Is anyone, anyone at all, attending BlogHer ‘07? I’m beginning to think that I can swing the whole weekend for around $200, but am overwhelmed at the thought of hundreds of mommy-bloggers.
As I speak, the season finale of Law and Order: SVU, guest starring Ludacris, is wrapping up, and they’re finishing with a montage, with moments from the show set to the theme song from Crash. You know, the slow and creepy one they play at the end of the movie, when the woman is pulled from the burning car, and Ludacris decides to give money to the immigrants instead of selling them.
I don’t know whether to laugh at the cheesiness, or feel insulted that I’m supposed to think this transition is seamless.
I brought the Nikon D50 with me to St. Vincent’s College this weekend where my girls had their end-of-the-season lacrosse tournament. Last year, it was very laid back. We played maybe four games, with an hour or two between each one to rest, eat, and walk around the college, which is private and very beautiful.
I didn’t get one picture.
Turned out that my team thought it would be a better idea to be badass as hell and destroy the other teams in attendance. We had 7 games total, practically back to back, and they surprised everyone by winning it all and coming out the best team in Western Pennsylvania.
Coaches fought and opposing team members cried. We walked by tents of players and coaches, looking at us in surprise, awe, and frustration. It was fantastic. At one point, a group of players provoked a rumble, and I had to calmly remind them that they were 14 years old.
It turns out that my girls were underestimated, even by me.
Upon seeing my younger cousin, Aris, for the first time in over two years, and realizing that he has grown from a prepubescent 5′5″ to a very sturdy 6′2″:
“My God! Are you a football player now?”
“No.”
“Lacrosse? Rugby?”
“No.”
“Do you play anything?”
“World of Warcraft.”
I have maybe three pieces of clothing that I really love. My favorite styles consist of high waists and full skirts, tall necklines and long sleeves. My family members often respond to this by offering me gift certificates to a convent, but until the “colonist look” comes back into style, I’m usually running around in mesh shorts and Nike T’s.
However! During my recent viewing of Spider-man 3, I was taken by a certain dress being worn by Kirsten Dunst. I’m still quite averse to her as an actress, but it’s so rare that I see an outfit I’m interested in that I leaned towards Derrick and told him, “I love that dress.”
I thought about the dress for a couple days, and then, THEN!, as I was browsing a local department store for cheap sunglasses, there it was, the same color, almost an identical cut. I stared at it for a moment, walked over slowly, and began rummaging for my size. There was only one left, and it was on the mannequin. I stopped myself from trying it on. I couldn’t afford it. I left the store almost immediately. When I got home, I told myself that if I was meant to buy the dress, I would get some sort of sign. Because these are the kinds of things I look for from a higher power.
I got ready for work and left.
Later that evening, a guy walked into the restaurant with a male friend. He was thin and nerdy — it was uncanny. He looked like Tobey Maguire.
As he left that night, the lookalike attempted to slip me his phone number. As I graciously declined, one of my male coworkers looked on, and snickered at me as I walked away. My face was red as I pushed him, and he called after me, “Hey, Rachel! You could be MJ!”
I picked up the dress this morning.
Wednesday, May 9th: Derrick and I met Ashley and John at the drive-in where we saw Spider-man 3. The weather was beautiful and I finally convinced Derrick to open his heart and accept Dave Matthews Band, as I have.
Venom was terrifying, enjoyable. I dug the badass Peter Parker.
Midnight, May 10th: Went to the bar, Derrick bought me my first drinks. Kept it cliché – Sex on the Beach, Buttery Nipples, some grape thing. Three drinks, I’m done.
Thursday Afternoon, May 10th: Showed up at lacrosse practice, was met with a garbage bag full of water balloons and 15 scheming girls.
Was drenched within seconds. We carried on with practice, I became slightly drier. With five minutes remaining, a parent showed up with another barrel of water balloons, and a 5-pack of silly string; was soaked again, only this time, with a bit more color. We also had Italian ice and Spider-man cupcakes.
Thursday Evening: Met Stephanie for dinner. Had a couple cocktails, was tipsy by the time they brought out the chocolate cake. Around 11, my coworkers took me to a tiny place that was completely covered in tacky Christmas lights.
It was wonderful. My dad came by, bought me a drink, made sure everything was mellow. Upon his leaving, multitudes of bitter shots were sent to the table, and I was gone by 1am.
Friday Morning, May 11th: Woke up in a horrible state, vowing to never drink again. Was dizzy and head-achy, tired and miserable. My girls had a game, and upon my arrival, cocked their heads at my crankiness. They declared that I was hung over. They demolished the opposing team.
Friday Evening: Met my mom, aunt, and grandfather at The Cheesecake Factory, still slightly nauseous. Drank a coke and some kind of strawberry daiquiri thing to suppress their desire to buy me a drink. Mom gave me her diamond earrings, I felt better.
Yesterday morning, I got a call from the head coach of the team my girls would be playing later that afternoon. She notified me that several of her players had been injured, or sick, and asked if I would allow her to use a couple of her middle school boys to replace them on the field. I agreed, of course. I hate to cancel games.
If you’re familiar with the sport of lacrosse, you know that girls are traditionally required to wear skirts/kilts along with their jerseys. Every player must be dressed identically, and even in this case, no exceptions were made.
If it wasn’t for the extreme height difference, the 6th-grade boys would have been much more difficult to spot among their female counterparts. I will openly admit that during many points in that game, I giggled a lot like the middle school girls.
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Is anyone else participating in 24 hours of Flickr?
From the group:
“What happens around the world in one day? In a word – life. Here on Flickr, our members are sharing the world that they see: snapping daily moments, recording history, telling stories, capturing beauty.”
After the submission period is over, they’re compiling their favorites into a book.
Luckily, my girls had an early game on May 5th. They continued their undefeated streak, and were understandably thrilled. I decided to submit a shot from the game, since it provides the best view into my daily life. I also changed my masthead to coordinate.
I’ve been done with school for about two weeks, spending my time sleeping, coaching, and waiting around for every other college to let out so summer can finally kick off.
It’s been a lackluster semester. No highly memorable classes, no new relationships, hardly any progress. At least yet. I’m still only about half way through rejection letters from the journals I sent work to about a month ago.
I turn 21 in ten days. I’m constantly being told that it’s overrated, that it’s the beginning of getting old, that it won’t be a big deal because I’m not exactly a drinker anyway. But why have I always shied away from the drunken house parties? Because beer is gross, especially when it’s beer purchased on a college budget. I don’t think I’ve ever really had alcohol that wasn’t shot out of a sticky glass or mixed with convenience-store orange juice. More doors are going to open and I’m excited to check things out.
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