I was in the Hive but I didn't get to stay

Anyone that's been paying attention to me knows that tonight I tried out for the Swarm Performance Team.  Basically the Swarm is Minnesota's professional Lacrosse team, and the SPT as they are called for short are their dance team/cheerleaders.  Since they're the Swarm, their little fan group, arena, etc is called the Hive (even though they're in the Xcel). So you understand my title...

Anyway there were 44 girls there tonight.  I was number 26.  I was really hoping to get my favorite numbers (16 for Ross and Joe Mauer in high school or 7 for Joe Mauer now) but I had to settle for a number with 6 in it and being in group 7. Haha.

There was one moment before we even got inside that I was just like, wow we are sterotypical dumb cheerleaders.  We all had to park in one of the lots and it was a pay lot where you go pay at a machine in the middle of the lot.  Well nearly all of us just ran to the machine to pay, only to realize we had to enter the lot number our car was parked in into the machine!  So you see all these girls running up to the machine and then running back to their cars and running back to the machine again...and I was thinking how we were just totally fitting the sterotype right then.

Right away I met really nice girls, a few of them were Vikings cheerleaders.  In the first group of girls I was part of walking in, I ended up going out with two of them at the end of the night because their friend who was a Vikings cheerleader got called back and she was their ride.  There were a TON of Vikings cheerleaders there.  Usually at a tryout like that you see girls and you're like, "really? What are you doing here?" I didn't see any of those.  All the girls were gorgeous and good.  We didn't envy the judges.

Right away they tell you that they don't care if you screwed up your routine, they care about your attitude.  That's a lie.  Espeisally when everyone is equally good.  It totally matters if your routine is good or not. My problem was that right before I went into the judges, my mind went totally blank and I forgot everything.  I really wanted a do-over.  And I did get to do it twice, but the second time was even worse than the first time because I knew I'd just screwed up the first time.  My moves were not sharp.  It sucked because about the 30th time I did the dance I really nailed it.  I know I did.  But the 40th and 41st times I did it in front of the judges I couldn't remember anything.  I actually wished it was a two day tryout like the Vikings so I could have had time to process the routine better. Maybe I should have done it less. I don't know.  I mean, I don't screw up during performances, so...I don't know what's with me and judges.

I'm going to keep going.  A lot of the girls were like, I don't know if this is for me, I'm not going to do it again.  But I loved every minute of it.  Except when I screwed up of course.  I already plan on doing the Vikings in April and even the Timberwolves whenever they are.  Just for more practice.  Bcause I'd really like to be on the Swarm.  It's not as much of a commitment as the other teams and that's why everyone wants to be on it.

Actually, my real hope is that the Twins decide to get a dance team and that I can make that.  THAT is my real dream :)  So I'm going to keep practicing.  It was fun.

I did get cut in the first round.  But so did a whole lot of other really amazing dancers including Vikings cheerleaders.  So I don't feel bad...

And now I can eat.  It was so funny, when the four of us decided to go out after we got cut, we asked each other what we were doing the rest of the weekend and we all were like "EAT!!!!"  None of us had eaten real food in weeks.  It was nice to know they were going through the same things I was.  We just sat around and talked about all the things we wanted to eat. 

And I did get to try on the uniform and the boots by the way :)  I wish I could have gotten to keep them.

And it's taking me a really long time to write this blog because I'm also watching The Hills Have Eyes.  I don't know why I'm watching this movie.  It is so horrible.  The first time I saw it I was home alone for the weekend and watched it in the dark, with the screen door open downstairs.  You have to give me credit, that takes a lot of balls.  Anyway right now I'm on the part where the dad is getting burned alive and it makes me feel sick.  I hate that part! Why am I watching this movie at all?  Now the dude is eating the parakeet... I really should turn this off.  This is the most disgusting movie I've ever seen.  No wait, I did see the Hills Have Eyes 2.  That was worse and that had no plot.

This is why I usually stick to comedies.  This movie is just so sick.  If you've never seen it, don't.  Maybe I was much more desensitized three years ago because I don't remember it bothering me this much the first time I saw it.

