Ode to volleyball

Otherwise known as the outlet to my stress, the freedom from my work stains, and the fire on my mountain {um, er, something like that}

The gym is hot – 120 degrees in the ventilating pipes shade. The bodies crowding the gym do no good to cool the ever warming, falsely circulating air. No windows. Fluorescent lighting. The sound of referee whistles bursting forth in rapid spurts.

Three courts of women line up on opposite sides of the net. More specifically, a volleyball net set at 7′4″. Six women on this side, six women on that side. And sometimes one really ornery ref who doesn’t like to oversee games late into her Monday evening. She’s old. I’ll let that go.

Last night the sauna that is known as the Davis High gym was ensuring any salt intake we had during the day would be released in mighty rivers from our ever widening pores. But we can’t think about that now because the game starts.

We serve. Boom, Ace! We serve again. Boom, Ace again! We serve again, the volleyball is lobbed back our way, and we start to set it up. I back up. Please, please give me the set, give me the set. My arms are out, I watch for the sweet set, and here it comes. One, two, three-four go my steps, jump high, arm swings down and SMACK! Down goes the ball. Shoot, they got a good dig. Need to swing harder. Here it comes again.

Good pass, good pass. Come on, give me a good set, give me a good set. One, two, three-four and BAM! No digging that ball.

Gosh, I love playing volleyball.

Distract me from the noise

I don’t know if you are like me and you are obsessing over the constant barrage of information regarding our current economic situation {cue dum-dum-daaah music}, but I am seeking an escape. When things get to be too much and I need to let go, I start planning my next vacation just as a mental diversion for a little while. Truth be told, I don’t have a lot of time to take off and explore the world {silly things like kid and job excuses} so my virtual vacations just have to do. {{and my kid is not silly…neither is my job}} {{{I take those things very seriously}}} {{{{Seriously, I do}}}}

I love to find new resources or bits of information leading me into something I never would have thought to discover. I want to know what the best Mom & Pop Diner is in Nebraska should I ever go there. I want to know what cool, quirky museums exist in Belgium or off-road adventures take place in New Zealand. Hearing about some place like the Key Lime Pie Salon & Spa in Georgia gets me all excited. I don’t know when in my life I will be able to do and/or experience all the things I would like to, but just reading about it kind of takes me there.

One of my favorite resources for discovering cool digs or happening events is Things You Should Do. This site has oodles and scads of intriguing and somewhat strange information categorized by state. I don’t think it’s been up very long because Utah only has 7 items next to it. Um, ’scuse me, but I can think of 37 things off the top of my head that you could add to that list. Maybe I’ll become a contributing editor…anyhoo, it’s a lot of fun to look through {remember the Key Lime Pie Salon & Spa above? A suggestion from this site}.

Just a little FYI to help you cope with bailout worries. Forget all the political blah-blah-blah that is taking place right now. Escape someplace fun with me!

Proud no matter what

I watched the last 30 minutes of Caden’s football practice tonight. I typically don’t stay the entire two hours as I spend a good portion doing my run up Mueller Park Canyon. Tonight I was back a little earlier and watched as Caden’s team split in two and scrimmaged against each other.

Caden is the second smallest kid on the team. He is the very youngest by a few months. He started out playing football the same way he approaches so many things in his life: full force attack and experience be damned. He’s always been able to pick things up quickly thanks to his competitive nature but he struggles once he comes to a learning “plateau”. He came up against one of these plateau’s last week with football and he struggled mightily with his play in his game last Saturday.

As his mother, I was greatly frustrated. This kid does not like to lose, does not like to stand on the sidelines, and certainly doesn’t let somebody else beat him out. But his attitude and commitment just seemed lacking and my “encouragement” to get him back to where he once was most assuredly would not show up as a best practice in Parents Magazine.

Finally, I realized that I needed to just reassure him that if he just worked hard, he could get back the position he was once used to on his football team. He is starting to get to the age where sports teams will ask a lot of him and he will need to decide if he loves the sport enough to make a commitment to work his hardest. Yes, it’s crazy that it starts so young these days. I was 11 before I played on a competition soccer team and these days it starts at 7.

