Ivy Dreams

Please Don't Wake Me

2006-07-15T22:14:00.000-05:00

I seriously have no idea where to start. The writing bug has bitten again, but there's really too much to say. In the six months since I've written, my life has completely changed. Actually, it's all happened in the last six weeks. I declared this the Year of the Move and for once in my life I came through.

For those of you who know me as Charlie Brown, I don't know what to tell you. That girl is gone. Well, the bad luck seems to be gone, and this fantastic new life has taken over. But honestly I'm scared that my real life will strike back, that my luck will run out. Once you've been cursed for so long, it's hard to just accept that things can be good. Maybe this is how Red Sox fans feel. As a Cubs fan, I guess I'll never know.

I haven't wanted to write too much about how well things are going out of fear of jinxing the whole thing. I was also afraid it would seem that I was bragging. (Yes, things are that good.) But I don't have cell phone service where I am, and there are too many people who need updates. So I'll try to start from the beginning and give some updates. I just hope this isn't like talking about a no-hitter in the 8th inning.

St. Valentine's Day Massacre - The story of a 27 year old Spinster

2006-02-14T00:09:00.000-06:00

Don't be afraid. I'm not planning anything sinster for this unholy day. But this year has gotten me more in a tizzy than years past. Christmas and Valentine's Day are really too close together for singletons. It's almost too much to bear. There really should be some extra time for recovery between the two. I don't know why this year is so bad. Maybe it's that I'm getting older or that all my friends are engaged or married. Maybe it's that I haven't dated someone on VDay since 1995. Maybe I'm just pissed that this one horse town makes you accept spinsterhood at 27. I'm not sure but I don't like what this fake holiday is bringing out in me.

Sunday I tried to unwind from a stressful weekend with some mindless movies. Mistake. The movies are all about love and crap like that, and the commericials are all about ordering flowers and going on dates. I was so mad at how much I let this get to me that I had to order a mandatory boycot of TV until Wednesday. This may not sound like much, but I'm a TV gal. When you don't have a life, you live it through your favorite shows. But enough was enough.

While I was trying to recover from crying over a Lifetime movie, I decided to call my single friends to plan something for VDay. Uh oh. I don't have any single friends. I scrolled through my phone to make sure. Nope, not a one. This is just getting worse and worse.

Work wasn't much help. People started getting flowers, and as the receptionist, a position already full of dignity, I am the one who has to receive and distribute these deliveries of love. Gross. One of my students told me Champps was having an anti-VDay party. Intriguing. I tried to get some of the singles at work to bite. Nothing. Hmph. Then my boss told me that I was working too many jobs and just needed to get a life...and a man. Oh holy shit. By this point, I'm truly on the edge.

I played on match.com today, like millions apparently do this week. No luck. More rejection. I've really started to sink low. I watched West Wing DVDs but decided to save some for tomorrow night. DVDs aren't TV. No sappy commercials. And I'll need to do something while I'm hanging out staring at the dead flowers I refuse to throw out of my apartment. See, now I've gotten morbid about the whole thing.

And here's the best part: I have taken off work tomorrow to work an odd job for some extra cash. The job: DELIVERING VALENTINE'S FLOWERS FOR A FLORIST! That's right, the girl who has never had flowers delivered to her will be spreading her VDay joy to all the women in Baton Rouge who don't deserve the flowers they get or the men sending them. Oh sweet irony. Maybe they should have done some personality screening. Could flower delivery girls be the next postal workers? I'll tell you after tomorrow.

But my love isn't completely in vain. I have Mike the Dog, the boys on West Wing, and my Cubbies to be my valentines. Sure, none of them actually return my love. But it's better than nothing. And I'll be able to see the joy my flowers bring to all those lucky ladies. Um, yeah.

All My Rowdy Friends Have Settled Down

2006-01-16T08:04:00.000-06:00

OK, so none of my friends were every very rowdy, but they have surely all settled down. First, my group of friends consists of all guys and me. We all went to the same elementary school, high school, and college. So we were pretty tight. And just a few years ago, we were all single. Then a couple of them started moving away. That's where it all started. After that, one by one they all found girlfriends. Now they are all either married or engaged. And I'm stuck here in the Big BR with very few of my friends left and no singles to speak of. When my friends are in town, of course the wives are here too. That's fine, but I didn't get to pick these additions to the group. I've never been friends with many girls. Now, I've adopted a whole set of them.

I think the real problem is Baton Rouge. This place has no single life. By 25, you either move away or get married. If you don't choose one of those options, you are pretty much left for dead. In my case, you see the term "spinster" in your near future. I'm pretty sure that's not how it works in other places. That's probably because other cities are places to go after college. BR is a place to go to college and leave when you're done. Granted, it's a pretty decent place to raise kids. So the only people who stay are those who are ready to set up a happy home. Um, if you haven't met me, I'll just tell you that's not me.

I'm looking for a lot more out of my city. I need culture, night activity without college punks, other singles, people who think and feel deeply about at least one thing, and sports. Sure, Baton Rouge has LSU. And I love LSU sports more than most do. But I need a city that's a great sports town more than 7 nights a year. And even then, tailgaters are either college kids or married people with fancy setups. I never thought that I'd feel out of place at Tiger Stadium but I'm starting to.

So I declare this The Year of the Move. Armed with my new computer, I will begin the search for jobs, apartments, and even friends. I started up with match.com again the other day. I had planned on trying it in Chicago for a month, but decided to cancel before the trial period was over. When you don't have much of a life, stuff like that can be addictive. Like drinking alone, you're just asking for trouble. I did meet a couple of people this week. Maybe I've made some friends to catch games with. That would be nice.

Anyway, I have a rough 6 months ahead of me. I have to save money, make money to save, lose weight, send out resumes like a mad person, and blog to try to make something out of myself. Of course, the MLBlog is the one that I'm trying to use to do that. This one will take you through the adventures of dreaming that I can have a different life.

21st century / 20th century

2006-01-12T18:53:00.000-06:00

I have now entered the land of the living. For the first time in my adult life, I have a computer at home. The Internet doesn’t come until tomorrow. That’s a little faster than the original evolution of home computer to Internet. Anyway, right now I feel a little like a kid playing on my dad’s computer. I guess that’s because the only thing I can really do tonight is type.

Do you remember how cool it felt to type when you were little? Typing anything was so grown up, even jibberish. I suppose jibberish is all I really type now, but at least people can read it. They won’t read it but they could if they wanted to.

So I’m starting off my new year a little late. This is supposed to be my year of writing. I’ll be writing my MLBlog to try and make something of myself; writing resumes and cover letters to try to get out of this crazy town; and here I’ll be writing whatever else pops into my crazy head. Don’t worry that no on reads my stuff. I read it out loud to myself. I think that counts for two readers. Actually, I think my readership may have doubled, even tripled. LumberJill now has the company of at least LennonLover and SmokinMom.

Now that I have a computer, I’ll be writing regularly. For real this time. I have some great stories to tell about a new year of black cats and curses.
Teaser: I’ve already nearly blinded myself with the sun visor in my car. And it’s only the 11th. Black cat sightings: 3.

Freedom, oh freedom, well that's just some people talking...

2005-11-21T15:10:00.000-06:00

I'm a wimp. I've decided to take the easy way out. I know that the fact that more and more of my posts were becoming about baseball was not received well by my reader(s). It's not that there haven't been any more stories about my cursed existence and purses, but like Willie Nelson sings it, "Baseball was always on mind." OK, so Willie probably wasn't singing about baseball, but you get my drift. Since I’m obviously not talented or creative enough to appeal to any sort of audience, I had to go in a different direction.

So, in an effort to keep this blog about the non-baseball side of my life (assuming there is such a thing), I've decided to start a new blog on MLB.com. That way I have an outlet for my baseball rantings, and you don't have to be subjected to them. So consider yourselves free, um, mostly free. I’m sure I won’t be able to escape baseball subjects creeping into my everyday life experiences. Especially when it comes to the parallel curses placed on both the Cubs and me.

Nothing too outrageous has happened lately. I thought for a while that Hurricane Katrina had killed blog. None of my blogger friends have written much since then either. I think it's just that Katrina has changed things around here. People are busier at work (and we all know that everyone blogs at work); our minds have been on more serious matters; for a while there, going to the grocery store or gas station meant full battle armor; and traffic has gotten so bad that I'm still trying to get where I am now. I think for the rest of my life I will break into hives when I hear the phrase "hunker down".

The parents just got back from New York City. My cousin's wife won a contest on the Tony Danza Show. They got to bring 24 of their friends and family to NYC to meet Tony. I saw them on his show Thursday. They'll be on again this Wednesday. Once they get me some pictures, I'll post the funny ones. There are bound to be funny ones.Oh, Mike the Dog was a hit at the LSU Trick-or-Treat last month. Tell me he isn't the funniest Darth Vader ever.

Other crazy occurrences besides my parents being on the Tony Danza show and humiliating my dog: I applied to be a flight attendant; I’ve won a few beer pong matches; I have been cat-sitting for a killer attack cat; two of my friends got engaged; and I actually attended a baby shower;.

That should pretty much catch you up on me. I still have to write about my trip to Chicago. More to come on that soon. So keep checking in for updates. Now that I have the baseball monkey off my back, I should be able to write more often. If you want to hear my rantings on baseball, you can check out the new MLBlog that I started. I’m working with a guy at MLB.com to help him get more Cubs bloggers, so I should be writing there pretty frequently. As always, thanks for listening. And today I’ll leave you with some “Truths”.

Things I actually know:

1. Aaron Sorkin is one of the best TV writers of our time.
After recently becoming addicted to West Wing, I decided to buy the two seasons of Sports night. Well worth it.

2. To be a flight attendant, you must be shorter than 6’4” but able to reach 89” without standing on your tippy toes.
Finally, something I’m qualified to do.

3.USC’s football team has a deal with the devil.
Every time I think they’ll bring joy to millions by losing, they find a way to come back and spoil the end of another football Saturday.

Back in Blue

2005-11-01T20:42:00.000-06:00

I arrived at work Monday morning to very good news. The Cubs have picked up the option on Todd Walker. He will be a Cub for at least one more year. This may not have even registered on the radars of many fans, but it brought a lot of joy to this postseason deprived Louisianian.