So I'm getting a little sadder now that I didn't make it.  Probably just because I forgot some of the routine so I feel like I could have done better even though it supposedly didn't matter if you forgot it.

Okay so instead of the Hills Have Eyes I am now watching Worlds Cutest Dogs.  That should make things better!  I will try not to imagine the dogs gutted and cut to pieces with people eating them as in The Hills Have Eyes.

My knees really hurt.  I loved our tryout dance but I knew there would be some floor work involved and I was right.  They're already turning black and blue.  I guess my knees are just too bony for floor work :)  And you should have smelled me tonight!! It was the first and only time I've ever smelled like a football player.  I was kind of impressed.  Of course it was so unGodly hot in the tryout space, we were all pouring sweat.  I mean pouring.  From head to toe.  Probably the worst I've ever sweated in my life, and when you take into account I was only wearing a sports bra, booty shorts and tights, that means it was pretty ridiculously hot in there and we were working hard!!!!

And fyi I think Ross's other fish just died.  I'm already wondering if we should get some goldfish or surrender the cabinet for more decorating space.

Well I think maybe I'll do some real writing now.  And instead of being bummed about not getting on the Swarm (this year!) I will focus on our upcoming Christmas show and Fluid Dance Convention!  And of course the Vikings tryouts in April...

Until tomorrow...

Coming to you LIVE from the Pink Laptop

Oh yes, I got it.  I am coming to you live from my new laptop.  I've waited over a year for this.
Really. An entire year.

Actually, more than that.  My old laptop died in May of 2008.  It was a rough week in general. One of those week where the whole world comes crashing down around your ears.


My laptop dying was first.  I was just reading through some old stories on it late at night when suddenly the screen went black.  In a Mac, we would call it The Blue Screen of Death.  I guess in Windows its called the Black Screen of Death.

Regardless, being the computer person that I am, I knew what it meant.  I knew it was bad.  I knew either my motherboard or my hard drive was fried.

Looking back I now know it was my motherboard and maybe it could have been fixed.  But let's face it, I got that laptop in June of 2001.  It followed me through that summer after senior year, the beginning of college, 9/11, all the stuff that happened in college, the end of college, after college, getting engaged...it lasted a long time.  On 4G of space.  It was angry towards the end, arguing with me that it didn't have enough virtual memory and of course that's bad for the computer.  I tried to delete files and programs but eventually it was just too much.  7 years of solid use for my Compaq was just too much and it died.

I cried.  For days.  I was lost without that laptop.  It literally was my best friend.  Being a writer, you understand, my entire life was documented on that tiny black machine.  I did everything I knew to do.  I sweet talked it.  I restarted in Safe Mode.  I petted it.  I begged it.

IIt was just dead.  And all my stories, my entire life, was sitting on the hard drive.

I got desktop from a garage sale.  We ripped apart my laptop, knowing we were out of options (We being me and my dad, a computer guru) and tried to install the hard drive into the PC. No dice.  I was on the phone with Ross, crying about how I just wanted my files and everything would be fine.

Finally, I found a little computer shop in Sun Ray Shopping Center that seemed to be able to help.  I took my precious hard drive to them (that's all it was by that point, just a hard drive) and they turned it into an external hard drive for $80.

It worked.  Sort of.

I have an $80 paper weight right now because several months after they "fixed" it, it randomly stopped working.  But it was enough.  By then I'd learned my lesson and as soon as I got my files back I burned them onto a c.d.

That c.d. is sitting in my safe right now.  Really.  I won't take that chance again.  But of course I still have an $80 paper weight sitting in my filing cabinet.  I don't care.  I'd pay it over 100 times to get those files back.

I remember once when I was in high school and I was at my boyfriend at the time's house, playing a game of "Would You Rather"--an actual board game version.  His mom read off a card, and I don't remember what the first option was, but the second option was "or lose your entire life's work."  Of course I thought of all my stories and felt ill.  I couldn't imagine it!  It would have been some of the worst possible torture.

So there I was, in May of 2008, faced with that very possibility.  I waited on pins and needles a solid week to find out the fate of my life's work.

In between that week: my kitten was sick, my dad landed in the hospital and had to have emergency surgery, my Memorial Day vacation was ruined, and I landed myself in the middle of a tornado and major hail storm that severly damaged my car.

