The Alley Cats

Did I tell you I'm in a bowling club?

Well, I am.

It's just a small group of girls getting together to enjoy a great, all-american game. A once-a-month thing where we come together and work to improve our skill at a game revered particularly in the upper Midwest region of the country as a source of entertainment during the long 6-month winters. Just a casual affair at the lanes.

We're called the Alley Cats.

My friend Ashley started the club. When she was at a garage sale somewhere in Connecticut, she happened upon a trophy featuring a bronze woman with a mid-calf length skirt and a bowling ball in her hand. Her form was expert. And Ash knew she must have it. And that she needed a bowling club for it to belong to.

So, after only positive feedback from a dozen other girls, she started that club.

The Alley Cats.

The group is composed mostly of women who, in general, like to bowl, but who may not consider themselves very good bowlers. Most of the members claimed an excitement to improve their game.

I say most because I do not belong to that mentality. I happen to be a lovely bowler with great form and decent skill. I'd like to get better, but I do consider myself to be a good bowler already. I got because I actually love bowling and want to go back to my younger years when I played more frequently. And this is my outlet.

And Ashley decided that, to make this club fun and worthwhile, the trophy would be awarded at the end of each club meeting to the girl with the best combined score after two games.

I'm not allowed to compete for the trophy most months.

It was a stipulation when I talked Ashley into letting me be part of the club. I'm there to enjoy the camaraderie with the women, improve my own skills, and give tips and pointers to anyone in want.

I'm the unofficial Coach of the Alley Cats.

The Mama Cat of the Alley Cats, if you will.

So I'm not able to play for the trophy - yet. I'm determined to help all the others get so good that they can rival me in scoring, so that I may yet earn that beloved prize one day.

But our inaugural club meeting was just last week, and we aren't there quite yet. Though a number of the girls were better than they proclaimed. And in the end, my roommate won the trophy that night, so it sits on our mantle - a trophy shared between us.

And I can't wait until 5 months from now, when our monthly meeting at the lanes becomes recognized by the other patrons, who wait and watch to see - who will be the Top Cat tonight? Who will take home the trophy?

They'll know us as the Alley Cats.

Are You a Dancer? A Sequel

Every few months, someone comes along and, in passing, asks me if I'm a dancer.

Perhaps it's the grace and poise with which I naturally carry myself.

Or perhaps it's my long, limber body which I've retained since my prior dancing days (back when I was 6 years old…*cough*)

It also might be that I like to stand in 3rd position sometimes when I'm just hanging out because I think it's comfortable...

A camera crew was in our office today to interview my boss for a video montage, and as they were cleaning up, the woman conducting the interview was chatting casually with me. At one point, she asked me if I was a ballet dancer.

I said no, unfortunately I'm not, though I don't mind being mistaken for a member of the Washington Ballet Company, which she had referenced in her question. She smiled and said I should take a class - whether ballet or something else - because it is really fun. And I commented that I was once a dancer, and I should get back in prime shape.

This wasn't the first time I'd been asked that, and I'm crossing my fingers it's not the last…I like to pretend like I actually look like a dancer,  so I appreciate those who feed my delusions.

But this semi-common question actually spawned from the inexplicably-common comment that soon followed in explanation: "Oh, you just look a lot like someone who dances with the Washington Ballet Company."

People, I get this kind of comment ALL THE TIME. Apparently I look like about 1/5 of this entire planet's population. Seriously. I look and/or have the same mannerisms as just about 1 million other people. Random strangers are constantly reminding me that we met the other day at that party I didn't go to hosted by that person I don't know. Casual acquaintances are always telling me it's scary how much I remind them of their best friend from 6th grade or their 3rd cousin, twice-removed.

Seriously, I think this happens about once a week. Not exaggerating.

But at least the person I call to mind is always someone they like a whole lot and think is so so so great (so they say), so luckily I only look/act like really ridiculously cool people whom my acquaintances really like a lot.

Also Jessica Biel.

So there's that.

I once met one of those people someone thought I was exactly like, and I didn't see it at all - not in looks or speech or quirks. So I'm also losing my confidence in people I meet and their opinions.

But there was that one time when I was waiting in line for a ride at Lagoon with my sister and brother-in-law, and we saw my 14-year-old self standing about 20 people behind us…and that was legitimately eerie. Even I was confused when I saw her. So I guess there is something to this...

Single Male Seeking Friendship

It feels like it hasn't happened too often lately, but maybe that's because I've been better at leaving work while rush hour is still happening, so I've been surrounded by hordes of businessmen and daily commuters too much.

But today 3/4 of DC shut down, due to dangerous white snowflakes lightly falling from the sky as though in a dream, from between about 7am - 11am, so most of my usual comrades were tucked snugly in their homes enjoying a rare family dinner together at 6:30pm while I was on my way home from work this evening.

