Do you ever wonder how many opportunities you are presented with throughout any given day? I suspect that there are many more than we tend to realize. I know that when I am going through my day on auto-pilot it takes something unusual, extraordinary, or annoying to catch my attention. Today it was something in the "Annoying" category that made me think twice and recalibrate.
It was just minutes before my lunch break, and I was getting really, really hungry. All I could picture was a fat, juicy, ridiculously oversized burger and a pint of cold beer (for medicinal purposes). I imagined spending an hour in a relaxed little sports bar, some funny old dudes talking crap with the bartender and a few guys in dress shirts wearing their ties over the shoulder. Maybe a couple of guys with tattoos having a smoke on the patio. You know, a little slice of heaven in the middle of a work day. That was what I pictured. My reality? A bit different...
After navigating my way through a construction zone to access the parking lot, I went to check out a little sports bar that I hadn't been to and anticipated my fat burger and cold beer. On my way in, saw a guy on the patio with tats and smoke. (Check) Inside, lots of funny old guys around the bar chatting it up. A couple of booths and tables with dress shirt guys, some ties over the shoulder, some braving the bbq sauce with wild abandon. (Check, check) I found a stool near the back and watched some hockey and waited for the server to come take my order. Mmm, burger. Mmm, beer. The waitress came to deliver a pitcher to the table of dress shirts next to me; didn't acknowledge me. OK, I thought, I'm sure she'll be right back. She came back to the shirts with a pizza, and promptly left again-- still not acknowledging my presence. The shirts, at least they noticed me. Finally little Miss Can't Be Bothered came over and said, "Did you want something?" Um, really? I would have probably opened with, "Hi, what can I get for you?" instead of assuming that my sole purpose for coming there at lunch hour was to NOT eat or drink anything. But hey, that's just me. I sucked up my growing irritation and said "Yes, I would love a burger and a beer." "Oh, we don't make burgers," she said before rattling off some lame sandwiches and closing with a vaguely insincere "Sorry." I politely excused myself and thanked her for her time (ok-- that may have been vaguely insincere) and went back on my quest, annoyed and hungry.
Battling back through safety cones and torn up streets, I headed back towards the office wondering what to eat. I obviously wasn't going to have time for a beer now, which was fine. Probably for the best. At last and after a mini-meltdown in the car prompted by hunger and raging PMS, I pulled into the In-n-Out and found a parking space (small miracle in itself). #2, no onions, Diet Coke w/lemon. A different slice of heaven, and it was just fine. As I was finishing off my burger, a very dirty, very weathered homeless man came and quietly sat at the table next to me. I watched people in the restaurant look at him with unbridled disgust, and it hurt my heart. "How're ya doin'?" I asked him. He looked at me and just shook his head. I didn't have a response for that. I nibbled some fries, two at a time (it's my thing) and sent up a silent little prayer. God, what do you want me to do? I gathered up my trash and my purse, asked the gentleman if he had ordered yet-- he just shook his head. "May I buy your lunch?" I offered, and he quietly said "Thank you, Miss." I went and placed his order, returned and gave him the receipt and a cup. "Here you go- you're order #4, so when they call your number go ahead and pick it up. I'll let you get your own drink, okay? Take care, brother." He whispered another thank you, and I went back to the office.
Seems to me the opportunity to feed a hungry old man and show a bit of kindness trumps a cold beer in the middle of my work day. I wonder how many other opportunities I have missed each day by not stopping to just look around and see? At least this one didn't slip by unnoticed.
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Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
There's No Crying in Hockey
The omens were bad before the puck ever dropped last night in Anaheim.