That was ONE week, people.  There was more that happened but honestly I can't remember it any more.  I think I blocked it out.  I remember sitting in the living room (before the tornado!) thinking that I must have done something really bad because honestly, what else could happen to me at this point?  My life was a total hhole...and like I said that was before the tornado hit.

So a piece of advice: Never say "It can't get any worse than this."  Because trust me, IT CAN.  I lived it.  Every time I said it, something else happened.

So I've been through 3 computers trying to find a replacement for my beloved laptop.  The one I bought at a garage sale (lots of space, video card from the 1980s), my parents old computer (had a video card from the 1990s but still sucked and couldn't use broadband internet) and one we bought off Craig's List.  That one is actually a pretty decent computer, a few quirks, but semi-modern.  It's Ross's computer now :)  We fought over it a lot.  So I'm so happy to finally, FINALLY have a laptop replacement.

Now I just have to replace a lot of things that didn't get transfered from my parents computer--i.e. my iTunes files.  My dad had burned them all onto a disk so he could delete them from his computer...only he didn't burn them all.  I've got like, 1/3.  And I still have to go through everything I downloaded on our other computer and get that on here.

Thankfully Windows 7 has this neat little folder in My Music called "Add to iTunes Automatically" so all I do is drag the files in there and it does the rest of the work.  Now if only I had the rest of the files....They're on my iPod but every program I've found that transfers them costs money...I don't know what to do about this.  I guess I will still not sync my iPod (it hasn't been sunk? since December...) until I figure out what to do.

Oh yeah and tomorrow is the Swarm Tryouts.  I'm kinda glad I had so much to do with this tonight (including 2 hours in live chat with Qwest to get my internet working) so I couldn't think about it.  You know there is a 90% chance I won't make it? There are only 10 spots and if 100 girls show up... Yeah that's pretty depressing.

I should probably go to bed now.  It is after midnight.  Of course I'm on a laptop now and I could just take it to bed with me and keep typing haha!!!

Oh yeah and I decided to name my laptop Pinkie.  I like to name things.  My car's name is Cobie.  I used to name all our cars. We had a '87 Corolla named Luke, an '87 Oldsmobile named Jessie, and an '89 Plymouth Sundance named Pat. I didn't like the car very much and I didn't like the name Pat so--bam.  I stopped naming cars however when we traded Jessie for a mini van.  I was very upset.  Jessie was my favorite car ever (a pearl red coupe with mag wheels) and the mini van was...well it was a mini van.  I was so upset I refused to name it.  And then the naming trend kind of ended.  Until I named my Cavalier Cavi and then it went on again...  Although I did name our '96 Chevy pickup "The Monster" but that was just because it was a big truck and it was stick and it was hard to drive...  Of course you know that was the first car I ever drove.  My dad is that mean :) I was 15 and he was picking me up from the mall and said "you want to drive?" and of course I said sure...and he said "all right, move over!"  I couldn't believe he was serious, but he was.  He made me drive that thing around the parking lot.

He actually tried to teach me to drive when I was 12--we had a Jeep and he wanted me to take it off roading for driving practice.  But my one condition was that I had to read the owner's manual cover to cover first and it just never happened.

It wasn't a big deal, he let me drive our boat whenever I wanted.  That was like my car until I got my license.  I started driving that when I was 9, which was good or bad, depending on how you look at it.  It did give me a terrible habit of drifting all over the road because a boat just naturally drifts while you're driving it... We almost went home with a few mailboxes implanted in our hood the first time I ever actually drove a car on the road.

Well now I really better go to bed.

Until tomorrow (or Sunday...)

It's after midnight, I should probably go to bed.

Just one of dem days...

So I was thinking about how crappy this day was and how I was going to write about it...

Then I put on my pointe shoes and all my problems went away.  And I remember why I dance.  And why I love it.  Because it makes me forget about everything else that sucks. 

The Swarm thing has kind of been making me forget that lately.  Because it's not so much about the dancing as how I look and how I act and what I'm wearing and what my skillz are and I'm freaking out about that.  It seems like I haven't had much fun lately worrying about this thing.  But then I dance and I remember why I want to do it in the first place!  Because I love the glitz and the glamour and the dancing but not so much the dieting and the being perfect at everything.

