For The Championship of The World...

So we're having a party for my brother's graduation tomorrow. My uncle brought over his "Washers" game for everyone to play. For those who don't know its kind of like playing bags or cornholes, just more annoying. Basically it's two boards with three holes cut in them. They kinda look like stoplights and one person stands on one side and tries to throw washers, yes washers-the-things-you-use-with-nut-and-bolts, into the holes on the opposite board. The closest hole is worth one point, the next is worth two, and the farthest hole is worth three. First team to 21 wins (there's two people on a team). So my uncle brought this over tonight so I thought I would work on my "Washers" skill and get a jump on kicking everyones' ass tomorrow (yeah right). Basically, I was practicing in the hopes of not making an ass of myself tomorrow. ANYWAY. I realized as I practiced that I still do that thing in my head...

Before I threw a washer I would say to myself, "This is for the championship of the world..."

I used to do it when I shot hoops, or played street hockey. I would imagine I was some really important player, on some really important team, down by a few points with only a few seconds left to play...and I had the puck or ball or whatever. And just before I'm ready to make that dramatic, game-turning play, I say in my head (or sometimes outloud), "This is for the championship of the world."

Apparently, I still do that. Just with "Washers."

I even found myseld saying this in my head, "Cornelius has had a hard run tonight. Her throws have been kind of "off" to put it nicely. But I've never seen someone pull it out of the bag quite the way she can. She can take everything back here if she can just land this last washer into the three-hole. That would be all it would take. This is, after all, for the championship of the world..."

And then I threw my last washer and it promptly klunked off the side of the board and to the right, just missing the nice pile of poop my dog just left...

"Granted it has been difficult play for Cornelius tonight. Molly, her deranged toy-poodle has been chasing down each washer as she throws. And I know Cornelius is a kind-hearted animal lover and doesn't want to klunk a dog this size in the head with a washer as it would probably knock the dog out. So now Cornelius just has to wait for the dog to stop sniffing the washer...and clawing at it...well now she has to wait for the dog to stop staring at her waiting to throw the next washer...and...ok...looks like the dog has taken interest in the pile of crap she left earlier..."

Damn. What I wouldn't give to score the winning point for The Championship of The World. Then maybe they'd make a movie about me.
Sweet.


Anyway. In other news. No responses from the "Missed Connections" ad I posted on craigslist. Oh, the pain of being slighted even by the crazies. Maybe I'll get one yet, but I have to admit I'm a little disappointed. Not that I expected ice cream girl to respond, I expected a lot crazy answers from Chicago's (or maybe California's) crazy lesbians. And in case you thought I was kidding about the women4women missed connections section being full of drama and broken dreams....here's a gem I picked up...

"You're the one I sit near all night, noticing you across the bar, and when I finally get up the courage to talk to you, you've already left with your friends. You're the one I find on some web site, and we e-mail back and forth. I invest my time, and intellect, you do the same, and I begin to feel the urge to meet. But then something happens: your ex shows up, and you don't wish to 'hurt' me, or worse still, you decide that you've already met 'the one' who happened to contact you just before I did, and you want nothing from me, not even a friendship. Or you write, and sound interesting, we exchange photos, set a date, and suddenly, I never hear from you again. Do you exist? I believe you do, and in hopes that the universe respects this attempt at putting it out there, I hope to meet you soon."

...And lest I run the risk of being sued for plagarism for posting that little piece of "late-night-lesbian-poetry-slam" material, I will credit the author as being some drama-ridden, broken-dreamed, lesbian living somewhere in the greater Chicago area. In case you're wondering, my tone now is sub-dued and serious. Not the normal tongue-in-cheek-spunky-random-slightly-sarcastic-tone. Because I fully realize that this lesbian could one day be me.

I am going to die alone with 40 cats and a hot tub in a studio apartment...I see it before me like a vision...I wonder if you're allowed to have a hot tub in a studio apartement...pretty sure 40 cats are cool. But I don't know about the hot tub. So maybe I'll die alone with 40 cats and a jacuzzi tub in a studio apartment. Hm. Yes. That seems more reasonable.

So in case you're wondering some more...I took myself off the personals website. Match.com just freaks me out too much. You'd probably feel the same way if you the only "wink" you got was from a 37 year-old in California. I'll meet any potential lesbians the old-fashioned way...by stalking them at coffee shops.

So aside from scoring the winning point for the championship of the world...I also wish I could sing and dance. I saw Hairspray and since that moment I've wanted to dance through the streets of the suburbs singing "Welcome to the Sixties."
Go Mama! Go! Go! Go! Musicals make me so happy inside. I feel like I should hate them as a serious student of theatre. Musicals are trite theatre-of-the-man. Yet I love them. It makes me wonder if I am part gay man.


So this blog started coherant and has now dissolved into random fits. Oh well...

HEY! I just remembered. Why the hell are you reading my blog, don't you know its SHARK WEEK??? AHHH!!! SHARK WEEK! I've already watched three hours of it. One whole hour was devoted to my favorite shark, The Great White, and what happens when it attacks people (most of the time it doesn't just want a big hug like I originally thought) (most of the time it wants to see if you're a crippled seal and good for eating. It does this by ripping your leg or some other extremity off or out). I also watched this show on how these Great White Sharks (my buddies) breach off the coast of South Africa. It is crazy. They literally jump all the way out of the water to snag some poor seal swimming on the surface. I feel bad for the seal, but it also one of the craziest things I've ever seen. Whenever I see it, for a second I believe that my worst nightmare have come true and Great White Sharks have learned how to fly. Because as much as I like Great White Sharks...I sure as hell never want to meet them. I mean I do know some karate but I highly doubt that would intimidate a shark. ANYWAY. If you haven't see sharks breach, I would advise an immediate trip to youtube. Oh here, I'll just give it to you:


P.S. WATCH THE WHOLE THING!!

WORD OF THE DAY
Just because I was curious what it would say in the dictionary...
GREAT WHITE SHARK: a large and dangerous shark of warm seas that has large saw-edged teeth and is whitish below and bluish or brownish above.

And now. In a sentence:
Sweet baby Jesus! The Sharks have evolved to master the art of flight! We're doomed!

QUOTE OF THE DAY:
This comes, as many quotes of the day do, from the studio....
KID A: How old are you?
ME: 21.
KID B: Whoa! She's old enough to play games rated "T."
KID A: She's old enough to play games rated "A."
All the kids then oooo and ahhh. And I feel old.