Does Ryan have some competition? Don't be jealous ladies!Monday, July 30, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Home Sweet (Tea) Home!!!!!
So I've definitely gotten a lot of flack being from Alabama. Everytime I have been to Chicago with Ryan to visit his family, someone that I have never met before always makes some remark along the lines of "I mean, it's not like we're in Alabama." I just clench my jaw, and give them my best grin while I slowly nod my head. I cant help but laugh a little. What can I do? I mean besides kick them in the shin (because I am really mature for my age.)
Example: Last Christmas Ryan took me up to Chicago and we went to his brother's-in-law parents' house for a Christmas gathering. One of the guests there was talking to Ryan about another person he worked with and how he looked like a redneck with his dirty jeans and cut off sleeved t-shirt and even talked like a redneck with a deep accent. The guy went on saying his co-worker was from southern Illinois. I could feel it coming and I braced for it. "I mean, it's like he's from Alabama!!!"
Hmmmmmmm. I just bit my bottom lip and nodded. Ryan looked at him for a second then said, "Hey man. She's from Alabama." He looked at Ryan and started to laugh like it was a joke. Then noticed that we were not laughing. He looked at Ryan (cuz I think he was scared to look at me) and asked, "Really?! Well don't I feel like an a**hole." I laughed. Another time, Ryan's brother-in-law was talking about how his 3 year old boy told him that he (the 3 yr old) was in love with his 12 year old cousin and they were gonna get married. Ryan's brother-in-law told him, "You can't son. That is only legal in Alabama." Again, Ryan intervened and said, "Good job. Casey is from Alabama." His brother-in-law looked at me and then Ryan, then back at me. "Oh. Sorry," he said. "It's okay," I offered. "I was only married to my first cousin for a short while anyway." I'm pretty sure he thought I was serious.
Well, this past week I went back home. It's been over a year since I had been back home and I was pretty excited. I saw a lot of friends and a lot of family too. The one thing I definitely missed was the sweet tea. Yankees just dont get it. Their "sweet tea" is make with things like Splenda or Equal!!! SACRELIDGE!!! It's gotta be thick, syrupy, 3 cups of SUGAR, sweet tea!!! You should almost go into diabetic coma after you drink it!!!
I definitely learned some things about my family and friends that I probably took for granted or didnt notice until now. I guess absence makes the heart grow fonder...and the quirks more easily picked out. Really?! I am related to some of these people?! More about my experiences later.
Stay tuned.
Example: Last Christmas Ryan took me up to Chicago and we went to his brother's-in-law parents' house for a Christmas gathering. One of the guests there was talking to Ryan about another person he worked with and how he looked like a redneck with his dirty jeans and cut off sleeved t-shirt and even talked like a redneck with a deep accent. The guy went on saying his co-worker was from southern Illinois. I could feel it coming and I braced for it. "I mean, it's like he's from Alabama!!!"
Hmmmmmmm. I just bit my bottom lip and nodded. Ryan looked at him for a second then said, "Hey man. She's from Alabama." He looked at Ryan and started to laugh like it was a joke. Then noticed that we were not laughing. He looked at Ryan (cuz I think he was scared to look at me) and asked, "Really?! Well don't I feel like an a**hole." I laughed. Another time, Ryan's brother-in-law was talking about how his 3 year old boy told him that he (the 3 yr old) was in love with his 12 year old cousin and they were gonna get married. Ryan's brother-in-law told him, "You can't son. That is only legal in Alabama." Again, Ryan intervened and said, "Good job. Casey is from Alabama." His brother-in-law looked at me and then Ryan, then back at me. "Oh. Sorry," he said. "It's okay," I offered. "I was only married to my first cousin for a short while anyway." I'm pretty sure he thought I was serious.
Well, this past week I went back home. It's been over a year since I had been back home and I was pretty excited. I saw a lot of friends and a lot of family too. The one thing I definitely missed was the sweet tea. Yankees just dont get it. Their "sweet tea" is make with things like Splenda or Equal!!! SACRELIDGE!!! It's gotta be thick, syrupy, 3 cups of SUGAR, sweet tea!!! You should almost go into diabetic coma after you drink it!!!
I definitely learned some things about my family and friends that I probably took for granted or didnt notice until now. I guess absence makes the heart grow fonder...and the quirks more easily picked out. Really?! I am related to some of these people?! More about my experiences later.