When the Cubs let Mark Grace go at the end of his career, I wondered if I would be able to find a favorite player on the team. In fact, for a little while I wondered if I could ever really feel the same about a team that could overlook the loyalty and career numbers of a player who stayed with them during their long affair with futility. Grace was the reason I became a Cub fan, and it was hard to imagine the team without him.

Of course, I got over it, especially after Gracie was vindicated with a World Series championship the very year he left a team that continued on a 93 year championship drought. But as the season began, I was still searching for a hero. A Giants friend of mine told me the new Cub, and ex-Giant, Bill Mueller could be my guy. I didn't believe. But sure enough, I started to really get behind the clutch hitting, diving in the dirt kind of play of the new 3rd baseman. Just when Mueller was getting hot, he slid into the 3rd base wall at the late Busch Stadium and suffered a busted knee cap. The Cubs let him go before he could get back to 100%. Of course, he won the batting title the next year for the Red Sox.

Again, I needed a hero. When you pull for a team who constantly lets you down, it is imperative that you find one guy you can pull for individually even when you don't have much to root for in the complete team. Sammy Sosa? Please. By the 2000 season, I was over the whole magic of '98 thing. He had shown himself to be one of the worst clutch performers and biggest prima donnas in the game. No, I needed a new down and dirty infielder. I was about to get more than I hoped for.

One December evening in 2003, I was sitting at a bar waiting for friends to join me for a Christmas gift exchange and dinner. Before anyone else arrived, I received my gift. Watching ESPN on the TV over the bar, I couldn't believe what the ticker at the bottom of the screen had just told me. "Red Sox second baseman Todd Walker to Cubs." I jumped up and actually let out a scream.

Again, probably not much of a blip on the average Cub fan's radar. Sure, Walker had a decent season in Boston. He quietly led the team in most offensive categories, including setting a Red Sox record of five home runs in 12 games, in their upsetting playoff run. His stint in Boston was short, much like those in Minnesota, Colorado, and Cincinnati. I had followed him through all those teams, but my admiration for his play started much earlier.

Todd Walker was one of my favorite LSU players in the early '90s. After winning freshman of the year honors in 1992, he went on to break LSU and SEC records left and right. In his sophomore season, he was named the Outstanding Player of the College World Series while leading LSU to its second title in three years. After becoming the first Tiger to bat .400 for a season and earning his degree, he was the eighth overall draft pick by the Twins in 1994. Later, Baseball America would name him the best college second baseman of the modern era.

In all of LSU's success in the '90s, few of their players have gone on to long professional careers. It has been fun to see a player I had enjoyed so much as a Tiger go on to play for so many years. But nothing can match having that player on the team I love. Walker hasn't had quite the professional numbers that he had in college and his speed on the basepath has been a liability for a second baseman at times, but he plays hard, hits in the clutch, and maintains a humble disposition in the clubhouse. Last season he hit .305 for the Cubs. That's better than most of the team.

As much as I'm hopeful about next season (in T- 5 months, 2 days and counting), it probably won't be the drought-ending season we are all waiting for. Still, at least I'll have my guy. And who knows? Maybe my next guy is waiting in the wings to be the one who brings it home to the North Side.

On Deck

2005-10-27T07:26:00.000-05:00

2004 Red Sox - 86 years

2005 White Sox - 88 years

2006 Cub Sox - 98 years

Scary October

2005-10-21T18:33:00.000-05:00

Sitting exactly 918.9 miles away from Wrigley Field, I can feel the pain emanating from the North Side of Chicago. When the playoffs began, I knew there were no good scenarios for Cub fans. Of the eight teams, two were from the same division, another was from the same city. When only three were left, all three of those teams were still standing - the cross-town rival White Sox, the eternal divisional rival Cardinals, and the Astros, also divisional rivals and the team I despise more than any other in baseball. At that point, I knew there was no avoiding a season full of championship banners and smug fans.

As a Cub fan, it's hard to believe that the Cardinals losing could make things worse for me. But now,with a White Sox/Astros World Series, like those in Chicago who have to put up with Sox fans, I have to put up with a city and region full of Astros fans. In fact, I even have to put up with it at the office.

Two of my student workers are not only smug Astros fans, but also brave ones. One thought it hilarious to change my desktop to a picture of Steve Bart***, Moises Alou's glove, and a very unfortunate foul ball. The other wore an Astros hat and jersey the day after they won the NLCS. Even worse, he drank a celebratory bottle of sparkling cider in front of me. Now, these are people that I could fire, and yet they taunt me. Since Houston is the closest MLB city to Baton Rouge, I will have to deal with all of those who picked their baseball team based on who was the closest. Let me add that most of their fan gear is pretty new.

So I obviously can't pull for the Astros in the World Series but I can't really pull for the White Sox with a clean conscious. Part of me knows that the Sox are the best baseball story. Part of me thinks that the right thing to do for the karma of the Cubs is to pull for the White Sox to break an 88 year curse the year after the Red Sox broke one of 86 years. But part of me feels like a traitor seeking cheap thrills. One of the reasons people stay Cub fans is that they want to be able to say they stayed loyal through all the losing seasons. I don't want to hate myself in the morning.

I tried to explain this to the only White Sox fan I know, who happens to be the only White Sox fan I've ever seen outside of Chicago. He, of course, thinks I should pull for the Sox to bring a title back to Chicago and couldn't understand why I was having a problem with pledging even my temporary allegiance to his team. I asked if he pulled for the Cubs in the 2003 playoffs. He had to answer an honest "No". I asked if he openly pulled against the Cubs in the 2003 playoffs. He then said he understood. I don't want to be slapped with the label of "biSOXual", the new word sweeping Chicago, especially when I know Sox fans would never return the favor and pull for the Cubs to do anything besides get hit by a bus.

I could just skip the World Series, but that wouldn't mean I would be able to escape the results during a long winter and either six or eighteen very painful games next season. Besides, it's nearly six months until the ever desired "Next Year". No, I'm sure I'll watch the World Series. This year, though, I have a feeling it will be through the fingers covering my face like during a horror movie when I know something bad is about to happen. And either way, something bad most definitely is about to happen. But I still have to watch.

Still no time to write...

2005-09-06T17:02:00.000-05:00

Well, maybe I have the time but I definitely don't have the energy. If you would like information on Katrina, please see my friend's website (www.joshbritton.com). He has great information on what has been happening, including much on volunteering in the area.

I have been trying to get my thoughts down on paper but was told that was "so 19th century" by one of my student workers. Um, I don't think they had vinyl-covered 5 Star notebooks in the 19th century. So there. Punk kids. Anyway, one day I will transfer some of my experiences from the scraggly, torn-out pages of my 5 Star (ok, it's a knockoff 5 Star). More to come any day now.

Until then, take care, volunteer, and hope.

2005-08-15T19:21:00.000-05:00

A big thank you to the St. Louis Cardinals for making the last few days bearable. Of course, I don't know why the Cubs insist on doing things the hard way. How can you get swept by the Mets and Reds back to back and then take 3 0f 4 from the best team in the NL. I've stopped trying to figure them out. I have not, however, given up hope - even though every fiber of my being tells me I should.

It's been a rough couple of days for this old cub. And old is something I'm definitely feeling. After watching my little sister beat me to graduation, I found my first gray hair. Old age has officially set in. Of course, this startling discovery was made less traumatic when everyone I told had been finding the little buggers for years. When did we become middle aged?

Today I was sent a link to the wedding announcement of my last boyfriend. Not only is he married, he's a captain in the JAG. I'm sure he is not ugly in his uniform. That one was a cutie. And he had red hair, which is my downfall. In fact, most of the guys I've dated have had red hair. Now they are all officially married - and I'm on pace to go on another date in 2008. But I'm sure I'll be too busy celebrating the 100 year anniversary of the last Cubs World Series victory.

Things aren't all bad. I have an apartment, a dog, sole possession of the remote control, and most importantly, a ticket to Chicago. I really am going. I have an actual ticket. Well, not an actual ticket as much as the 300 pages of receipts I printed from Travelocity "just in case". My long-awaited journey to the baseball Mecca always seemed to get snagged on some current drama. The fact that I'm actually going is still beyond comprehension.

My trip will be a journey in independence. I will have to brave the El and Wrigley on my own. I'm not even a little concerned. Even though I've never been, Wrigley feels like home. Those are my people. And they'll know I'm one of them when I show up in my Todd Walker jersey. Of course, I'll have to bring an extra suitcase to get all the Cubs crap I buy back home. Oh, I can't even wait.

Right now I'll just have to send all my karma about four hours west to help the Cubs take on the Disastros in H-town.

Way to go, little sister!

2005-08-11T19:15:00.000-05:00

The Sister graduated from LSU today! And despite a few family frustrations, it was a pretty good day. She seemed to be very excited, and that was fun to watch. She told me to hurry up and graduate, because it's better than Christmas and your birthday rolled into one. I hear you, sister, I'm on my way.

I'm not jealous of her graduating before me, even if she is four years younger. She worked really hard, and I'm proud of her. Of course, the "by the time Jennifer graduates" jokes got old very early in the day. Ha Ha! Jennifer has been in school for nearly 10 years and is working full-time while trying to finish her degree. Very funny.

Anyway, I'm very happy for The Sister. She starts Nursing School in New Orleans tomorrow. And even though she has a few things I'd like to have (the skinny genes, a degree, a boyfriend, a nice car, the ability to do homework, etc), I'm really happy for her.

Sorry girls...

2005-08-01T19:27:00.000-05:00

but baseball calls again. I just wouldn't feel right passing up Ryno and Raffy today. It's too great of a day for hating on homers and loudmouth superstars. Wait for November. There should be a break before spring training.

Cub great Ryne Sandberg was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame yesterday. Ryno, like my beloved Gracie, was one of the guys who played for the front of the jersey, not the back. And since Grace is a longshot for the HOF, I'll only have Sandberg to celebrate. Of course, it's no secret that I'm a sucker for doubles-hitting infielders.