Every time I watch episodes about dieting and see girls crash dieting or starving themselves, I'm like "pfft they are so full of it, they don't have to crash diet like that it's so unhealthy, they have no idea how to properly diet..."

But now I understand.  I'm three days away from this tryout and I look like I swallowed a watermellon thanks to my eating out last week/weekend.  I was doing sooo good until that.  I can't believe my body picked this week to look like this when last week, 2 weeks ago I looked almost perfect. I was there, and then I took five giant steps backwards.  Why did I cheat this close to DDay?  I should have cheated 2 weeks ago when I had time to fix it.

And now I don't have time. I considered going on a liquid diet for the next three days.  I don't know if I can do that.  I don't know what TO do.  Today I had a Special K bar, easy mac (if Justin Moreneau can eat it every day I figured I could eat it once), and cheese crackers.

That's it.  I used to berate girls who did things like this to their bodies.

Now I'm suddenly one of them.

Don't be like me.  Please.  I am going to go home and have a big glass of V8 juice so that will help, that's an entire serving of fruits and veggies!

I won't even get into the fact that my hip has been bothering me for over a week now and it's made it nearly impossible for me to get into my splits.  Oh yeah, I lost my ablity to get down into the splits in one week.  And that would be a requirement for a dance team.  I've decided I'm just going to go Joe Mauer on this and play through the pain, so to speak.

Also today it rained all day.  I can usually handle that, but so many other things kept happening...  My mom called and now we have no church.  They got in another fight with the pastor (a family friend) and now they're "not friends" anymore and we're leaving the church. Again. (Yes this is not the first time it's happened with them)  You're probably wondering (pairing this with my blog post about the wedding we were excluded from) how my parents manage to lose all their friends?  Honestly I think they'll be friends again.  They just need to get past this.  Like I said, it's happened before.  But they just have really crappy timing.  I mean, it's my dad's birthday on Saturday and they have to pull this crap now? We had to cancel his party because of this.  That really makes me mad.  I didn't realize it until now...

Then I found out that no one seems to want to come to my Halloween party next Friday.  I haven't had any RSVPs (except a few maybes) and then today my best friend (who always co-throws the party with me, this has been going on for years!) tells me she doesn't really feel like coming.  She doesn't have a Halloween costume and she doesn't know what she wants to be or spend the money on something so she doesn't really want to go.

Have I mentioned Halloween is one of my favorite holidays? And the only holiday where I get to throw a party?  If we didn't already have plans for Saturday, I'd be devistated right now.  As it is, I'm pissed.  Why bother throwing this party if no one is going to bother to show up?  And I doubt that I can force people to give me a yes or no answer by next week.  It makes me think of back in the day, when if someone invited you somewhere you said yes right away and were damn grateful and if other plans came up you had to turn them down.  Now days everyone says "maybe" just in case something better comes along.  And I can't be too angry about that because I've done it myself.  I just hate that this is where this culture has gone to.  Where is our comittment, people?

Then I found out my gift cards arrived so I can get my laptop from Best Buy.  This has a couple issues-- 1. I work every night until Friday so we can't go to the store until then. 2. I can't order it online because I can't have it delivered to my apt. because UPS sucks and they won't leave any packages and they only deliver when I'm at work! 3. I have to special order it because they only hae it online.

And now 4. when I looked it up online, it was gone! In its place were a whole bunch of brand new laptops that you can't even buy--they all say "pre-order."  This is because Windows 7 comes out tomorrow and Sony decided to pull all their computers that run Vista to force you to buy Windows 7.

I don't mind buying Windows 7.  In fact, I want to.  I HATE Vista. It blows.  I've heard wonderful things about Windows 7.  However I didn't know when this was supposed to be released! 2 months from now?

So the bright spot in my day was that I called Best Buy and they explained to me that I could buy it online, with gift cards, exaclty what I wanted, have it delivered to work so I'd actually be there! And Windows 7 comes out tomorrow! So things weren't so bad at all. I'm ordering my laptop tonight. I hope that it's not already on backorder...  But I will wait patiently. It's been over a year since my old laptop died and I've waited this long to be without it, so what's a few more days or weeks?  I really hope it comes soon though. Next week would be good!