Stay tuned.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Thursday, July 12, 2007
My first REAL MLB experience
A few weeks ago Ryan took me to Chicago for a baseball game. This was no ordinary baseball game. This game had meaning and was vital to the survival to either half of the city of Chicago (North or South). The White Sox were playing the Cubs at U.S. Cellular Field (the White Sox's home field).
Being from the South, baseball is not a huge ordeal to me. Football is king. More specifically, college football is king. So I had no real expectations of the day because quite frankly, I didn't give a crap about who was playing whom!! Baseball to me represents my dad watching a game on t.v. and falling asleep by the third inning. Usually then I would have to pull a mission impossible in trying to pry the remote control from his sleeping grip without waking him so I could watch what I wanted. This would only work about 30% of the time. Usually he would wake up mid-mission. "What are you doing?" he would ask me hovering over him. "Uhhhhhh..." was usually my response.
Believe it or not I have been to a major league baseball game. A few actually. When I was 11, my family was up in New England visiting my grandad and my dad's brothers and sister. One day we went to Fenway and watched a game. I remember watching it but only in small increments between bathroom visits, a couple trips to the souvenir stand, nachos, hot dogs, a coke or two, and the inevitable ice cream in a helmet!!! Priorities are priorities. Recently I have been to a Braves game, Angels game, and a Cubs game (Ryan didnt talk to me for a while after that). But that's it. Four games in my whole life. I think those games collectively I watched a full 4 innings of play (for the aforementioned reasons). Baseball doesnt really hold my attention.
So I planned on more of the same for this game. "Maybe I'll get a cool t-shirt," I thought to myself. Ryan in the meantime was bursting with excitement. I mean he had the countdown and everything! In the two weeks leading up to the game he would break any silences we had with "Cubs-White Sox, honey!!! Cubs-White Sox!!!" GREEAAAATT. "I hope they have ice cream in those miniture helmets!" I would retort. Again...priorities.
The day of the game we drove up from Indianapolis and made our way through Chicago's Dan-Ryan labyrinth of traffic with little to no major delays. As we off the exit I realized this was something a little bigger than what I expected. Cops were at every intersection directing traffic. Scores of people were walking with families and friends in the same direction! But what really set it off for me was seeing the token painted up guy with "Go Sox" on his chest.
"But...but...this is baseball?!" I thought.
We pulled into a parking lot next to the stadium and it was practically full. We got one of the last four parking spots in that lot and we still had 2 hours before the game started!!!! People were tailgating with giant grills, lots of coolers, beer, dogs, brauts, and all kinds of sides! This was serious tailgating!! Corn hole games were set up all over and every few feet you could hear trash talking between a couple drunk fans!!!! Tears began to well up in my eyes and I broke out into a huge grin!!! Floods of memories from my days at Auburn and Georgia came back and I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt like I had finally come home!!!
Ryan and I started running around like school kids. I started looking for t-shirts at the stands set up outside of the stadium and we stopped to listen and dance like idiots infront of the stages set up outside with live music playing. Ryan took me to the spot where Comiskey field stood until 1990 when it was torn down. It's located in on of the parking lots adjacent to the new field. Thousands of cars where piled in this area except for one spot. Home plate. There is a marker there with batter's box and the two foul lines spreading out to mark where this historic field stood for so long.
In reference to my hometown of Birmingham, AL. When this field was torn down, Rickwood Field in Birmingham became the oldest stadium in the country where professional baseball was played.
Here we are on the site of Comiskey Park. It was pretty cool to think we were standing where so much sport history occured.
When we got into the stadium, we trekked up to level 500 (yep, the nosebleeds), but they were actually really good seats. You could look down and see...everything. You could make out Ozzie Guillen in the dugout and see clear into the bull pens at the back of the field. The feeling of the game was so cool that I didnt mind the fact that I needed an oxygen mask and could wave to people in airplanes as they passed by me. The section we were in was a healthy mix of Sox and Cubs fans. When we sat down it was like a referee saying, "Let the trash talk begin!!" It didnt end until we left the ballpark. It was all in good fun.
