CeeCee has expressed strong interest in using the big-girl potty. My niece has tried to find training pants in a size small enough for CeeCee's tiny-hiney. Seems they don't make training pants in a newborn size. Ha!! Sooooo...I bought some size 2T panties and made alterations to make them fit CeeCee. Ta-da! I looked for some doll panties but couldn't find any. CeeCee's visit to her developmental specialist last week had amazing results. Yeah, yeah, she's in the lower percentiles in physical size but (duh) we knew that. Her other development, though, is months ahead of where she should be even if she hadn't been a preemie. She is one smart and tough little cookie. In tiny pink panties.

 

In Texas, when a funeral procession is on the road, it is a sign of respect to the deceased and their family/friends for other vehicles meeting the procession to pull over to the side of the road and stop until they've passed (excuse the pun). A few years ago it was amended to pulling over until the hearse and family cars have passed. Yesterday I saw evidence that maybe the whole tradition has gone by the wayside (another pun?). Of course, you're not supposed to pull over if it would cause a danger to yourself or others, but in town and on country roads it's not that big a deal to do it. I thought it was kinda sad that we've gotten to a point where we're so wrapped up in ourselves and our own doings that we can't take two minutes to show a little respect for the dead. On the other hand, it shouldn't be surprising that we don't respect the dead when there seems to be less and less respect for self and fellow man.

 

I gotta go get some tomato plants this week. I'm gonna try growin' 'em upside down this year. I got me some plastic buckets and a double shepherd's hook, potting soil, so all I need are the plants. Sounds intriguing. We'll see how it works for me. I'm still learnin' up on the hydroponic gardening, too, but haven't invested any money in equipment. That may be a retirement project. I have to plant at least one tomato plant, though, because that's what Southern women do. (Remember Steel Magnolias? It's really true.)

 

My town has old red brick streets in the older parts of town. I fishtailed all over North Houston Street today on my way home. Holy shit. It was rainin' and all I did was turn onto the street. I wasn't speeding at all but my little Tracker nearly threw me as it bucked its way down the street. Luckily no other cars were nearby. Those bricks are slicker than owl shit when they're wet.

 

The boss is outta town this week. Bonus!! I do believe it'll be baseball on the boss's tv alllll afternoon. Ha!! I just have to remember to pick up any spilled popcorn, knock the dust off his desk where I put my feet, and spray Lysol to get ride of the cigar smell. Hahahahha! I don't smoke cigars. Ha!!

 

White Boy turned in his resignation last week. Oh, well! No more White Boy driving me NUTS. Ha!! He's going to work at a local radio station "producing" some stuff. In other words, the radio station will pick up the feed on a baseball game or something and then Matt will flip a switch to run local ads during the commercial breaks. He's excited, and I'm excited for him. His long term goal is to be in broadcasting. Sooo.... no more Jermizzle and no more White Boy. I told my boss I want to hire a girl this time so I can get some help with the real work. The boys like to do non-office stuff - like go shoot baskets instead of answering the phone - stuff like that. Ha!!

 

Y'all have a good week.

Yesterday the men's basketball coach told me he was bringing a recruit on campus for his official visit. When he got there, the 7' 1" guy was trailed by several people who obviously were not family. Me, ever curious [also known as nosy], asked the kid who all those people were. Turns out they're doing a documentary about this kid's journey from Senegal to the United States to college basketball. We had a laugh when the crew said something and a couple of us had to ask that they repeat (I don't remember what it was). Coach said they use different words so we didn't get what they said. I said, "No, we use the same words - we just say 'em a LOT slower." Seems they had already noticed this on their own. Ha!! The cameras weren't on at the time so I did my "kid here visiting" shpiel. "You'll love it here." "People here really care about you and your future." "Nobody will give you anything but they'll help you earn success any way they can." Today the coach told me the kid was "miked up" constantly. So, I may not be in the video but I might make it to the audio portion. Ha!! I immediately began trying to remember what I had said to the kid and wished it had something profound. During a break, the documentary crew told Coach that of the four campuses they had visited ours had been the most impressive. I'm POSITIVE they did not tell the other three colleges the same thing. Haha!! Crew and Coach also talked about the people at the school and community. Turns out these young New Yorkers were amazed at how nice we [Texans] are to visitors. He told them about the language struggle he and his family went through when they first got here from Iowa. (I gave them directions. Turns out it sounds like "lot" when I say "light." They got lost.)

