Wishful Slacker

Saturday Football!

At the local watering hole
Wait, is my baby cheering for State?

Our little soccer fan

Rooting for England with Grandpa

Bracketeering

My early companionship with Jim brought with it a plethora of new experiences.  Real half 'n half.  Homemade ice cream.  Bicycles.  The Gathering.  And March Madness.

I was never a basketball fan growing up.  In fact, basketball falls into the same category as ice hockey and football- I have never physically attended a professional game.  I would have never gone to a college game in these sports either had it not been for when my classmates and I snatched up some season football tickets during my graduate school days at the University of Michigan (and had a BLAST, might I add, even though Michigan really sucked that year.  In fact, have they even improved since then?  Perhaps it was my presence way, way up in the student section back in 2005 that spurred their decline). 

Growing up, the phrase March Madness was only used in reference to our frustrations at having to scrape ice off the car for the bajillionth time that winter.  In no way was it ever used in conjunction with the words college basketball.  Then I began dating Jim, and in February his eyes began to gleam and he clapped his hands together in excitement and anticipation every time he realized we were one day closer to March.  Strange, I thought, but I attributed it to the devastating effects of seasonal affective disorder and poured him another cup of coffee.  Finally, one Sunday evening I was at his apartment studying, and he pulled his chair RIGHT up to the television as the names of colleges were called and rooms full of boys leapt up and cheered like a bunch of girls.  I had NO idea what was going on, and grew even more perplexed when the printer began churning out two pieces of paper, one of which flittered through the air and landed on my Endocrinology notes. 

"Here's your bracket!!!" he danced. 

"My what?"

That was eight brackets ago.  And over these years, I have to say that I have mastered the art of completing a bracket.  While others spend hours analyzing statistics and pouring over message boards online, I select my bracket picks with an ease I wish I possessed for all other decisions in my life.  I become consumed by the delightful power of reckless abandon.  It goes like this:

"Kansas #1 versus Boston U. #16. Duh, Kansas (circle Kansas).  UNLV #8 versus Illinois #9.  I live in Illinois, so moving along (circle Illinois).  North Carolina #2 versus Long Island #15.  Mmmmm, Long Island ice tea...FOCUS FOCUS (circle North Carolina).  USC versus VCU?  Well, U comes before V in the alphabet (circle USC).  GO USC!!! GO USC!!!"
 
The whole process takes me about 30 seconds.   

Jim takes his time.  From my observations, he seems to rely on his intuition first, followed by some light research for those difficult picks.  He completes multiple brackets for good measure, one for the cat, and this year, one for the baby.  The cat's is easy (he selects all the teams with feline-inspired mascots), but he commented that without teams like "Our Lady of the Pacifier" or "Infant State," the baby's bracket might be more of a challenge. 

Just because I do my bracket completely half-assed does NOT mean I do not enjoy the tournament.  If anything, my bracket gives me a definite leg up in my viewing pleasure.  I now have a team to cheer on, an investment in the March Madness viewing experience.  A happy marriage takes time and effort- enjoying March Madness with the husband does wonders for our union (as does waiting to watch the William Hurt version of Jane Eyre until he is down in the exercise room).  And it's plain ole fun! 

Seeing how much enjoyment I've had in past years, I have tried to encourage my father to fill out his own NCAA bracket.  My dad, an avid follower of English League soccer, Formula One racing, rugby, and cricket, usually responds by giving me a look that makes me wonder if instead what came out of my mouth was, "Hey Dad, have you ever tried hula hooping with a cooked spaghetti noodle?  It's AWESOME!"  It's truly no wonder that I had never heard of the real March Madness before meeting Jim.

To finish, remember how I said that I wish I could make all my decisions like my bracket picks?  Wouldn't it be great if every series of choices came in bracket form?  I could really go for that.  What movie should we watch next on Netflix?  Well, let's complete our Netflix movie bracket!  Where should we go out to eat?  Wishbone versus Orange?  Frasca versus Four Moon?  Cheddar or American cheese?  French fries or onion rings?  Boom boom boom- there's no second guessing, no pointless time-sucking pondering.  Just one juicy burger and a content belly.

Go Blackhawks!

 
What a fun week to be in Chicago!  Below are a couple pictures that my husband took from the parking garage in Trump Tower, overlooking the Stanley Cup victory parade and rally at Michigan Avenue and Wacker.  An estimated 2 million people attended!  At first I wished I was there.  Then with the heat I decided that the best spot to watch would have been from home in our air-conditioned living room!  Last evening we did just that, enjoying the WGN coverage that we had tivo'd during the day. 

It is such a blast when these events occur in your city.  After the win Wednesday night we scrambled up to the roof like kids as Chicagoans let off fireworks and blasted their car horns.  We saw SEVEN news and police helicopters arrange themselves along the lakefront as revelers in Wrigleyville took to the streets.  Reigning from the Detroit area, I have so many great memories of the Red Wings' Stanley Cup victories in 1997, 1998, and 2002.  And now that we're here in Chicago, we got to enjoy this one as well!  I consider ourselves pretty lucky! 


 
And we couldn't forget about Little Punk!

My Olympic Moment

Yikes it's been a while since I posted here!  It's been a busy past week, folding into another busy two weeks ahead as I am now on call at work!  Ugh.  Too much.

This does not mean that I haven't been thinking of good things to post here.  Oh no, I've accumulated several ideas, but these may end up slowly dribbling out over the next couple weeks as I find time.  Recipes and wishful slacker thoughts will soon be back in gear.

With all this craziness, at least there's the Olympics!  Haven't you all loved it?  For me, it is so refreshing to go through a hectic work day and know that you have some terrific television to catch up on at night!  I love it.

From the train, Jackson Michigan
             
I took a dreamy train ride home to Michigan this past weekend.  As the trees whizzed by, my mind did an awful lot of blissful wandering.  I got to thinking about the Olympic athletes who, over time, molded their identity around a particular skill and pursued their dream to make it to the Olympic games.  Then I began thinking of the violinists and other musicians that we saw from the Chicago Symphony Orchestra a couple weekends ago.  Their story is quite similar- what first started as a hobby then developed into a part of themselves.  I think we always look as these individuals with awe, but forget that we too are filled with dreams and talents, people like you and me.  We are not decorated athletes or musicians playing in a world-renowned orchestra, but rather ordinary folks going about their 9-5 jobs.   Don't you think that everyone has Olympic-sized passions that shape and enrich the essence of their being?  What activities and interests helped to create who you are today?  Feel free to comment on what yours are at the end of this post, I think that'd be pretty cool!  Cooking, scrapbooking, traveling, swimming, working, whatever!  I'll post mine in the comments section too. 

I'll leave you with my own Olympic moment.  It was not on the world stage, but rather my grandmother's kitchen.  The clip below is taken from a Peanuts cartoon that I just loved as a little girl.  My grandma, who had a gift for whistling, used to stand in the doorway and whistle "O Mio Babbino Caro" while I "ice skated" on her linoleum flooring in my socks.  It was not broadcast to millions over the television and didn't score full points with the judges, but in these little slices of time I felt on top of the world.  Now all I have to say is thank goodness for YouTube for allowing me to watch it again!  Watching Snoopy get all frustrated out on the ice with the broken tape really makes me laugh too :-)

 

 

A sure sign of summer

Blue sky, blue cotton candy, what could be better?  We ventured to the far distant community of Bridgeview to take in our first match of the Chicago Fire, Chicago's major league soccer team.  Although the Fire lost (they've been undefeated up until now -we must be bad luck), it was a great afternoon.  Those Chicago Fire fans are serious!