The Update... at last

I'm so behind, and I'm so sorry. I have a feeling a lot of lives were put on hold as anxious fingers kept refreshing the screen of this blog hoping, and waiting and wishing for resolution on the "hockey dad" story. My apologies, but I had to go get crazy in NYC with my sisters and blogging was forced to pay the price.

So here's the quick and dirty.

1. I got a response the same day as my email.
2. Apparently he had started to freak out about the whole "being ready to date" thing and entering the singles world. Understandable. I never left it and I still wonder each day if I'm ready for it.
3. He still wanted to see me.

I wrote back and told him that I had a bunch of unanswered questions myself about the situation and that the best approach was probably friends for now. Take it slow and just get to know each other. He agreed, we're going to get together soon, and frankly, I think it's the best possible solution and it makes me a lot more comfortable.

So I guess the lesson here is two-fold:

1. Don't listen to advice from anyone else (unless it's you Wallace.. asking me. Clearly you need to listen to my advice.)

2. Act authentically and honestly. (As long as you can handle truth - ie. a reason you didn't want to hear. Like the guy I heard on the radio today who had the station call a girl to find out why she wasn't returning his calls after a really good date - so good they slept together - and she told him it was because after they "hooked up" it freaked her out when he pulled out his asthma thingy and had to catch his breath. This is not a lie.)

And for sure, don't listen to everyone else.

A good book

One more quickie today.

We've got Keeley and Ben staying with us this weekend while their parents are off living the high life with no kids in Chicago. Keeley was having a major meltdown about losing them and I even heard her sobbingly tell her mom, "I will miss you every minute you are gone and never forget you. I will remember you more and more each minute you are gone."

To help her get over the pain, I took her to her favorite place - the mall. When we arrived, I told her I needed to go to the bookstore to get Uncle Abram a book. Here's the conversation:

Shauri: I need to get Abram a book.
Keeley: That's a good idea.
Shauri: Why?
Keeley: I think it will help him. He really needs to calm down - he's CRAZY!

Kids say the darndest things.

Stankonia

I've played softball my entire life. Started when I was about 7 or 8 and kept playing until about 2 or 3 years ago when I moved away from my city league team in DC.

I just came back to Ann Arbor and my sister Kristin invited me to play on a team she and some of her High School friends were on. I was excited to get back on the field...but there was a warning from Kristin. "Um...we're not so good."

Our team name is Stankonia, but I think we might want to just cut off the "onia."

Until I showed up to the field last night, I had no idea what that not so good really meant. 25-0. For example. Everyone on the team is athletic--most played basketball or track in high school or college. I thought if you're an athlete, you're an athlete. You can pick up anything--especially something as simple as softball. Didn't every kid play with a bat and a ball growing up? Not so.

I watched people completely mis-judge fly balls, even at times getting to the ball, (Jimar) but then swatting it over the fence instead of catching it to give the other team a home run. I watched people flying through the air (Rodney) as if to make a stunning catch, and even passing the ball in mid-air while shouting at the last minute, "It's your ball!"

The bad play isn't even the best part of this team though. I think the best part is our "fans" and the pitcher who showed up last night.

Pitcher first. She apparently had been recruited from a championship city league team. She was angry and wasn't messing around. She glared at everyone, even her own team and weighed in roughly at about 300 lbs. She got mad every time someone missed a play and finally made some comment like, "I'm leaving." She said it to the first baseman, John, expecting some sympathy but instead he replied, "OK, go." I'm sure as a star she is used to much more preferential treatment, so this comment maddened her and like an enraged stuck bull, mid inning, and maybe even mid-batter, she stormed off the mound and to the bench where she collected her things made a scene and left. Everyone who didn't hear the interaction was stunned on our team, and asking each other, "Did she get ejected? What happened?" Play resumed....without Ms. Anger Management. I haven't seen such high drama since the last episode of Flavor of Love or maybe the spin off, I love New York.
Now the Fans. I use the term loosely. One of the girls on our team - Ayesha - has a pretty large family, including extended family, who all want to come out and watch our games for some reason. They have a slightly different approach to being a fan though. They yell at everyone on our team and tell us what we're doing wrong.