 

I got an email from a former student today asking if she could bring her children and come for a visit tomorrow. She used to hang out at my house when she went to school here and went on to be Miss Idaho in the mid-1990s. Very beautiful and sweet girl. She married well. Her husband is a recently retired NBA player. She hasn't been back for a long time and I'm very excited that she's coming to visit. I began stressing that my house is crap and it's not immaculately clean. I mean, they just built a million-dollar home with change they found in the sofa cushions. Then, it dawned on me, she remembers and loves me for me - not my house, not my little vehicle, etc.. My house was just fine for her before she married and, by God, it's good enough for her now. They will be staying at a hotel because I don't have enough beds to accommodate everyone. Other than that, they can take me as I am or leave me alone... (Although I think I will scrub the typhoid out of the toilet.)

 

I have a severe case of Spring Fever. I yawn all day, have even less energy than usual (which means I pretty much sit as still as a statue), and I DO NOT want to be at the office. I just want to be at home. Maybe piddlin' around but maybe not. Maybe reading or watching tv but maybe not. In other words, I don't KNOW what I want to be doing - but WOW do I know what I DO NOT want to be doing. Ha!!!

 

Spring is so awesome. The weather has been gorgeous, the flowers and blooming trees are fabulous - LOVE IT!! It's worth every sneeze. Hahahaha!!!

 

Chore time. Later!!

YECH. PA-TOOEY. BLEAH!!! Today was my first day back at work after a two-week vacation. I read a book on Saturday evening into the wee hours of Sunday morning, and forced myself to get up by 9:00 a.m.. Then I wouldn't allow myself the luxury of a nap on Sunday afternoon because I wanted to BE SURE I could go to sleep Sunday night. I was like a zombie all frickin' day. Best laid plans... I tossed and turned, turned and tossed last night. It's been that way every Sunday night since January. I think it stems from my decision not to retire in December after that having been my plan since August, 1995. Ha! The rest of the week will be fine. It's just the dread on Sunday night of another work week. Once I'm there it's fine and dandy. It's weird. I'm weird.

 

I started a new book yesterday. It's Rhett Butler's People, the story of Rhett Butler's life before Gone With the Wind. So far the story is good; however, I'm driving myself NUTS because I can't just read the damn book. I'm playing it out in my head as if I'm watching a prequel to GWTW and I'm reading it with a Charleston (Chollston) accent - Rhett Butler talks like Clark Gable in my mind. Grrrr... It's gonna take me longer to read the book since I'm doing the dramatic interpretation in my head. Usually I skim through boring parts but you just can't skim with a Chollston accent. Ha!

 

Timber was SO glad to see me this afternoon. He got used to me being at home a lot and stayed right up my butt most of the time. I guess he was afraid I'd fart and he wouldn't get to smell any of it. Although, if I HAD farted I would probably have blown his head off. Seriously, he stayed right with me. Anyway, I went to the backyard and played soccer/fetch with him for awhile and then I put a leash on him and practiced walking him. We used to go walking at the football field but the damn dog pulled me down a coupla times when he would see something he wanted to check out QUICKLY. Luckily I fell in the grass both times so wasn't hurt but if I take him walking around the neighborhood I would be falling on paved streets. Ow. So we're "in training" for the streets. He did not like having to walk beside me. He's smart, though - he'll catch on. Step 1: The backyard. Step 2: The alley. Step 3: The street. {gulp}

 

