Gnumoon's Stuff

Small-town Inevitability

I’m in my hometown for the holidays, and last night I ran into my old high school/college boyfriend. For the first time in six years, and too soon for my taste. I was just sitting there, enjoying a beverage with some friends, when the door opened and there he was- fake bullshit smile and all.

It ended badly all those years ago, and I have wished so many times that the past would remain there indefinitely. But this town just isn’t big enough for that.

I could write so much about the things that happened all those years ago- the fighting, the lying, the occasional good times and fun. But there isn’t any point in doing that. I don’t want to talk about blame or wasted years or ask how the hell someone could REALLY be that materialistic and possessive and shallow. (ok, that last one was a jab)

Seeing him again was surreal. It was like time reversed and spun around in a circle a few times and threw up on itself. I found myself looking at him over the chasm of years and through the smoke of the basement bar, and not having anything to say. How can you spend so much of your life with someone, and then find them to be a complete stranger? How can you consider marrying someone, and then realize that you do not know them at all? I wonder if he felt the same about me.

We didn’t speak much; it was all superficial “How’s your family” chatter, and he tried his hardest to pretend not to care or even act like he remembered. But I know that’s bullshit. His cockiness always was a defense mechanism. And obscure yet once-meaningful Janet Jackson songs don’t just up and play themselves on the jukebox.

I wasn’t even angry. I didn’t say all the things that I thought I would say, didn’t demand an apology for his careless handling of my adolescent heart, didn’t feel that surge of old emotions. All I really felt was annoyance at being thrust back into his condescending presence. All I wanted to do was protect the scars that remain from the blows he dealt all those years ago, wounds that time and love have finally sutured. Scar tissue is tough, and he made me tough- maybe I should’ve thanked him.

But it’s dredged up some long-buried stuff, to tell the truth. It has exhumed a decaying pile of baggage that I’ve been ignoring. Ghosts of unanswered questions rattle their chains, groaning for attention. Did he ever love me or did he just want to possess me? Did I make bad decisions because I was young and stupid or because I was in love and stupid? Can I ever truly forgive the emotional beatings I suffered at his hands and wish him well?

As Miss Janet herself would say, That's the way love goes. Indeed.

If you had come to Christmas at our place...

then you'd know what this was all about. Yo Ho Ho and a vat of eggnog rum.

Yippee-Kai-Yea, Merry Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the home
on a quest for that sweet ham, the Max he did roam.
The dog also never gave up on his path to eat up the kitty-
He waits by the door, a jowly welcoming committee.

The children were nestled all snug on the couch,
while shoeless John McClane at the Nakatomi Plaza did crouch.

I’d really write more of this little ditty, but I have a date with Die Hard, aka The Perfect Christmas Movie. Every year my family watches National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation and Die Hard. These are our traditions.

I’ve been offline for a few days, as my parents have no internet connection here at the homestead (so I wonder how I’m posting this, hmmmm?). I also have done a large amount of nothing for the past few days, so nothing has really happened worth blogging about. Well, the "alien insect birth" never occurred, so I guess that is noteworthy.

I hope that Christmas finds you all safe and comfy with family or loved ones. Drink an eggnog for your blogging buddies- I’ve never even met most of you, but I consider you all my friends. So a Merry Christmas to you all, and to all a good night!

Ps- Things will quickly become blogworthy if Devil Cat escapes his enclosure and Might Dog decides to have a furry orange snack. I’ll keep y’all posted.

But you didn't REALLY want to know that, did you?

I’m finally going to blog now. I’ve been meaning to for days, but I was too busy. The downside of winning a National Championship is that you’re too busy afterwards to enjoy it. Monday night I actually worked all damn night- I slept for about 2 hours on the office floor. Yuck. All I want for Christmas is to UNPLUG.

I’m still digesting the Championship bit, so I’ll blog all about it later.

Today I’ll be random.

