A Gentleman's Sport Played By Hooligans...

You may not know this about me, but I used to be a really good soccer player.

I've never stopped playing. I don't actually know if that's true, but I'm pretty sure that it is. I've been playing in the women's adult league here in Asheville for around 5 years I think and finally got up the gumption to attempt the co-ed league.

I've always struggled with co-ed. I am so so happy I did both this year, though.

My women's team this year got new sponsorship at a bar right down the street from the fields and my apartment (bonus). We got this sponsorship because the owner of the bar, an old acquaintance from UNCA, is a soccer player herself and wanted to play. This was a step in a really right direction. Also, we picked up a bunch of really awesome girls this season who I hope stick around.

My captain, and one of the girls I have been playing with for several years, got me onto her co-ed team with three of the other girls from our team and then we added one of the new ones halfway through.

Anyway, this season has been phenomenal. I have a new group of friends who I love. I feel like I should have been friends with them forever. My good friend Brittnye likes to take pictures, so she's taken some at a couple games. This is probably the first picture of me in a soccer uniform since 2001, and the first of me playing soccer since 2004 or so.

Just a Couple Things...

Nothing really major has happened in the last...two weeks I think it's been...? So here's a bunch of small things that have happened...

1. I tricked Jack into thinking he was on his leash and tied up when he wasn't. My friend Adam has a sweet house a few hours from Asheville where he goes to school, but the backyard isn't fenced. There are two dogs that live at the house currently and one that hangs around a lot. None of them run off when they are off leash. Jack, on the other hand, runs off any time he's off the leash. It's ridiculous really because he is so needy and follows me around in the house; it's like he momentarily forgets that he likes me as much as he does. Anyway, last weekend I put Jack's leash on him and let him drag it around. He didn't even attempt to run off; in fact he didn't get more than about 20 feet away from me. We'll call that a win for me.

2. I helped Adam bottle some IPA while I was there. It was fun (and yummy!).

3. We had Saturday school this weekend. School six days a week is not fun.

4. I tried Thai food and liked it, though I stayed away from the spicy. :)

5. I did nothing for St. Patrick's day.

6. It was warm enough to play cornhole last weekend and warm enough one day this week to put on a swim suit and lay out.

That's about it. Things have been pretty uneventful. That is about to change. "Spring Break" (really just a four day weekend) starts Friday and I am hitting the beach.

The Department of Homeland Security Came to My House

My phone rang on Monday morning, and, as it was a number I did not recognize, I let it go to voicemail. I checked the voicemail later that afternoon when my student teacher was teaching. Here's a transcript of that voicemail with my own thoughts included in italics:

"Hi (he mispronounced my name horribly, but in a recognizable manner), this is so and so. I work for the Department of Homeland Security. WHAT? OHMYGOD What did I do? OH MY GOD HOLY CRAP I'm in trouble. We need to come in to interview you. We are doing a background check on someone you probably know. WHAT? No I don't know anyone Homeland Security would be checking up on! No. Big mistake. Oh my god. It says here you've known this person since 1997. WHAT? No! No one I have known that long needs to be dealing with Homeland Security. Oh my god. Her name is ** and I don't know how to pronounce this last name but it looks like Lacks uh goo. (At this point I did actually laugh out loud, because I know how much Liz loves her last name being butchered.) Oh Bartholomew was applying for that government position a couple of months ago and told me she would need verification of living situations. Duh. Wow, Lou. Nice freakout. If you could just give me a call back at your earliest convenience, my number is...


Anyway, I hang up and call the guy back; we talk briefly about how I know Bartholomew and set up an interview for the next morning. Cue snow. In fact, we haven't had school since Monday. He called me back this morning and just came by the house to conduct his interview.

I was asked to verify a bunch of things I didn't quite remember, like Bartholomew working in the Asheville Mall and living in a house on Edgewood. I didn't remember her working in the mall at all until the guy said it was at The Children's Place and I vaguely recalled that. When he said "Edgewood," I said "The apartments near campus?" He said no and described it as a house that had been split into apartments and that triggered a memory and I said this, appropriateness apparently no matter to me:

"Oh I remember that, but not because I ever visited her there. She told me once she was living in a house with a professor from UNCA" Yes, he says and starts flipping through his notes to find his name. "His name was Seamus McNerney. Seamus Patrick McNerney, born on St. Patrick's Day actually." Sounds like a good Irishman. Was he a good professor? I pause because McNerney was one of my favorite professors, but not for very good reasons. Like any good Irishman, he drank whiskey out of his coffee mug during every class. He also gave me an A when I did not deserve it. I go with "Yeah I really liked him." Is he still at UNCA? I pause again because I'm not sure if looking up McNerney to ask about Bartholomew is a good idea. I went with complete honesty: "Actually, I have no idea (I don't.) But I heard he was really sick a few years ago (I did, from Liz. Apparently, the alcohol was slowly killing him)." I guess this was good enough information since someone else, possibly Liz, had mentioned McNerney and me remembering that he was there in that house without him prompting probably verifies that she did in fact live there, which I think was the whole point.

