Scenes from a ballgame...in pictures.

So the Cubs sucked on Saturday. Very frustrating. So, I found something else to amuse myself with. Turns out, almost my entire row and the row behind me were entertained with the same thing. This one dude's hair. At first, I thought of a slightly modified Flock of Seagulls 'do. He didn't really have the vertical aspect of FoS, though. The sides, instead of straight up, were slicked down with copious amounts of, uh, something greasy, shiny, sticky looking. I was trying hard not to get a visual from There's Something About Mary. The top portion was combed completely forward and came to a point in the middle of his forehead. The back was sort of left to it's own devices which resulted in a duck butt flappie thing of sorts sticking straight out of his crown where it was apparently rebuking the efforts to be brushed forward. The pictures aren't great 'cause I took them, slyly, with my cell phone.

My husband compared notes with the family sitting next to us and they came up with a likeness that had me nearly shoot beer outta my nose from laughing so hard...the villain, Syndrome, from The Incredibles.

The kicker, he and his buddies were making fun of this guy's hair...at least this guy had CLEAN hair.

And from the fashion tarded files...do NOT wear socks with the crocs outside of the house.

Some would say, don't wear crocs outside of the house period. But, that's another topic, another day.

A moment of clarity

There is a time, I would like to think, in everyone's life when you realize that things are beyond your control. Life is not what you think it is. No matter how hard you try to reign it in, life simply does not care. In the ebb and flow of life, you find yourself floating a bit. Pondering things. Wondering about your judgement. Thinking about choices you've made. Contemplating the where, the when, the why, the how. And, then there is *that* moment. Something clicks. In the periphery of the here or the now, there is that thing. The thing. The thing that makes you think, wonder, believe. The thing that makes you thank whatever you believe in for what you have.

Today, I had such a moment. One of those brief, fleeting moments when I looked at life and said "what the fuck am I bitching about?" Whatever it is or whomever it is, well, I've got a good life. I do. And, beyond living it the fullest that I can, well, I can't do a damn thing about it. Yesterday, my father would have been 66 years old. And, I ached about that. I wept for him. For the shitty and unfair situation that my kids are facing not knowing him. I am also pissed at the injustice. He's dead, but rapists and murderers live on. Where is the fairness in that? It is utter bullshit. And, then, I took my son to get a haircut. Something so simple. A part of a usual routine. Nothing extraordinary. Just a haircut. Okay, he came home with a, to quote my daughter, "rockstar" haircut, but still...it's just a haircut. Rockstar = high and tight with a bit of stuff to make the edge of his front bangs spike up.

The haircut. I'm standing there watching her take the clippers to my babe and it hits me. Wow. I had a kid. Holy shit...I've had two of 'em! Two, healthy, happy (when they aren't pissed off at me!) kids. And, where did that come from? The stylist whipped out the stick of wax and did my son's spiky bangs and he turned to me and grinned...and everything came to a screeching halt. That moment. Him, with his mini spiky bangs, grinning from ear to ear. Me, standing there holding a handful of hair bows for my daughter, looking at him and trying not to cry. And I felt my dad. I felt him inside of me. Looking at my son with the same wonder that I look at him and my daughter. The awe, the disbelief, the utter amazement. Laughing at his spiky bangs. Crying on the inside at the passing of his toddlerhood. My dad was with me. He was there.

I felt a strength, a presence, a reassuring hand. A 'punkin, it'll be alright' and I so needed to hear that. As I dozed on and off with a nap today, Dad floated in and out for me. I can't describe the comfort and the happiness that I felt.

What more can a Daddy's girl ask for?

And now, the "award" winning photo...

I love tennis

Even when I don't feel like crawling onto court, I still love tennis. Today, I was running on very few hours of sleep with a wicked headache and after warming up, I was thrilled to be out there. I lost a bit on my sabbatical, but I'm slowly getting my groove back. Seems as if after some time off, my serve has improved dramatically. And, I really did hit some legit winners. Ones that my pro really and truly could not get to. Woo hoo! I missed the sign up for league play this session, so I guess I need to drum up some other partners. Buggers.

Got my critiques back on my photos and one got Photo of the Week! *patting self on back* I'm really proud of this one as I truly do not like taking photos of humans. I expect to get winners when I stay in my comfort zone, so this one means a lot to me. Of course, I think my subject matter may have had a little bit to do with it since it was one of my kids. Not that I'm prejudiced or anything!

Tomorrow is looking like a pool day. I may try to run in the morning if I can snag a couple of spots at the club daycare. And, we have tickets to the Cubs tomorrow night. We only have two, so it will be a date night of sorts.

Thoughts and prayers to my friend, Mini, who went through her first round of chemo today. Those that believe send up a prayer for her, please. Those that don't, some happy, healing thoughts would be greatly appreciated.

ugh

So, after a couple of weeks off while my tennis coach was working at another club, I hit the court again today. I can tell, already, that getting out of bed tomorrow could be a major undertaking. My knees are throbbing. The shoulder in my right arm is creaking and groaning like an old screen door with rusty hinges. My plantar fascitis has reared it's ugly head. I'm fairly confident that I smell. However, I'm quite happy right now. Stupid exercise and the resulting endorphins.