It was a pretty exciting game for a while. For those of you like me and dont follow baseball, let me fill you in on one fact: both teams suck this year. The White Sox especially. They got swept on their field (a first in their rivalry history) that weekend. The Cubs have a long history of disappointment but actually have come back and are now holding at .500(ish) which is pretty good (I mean bad...for the White Sox). At one point in the game the Sox were down by 2 runs and the Cubs were at bat when one of the batters hit the ball to left field while two runners were on 1st and 2nd base. Well, not to draw it out there was a pickle on both players (Both players at one point got caught between two Sox players as they tossed the ball back and forth to each other to get the runner out)!!! Believe it or not. But the umpire called obstruction on the Sox short stop and allowed a run in to score because of it. Well, Ozzie Guillen comes out of the dugout and is talking to the umps and I guess he said something he shouldnt of cuz after about 5 minutes he got tossed out of the game. So, he walks calmly off the field and the Sox fans are good and angry at this point.
By the end of the seventh inning I had a count of 6 Sox fans getting escorted from the ball park because they were really getting pissed off and the Cubs fans were talking some serious trash. I was really enjoying myself!! However, I also realized that on top of that I had been watching the whole game!! I wasnt just watching it...I was in to it. What?! I'm from the South! What's baseball?! There is no other rivalry that can matcht the awesome power of Auburn and Alabama!!!!!! All of this is running through my head and that is when I lost control and shouted (yes...shouted) "WAR EAGLE!" Everyone atleast 6 six rows in front and behind me stopped and stared at me. Ryan stopped eating his hot dog in mid bite. I think my face hit a new shade of red that day.
Besides that little episode of pure humiliation I had a blast. Its nice to know there is something in the Midwest that can capture so much energy like that rivalry game. I think I'm gonna like it here after all!
Being from the South, baseball is not a huge ordeal to me. Football is king. More specifically, college football is king. So I had no real expectations of the day because quite frankly, I didn't give a crap about who was playing whom!! Baseball to me represents my dad watching a game on t.v. and falling asleep by the third inning. Usually then I would have to pull a mission impossible in trying to pry the remote control from his sleeping grip without waking him so I could watch what I wanted. This would only work about 30% of the time. Usually he would wake up mid-mission. "What are you doing?" he would ask me hovering over him. "Uhhhhhh..." was usually my response.
Believe it or not I have been to a major league baseball game. A few actually. When I was 11, my family was up in New England visiting my grandad and my dad's brothers and sister. One day we went to Fenway and watched a game. I remember watching it but only in small increments between bathroom visits, a couple trips to the souvenir stand, nachos, hot dogs, a coke or two, and the inevitable ice cream in a helmet!!! Priorities are priorities. Recently I have been to a Braves game, Angels game, and a Cubs game (Ryan didnt talk to me for a while after that). But that's it. Four games in my whole life. I think those games collectively I watched a full 4 innings of play (for the aforementioned reasons). Baseball doesnt really hold my attention.
So I planned on more of the same for this game. "Maybe I'll get a cool t-shirt," I thought to myself. Ryan in the meantime was bursting with excitement. I mean he had the countdown and everything! In the two weeks leading up to the game he would break any silences we had with "Cubs-White Sox, honey!!! Cubs-White Sox!!!" GREEAAAATT. "I hope they have ice cream in those miniture helmets!" I would retort. Again...priorities.
The day of the game we drove up from Indianapolis and made our way through Chicago's Dan-Ryan labyrinth of traffic with little to no major delays. As we off the exit I realized this was something a little bigger than what I expected. Cops were at every intersection directing traffic. Scores of people were walking with families and friends in the same direction! But what really set it off for me was seeing the token painted up guy with "Go Sox" on his chest.
"But...but...this is baseball?!" I thought.
We pulled into a parking lot next to the stadium and it was practically full. We got one of the last four parking spots in that lot and we still had 2 hours before the game started!!!! People were tailgating with giant grills, lots of coolers, beer, dogs, brauts, and all kinds of sides! This was serious tailgating!! Corn hole games were set up all over and every few feet you could hear trash talking between a couple drunk fans!!!! Tears began to well up in my eyes and I broke out into a huge grin!!! Floods of memories from my days at Auburn and Georgia came back and I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt like I had finally come home!!!
