Number Twenty-Four

Indiana is a basketball state.  It's the sport kids want to be good at in grade school, high school and college.  Texas is not Indiana.  Texas is a football state... actually more of a football nation.  It's a whole other world down here.  Since Alex started playing, I've learned a little more about the game.  I'm still not addicted, but I'm getting there.  Last Saturday, I was in the 98 degree sun on the bleachers cheering like I was watching the Super Bowl.  I tell you in all seriousness, these kids are talented and dedicated. 

The head coach is something out of a book...former marine with a crew cut, born and bred Texan and about 60 years old.  Says things like, ""Are you hurt or are you injured?""  ""Maybe if you got a decent hair cut, you could hit him next time.""  ""That coach hasn't won a championship since the heavyweight champion of the world was white.""  Pure old school.  He cracks me up and the boys love him. 

I am very impressed with our coaching staff.  Yes, we have a staff.  Five dedicated men who, until school started, were coming out two hours a day, 4 days a week for practice and to the games on Saturday.  And they don't get paid, they all volunteer their time and their families' time.  Now we only practice 3 days a week for an hour and a half per IBFA regulations.  And I'm learning that it's not just a game to these people.  Someone tried to get the coach in trouble by starting a rumor that our kids are still out there 2 hours or more.  I don't get it.  Someone is always complaining about the Eagles.

The team's practice jerseys all say ""HUFF 24"" in honor of our generous sponsor.  The boys look nice and during the scrimmages and pre-season game, they looked like a team, not a bunch of ragamuffins.  Someone complained about that.  They can't tell who's who and they want to scout the team to see who to watch out for come the real season.  Coaches from other teams come and sit in the stands and pump parents for information.  They ask who's the starting quarterback.  They are not amused when we tell them it's number 24.  I get a chuckle out of it every time.  No one outside the coaches and parents thinks it's funny.  Even at practice we think it's funny.  ""That number 24 is looking good today."" 

Opening ceremonies are next week and games are every Saturday.  Check the  website for info. It is password protected, but I'm not telling you here.  Shoot me an email.

I always thought it was, "buckle my shoe"

On my drive home Monday, I was listening to the radio as usual when Jessie said to be caller nine for Shinedown tickets.  I was trying to remember what songs they sang as I dialed and then won.  I then found out I also would get to meet the bands before the show.  Yay!  Chris agreed to go with me and drove us to pick up the tickets and then to the concert on Tuesday.  We were instructed to be there at 6:00, but didn't actually meet the band till 6:50.  I think there were 12 people total--6 winners plus guests.  We were already inside so I was literally front and center when the show started.  I rule!

First we met Operator.  Very cool guys...just chill, easy-going, approachable guys.  We shook hands and they signed the pictures the manager gave us.  The lead singer, Johnny, was a touch cocky, but the other guys were very cool and I was my usual goofy self and told them to look for me.  I told Phil that I was gonna yell, ""I love you, Phil"" and I wanted him to shout back, ""I love you, Cindy""  He laughed.  I was serious.  At that moment D.P. asked if I spelled my name with an I or Y at the end and wrote my name on the picture.  No one said they loved me from the stage, but I must have been memorable because I got a couple of knowing smiles and head nods during the performance.  *And* Wade handed me a guitar pick at the end of their set and shook my hand.  I felt special.  I have to go buy the cd.

Then we got to meet Shinedown.  The moment they walked out my brain started the music, ""I dare you to tell me to walk through fire.""  The logical part of my brain assured me they couldn't hear me singing in my head.  The rest of my brain knew I was liable to break into song at any moment.  I started to, but fortunately they were down the line by then and I had the sense to shut up.  I caught myself giving all kinds of compliments and I wasn't trying to kiss up, rather, I was genuinely impressed... I told Barry that I liked his lip piercing and said that no one gets it there.  He said that's ""cuz it hurts like shit"".  I told him that he looks good though so he shouldn't worry about it.  He laughed.  Then I had to say something about the shoes.  I want to be a rockstar so I can afford SHOES.  They were all Oh-they're-just-Vans, but you can tell they appreciated that I noticed.  Barry gave me a drumstick at the end of the show.  I told Chris, ""Look! I caught it!""  He said, ""If by caught you mean you closed your hand when he placed the drumstick there, then yes, honey, you caught it.""  Men.

I can't remember who the first act was...they were good though.  They did a Beatle's cover.  It was strange, but good.  Then Operator played.  They sounded amazing, but I didn't know any of the songs except the GNR cover.  Johnny would talk between songs and engage the audience.  At one point he started talking about people didn't want to be there and said he'd give a two-count and wanted the audience to tell them, ""fuck you!""  So the music was going and his head was bobbing and he said ""ONE!TWO!"" to which the audience responded ""Fuck You!""  And he did it again and again, each time with a little more enthusiasm.  I then realized I was pointing and shouting ""FUCK YOU!"" and started laughing.  I'm not cool enough to be hard rock, but now when people piss me off, I'm just gonna start counting to two and smile.

Shinedown played and I knew about 5 songs, but I have a whole new respect for them.  They threw down.  And there was the usual bullshit happening when it's just a sea of humanity.  When the pushing started, Brent went over to that side of the stage and asked if everyone was cool.  Then it started again and he just stopped singing.  Just stood there and watched the nonsense and told them to cut it out.  The third time it happened, security was on that shit and threw a couple of people out.  Brent got into the crowd to break it up.  I really respect that, especially after being manhandled and abused during the Morrissey show where nobody working the show did a damn thing to stop it.  The House of Blues is anal about cameras and whatnot, but they also don't put up with crap.  I had a really great time and thoroughly enjoyed the show. 