In his induction speech, Ryno had much to say about both homers and loudmouth superstars, including a subtle slam on Sammy. Here are some of the highlights:

The reason I am here, they tell me, is that I played the game a certain way, that I played the game the way it was supposed to be played. I don't know about that, but I do know this: I had too much respect for the game to play it any other way, and if there was there was a single reason I am here today, it is because of one word, respect.

If you played the game the right way, played the game for the team, good things would happen. That's what I loved most about the game, how a ground out to second with a man on second and nobody out was a great thing.

When did it become okay for someone to hit home runs and forget how to play the rest of the game? When we went home every winter, they warned us not lift heavy weights because they didn't want us to lose flexibility. They wanted us to be baseball players, not only home run hitters.

I played it right because that's what you're supposed to do, play it right and with respect. If this validates anything, it's that learning how to bunt and hit and run and turning two is more important than knowing where to find the little red light at the dug out camera.

I love any speech that gives a shout out to Grace and a slam to Sammy. In general, he really hits some of the points I've been ranting about. I hope his kind aren't a thing of the past.

On a less celebratory note, Rafael Palmeiro was suspended for steroid use today. This from a guy who got his 3000th hit last week and earlier in the season testified to Congress that he had not used steroids - period. Bad timing. I have to think that no one can be so stupid as to knowingly use during a year like this, especially someone with so much to lose. Still, when compared to Sandberg, any guy who uses to get his numbers leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

All the best to Raffy, though. He would still get my vote for the HOF. Just because he got caught doesn't mean he's the only would be HOFer who has used. Let's face it, he's not even the biggest cheater in the Orioles lineup. Until today, he has been one of the good guys in baseball. And unless you can go back in time and prove that no one else headed to the Hall used, you have to let his records speak for themselves.

3,000!

2005-07-27T06:51:00.000-05:00

(Derrek, Todd, and Neifi congratulate Maddux.)

Congrats to Greg Maddux on reaching the milestone of 3,000 strikeouts! This guy is one of the best ever and a class act to boot. In a time where so many athletes are loudmouths or cry babies, it's refreshing to watch a player just go out and do his job.

In fact, without Sammy Soso, the Cubs are a pretty humble group. No loudmouth, me me me, grandstanding "superstars" on this team. I mean, Derrek Lee is having the best season in MLB, and you don't hear a peep out of him. Same with Maddux and his record breaking. With all the injuries, you have a lot of replacements and rookies. They're just glad to be in the Big Dance. This is the type of team I like to root for.

There are definitely some showboaters in baseball, just not as many as other sports. I'm often asked why I like baseball so much. Many think it is too boring and slow to keep up with the other sports. Well, besides the history, the beauty of the field, the ballet of the footwork, and the calm flow of the game, the lack of spoiled, loudmouth "superstars" is one of the big reasons.

Players like Maddux, who study the game, break records without fanfare and honestly play for the team, not the stats, are what draw me to baseball. I'm really glad that "The Professor" came back home to Chicago to finish up his career. It's a pleasure to watch him break these records as a Cub. Really, it's just a pleasure to watch him play.

Unfortunately, the Cubbies couldn't hold on to get Maddux the "W" along with the record. After a 3 hour rain delay, the game went into extra innings. That meant that I got to stay up until 1:30 to watch my Todd Walker hit into a game-ending double play in the 11th. Giants win 3-2. I shouldn't complain. I'm lucky to have WGN in my life. Not all fans are so lucky as to have a large majority of their games televised nationally. And even with the loss of the game and of sleep, it was magical to watch Maddux make history.

Now we're up in the big leagues, gettin' our turn at bat...

2005-07-25T18:25:00.000-05:00

Yep, that's right. Jennifer and Mike the Dog are "movin' on up". Well, we're moving on over...1/3 of a mile. But it is a move, and a much needed one.

I've lived in the same studio/garage apartment for 5.5 years now. These have not been the 5.5 happiest years of my life. In fact, I have had some of the worst/dumbest luck over that time period. I was a completely different person when I moved into that little apartment. What I'm looking for now is a change in karma.

Now, I'm not blaming the little apartment. It's actually quite cute. At times, it has even been the only thing that felt right in my life. But there's no overlooking the strange turn in my fortune since I moved in. Let's look at the box score:

A tree fell on my roof, cracking the ceiling and ruining my bed.

I was in two car accidents. Neither was my fault, but one was blamed on me by garbage men.

Two freak injuries: unexplained tailgating injury to knee & current softball to shin injury.

Loss of job due to budgeting.

Awful non-dating relationship of three years.

Working in a campus basement with a mean midget, et al.

Deaths of: car (2, but one reborn), TV (2), AC, toilet, tree, CD player, bird, heater, friendships (oh, a hundred), fridge, beloved birkenstocks (to neighbor's dog),

Net gain of 8 million pounds.

I recently realized it was time to move when I started dating everything that has happened in my life to 5.5 years ago. I haven't been on a date in 5.5 years; I've lived in my apartment for 5.5 years; I've had the Volvo for 5.5 years; I haven't gotten new glasses in 5.5 years; I started getting vertigo 5.5 years ago.

The more I heard myself say these things, the more I realized I needed a change or I would go on living my non-life in that apartment forever. The move itself is not a big one. Same neighborhood, same rear apartment set-up, etc. But now I have rooms, a bath tub, w/d, and a yard I can let Mike the Dog play in.

Of course, I'm looking for signs in all this. I moved into the garage apartment during the worst month of my life and broke two full-length mirrors in it within the first month. Oh I was looking for signs when I was trying to decide on the new apartment. On my second visit, I found a shiny penny, face-up. Good good. On my third visit, a black cat appeared in the back yard. V. bad.

So no word yet on what kind of karma this place will provide. So far, everything has been great...pretty much. Well, the moving was bad. Apparently family support does cut off at 27. Any help after that requires a fee of a "life debt". At least now with the W/D, I won't have to go home for laundry...or anything, for that matter.

Never fear. I'm sure shaking my curse can't be that easy. There will likely be many "raincloud chasing only me" days to come...and many Bad Luck Jennifer stories to follow.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

2005-07-22T10:56:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday to LumberJill/Stretch/Student Worker/Without Wax!

Since she is my only reader, she will get her own mini-column. I dedicate it to her in "truth" style.

Truths about L/S/S/W:

1. She is very mature for her age.
I don't like girls very often, especially punk kid girls, but this one has a way of making you think she is much older. Let's just say she's wise for her age.

2. Whether she likes it or not, she's a little bit of a younger version of me.
Of course, she's destined to do much bigger things than I have. But it does seem like I'm in a little bit of a time warp when I'm with her. For instance, today she got pulled over for having an obstructed line of vision. What was obstructing it? The shoe polish her roomies had used to decorate it for her bday. The nice cop gave her a $50 ticket. Only someone cosmically linked to my bad luck could be so fortunate. Hopefully, all my lectures and "sage" advice will keep her from making the mistakes I have made.

3. She learned early to embrace her inner nerd.
Read her blog. The girl isn't afraid of telling the world that she likes hot air balloons. Besides, her blog is just good.

So, have a great birthday. Take all the food and alcohol your friends will buy you. Boss people around. Point at things you want rather than asking for them. Pour a little Bud Light out for me (but not too much, because you know I don't like wasted beer). And remember that I'd take you to Pancho's if I could, but, alas, we have lost him. Have a good one, kid.

No good, very bad day...so far

2005-07-19T09:10:00.000-05:00

I should be typing this from under a rock right now. Instead, I have chosen to brave the day and risk even more adventures into the rotten. Really, there's no reason I should be out of bed. No good can come from being out in the world on a day like this. But if I stayed home with my head under the sheets, I'd probably lose my glorious job.

The day started when I kept waking up with a very long dream about one of my best friends dying. Every time I went to sleep, it kept coming back. I know where this dream came from and I'm not worried about him, but it was incredibly disturbing.

As I was trying to shake the dream, I took Mike the Dog out, only to find a $100 electricity bill on my windshield. Now $100 may not sound like a lot, but it is double what I paid last month. Actually, last month = Friday. Since the landlord pays the bill, I just pay him. He went nearly two months without giving me one, then gives me two within a week. They just come whenever he feels like giving them to me. In turn, I will pay them whenever I feel like paying them. So $100 still might not sound bad, but it's a little ridiculous when you consider I live in a 300 sq.ft. room with one window unit, 5 light bulbs, and a TV.

Speaking of the TV, that bastard quit on me right in the middle of SportsCenter. It just went out and wouldn't come back on. Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh! No, this can't happen. I can't live without my TV. It brings me baseball, ESPN, Friends, more hours of The Cosby Show and Law & Order than a person can watch in a day, company for Mike the Dog while I'm at work, and a life for me at night. Sure, I could go buy a new one, if I didn't have 8 million other things to buy for my new apartment. Shit, how am I going to watch the Cubs game tonight? See, it's already starting.

When I got to work, I had one of those America's Funniest Videos moments where I dropped my crutches, dropped my keys trying to get my crutches, then dropped my crutches...ok, you know how this progresses. But where is Bob Saget with my prize money?

I'll let you know if anything else amusing/tragic happens today, unless I make it to my hole in the ground before any more bad karma can find me.

I'm serious, stop inviting me to this crap...

2005-07-14T12:21:00.000-05:00

I thought I was in the clear since wedding season appears to be over. But the other day I got a phone call from The Mom about a baby shower for a girl I grew up with. Now, this girl was always perfect. I spent the better part of my childhood being compared to her. She was nice, quiet, and made straight As. She was also the other catcher on our softball team, so I had to compete with her for playing time.

Perfect graduated from LSU in three years, landed a job with a hot shot accounting firm in New Orleans, and married a med student who happens to be one of the heirs to the biggest fortune in Louisiana. Now she's pregnant. If we had anything in common growing up, we certainly don't now. Her shower is being held by a girl I did cheerleading and dancing with in middle school. She landed one of the other heirs. The last time I saw her mom, she told me that she was eight months pregnant and weighed 110 pounds.

Of course, I told The Mom that I wasn't going to this shower. She threw a fit. Apparently, I'm not making a good name for myself on the mom circuit by skipping out on all the weddings and showers. The Mom is tired of lying for me and getting embarrassed that I never go to this stuff with her.

