn't so much looking to begin a relationship as he was trying to jump-start a booty call.
As a veteran of the game, I know the importance of a good nights' sleep, so I jumped in a cab - alone- and wrote off the evening as good practice for what could be a very exciting season.
Ah...spring.
Temperatures go up, hemlines go up, libidos go up. Oh, and it's baseball season. In spring there are endless opportunities, boatloads of potential and no crushed feelings...yet.
At our second (and last) stop of the evening, I saw a potential suitor arrive with his wingman. He had already secured a cocktail and was heading to the middle room of the bar. It's been a while and my form might be rusty but I was willing to step in and take a few swings.
The stats on this guy looked good: over 30, never been married, a bit over 6-feet tall, good smile, nice hair, owns his own home...and he's a lawyer! Wingman jumped in with some Jerry Maguire-like PR, informing me that this guy OWNS the law firm where he works.
"Wow! He hit that one a mile!!"
Okay, so the guy has some money. That's nice. It would be a nice change of pace to date a man who doesn't consider pizza and a movie a "fancy evening." He probably owns more than one suit, too. (So I like my guys to look nice, so sue me!...pardon the pun)
But is that all there is to him?
No.
Is he the endangered species of man known as sports fan?
Yes!
Does he like to travel?
Yes, he owns a boat!
More importantly, is he interested in me or just waiting for something better to walk by??
Um, well...I've never been called a "minx" before. I'll take that as a good sign.
"This guy has future all-star written all over him."
As the night wore on, my friends decided to hang 'em up since the talent pool had diminished significantly. In the other room, the Lawyer became increasingly drunk. Strangely enough, I was sober from the alcohol, but drunk on the attention. Soon, the Lawyer was sitting on a stool with his arms around my waist (yay!! for my sexy, hot, fuzzy sweater!)
"So, I'm 32. How old are you?"
"I'm 40." I answered, backing away a bit to see his reaction.
"That's great. I love older women. I always go out with older women."
"Oooh, hit by the pitch! That's gonna leave a mark."
The evening went downhill from there. It was pretty clear to me that the Lawyer wasn't so much looking to begin a relationship as he was trying to jump-start a booty call.
As a veteran of the game, I know the importance of a good nights' sleep, so I jumped in a cab - alone- and wrote off the evening as good practice for what could be a very exciting season.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Don't bet on it
My volleyball team played last night, as they do every Wednesday evening. I'm considering my team participation an additional workout every week and so far its been lots of fun, if not terribly successful (we kinda suck.)
Besides the usual banter on the court, there is usually at least a round of beer and pizza following the game (okay, sometimes BEFORE the game), so it's a nice addition to my somewhat limited social engagements.
My team is made up mostly of single people between the ages of 21-mid 40s and there are eight of us, including one married couple. Two of the single guys (40-somethings) often bemoan their unattached status, so the rest of us try to hook them up. So far, no luck.
One guy (I'll call him Lion King) is always very complimentary on the court ("nice shot") and he does a lot of volunteer work. A very nice guy. He recently broke up with an evil bitch who cheated on him with one of his friends. Surprisingly enough, he's not bitter about it and eager to meet someone new.
I know what you're thinking....why doesn't The Writer flirt with him a bit and see if he's interested??
Two reasons:
1) He smokes, and
2) He's a St. Louis Cardinals fan.
Last night, the post-game conversation turned to baseball and yours truly opened with comments about the Cubs' off-season acquisitions.
Juan Pierre: great.
Jacques Jones: not so much.
Lion King countered with praise for the rat-bastard Cardinals' moves. (okay, he didn't call them rat-bastard. I did.)
He offered to bet me that his team will finish with a better regular season record than my Cubs. Oh, now you're in trouble! Fine, you want to bet me?? Sure, I'll take that bet!
I'm thinking about how much money I would be willing to take from him without seeming greedy. I'm sure I could use an extra $25 or $50 come October.
Lion King says, "Let's bet dinner at a nice restaurant. Loser pays."
Um....what?
Besides the usual banter on the court, there is usually at least a round of beer and pizza following the game (okay, sometimes BEFORE the game), so it's a nice addition to my somewhat limited social engagements.