And perhaps I should be grateful for that, because with so many people around usually, you have less opportunity to be chatted up by charming disheveled young men with dreads and a missing tooth. I've been missing those moments lately, so I was glad to finally get some attention tonight.

I was walking to my normal spot to catch my connecting train at the metro when I caught his eye.

With no rush to catch the train since it was still 4 minutes away, and no crowds to push me too uncomfortably close to the edge of the platform, I suppose I looked a little more serene and calm than usual, and I was walking with a slight smile on my face as I indulged in all the space I had around me. As I passed a youngish man, I felt him look at me as he said, "how you doing, beautiful?"

Alas, I caught his words in my ear too late, for I had already passed him by with not even a glance of my eyes toward him!

I stopped at my usual spot about 10 feet away from him, hoping the train would come soon as I pulled out my phone to read an email while I waited. As I stood there, I could see out of the corner of my eye that my unknown paramour was coming toward me. Wondering whether he was about to come and steal my phone (it's a constant worry in the back of my head, due to the continual voice recordings at the metro warning you to keep you phone tight in hand or put away so no one steals it…c'mon people!) or hit on me, I kept my eyes locked on my screen, my phone in a vice-like grip.

And then I hear, "how you doing, beautiful?"

I parried with, "Good, how are you?"

Mon amour cut right to the chase:

lover: "You married? Got a husband?

me: "Uh, no. But I'm in a relationship*."

I thought that might've been the end, but to my surprise, the dance continued:

lover: "Could you have a friend?"

me: "Could I have a friend? Uh, yeah, I guess…"

lover: "How about you get my phone number and I'll get yours and we'll talk and stuff sometimes?"**

me: "Oh, ha, I don't think my boyfriend would like that too much" {smiles apologetically}

lover: {smiles charmingly} "Oh, but it'd just be as friends. Right? That's not okay?"

me: "I'm sorry! But I think I'll have to decline*** this time. But thank you!"

lover: {smiles graciously} "Okay, have a good night, take care."

me: "Have a good one" {smiles awkwardly}

And then he walked off - my chance for happiness walked away and out of my sight. On to the next beautiful lady.

I don't regret my decision. I think it was for the best. I mean, what did I have to offer him? What could I have brought to the table anyway? I would've held him back. I couldn't make him happy.

But I really do hope his earnest search for friendship works out for him. There must be someone out there in need of a phone buddy - maybe he'll find them somewhere down that metro platform!

____________________________

*It took me about 10 years too long to realize this was always the right response, regardless of your actual relationship status - I only started answering that way naturally about 18 months ago…why I didn't just say yes to the married question is beyond me, since that's the ultimate right answer, but I get too nervous they'll call my bluff when I wasn't quick enough to move a ring to that finger, you know? Why I get nervous about their response is ridiculous. But that only seems fitting for me…

**Sadly, that might've worked on me about 2 years ago still. Not that I actually thought we'd become great friends, but more that I'd be too anxious and awkward to not just say "uuhhhh, okay" and give him my number. And maybe not even a fake number, because I wouldn't have been quick enough in the moment! Luckily, these conversations never really got to that point before, so I haven't had to worry too much about the consequences…I've been rather lucky most of my life, I'll just go ahead and say it.

***I actually said "decline" - how nerdy is that?! But super effective. He accepted that immediately. Let us never undervalue the power of that word!

Please Excuse the Radio Silence

I've neglected you, blog friends (and stalker). I'm sorry. The government shutdown and its stresses left me a shell of who I was, and I've spent the last month putting back the pieces.

Plus, I've been listening to a lot of Christmas music. It takes a lot of my focus, which leaves me little time for anything else.

Sidenote - 98 Degrees, "The Gift" was, is, and always will be one of my very favorite Christmas songs. Also, Fact (and common knowledge): Mariah Carey's 1996 Christmas album is the best ever Christmas album by one artist, hands-down. Even the Amazon.com customer comments recognize this. Because duh.

Also, I've been pretty busy making pretty things and creating a general air of festive merriment and good cheer around here.

Like what, you ask? Oh, just decorating and stuff.

First, there was this gem I'm pretty proud of - our Thanksgiving dinner table Mayflower centerpieces at our ward activity. They were a total hit. Particularly the fruit snack sharks. I just wanted to give it a more real feel, you know?

Then, when I got out of work Wednesday before Thanksgiving, my roommates were all gone and it was the perfect time to blast Christmas music and officially get into the Holiday spirit by decorating my tree. It is now fully complete with an angel tree topper. I'm pretty proud of my little guy.