Okay, my sweet little baseball player tested positive for alcohol (it's a drug, too, you know - and he's a minor). This wouldn't be such a "deal" with me but the kid swore to me he didn't drink - I guess he thought he was saying what I wanted to hear, I don't know. Anyway, he had told some of the other kids that he had gotten shitfaced the weekend before and would probably test positive. Duh. But when he had his conference with coach he swore he had not had any liquor but had enjoyed a huge piece of his grandmother's wine cake. Nope, that wouldn't register the high number. Next story - Dayquil. Nope, that wouldn't register the high number and Dayquil doesn't have the alcohol content as it is non-drowsy. Next story - Nyquil, yeah, Nyquil, that's what he meant! Nope, you woulda made yourself sick if you drank that much Nyquil. (His numbers were really high.) Coach is upset the kid drank after signing a no-drug/no-alcohol contract with the team. I'm upset because the little bastard lied to me. He came by to cry on my shoulder but I told him to make himself scarce until I got over being so angry with him. I think it's time for me to visit with him now. He's gonna have to grow some, man up, and take his punishment. He's making a fool of himself by denying the test. We even gave him the benefit of the doubt and had it redone and asked the lab about his stories. He's gonna wind up kicked off the team instead of just a short suspension if he doesn't 'fess up. He's a sweet kid but I could tell right away he's full o' shit because he talks fast and always has a justification, reason, etc, for whatever he says that I question. Like a stereotypical slimy salesman of some sort.

 

Okay, four more days to the weekend! Woo-hoo!!!!!

 

 

 

 

For the best viewing of the above, turn the volume up on your speakers. I know, this song is billed as a Christmas song but to me it fits at least as well for Easter, maybe even better. I watch this video year-round when I'm feeling really blah. Ahhhhhh, I can hear the cynics muttering under their collected breath, I see the eyes rolling, and the spat-out PFFT. It's your prerogative [oh, is it Hammer time?] to believe or not but I absolutely recommend doing a little research on it before you totally rule it out. Personally, I've found that without faith in a higher power I have no faith in myself. I tend to simplify everything, but to me it's like having my own cheering section, my own comforting presence in difficult times. And it keeps me from being shittier than I am - I know...scary thought. Please don't let a bad experience with a particular religion, congregation, or family reaction to religion keep you from finding your own higher power. I would stink as an Apostle because I can't answer questions about Christianity, or quote scriptures, and I seldom darken the door of a church building. I can tell you how I feel about my faith, and I can tell you that I've felt God's presence in the NICU when CeeCee was born, and I can tell you how comforting is a religion that guarantees I'll see my parents again. Wordnet describes faith as a strong belief in a supernatural power or powers that control human destiny. I don't totally agree with that - I believe my faith gives me the foundation for thought and behavior that helps me control my own destiny, and supports me when/if I take a misstep. I guess I should have titled this blog "MizAngie's Easter Message." Humor me, it's my frickin' blog. [Why do I cuss even when discussing religion? Jesus is the perfect one, not me. Not me by a long-shot.]

 

On another aspect of Easter, my niece and nephews have decided not to hunt eggs this year. On one hand I'm thinking "sheesh, about time!" but on the other hand it's the end of an era so it's a little sad. I stopped hunting eggs when I was somewhere around 8-9. I don't really remember. I stopped when my parents stopped making my poor sister (five years my senior) hunt with me so I wouldn't have to do it by myself. My niece and nephews are early thirties and mid twenties. Ha!!! Granted, their hunting was crazy enough to be an event in the X-Games with pushing and shoving and fighting over money-eggs. They decided to NOT hunt eggs this year because (1) they all have children of their own now, and (2) they don't have access to a big enough egg-hiding place. I think #2 had more to do with their decision than did #1. My sister-in-law was hoping that this means they won't have to dye as many eggs but I doubt it. Those kids reallllly enjoy holiday festivities they do together.

 

I called and talked to my nephew-in-law this morning to tell the family I was gonna stay home. He told me that he and CeeCee have been in training for Easter-egg hunting. Good grief. He explained that he would take things to the backyard and hide them, and then take CeeCee out with her basket to find them. The only problem with her training was that once she put the items in her basket she would take them back out and throw them as far as she could. I hope they're hard-boiling the eggs...