My team is made up mostly of single people between the ages of 21-mid 40s and there are eight of us, including one married couple. Two of the single guys (40-somethings) often bemoan their unattached status, so the rest of us try to hook them up. So far, no luck.
One guy (I'll call him Lion King) is always very complimentary on the court ("nice shot") and he does a lot of volunteer work. A very nice guy. He recently broke up with an evil bitch who cheated on him with one of his friends. Surprisingly enough, he's not bitter about it and eager to meet someone new.
I know what you're thinking....why doesn't The Writer flirt with him a bit and see if he's interested??
Two reasons:
1) He smokes, and
2) He's a St. Louis Cardinals fan.
Last night, the post-game conversation turned to baseball and yours truly opened with comments about the Cubs' off-season acquisitions.
Juan Pierre: great.
Jacques Jones: not so much.
Lion King countered with praise for the rat-bastard Cardinals' moves. (okay, he didn't call them rat-bastard. I did.)
He offered to bet me that his team will finish with a better regular season record than my Cubs. Oh, now you're in trouble! Fine, you want to bet me?? Sure, I'll take that bet!
I'm thinking about how much money I would be willing to take from him without seeming greedy. I'm sure I could use an extra $25 or $50 come October.
Lion King says, "Let's bet dinner at a nice restaurant. Loser pays."
Um....what?
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Remodeling plan III: the destruction
I couldn't decide if I should look inside my bedroom while it's under construction, but since I really hate surprises, I had to peek.
Inside I saw a bare cement floor where once had been dingy gray carpeting. A long trench had been cut into the wall to hide the electrical line running from an outlet to my closet. (I still shake my head at my stupidity for allowing that cheap-ass electrician to leave the wire outside the wall, claiming that he couldn't get into the wall.)
The look I'm going for is "beach house." Wood floor and light walls make me think of summer, sun, ocean...all the things I don't have in winter in Chicago.
In three distinct blotches, I had painted varying hues of yellow named, curiously enough Confident, Decisive and Cheerful. The time was quickly approaching when I had to make my color choice.
Confident did not inspire confidence. It looked too much like mustard.
Decisive is nice, but I can't decide.
Cheerful caught my eye originally, but once I put it on the wall, it looked a bit orange. And "cheerful" isn't exactly the mood I want in a bedroom.
Does Sherwin Williams sell a color called "come-up-for-air-in-three-days sex?"
Speaking of my bed, it's become a queen-sized, pillow-topped island in the middle of my living room. Funny how a change in scenery can disrupt a relatively normal bodily function like sleep. I've had a lot of trouble sleeping there this week. Is there anything in the feng shui rules about having my bed face a 27-inch TV?
Inside I saw a bare cement floor where once had been dingy gray carpeting. A long trench had been cut into the wall to hide the electrical line running from an outlet to my closet. (I still shake my head at my stupidity for allowing that cheap-ass electrician to leave the wire outside the wall, claiming that he couldn't get into the wall.)
The look I'm going for is "beach house." Wood floor and light walls make me think of summer, sun, ocean...all the things I don't have in winter in Chicago.
In three distinct blotches, I had painted varying hues of yellow named, curiously enough Confident, Decisive and Cheerful. The time was quickly approaching when I had to make my color choice.
Confident did not inspire confidence. It looked too much like mustard.
Decisive is nice, but I can't decide.
Cheerful caught my eye originally, but once I put it on the wall, it looked a bit orange. And "cheerful" isn't exactly the mood I want in a bedroom.
Does Sherwin Williams sell a color called "come-up-for-air-in-three-days sex?"
Speaking of my bed, it's become a queen-sized, pillow-topped island in the middle of my living room. Funny how a change in scenery can disrupt a relatively normal bodily function like sleep. I've had a lot of trouble sleeping there this week. Is there anything in the feng shui rules about having my bed face a 27-inch TV?
Monday, February 13, 2006
Respect...who gets it and who wants it
CNN has just broadcast the World Series champion White Sox team press conference with President Bush at the White House. Funny thing is, brand-new U.S. citizen and Sox manager Ozzie Guillen chose to stay on vacation with his family and not attend the ceremony.