Anyway, back to football. Caden took it heart today (oh my gosh, he actually listened to me!) and he went straight up to his coach and asked him what he could do better, how he could work harder. His coach is a smart man. He leaned over so he was the same height as Caden, looked straight in his face and said, “You are doing a great job, Brewster. Practice your tackles and you will get even better.” He smiled, put his hand on Caden’s shoulder and then said, “Let’s get to work, okay? Let’s go have fun!”

Caden ended up making some great tackles at the end of practice. He was back in his running back position for a few plays, too, and loved the opportunity to carry the football a little bit. And I was watching on the sidelines with a big smile on my face.

When he came over after practice was done, he had a huge grin spread across his adorable freckled face and said, “Did you see me, Mom? Did you see my tackling? When I made those tackles, I thought ‘My mom is going to be so proud of me!’”

Dang kid. Almost making me cry.  I will always be proud of you, buddy, no matter what.

Leaves falling = Favorite shopping season

Seriously, autumn could just not get any cooler {and I don’t mean that from a temperature perspective}. I LOVE LOVE LOVE the Fall because my favorite styles come out and I get to layer and wear cute, chunky sweaters or silky soft slimming wraps. It’s the best time to buy two things I love to wear most: a darn good pair of jeans and the aforementioned sweater.

I got these jeans for my birthday recently. You should run and buy some because they make everything on your body look good.

I also picked up a new sweater during Macy’s Day of Caring this past Saturday. If you donated $5, you received an all day shopping pass for 20% off almost anything in the store. Even those designer jeans {but I congratulated myself on not giving in – however, if it had been 40%…}.

 

And just because I couldn’t pass these by, I added a little dark silver to the mix.

Thank you, fall fashion, for beautiful things {and for birthday $$ that comes right in the nick of time}.

Act I: Try to act interest in hopes the acting will turn into actual interest

Or, in other words, How to Learn to Like (Tolerate) Baseball Because Your Boyfriend’s Life Nearly Revolves Around It.

Yes, that’s what I’ve been practicing over the past 6 months of my life – learning to tolerate and then actually like baseball. I’ve always enjoyed going to baseball games but watching it on TV was akin to watching dust settle on my blinds. So thrilling. Innings without any action at all. Fat athletes that are grossly overpaid {if you are being paid $30 million over 5 years, can you not afford a trainer to keep you a bit fit instead of becoming a ball player with a gut hanging out over your belt? Puh-lease}.

The Guy loves the Chicago Cubs. Wait, I didn’t say that exactly right. He ADORES/WORSHIPS/RELISHES the Cubbies and has since 1984 {he reminds me of this little fact all the time}. I’m used to being around a baseball fanatic because one of my best friends, Ryan, whom I work with is a huge Cubs fan and we’ve known each other for nearly a decade. All I’ve heard for years is the sob story of a Cubbies fan. I get the angst they feel over a team that hasn’t won the World Series since 1908. The Guy has started to draw me into the angst and when he told me it had been 100 years since they last won the World Series, I made the observation, “Well, then this is definitely their year. Time to break a 100 year old drought.”

Unbeknownst to me, I have come to find out over the past few months of talking about the Cubs with The Guy that I am something of a baseball savant. I have correctly predicted almost all of the games The Guy would question me about and even came down to calling out plays.

“They’re losing, Angie! They’re down by 2 runs! And it’s the bottom of the 8th. What are we going to do?!?”

“No worries, The Guy! I bet the next batter up is going to hit a double and the guy after him will homer it out of the park.”

And thus Angie said it and thus it was done.

Seriously, that has happened so many times. I told him it was okay that the Cubs went through a slump in July and that they would probably have another one late August and early September. But then I said they would start to come back so that they would hit their performance stride when it mattered most: October. And here they are, National League Division Champions. Man, I totally rock.