And my post-Thanksgiving/lazy Friday activity - I made a yarn wreath for our front door while watching any and every movie the tv told me I should watch. There was a lot of Harry Potter going on here. But it started out on a great note with a little Sixteen Candles; I knew right away it was going to be the best day.

I'm really proud of that wreath. It looks so good on our door!

Then Abby and Co. came and spent Thanksgiving afternoon/evening with me! I love family, aren't they the best?

Oh and then, I went on a card-marking binge - I offered a set of 10 homemade birthday cards for an auction our congregation is doing to raise money to get Christmas gifts for underprivileged families in the area. This is an annual tradition for us, and it always brings in a good amount of money and reaches a ton of families. So I was glad I could participate in some of the offers this year.

My personal favorite:

And a sampling of the others:

Needless to say, I had a really, really great and relaxing Thanksgiving holiday. I didn't even leave my house on Friday…and it was wonderful.

And then Monday rolled around and it was time to get back to the real world…

And how do you get back to reality any better than with this??

My first jury duty summons!

It was very exciting, friends. I got pulled up for the general jury selection. There were 20 of us, and 12 get chosen at the end, after the prosecution and defense strike 4 people each from the list based on answers to their questions for us about different things. Mostly, "do you have a problem with this or that? Would it affect your judgment of this or that?" We had a few people with problems to different things that were big enough that they were excused right away and replaced with other people in our group. But as the questioning went on, I felt like we didn't have too many people in our group that were  giving responses that would pull them off the jury - we had about 4 people who answered opposite of the crowd, so I figured the attorneys would strike them off, just because they need to get rid of 8 people. And I was getting more and more unsure that I'd be a good and partial juror, listening only to the arguments of the court and blah blah blah, and there had been a number of questions where I thought, "I could probably have said something there that I disagree with…" so when another question like that came up, I took it! Everyone probably thought I was crazy because it really wasn't a big deal, but I figured I was helping more than anything - it made the attorneys' job of lessening the jury easier.

And when the time came, I was struck out. I stayed to listen to the opening statements, though - the prosecution was much more engaging and persuasive. But I don't know how it turned out; I forgot the defendant's name and I haven't really felt like putting much effort into tracking down the case. But I'm just glad I wasn't on the jury. It was just kind of a smaller case and even with just the opening statements, I had all sorts of ethical dilemmas and worries. Thank goodness there are better people out there in the world who can shut their own feelings off and look at the case according to the facts and arguments provided…because I've learned that I cannot.

Anyway, that's boring, so let me leave you with something a little more exciting:

ROOOOOOAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shutdown Island, Survivor's Log

Survivor's log, Day 14:

The day passed quicker today - perhaps we've finally learned how to live more comfortably, or perhaps we're delusional with the unfounded hope of rescue. 4 of us still live on this island. Water source was replenished in the afternoon, though cups are running scarce. Quality of life has improved after we stumbled upon a forgotten bag of chocolate covered almonds, perhaps left purposely by the last inhabitants of this island, knowing the boon it would be for those who would inevitably arrive here after them. Ventured out, away from our office haven today - we found tacos, it brought much needed joy and excitement to our monotony. Glad we could enjoy one of the few beautiful days this island has seen since we arrived. Morale has been low since we found ourselves stranded here - it was nice to feel a sense of hope and optimism, no matter how distant or nonexistent it may be.

Found some work to do today, felt productive. But the hardships of survival got to us by the afternoon - had to come up with challenges and competitions to keep sane.

Now enjoying the blessed reprieve of evening. The hallucinations of ringing phones and angry people subside in the starry night and friends of old come and entertain me with stories and jokes and back scratches and smiles. Is it all a dream? A figment of my imagination? If so, I will not argue. Real or imagined, I will enjoy the company. For tomorrow is another day, and I need all the strength I can muster from those memories to make it through another day.


End of log.

All Work and No Play

I NEED THIS GOVERNMENT SHUTDOWN TO END!!!!!

I'm seriously going crazy. I can't handle it. It's weird, because it should just be business as usual - it's not like all that much is different in the day.

But there are fewer of us in the office - and those of us who have been there these past two weeks have really bonded. Which is great, except that a lot of our bonding seems to come at times when we think we're about to go insane, so conversation seems rather skittish and maybe more open than necessary.

It's like I'm both bored and over-worked. I'm exhausted and I just want a district work week where my boss goes to California and his district workers take care of him and I catch up on things and not worry about where my boss is at every moment and whether he'll make it back for his meeting or not, or whether he'll make it to votes on time or not (somehow he always does), or when he'll leave the office. They keep canceling our district work weeks, and I CAN'T HANDLE IT!

I'm about to crack, and I don't think I'll be the only one.

I really think there's just this stress of the unknown that's slowly (quickly) burning us all out.

