The Hawkeye

Well, I was in love. I saw him on Tuesday, after a rather brutal workout with my trainer. Actually, I'd seen him around the gym sometime before that, when he was taking off his shirt. But then when I looked away and back again, he was gone. So I thought he was the Phantom hot guy. I was pleasantly surprised on Tuesday when I saw him in real life and up close.

So, I decided to say hello and give him a hard time because he was wearing a Hawkeye shirt and the Badgers just beat the pants off of them. We quickly bonded because he actually went to Iowa (and played football there!!!) and I went to old CC. AND we're both Packers fans. Anyway, we'd been talking for a little while, when some people needed to get by us. And here's where the oddness happened. In order to let them pass, he went into the office that was behind him. But, instead of backing in (his back was in the doorway), he turned around and went in. Then he stayed in there for an oddly long time. So, I walked away. And then, after I walked away, I wondered if maybe he wasn't ending the conversation after all. But I was already gone. And then I couldn't find him when I came out of the locker room. So, that's how our great conversation ended.

Ah well. I guess it's just as well anyway. Martamack told me today that I have no shot with the hot trainer. Actually, what he said was that I only had a 1:150 shot, and why should I even try if I'm competing with girls who spend hours upon hours in the gym. AND if there are any of the Asian persuasion, I should really forget about it. AND he said that I really shouldn't bother because there are so many pretty women out there that the Hawkeye would have to choose from. So, the moral of the story is I shouldn't bother.

Open Call

With all the activity I had going on last weekend, I'd forgotten about what weekends are really like for me. Last night, I was prepared to stay in, because I had a busy day of working out and errands planned. And, I thought I'd be going out with the SiQ tonight. However, the SiQ decided to make a stop downstate first, before coming up to the Chi. So, here I am, ready to go out, and yet instead I'm blogging.

I knew this is what I'd be doing early on in the evening. I stopped by the library around 4, and figured I'd get a book to read tonight, but I forgot my library card. Then, when I went to the grocery store, I picked up a frozen pizza, because I knew I wasn't going out to dinner. And then, the final straw, at 8, I went upstairs to grab the nail polish remover, cotton balls, and the nail polish to give myself a pedicure. All this, because I knew I wasn't going out.

The sad thing is, sometimes I make plenty of effort, texting people and trying to get plans together. But, rarely do people ever call me to go out. Though I have friends, they're all too attached, too old, too busy with family, blah blah blah they are NOT partiers. Or, in the alternative, they don't go out clubbing, but prefer bars, and therefore got sick of me turning them down and so never call me. Today is not one of those days where I'm making effort though. Today, I'm participating in a social experiment to see if anyone will call me to see what's shaking. But, I know the answer. That would be nothing.

So, what's a gal to do? Well, this gal is probably going to start expanding her friend circle. To people who prefer to be out rather than in on the weekends. Oh, and people who prefer to go out and look cute rather than go to bars where looks aren't that important. Because honestly? I have too many darn cute clothes to be in my pjs at 9pm on a Saturday night.

Worth it?

Prep classes plus registration fee -- $99.00
8 sessions with personal trainer -- $352.00
Living broke for weeks to attempt another team try-out --- priceless?

Hippy Dippy White Guys

And while I'm on the subject of hippy dippy white guys...who the hell decided these men were attractive? And now they're everywhere. Seriously, that giant dude from that idiotic movie "40 Year-Old Virgin." Who later carried the movie I couldn't bring myself to watch "Knocked Up." And then Jack Black. And, goodness help me Will Ferrell. Gaaaaaah.

Seriously, I"m not sure which is worse, saggy pants or the idiotic curly 'fros made allegedly popular. Wait, I take that back. They both make me want to settle down with a nice gay man.

Confessions of an eL rider

So, there I am, standing on an awfully crowded train, trying to avoid eye contact with a hippy dippy white dude with a curly fro and a knapsack. Meanwhile, he's singing to himself, without an ipod. But, that's what public transportation is for right?

Anyway, what happens at my third stop out, is some chick he knows gets on the train. Who woulda thunk it? Apparently said chick and the hippy dippy white guy haven't seen each other in ages. So they're catching up, and the rest of us gain all kinds of insight into the hippy dippy white guy. Apparently, not only does he look like a hippy, but he also gets high like one. Apparently, he started doing crack since he last saw her. Him and his dad used to get high on it together. He and his mom used to get high on meth. So, once you start crack, it's really hard to stop. AND, his dad has decided to stop. (Bummer). Also, he isn't staying at the hostel anymore, instead he's sleeping in a local park. Unfortunately, we weren't graced with anymore of the catching up, because the hippy dippy white guy and said chick got off at the next stop. She actually asked him if she could "walk with him." Hello, random?!