Then I found out a bunch of letters didn't get into one of my papers, and I still have to finish my Halloween costume and my extra stuff for Swarm and figure out what else I'm supposed to do for the Swarm because the communication has sucked on their end!  And Ross's work laptop died and his fish died and I can't think straight about half the things I'm supposed to do and Hope is lonely because we're never home and...my other boss wants to talk to me about something and I'm convinced I'm in trouble because at my other job "let's talk" always means you should be fired! even though I have no idea what I did wrong. And it's been driving me crazy...

The list goes on.  I can't actually remember more right now, but that's a good thing. I choose not to.

Until tomorrow...

Storm Stories 2

I know I said awhile ago I would continue the tornado stories. That was August 15.  Now it's October 18th.

Sorry.  I don't call it the Random blog for nothing. I can't stay on a train of thought.

But right now I'm watching Storm Chasers so I'm thinking about it again.  Everyone keeps asking me why we're still testing the tornado sirens when we won't have any more tornados this year.

Actually, the lastest ever tornado recorded in Minneosta was November 16, 1931 near Maple Plain.  So there :)  Not out of the woods yet, people.  But I think we've got a much better chance this year of getting a blizzard by Nov. 16 rather than a twister.

So without further aduo, I bring you...

Tornado #3 - Foster, WI, August 27, 1994 (F3 tornado) **okay I cheated and looked up the date online. But I still knew it was the summer of 1994**

This was a big, bad tornado.  It killed two people.  It did a lot of damage.  I know, you're thinking Foster?  I thought she lived in Eau Claire?  No, I lived out in the middle of nowhere outside Eau Claire. I actually lived 3 miles outside the village of Cleghorn (remember me talking about that trash town?) and Cleghorn is 7 miles northwest of the town of Foster.  And it's all farm fields in between that.

Aug. 27 we'd just gotten home from Three Lakes.  Judging by the date I'd say it was Labor Day weekend but I honestly don't remember.  Here's what I do remember--it was getting dark when we got home about three or four in the afternoon.  I unpacked my stuff and took a bath.  I put on my blue t-shirt with a big flourecent yellow circle on it with a mosquito in the center that said "Wisconsin State Bird" under it. Haha.

Back then we had a tri-level house, as my parents do now, so my room and bathroom and family room were in the lower level (but there was still one more level down in the basement.)  I could hear the storm starting up outside, so I went out into the family room to check on it.  The windows were now black.  I went upstairs into the kitchen where my mom was unpacking food from the trip.  At that point we were under a tornado watch and she was too busy unpacking to be concerned about the storm.  I grabbed a bag of Cheetos and starred out the bay window, watching the trees whip around in the oncoming storm.

My wet hair hadn't been combed out yet, so I went back downstairs.  I flipped on the t.v. to the local station and went into the bathroom.  I was brushing out my hair when I heard the dreaded warning beeps come across the t.v.  I ran into family room and sat in front of the t.v. in time to see the weather man standing in front of the doppler map (which was black with white county lines and roads and basically looked like your old Apple II display) and he was saying we were under a tornado warning and a tornado was currently in the town of Foster.  They believed it to be very large and dangerous.  He had a triangle on the map just outside Foster where the tornado was, then said the storm was headed northwest.

What's northwest of Foster?

Oh yeah, my house!

Just in case I wasn't clear on that, he drew a dotted line of the projected path of the tornado.  It cut right through Cleghorn, and literally right over my house.  I could locate my neighborhood on the map and the dotted line went right over it.  Now isn't that enough to freak you out?

I looked out the window at the black sky.  In a huge flash of lightening, I could see the medium sized jack pines in our yard.  They were nearly parallel with the ground--the wind was that strong.  The lightening flashed over and over again and I expected any minute for those trees to be ripped straight out of the ground.