Ryan and I started running around like school kids. I started looking for t-shirts at the stands set up outside of the stadium and we stopped to listen and dance like idiots infront of the stages set up outside with live music playing. Ryan took me to the spot where Comiskey field stood until 1990 when it was torn down. It's located in on of the parking lots adjacent to the new field. Thousands of cars where piled in this area except for one spot. Home plate. There is a marker there with batter's box and the two foul lines spreading out to mark where this historic field stood for so long.
In reference to my hometown of Birmingham, AL. When this field was torn down, Rickwood Field in Birmingham became the oldest stadium in the country where professional baseball was played.
Here we are on the site of Comiskey Park. It was pretty cool to think we were standing where so much sport history occured.
When we got into the stadium, we trekked up to level 500 (yep, the nosebleeds), but they were actually really good seats. You could look down and see...everything. You could make out Ozzie Guillen in the dugout and see clear into the bull pens at the back of the field. The feeling of the game was so cool that I didnt mind the fact that I needed an oxygen mask and could wave to people in airplanes as they passed by me. The section we were in was a healthy mix of Sox and Cubs fans. When we sat down it was like a referee saying, "Let the trash talk begin!!" It didnt end until we left the ballpark. It was all in good fun.
It was a pretty exciting game for a while. For those of you like me and dont follow baseball, let me fill you in on one fact: both teams suck this year. The White Sox especially. They got swept on their field (a first in their rivalry history) that weekend. The Cubs have a long history of disappointment but actually have come back and are now holding at .500(ish) which is pretty good (I mean bad...for the White Sox). At one point in the game the Sox were down by 2 runs and the Cubs were at bat when one of the batters hit the ball to left field while two runners were on 1st and 2nd base. Well, not to draw it out there was a pickle on both players (Both players at one point got caught between two Sox players as they tossed the ball back and forth to each other to get the runner out)!!! Believe it or not. But the umpire called obstruction on the Sox short stop and allowed a run in to score because of it. Well, Ozzie Guillen comes out of the dugout and is talking to the umps and I guess he said something he shouldnt of cuz after about 5 minutes he got tossed out of the game. So, he walks calmly off the field and the Sox fans are good and angry at this point.
By the end of the seventh inning I had a count of 6 Sox fans getting escorted from the ball park because they were really getting pissed off and the Cubs fans were talking some serious trash. I was really enjoying myself!! However, I also realized that on top of that I had been watching the whole game!! I wasnt just watching it...I was in to it. What?! I'm from the South! What's baseball?! There is no other rivalry that can matcht the awesome power of Auburn and Alabama!!!!!! All of this is running through my head and that is when I lost control and shouted (yes...shouted) "WAR EAGLE!" Everyone atleast 6 six rows in front and behind me stopped and stared at me. Ryan stopped eating his hot dog in mid bite. I think my face hit a new shade of red that day.
Besides that little episode of pure humiliation I had a blast. Its nice to know there is something in the Midwest that can capture so much energy like that rivalry game. I think I'm gonna like it here after all!
Friday, July 6, 2007
Indianians...or are they just Indians?
Culture shock. I didnt think that culture shock would apply to me when I moved up here to Indiana two years ago. Well, it happened. I can't really explain how, but it did hit me that things were different. It's subtle but when the realization hits you, it can feel huge.
First of all, southern hospitality is way different than midwest hospitality. Being from the South, you grow up with a soft and "overly polite and patient" sense when meeting new people or talking with people, and having guests in your home. In the midwest (dependent upon region) that politeness only goes so far. By no means would anyone in the true midwest be outright rude to you, no way, but you do have a time limit in patience and cordiality with people. I consider it this way:
In the South, even if people do not like you, polite conversation and feigning interest is always applied. No way will someone walk away from you in mid sentence. You can finish your conversation and a polite comment/excuse is made and then you can make your get-away. But you always wait until the conversation is over, no matter how freakin' long it takes. In the Mid-West, this polite comment/excuse is usually made about half way through the person's comment or conversation because there is no way they can stand it any longer. But if they like you, their hospitality has no limits.
Second, the people in the Mid-West are a lot like Southerners (again, dependent on region) but with "snow experience." I dont mean snow like in Alabama where it's and 1/8 of an inch once every 4 years...I mean some serious snow. My first winter was considered a "mild" winter. At one point in November, when I had only been here for a month, it snowed about 2 feet in one day. It started in the afternoon when I was a work. I work in an arena and we have no windows, so I didnt see it begin. Students were coming in and telling me about it and I started to sweat. "What do I do?" I asked with wide eyes. I got a lot of laughs with that. Hey, I had never driven in snow before. 1/8 of an inch shut down cities for 3 days usually in Alabama!!!! How was I to survive 2 feet?! I wasn't gonna make it!!!!! Tell my family I loved them but I'm doomed!!!!!
