Overprotective

Tuesday nights are my girls' nights; I go drink Cab Franc and listen to live Gypsy Jazz with a couple girlfriends, and we do girly things like talk about boys and catch up on life and stuff. We go to this really cool restaurant/bar in town that my one friend compares to the Prancing Pony in The Fellowship of the Ring- it's pretty fantastic. It's dark and small, and all the wooden barstools were handmade and they have good wine and food.

We usually show up around 9 or so, and the music starts at 10. That way, we have an hour to talk and then an hour of music (makes talking a little more difficult). So, I had told Chris I thought I would probably be home sometime around 11 or so. Another thing about the place we go on Tuesdays is that it gets incredibly crowded, and there's barely room for the band! So, it's often hard to get the check and pay while the band is playing. Basically, it always take me a little longer to get out of there than I think it will. So, last night at 11:10, I texted Chris: "Paying now" so he'd know I'd be home a little bit later than I thought. Oh, and another important note: I put my phone on silent so I wouldn't interrupt the band if someone tried to call me.

So, apparently Chris was watching his new favorite show on Netflix (Sons of Anarchy) when he got my text and texted me back: "K."

I got home right at 11:30, and, as I pulled in, I saw that the door was open and Chris was walking outside quite quickly. I opened the door and was like "Hey baby!" all smiley-like and he was like "What happened?" all frowny-like, and I was like "What do you mean?" I realized that I was home like five or ten minutes later than I could have been if I gotten the check back right when I texted him, but it is unusal for Chris to make a big deal about ten minutes (that's MY job!). Come to find out, his phone told him that the text I sent came at 10:10 instead of 11:10, when I actually sent it. He lost track of time a little watching his show and wasn't sure if maybe the text was sent at 10:10 even though he didn't see it until later. So, he called me three times (and again, I had put my phone on silent) and I didn't pick up.

So, I apologized, assured him that I had sent the text at 11:10, and told him that I was sorry he was so worried. We walked into the house together, and there in the foyer was Chris's gigantic shotgun propped up against the wall. So I was like, "um, why is that out?"(gasp! Was I to be punished for being late?), and he said he was planning on taking it with him when he went out searching for me (which he was apparently about to do when I pulled in). When I heard that, I asked him just what the hell he thought he was going to need it for. And he said, "I don't know, but I was going to go to the restaurant, see if you were there, and if not, who knows what would have happened." Ah, yes, "Be Prepared": I love my Boy Scout. And I just chuckled a little, apologized again for worrying him, melted ever-so-slightly, and then assured him that this moment would be forever documented on my blog (lucky him!). Oh yeah, and I told him to please put the 4-foot shotgun back please into the closet please. The boy has maybe watched too many episodes of Sons of Anarchy, which, I understand, is a bit violent.

But, on the other hand, it's a little nice to know he cares enough about me to blow away some potential abductor-bad-scary-kidnapper-evil guy with a giant shotgun to valiantly win me back, and all in a day's work (visual of Chris blowing the smoke away from his shotgun, which is in one hand, and throwing me over his shoulder with the other to carry me back into the house...). Yessir, all in a day's work.

Easter Bunday

I know it's a couple (ok, maybe a few) days late, but, in honor of Easter Sunday having been this past weekend, I wanted to post some pictures of Coltrane, my very own little Easter Bun. I hope all of you enjoyed your Easter Bundays, I mean Sundays...(feel free to call me a crazy bunny lady or a dork or whatever you wish!).

The ones of the bun eating basil are from his birthday. Basil was his birthday present. Yeah, that's pretty cute.

So, I actually spent my Easter Sunday in a kayak. How were your holidays?

Today, I Peed in the Woods

And I do not like to pee in the woods, nor am I particularly adept at it. My parents never really took me camping (my mother shudders at the thought of sleeping outside), and no one ever told me it was ok to do things like pee in the woods (people are supposed to pee in designated areas). And no one really said, "ok, this is how you pee in the woods," because, for a girl, it's not always as straight-forward as you might think... there's the Rodin's The Thinker position, the lean against a tree position, the hang off a tree branch position (yes, this is a real peeing position; I seen it!)... there are so many, and it's just such a vulnerable position to be in generally, and it just makes me uncomfortable. But, today, I'd say I excelled. Go me!

Chris and I took our new/old kayaks out together today for the first time. We went on a two-hour long paddle on a creek where you can put-in like eight minutes from our house (lucky us!). Also, conveniently, Chris's parents got him kayak racks for his van for his birthday. Happy birthday to him/me! 