 

One year when I was egg-hunting age, we couldn't figure out why we came up 6-7 eggs short at the end of the hunt. Moth...umm...the Easter Bunny usually had a good memory of where she...ummm...he hid the eggs. It only took one look at the dog with pastel-colored "lips" to figure out what happened to the eggs. Ha! Another year we found a huge chicken snake with a boiled egg halfway down his gullet. That was weird, and the rest of the hunt my Mother followed me around randomly shrieking, "Oh GOD be careful reaching in there to get that egg!" Mother was terrified of snakes, and so was I by the time we finished that egg hunt. {Find egg, reach in, Mother shrieks, I jump. Very traumatic.}

 

I hope each of you finds the prize egg. To me, Y'ALL are ALL prize eggs!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In an obvious weak attempt at humor I sarcastically said I was moving to New York so I could get laid. It was a JOKE. My sarcasm was directed at recent sex scandals in the lives of NY state government officials. Now, I would hate to accuse people of skimming through my blog without paying a whole lot of attention, but... BUSTED???! Hahahhahahha!! Nope, my happy ass will stay right here in the Lone Star State (Texas). I'm not THAT anxious to get laid. Well... NO, NO I'm not.

 

I did a semi-shitty thing today. While I was power-washing the front of my house my neighbor kinda stumbled across the street, Scotch in hand. I mentally rolled my eyes but he and his wife are very nice people so I smiled and we began chatting. He must've been lonely (and tipsy) because he stayed and stayed and...you get the picture. And he was kinda touchy-feely. Ugh. When he went to fix himself another drink I hastily put up the powerwasher. After that drink he was getting reallllly chatty but finally left to go mow his yard. I say, "I need to call my lawn guy." After which my neighbor went and got his mower and said he was gonna mow my yard. I knew he would. I had chatted up that poor drunk bastard, telling dirty jokes and allowing an occasional touch on the arm/shoulder, just to see if I could get a free lawn-mowing out of it. It worked. I should be shot but it would be a waste of a good bullet.

 

I went to a nursery this morning and got 12 6" pots of red geraniums, a Boston fern, and an asparagus fern for $50. So now my windowbox is decked out in red, the yard is mowed, and I have pretty hanging ferns at the corner of the house and in the magnolia tree. The white siding is white again instead of splotched with mildew and green with pine pollen. Whew! I bet more people mow their yards in the days preceding Easter than any other time. Well, maybe I should say I bet more Christians mow their yards in the days preceding Easter than any other time. You know, for Easter egg hunting.

 

This is the time of year when my eyeballs turn wrong-side out from watching so much basketball on television. NCAA, NIT...awesome. I usually pull for the lesser seeds unless I have a dog in the fight. It's frustrating to see referees favoring the higher seeds from the big-time universities. I usually like Duke, but it would have been awesome to see Belmont beat them yesterday in a Sampson & Goliath matchup.

 

I got pissed watching the news this evenin'. We had a few small tornadoes last week. Some tin roofs were blown off barns and mobile homes and several trees were uprooted, falling across some houses. They interviewed a woman today who had a tree fall on her house. She was irate, questioning what the government is going to do to help her. I am SO TIRED of this mentality. When the tree fell on my house did I ask the government to come fix it? Noooo...I used the insurance that I pay premiums for every month. It was difficult to come up with the deductible, but it had to be done. If ya want the government to take care of everything, perhaps you should move to a communist country. Or a socialist country. Just a thought.

 

And I'm also sick of someone taking offense to everything a political candidate says. Doesn't matter which party or which candidate - someone will twist it and spin it trying to rile folks up. The candidates may be trying to make themselves look good by belittling the others but all it's doing for me is making me consider not voting for any of 'em.

 

I am in the last few days of my two week vacation. Shit. I've reallllly enjoyed my time off. I could get used to this...

 

 

That's what my mother used to sing to me when I was frettin' about stuff.

I've been telling myself (or singing this to myself) for a few days now. I'm kinda in a state of flux wondering about my future, etc.. I can't decide what to do about a coupla things because I can't tell about the future, but the decisions will have everything to do with that future. Shitballs.