For starters, I mistakenly gave away my only pair of seats for the Ducks v Canucks game (I usually have 2 pairs-- I will blame this on a Blonde Moment). In an effort to save face, I purchased another pair before my buddy arrived but could not get seats in my normal section. Instead, we were about the only two Ducks fans in our new section, which wasn't hard to do in a stadium boasting a good 60-75% Vancouver fans... actual Vancouver fans, from Canada, as opposed to the typical bandwagon fans that come to town to watch a hot team. Gratefully, the majority of 'nucks around us were good natured and just being (loudly) supportive of their team. Only a few were complete tools- you could easily slip a Kings, Sharks, or Red Wings jersey on these particular ass clowns- but they were the minority, at least where I was sitting.
The next bad omen came when the starting lineup was being announced, and instead of acknowledging Dan Ellis in goal, we heard in disbelief the name of "Dan Sexton" ...Dan SEXTON... our speedy little forward, the one who gets shipped back and forth to Syracuse what seems like every other week. And there was no recovery from the announcer. No, "Haha, Just kidding! Of course Dan Sexton isn't in goal. It's DANNNNNN ELLLLLLLLIS!!!" THAT would have been a good do-over, but that didn't happen. And believe me when I tell you Dan Ellis would love to have a do-over last night, after letting in the first goal less than 20 seconds into the game. Of course, all the 'nuck-le heads in the building went nuts and began chanting, taunting our goalie and it really never let up.
Ducks could not catch a break, and even with a few insane Power Plays could not get a puck past Schneider (Vancouver backup goalie). So many close calls, so many times when it should have gone in. And though some will disagree with me, I don't think we played a bad game. Vancouver just did a better job overall of controlling the puck, lifting our sticks and protecting their goal. Still, I can only take small consolation in the fact that we ended our 3-game streak by being shut out 3-0 in our own home by the top team in the amazing Western Conference.
This was the first time I've ever left a game early. After the end of the second period, after we were now down 2 goals (the second one an eerie repeat of the first one, scored seconds after the start of the period) I found myself so mad that I was actually starting to cry. I am ashamed to admit that I had to hide out in the women's restroom to try and regain my composure. I couldn't. Every time I would try to step back out with my head up, the tears would start to flow again. It was awful! And in my humiliation, I texted my buddy that I was not going to pull it together. I was going home to sulk.
Oh, my Ducks, it's come to this. Clearly, I love you with the passion that I would put into any relationship. And girlie-girl that I am, yes, sometimes I am just a little too emotional to handle disappointment gracefully. Not to worry, I won't ever give up on you. I am loyal. But if it comes down to me losing it like that, I will quietly excuse myself rather than embarass you with my girlie tears. GO DUCKS!!!
For starters, I mistakenly gave away my only pair of seats for the Ducks v Canucks game (I usually have 2 pairs-- I will blame this on a Blonde Moment). In an effort to save face, I purchased another pair before my buddy arrived but could not get seats in my normal section. Instead, we were about the only two Ducks fans in our new section, which wasn't hard to do in a stadium boasting a good 60-75% Vancouver fans... actual Vancouver fans, from Canada, as opposed to the typical bandwagon fans that come to town to watch a hot team. Gratefully, the majority of 'nucks around us were good natured and just being (loudly) supportive of their team. Only a few were complete tools- you could easily slip a Kings, Sharks, or Red Wings jersey on these particular ass clowns- but they were the minority, at least where I was sitting.
The next bad omen came when the starting lineup was being announced, and instead of acknowledging Dan Ellis in goal, we heard in disbelief the name of "Dan Sexton" ...Dan SEXTON... our speedy little forward, the one who gets shipped back and forth to Syracuse what seems like every other week. And there was no recovery from the announcer. No, "Haha, Just kidding! Of course Dan Sexton isn't in goal. It's DANNNNNN ELLLLLLLLIS!!!" THAT would have been a good do-over, but that didn't happen. And believe me when I tell you Dan Ellis would love to have a do-over last night, after letting in the first goal less than 20 seconds into the game. Of course, all the 'nuck-le heads in the building went nuts and began chanting, taunting our goalie and it really never let up.