And the people calling all the time, yelling at us about things that are far beyond my control as scheduler to one of 435 congressmen.

Is it too much to ask? Would you mind just being a little bit nice to me? I know life sucks right now and times are hard and everyone in DC is stupid and everyone in the country agrees with you that Congress should do this or pass that, and that it's just not that hard, and I'll let my boss know how you're feeling - trust me, I know that. But would you mind lowering your voice just a bit and not cursing at me? Your message is a lot easier to pass on to the Congressman when it's not filled with expletives - because I won't say those, so your message is getting distorted anyway.

To be fair, I've had a number of people calling who were frustrated with the way things are going, but who were very nice to me. I appreciate you all - you make my day much better. Thank you for that.

I've been straight complaining for 2 weeks now, and I just can't seem to stop. So I'm sorry to everyone I've traded more than 5 words with these last 10 days. You did not get me at my best. I'll try to be better, really. I've started looking at pictures of kittens and puppies again, so my spirits are lifting. And at some point, I will clean my room and get my non-work life organized, and I think that will make me feel better.

And I finally finished a really beautiful book, which I've been trying to find time to read for awhile. So now I can finally return it to the library, a month past the 30 day due date (oops). That is, if there's anyone not furloughed who can come pick it up right now...

Pickup Lines at 9am on the Way to Work

I was on my way to work the other morning. I happened to be running a bit late (what's new?), but I was still catching the end of the morning rush hour, so it felt like the normal business crowd around me as I worked my way through the metro cars.

My mornings aren't usually interesting. I get to the metro, I jump on a train, I get to work. Occasionally, I see some elbows get thrown. But that usually happens more at 8:30am, when the trains are fullest and people still have a chance of making it to work on time. Not at 8:50am, when all of us boarding already know we're going to be late, so we don't fight it.

Anyway, mornings aren't usually interesting.

But the other day, I was heading down from one train platform to another, to switch trains, and I got to the platform, where a train, of course, had just closed its door and pulled out (jerk train). So I started walking down the platform to "my spot" where I place myself on the train at the door that lets me out right at the escalator at my stop. Time savers - the more you ride the metro, the more you learn prime locations to save time getting out of the metro for when you're running late.

Anyway, this is too long of an introduction to a very short story. Let's start over.

The other day, I was on my way to work, and I was walking along the platform for a train, and I passed this guy - I barely saw him there; definitely didn't make eye contact - and I had almost completely passed him when I heard, "How you doin,' sexy?"

And I kept right on walking, with no visible or vocal response.

First, it took him a while to get that comment out - I was practically completely beyond him, and I only just caught that mumble as I walked away. Dude, if you want a response, you've got to speak up while I'm still around to respond.

Second, I had the thought that maybe he was calling his girlfriend or someone, and happened to say that on the phone at a time when I could've taken it as being directed toward me. Which just makes me look foolish to take affront at such a comment. But it was 9:10am, so that just didn't seem likely.

Second.5, it was 9:10 IN THE MORNING. Who even says the word "sexy" that early in the morning?  Doesn't that just seem too early to be saying such comments? I'm barely awake, I don't have time to be hit or focus to be hit on by some dirty stranger, okay? It just seemed silly.

Third, I was in work clothes with air-dried frizzy hair and a Tuesday morning scowl. I guess that's sexy to some guys - dude didn't seem at all like one of those guys.

I mean, I get it, I'm a very attractive, strong, confident, interesting, smart, twenty-something single female. Dude's gonna be attracted to that, naturally. It's just life.

But 9am is no time to express it. Because all you're gonna get is a non-responsive, scowl-faced-because-I-don't-want-to-be-going-to-work-right-now, grumpy, not-a-morning-person, girl walking right past you with no glance back to acknowledge the "compliment."

Try me later, when I'm coming back from work. Depending on the day, I could really use the laugh.

But if you're really hitting on me in the metro, chances are you're actually likely just to get my metro face.


*I actually am just naturally friendlier in the evenings than I am in the mornings. I'm not a morning person. I can barely talk to friends coherently/interestedly in the mornings. But evenings generally work okay. A few weeks ago, I even got invited to a Nationals baseball game by two strangers who were waiting for a less crowded train to the stadium (like that even exists!). The invite came after I had made friends with 3 women also looking to get on a less-crowded train, so they could go home - these guys heard us chatting, and I made sure they helped the women squeeze onto a train, after they had asked if I was hoping to board and I responded I was going a different direction. Once my new friends had safely boarded their train, one of the guys, probably about 40 years old, told me I should come to the game with them. All I wanted was to go home and stop sweating (mid-Summer, what can you do?), so I declined their invitation...but I considered it. Because how often do any of us just go to baseball games with random strangers? Never. That's how often. One day, I'll be brave and do something random. One day...