Before I really started to silently freak out, one of my students asked what kind of car I drove. When I told her she laughed even harder at me. "You are gonna be fine. You drive an all-wheel vehicle. Just take it slow."
Take it slow...I can do that. Of course I live about 3 miles down on the same street from where I work. Usually it takes me no more than 5 minutes to drive to work (dependent on the one traffic light I have inbetween). That night, it took me 20 minutes to get home...I'm not kidding. I took it REAL slow, and made a lot of people REALLY angry.
A similarity that midwesterners have with southerners is that they don't do change very well...just like southerners (case in point, read any school U.S. history book). The year I moved to Indiana was the year the state finally decided to observe what is apparently a horrific offense to all decent people in the world...day-light savings time. Indiana used to spend half the year in the Eastern Time Zone, and the other half in the Central Time Zone because they never changed their clocks. Well, now the state was gonna stick with the Eastern Time Zone...forever. When the time came to change the clocks, people started to panic. "Do I move it up or back?" one student asked me. "So...I do what, when?" another asked. "Do we stay up to change it at 2:00am on the dot or can we do it before that?" Really? Now it was my turn to laugh. So I told them what they told me, "It's not a big deal...just drive slow (ha ha)."
Well, the obvious indecency of such an outright unfair act was so great that two counties decided not to partake in this outlandish event. So, they are stuck in transition of half the year in Eastern and half the year in Central Time Zone. Another county even has gone so far as to only not change their clocks in federal buildings...but everywhere else will change there clocks. So, the post office will be closed at 5:00pm, but its 4:00pm on your clock at home. These people are weird.
"The Region." People from "the region" are also called "region rats." This "region" is the upper west corner of Indiana. My first experience with someone from the region was a student I met my first day here. I was making polite conversation and asked him where he was from. "Chicago" he said.
"Oh! Okay," I replied.
Another student heard this and came up to me later and said, "He's not really from Chicago."
"What?" I asked. "Then why did he say that?"
"He's from 'the region.'" she stated. "He lives in the upper west corner of Indiana but a lot of people say they are from 'Chicago.'"
"Why?"
"I dunno." she said. "I'm from St. Louis."
"Oh," I said.
People from the region can be very easily picked out. All you have to do is talk to them. They come from Indiana but can have the personality of someone from Chicago (refer to description of Butler boy). They can be brash, but with politeness instilled by osmosis from the state Indiana. They are very interesting. My first student here was from "the region." She was a great person and we had a lot of fun. I would chuckle every once in a while because she had a very distinct, very thick Chicago accent (watch The Blues Brothers and you will understand). But she never lived a day in her life within the state of Illinois. Weird, huh? To demonstrate, say the word "mom." Now pinch your nostrils together and say it more like "ma'am," but not all the way like it. That is probably the closest you can get to this accent.
On the opposite side of "region rats" you have the farm kids. They make me miss home very much. It's almost like they have been plucked from my backyard and came up here with me. They are usually very hard workers and some of the most easy going kids I've met here. Overall, I love Indiana. I really enjoy living here with all of its quirks and new people and new experiences. I wouldn't trade it or change a thing about it.
First of all, southern hospitality is way different than midwest hospitality. Being from the South, you grow up with a soft and "overly polite and patient" sense when meeting new people or talking with people, and having guests in your home. In the midwest (dependent upon region) that politeness only goes so far. By no means would anyone in the true midwest be outright rude to you, no way, but you do have a time limit in patience and cordiality with people. I consider it this way:
In the South, even if people do not like you, polite conversation and feigning interest is always applied. No way will someone walk away from you in mid sentence. You can finish your conversation and a polite comment/excuse is made and then you can make your get-away. But you always wait until the conversation is over, no matter how freakin' long it takes. In the Mid-West, this polite comment/excuse is usually made about half way through the person's comment or conversation because there is no way they can stand it any longer. But if they like you, their hospitality has no limits.