I tried to explain to her that I don't want to have to walk in and say, "Hi. I'm overweight, haven't graduated from college, working a crap job, single, and living in a garage apartment with the most significant male in my life - my dog." She insisted that no one would ever ask me all that. Oh yes they would. These people are diggers. They love to find dirt on you to report to the other diggers. That's why I try to avoid them.

That was not good enough for The Mom. I further tried to explain that, like Bridget Jones, I already feel like an idiot most of the time... I don't need any help. Something like this could make me feel like a failure in ways I don't even care about succeeding in. The Mom suggested that if I feel badly about myself, I should do something to change.

Then the guilt. This was destined to turn into a case of no one ever doing anything with her. Now, The Mom is a baseball fan. I told her I could go to a game or something with her, but that we could stop arguing about this, because there was no way I was going. I know that this will not be the end of it and that I really need to make a backup plan for that day. If not, I need to think of a really great story to send with her.

Black Wednesday

2005-07-13T19:35:00.000-05:00

The day after the All-Star Game is the only day of the year with no sporting events scheduled. It's a little creepy. Besides watching reruns of the ASG, Home Run Derby, Celebrity Softball Game, etc. thousands of times, you can read what the experts thought about the first half of the season and their predictions for the second half. Since I'd like to forget the first half of the Cubs' season and thinking about the second half frightens me, I'm sticking to the All-Star Game.

Apparently this is the first year for the ASG Red Carpet parade thing. A little strange sounding, but I figured I'd tune in and check it out. Ouch. Players are driven down a red carpet in various GMC cars. Ugly ones. Most of the guys are sweaty and have a "this is the lamest thing I've ever had to do for the sport" face. I don't know how they kept from laughing when Slutty Reporter Chick and D Bag Reporter Guy asked ridiculous questions, always including, "What do you think about this red carpet thing?" "Well, Slutty Reporter Chick, I think this is lame, but at least I can see all the way down your slutty shirt from up here."

The red carpet thing was on Fox Sports. The game was on Fox proper. Both were terrible. Almost as terrible as the holier-than-thou Fox News. In fact, now that I add all that to the fact that they have some sort of voodoo monopoly on Saturday games, I think I hate Fox. Anyway, I understand that there is a need for sponsors, but Billy Bob (plugging the Bad News Bears) talking about how cars and baseball are the national pastimes just to plug GMC in the opening sequence was too much. The real kicker for the old Fox network was when they introduced Derrek Lee as "Carlos Lee". Wow.

All this cheesiness continued into the intros of the lineups. Here's my beef: there is supposed to be a difference between Baseball and the NBA. Players don't need to be running through fireworks and down a second red carpet to get to the field. What the hell does a red carpet have to do with a baseball field? These people are about to go run in the dirt, they don't need a red carpet.

There's really just no need for all that stuff. The accumulation of the best players in the game, the natural beauty of a ballpark, and the national anthem are plenty. In fact, by the time they saluted England with "God Save the Queen" and played our national anthem, my room got very dusty. Sports and war movies are two of the only things that make me cry. Put them together and I'm a wreck.

The game itself was pretty anticlimactic. The American League held an early lead through the end of the game. The Cardinals, I mean National League, were just overmatched. D Lee and Aramis had decent games, but neither really stood out. Tejada won the MVP, because someone had to win it. Of course, this wasn't good enough for The Mom. She called to yell at me about it this morning. Teixara of the Rangers was slighted. He did just as much as Tejada. Conspiracy, blah, blah, blah...leave poor Kenny Rogers alone, blah, blah, blah. There's no sense in trying to add reason to these conversations, so I just have to accept the responsibility of the media for badgering Rogers and the entire U.S. for voting Tejada the MVP. That's my mom.

I didn't get too much else out of the game. Except for a little bit of guilt for being kinda hot for Piazza in the bullpen. What's wrong with me. Lets just chalk it up to my admiration of catchers, not my taste in Pert shampoo models. I guess I'll have to read a book tonight and watch Saved By the Bell instead of SportsCenter in the morning. Then, I just have to wait for whatever the second half brings.

Happy All-Star Day!

2005-07-12T18:53:00.000-05:00

Tonight is the All-Star Game! It feels like a holiday. Last night, All-Star Eve, was the Home Run Derby. Now, I've written before that I'm not a huge fan of home runs in general, but I have to say that I enjoyed the derby. I guess chicks do dig the long ball.

Part of the fun of the derby is that it's leading up to the game itself. Of course, this year is a little more exciting since Derrek Lee will be starting. I plan on celebrating by watching the game with Mike the Dog and downing a couple of hot dogs.

I was very excited to be asked by two different people to do something for the game, but, of course, they both bailed today. I was tricked into thinking I had a life for a second. I'm getting tricked into optimism a lot lately.

Regardless, I am very excited about the game. Tonight is the celebration of baseball and it is a part the fans have a say in (except when greedy managers start their entire teams...ahem...Cardinals). Besides, I don't need a life. I have baseball. And unlike Christmas, the All-Star Game doesn't make you feel like crap for being alone.

Jennifer and the Cubs, sitting in a tree...

2005-07-11T22:31:00.000-05:00

The more I think about my last post, the more I realize that I don't have enough recent experience dating guys to compare it to dating a team. As sad as it is, I have a lot more experience dating a team.

My love affair with the Cubs has been on again, off again since middle school. I've said before that I took breaks when I was doing girlier things in highschool/early college. Thinking back, it seems more like I took breaks when I was dating actual guys.

This is disturbing for two reasons. One, I would hate to think of myself as a girl that forgot about her team when she had a boyfriend. That's worse than forgetting about your girlfriends. Hopefully I have matured in the 400 years since I've actually dated someone. And two, it is sad to think I have been forced to substitute baseball for dating.

Nevertheless, I am dating the Cubs. And as I've been before, I am a clingy girlfriend. I wake up and watch SportsCenter to catch a clip of their last game. As soon as I get to work, I check the standings, get the box scores, and read all the articles on them that I can. If I can't listen to the game on the internet or watch it on TV, I frantically watch the ticker on ESPN2 or call the News Service every 5 minutes to find them. I have pictures of Wrigley in my office and at home, not to mention my screensavers.

OK, so maybe I'm a bit obsessive. Or maybe being terminally single just allows me way too much time to focus on baseball. I mean, it could be a lot worse. Baseball is a much better than knitting as a substitute for dating. And this way I actually have men in my life. Lots of them.

Ideally, I would meet a guy who would be as passionate about baseball as I am. Wait, I have met that guy... a million times. But here I am. Maybe you think it should be easy for a sports nut of a girl to find a guy. Very big misconception. More about that later. For now, I'll just plan a date with my boyfriend and wear my Believe bracelet in lieu of an engagement ring.

Delusions of Grandeur

2005-07-10T20:45:00.000-05:00

The Cubs swept the Marlins this weekend. See, that's how they get you. They bring you to the point that you think it is over and that they are a terrible team. Then they go and sweep a very good team right before the All-Star break. This makes you think they might actually be good, maybe good enough to make a run after the break. This is not good for one's mental well-being.

Loving a perennially bad team is a lot like being in a dysfunctional relationship. You fall in love with the potential. Surely, they'll come around and be the man/team I know they can be. They crap on you daily but give you just enough to keep you around. You love them with all your heart but know they probably don't feel the same way.

To justify staying, you tell yourself that they'll come around, that they really do love you, that there's no one better for you, that you'd rather be with them during a rough year over someone else having a great one, that they'll get a better job/bullpen, that the good days are worth going through the bad days, that no one else can make you feel like they can.

You say these things, but you know deep down there's a more important reason for staying. Although the odds are against them ever becoming what you have envisioned, there is still a chance. And you'll be damned if they do it after you have given up on them. The thought of wasting all of those years believing in them just to have someone else reap the benefits of your hard work and support, makes you sick. And so you stay.

Terminal Wrigleyitis

2005-07-08T20:18:00.000-05:00

A Dying Cub Fan's Last Request
-Steve Goodman

Do they still play the blues in Chicago
When baseball season rolls around
When the snow melts away,
Do the Cubbies still play
In their ivy-covered burial ground
When I was a boy they were my pride and joy
But now they only bring fatigue
To the home of the brave
The land of the free
And the doormat of the National League

(We feel you, Gracie.)

I've been playing that song a lot lately. The guy in that song is dying. Only, they didn't mention of what he was dying. I'm pretty sure it was from being a Cub fan. I used to think that I was jinxing any team I pulled for, because I am so unlucky. Now I know that the Cubs are jinxing me. They are slowly sucking the life out of me. I have finally figured out the root of my curse.

They tug at your heart strings with the ivy and bricks, the history, the optimism, Harry Caray, the damn billy goat, the rooftops, and the Believe bracelets. They hook you with promises of the best pitching staff, power hitters, World Series managers, Triple Crown leaders, and top-ranked rookies. And like a bunch of suckers, we actually believe.

But right now I believe that the Cubs are 13.5 games out of first place, 4 games under .500, 8 games out of the wild card, on an 8 game losing streak, have Derrek Lee listed as day-to-day, and about to go into the All-Star break in a hole they may not be able to dig themselves out of.

Baseball is what lights me up. The six months of the season bring most of my excitement for the whole year. When my team is done before they reach the halfway mark, they've killed my hobby. I don't want to read about sports, watch ESPN, talk to friends who pull for winning teams, go to games, listen/watch games on the internet, freakishly call news services to find out scores, or take lunch breaks to watch snippets of day games.

I know I'm not from Chicago. I've only pulled for the Cubs since middle school when Mark Grace won my heart, but I also went through phases of not paying much attention because I was doing girlier things (highschool). I realize that I have not suffered as much as someone from Chicago who has been following this team through their millions of years of pain and torture. My story is not new. I am not the only one.

The fact is that Cub Nation has been spoiled over the last few seasons. We have come to expect winning seasons and playoff hopes. The lovable loser mentality gave way to higher expectations and even more optimism. I think we forgot that the Cubs are supposed to lose.

And yet, here I sit, wearing my Believe bracelet, praying for a miracle, thinking there's a chance they can stop the Marlins and the D-Train this weekend, hoping this could still somehow be the year (or at least a good year), and waiting for next year if it's not.