 

And the elections. Ugh. I'm sick of all the lyin' and cheatin' and contradictin' and analyzin' - and it's a looooong time until November. I am definite about one damn thing, though. It oughta be against the law that politicians can use taxpayer money to go visit war zones. All it does is cost tons of money, is a headache for soldiers due to security issues, and puts our soldiers in greater danger when they have to thin out in one place to provide ample security for the visitors (targets). And the only reason politicians go over there is for campaign purposes - photo ops mainly. It's bullshit. McCain's recent visit to Iraq clinched my feelings about this issue but there have been many others who have gone that didn't need to. And I'm movin' to New York state. I think my chances of getting laid might be higher there - unless I have to be governor first. Forget it if that's the case. I don't wanna be governor. I prefer being queen.

 

I had to go renew my driver's license today. I waited ten minutes in a line where I was given a number to wait in another line. Holy shit. All totaled I was there about an hour. Once it was my turn it only took a coupla minutes to check my eyes, get my fingerprints, and take a new picture. I was entertained, though, by the several people having personal conversations (loudly) on their cell phones. And when I was finished they provided a cigarette for me to smoke. I don't smoke, but I had to inhale second hand smoke as I came out of the building from the 4-5 guys standing RIGHT IN THE DAMN DOOR smoking. I was wheezing by the time I got to the car.

 

We had some monster storms around here tonight. I always worry when there's lightening because, well, I'm not a very nice person so expect to get struck any day now. My chances of getting struck by lightening are way better than the odds of me winning the lottery. {sigh} Or, as a "friend" pointed out the other day, of me finding a husband. Ha!! [Sorry, couldn't help a little craaaaazy old-maid humor.]

 

I'm off to Snoozeland. Later, Y'all.

 

 

Last week I invited a visiting basketball parent to ride to the conference tourney with me. She had flown in from Canada to see her son play his last game(s) with us. VERY nice lady but I noticed an accent that didn't sound Canadian or French Canadian, so I asked what I was hearing. She was originally from Scotland and although she's lived in Canada for 25 years she still has the rhythm of the Scottish accent. It's fabulous. When I hear someone from Ireland or Scotland speak it gives me the feeling that I'm hearing someone from "home." I don't know why other than my Mother used to talk about how my grandfather's ancestors came from Ireland and I was born on St. Patrick's Day so all my parties had an Irish theme. My apologies to any Irish or Scottish readers for lumping the two together - but if you live in East Texas and talk s'slow you can see paint dry between words, then the rhythmic languages sound very similar.

 

Thoughts of Scotland remind me of the blogger buddy who unplugged from his space and all of us who cared so much for him and his family. I still miss him terribly. I worry about him. Most of all I wonder why on earth he vanished on us. In the overall scope of things it doesn't really matter to my daily grind. I mean, life goes on with or without the respite of enjoyable conversation or the knowledge that I have one more friend "somewhere out there." I find it extremely ironic that he once told me that he feared "letting down" or disappointing his friends yet that was exactly what happened when he pulled the plug. It's also very aggravating to allow someone into my heart only to have it thrown back as if it didn't matter. Aggravating and hurtful. But he just didn't seem like that kind of person, which is why I worry about him. So many unanswered questions... As a pessimist I can't help but think that he was having some heavy-duty issues that really got him down to the point that he just couldn't "share" anymore. I wish I were an optimist so I could go with the theory that, "How great - we've helped him deal and now he's moving on." Pffft.

 

Luckily I have lots of other friends to help fill the void of losing one. One friend can't really replace another because each person has their own traits that draw me to them. When I think about all my friends on spaces I get tickled because there is such a variety of personalities. I feel certain that if I lived next door to some of my friends I would never visit with them to the extent that I do online. Knowing that adds to the strangeness of the internet phenomenon. Why such distrust or fear of people physically close but so willing to listen and share with people outside my realm of daily life? Am I living vicariously through my online friends? Do I like my physical comfort zone so quiet that I keep out anyone who doesn't do as I do and think as I think? Ummmmm....yes, I'm pretty sure I do both of those things. I have thick, tall walls built around me (emotionally speaking). I think this developed throughout my childhood as we moved fairly frequently from one small town/school to another. In a small place, if you don't make the "right"  friends it can be disastrous socially. I learned to be friendly to everyone but to hold back until I could tell who belonged to which group. When I learned the popular group, that was the one I eased my way into. They're the ones elected to all the honors, etc.. I was almost chameleon-like in my ability to fit in wherever we moved. It has served me well in some aspects, but has also put a lot of bricks in those walls. As you can read between the lines, I did NOT rebel as a teenager. Ha!! My twenties, however, were a different story...