We were lucky and had a gorgeous paddle on a gorgeous day. We saw Canadian Geese, Mallard ducks, fish, purple flowers, white flowers, and green all-around. It poured yesterday, so the water was really high, and we spent some time down a small fork, which was breathtakingly beautiful. I could have sworn we were in some other country; it didn't look like the Virginia landscape I was used to at all. And it was just peaceful and relaxing (and I'm sure you've all gleaned that I have trouble relaxing by now!). Here are a few pictrures, most of which Chris took:


Bow



Me paddling!



The end of the line for us up a small fork in the creek.



The captain.



I can't believe this is Virginia.



We really lucked out weather-wise.



These small, flowering trees dotted the countryside with purple.

At the end of the paddle, we ran in to one of our best friends, Jared. Hi Jared!

On the paddle back, I realized I had to pee. Pretty badly. Those two cups of coffee I had to have at brunch seemed like less of a good idea. I thought maybe I could make it until we got back, but then I realized that we'd have to get the boats on the car and all that jazz before we'd even leave for home. So I made the brave decision to pee in the woods. I paddled down a ways out of the way of where any traffic would be (though we saw all of three other paddlers the whole time), and, much to the chagrin of the Canadian Goose couple that was back there, I found me a damn-good tree. I made Chris my lookout. But don't even get me started on the whole drip-drying thing...

And I'm glad I made the decision to go, because I really enjoyed the paddle back to the car instead of feeling like I would die if we didn't get there RIGHT THIS INSTANT, DAMNIT!

I'm hoping to go paddling more weekends than not this warm-season. There will be some whitewater and some overnight trips on the horizon!

Oh, and if you ladies have pee-in-the-woods tips for me, please share. Please.

Co-ed Sports

I started this blog by writing some things about gender, my name, and how the environment you grow up in greatly influences who you become as an adult. I also wrote about how I have a bit of a complex when it comes to losing to boys.

That said, I joined a co-ed soccer team this spring, and some of those gender-type issues have surfaced for me as a result. I played on all-girls' teams from ages 10-18. So, I've found that there are some things I like about playing co-ed sports, and some things I can't stand. And, somehow, the cons have greatly out-weighed the pros for me.

Co-ed Pros:
1. The idea of equality! Someone, somewhere, decided that girls and guys are on the same level. I want to kiss that person.
2. Boys= yummy.
3. I've always had an easier time making friends with guys, and generally feel more comfortable around them. I couldn't tell you why.
4. Beating boys= amazing feeling!
5. Some teams seem to be able to have an amazing harmony and team-chemistry between male and female players. It's great to see.

Co-ed Cons:
1. Boys, on occasion, seem to not want to pass to girls. I'm not sure if this is something that is a concious choice or a subconcsious thing, but either way it sucks. Sucks sucks sucks. I especially hate it because I'm at least a semi-decent soccer player; it's not like I don't even know the rules or something. So these boys will dribble and dribble and show off and end up losing the ball. If they had done the simple thing and passed it to any of the open players (ME!) the ball would have remained in posession. I AM NOT IMPRESSED THAT YOU LOST THE BALL. PERIOD. ARGH! Seriously guys- girls don't sleep with ball-losing losers. Hopefully that solves that.
2. Guys and girls plays sports differently, I assume because different types of bodies are built for different things.  Because I played on girls' teams for so long, I know how to play the game the way females tend to: Lots of passing, give-and-go's, using your butt, etc. Throwing guys (who tend to play a running game featuring long kicks) and girls together makes it difficult to figure out what kind of strategy to use!
3. It's always some guy who appoints himself team-leader and starts ordering people around. Ryan no likey!
4. I have always had trouble making girl-friends, and, growing up, it was always my soccer team that provided me with the opportunity to find at least a few wonderful girls I enjoyed hanging out with. I think my life is a lot less rich for the lack of a Soccer Girls posse.
5. Some girls seem to be a little self-concious around boys, and, even though I'd like to say that I'm not, there's a chance that I am a little, at least on some level.
6. When boys beat me, I want to murder them.
7. There's a rule that you have to have at least 3 girls on the field. The reason such a rule exists is that there are always more boys than girls who sign up to play co-ed. This bothers me! We're always outnumbered!
8. I have yet to have a female referee. There seems to be a very real boys-are-in-charge feeling in the league.
9. Whether I like it or not, boys are often bigger, and they have hurt me quite a bit this season. I got elbowed in the face this past weekend, got taken out to the tune of a bloody skinned knee last weekend, and I am pretty much covered in nasty bruises. At least I get bragging rights.

So, perhaps this means I should play in the womens' league next season. I dunno. What I do know is how much I've been thinking about my old travel team from high school. I miss it. I miss the people, the chemistry, my old friends, the coaches, everything. Mainly I miss how sure of myself I was back then. No matter what bullshit (and man, was there some bullshit) was going on in other parts of my life, I always had confidence that I was a good soccer player, that I had people around me who liked and respected me, that I looked good, and that I was going places.

And here I am.