This Old Cub

2005-07-01T18:44:00.000-05:00

I don't think I should be chastised for not writing this week. Come on, people, I'm crippled. And while I don't type with my shin, this injury is directly responsible for my nastier than normal mood. Being on crutches is physically and mentally exhausting. I have never felt older, less in shape, or more alone. The dog and the laundry and the grocery store were even worse than I imagined. Picture me on one crutch, pushing a buggy containing my other crutch, standing on one foot, loading groceries into my car IN THE POURING RAIN. That's what I get for trying to be independent.

Actually, this trying to be independent thing came by default. I am tired of begging people for help. It took me a week to get someone to come over to take my trash to the street. The Mom called to yell at me the other day because she ruined her favorite night shirt while doing my laundry. Incidentally, she called to yell at me today because The Dad, The Brother, and The Sister are leaving her at home while they go to our camp in Grand Isle. She hates GI & would never go. She just doesn't want anyone else going either. That's my mom.

Enough bitching. A remarkable thing just happened. I'm listening to the Cubs game. But only kinda bc they are losing 3-0. They bring a guest into the radio booth. Wild Bill Holden. He walked 2100 miles from Arizona to Wrigley Field to raise money for Juvenile Diabetes - the disease that claimed both legs of Cubs broadcaster & former player, Ron Santo. Wild Bill is 56 and has severe knee problems. Pretty remarkable. And I'm sitting here bitching about a stress fracture. The Cubbies came through for him. As soon as he got in the booth, Derrek Lee hit a homer. Two batters later, Hollandsworth hit one too. New score 3-2. Way to thank a hero, boys.

I haven't written any Truths in a while. Mostly because the Truths are supposed to consist of the few things I actually know. And these days I don't actually know anything. Since I'm trying to be positive, I'll play Polyanna and list the things that are actually good.

1. Derrek Lee will be the starting 1B in the All-Star Game.

The voting has ended, but the results have not been released officially. By all reports, Lee has come from behind 300,000 votes to win. He led for the first time on the last day of voting. I'd like to think my little fan column in the Trib had something to do with it. Anyway, he deserves it.

2. Wood and Prior are back and better than before.

Both had GREAT first games back this week. Nice to be fully loaded again.

3. The Campus Fed Sox finished in 3rd Place.

Kind of. There was a tie for 2nd. But we get a trophy that says 3rd Place. We will each take turns with it like the Stanley Cup.

4. Long weekend + 4th of July = Baseball, Beer, Burgers, Bed!

Plenty of time to sleep and watch the 4,000 baseball games on TV. Then Monday I am throwing a BBQ with a keg and everything. It would be the perfect weekend if I didn't have to clean while standing on one leg.

I know you'll all be watching the Cubs/Braves game on Monday. You can't help it. It's on WGN, TBS, and ESPN. There can't be anything else on. Worse than the Presidential Address. Of course, Tuesday's game is not on TV.

Regardless, have a good 4th. Stop by for a beer and burger, if you're in the area.

I'm going to leave you with a quote by our Chinese Grad Student about America and baseball:

"We think of Americans as characters. They are like a little kid who plays by himself. The rest of the world is passionate about soccer, but America makes up its own games and is passionate about those. Like a little kid who plays by himself and doesn't care what anyone else thinks of him."

Curses...Part II

2005-06-24T19:19:00.000-05:00

The answer to my plea for an injury to keep me out of the beer league has finally come. After a week of pain, swelling, and bruising, I went to the orthopedist to get my softball injury checked. Stress fracture. Crutches. The Boot.

Seriously, what have I done to deserve all this. People have stopped laughing because it isn't even funny anymore. Well, it's kind of funny.

This is just another situation that is especially rough because I'm single. Oh, and because family support cuts off at 27. I'm really not sure how I'm supposed to fill my prescription, get groceries or do laundry. Taking the dog out is going to be enough of a treat.

The fact that I am single has been rubbed in my face during my two doctors visits. Is this your insurance or your husband's? Is there any chance you could be pregnant? Do you have someone to help you around the house? Check the box that says "single". Check the box that says "single". Check the box that says "single". Seriously, are they sending copies to all my old boyfriends? Why do I have to do this 4000 times?

Sorry. I'm just a little bitter right now. I'm just wondering where all this luck comes from.

Did I mention I was raised in a house with three black cats?

Embrace Your Inner Purse

2005-06-20T19:25:00.000-05:00

Everything is a little nicer on the first day of a new purse. You have a reason to wake up and leave your apartment. Going to work or even the grocery store becomes a fresh experience. It takes a bit more to ruffle your feathers on New Purse Day. Outfits that were old become new again. No matter what you look like, a purse can say something about you. Most clothes don't look quite as stylish unless they are draping a mannequin or super model. Not so with a purse. A purse looks the same on everyone. Anyone can be stylish with a good purse.

Today's new purse is green. When TJMaxx.com screwed up my order for the perfect green dress, they sent a gift card as an apology. I knew immediately that would go towards a new purse. As I walked through the store with a shopping cart full of purses, I saw this green one. I knew that this beautiful $80 purse (TJMaxx price $40) could replace the soul of the green dress that I lost. So as the Yanks were sweeping the Cubs (obviously not on TV), I was doing some retail therapy to make up for a crappy weekend.

Purses are to me what shoes are to Carrie Bradshaw. OK, so I have a new addiction. No, not purses. That's an old one. My new love is Sex and the City. That may be apparent since I seemed to have developed a case of mentionitis for it over the last few posts. I never thought I would like it. From everything I had seen of it, it screamed "Girly Girl Show". Resisting the show wasn't hard since I don't have HBO. But once it started coming on TBS, I gave in. After a few episodes and 8 million commercials, I started to wonder if it was more about being single than being a girl. I was intrigued.

I borrowed the first 5 seasons from a girl at work. Last week I watched 30 hours of Sex and the City, the first 4 seasons. I need help. Not only is that a lot of TV, but S&C is not normal TV. It is very warped, and the last thing I need is to be more warped. But these episodes are like candy. I just can't get enough. One night I thought it ironic that I would go home to a Filet O'Fish and Sex and the City, but sure enough, there was Carrie with a Filet O' Fish. I feel very connected to these characters, even though they are always dating, live in a real city, have perfect bodies, wear expensive clothes, and have girl friends. My $40 purse still gives me the same rush that Carrie gets from $400 shoes.

Anyway, my new obsession has been a good diversion from the recent troubles of the Cubs. It may not be an obvious substitute, but it works. The problem is that my new love has raised a couple of troubling questions.

1) Am I really a girly girl?
2) What will I do with myself after I have made it through the last season?

Curses

2005-06-19T21:52:00.000-05:00

After the debacle that was Friday night, I had to hit the store for Advil, beer, and cigarettes. There was no way I was getting through my new shin injury without them. As I was pulling into Wal-Mart, a black cat ran in front of my car. I started to think how many black cats have been crossing my path lately. It's definitely an abnormal number. Sometimes I think it may even be the same damn cat. Some people think I am imagining the cats. Nevertheless, after I got home from the horrid Friday night (and minutes after the black cat, I slipped turning off my floor lamp and hit my head on the dining table.

There is no doubt that I lead a cursed existence. I'm just trying to figure out why. The old theory was that I was a Nazi in my last life and that I was being punished. Now I'm starting to wonder if it's something I'm doing to myself. I have been single for 5 years. To be more precise, I have been single the exact amount of time I have lived in my current apartment. Makes me think that the apartment is cursed for me. I usually just shake that off since I love my apartment so much, but I did break two full-length mirrors within a month of moving in there. Actually, that period of 5 years has had 3 or 4 lifetimes worth of bad luck. Nothing tragic, just enough little stuff to make you scream.

And of course there is my baseball team. I picked the Cubs in middle school, but if I had to pick today, there could be not be a more logical choice. The poor Cubbies were swept by the Damn Yankees this weekend. It's such a shame how much potential they have and how much little crap happens to them each season to keep them from actualizing it. Granted, a lot of my unactualized potential comes from mistakes that I have made and continue to make, but I think I, like the Cubs, have more than my fair share of misfortune.

I still don't know where this bad luck originates. I certainly don't know how to get rid of it. Think of how many people have tried to break the Curse of the Billy Goat. Why should I be able to do anything about my luck? Oh Red Sox fans, please give me your remedy. I promise to use it only for good. Maybe there are Sox fans who have had their own curses lifted since they won it all. Can they help me? Or maybe my cursed team and I were fated to be together under the same unlucky star.

Suggestions for breaking my curse are welcome.

Hostage Situation

2005-06-18T09:32:00.000-05:00

I am being held hostage. By the Our Lady of Mercy Church Softball Beer League. I enrolled in this league with the understanding that some of the other Fed Sox wanted to play in it. I am now the only one on the team. We picked up a few stragglers, but they are people I do not know. It's really hard to field a team on Fridays, especially when you don't know the people on your team and can't get in touch with them. I've been trying desperately to get out of this league and let the stragglers fend for themselves but have gotten nowhere. Every time I try to quit, the men in charge tell me to buck up and do what I can.

Looking forward to last Friday's game was like looking forward to a root canal. I prayed for rain, but it cleared up just in time to play. I tried to forfeit. That is apparently unacceptable. They would rather put together a bunch of people from other teams than let you forfeit. As the end of the day neared, I begged co-workers to hit me with their cars so that I wouldn't have to play, but in the end I knew I had to take my lumps and go out there.

It wasn't so bad. I love to play, but these people are not especially fun teammates. The answer to my prayer to be hurt came, but too late. At the end of the second game, I took a hot grounder to the shin. I screamed an obscenity and hit the ground. Like an idiot, I stayed in the game. Since I was the only girl playing, I didn't want to look like a total wimp, especially after taking crap for being one of the weak women from a certain former student worker of mine. Friday I did my part for women everywhere. After the bird thing, I felt I owed it to them.

The bird is still on my carport. The rain has washed away a lot of it, but I may have to be my own hero and finally do something about it. Or I could just watch more Sex and the City.

Mock...yeah... ing.. yeah... bird... yeah....