It was about that time my mom realized what was happening and started screaming at me to get the animals and get in the basement.  I ran upstairs and grabbed my dog, Heidi, and pushed her downstairs.  She didn't want to go.  I shoved her down the basement stairs and slammed the door.  Then I had to run up to the second floor to grab my cat, Oreo.  I ran down two flights of stairs with him, then opened the basement door and Heidi ran out.  I threw Oreo inside the basement and ran back upstairs after Heidi. I could hear the wind escalating outside.  The noise was getting incredible.  I pushed her down the stairs again, grabbed the Cheetos from bribery, and joined her down there.  Our basement was seperated into two rooms (still is) a laundry room and the utility room which was safer and further under the house.  So Heidi and I sat in the utility room (Oreo stayed in the laundry room, there was too much trouble for a cat to get into in the utility room) and ate Cheetos manically as it sounded like the house was being torn apart over our heads.

Where are my parents?  Upstairs.  My dad never has gone into the basement once during a storm.  He stays outside or upstairs and watches the sky.  I always wanted to watch with him but my mom would never let me.  This time he was sitting in the screen porch at the back of the house, watching the storm.  My mom was in the kitchen praying and watching the storm.

Finally she called to me that the tornado had fallen apart and it was safe to come upstairs.

That didn't mean the storm was over.  Knowing what I know now, it probably wasn't safe to come upstairs yet. That tornado absoultely could have reformed right over our heads and there would have been no warning for us--no time to take shelter before it hit.

In fact, it stormed until after I went to bed.  My mom finally decided it was safer for us to stay down in the family room, just in case.  I remember we sat down there, trying to watch t.v. as the storm kept raging, this time making the power cut out every five minutes.

That was sooo creepy.  You're sitting there, all on edge because there's already been a tornado once, and suddenly there's a loud pop and all the power shuts off and you're sitting there in the dark with lightening and thunder crashing all around you.  You can't see anything but lightening.  Honestly that was one of the most frightening nights of my life.  I was pracitcally crying by the end of it because my nerves were so fried.  You don't know if another tornado is dropping on you at that very second because it's dark and your power is off.  I already mentioned we couldn't hear the sirens where we lived.  And then the power comes back on...and then off.  And then on...and then off.  Repeat that for two hours.

The town of Foster was pretty messed up.  Mostly outside of town in the farm fields.  There was a lot of damage, and my parents drove down on my dad's motorcycle to see it.  I asked my mom to go see it, but she said no because it was pretty devistating and she was worried it would give me nightmares.  She was always worried about me getting nightmares.  Honestly, I got way more nightmares from things SHE told me or showed me than anything else I saw that she was afraid of me seeing. (There's a story about cows and a barn fire I should tell here but I'll save it for another time).

Anyway, my dad and I went on a motorcycle ride shortly after that, and he asked me if I wanted to see the damage.  I said yes, of course.  So we drove out there.  He said, don't tell your mom I showed you :)

I have to say, it was creepy.  I saw lots of destroyed houses and barns, but that wasn't the creepy part.

As we drove through the countryside, there was a huge farm field to our right with a line of trees at the far side.  You could see all these trees, intact, then suddenly--no trees.  Flattened messes of trees went for about 1/4 mile, then suddenly stood right back up again.  A mess of torn up dirt extended from that empty space of no trees right down through the field, across the road where we were driving, and straight into a house at the other side of the road.  You could see exaclty where that tornado came through, exactly how wide it was (very wide!).  That was the creepiest image that won't leave my mind.

Okay, off to bed now.  Until next time (and maybe another storm story...)

Everybody wants to rule the world...

We all want to be special.  I do, you do.

No really, you do.  Admit it.  You want to be famous (however your level of fame may vary) and do important things that matter to people.  You want to be the person that little kids look up to and say "Mommy I really wish that I could meet ______, he/she is sooo cool!"

I know I do.

Unless of course you hate children.  And people.  Then I really can't help you.  I hope that you can find a nice hermit cave somewhere in the mountains.