 

I was so excited when I thought I was going to meet one of my blogger friends. I've been reading her blog since I first began blogging. But I was also terrified. I wasn't worried that she wouldn't be a nice person or anything like that - I was terrified that I wouldn't measure up to her expectations. Probably because I don't measure up to my own expectations. Although fearful of the encounter I was also highly disappointed when things didn't work out for us to meet. One part of me can't wait til she and her husband visit my part of the world again, but part of me still freaks out at the thought. Ha!! I have another friend who lives real close to where CeeCee lives and I never get brave enough to call for a meeting. One of these days...

 

Ramble, ramble, ramble. I guess that's probably enough self-analysis for a Saturday morning. I need to take a shower and get on with the day but I can't until I wash & dry a load of towels. Ha!! This is an excellent way to build in necessary procrastination. Y'all have a good weekend!!

 

 

 

 

I'm back from my 3-day trip to Dallas. Be it ever so humble...  I look forward to sleepin' in my own bed, pissin' in my own pot, and watchin' my own tv while holding my very own remote. Ha!!

 

I used a different route on my trip home today. I went through the country as opposed to down the interstate. The scenery was nice, but I didn't much like having to slow down or stop through all the little towns I passed through. Time traveled worked out about the same, though. It was a change. I guess I was sent that way on purpose today because I stopped and helped a little old lady whose car ran outta gas. I passed her at first but she looked distressed and nobody else had stopped. I turned around and went back but told her about the best I could do was let her use my cell phone to call someone and then wait with her until they got there, but she couldn't think of anyone she could call. She was sure she just ran out of gas and felt bad that she had not stopped and put some gas in instead of trying to make it home. So I told her I would take her to the next town and help her get some gas, take her back to her car, etc. In days gone by you could borrow a gas can from the fillin' station on your word that you would return it but now there aren't even any damn old-school fillin' stations, much less one that will loan a gas can. We ended up having to go to an auto parts store to buy a gas can and it cost $10!!! Highway robbery! But we got it, got the gasoline, and went back to her car. One of her sons pulled up just as we got there as he just happened by on the well-traveled route. He was so hateful to her! I wanted to box his ears. Ha! The lady wanted my name and address so she could return the money we spent but I told her not to worry about it, "Put the money in the collection plate at church, or pass it on to the next person you meet who needs a helping hand." Believe me, the feeling I got helping this nice lady was payment enough. And besides that, I've been a shit lately so I need to do a few good deeds to wipe all that out of my karma. And, well, who knows when I'll be sitting on the side of the road in need of help?

 

I picked Timber up from Genny's (his girlfriend whose alpha male in her family is the baseball coach) and he is worn smack-dab out! Genny was in heat this week and he has been chasing the scent for three solid days. Poor little feller. He's plum tuckered out and is passed out on his dog bed. Coach and his family are so kind to dogsit for me so I can go spend time with my peeps.

 

Addie and CeeCee both call me "Auntie" now. It's awesome. They say it so cutely! CeeCee is like watching a bucket of worms - constantly on the move. Addie doesn't walk very much - she DANCES! It's soooo funny to see her bopping around. She has excellent rhythm for a 19-month old! She has a little gap between her front teeth and everytime she smiles at me I just melt. (I have a little gap, too!) I enjoyed my visit with both baby girls and their parents. They are ALL exceptionally beautiful and brilliant people. I'm sure I'm not even the least bit partial! The other night the "old" nieces and nephews were playing frisbee as we cooked out and I realized I was telling them things like, "Ohhhh, good catch!" or "Whoa!! You almost missed that one." In other words, I was the cheering section/audience combo. I asked them, "Have y'all noticed that I use the same tone of voice for you big lugs as I do for the baby girls?" I got a chorus of "So?" "And?" "Isn't that an aunt thang?" "Of course you do!" Okay, just checkin'.

