Loser (on being one, sort of)

I played soccer throughout my childhood. My first team, the Ladybugs, became the Eagles when we got a little older. I also played on my High School team (the Lady Bulldogs). I was part of a group of people who lobbied the high school for girls soccer and then felt obliged to play after the lobbying effort.

My career on the pitch was less than illustrious. Being the awkward big kid meant playing left fullback and doing it badly. The Ladybugs weren't winners. Neither were the Eagles. The Lady Bulldogs were also less than spectacular. And my efforts didn't contribute much. The worst part of the Bulldog experience was that the Geometry teacher we had recruited to coach knew less about soccer than I did and didn't like me much. The result? I practiced a lot and didn't play much. Geometry coach toyed with not giving me a letter. She didn't follow through. So, somewhere I have three big fuzzy D's. I played soccer in the age before there were trophies. So, my childhood sports acknowledgement is restricted to those D's.

In college, I was too into being in college to do much sporting. I did play on a co-ed intramural soccer team and we won the championship. Again, no thanks to me, but I did play most of the games. I had a friend who had been on the University's soccer team. They had played (and lost) for the National Championship. He was INTENSELY jealous of my intramural championship shirt. So, I gave it to him. There went my one real "trophy."

I played tennis some with my roommate in college. She wouldn't keep score.

In my adult life, I haven't done much in the way of competition of a sports kind. Graduate school was competitive. I was recently talking to treecup about how much we had to compete with one another over the scant resources while we were working on our PhDs. I remember being very angry that I was ranked third for a dissertation fellowship behind a woman who has since gone on to become one of the real bright lights in my field. I should have been third. It didn't seem right at the time. Now it seems just. She teaches at a prestigious institution and has a book forthcoming from a major press. I administrate at a regional institution and just had an article published in an online journal. In academic score-keeping, she's "winning." But I'm not keep score. I like my job and my little article.

This week, weese and I both won for the first time in the blogger fantasy football league. I even moved out of last place.

Honey and I have not yet begun the process of picking out the trophy for the blogger league. Halfway through the football season, it is safe to say that it will not be at our home.

It's too early to say how election day is going.

In 2000, Honey and I lived in an apartment above some horrible Republican bitches. That may be repetitive. Anyway, we went to bed thinking Gore had won and woke up to their screaming in joy. Laying aside the fact that Gore did actually win, it was a bleak moment.

Speaker Pelosi would be a bright one. It's nice when your team wins, even if you don't get a trophy.

1986 Senate.

1995 Braves.

2002 Angels.

2006 Dems (?).

Meantime, my three fuzzy D's and my one fantasy football win attest to the fact that I am not a total loser. If only I had something to put on my mantle. Never mind, since I never outgrew the big or the awkward, I'd probably just break it.




Go team!

Friday randomness

According to my goofy gynecologist, I have "uncontested estrogen." That is not something you want apparently. That stuff needs competition or you're in trouble. I don't know who to send in to contest it. Any ideas?

The surly guy at my local bike shop is really nice under the surly. Bike fix in five minutes! A good local bike shop is good.

Some hangnails are harder to "fix" than others.

Our office first aid kit has teeny weeny and massively large bandages. Why?

I broke my watch band. The repair was handled terrifically. If you're looking for a sporty watch from a cool L.A. company, check out Reactor. They're chunky watches. But I like me a chunky watch.

Oh and this business of teens and twenty-something not wanting to wear watches because cell phones tell time is a cultural shift I don't like. Watches say a lot about a person.

I was at a meeting this week, in fact, and noticed that a guy had a woman's Timex on his right wrist. It gave me an alternate contemplation source than the meeting. I made up several stories, most of them sweet, about why he had on a woman's watch.

I remembered, too, my boss from my first full-time job, wore a very similar Timex. She died a couple of years ago (at a young age) of breast cancer. I miss her. And I like that his watch reminded me of her.

There is, seemingly, a worldwide shortage of Kashi GoLean Crunch. Honey and I are in mourning. Honey may begin to panic.

I'm sorry Tower Records is going out of business. But...the markdowns need to happen more quickly.

It reminds me a little of when the local woman's bookstore went out of business in L.A. I went to get some books and commented on how sorry I was it was happening. The woman behind the counter looked at me over her glasses, "you don't have to take the discount, you know." I did, though. I'm sorry it closed, but a bargain is a bargain.

Lost is going away after Wednesday. I heart me some Lost.

The show has been made all the better this season by Elizabeth Mitchell. I really heart me some Elizabeth Mitchell.

Getting apples from an orchard makes for an exponentially better apple experience than anything else.

Don't believe all of what you hear (like, "there are no apples this year."). That may mean there are five kinds to choose from instead of 12. Drive on up to the orchard to see.

It's nice to have a copy-editor Honey to whom you can ask questions like, "can you tell me the rule for spelling out numbers?"

Her answer:

"It's more a style thing, mostly in journalism, so it isn't ever incorrect to spell out numbers or make them cardinal. But yes, we spell out one through nine and style 10 and up as cardinals, but there are exceptions. Like, when we're stating ages of people and dates and the like, numbers are always cardinal, though when we're stating ages of things, the primary rule applies. Fiction follows different rules. There, numbers are almost always spelled out unless they refer to dates, monetary amounts, etc. Is that a suitably convoluted answer to what should have been a simple question?"

I do so love that woman. Isn't that fantastic?

Happy weekend. Go ride your bike! Here's mine again. So purty.

On shoes and morality

Recently, Honey found a pair of shoes after which she lusted. I, too, found them appealing. In anticipation of our upcoming trip to cold climates, I ordered them for her birthday (for her) and just because (for me). We got them. We tried them on. We loved them. In fact, my Croc wearing has significantly decreased since they arrived. They are magnificent.

I got an e-mail from the retailer thanking me for my return of the shoes. The shoes I am wearing right now. Odd, I thought. I figured there was a mix-up. Then I got a credit for the shoes to my card. Both pair.

Thusly...a moral dilemma. Should I:

1) Tell the retailer?

2) Not tell the retailer?

Honey and I discussed. I should say that the retailer is large and charges what honey would call "full-pop retail" for the shoes. In fact, they charge $10 more than the website of the company that made the shoes. I use the retailer occasionally because they have a huge selection and don't charge for shipping.

Meantime, I grew more fond of the shoes. So did Honey.

In finally decided I could live with the following scenario...

Don't tell them, but order another two pair of shoes from them. Then, it's like Honey and I got our very own two-for-one sale. Honey even picked out MORE expensive shoes for the second go-around.

If you feel moved to comment, tell me what you would have done.

Oh, and here are the shoes in question:



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We got no trick-or-treaters last night. Honey thinks it's because our neighbors think we're witches. Or lesbians. Whatever.