Life in da' hood has been good. I'm taking another photography class. This time, I have to deal with humans though. I'm not sure how I feel about that. ~grr~ However, I do have a captive audience in my children. Getting my son to not ham it up is impossible though. The All Star break is over THANK GOD and my boys of summer are back to playing ball. It's a weird, weird feeling around here with them solidly in first at the halfway point and looking so good. I keep wondering what the temperature is in hell!

My daughter tried on her uniform last night. *sob* Her little plaid jumper and plaid pants. Yeah, nice, eh? Plaid pants. Thank God she is tiny 'cause there are few females that look good in plaid pants. The next few weeks will be filled with collecting the appropriate knee socks, tights, shoes. I can't believe I have a kindergartner. And, my son starts preschool. That's right everyone...it is no longer baby fat. It is officially just fat now. It's mine and I have to own it. Stupid fat. After the tennis and running sabbatical, I guess I shall get back to the grindstone.

Can I just say that the juice in the hot dog package really grosses me out?

I suck at blogging

Yeah, it's true. I guess I find it hard to believe that anyone out there really gives a rat's ass as to what is going on in my life. Yet, it is kinda fun to peer into the lives of others. Sorta like driving around the neighborhood and gawking at those that don't shut their blinds or pull their curtains.

The holiday came and went with little fanfare, which is good. Well, the usual shootings, death, and general mayhem that accompanies the 4th of July in Chicago. We, fortunately, avoided that. We did enjoy an evening out on the town that weekend where we went to Harry Caray's and watched the Cubs game. It was low key and nice and quite possibly the best Cosmo I've ever had in my life. Just the faintest of pinks, not sweet, and very smooth.

After the long weekend, began the onslaught of company. It's not unusual for us to have a lot of visitors in the summer. Oddly, no one wants to come visit in the winter. Hm. Wonder why? But, anyway, we stacked up three in a row...bam, bam, bam! In fact, the last arrives tomorrow and stays through the end of the week. It's all the more reason for me to get out of the house and hit the pavement. Well, save for it is supposed to be in the 90s. Methinks, I will be making an appointment for the kids at the gym daycare and running in air conditioned luxury.

I've not run much here of late as my usual pain in the ass knee has been being a pain in the ass. I'm not sure what is going on. Honestly, I've taken a few weeks off of tennis and I think that has impacted it. Let it get a bit loose. That's just my opinion after having dealt with chronic knee issues for the past 26 years. Damn, that makes me sound old.

I just have to relate the a fantastic day I had this past weekend. It was really one of those moments. The whole entire day, actually. A very dear family member was in town for the Cubs game. A good friend that I met through Weight Watchers used our extra ticket. DH went to the game also. And I was sitting in the stands just smiling. So much so that my cousin asked if I were ripped after one beer! No, no, I'm not. I'm just happy. Family, friends, and a beautiful day at the ballpark. What more could one ask for? Even the swamp ass from walking through the humidity to get to the ballpark was not a deterrent! Though I'm not sure that the beer vendor enjoyed the soggy bills. eh.

From there we met up with some of our friends from the kids' school, did a rooftop party, went back to a friend's house, and wound up the evening with a trio of great 80s cover bands at a local street fair. Family, friends, fun. I could not have asked for more out of one singular day in Chicago. Urban life is so weird and it has taken me a lot to get used to, but there was not a moment of that day that I would have traded. Sometimes, just sometimes, I really do think I like it here! Actually, more than not anymore.

How can I do nothing and be so tired?

It could, perhaps, have to do with a late night ballgame with Duck and her boyfriend at a Cubs game where there was mucho beer and a Chicago dog or two involved. Forgive me Father, for I have sinned...I put ketchup on my dog. And, yes, that is a transgression worthy of a few Hail Marys here in the 'hood. I claim ignorance though!

I had a blast with Duck and her man. We had great seats, though no foul balls despite her BF's preparedness with his 17 year old glove! ;-) It was a beautiful night at Wrigley. I made friends with the usher sitting next to me and Duck and I dished about all sorts of random, fun things! Sorta like a Girl's Night Out all wrapped up in a pretty package of a perfect summer night at the ballpark and tied with a beautiful ivy bow. Poor Duck's boy though. I felt for the guy! Two gabby girls talking about all sorts of stuff that he could not give two shits about. However, he was a great and amazing sport and I've heard from a lil' birdie that he had fun, too. Good fun.