Another player was on his honeymoon and a third was being feted in his native Japan. Apparently, only 23 of the invited 30 White Sox players chose to attend the festivities.
Respect.
Bush congratulated everyone from the trainers to the announcers (with a playful slam at Ed Farmer, announcer and former White sox pitcher) to Harold Baines, one of the Sox coaches and a former White Sox outfielder.
Bush thanked Harold Baines for always bringing class to the ballpark. Eventually, the president got around to congratulating the actual TEAM.
Respect.
Then CNN cut back to its announcer and she could not name a SINGLE White Sox player. After consulting with the 20 men in her control room, FINALLY her director named Jermaine Dye and Paul Konerko.
Respect.
Pitchers and catchers report to Spring Training on Wednesday!
Another player was on his honeymoon and a third was being feted in his native Japan. Apparently, only 23 of the invited 30 White Sox players chose to attend the festivities.
Respect.
Bush congratulated everyone from the trainers to the announcers (with a playful slam at Ed Farmer, announcer and former White sox pitcher) to Harold Baines, one of the Sox coaches and a former White Sox outfielder.
Bush thanked Harold Baines for always bringing class to the ballpark. Eventually, the president got around to congratulating the actual TEAM.
Respect.
Then CNN cut back to its announcer and she could not name a SINGLE White Sox player. After consulting with the 20 men in her control room, FINALLY her director named Jermaine Dye and Paul Konerko.
Respect.
Pitchers and catchers report to Spring Training on Wednesday!
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Stirrups but no cowboy
So there I am at my gyno's office for my 'poke n' prod.' This is my first appointment with him since I spotted him at my gym. Is he going to mention it? And if he does, will he be able to resuscitate me when I faint from embarassment??
Since I haven't been his patient for too long, there has never been a "full exam" in his office...till now.
Exactly how do you have a friendly conversation with a cute, single man whose hands are on your breasts and one of you has entirely too many clothes on??? Apparently, you keep the topic to purely medical things.
He's not a sports fan (we'd already established this), but we did a bit of banter on the Super Bowl while he gave me a pelvic. Oh yay!
So far, so good.
He asked about my plans for Spring Training and I explained that Firecracker and I have everything all set. Although he's not a sports fan, he does love to go to games at Wrigley Field. (Oh great! Another place to run into him.)
At the end of the appointment, he mentioned that if all of the tests are normal, I can go back to my yearly appointments instead of the half-yearly ones we've been having the last 18 months or so.
"Yep, seeing each other every six months, people could begin to talk," I joked. He laughed!
"Well, guess I'll see you next year," I said, anticipating normal test results.
"Actually, you might see me more often than that. You work out at that Multiplex, right?"
I tried to act surprised as I looked into his huge cornflower blue eyes, "Um, yeah."
"Yeah, I've seen you there."
OMG, does this mean I have to talk to him when I see him at the gym?!?! Are we going to be workout buddies or something?!?!?
Since I haven't been his patient for too long, there has never been a "full exam" in his office...till now.
Exactly how do you have a friendly conversation with a cute, single man whose hands are on your breasts and one of you has entirely too many clothes on??? Apparently, you keep the topic to purely medical things.
He's not a sports fan (we'd already established this), but we did a bit of banter on the Super Bowl while he gave me a pelvic. Oh yay!
So far, so good.
He asked about my plans for Spring Training and I explained that Firecracker and I have everything all set. Although he's not a sports fan, he does love to go to games at Wrigley Field. (Oh great! Another place to run into him.)
At the end of the appointment, he mentioned that if all of the tests are normal, I can go back to my yearly appointments instead of the half-yearly ones we've been having the last 18 months or so.
"Yep, seeing each other every six months, people could begin to talk," I joked. He laughed!
"Well, guess I'll see you next year," I said, anticipating normal test results.
"Actually, you might see me more often than that. You work out at that Multiplex, right?"
I tried to act surprised as I looked into his huge cornflower blue eyes, "Um, yeah."
"Yeah, I've seen you there."
OMG, does this mean I have to talk to him when I see him at the gym?!?! Are we going to be workout buddies or something?!?!?