I couldn’t promise him for sure that the Cubs would win the World Series {hey, I may be a savant but I’m no psychic}, just that this was their year. And along the way I’ve come to recognize players names so that instead of saying What’s-his-face or Whose-His-Bucket. Come October, I will actually be cheering on Soto, Soriano, Zambrano, Theriot, Fukudome, Lee, and so many more (I can’t believe I remembered that many names!). GO CUBS!!!

The Smack Attack is back, baby

Monday night was a happy night. After a long summer of no volleyball games (since April) my team was back in action with a couple of new players. And those new additions?  Bueno.

Nothing beats the feeling of pounding down a well set volleyball. You’re ready to hit, the ball is set, your feet start to do the shuffle approach, and then wham, bam, thank you ma’am – your aggression has sent the ball hurtling towards some poor, unprepared soul. I can’t explain how good that feels until you try it for yourself. It’s like heroine – addictive and stimulating beyond belief (um, is that what heroine feels like?).

We’re still working out a few kinks, finding our rhythm and all that jazz, but boy we are a good team! I called Katie and told her that the team all missed her (we do!) and we won our first game for her…sort of. Seriously can’t wait for next Monday night to play again.

899 things to say

Oh man, oh man, what a week. You know I’ve been busy when it takes me an entire week to post something else on this little diddy I like to call a blog.

My life over the past week consisted of a major work project that garnered some much needed kudos (’bout time after all the hell it really put me through), taking Caden from soccer to football to soccer to football again and again, no dating at all (busy lives have a hard time finding time to intertwine…especially when they reside almost 80 miles apart),  and ensuring my home is in tip-top shape for an open house (held last Saturday). I am so TIRED.

Last week, I remember several occasions of being at work or sitting at practices and just thinking, ‘Gosh, how I would love to just go to sleep right now’. Sleep – what a beautiful thing. I would love to spend an entire week being lazy in some hotel on a beach (the Marriott I stayed at in San Juan comes to  mind) just sleeping, reading, and occasionally eating. Just me. No kid. No work. No The Guy. No commute. No noise. Just moi. Heck, forget the week, I’d take three days! (call me selfish but that’s where I’m at these days)

Even though I haven’t posted in a week, I’ve seriously had 899 things I could have shared on my blog because my head has been filled to the brim with thoughts about life, dating, work, kids, school, sports, and whatnot. It’s funny how you almost start to categorize your thoughts when you are keeping up one little online journal that you somehow find appropriate to share with the world…or the 6.5 people who care to read it. When I observe life occurrences or hilarious happenstances, I tend to think, “Maybe I will blog about that.” And let’s see, how many times did I think that over this past week? Oh yeah…899 times. But who’s counting.

I thought about blogging regarding a lunch date I was on with Caden Saturday afternoon after his football game. We went down to Tucanos Brazilian Grill down at The Gateway for a little salad, meat, and rolls. Next to our little twosome was a birthday party comprised of about 10 adults. This is how their meal went down:

• The woman who was celebrating her birthday went head over heels and face-planted into her birthday cake; she did this as she was trying to stand up as the servers came to court her with the rousing bongo-drum-banging Brazilian version of Happy Birthday. Sad. All that wasted frosting.
• Another lady party-goer clearly enjoyed being the “storyteller” of the group and proceeded to share her one pregnancy story (VERY LOUDLY) that happened so long ago I don’t believe dinosaurs had yet left the earth. Um, excuse me, but the LAST thing I want to hear about when trying to eat tasty tidbits of meat is just how very painful and needful it was to strip your membranes in order to push your nearly 11 lb child into this world. I think I will become a vegetarian.
• The youngest gentleman (who was probably 48) got into a heated discussion on the when/how/why to breed dogs when they are in heat. I will never look at female dogs again in the same light.
• At least two of the couples were quite the May-December romances. For one couple, it was more like May 1910-December 1980 romance. Seriously, YUCK. Caden couldn’t help but notice that and asked, “Is that her grandpa?” “It sure should be, buddy, it sure should be.”

Yes, good times, good times. I don’t know if my appetite will ever return to go eat at that restaurant sometime in the next 10 years, but we’ll see.

So there you have it. One thing I thought to blog about and I actually posted it. One down, 898 left to go.