 

It snowed here last weekend...it's supposed to be 90 degrees tomorrow. Niiiiiice. I would imagine we've seen the last of the cold weather although I did notice that horses and cows still have their winter coats, as does Timber. That may mean at least one more cold snap. Wait and see.

 

SO good to visit with my loved ones. SO good to be back home.

My niece sent me this story about CeeCee:

How funny is that? Less than two years old and she's already effin' with folks. Ha! I can't imagine where she gets such a trait. You may be thinking that she's just a baby and she hasn't learned these things very well yet...but you didn't see the look in her eyes. Ha! She knew exactly what she was doing and saying. Little toot. She is somethin' else. Her vocabulary is growing by leaps and bounds since she got tubes put in her ears. Plus she's gaining weight and growing like a weed. She supplemented her usual diet yesterday with a couple of handfuls of potting soil as she helped her Mama plant some flowers. I'd hate to see THAT diaper. Yech. They planted a bunch of flowers and then it snowed today. Oh, well. Crazy-ass Texas weather...

 

Athletics (or athletes) attracts a lot of people who want to attach themselves somehow. I don't know if it's the persona of a physically fit, confident athlete that attracts them, or if it's some sort of "gang mentality" that makes most of us want to belong in a group or family. The games become a social event. The athletes, referees, coaches, and action provide ready-made topics of conversation with the stranger sitting next to you. For such a small college, we have more than our share of "characters" that have attached themselves to our programs:

 

Glenn is a 50-year-old retarded guy with breath that would wake a hibernating bear. He's a sweet ol' guy but sometimes he'll just wear us out talking and talking and talking. He rides his bike to all the events. We give him free passes, tshirts, hats. He talks to the kids as if he's one of them because, in his mind, he is an athlete, too. He participates in every Special Olympic event/sport there is. We think he may be idiot savant - we give him a sports schedule and it's no time before he has it memorized and can tell us what day and time and opponent we will play. It's amazing, actually. For the most part the kids are kind to him. I've never actually seen anyone be mean to him. Dodge him - YES. Mean? NO. He's like a puppy...you would have to be heartless and warped to be mean to Glenn.

 

Ollie is an old guy who says he's a retired basketball coach from Chicago. He started showing up in our gym a year or so ago. Something is wrong with his legs and he shuffles along teeter-tottering on the edge of balance. He looks like he's probably in pain on some days but we don't ask. It's important to Ollie to be in the gym. I get the feeling he is most comfortable there as it, and basketball, were his life for so long. He writes up workouts for the kids who accept them graciously, thank him, and then toss them when he's out of sight. I asked the coaches about his "workout" and they told me they are so basic that you could use them for a Little Dribblers team. No harm, no foul. At the games he walks around the gym talking to people, telling them how he knows the kids and helps them with their workouts. He would be aggravating if his situation weren't so sad. He would be lonely if he didn't hang out with us. Realizing all that doesn't keep me from marking my territory sometimes, though. Last week he stuck his head in my door and snapped an order at me to print out directions to our next game for him. I raised my eyebrows and told him I would when he asked me nicely and said please, which he did with an apology. Some warped need to boss inside me had to remind him whose gym he's in.

 

Vernon loves the kids. He brings them little prizes of candy or snacks. In fact, he brings a big bag of crap to most of the games. Food was probably his comfort and reward most of his life so that's how he expresses affection as well as giving him a vehicle for attention. (It's part odd, part ironic, part sad that he does this as he should be aware that using food this way can harm your health. You see, Vernon weighed in around 400 lbs before gastric bypass helped him lose about half his bodyweight.) Vernon tells us over and over that he doesn't do nice things to get thanks or special attention, yet if he doesn't get thanks and special attention his feelings become hurt. He's a very sensitive man. I hate it when his feelings get hurt, but I also want to tell him to get over himself.

 

The Usuals are a group of 4-5 retired couples who come to all of the home basketball games. They have to have exactly the same seats every season. I'm not sure if they would come to the games if they couldn't sit in the seats they've had for God-knows how many years. The Usuals like to watch basketball, but their most fun comes from questioning coaches and referee decisions. If a play works it's exactly the one they would have called; if it doesn't they never would have called such a play, they would have called blah blah blah. It's funny. They're all very nice people.