Monday, February 06, 2006
Beer, chili, football and lip gloss
Like I always say, if you're not tired on Monday, you didn't have a good weekend...
Action Girl and J graciously hosted a Super Bowl party in their fabulous newly finished basement with tons of food and drink and wonderfully fun and interesting people. Of course, I parked my keister on the front-row-for-football-action sofa and watched the game.
In a scene that told more about today's women than any article I've read lately, the sofa was entirely populated by WOMEN!! And we were watching the game! Understanding and enjoying the football game! Firecracker, Cat and other women joined the party (okay, there were guys there too) and we had a great time, chowing down chili and sipping beers. A regular guys' night out.
What were the guys doing while the game was on?? Mostly throwing darts and drinking shots. Maybe their lack of interest was due to the fact that most of the guys were not American, but I'm not sure.
Yes, the emotional girly side of us did emerge during some of the commercial breaks, especially during one Budweiser commercial (what is it with the beer companies that they usually have the BEST commercials??).
For me, it was the Bud commercial with the baby Clysdale trying to pull the beer cart. (I won't tell you how it turns out, in case you haven't seen it.)
And props!! to Dove Soap for making a thoughtful ad about a serious subject (the body image difficulties faced by young girls). Maybe they knew about the population of our sofa??
Oh, and Pittsburgh won what turned out to be a pretty lackluster Super Bowl game. The highlight for me was local boy Antwaan Randle El serving up that touchdown pass on the reverse to seal the Seahawks' coffin. Guess it's no surprise that he was a quarterback in high school and college.
So that was then, this is now.
My Monday will come to a close with a check-up appointment with my doctor. Yep, this will be the first meeting since I saw him at my gym. If he mentions it, I think I'll just pass out (that's the only girly thing to do, right?)
Action Girl and J graciously hosted a Super Bowl party in their fabulous newly finished basement with tons of food and drink and wonderfully fun and interesting people. Of course, I parked my keister on the front-row-for-football-action sofa and watched the game.
In a scene that told more about today's women than any article I've read lately, the sofa was entirely populated by WOMEN!! And we were watching the game! Understanding and enjoying the football game! Firecracker, Cat and other women joined the party (okay, there were guys there too) and we had a great time, chowing down chili and sipping beers. A regular guys' night out.
What were the guys doing while the game was on?? Mostly throwing darts and drinking shots. Maybe their lack of interest was due to the fact that most of the guys were not American, but I'm not sure.
Yes, the emotional girly side of us did emerge during some of the commercial breaks, especially during one Budweiser commercial (what is it with the beer companies that they usually have the BEST commercials??).
For me, it was the Bud commercial with the baby Clysdale trying to pull the beer cart. (I won't tell you how it turns out, in case you haven't seen it.)
And props!! to Dove Soap for making a thoughtful ad about a serious subject (the body image difficulties faced by young girls). Maybe they knew about the population of our sofa??
Oh, and Pittsburgh won what turned out to be a pretty lackluster Super Bowl game. The highlight for me was local boy Antwaan Randle El serving up that touchdown pass on the reverse to seal the Seahawks' coffin. Guess it's no surprise that he was a quarterback in high school and college.
So that was then, this is now.
My Monday will come to a close with a check-up appointment with my doctor. Yep, this will be the first meeting since I saw him at my gym. If he mentions it, I think I'll just pass out (that's the only girly thing to do, right?)
Thursday, February 02, 2006
A date
How many cups of coffee can I drink before I get the shakes??
That's the question of the day as I struggle to keep my eyes open after a 9:30 volleyball game last night. We lost, but I played pretty well but definitely have room for improvement. Turns out, we have at least 3 games scheduled for 9:30 this season. Geez! Who did we piss off??
Volleyball was last night, but I was already tired from a late night the evening prior. And, no, it wasn't anything fun. I attended a committee meeting that ended around 11 pm (and it was held about 40 minutes from home). When I got home, I beat my head against the wall for a few minutes to knock out the residual frustration from the meeting.
This committe organizes an auction that takes place during a charity event for a local non-profit group. Problem is, the committee is chaired by a chick who is either a) bi-polar, or b) an idiot, or c) both.