2005-06-17T19:28:00.000-05:00

I started writing a response to a comment made by LumberJill on her blog, http://www.alwayswithoutwax.blogspot.com/ , but it got too long. She claims that I am one of the weak women because I wouldn't pick up the dead bird. I feel the need to defend myself here. The bird wasn't just dead. I can handle dead. I can't handle guts, bones, blood, feathers, etc. all ground into my carport. Some people are just squeamish. Believe me, I know a lot of guys who wouldn't do this. LumberJill also stated that she may be useless because she can't do feminine things or masculine things. Although I can't do many girly things (examplis gratis: cook, clean, learn to fix my hair, fake liking people, drive like a retard, eat chocolate, throw like a girl, drink margaritas ) , I can shop, gossip, cry, watch Sex and the City, ovulate, and write neatly.

post scriptus: The dead bird is still lying on my carport. I'm hoping this rain storm will take him away.

I need a hero...

2005-06-16T17:57:00.000-05:00

Today is a bad day to be single. This morning I found a half-eaten bird on my carport. I knew that leaving it there on a day when it is supposed to reach 97 degrees was a bad idea, but I still couldn't make myself deal with it. I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do. I don't have a shovel. I don't want to use my only broom and dust pan. I certainly can't get close enough to pick it up with a bag or something. Since family support stops at 27, I surely can't call my dad or brother to help. And I would feel pretty stupid asking my landlord to deal with it. Please let me know if you have any suggestions for disposing of the bird without throwing up in my mouth.

When I was little, my sister and I used to cover up bugs in the house with cups and leave notes on top that said stuff like, "Big, nasty, scary, bug inside. Please take care of." Then we would wait until my dad came home to dispose of the bug. When I moved in by myself, it didn't take me long to figure out that I had to take care of bugs on my own. I still used the old cup trick at first, knowing that no one would come get it. The bug would stay in there until I knew it was dead, then I would throw it away. I just liked sending a message to the other bugs that they would have to suffer a long a painful death if they messed with me. I have become less squeamish about that kind of stuff after living by myself for 5 years, but this demolished bird is too much.

Note to all of you marrieds: This is what it's really like to be single. It's not really like Sex and the City. Next time you look back on your single days fondly or envy your single friends, think of me and the bird decomposing outside my front door.

Just a little patience...

2005-06-14T18:36:00.000-05:00

I know that I've already written about weddings - a lot. But I think there's an epidemic. I was one of at least 3 people in the office to attend a wedding out of town last weekend. I'm pretty sure the marrieds are planning a takeover and currently in a huge recruiting push. I'm just afraid of what they'll do with the leftover singles. I've gotten a couple of truths from other readers about eating bacon all day and Atkins. Maybe the low carb thing is a way for the marrieds to kill off the singles that are left. Only explanation for the evilness that is Atkins.

The wedding was nice. The trip was rough. Everything that could go wrong did. Louisville took its toll on us. Cincinnati, however, was very nice. I saw the Reds play the Orioles for $9, parked for free, sat 10 rows up behind home plate, had a burger and dog ($8), wore a Cubs hat and still heckled Sammy Sosa. People must have been confused. I didn't see much of Cincin except the ballpark and the airport, but downtown and the riverfront were quite pretty.

I think today's truths will paint a pretty vivid picture of the trip.

Things we learned in Louisville, KY:

1. Love is patient and kind.

You would have to be braindead not to have gotten this little nugget of wisdom. It was in toasts, songs, and my reading from the wedding. Actually, I thought it was pretty ironic that I had the reading about love. I don't think I was a very reliable source to bring that info to the churchgoers. Good thing there were plenty of other people to drive it home.

2. You can never grow up in your friends' eyes.

Even though we are 27, some of our more settled friends still swore they heard us running up and down the hall outside of their room at 4am. Apparently my voice double was screaming about homeland security coming to get her or something.

3. Alcohol is an acceptable bridal party gift.

The boys got Maker's Mark and I got Kentucky Ale and Cubs beer glasses. Way more thoughtful than an empty flask or keychain.

4. Bud Light is an acceptable date for a wedding.

Even the bartender said so.

5. Your friends will know if you throw up in a bar bathroom.

Apparently I am the world's fastest peeing girl. So if I don't come out of the bathroom in 30 seconds, something must be up. I don't like these super powers of deduction that they possess. Side note: Love may be patient, but your friends might not be when you storm out of the bar into the streets of L'ville. Maybe they shouldn't have poured out my beer.

6. The nicer the hotel, the more change you need to bring.

No, not for tipping. For all the beggars. Usually they make it worth the change by telling you great stories.

7. Apparently Saturday is a weekday in Louisville.

I got a parking ticket for parking by a sign that read, "No parking on weekdays." Not paying that. This is just one of the 10,000 little things that went wrong. That place must be cursed. Actually, our hotel was supposed to be haunted. Brother of the Babe?

8. Don't pour a bottle of water on your boyfriend to wake him.

Especially when he closed down the bars at 4am.

9. Don't buy a Chevrolet Classic.

The world's worst rental car.

10. Do not invite children to your wedding reception.

The band was pretty cool, but no one could dance because they were apparently taping an episode of Romper Room on the dance floor.

11. Make sure you are seated next to your friends on all flights. Even though not sitting next to them may seem like a break, it can always be worse.

Instead of Phil, I got a mother AND her 2-year-old in the seat next to me. They took up half my seat, kicked and elbowed me, and ate Chinese food. I asked for an empty seat and was told there weren't any. I was pretty sure I would explode at any second. Thankfully a seat was found right before we took off. The mom and 2-year-old were moved two rows back; Dad and 1-year-old were still behind me. I wasn't out of danger quite yet, though. We were still close enough to benefit from the kids screaming and kicking our seats. Everyone was close enough to benefit from the mom changing dirty diapers in the middle of the aisle.

post scriptus: I am not a kid hater. There are just places for kids, and those places aren't airplanes and weddings. Parents need to be a little more respectful of other people around. Oh, and these parents are the same people who would complain if I smoked within a one mile radius of them. More to come on Grown Up World later.

2005-06-14T16:41:00.001-05:00

The Group.

2005-06-14T16:41:00.000-05:00

My boys - since kindergarten.

2005-06-14T16:39:00.000-05:00

Phil and Jenny at the Great American Ballpark in Cincinnati. Reds vs. Orioles.

2005-06-09T16:04:00.000-05:00

My brain is fried. I have lost the ability to form rational thoughts. So today I am going to give you some truths from other people - of course, as interpreted by me.

1. Our office bathroom is in need of a sign that reads, " Please flush toilet before you leave."
- My boss

I'm not sure what scares me more - the fact that there may actually be a need for this or the fact that I was asked to do it.

2. America has too much freedom.
-Our grad student from China

I had a very interesting and very informative conversation with her about the differences between China and America. Mind boggling. I've never thought of freedom as something you can have too much of, but I'm very glad to have had the chance to see things from such a different perspective.

3. I am 27 and should never have to ask anyone for anything.
- My mom

Apparently family support cuts off at 27...and not just financial support. Once you hit the big 27, you can't ask for advice, money, someone to take care of your dog while you're gone, et cetera. This is very new and very scary information. Someone out there should be warning 20 somethings before it's too late. I had no idea until today.

4. ...now I can't even remember anything people have said...please write in with some truths...maybe they'll spark something...

And I'm off to Ken-tuck for a wedding. Yee Haw!

The Breakfast of Champions...not losers

2005-06-07T18:32:00.000-05:00

My profile claims that "I eat SportsCenter for breakfast." This is actually true. I'm not much of a breakfast person. Lying on the couch with Mike the Dog and watching TV is about all I can manage for the first hour or so of my day. I don't watch the real news. I figure that if something big enough happens outside of the sports world, they'll at least mention it on SportsCenter.

I have come to a few conclusions about my appetite for morsels of sports information. So back by popular demand (or to please my one reader "LumberJill"), here are today's truths:

1. I will watch ESPN all morning, flipping through its various channels, just to see a 30 second clip of a game I watched in its entirety.

Even worse, I will watch the same episode of SportsCenter up to three times just to see the same clip. Really, I can't even make sense of this. It's like SportsCenter itself becomes a game. I want to see what great things they say about the game and which plays they want to highlight. That's still no excuse. They must be brainwashing me.

2. Baseball Tonight is a better source for baseball, but I still watch SportsCenter more often.

Baseball Tonight is a great show, but it's really not on as much as SportsCenter. Besides, I pride myself on being a sports fan. Sometimes SC is my only source for football and basketball. It gives me just enough info that I can shake my head and play like I know what people are talking about when they feel the need to go on about the other sports. Also, the times for Baseball Tonight aren't as good for me. 6am is a bit ludicrous when I can catch the second half of SC from 6:30-7:00 and the first half from 7:00-7:30. God forbid I sleep 5 minutes too late and miss the Cubs clip somewhere in the middle. I walk through the day feeling like I'm missing something. I search for it all day on ESPN.com, ESPN.com/Page2, The Chicago Tribune, Cubs.com, and MLB.com...but it's not the same.

3. SportsCenter is just better when hockey is on strike.

I'm sorry to all of you hockey fans. I really am. Especially you, PowerRanger. But waiting through a bunch of hockey clips to get to the baseball is too much. It's even worse when I'm trying to read the ticker to keep up-the-minute on a game. I have wasted way fewer hours of my life because of this strike. Still, I hope you get your sport back. Try steroids. It worked for baseball after their strike.

4. It is too painful to watch sports news when your team loses.

That's one of the bad things about losing. I think, "Dammit. Now I can't watch SportsCenter in the morning. " Exampli gratia: last night when the Cubs and Heat (I pull for Shaq bc he's an alum) lost at almost exactly the same time. I slept in so I wouldn't be forced to watch the bad news again. I love to get good news more than once, but you just can't take the bad again. In fact, I can't even take any sports after a bad loss. After the 2003 playoffs, I couldn't watch games of any kind for quite some time.

On the same note: Please stop showing me Prior and Nomar getting hurt. I know what it looks like & it makes me physically ill. Same with Bartman. Let him R.I.P.