Celebrating a good choice

The biggest blessing we are given in this life is our free agency. Just ask my mom. She spoke Saturday at Caden’s baptism and retiterated what many of us realize as we grow older: having the freedom to make our own choices is the greatest gift we could ever receive. And Caden made a great choice to become a full member of our church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I’ve been telling him all year long that this was a special year for him, the year he turns 8 which means the “age of accountability”. It’s one of the banner moments you experience, becoming a member of the church and I was so happy that we had as many family members that could be there as possible.

Caden was baptized by my brother, Ben, and needed me to reassure him on numerous occasions that Ben would not drown him.  

“No, I promise you he won’t drown you,” I’d say.

“How long am I under water, Mom? Like, two minutes? How long do I have to hold my breath?”

“Maybe two seconds! Seriously buddy, it’s not that long.”

Caden shared his day with another little girl in our branch whose name was Jaiden (yes, the rhyming convention of the two was kind of funny). Jaiden was baptized first and Caden paid close attention to the scene. Once he realized how quickly it happened and that it wasn’t scary at all, he turned to my brother and said, “C’mon, Ben, let’s go!” and practically dragged him into the baptismal font.

My dad confirmed him a member and Caden was lucky to have his two uncles, Ben and Ryan, and his grandpa – or Poppa – Cal be there as part of that ordinance. It’s amazing how fast this day approaches and then suddenly, there they are standing in front of the church being introduced as the newest members of the congregation.

All I can say is that I’m so proud of you, bud, and excited for many more milestones to occur in your life down the road. Yet it all happens so darn fast…

Nothing better than freshly shaved legs for your birthday

Yep, today is my day. I don’t say that because I want lots of well wishes, cards, phone calls, and really cool presents to keep me going; I just like celebrating my day. I greet my birthdays with great aplomb; I don’t care if I’m one year older because I have a birthday tradition that gets me focused and excited to face my little world. The tradition involves my pink Daisy razor, slathered-on shaving gel, and tantalizingly smooth legs.

Ahhh, nothing beats a freshly shaved pair of legs for your birthday. Not a beautiful Tiffany ring, a trip to Paris, shopping spree at Anthro, day at the spa, a single thing. I rub my legs together for good luck just because it feels so good. Sometimes I leave stubble just for scratching purposes but not today! Today is all about the “Oooo” and “Ahhhh” factor.

You may ask, “Does anybody else get the opportunity to enjoy those silky soft stems of yours?” Sadly, no. I do not allow rubbing except from the right person but you may gaze from afar. This is purely a self-indulgent act, keeping it real — keeping it real smooth.

I got dressed today (thank heavens because that walking into work naked thing sure didn’t work yesterday), dropped Caden off at school, and headed to have my own little birthday breakfast celebration at my favorite place to eat breakfast in the entire world: The Original Pancake House. They have the best crepes this side of France, honest to goodness, and I relished my Bananas & Apricot crepe with breakfast potatoes most heartily. I sat there with book in hand, crossing my legs back and forth just to feel again that yes, freshly shaved legs are glorious. Especially on your birthday.

As I sailed on into work, I came in dressed with a furtive grin like I held a great secret that no one else knew but me. The security guard was aware that something about me was a-buzz and commented, “You look like you’ve had a good morning. So nice to see a smiling face enter the building like that these days.” “Well, what can I say? I’m having a good day.”

I wished I could have whispered to him the answer to my infectious mood: “Psst – on your birthday, shave your legs.” But I don’t know if a 68 year old man would be up for that.

And now here I sit at my desk, typing away, answering emails, making phone calls, attending meetings, and just generally enjoying the confidence that a good clean pair of legs brings. Seriously, it’s been a really good day. And all I did is shave my legs.

{um, yeah, don’t think that this is the only day I shave my legs; I just do it more lovingly on my b-day}

Life as it currently is

Sometimes words just get in the way of what you really want to say–you feel something more than you can express it. That’s why these images portray more of my life as it currently is than words could adequately convey.

Friday

Saturday

Sunday

Monday

What I want?