Oyeille yeille yeille

Ouch. That's what my body is saying, exclaiming, crying really. Why, you ask? Well because yesterday I had tryouts to become an Adrenaline Rush Dancer. Tryouts began at 9:15. We started with very scary technique. And given the fact that we were in a convention center, and not a dance studio, there were no mirrors. All I know is that I did the leaps and the sexy walks really well...because I already knew how to do those. I also know that I didn't do the Calypso so great. And, I tripped at least once attempting to wink at the judges. Smooooooooth.

Ok, after the technique, we moved on to the sideline. This was pretty easy as long as you knew something about pom dancing. Which, obviously I do. The real key was to be able to do the freaky straight arms of a cheerleader. Totally handled that. But so did everyone else, for the most part.

Then, we had our lunch time adventure. The sign on the bus stop said 3 blocks to get to the McDonalds. So I, along with some other girls, walked. I don't know who measured, but it was definitely a good half mile. ONE WAY. Arrrrrgh!

After lunch, there was even more. First, there was a hip hop. I had a good time with that one. Shakin' my distinctive parts, as Luda said. Second, there was a pom funk routine. No one rocked that one, because it wasn't as high energy as the hip hop. Which is probably why we had to do it twice. Yikes.

Anyhoo, short story long...I made it to finals!!!!!!!! Squeeeeeeee!

Long Weekend

Last weekend was quite the weekend. Friday, I went to an incredibly grown-up dinner party that the cute neighbor invited me to. I was so impressed with everyone's dish. (Given that I didn't get notice until the last minute, I took tasty tasty liquor, and didn't show off my culinary skills). Anyway, the hostess made a tasty and delicious pork tenderloin. Cute neighbor made tasty pasta. HBG made sauteed green beans. But, most impressively, one of the other guests brought stuffed mushroom caps. They were to die for. So very delicious. Afterwards, we went out for a bit, ending up at the bar where Afro-guy works. Sadly, he wasn't there. HBG's friend from college came along, and he was a super cute law student. I would've definitely made out with him, but for the fact that HBG was standing right there. Bummer. D'ah well. If he's friends with HBG, he's probably stuck in the frat boy mindset anyway. Particularly since he's nearly a lawyer.

Then Saturday I went out with the Fabulous Kia (That's pronounced kye-ah). She is a most fantastically person that I met through Chrissy. Fortunately, Chrissy introduced us, because we were both languishing from going out to lame bars with Chrissy. Now we can go out to classy bars with each other, and get into all kinds of trouble. What kind of trouble you ask? Well, trouble like Saturday night. Not only did we get into VIP for free, but Kia also managed to get us each a free glass of champagne from some random guy. And then we both got drinks from cute boys with bottle service (Belvidere for those of you keeping track). Hilariously, Kia was actually using her pseudonym, and the guy to whom she'd given her phone number called on Sunday asking for her. And she was a teeny bit confused. HA!

Speaking of cute boys with bottle service. One of them asked for my phone number -- and unlike JLH he called! Hooray! We'll see if it goes anywhere. So far, so good. I've been impressed with his boldness thus far.

This post brought to you by the number 9

Last night, I was looking in my closet, longing to wear jeans to work the next day. I came to a rather shameful conclusion. I own nine pairs of jeans. 9!!! Isn't that absolutely nuts. That's american materialism at it's best. And honestly, I only feel bad about 2 pair of the 7. The other 7, I get a decent amount of wear out of them. But 1 pair used to be my comfy pair, have sort of turned into a mom jean. The other pair are the skinny jeans. A great pair of jeans I bought at the height (low?) of my Weight Watcher days. I keep them around to remind me how tiny I can be if I really put my mind to it. I tried them on last night, given my recent strength training with the trainer extraordinaire -- they were still pretty tight. But not necessarily in the obscene kind of way, maybe in an almost kind of way. So, we'll see if at the end of our sessions, I can get myself in them. Dude, making the dance team + fitting into my skinny jeans = wickedly worth the price.

Thus swung the Pendulum

So, the Ninja called me tonight. I missed the call (making me look like a busy busy girl). But he left a message. Which was even more shocking; since he never leaves message (that would be far too responsible). The message basically asked what I was doing on Friday. And therein lies the question. Why is he calling asking what I'm doing on Friday? And since the only way the thought would cross his mind to ask me is if he broke up with his g/f or if the relationship is on the rocks....how long ago did that relationship start to spiral downwards? And, most importantly, do I care?