Today we spent nearly five hours at the pool. My kids are self sufficient at the pool, so I get to perch on a lounge chair and chit chat with my girls. Or, I lounge on the side using a nice bucket snagged from an unsuspecting child to cool my gams whilst chatting. But, I'm pooped. I lounge around for five hours and I'm tired? What is up with that? It must be the heat. I fear I'm turning into my grandmother with the "it must be the heat." And, well, not getting my hair wet at the pool. Not that I was *that* woman, paddling around, chin in the air, with a horrid pained look on her face due to the neck strain of keeping perfectly coiffed hair above water! No, I was not that woman. However, if I show up in a plastic rain hood, someone shoot me! For without a doubt, if I pull out a plastic, folded up rain hood from my Queen Elizabeth style purse, then yes, I have become my grandmother!!! Not that she isn't a good woman, she is. I just have no desire to be Victorian.

My husband reports in that the sunlight in Alaska is weird. And, that's about all he has to say about that! I told him that it could be worse. He could be there when it is dark nearly 24 hours. And, to that he concurred. He's hoping to get out in the next day or so and actually get to do some sightseeing. I hope that he can! It's a shame to go all that way and not get to have some fun.

Later gators.

Go Cubs Go! Go Cubs Go!!! Hey Chicago...

...whadda ya say?

THE CUBS ARE GONNA WIN TODAY!

Or so I hope.

Yesterday's recap of life with Boiler...

We met up with a bunch of guys before the game. We walk up and the first thing out of one of their mouths (I've never met any of them) was if DH would be willing to take a job in Alaska for awhile. Huh?

I, of course, felt horribly out of place as several of them were trying to pick up women. eh. One was actually quite nice and told DH while I was in the bathroom, that I seemed like a very sweet and polite and person (apparently, the first impression I put out there is horribly awry!) and he was afraid to drop the f'bomb or the c word in front of me.

At which point, my husband exploded into hysterical laughter. Told the guy to fear not as I could out curse a sailor.

The ballgame itself was just DH, me, and two other guys. The other four had tickets elsewhere. It was a very close ballgame and those guys LEFT in the middle of the 7th to go to a freakin' bar! The Cubby Bear. Stupid suburbanites. Then, the two with us left with the ballgame tied in the 8th to meet up with them. Again, stupid suburbanites. The Cubs won with a walk off homer in the 9th.

I called a guy out for cutting in line at the beer stand. Just tapped him on the shoulder and said "hey, the line's back there." He told me to go to hell, there were three lines. I said I didn't think so. He told me to fuck off. I said "you don't have to be such a dick." He then started threatening me. Don't you ever fucking touch my shoulder again you stupid fucking bitch. Dumb cunt. I could kick your ass. I should kick your ass for touching my shoulder you dumb fucking bitch. I ignored all this, but the girl behind the counter (I see her many, many times a month and I always tip,) says "sister, I got your back and we could take that dick to the cleaners!"

Ah, the joys when the southsiders come to town.

We met up with the guys at the Cubby Bear. It was wall to wall, solid, people. Hotter than hell. Ripe with festering sweaty pits and stale beer. It was then, that I discovered I was no longer in my 20s. Occasionally, I have to be reminded of this. Brought home even more so just a scant 20' inside the door when some jackass made a grab for my tit. I rolled my eyes and moved on. DH, however, was not quite so nonchalant about it and got up in the guy's face. Do not EVER touch my wife. I think the guy was fucked up beyond all recognition because he just stood there with this stupid, blank look on his face and didn't say a word. I told Chuck to forget it and move on. Which, we did. THREE of this guys friends followed us, not really starting anything, but just all sorry and how we needed to let it go. Which angered Chuck. You friend tries to grab my wife's tit and I AM SUPPOSED TO LET IT GO?!? At which point, the last of the guy's goes...oh, I didn't see that. I just saw you get in his face. Oh dude, I'm sorry. He's an asshole.

We finally get to the bar, which is slam packed with people. We get our beers and I turn to see a Marine standing immediately behind me. I grabbed him by the shirt and propelled him into our space, knowing he would get served next. And, it shut out the bitchy girl basically climbing up my back to get to the bar. He professed undying love to me and should I ever dump my husband, to find him. Though, I forget now where he was stationed. **snort** Bitchy girl called me something vulgar. Uh, whatever, when you serve your country, I'll propel you to the front of the line, too. Oh, and you're just pissed 'cause hot bod, cutie patootie Marine in the hubba hubba uniform likes me better! So there! (of course, I think he was ripped!)

We finally got out of that hell hole after more talk of DH going to Alaska, my being grossed out by married men macking on 21 year olds and returned to the sanity of our 'hood. Where we were seated, at dinner, next to Sox fans. ugh. However, they turned out to be quite pleasant. And, actually the ones at the game seated near us, turned and shook our hands over the victory, others congratulated us.

It was, all in all, a good day 'cause the Cubs won, but definitely an interesting study in humanity.

Yesterday, Cubs 4, Sox 3.

Two outs to finish them up today.

Late night update, the Cubs spanked the Sox 11-7, after a glorious 4th inning.

GO CUBS GO! GO CUBS! HEY CHICAGO...