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.

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.

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...

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 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!

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?

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!!!

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!!

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!!

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.

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.

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!"

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?

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.

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??

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.

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!

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.

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).

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."