In one conversation, she argued two completely different opinions - -both of them hers! I can't help but shake my head as I remember some of our discussions
So, after all of this craziness, what's in store for me tonight? Tonight I have a date, sort of.
Actually, my ass has a date with my sofa! Is 7 pm too early to put on my pajamas??
That's the question of the day as I struggle to keep my eyes open after a 9:30 volleyball game last night. We lost, but I played pretty well but definitely have room for improvement. Turns out, we have at least 3 games scheduled for 9:30 this season. Geez! Who did we piss off??
Volleyball was last night, but I was already tired from a late night the evening prior. And, no, it wasn't anything fun. I attended a committee meeting that ended around 11 pm (and it was held about 40 minutes from home). When I got home, I beat my head against the wall for a few minutes to knock out the residual frustration from the meeting.
This committe organizes an auction that takes place during a charity event for a local non-profit group. Problem is, the committee is chaired by a chick who is either a) bi-polar, or b) an idiot, or c) both.
In one conversation, she argued two completely different opinions - -both of them hers! I can't help but shake my head as I remember some of our discussions
So, after all of this craziness, what's in store for me tonight? Tonight I have a date, sort of.
Actually, my ass has a date with my sofa! Is 7 pm too early to put on my pajamas??
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Is it spring yet??
Pitchers and catchers report to Spring Training two weeks from today.
Me and Firecracker report on March 3!
Yay!
Me and Firecracker report on March 3!
Yay!
Monday, January 30, 2006
No map required
There's something to be said for feeling like a local...especially when you're not. For me, my vacations are not considered 'successful' until I know my surroundings, when I feel comfortable walking around without a map. My shining moment in Australia came when I was strolling down a side street in the Rocks neighborhood in Sydney and a woman stopped me to ask for directions.
Me?!?! The little tourist girl from Chicago??? And YES!!! I was able to tell her how to get to the hotel she was trying to find. I was pretty proud of myself and felt even more comfortable in my "home away from home" that is Australia.
How strange is it that a city on the other side of the planet feels more like home to me than one just 2 hours' flight away?
By the time Firecracker and I left New York last weekend, I had a small measure of comfort in knowing my way around. I mean, terms like "Upper West Side" and "the Village" held meaning for me, a significant difference from the week before.
But it wasn't until I was watching an old episode of "Sex & the City" that I realized that New York isn't as foreign to me as it had once been. Carrie Bradshaw was having an affair with a married Mr. Big and they had a rendezvous at a trashy hotel. Carrie figured that their anonymity was assured since no one would know them down there (at 58th and 7th).
AND I RECOGNIZED THE LOCATION!
Okay, I didn't know exactly which hotel they were talking about, but I had to smile because I knew that 58th and 7th is near Times Square.
Small world.
And I'm getting to know more and more of it all the time.
Me?!?! The little tourist girl from Chicago??? And YES!!! I was able to tell her how to get to the hotel she was trying to find. I was pretty proud of myself and felt even more comfortable in my "home away from home" that is Australia.
How strange is it that a city on the other side of the planet feels more like home to me than one just 2 hours' flight away?
By the time Firecracker and I left New York last weekend, I had a small measure of comfort in knowing my way around. I mean, terms like "Upper West Side" and "the Village" held meaning for me, a significant difference from the week before.
But it wasn't until I was watching an old episode of "Sex & the City" that I realized that New York isn't as foreign to me as it had once been. Carrie Bradshaw was having an affair with a married Mr. Big and they had a rendezvous at a trashy hotel. Carrie figured that their anonymity was assured since no one would know them down there (at 58th and 7th).
AND I RECOGNIZED THE LOCATION!
Okay, I didn't know exactly which hotel they were talking about, but I had to smile because I knew that 58th and 7th is near Times Square.
Small world.
And I'm getting to know more and more of it all the time.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Taking a bite out of the Big Apple
After a short, but much-needed snooze, I awoke blurry eyed and looked out the window to see water and an emerging skyline. Sydney!! My heart started to race and I rubbed my eyes and looked for the icons of the Australian city, the Opera House and the Bridge. Confused, I didn't recognize any buildings and as I slowly became more awake, I realized my flight had not carried me around the world, but just across to the East Coast and it was New York's skyline outside my window.