For example, "Hey Pitcher...aim for the catcher's glove!" Or "Hey catcher, give the pitcher a target." or "Hey outfield...don't move in so close. The girls on the other team aren't inexperienced like your girls!"

Kristin warned me about this phenomenon, but I wasn't prepared when at shortstop, I let a ball get under my glove and I suddenly heard from the bench, "Hey...you gotta put your glove on the GROUND!" Great feedback.

All in all it was an interesting experience. I don't think I've ever played on a team so bad - and that includes my 7 year old team. The only good thing is it provides plenty of entertainment and lots to blog about. I'll try to get photos next time - including one of Ayesha's team jersey that was so tight she tried to stretch it out...then played all game with a hole in her shirt.

Ghetto? Yeah, we got your ghetto right here.

Updates

Looks like the "no's" were the strong winner in the email debate today, so I decided to wait until tonight to email. Thanks for the comments, and understand that I think the right side did win that vote. I just didn't want to follow good advice.

Truthfully, since I don't consider myself highly emotionally invested, and I don't care about the "result I create" and I need closure for the story on my blog, I sent the following email tonight:



"Hey you....are you OK? I never heard back from you so I was afraid you'd fallen and can't get up. If you have, put up some smoke signals and I'll send help immediately.

Seriously, I hope everything is fine.

If you've decided the tennis or baseball offer is off the table, please put my caramels under the slide by the pond on Lohr Rd. and let me know when to retrieve them."

At least I followed your (all's) advice on keeping it light, yes?

It may or may not have been the "right" move, and I guess we'll find out soon enough. I will say, that I do hope we have the chance to meet up again, but if not, I did sit next to a lovely English bloke on my flight home from Chicago today who practically trailed me home - I barely broke him off at the car. Maybe broke him off isn't the right way to say that... Who knows, he may have just been lost though - you know how backwards those Brits can be. I mean look at Maria.

True Love

Sometimes I realize that my approach to "finding love" is all wrong. You don't have to find it with a man or woman -- why limit yourself?

Just go buy yourself a lion cub and create a relationship that will span time and space.

Really - this is crazy--and touching. Two men bought a lion cub at Harrod's, back when you still could pick up exotic animals at the mall, and raised him until he got too big to care for and feed. Then they brought him back to Kenya and released him to the wild where he got his own pride and adapted. Years later the men wanted to go back and see if the lion would remember them. All advisors told them - BAD IDEA - a lion will not remember you once it is back in the wild and you will become not so much dearly beloved parent as much as thoroughly enjoyed lunch. Take a gander for yourself at what happened:

Kids having kids

Yeah. So I came home last night and rifled through my mail only to discover an envelope that was clearly a wedding invitation. My curiosity was piqued to see which of my friends was getting married... for the second time.

Imagine my shock and surprise to discover it was my cousin's daughter. MY COUSIN'S DAUGHTER. My cousin who is maybe 5 or 6 years older than me. Should that person have a child old enough to get married? I mean, I'm not even old enough to have children. When did babies start having babies?

It's time I faced the facts - my cousin got married way to young.

The Vote

By way of a quick count on where the vote stands:

4 don't email (yet)
3 do email
3 no decision

The polls stay open until midnight, and then I will do exactly what I want anyway.
(Isn't that how it usually works with dating and advice?)

Destiny?

Talk about irony. I post a blog last night about someone (with a fictional name) that I wanted to get an email from... and the very next morning in my email box what do you imagine is waiting for me? (Please note this new guy's screen name in the Grey box.)



A person with almost that exact fictional screen name. Who says God, or at least the God of Match.com doesn't have a clever sense of humor? Could this be my destiny - am I really supposed to be with a "hockey dad?" I'm going to assume not...since there is no picture included.

You think you're as confused as possible...

And then you realize you're still single and the confusion will only deepen with each passing year.

