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Nothing butt a piece of meat

I was playing volleyball last night for the first time in 2 weeks. I’d sprained my ankle (3rd degree per the Doc) and have been going through withdrawal. I wanted to test it out last night so I went down to Sinclair CC and played open gym w/ most of the women’s volleyball team there.

Since I’m a gimp right now and really can’t jump more than an inch or two, all I really wanted to do was practice my setting…which needs the practice. So I was setting a 5-1 the whole time and started off terrible but worked my up to mediocre (I think).

For those of you who don’t follow or play volleyball, setters typically give the hitters hand signals for the type of set. Most setters give the signals behind their backs because most signals are universal and the other team will know what’s coming. I guess I tend to hold my signals a bit lower so they are in front of my butt.

One particularly attractive gal on the team was standing right behind me when I gave her the signal before the other team served and she says “You put the signal there just so I can look at your butt, don’t you?” I said “No, that’s just where they tend to go.” I said I’d move them higher to save her the disgrace of looking. And she replies “Oh, no. I like that way.” I thought “Was she just complimenting my on my backside?” After a couple more comments, it seemed like she was.

I guess I was just a bit surprised. I hadn’t gotten a compliment on my butt since high school I think. In fact, it reminds me of a story from when I was stationed in the Azores almost 10 years ago. There was a group of us that always hung out together. One of the gals was Kristin (kind of a weird coincidence since the gal from last night has the same name). We were all up at the base club, which was one of the few places to hang out. She was complimenting one of my friends on his butt. Being 21 and desperate for attention from an attractive, slightly older woman, I asked her what she thought of mine. She replied “Eric, I love you to death but you don’t have a butt.”

Lesson? Gain 20 pounds and wait 10 years. Then you magically have a butt worth noticing.

Little Things

I'm a creature of habit/patterns. Example: Once I'm in for the night, I prefer to stay to stay there. I think it's because I usually get home so late, that I'm just mentally ready to crash.

Last night was a personal night. I was going to do laundry, listen to the Reds on the radio and, if I had time, bake some brownies (don't make fun, they're good). I was going to do the brownies after the game was over. The game finished early(Reds lost 3-0). I had almost all the ingredients I needed except the chocolate chips. So I got in my truck and ran down to Kroger's to pick some up. I got some and some Orange Hi-C, stopped by the video store and got the new Lord of the Rings and went back to the apartment. Now, I was in for the night.

I had all of the ingredients on the coffee table and I was mixing the ingredients and watching LOTR on the tube. I get to the part where I mix the eggs and crack them to put in a bowl before mixing them w/ everything else. It came out in a clump. Ooops. Guess the eggs were old. Dangit. Now I have to go back out and pick up eggs. So I pause LOTR, get in the truck, drive to Kroger’s and pick out one of those 6-packs of eggs. I’m checking out and realize I have no cash, only my debit card. So I charged $.69 of eggs on my debit card. I felt like a tool. I could have grabbed that out of my truck but I was already checking out.

Anyway, I got home fine and watch about half the movie before the brownies were done. They came out just fine. Glad I got the eggs. Probably would have tasted like poo without them. On a related note, after placing the brownies in the oven, I realized that I hadn't put any vanilla in. I figured “Oh well. Too late.” After tasting them last night, the vanilla must not be that important. They tasted the same. Note to self, if you are doing this again and realize you have all my ingredients but the vanilla…it’s not worth going back out for.

Everyone else is doing it...

And they are. I visit the blogs of my sister and a few others pretty regularly and see them muse about things important and not important.

Why can't I?

If you're reading this, at this point, you're probably the only one.

Nightdog