That was my first and last moment of disappointment during my weekend in New York with Firecracker.
Escargot (thanks to Firecracker for introducing me to new gourmet opportunity), champagne, French food and friendly waves, honks and smiles from random New York men got the weekend off to a rousing start.
New and wonderful foods - - check!
After a Saturday morning breakfast of carbs and Starbucks, we wrestled through the Times Square crowds (damned tourists!!!) to the Times Square info booth where we purchased matinee tickets to "Avenue Q," billed as an adult Sesame Street. Hmmn?!?!
Tickets to Broadway show - - check!
Central Park was next on our list for Saturday afternoon activities. We strolled over hills and past picturesque ponds, stopping at a carousel to sip our teas and soak in the atmosphere that most locals probably take for granted.
Although the weather was cooperating, time was not. Our matinee time was approaching - - not quickly- - but we didn't want to rush our excursion back to the hotel. So, at 76th Street we said goodbye to Central Park and turned onto Central Park West for the trip "home."
Paramount Pictures was working on some movie scenes on the West Side so we stopped to gape, but since we didn't recognize any movie stars, we kept walking. Past Tavern on the Green, through Columbus Circle (resisting the opportunity to stop and shop), and past a long line of wannabees waiting in the cold for a chance to be the next "Top Model."
In a very Carrie Bradshow-ish move, I wore only 3-inch heels during my stay in the Big Apple (and my lower back and calves are screaming at me for it)!
Spend a beautiful Saturday afternoon in Central Park, looking as stylish as possible - - check!
Felt-faced characters with human arms shoved up their rumps sang songs about racism and homosexuality and actually "got it on" at one point during "Avenue Q." What a unique, funny and bizarre show made that much better by the drinks we had before the show started.
My favorite characters were the Bad Idea Bears. When you don't have much money, but buy a case of beer instead of paying the phone bill - - blame the Bad Idea Bears. I'm all over that!!! Where were these guys when I was getting married?!?! That was TOTALLY their idea!
But I digress...
After the show, Firecracker and I did a bit of unsuccessful shopping and headed back to the hotel empty-handed. Exhausted from the hike in Central Park and the show, Firecracker started to doze off.
NO!!!!!! It was my last night in New York (I said rather dramatically, as if I were a lifelong Manhattanite being exiled to Kansas City!) She stirred and soon we were making our way to a quaint little Italian restaurant not too far away.
Four courses of Italian food with wine accompaniments and music from a three-piece jazz band rekindled our adventurous spirit. Add to that the plan to join Firecracker's second-cousin and his roommate for drinks and we were ready to rock.
Firecracker and I were treated to probably the best evening either of us have had in months! And I DO mean treated! Wonderful gentlemen that they are, Cuz'n and his roommate paid for taxis, cover charges and drinks all evening! We had to argue with them to be allowed to buy a round! Too bad they were 1) family, and 2) in their mid 20s!
At one point in the evening, I was approached by a short, curly-haired guy who wanted to ask us some questions. Apparently, he was representing two unseen friends who wanted to dance with us. The deal, as offered, was that if I answered the questions correctly, the mystery friends would buy us a drink. If not, we had to dance with them for three songs.
How's YOUR math? Um, ONE drink or THREE dances?!?!? I don't think so (I may have been drinking, but I'm not stupid.) My curiousity got the best of me and I had to know the questions.
Dead brain cells prevent me from remembering the first question (which I guess I actually got right), but the second one was "What's the capital of Montana?"
"Helena."
"Um, okay. I have a tissue in my pocket and if I fold it up, how many times can I fold it?
"Well, if it's square, I think you can only fold it eight times."
Since we didn't technically have a deal, I got screwed out of a free drink. Yeah, whatever. I smiled, shook my head and walked by to our gang.
Totally inappropriate guys trying to pick us up - - check!
The taxi dropped us off at our hotel and both Firecracker and I were shocked to discover that was 4:15 in the blessed AM!?!?!? And we were both flying home later that day!
Clubbing till all hours in Greenwich Village - - check!
I'll have to get to work on a new list of "Things to Do" for the next trip - - Arizona!!! for Spring Training in 39 days!!!