A couple posts back I mentioned a date with a guy we'll call hockeydad. Not his handle, but it suits. I thought things went really well, (surprisingly so) and right after the date he went home and sent me the following message:

"I had a good time tonight and enjoyed our conversation.
I would assume you got home safely as I didn't see any fireballs on the way home.
I feel like we only scratched the surface and would like to continue the banter....are you up for a baseball game or some tennis?
Plus, I think I owe you a caramel or hot chocolate."

He obviously completely disregarded "The Rules" and didn't wait the obligatory time frame to make the next move, and even appeared to ask me out for another date.

I responded the following afternoon (Friday). And he hasn't contacted me since.

The way I see it there are 3 options why:

1. My email was so appalling or scary that it totally changed his mind.

2. My email never got to him.

3. He died, or switched teams.

My gut tells me it's one or two. For the sake of learning and progress I am going to share the email I sent to him and get your thoughts:

"You didn't see any fireballs because you entered Stonebridge on the wrong side. Major explosion off Lohr. I'm OK now though, thanks.

Ditto - it was a good AND enlightening conversation. It was especially interesting to learn why your ideal match makes 50K and why you hate Matt Damon. :) (I'm putting the smiley face because I don't know if we know each other well enough yet for you to get that I'm teasing. Try to count on the fact that 80% of the time I am so we can conserve smileys for those who need them.)

You definitely owe me caramels, the hot chocolate is a little more sketchy. Not sure which way a court of law would rule on that. Maybe check with your sister and I'll accept whatever verdict she passes. Baseball or tennis would be fun. I'm not sure tennis would be so fun for you though... I think you're probably a bit too good for me Mr. Monday night league. But if you have patience we can do it. I failed to mention my brother and sister-in-law also live in Stonebridge--maybe we can do some doubles. Then I won't have to cover as much court, I can be on your team and you can just be upset with them. :)

Have a good night."

Now I'd like you to weigh in on a couple things people(I'm especially curious to hear from any men on here so don't be shy.)

1. Should I reach out to contact him again. Is there even a slim chance he didn't get it?
2. Is my email scary?
3. What the *&*&%^#& happened?

This is your time America - your opinion matters and this is a vote where you'll truly be heard.
Go.

Random musings

I'm home. Or, at least back in Michigan. Hard to really know where home is these days. I always have a suitcase in hand, and I'm always packing and unpacking, and truth be told---I never have that feeling like "I'm going home" anywhere I go. Is this good? bad? I don't know- the jury's still out.

Speaking of which, I have my first every jury duty tomorrow. Obviously I'm thrilled. So thrilled that I am trying to come up with creative ways to NOT be selected. Like answering all their questions with questions...or crazy answers. Example:

Lawyer: Have you ever been asked to be a juror?
Me: Have you?

Lawyer: How do you feel about the death sentence.
Me: I hear hot sauce is great on watermelon.

I'll let you know how it goes. And if this brilliant tactic works---or if I end up getting carted off to the loony bin. Either way, I figure it will make good blogging material. Do they let you have a computer to blog in a loony bin?

The most interesting thing that happened today (speaking of loony) was walking back towards my sister's bedroom and discovering Keely (niece-4.5 yrs) and Max (nephew - 3 yrs) creating art out of my sister's, maxi-pads.

Well, they were actually the mini-pads. When I stumbled upon them and said, "OHHHHH you two are busted." Keely jumped up and in complete self-preservation mode said, "It was Max's idea." Kind of makes sense that it would be, since there could be a potential name-link (Max-i pad) and thus a draw for him. Anyway, they had peeled off hundreds of backings and made sculptures out of them as well as (and this is truly clever) shoes for Max. It was really so brilliant and clever I had to applaud them, and send them to give their creations as gifts to Kristin. I mean, technically she owned them already, but possesion is 9/10 of ownership or something like that. Which I will remember in court tomorrow if necessary.

I believe Kristin is planning to blog about this with pictures, so you can see her blog for more details. It did remind me of one reason why I am thrilled to be back. No one in Utah ever made stuff out of sanitary napkins. Let the good times roll.