 

Me. The Queen of the Gym. I sit in my own usual spot (second row, upper level) and hold court. Even if people don't know my name most know who I am. The second row is high enough to see the game, low enough to be able to speak to people. I like belonging, too. And it's always good to be Queen. Ha! At the football and soccer games I sit on the sidelines. Not everybody can sit on the sideline, you know. I'm special. I'm somebody. I'm at least a medium-sized fish in a very small pond. Or maybe I'm just bait. Hmm...

 

I won't even get into The Game Staff for the gym. Holy cow. They're a blog unto themselves. Ha! Talk about characters!!!

 

We're all definitely a bunch o' characters. We have our own little world where we like to believe we have a niche. I sit on my perch in the gym at the games and watch all the characters knowing, but not liking to admit, that I am one, also. But I don't think it matters how big our pond is - only that we're in one with other fish. 

 

My boss (AND MAY I SAY HE'S THE BEST BOSS EVER IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD) was reading a friend's blog which had a link to my blog so I've been "outed." Well, you know, bloggily speaking only. I'm pretty sure the color drained (excuse the pun - he'll understand) out of my face when he said, "Hey, I read your blog!" "Wh-what?" {GULP} I had that feeling you get when you realize someone is staring at you and you can't remember if you were picking your nose or not. I may have to shut this blog down and start a new one. It was bad enough that my family knew about this one, but my BOSS? Besides, if I can't talk about my family or my work, what is there to talk about? Ha!

 

We finished the Tournament from Hell, and it really was. Sheesh! Our gym holds 2,500 people. I'd say we probably had, ummm, 2,700 in there last night. It was scary. We had to lock the front doors and tell the crowd that if they left the gym for any reason they would not be allowed back in (because if you opened a door a mob tried to force their way in). The smokers were so pissed! But if the fire marshall asks, there were only 2,500. Ha!! One good thing is that the game wasn't close so the losing team fans began leaving right after halftime, clearing out part of the crowd. Okay, I have a confession. Remember ol' blind grandma from my last blog? Well, they really did bring her. Eighty-seven years old, drooling down the front of herself, oblivious to all around her, but her daughter (probably 70 herself) rolled her up to the door at about 5:30 for an 8:00 game. As the crowd gathered they rolled grandma closer to the doors, and as more and more people gathered they were reallllly crowding ol' grandma's chair. I thought, "These assholes are gonna crush blind grandma, or someone is gonna get shoved into her wheelchair and injured." No kidding, these people were like animals. So I cratered and let blind grandma into the gym early. Then I felt guilty as hell because they were so frickin' grateful and told people how nice I was to let them in. Shit. If they only knew! The daughter told me that people think she's crazy (gee, ya think?) for bringing her mother to the games..."she may not remember it thirty minutes after we leave, but while we're here she's excited and laughing and having fun, so I'll bring her as long as she gets enjoyment." OH, LADY, JUST SHOOT ME. Shoot me for all the hateful thoughts I've had in the past two days about you dragging this old woman out in these crowds, etc. {SIGH}

 

Speaking of the fire marshall, this morning I heard firetruck sirens close by. I listened to see how far away the fire might be from my house. Imagine my surprise when the sirens and trucks stopped outside MY house. What??? But then they scooted up to a house two doors down. An old couple lives there but their visiting 13-year old grandson was sneaking a smoke in the garage and dropped a match in an old recliner. Dumbass. The wind is blowing hard here today so I was worried a spark might make it's way to my old roof, but they put the fire out before it got big enough to be very dangerous. I feel sorry for this kid. He doesn't have much guidance, I don't think; mom has kids from three different men none of whom she's been married to, aunt is a crackhead, dad isn't around much. Sad.

 

One week til Spring Break, overtime check by Friday - things are lookin' great. So I'm worrying that something bad is going to happen. Anytime I feel this good something happens to turn my world to shit. We'll see, I guess...

 

Have a good week!