I imagine if I had blogged right after the show, I'd have better details to share, but I just haven't been up to it.  I'd recommend seeing the show if you can.  I'd go again if I could.

Logic and Emotion

First, there's what I know... I've learned that holding a grudge and being bitter only makes me tired and cranky, but the person I'm mad at is usually too stupid or self-absorbed to give a shit.  I've also learned that stressing over things I can't control is a waste of my time, makes me eat bad things late at night, keeps me from sleeping and gives me the BG's.  (tmi-- butterflies ) 

Second, there's what I feel... I'm an emotional person.  I'm not gonna go all Alexander Pope and tell you I feel more than other people, but I freely admit that I feel stuff and I can't help but show it.  I laugh right out loud, I cry at the drop of a hat, I get so mad that I get physically hot and start sweating.

Sometimes I have trouble with what I know conflicting with what I feel.  Yesterday was my baby's birthday.  Do you think his daddy so much as called him on the phone?  Do you think he's so much as called him since he moved in with whoever he thinks he's in love with this week?   I know I brought him into this family and he's very charming at times and most of you buy into it being genuine.  I'm not sure if he's on drugs or what.  He stopped showing up at the job Kris got him.  Several months ago, he said good-bye to his son through the bathroom door and lied about going back to Indiana.  One of the Cubscout parents saw him walking in our neighborhood not too long ago and asked me how he's doing.  His parents called me to ask about him.  I tell them all the truth.  I don't know.  For months now he's decided to treat me like I don't exist, screw Kris over on the money he owes her and forget about the fact that he has a son...except to show people pictures of how he used to pretend to be a good father.

And I'm sure one of you will go running to him and tell him these things I think.  I won't mention names, though he tells me when you go behind my back to him.  I don't know why he thinks that gives him merit.  Disloyalty is depressing, but I know the fact that he's funny and likes to be the center of attention is more important to some of you than the fact that I'm your family.  It's true that I don't say anything about his retarded ass that I wouldn't say to him, but I'd just as soon not deal with him at all.

I know that I can't control what he does, or doesn't do.  I know eventually he'll figure out a piece of ass is not more important than his child.  I know that at some point, he'll look back at his empty life and wish he had memories of his son.  I know that Alex will figure out his father is an asshole without me saying a word.  I know I am powerless to change any of these things, but it wears me out nonetheless.  It makes me mad and sad and frustrated.   If Alex had to  depend on his father to provide for him, he would have starved to death homeless and naked a long time ago. 

I will continue raising my son as well as I can.  I will take comfort in the fact that he's a fabulous kid and I couldn't imagine better.  He has me and his aunts and grandparents and cousins.  I know it...and I have a feeling he'll turn out more than great.

Excuse me...

It's Alex's birthday! 

My baby is ten years old.  Double digits, baby!   Doesn't that just blow your mind?  I'll have him turn his cell phone on when we get home so you can call your favorite cousin / nephew / friend's kid.

My Husband is smoking crack

I went to Ticketmaster to see when Bon Jovi is touring.  It appears they're playing in New Jersey until November.  Out of curiousity I checked to see how much tickets are.  Ready?  No, you're not.  I know I wasn't.  Floor seats are $303 each plus the Ticketmaster fee.  Looks like I won't be seeing Jon and the boys afterall.

My Lunch Buddy is Cooler than Yours

I have a lunch buddy.  His name is Chris.  I see him pretty much everyday now.  Almost exactly at 1:00 p.m., he saunters into my office and sits on (what is now) his chair.  I look forward to seeing his face and it's not just because he gets me out of the office.  Some people think 'lunch' is code for 'nooner' because some people are starving at dinner time.  For me, lunch is lunch.  A girl has to eat.

That said, our friendship has undergone a status upgrade.  I'm sure it's not the world's first accidental relationship.  It just fell into place.  It makes perfect sense really.  He hooked up his VCR to watch Fight Club with me.  He makes an effort to see me and work around my schedule.  Now any man will do that for a booty call, but how many will do it for just lunch?

Damned if you do, Fucked if you don't

I was forced to choose between my loyalty to my boss and my loyalty to this company.  I chose the company to keep my job, but I don't think I want it now.  In fact, I could quit my job without a whole lot of regret at this moment.   I feel physically sick over the whole mess.

Steel toed motivation

From time to time, I've realized that things in my life needed to change.  I made a conscious decision to not be shy.  It took a great deal of effort on my part initially, but I'm much happier being extroverted.  While I maintain a very Black and White view of the world, I now make allowances for the existence of Grey sometimes.  That was another deliberate decision on my part.  I know these things may not seem like big deals to the casual observer, but trust me, HUGE deals.

 

It's hard for me to change.  I don't like to change, but for a while there I went through this stage where I decided to be more accepting of stuff and I've been pretty good about keeping it up.  It was an effort to open myself up to things I may have been missing.   I'm a close-minded liberal.  Weird, I know, but so true.  So I opened myself up to different kinds of people who I otherwise may have overlooked or even snubbed. 

 

In a few cases, that's worked out really well.  However, in my personal life, not only have I opened myself up to men who are outside my norm, in some respects, I've just lowered my standards.  I've made allowances and put up with things that make no sense.  If someone I know and loved told me they were dealing with some of the crap I've accepted in their relationships, I'd tell them not to tolerate that shit.  I realize that I've spent way too much time pissed off and confused...and that's just not who I am.   I don't know when I made the move from accepting different to accepting bullshit, but it ends now.   As my loving sister told me, at times I need a push…with a heavy boot…in the butt.  Both cheeks are sufficiently bruised.  I'm moving on.