News and Reflections

News first: We'll start with the Hawkeye. Ok, basically, I'm so over him. He's too young. And generally not that into me. Actually, I don't know if he's that into me, so much as he isn't working that hard to get to me. That might be because he's not that into me. And it might be because he's not used to having to work that hard...having been a football player in the Big 10 and all. Thus, although he's still uber-cute, I'm just not willing to put in any kind of work to get his attention, because he's just out of college, and therefore not worth the effort.

There may, however, be a newcomer to the island. We'll call him JLH. JLH is a little bit older than I'm normally attracted to. Stop laughing! I'm not always attracted to 22 year olds. I'd definitely go for someone who is 27, 28. Remember cute neighbor?! He's 28. Ok then. Glad I proved that. (I still hear you giggling). Anyway, JLH is probably around 32, 33. He's an attorney at a sweatshop firm; a 7th year. He's tall caramelly and handsome. And definitely spends some time at the gym. Which I like. I don't know much else about him biographically. Mostly because we only met briefly at a lawyerly function. So far, there's been no contact. But my buddy said that I may have made him think that I wasn't interested, so I broke the 2 day rule and emailed him right away -- but it was both casual and legitimate. The ball's in his court now, so we'll see if he was actually interested. Here's to hoping that he's not only interested, but also child-free and has a good personality to go with that nice body.

Reflections: Ok, so today I was at my friend's housewarming dinner party. And she was mentioning some things that pheebee's been getting into and some things that she's done. I've always said that I want to lead an exciting life; and I've always been afraid that my 20s were just languishing since I wasn't really doing anything uber-exciting. As it turns out, when you list all the things I've been getting into recently, my life's not so boring. Think about it, I've tried out for a pro dance squad, and I'm trying out for another one in a few weeks. Besides that, I was already on one a few years ago. AND, I was picked to be the CBJIG. AND, I used to be a Hooters Girl. (Bet you forgot about that). And I went out with a pro-basketball player. And I've been to a bunch of foreign countries. I mean, my biography, while nothing movies are made of, is actually fairly interesting. Sah-weet! I don't have to worry that I'm the most boring person in the world. Which, believe it or not, is a near constant nagging fear that I have. (Look at that, one more layer to pheebee's personality -- I'm like a deluxe parfait).

Phooey

Ok, so I finally learned the Hawkeye's name. And therefore I google-stalked him. And, I made a startling discovery. He was born in 1985. I've already had to deal with someone born in that year. Remember the young'n? Oh crap. Maybe I'm no longer that into him. I don't think I can deal with fighting his sexual impulses. Which may be just as well, because there may be an unconfirmed girlfriend. Why couldn't he be a nice 27-29 year old man?

I did enjoy talking to him for an extended period of time today. He seems to be able to handle my smart-arsed mouth. Although, he may be a little bit of a whiner in terms of giving him a hard time. And we have an appointment to chat on Tuesday; as we have a bet going about who's going to win the Packers/Bears game (duh). He took the losing side, so I need suggestions for bet terms. And before you suggest it, it can't be dinner or drinks or any such thing; because the terms he picked involved lunges and squats. (sad. He definitely passed on the opportunity to ask me out).

Speaking of the young'n, he called me this week. He's moving to California. I think I may miss his empty threats of proposing marriage.

Houston, we have a mini problem

So, I've been properly stalking the Hawkeye. And by stalking, I mean going to my regular gym at the regular time and checking him out. We often exchange pleasantries. However, I noticed today that he wasn't as cute as I originally thought. Which got me a little worried. Even I am starting to think I'm too picky. But, for the record, I'm going to continue to stalk the Hawkeye. Because he's still hot. Hooray Hawkeye!

Incidentally, I've also renewed my resolve not to repeat those who have been kicked off the island. I had the oddest dream about the Engineer, and that got me to thinking for half a second. I wondered to myself whether it'd be a bad idea to call him. Goodness knows I haven't forgotten the phone number (darn memory for phone numbers). Which reminded me: I need to get new cabana boys.

All this to say, that despite not being as impressed by the Hawkeye as before, I still want him on the island to prevent repeats. I don't know whether I"m any closer to making that happen. But what the heck, I'm still game for giving it a shot.