Ducks could not catch a break, and even with a few insane Power Plays could not get a puck past Schneider (Vancouver backup goalie). So many close calls, so many times when it should have gone in. And though some will disagree with me, I don't think we played a bad game. Vancouver just did a better job overall of controlling the puck, lifting our sticks and protecting their goal. Still, I can only take small consolation in the fact that we ended our 3-game streak by being shut out 3-0 in our own home by the top team in the amazing Western Conference.
This was the first time I've ever left a game early. After the end of the second period, after we were now down 2 goals (the second one an eerie repeat of the first one, scored seconds after the start of the period) I found myself so mad that I was actually starting to cry. I am ashamed to admit that I had to hide out in the women's restroom to try and regain my composure. I couldn't. Every time I would try to step back out with my head up, the tears would start to flow again. It was awful! And in my humiliation, I texted my buddy that I was not going to pull it together. I was going home to sulk.
Oh, my Ducks, it's come to this. Clearly, I love you with the passion that I would put into any relationship. And girlie-girl that I am, yes, sometimes I am just a little too emotional to handle disappointment gracefully. Not to worry, I won't ever give up on you. I am loyal. But if it comes down to me losing it like that, I will quietly excuse myself rather than embarass you with my girlie tears. GO DUCKS!!!
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Exhausted!
Ever notice how physically and emotionally draining it is to avoid someone whom you just don't want to deal with? Of course I will always stand up to a bully and I have no fear of getting ugly with anyone who pushes the wrong buttons, but when it's just some nice guy who is trying to push the friend envelope into dating territory, it messes me up. I'm just too nice. I am afraid to speak up and say simply, "Thanks, but no thanks." It feels so cold, so harsh, to have to redirect advances and weird-out what was a perfectly comfortable friendship. It actually makes me a little bit angry (ok a lot) because it puts me in the role of being The Bitch, and I am not a bitch. Like, at all.
What's perhaps worse is that I am seeing a bit of a trend, a strange parallel universe of avoidance that has suddenly sprung up over the last month like so many spring flowers. Here are the current contenders for Most Angst Inducing People: Mr. Wants-to-Date-Me Guy; Miss On-Again/Off-Again Trainwreck Friend; and finally, Mr. You're Not My Boss, Man.
Aside from the fact that I have no exploitable talent, protecting my personal space from unwanted attention is probably the real reason why I could never handle being a celebrity of any kind. I always wanted to be famous, but the truth of the matter is that world of stalkers and creepy crushes would eat me alive!
So here I am, avoiding phone calls and not returning voicemail. Shooting out a text to stall for time. Seriously considering skipping church just so I don't have to run into "him" and have that super-awkward conversation. Good job. Ugh! I know that the right thing to do is just suck it up and deal with each of these people one on one, try to be as gracious and honest as possible with each situation, and move on. I know it won't be easy, and just thinking about it wrecks me... so wish me luck. Prayers gratefully accepted.
What's perhaps worse is that I am seeing a bit of a trend, a strange parallel universe of avoidance that has suddenly sprung up over the last month like so many spring flowers. Here are the current contenders for Most Angst Inducing People: Mr. Wants-to-Date-Me Guy; Miss On-Again/Off-Again Trainwreck Friend; and finally, Mr. You're Not My Boss, Man.
Aside from the fact that I have no exploitable talent, protecting my personal space from unwanted attention is probably the real reason why I could never handle being a celebrity of any kind. I always wanted to be famous, but the truth of the matter is that world of stalkers and creepy crushes would eat me alive!
So here I am, avoiding phone calls and not returning voicemail. Shooting out a text to stall for time. Seriously considering skipping church just so I don't have to run into "him" and have that super-awkward conversation. Good job. Ugh! I know that the right thing to do is just suck it up and deal with each of these people one on one, try to be as gracious and honest as possible with each situation, and move on. I know it won't be easy, and just thinking about it wrecks me... so wish me luck. Prayers gratefully accepted.
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