Second, the people in the Mid-West are a lot like Southerners (again, dependent on region) but with "snow experience." I dont mean snow like in Alabama where it's and 1/8 of an inch once every 4 years...I mean some serious snow. My first winter was considered a "mild" winter. At one point in November, when I had only been here for a month, it snowed about 2 feet in one day. It started in the afternoon when I was a work. I work in an arena and we have no windows, so I didnt see it begin. Students were coming in and telling me about it and I started to sweat. "What do I do?" I asked with wide eyes. I got a lot of laughs with that. Hey, I had never driven in snow before. 1/8 of an inch shut down cities for 3 days usually in Alabama!!!! How was I to survive 2 feet?! I wasn't gonna make it!!!!! Tell my family I loved them but I'm doomed!!!!!
Before I really started to silently freak out, one of my students asked what kind of car I drove. When I told her she laughed even harder at me. "You are gonna be fine. You drive an all-wheel vehicle. Just take it slow."
Take it slow...I can do that. Of course I live about 3 miles down on the same street from where I work. Usually it takes me no more than 5 minutes to drive to work (dependent on the one traffic light I have inbetween). That night, it took me 20 minutes to get home...I'm not kidding. I took it REAL slow, and made a lot of people REALLY angry.
A similarity that midwesterners have with southerners is that they don't do change very well...just like southerners (case in point, read any school U.S. history book). The year I moved to Indiana was the year the state finally decided to observe what is apparently a horrific offense to all decent people in the world...day-light savings time. Indiana used to spend half the year in the Eastern Time Zone, and the other half in the Central Time Zone because they never changed their clocks. Well, now the state was gonna stick with the Eastern Time Zone...forever. When the time came to change the clocks, people started to panic. "Do I move it up or back?" one student asked me. "So...I do what, when?" another asked. "Do we stay up to change it at 2:00am on the dot or can we do it before that?" Really? Now it was my turn to laugh. So I told them what they told me, "It's not a big deal...just drive slow (ha ha)."
Well, the obvious indecency of such an outright unfair act was so great that two counties decided not to partake in this outlandish event. So, they are stuck in transition of half the year in Eastern and half the year in Central Time Zone. Another county even has gone so far as to only not change their clocks in federal buildings...but everywhere else will change there clocks. So, the post office will be closed at 5:00pm, but its 4:00pm on your clock at home. These people are weird.
"The Region." People from "the region" are also called "region rats." This "region" is the upper west corner of Indiana. My first experience with someone from the region was a student I met my first day here. I was making polite conversation and asked him where he was from. "Chicago" he said.
"Oh! Okay," I replied.
Another student heard this and came up to me later and said, "He's not really from Chicago."
"What?" I asked. "Then why did he say that?"
"He's from 'the region.'" she stated. "He lives in the upper west corner of Indiana but a lot of people say they are from 'Chicago.'"
"Why?"
"I dunno." she said. "I'm from St. Louis."
"Oh," I said.
People from the region can be very easily picked out. All you have to do is talk to them. They come from Indiana but can have the personality of someone from Chicago (refer to description of Butler boy). They can be brash, but with politeness instilled by osmosis from the state Indiana. They are very interesting. My first student here was from "the region." She was a great person and we had a lot of fun. I would chuckle every once in a while because she had a very distinct, very thick Chicago accent (watch The Blues Brothers and you will understand). But she never lived a day in her life within the state of Illinois. Weird, huh? To demonstrate, say the word "mom." Now pinch your nostrils together and say it more like "ma'am," but not all the way like it. That is probably the closest you can get to this accent.
On the opposite side of "region rats" you have the farm kids. They make me miss home very much. It's almost like they have been plucked from my backyard and came up here with me. They are usually very hard workers and some of the most easy going kids I've met here. Overall, I love Indiana. I really enjoy living here with all of its quirks and new people and new experiences. I wouldn't trade it or change a thing about it.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Butler boy
Okay, since most of you know anyway, I guess I should tell you the skinny on the boy-toy (aka: Butler boy). His name is Ryan and he is an athletic trainer at a different school about an hour away in Indianapolis. He just had a birthday June 30th and now is 30 years old. He's taking this well. He screamed and kicked and thrashed around on the floor for about 45 minutes and then pouted for another 2 hours. I told him not to worry cuz being a man he is mentally the equivalent of a 22 year old. He perked up after that.