That was my first and last moment of disappointment during my weekend in New York with Firecracker.
Escargot (thanks to Firecracker for introducing me to new gourmet opportunity), champagne, French food and friendly waves, honks and smiles from random New York men got the weekend off to a rousing start.
New and wonderful foods - - check!
After a Saturday morning breakfast of carbs and Starbucks, we wrestled through the Times Square crowds (damned tourists!!!) to the Times Square info booth where we purchased matinee tickets to "Avenue Q," billed as an adult Sesame Street. Hmmn?!?!
Tickets to Broadway show - - check!
Central Park was next on our list for Saturday afternoon activities. We strolled over hills and past picturesque ponds, stopping at a carousel to sip our teas and soak in the atmosphere that most locals probably take for granted.
Although the weather was cooperating, time was not. Our matinee time was approaching - - not quickly- - but we didn't want to rush our excursion back to the hotel. So, at 76th Street we said goodbye to Central Park and turned onto Central Park West for the trip "home."
Paramount Pictures was working on some movie scenes on the West Side so we stopped to gape, but since we didn't recognize any movie stars, we kept walking. Past Tavern on the Green, through Columbus Circle (resisting the opportunity to stop and shop), and past a long line of wannabees waiting in the cold for a chance to be the next "Top Model."
In a very Carrie Bradshow-ish move, I wore only 3-inch heels during my stay in the Big Apple (and my lower back and calves are screaming at me for it)!
Spend a beautiful Saturday afternoon in Central Park, looking as stylish as possible - - check!
Felt-faced characters with human arms shoved up their rumps sang songs about racism and homosexuality and actually "got it on" at one point during "Avenue Q." What a unique, funny and bizarre show made that much better by the drinks we had before the show started.
My favorite characters were the Bad Idea Bears. When you don't have much money, but buy a case of beer instead of paying the phone bill - - blame the Bad Idea Bears. I'm all over that!!! Where were these guys when I was getting married?!?! That was TOTALLY their idea!
But I digress...
After the show, Firecracker and I did a bit of unsuccessful shopping and headed back to the hotel empty-handed. Exhausted from the hike in Central Park and the show, Firecracker started to doze off.
NO!!!!!! It was my last night in New York (I said rather dramatically, as if I were a lifelong Manhattanite being exiled to Kansas City!) She stirred and soon we were making our way to a quaint little Italian restaurant not too far away.
Four courses of Italian food with wine accompaniments and music from a three-piece jazz band rekindled our adventurous spirit. Add to that the plan to join Firecracker's second-cousin and his roommate for drinks and we were ready to rock.
Firecracker and I were treated to probably the best evening either of us have had in months! And I DO mean treated! Wonderful gentlemen that they are, Cuz'n and his roommate paid for taxis, cover charges and drinks all evening! We had to argue with them to be allowed to buy a round! Too bad they were 1) family, and 2) in their mid 20s!
At one point in the evening, I was approached by a short, curly-haired guy who wanted to ask us some questions. Apparently, he was representing two unseen friends who wanted to dance with us. The deal, as offered, was that if I answered the questions correctly, the mystery friends would buy us a drink. If not, we had to dance with them for three songs.
How's YOUR math? Um, ONE drink or THREE dances?!?!? I don't think so (I may have been drinking, but I'm not stupid.) My curiousity got the best of me and I had to know the questions.
Dead brain cells prevent me from remembering the first question (which I guess I actually got right), but the second one was "What's the capital of Montana?"
"Helena."
"Um, okay. I have a tissue in my pocket and if I fold it up, how many times can I fold it?
"Well, if it's square, I think you can only fold it eight times."
Since we didn't technically have a deal, I got screwed out of a free drink. Yeah, whatever. I smiled, shook my head and walked by to our gang.
Totally inappropriate guys trying to pick us up - - check!
The taxi dropped us off at our hotel and both Firecracker and I were shocked to discover that was 4:15 in the blessed AM!?!?!? And we were both flying home later that day!
Clubbing till all hours in Greenwich Village - - check!
I'll have to get to work on a new list of "Things to Do" for the next trip - - Arizona!!! for Spring Training in 39 days!!!
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