Mom's Wake-up News Service

2005-06-06T21:49:00.000-05:00

I'm a pretty superstitious person. So I took Sunday morning's wake up call from Mom as a bad omen. I had, of course, stayed up pretty late watching the Cubs play on the West Coast. I've done this all week, so sleeping in on Sunday was something I had been looking forward to. When I answered the phone in a groggy voice at 9:30, my mom was amazed that I was still sleeping. This did not stop her from going forward with the conversation.

So what was so important that I needed to be awake? She wanted to read me the society page write-up on my highschool boyfriend's wedding. Alright, I've already written about my less than loving attitude towards weddings. But this wasn't just any wedding. It was Highschool Boyfriend's and it was in the society pages because the girl he married is rich. Good Morning, Jennifer, and welcome to your less than perfect life. Not a good way to start the day.

Mom's Wake-Up News Service is actually not at a new thing. In highschool, she used to come into my room to read me all the wonderful things written about people we knew in the Teen Section. In college, it was the DWI listings. Now it's the weddings. It would be one thing if she woke me up to good news. I'd love to get a call that the Cubs signed Roger Clemens or won in a late game. I'd be pretty pumped to get a call that purses were 50% off somewhere. She reads every single word of the paper. There's bound to be some good news that I actually care about somewhere in there.

Or is it more fun for her to wake me up with the news that I'm not married or rich or a National Merit Finalist or an Eagle Scout. Hell, I'm so incompetent that I can't even wake up early. I've always loved the people who get so bent out of shape that you aren't awake before 10am on the weekends. Not only is it acceptable for them to call and wake you, it's a favor. I think I will start calling these people at 4am and telling them that they should be awake since I am. Maybe I'll read them the box scores as an added service.

Anyway, the bad start to the day actually was a sign. The mighty Campus Fed Sox fell in a 4-2 loss to the Best Ballaz. I was nearly crippled in the game. A nagging calf injury came back after every infielder pulled me 5 feet off the bag (in the air) and the SS hit me in the shin. I further injured myself by sliding safely into my carport at home. At this rate, I may be using a walker by the end of the day.

The one saving grace of the day was an outing to the never good Buffalo Wild Wings to watch the Cubs beat the Padres. A couple of friends joined me to consume massive amounts of beer. While I was there, I noticed a group of people watching the Cubs game. One of the guys was wearing an Illinois Basketball t-shirt. I assumed they were probably from Chicago. But once I went over there to talk to them, I realized they were watching the White Sox game as well. I told them that they couldn't be from Chicago and be pulling for both teams, but they assured me that they were. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around that one. I mean, Sister's Boyfriend is a White Sox fan and he wouldn't even play on our softball team if we were named after the Cubs. How could these people root for both in good consciousness. They said something about rooting for whichever team was doing well. Hogwash.

After my wonderful Sunday, I had dreams all night about calling in cripple to work. Unfortunately, I knew I really had to go. At least I can look forward to a week of getting ready for my next wedding.

post scriptus: I just talked to my mom. The other day my she told me not to buy any shoes for this weekend's wedding at a certain store, because they always have a coupon on weekends. Today I called to see if she saw one.

Mom: Yes, but I'm sure it was only for the weekend.

Me: Why didn't you tell me you saw it?

Mom: You didn't call and ask me.

Me: How was I supposed to know it was there if I don't get a paper?

Mom: You should have called.

Me: I sure didn't call and ask you about Highschool Boyfriend's wedding, but that didn't keep you from waking me up with that information.

Mom: Did you call just to yell at me for not telling you about the coupon?

Hmph.

I'm Published!!!!

2005-06-02T23:21:00.000-05:00

I sent my last post (Derrek Lee for President) to the Chicago Tribune's website. They picked it for the fan column of the week.

http://chicagosports.chicagotribune.com/sports/baseball/cubs/cs-050602cubsfanview,1,2259553.story?coll=cs-cubs-headlines

I must say that I'm a little giddy. Maybe my little column will help D Lee. Then I can say that I did my part. I don't often get to feel connected to the Cubbies since I'm 800 miles from Chicago.

I guess I haven't written much about my family. My parents' reactions to my column should shed some light on them:

Me: I got published on the Tribune's website.

Dad: Why?

Mom: Yeah, well, the Rangers are losing.

Luckily, I got a little more props from the office folks and some of my friends. I guess this is my 15 minutes of fame. At least it wasn't on reality TV.

2005-06-02T22:58:00.000-05:00

Derrek Lee

Derrek Lee for President

2005-06-02T22:54:00.000-05:00

This is a plea to Cub fans everywhere. One month remains in All-Star voting, and we are the ones responsible for getting Derrek Lee in the game. Right now, Albert Pujols leads Lee by 300,000 votes. There is no doubt that Pujols is an outstanding First Baseman, but Derek Lee has had a remarkable season thus far. After the first two months of 2005, Lee was the National League leader in batting average, home runs and RBIs. Actually, he led the entire Major League in those categories and was in the top 5 of both hits and runs. No one in either league has given a more All-Star worthy performance. We, as Cub fans, are the ones who have benefitted from Lee's performance. The best way to repay him is to vote him into the game. 300,000 may seem like a large deficit, but with the number of Cubs fans across the country (and the world), this should be an easy task. Wrigley is sold out every game, and many away games look like home games with the number of Cub fans in the crowd. There may be no greater testament to the loyalty of Cub fans than the fact that Nomar is leading the voting at SS. He isn’t even playing. If fans can show that kind of loyalty to a player not even playing, then surely we can muster up enough support to get D Lee in first place. I believe that there are more fans of the Chicago Cubs than any other team in baseball, and these fans don’t only reside in Chicago. I, myself, am one of the millions across the country who are part of the Cubs Nation. Let’s band together and use our numbers to get our #1 player into the All-Star Game.

There was an old lady...

2005-05-25T23:52:00.000-05:00

I am invited to 3 weddings in a 2 week period. Gross. I'm only going to one, but still. Weddings are not exactly my favorite thing. Weddings suck pretty bad when you are single. They are even worse when you are the only single one among your friends. Since I am the only single person my age left in the world, that would always be me. I'm not bitter about being ringless, but it's still no fun to go to all of this stuff alone. Lately I've been getting invitations that don't say "and date". I thought they are all supposed to say that. Do they expect me to show up by myself? Has the word gotten out that I am terminally single? God, does everyone know? Do these people doubt my ability to find someone to bring with me? Come on, the DHL Delivery guy asked me out just 6 months ago. Oh yeah, I'm not going to those weddings.

I guess all this wedding stuff has made me desperate for someone to drag along to crap. I decided to pull my profile back up on match.com. I had done it a couple of years ago, but was tired of the e-mails full of grammatical and spelling errors. Seriously, that site should offer proof reading or spell check or something. OK, so it wasn't all spelling. I met 2 of the guys that wrote me. One of them was a little too Napoleon Dynamite for me. And I'm not picky. Anyway, I decided to try it again. I picked 2 guys and winked at them. Neither of these guys looked like Rock Hudson, but they both seemed nice and real and reasonably intelligent. Well, apparently match.com has added a new feature since I last tried it. "No thanks". If someone contacts you, you can politely refuse them. Today I got a "No thanks" from one of my non-Rock Hudson picks. Hmph. I don't need that kind of rejection from people desperate enough to use match.com. I feel confident that I can get plenty of rejection in the real world from normal people.

All this wedding/single talk brings me to today's truth:

1. I deserve a Spinster Shower once I hit 30.

In the last 10 years, I must have been to 3 million showers and weddings and such. All these people I know have gone to their favorite stores and registered for everything that they want, and I have had to go buy it for them. How is that fair? You get a husband. I'm the one who should be getting free stuff - as a consolation prize. I have never liked this. Well, I'm pushing 30, and Vegas says I have eliminated the odds that I am married by the time I make it there. There is no reason as a grown-up (bc surely you are grown up at 30) woman that I shouldn't have nice stuff. It would be a shame if I still had old rusted Wal-Mart pots. And I shouldn't have to go get stuff myself. Married people don't have to. And they usually have 2 incomes in the house. No, I should be able to go to my favorite stores and pick out stuff for everyone I have ever met to get me. They owe me.

They also owe my mom. She has actually thrown and hosted several showers for her friends' kids. Now they are into baby showers. They all do this for each other. But I told my mom she's getting screwed. It's going to be a while before my sister gets married and has kids. And seriously, we all know she'll beat me. So all of my mom's friends better chip in for this Spinster Shower. It shouldn't be any different than these other self-serving parties people have. Well, except for one thing. In lieu of a gift, you can bring an eligible guy to offer me. Just steer clear of DHL guys and the spelling bee champs of match. com. "No thanks."

Going, going, gone!

2005-05-24T21:36:00.000-05:00

I was watching the 2001 Home run Derby at lunch today. (Mike the Dog watches ESPN while I'm gone - WGN if the Cubs play during the day.). Anyway, I was watching Giambi belt 14 dingers in one round. It was pretty strange, considering the troubles he's having on and off the field these days. I guess maybe the decrease in homers and the size of past home run hitters could be the reason they showed this oldie-but-goodie today. Anyway, watching that brought me to today's truth:

1. Home runs aren't the most important thing in baseball.

The over-emphasis on home runs is my biggest problem with MLB. It really hit me hard one day when I heard that Barry Bonds was about to become the greatest player in the history of baseball. What? You can say that based on one stat? There's so much more to it. Granted, if you belt 500 homers, your other stats are probably pretty high, but you have to factor in a few more things when looking at players.

First of all, I don't know how anyone can truly rank players or compare stats from different eras. Whether we like it or not, baseball has changed. If you are going to asterisk one player, you'd have to asterisk everyone who played before blacks were allowed, everyone who played in the "juiced" era, everyone who played longer seasons. None of these things would be quite as big of a deal if it weren't for the beloved home run records.

Right now everyone is talking about how the innoncence of the game is lost because of steroids. No, steroids, juiced balls, smaller parks, etc. are a product of the nation's short attention span. We were so excited to come back to Sammy and Mark in '98 after losing our innocence over the '94 strike. But the more people got excited about homers, the smaller the ballparks got and the bigger the players got. I fell in love with Sammy Sosa after that summer too. But after a few seasons of watching him and the other power hitters strike out, hit into double plays, have strange injuries, and act like prima donnas, i got sick of it.

