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.

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).

Anticipation

Honestly, I cannot wait a minute longer to quit my job. But for my propensity for paying rent, I'd already be collecting unemployment. But since even I am tired of whining about my job, and I'm too ashamed to admit to actually having a slight breakdown while slumped in the first bathroom stall at my office, I've decided not to blog about how much I hate my job. At this point, not only is it old hat and obvious, but in addition to the stress of the job taking a physical toll, the negativity is starting to affect other areas of my life. As such, suffice it to say that if I'm not out of there soon, I may have to take an extended mental health leave.

I am also, however, anxiously anticipating my setup/blind date/whatever. I'm hoping he'll be entertaining enough to provide a welcome distraction that I need. What worries me is a.) I haven't gotten the most detailed description of what he looks like -- just that all the women want him; b.) I haven't gotten much detail on his personality, other than he's publicly humble and privately full of himself; c.) I'm not sure just how dumb the poor boy is.

As much as I'd like a distraction, I do have my standards. Get this, I actually blew off Rubix by conveniently not calling him back. And I more gently blew off the Christian Rapper by sending him a text telling him I was too stressed to go out with anyone. AND, I'm slowly weaning off the young'n. I'm just tired of repeats and those that aren't meeting the standard. Hence, my worries about the setup. Although, he will be all new and shiny, and really, we all know I'm like a crow. Pretty! Shiny! Weee! (Yes, I am willing to be just that shallow, at least for a little while.)

What to post, what to post?

I find myself antsy with anticipation. I am having my very first set-up this weekend. I'm pretty excited at the prospect of meeting a new prospective boyf. I know I'm putting way too many eggs in one basket. But, alas it's better than the lame eggs I had before.

So, here's the dish on the set-up. My friend Liz (girlfriend of my happy-go-lucky friend Joyce's brother) has decided I should date her boyfriend's co-worker. This was decided the very first day we met, and I think she's been subconsciously plotting it ever since. Anyway, she's throwing a White Party this Labor Day, and has covertly invited us both to the event. Apparently he is physically just my style. Unfortunately, his reputation of being dumb as a brick precedes him. Evidently, the poor boy is pretty and dumb. Well, that's alright, nothing wrong with sitting and looking pretty. Hopefully he's perfected this art. We'll find out. Here's hoping!

Darkened Lights of Broadway

The blog has been silent due to the passing of my grandma. Pheebee's mom's mom. She went peacefully, and had homegoing to end all homegoings. Silence having been properly observed, musing and ranting will resume shortly.