Now, here's the part that makes this hilarious. He was neither joking, nor tragic. He was completely proud of it. I suspect he may have even been proud of it. He told it the way most people would describe the 4 years they spent in college. The girls I was exchanging pointed looks with were equally as disappointed as I. We spent 1/2 of the time to the next stop musing over how random the conversation was, and how it ranked as far as all time most awesome eL conversations we'd (shamelessly) eavesdropped on. And THAT's when I decided to blog about it.

Nope

That's the answer to the question you've been dying to know. I did not make the dance team. Of course, I guess there's bound to be at least one dance try out that I have where I don't make the team right?

The sad thing is, I totally thought I nailed it. And, moves-wise, I may have. But, just before they made the announcement, the director came in and said that for the people who didn't make it, it may have been any number of reasons why -- personality, etc. She even said "maybe you look exactly like another girl." That was the official moment that I got worried. There was an uber-awesome girl who, from far away, looked exactly like me. Crap! No, she wasn't talking to me, but for goodness' sake, how could I think anything other than that meant both of us weren't going to make it? This was sad, because that chick is awesome. I'd practiced with her on Thursday, and I really wanted us both to make it so we could hang out. Had she gone to Cornell, she def. woulda been an m-te. I was already planning to invite her to the next m-te vacation.

Anyway, I was standing there, with my parents and 2 friends, when my name was definitely not announced. (Hers was, for your FYI). So, here I am, not on a(nother) pro dance team.

So my mother, ever the optimist, spends the next 45 minutes or so deciding that I'm going to go ahead and try out for the team I'd originally planned on trying out for in October. Meanwhile, I'm bummed AND feeling less than confident about my skillz. Well, my mother is stubborn. (A trait that's hereditary, incidentally. I'll never admit to being stubborn (ha!), but everyone agrees that my g-ma was.) And so, despite the many many valid reasons I had for not trying out, my mother has gone so far as to offer to pay for the entrance fee and the prep classes. Oy.

But she can't make me go, right? On the other hand, am I really that much of a baby? (Yes.)

Funny, every time I went to practice for this last dance team, I passed the stadium for the other one. I definitely found myself thinking how nice it would be not to have drive so far. One time, I even said to myself "If I was on that team, I'd be home by now." I also remember wondering to myself whether I'd not be picked on Saturday as a sign from God that I should be on the other. Hmmm. All things to think about.

Some good news, though, my neck doesn't hurt anymore! Squee!!! And my body didn't feel completely torn up this morning. Squee!!!! Guess I was just rusty before, which means, I AM NOT OLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Take that martamack.)

Tragedy on Belmont

So, as I said yesterday, I went to a play with friends, and the guy they're making a minor attempt to set me up with. (Remember, the one who may be a bit dim?) Anyway, I arrived at the theatre after they did, because I was busy purchasing new split sole dance sneakers. So when I got there, I arrived alone. As I'm walking into the auditorium, an extremely handsome man said "Excuse me....what's your name?" So I say, "pheebee." He says "I'm Darryl. Let's sit together." All of this was executed with extreme Billy Dee Williams suaveness. I was very impressed with his boldness, and the simplicity of the line.

Anyhoo, I'm all set to agree, but I tell him that I can't because my friends have brought someone I'm supposed to be set up with. But, I tell him, let's meet up during intermission. (Did I mention he was handsome AND bold AND suave?!)

Now, here's the tragic part of the story. Once I sat down, and looked at the program, I was devastated to find out that there was no intermission. BLAST! My friend said that's what I get for being greedy. But I wasn't being greedy! I was just leaving my options open ;). Sad times. Maybe I'll see him around...it's possible right?

Shake what your momma gave ya! or Man! I am old!

Ok, so we know I decided to try out for a local sports dance team. And we knew I had a few months to get my arse in gear, as well as buy dance shoes, stretch, etc. Well, what we didn't know was the power of google. I'm tooling about the internet, looking for various dance tryout websites, trying to get the upper hand. Well, one of my searches turns up a dance team try out for Saturday. As in, yesterday. So what do I do? I decide to try out, on a whim. It was Thursday, so somebody hit the panic button!