Maybe I'm too much of a purist, but I would much rather see a 2-out rally on 3 or 4 hits and some baserunning than a 2-out homer. Baseball is a team sport, and letting these power hitters become bigger than the team (Sammy, Barry, etc.) is dangerous. It took a long time for many Cubs fans to see Sammy like I had been seeing him for years: as a strike out king and ninny baby. (As always, more on my hatred of Sosa later.) I love infielders who leg out doubles and awe me with their gloves. That looks like it takes work. Watching a bulked up hulk poke it over the fence doesn't look like it takes a lot of skill. Now, it still is fun to watch a regular guy come up with a long shot. But now home runs are no longer a luxury. They have lost a little of their luster. And that's a shame.

Fed Sox Win! Fed Sox Win!

2005-05-22T17:55:00.000-05:00

The Campus Fed Sox came back from behind to win today. We scored 6 in the final inning to win by 4. Oh yeah, it was 95 degrees. We turned our first double play and everyone came through at their positions. It was really fun, but we almost died of heatstroke. I scored the go-ahead run, which is really amazing since I rarely score. I usually get on, but you could say I'm a little bit of a liability on the bases. I have had the nickname "ice wagon" since I was a kid. My dad came up with that one. Nice.

The team nearly had a heart attack when I didn't get to the game an hour early. I was watching the end of the Cubs/White Sox game. Prior went the distance and finished up the game. Love him. They lost the series 1-2, but the win today was nice. They will have to sweep the series when they play on the South Side for me to win my bet with Sister's boyfriend. He's a White Sox fan. Yesterday at his graduation party I had to endure watching our loss with him and his Cardinals fan friend. I shouldn't have to do that.

After Sister's Boyfriend's crawfish boil, I went to a crawfish boil with my friends. I won beer pong! I am the best girl beer ponger ever. But last night brought me to today's truth.

1. Do not waste beer in front of me.

Especially if I'm the one who bought the beer and you are some random girl that I don't know. I got to the party late and had a lot of catching up to do drinking-wise. The party was at the house of a guy we went to elementary school with. I really like him and his friends. We usually tailgate with them, mostly for the beer pong. I have made beer pong friends with these guys. When I got to the party, some loud girl (apprently the bitchy wife of one of my beer pong friends) was trying to get her husband to leave. He wanted to play beer pong again since I had shown up. In an attempt to get him to leave, SHE POURED OUT 6 CUPS OF THE BEER I JUST BOUGHT! I almost killed her. Instead, I talked smack about her all night. It's a good thing I hadn't had more to drink at that point. Someone should have told her how seriously I take beer conservation.

My friends tell stories about me going insane about wasting beer. It's kinda my thing. I have been known to make people lick up spilled beer off of a table; I have put into policy that certain people (known for getting new beers before they finish one) have to hold the can upside down over their heads before getting a new one; I once even saved a can of Natty Light when I fell completely on my back into a puddle on a particularly sloppy gameday - people cheered. Anyway, I may be overreacting, but it's something I feel strongly about. There may be no use crying over spilled milk, but you better run if you spill beer in front of me.

2005-05-20T16:26:00.000-05:00

This is my softball team. The Campus Fed Sox. We are sponsored by Campus Federal Credit Union (get it?). It is comprised of people in the office and people in my family. At the present, we are 3-3 with 4 games remaining. Still, we have the best unis in the league.

2005-05-20T12:36:00.000-05:00

This is Mike the Dog. He is the love of my life. Even though he eats pillows and things and doesn't come when i call him. He can, however, catch a frisbee in the air.

2005-05-20T12:25:00.000-05:00

Um, this is me. If you can't tell, I'm a Cursebuster for Halloween. I am also drunk. This is not unusual.

...and the pitch

2005-05-19T11:25:00.000-05:00

After getting only 3 hours of Post-Star Wars sleep, my brain is not functioning fully today. I apologize in advance should I fall asleep mid-post. I also apologize if you fall asleep. Maybe I should save my thoughts for a more lucid moment but there are things I want to say before I die from sleep deprivation. Last night was somewhat historical & it brought me to a truth (you know, one of those things I actually know).

Today's Truth:

1. It is important to embrace your inner nerd.

Last night was the Super Bowl for geeks. Two lines of Storm Troopers, Jedi Knights, and regular nerds with light sabers wrapped around the giant theatre. Applause rang out throughout the movie (as well as when the nice theatre worker gave back Darth Vader's confiscated light saber to avoid the boos and jeers). There were traffic cops managing the trillions of people leaving the 4 screenings. The natural instinct, even for this self-proclaimed fan, is to laugh a little. The world pokes fun at the passion of these enthusiasts, which I guess includes me for being there. But I thought it was pretty neat.

It is imperative to be passionate about something in life. It can be sports, religion, reading, running, video games, cooking, eating, cartoons, movies, dance, art, something. But you have to be a little overboard about something. There has to be at least one thing that lights you up so much that you will endure public ridicule, if that's what it takes. It is ideal if this passion opens your mind and encourages you to think on new levels, or really to think at all.

As people I had seen Ep. III with last night passed my office, we talked about the movie and the stories as a whole (which they are now). For a second, I wondered what some of the yahoos that are too cool/busy/important/mature to like Star Wars would think if they heard what we were saying. But really, what do those people ever do that requires abstract thought. What do they discuss that has anything to do with something other than their petty lives? Reality TV?

No, the nerds are one up on these folks. And that's how they like it. Sure, things like reading and Star Wars will get you funny looks when you are a kid and an adult, but it puts you in an elite type of group: the thinkers, the brains, the nerds. To me, this is worth the ridicule. I much prefer to be a nerd/intellectual snob than a regular, non-thinking snob.

As far as Star Wars, I'm more into the overall story than the details. I do not go to conventions. However, last night I had a couple of moments that were emotional in the way a great game can be. I felt a connection with the others who were feeling the same way, much like I do when the band takes the field at an LSU football game and 90,0000 people scream in union because of their common love of the team. While sports may be "cooler" than Star Wars, it is still important to have your passion, whatever that may be. For those light saber-toting geeks, last night was their night. May the force be with them.

2005-05-19T08:34:00.000-05:00

Some of the work crew at Revenge of the Sith.

2005-05-19T08:33:00.000-05:00

Wow, we were one of the groups with a light saber.

The Stretch...

2005-05-18T20:04:00.000-05:00

OK, it's day 2 of this blog thing & I'm still at it. Pretty good when you look at my track record for sticking with stuff. I tried to post pictures, but apparently that's asking too much. Once I found out that it would be easier if I bought ivydreams.com, I tried to do so. Apparently that's asking waaaay too much.

As I'm writing this, I'm listening to the Cubs try to sweep the Pirates....and they do. Cubs Win! Cubs Win! Cubs Win! I'm not that superstitious but I am hoping that me stealing from mlb.com by using my mom's account to listen to games doesn't screw with the baseball gods and hurt the Cubs in the long run. What am I saying? The baseball gods couldn't do much more to interfere with the Cubs winning. Why do I still try to please them? Hubris.

On to today's truths:

1. Derrek Lee is the man.

I love him. I don't care if he is named after a serial killer. The Cubs are breaking my heart, as always. But DLee has been making the season a little more exciting. Last night he brought in all 4 runs with homers. Where did this guy come from? I mean, he leads the NL in homers. Up until the other day, he led in all three triple crown categories. He's still in the top 3 or 4 in all of them. This is what I love about baseball. I love the unsung heroes stepping up when you really need them. Who needs Sammy Sosa? Let's just say he's not leading the AL in anything. More on the great Soso later. I'm really excited for Lee. I hope he can keep it up and that he can get the recognition he deserves.
Disclaimer: this is not a jinx.
Plea: do not put Lee on the front of Sports Illustrated.

2. Star Wars fever is sweeping the workplace.

I can't believe tonight is the night. It's a bittersweet ending for me. This is something that has been a part of me since I was 2 and saw Empire on the hood of my mom's car with my cousin Chris. Apparently I sang a song that went something like, "Me and Chris are going to see the Emp Strikes Back. I hope there aren't any bad guys to scare me, like Darth Vader." My cousin had gotten me into this galaxy, so I called him last night to talk. He says he's read articles about the loss of productivity in America tomorrow due to all the nerds going to midnight movies. The internet will probably crash. I've been watching the other movies this week and talking to people at work. Many of us are going tonight. Some of us went at lunch to get our tickets. There's a feeling of giddiness that doesn't usually exist in this place. Hell, on a good day around here, no one slits their wrists. Hopefully this enthusiasm will spill over into tomorrow when we are brain dead from going to a midnight movie. Anyway, I'm really excited.

Play Ball

2005-05-17T19:55:00.000-05:00

I have no idea what I'm doing. Is it ok that I've said that? It's 2005. Shouldn't I know everything about blogging and the internet in general. Something must be wrong. Besides, I'm 27. I should know what I'm doing. In fact, I should also know what I will be doing in the future. Hmph. I guess I'm a little behind. I do, however, know a few things. These things will be brought to you in a continuing piece called "I hold these truths to be self-evident".

Today's truths:

1. I may live my entire life without seeing the Cubs win the World Series.

What? You mean this isn't our year either? No, I'm not giving up on the season. It's just that with every new injury I start believing in curses a little bit more. This is not a truth I'm happy about, but it's kind of one of those things I need to accept. No! Never! I'm a Cubs fan, dammit. And Cubs fans don't give up, even when logic demands it. Well, at least I lived to see LSU win a Football Championship.

2. What goes around comes around.

Yeah, so maybe this isn't as much of a truth as what we are wishing would happen to the rotten people we encounter on a daily basis. But it's what my dad always told me. And dad's are always supposed to be right. Really, I know there is such a thing as karma. And I'm not just talking about curses and rally caps and jinxes. Well, not just. I believe that I live a little bit of a cursed life. I'm not talking tragically cursed. None of the stuff that happens is tragic. But it sure is frequent and annoying and a little comical. I've often thought that I could have my own Bridget Jonesish book, but I'm too lazy. So here I am.

More to come on "truths", who I am, and why I'm here.