Exactly how long we've been together is kind of a gray area. We met over a year ago at a basketball tournament. We were both covering women's basketball and our teams were at the same tournament(December '05). We met briefly (our teams were not playing each other) and the conversation went something like this:
Ryan: "Hey."
Me: "Hey."
Ryan: "I'm Ryan."
Me: "Casey. Nice to meet you."
Ryan: "You too. Doing all right this year?" (this is athletic trainer lingo
in regards to the team's overall health status)
Me: "Yeah. Not bad. You?"
Ryan: "Hangin' in."
Seriously. That was about it. It took all of 2 seconds. Not exactly the mind blowing, earth shattering conversation you would expect. Well, low and behold the next week we were scheduled to play his team at their school. We arrived before the game and he came up to me and here is conversation number 2:
Ryan: "Hey. Is it Stacey?"
Me: (with a slight glare) "Casey."
Ryan: "Right. Sorry. I'm terrible with names." (Yeah right)
Me: "It's okay. I dont remember your's at all." (I knew his name)
Ryan: "Oh. Ryan. Do you need anything before the game?" (this is more
trainer lingo for anything to help get the team ready)
Me: "Nope we're good. Thanks."
Pretty impressive, huh? So collectively we talked for about 5 and a half seconds. After the game (we won), I told him thanks for everything and got on the bus to go home. The following Monday I come in to work and check my email. Low and behold I get an email from Ryan. Very confused I open it and here's what it said (paraphrasing):
"Hi. It's Ryan, the athletic trainer from Butler. This may seem strange but I
was wondering if you would like to go out sometime? Maybe I can get your
number and give you a call?"
WHAT?!?!?!!?! Because I share my office with 6 graduate student assistant athletic trainers, I immediately show them all this email. I am so embarrassed, yet kind of intrigued. What do I do? I dont know this guy. He could be a freak!!!! So I did what I do best. I waited...for about four days. I rationalized as best as I could and bounced back and forth. Email him. Don't email him. Email him. Dont email him. Finally, my friend Brittany put it to me straight. She said, "Dude. Freakin' email him back. Take a chance. At the very least you get a free dinner."
"Well put," I thought. So I did. After two more days. He was surprised that I did eventually email him and again asked for my number. For some strange reason I gave it to him. We went out on a date after the Christmas holidays and began the casual dating thing. Well, we started to seriously date around March and then became exclusive that June.
Ryan is from "Chicago." Actually he is from a town called Algonquin about 30 minutes north of Chicago (This is something I will rant about at a later date). He has one little sister who is married and expecting her third child within the month. She will then have three boys. His mom and dad still live in the area where he grew up, near his sister.
Overall, Ryan is your typical yankee. He can be abrasive when he wants to be (never to me) and has no problem saying exactly what is on his mind (to anyone who will listen). He is a complete goof ball and we can be as weird or as serious as we want at anytime. He's a really good person and I love being around him. I always say it is important to have someone around you who truly makes you laugh from your gut. I am lucky to have at least two people like that: Ryan and Sara (my best friend from grad school).
So now you know. And knowing is half the battle (I had to throw in a GI Joe reference).
Monday, July 2, 2007
What am I doing?
If you had asked me about a year and a half ago to look at your blog, I would have shut my eyes and shook my head and mentioned the closest acute care clinic, becase it is probably not something I am qualified to look at. But now that I am slowly acclimitizing to the 21st century, I have decided to start one...we'll see how it goes.
I guess the purpose of this blog is to help me keep in touch with the people I care about. Why? Because I suck at keeping in touch. This way the people I love in this world will be able to see what is going with me as I see it. And I can have a little fun with it as well. Hopefully my life is interesting enough to keep an attention span of at least 0.053867 seconds. (I've clocked my own attention span and I figure you cant get much less than that). So, to all I have invited to this site, I hope you enjoy and keep in touch with me as I keep in touch with you.
I guess the purpose of this blog is to help me keep in touch with the people I care about. Why? Because I suck at keeping in touch. This way the people I love in this world will be able to see what is going with me as I see it. And I can have a little fun with it as well. Hopefully my life is interesting enough to keep an attention span of at least 0.053867 seconds. (I've clocked my own attention span and I figure you cant get much less than that). So, to all I have invited to this site, I hope you enjoy and keep in touch with me as I keep in touch with you.
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