I am on this topic because today I was at the last ever *regular season* game at the Metrodome.  Detroit won, so we did not clinch the division as I'd hoped, but we did tie and now there is a tie breaker on Tuesday.  You know I already got my tickets.  We called in the middle of the 8th inning, said that magic phrase "Season Ticket Holders" and bam.  Went down to the executive offices after the festivities and got them fresh off the printer.  Yes, the offices were very close to where the Very Important People hang out. We saw Al Newman. I was punching Ross in the arm like, "Oh my God! Oh my God!" And he's like, "what?!"  And I said "look, Al Newman!" And Ross said "So?? He's nobody."  And I said "he's more somebody than you are, or me for that matter,"  I guess I get star struck very easily.  Like, "you were an extra in a Doritos commercial and you got to shake hands with the director who is a cousin of Tom Cruise?  OH MY GOD!!!  YOU ARE SO COOL!!!" 

But it was the Goodbye Metrodome ceremony.  I was pumped after the game, but that ceremony really depressed me.

I don't like change.  I mean, I do, but I don't.  I like the new things, but I usually don't want to give up the old things to get the new things.  Inanimate objects hold serious emotional attachment for me. Like cars.  I like to get new cars.  I really, really like it or I wouldn't have had 4 cars in my car owning history.  However, I hate letting go of the old car.  I take a million pictures of it, spend time in it, remember every single stupid moment that happened in it (every guy I liked that rode in it with me) and basically wish I could keep it and the new car.  Just so I could pull it out and spend time with its memories every once and a while.

My best guy friend had this amazing '96 Mitsubishi Eclipse that he kept for most of our "dating" relationship (from 2000 until 2005--that's when we had the car, our romantic entanglement went long beyond and after that!)  I loved that car.  I loved the moments we had in it (and there were a LOT of amazing moments) even though he had a custom muffler that was so loud you could hear him coming from miles away every time he picked me up (and really pissed off my family when he dropped me off at 3am) that pretty much caused instant headache every time you got inside, and it always smelled like watermelon air freshener and pot (don't ask) and the incredible sound system is probably to blame for some of my mild hearing damage--um I loved that car.  I loved riding in it, loved driving it (yes he let me drive it and it's one of my top 10 best moments of my life) just loved it.

In 2004 he talked about getting rid of it. I was heartbroken.  I begged him not to.  I promised when he was serious about getting rid of it, I would buy it from him. I took a million pictures of it.  But he kept it for one more year.  And...I can't say what happened in that car that summer of 2005.  But he sold it a few months later (perhaps he had a guilty conscience every time he drove his girlfriend around in it afterwards????)  I was heartbroken.  I honestly would have bought that car from him.  It meant that much to me.  It still does and if I ever find it, I'm buying it (as a fun extra car).

So how does this apply to the metrodome and that whole thing about being famous?  I'm getting there.  This is the RANDOM blog, after all.

The Metrodome is kind of like that car. No, it doesn't smell like watermelon air freshener or pot.  But the noise sometimes causes hearing damage...  I have a lot of Metrodome Memories.  Not 100 by any means, but a lot.  My first time at the Dome was when I was 12, for a Twins game. I talked about it a bit in an earlier blog.  How bored I was...but I loved the Dome! I thought it was totally cool.  I spent innings 4-9 skipping through the upper concorse arm and arm with my best friend at the time RaeAnn singing songs.

The next time I was at the Dome, was after I became an offical Minnesota resident.  As a Woodbury kid, all our chamionship games were played at the game.  Football, soccer, baseball...well I guess that's about it.  But hey our soccer and football teams were good so my junior year alone we had minimally 3 games at the Dome (there were more during the playoffs).  The next year too.  This of course is the part were I remember how we nearly had 2 state championships in 2 years--until a skinny kid from Cretin Derham Hall named Joe Mauer became the best quarterback EVER and robbed us in '99.  This led me to have a deep, intense hatred of Cretin Derham Hall for years.  Literally every time I drove past Cretin Ave/Vandalia St exit on I-94, I would growl and curse the school, shaking my fist.  Not kidding.  Now my love for Joe Mauer has made me appreciate CDH so I no longer curse it every time I drive by.

After high school I thought my Dome days were over.  But I was wrong!  Since I stayed in St. Paul for college, going to Northwestern, we had this thing called "The Dome Game" in football where all the schools in our conference (UMAC) got together and had "playoffs."  They didn't actually mean anything.  If you won the #1 seed game at night you got a trophy and that was about it.  You were the best in the conference (however it had nothing to do with the actual conference championship. It just mean you were the best on Dome Day.)