He never asked me about when we actually lived together except to ask if there were any drug, alcohol, or financial problems. I laughed. Probably also not appropriate. Liz did not enjoy my drinking habits at all when we lived together. She got over it eventually, but I was definitely the "bad" roommate.

Everything else was stuff basically along the lines of "Do you think that this person will betray her country?" It actually felt a little contrived, but that's probably because I don't really think about things like betraying your country. I guess I've never dealt with the government or anyone from the government that closely so it was kind of intimidating. He even showed me his badge when he came in.

One thing that did bother me a little is that he asked about foreign travel, and how much she had done and where. It seemed to be a matter of interest in "foreign governments." Scary. If I ever apply for a government position, they will probably not accept me solely based on the fact that I've been to France on four separate occasions, that my sister lived there, that I studied in England, have taken students to Germany, Italy, and Switzerland, backpacked in Costa Rica, that I have an uncle in Holland, that I'm taking more students to England, Wales, and Ireland, that I have plans to go to as many places as possible in my lifetime, especially on summers when there is a World Cup, and that my family is from California, because, let's admit it, California is kind of like a foreign country (all those damned hippies and Mexicans.) My sole saving grace would be that my grandfather was in the Air Force (Go America!) and that he instilled in me a love of seeing foreign places and cultures at a young age, I just never had the desire to fight for my country to do it.

The worst part was him actually coming to the house. I had to run around the house hiding all my questionable literary material and marijuana.

KIDDING!

Lost

This is how I feel right now.

Hahah okay that's a big lie. I feel fantastic right now. The beginning of the year has actually been pretty good.

The reason I titled this blog "Lost" is that I've been spending every spare moment re-watching the greatest show ever on television. The final season of Lost begins on February 2, and I am smack in the middle of my quest to watch seasons 1-5 before that happens.

Don't judge me. I've spent a vast portion of my life reading books and exercising my brain in other ways.

The bottom line is that Lost is pure genius and that it does in fact exercise my brain just fine. There's no real easy way to explain Lost. Essentially, a plane crashes on an island in what should be the South Pacific and the island turns out to be really weird and have all sorts of strange phenomenon. The people are interested only in getting off the island, but over the course of the 108 days they spend on it (more in some cases, less in others), they become real people to each other and the story evolves into what is surely one of the writers' or the creator's philosophy on what it is to be human. The mystery of the science, phenomena, and technology of the island drives the story, as we as watchers can't help but wonder what the heck is going to happen. While the "what" is interesting, in the end what we really want to know is "why" these things have happened, and that's where the meaning of humanity comes in. What have these characters, these people, done to cause this insanity? And more importantly, what can they do to fix it?

So anyhow, I'm about 1/3 of the way through season 3. I think I can do it. Luckily, I haven't had a lot to do this month. That will be explained in what will probably be my next blog, sometime after January is over.

P.S. I got a sweet new camera. Here's the first picture with it. This is my friend Brandi's little boy Collin. He's 16 months old and he loves me. :)



Also, I apologize, but I cannot figure out how to make pictures that you can click on to get full size. Daddy, will you please help me with this the next time I'm home?

A Snowfall Kind of Love

We are having a pretty intense winter storm on the East Coast right now. And by right now I mean that there is an inch or so of snow on the ground already from the 2 hours of snowfall we've already gotten, that we are now in a sort of holding pattern as there is no precipitation of any kind currently, and that the worst of it is supposed to be this afternoon and evening.

And by worst of it, I mean best of it. :D

School was cancelled this morning, which is both a blessing and a curse. I was at school last night til almost 9 working technology for senior project presentations so not having to teach today is nice. I also really hurt my finger by getting it caught in the railing on the stairs at school and pulling really far out of place. And my head hurts. Thus, blessing. But we will have to make this day up, which means they will probably take a teacher work day away from us in February or March, when we have very few days off and the months just longer and longer.

OMG I just realized that since school was cancelled today, it is now officially the start of Winter Break!!!! YESSSSS! You know, if I were still in college I would probably already be a little drunk and I would definitely be out sledding on stolen cafeteria trays.

There are pictures in one of my many photo albums that would prove this, but they are not digital. Instead, here are some pictures of the last time I got to play in the snow, which was in the Alps in Lucerne, Switzerland.

Yeah. It was a bit more awesome than our current storm will be.

Also, it is currently starting to snow again.