Ok, Thursday night, I'm emailing the Director to find out if it's too late to sign up. Friday morning, I wake up at the crack of dawn, so I check my email. The director emails me the night before, and says it's cool. Alright, it's Friday, and I have no shoes. Sweet. I spend the day trying to find a store that sells used dance shoes, to no avail. Ok, it's 6:36 p.m. I'm supposed to be meeting up with some friends to see a play (more on that on a later date). I've found a local dance store that sells new dance shoes....and they close at 7pm. Well, I drive a Mustang right? (just ask Rubix, HA!). Let's let her out. I'm praying-while-driving, passing on the right, speeding, cruising, and illegally parked, but I made it just after the store closed. But, having called before, I think they were feeling generous and held the doors open 5 minutes later than they would have. So, I've got brand new ($60 - yikes!) dance shoes.

So, it's Saturday, a.m. I'm required to bring a picture of myself to the audition. On Friday night, I go online and have one sent to Walgreens. It was supposed to be ready by 11:30 p.m. Friday night. Naturally, it wasn't ready when I went to Walgreens at 7:05 a.m. the next morning. *Sigh* Oh well, she's able to print it (with plenty of attitude) right then and there. So I'm on the road by 715.

Now, the fun begins. For those that don't know, when the tryout information page tells you to bring a lunch, they mean it. When they say plan to be there all day, they mean it. The teaching started at 9:15. We broke for lunch at 12:15. What sucks about that is they don't say it out loud, but the judging starts at 915. (I can prove it too, a bunch of people were cut at lunch). Anyway, around 1030, I hurt so much I thought I was going to die. But, I figured, I just bought $60 shoes, so I'd better go all the way. Between the hurting various body parts, and the fact that more than half the people there were younger than me (including one chick who had braces and was dropped off by her dad), I felt old for the first time in my life. Ouch.

After a series of cuts, I've made it to the final round, which will be held next Saturday. It's open to the public, so come on out!!!! The more people that are cheering for me, the hotter the judges will think I am. ;) (I'm all about using every advantage I've got baby!)

Set Up

Ok, because I know you're all dying to know how the set-up went. I thought I'd post a little bit of an update. So here goes...

As you may or may not be aware, this wasn't a date. It was just a bunch of people getting together at a barbecue; my friend just happened to have invited the two of us. Er...three of us. The cute guy brought a cute friend. They were both single, and I was both single. So, here's the report.

Original cute guy: Hmm. Didn't really prove or disprove his reputation of being somewhat, ahem, dim. I'm not saying the boy is dumb. I'm just saying he didn't say anything all that profound either. But, on the other hand, neither did anyone else. It was a day full of inane chatter...but in a good way. He did talk a lot of smack about bagg-o. I think we all know that I enjoy a wisearse. So, all in all, he was pleasant. Although I'm not entirely convinced we have anything in common.

Cute guy's friend: Hmmm. Well, I've already established that he was attractive. Although I definitely think he was on the older side. He's an Academic Advisor, and freakishly reminded me of the former Director of Intercultural Life at my alma mater (and an usher at my church). Aside from that weird feeling, he was pretty cool. However, he was really quiet.

So, that's the update. I can't say that I'm overly enthused about either guy. I mean, they were both attractive, and great on paper. But, really? I didn't get much of a vibe that either was all that into me. (And truthfully, vice versa). Let's not be hasty though...if asked, I'd totally go out with one of them. Or both. HA!

Operation Shape Up!

Alright, we all know I'm not the largest woman ever. But, that doesn't necessarily mean I'm in shape. And I'll go ahead and go on record and say that I'm not in shape. However, I have a new goal that requires some serious shaping, toning, and strengthening. I've made the executive decision to try out for the indoor football league cheerleaders.

For the first time ever, I am worried about my chances in a dance competition. I mean, honestly, it's been 5 years. Five!!! For not the first (or last) time ever, I'm not that confident about the shape I'm in. In this case, I'm going up against teeny tiny 18 year olds. Gah!!! I'm not entirely certain what made this particular brand of mental torture sounded like a good idea. But, then again, I really do miss performing and dancing.

Doing this is going to be quite an investment, both financially and emotionally. I have to buy new dance shoes, and I'm going to go ahead and pay the $99 for the prep classes right before the audition. And I'm considering hiring a trainer at Bally's (depending on how much he'll charge per session). The way I see it, even if I don't make it, I'll end up with a kickin' body. And really? There's nothing wrong with that. Emotionally, well, if I don't make it, I'll officially have to hang up my dance shoes (and bragging rights). Bummer.

Alright, let the chronicles begin! (Gulp).