So I got to go back to the Dome.  And since I was just as obessed with our football team and the players as I am with the Twins and their players, it was a BIG DEAL.  I was there early.  Takin' pictures.

After college (and the fallout with those same people that came after it) I thought I was done with the Dome again.  Then I became a Twins fan.

So the Dome holds a lot of memories.  And after the ceremony today, Ross nearly had to drag me out of the place by the hair.  I did not want to leave.  He was getting anxious, saying "it's not really the last game we'll be back Tuesday, stop starring at Joe Mauer, you'll see him Tuesday, LET'S LEAVE!!"

I didn't want to leave.  As we left, I kept looking back grudgingly, draging my feet.  I felt horribly depressed.  There was magic on the field, in the air, and I wanted more of it.  And I'm not just talking about Joe Mauer.  It was everyone; all the former and current players interacting with each other, the joy, the photo shoots, the press interviews, the excitement...I wanted it.  I wanted to be apart of it.  Watching it was the closest I could get.  And since I wasn't the only one draging my feet about leaving, I know I can't be alone in that.

As I hung my head and was dragged against my will out of the Dome (though getting blown out did put a smile on my face, it always does) I realized I had felt exactly this same way before.

In college.

See, the Dome football game was usually the last game of the season (unless we got to the playoffs) so the circumstances are virtually identical to the game today.  We always won the Dome game, so everyone was excited and taking photos and doing interviews...and yet I knew that it was the last time I'd see this group of boys play and wouldn't have any more football until next season.

Super depressing, right?  I remember dragging my feet and hanging my head all the way out of the Dome those times, too. 

Now stay with me here, I'm going to try to tie all this together.

I love to be important. I love lights and cameras and action and the spotlight.  I think a lot of people out there feel the same way.  Maybe it's because I am an only child and used to having all the attention focused on me.  When I was little I threw a fit if I wasn't the center of attention.  I was a total attention whore.  Sometimes, I still am.  I like to stand in the middle of the room and scream "PAY ATTENTION TO ME!!!!"  Of course that's not all the time.  Lots of times I like to be left alone.  I HATE negative attention.  I don't handle it well.  I have a drive to do everything perfectly, all the time.  I hate screwing up.  I hate people mad at me.  I hate doing things wrong--even if it's something I've never done before and wouldn't know better!  As I got older I learned to be happy staying in the background.  Being a team player.  But that little monster inside still knaws at me, saying "you really want to be in that spotlight, don't you?  It should be yours!"

I guess I thrive on feeling important.  But I don't do a lot of things that make me feel important, at least not to large groups of people.  The only thing I have is dance, which is probably why I love it so much and want so badly to go professional.  Because I just don't do anything that cool right now.

Like wining a huge baseball game (or football).  So I feed off of their spotlight, wishing that somehow I was part of it.  Wishing that I was special to hundreds of strangers too :)  Thing is I always seem to be on the outside looking in. And if you were paying attention at all to the previous paragraphs, you know I HATE that feeling.  I want to be the center of it all.

I don't like to sound like I think the universe should revlove around me.  I'm not that person, because it doesn't.  It never does and it never will.  But there are times when I wish it did and probably think it should.  But yet when good things happen to me I never think I deserve them.  Hmm, hello mind f*%k.

But I think that most super fans of sports, celebrites, etc. are super fans because they wish they were that person.  They wish they were doing whatever that person/or persons were doing.  They just want to be special to.  And they want to hold onto that feeling as long as possible.  And when you're at a baseball game (this is just my example), you kinda feel like you helped, because you cheered and good willed them into winning.  Kinda like you're special to.  And you know that (usually) they appreciate the fact that you came to cheer them on.  Because you didn't have to care or pay money to watch them toss a ball around.  Oh, and you want them to think you're just as cool as you think they are. :)

Everyone is special to someone.  Usually their family or friends or what have you.  But they're your family/friends.  They have to think you're special.  What's cool is when 100,000,000 strangers think you're cool and they don't have to and you know deep down you're not really that special.

So here's to hoping that some stardust falls on us all.  Go do something great!

Until next time...