Someone asked me, “Why does it say “Freak” in your picture? You seem fairly normal.” The reason that it says that is that my freakishness comes into play in the way my brain works- I just don’t see the world the way that normal people do. (If someone ever accuses you of this, it might be a compliment or an insult, so consider the source before you react)

Example: The other night a bug crawled across me in the night while I was sleeping. It grossed me out- I think I cursed its little buggy name for at least seven seconds before I fell back asleep. I don’t know where it was going or what it was planning to do when it got there- maybe it was just an insectoid traveling salesman making the long trek home for Christmas.

So I forgot all about it, until the next day when my back started itching. Just in one spot, and I’m sure it was due to the fact that the tag was cutting into my skin. But my IMMEDIATE thought was, “Oh my dear God, that thing laid an egg in my skin and the larvae has hatched and is eating its way out through the layers of my flesh. When the postulating boil finally vomits the worm out, it will stretch its alien head and shake my very lifeblood from its inky wings.“

Um, so yeah. I tend to see things differently. If the “parasitic insect birth” scenario really DOES occur, I’ll be sure to share that as well. But it’s looking at this point like it may just be a commonplace skin irritation. Which isn’t nearly as vomit-inducing.

National Champions!!!

We are the NATIONAL CHAMPS! Whoo-hoo! Unfortunately, Typepad has been funky for the past few days, so I couldn't post my pre-game thoughts yesterday, and I can't post pictures today. Booo. So, since I'm freaking ex-haus-ted today, I'll update all of this later. It's great ... to be ... a Mountaineer!

Busy for bloggin'- Thursday of NCAA Championship Week

Big day today…
NCAA luncheon for the teams- I somehow ended up sitting with the boss and the chancellor for that. Talk about feeling out of place…it was like that scene in Pretty Woman where Julia Roberts doesn’t know which damn fork to use.

Then I had to go shoot a team & Habitat for Humanity thing, but due to faulty directions I missed it completely and ended up smack-dab in the midst of the Chattanooga ghetto. In an Outback. Nice job, dumbass.

So I went shopping instead for a bit.

Then I shot a press conference. Our guys were so cute- they’re all really digging the national media attention. (I also was still dressed for the luncheon, so my four-inch heels were KILLING at this point. Yowza.)

Then it was an NCAA welcome reception. (Read: yet more food, booze, and big-timers big-timing each other)

Then we all went out and took over Big River. Love that place. It was all our folks- wall-to-wall Apps, including most of the undefeated 1995 team, the chancellor’s family, the AD’s family, and rotsa fans who have been waiting for this for a longass time.

We just got back- It’s 1:00 am and officially Gameday. Be safe, those of you coming from icy Boone. Bring your “A” cheering game. I must now sleep, lulled by the Sweet Magnolia dark.

Team cheer for the night:
To the roof! (to the roof!) To the walls! (to the walls!)
This ain’t nothing but an APPSTATE party! THAT’S ALL! THAT'S ALL!

Notes from 'Nooga

- This sign travels with the team when they go on the road. Everyone slaps it for good luck as they leave the locker room. I’ve always thought that was pretty cool.

- Kickinwitt and some guys went to a gay bar last night “by accident.” Sure, guys, whatevs.

- I got to put my SID hat back on today and corral players for the media interviews. That was always the part of being an SID that I really enjoyed- it sure wasn’t the stats. USA Today was even there…this is big-time and I think that is finally setting in with our staff and players.

- “Dogs Die in Hot Cars” is a terrible bandname. Good band, bad name.

- The excitement level here for this game is almost a physical thing. It’s like a hum running underneath everything else. I imagine it’s just like what Stephen King was describing in The Tommyknockers, but without all the tooth loss and alien invasions.

- Kickinwitt totally went to a gay bar.

- Someone left a barking dog in the hotel room a few doors down, and I think that everyone on the team was ready to practice their punting skills at about 6:00 am. I know that personally I could have nailed a 42-yarder, dead center, just to shut the damn thing up. Laces out, Dan!

- My high school boyfriend had a Chattanooga Lookouts baseball cap when we first started dating...I still think of him when I see the red Lookouts logo. Aren't associations like that strange?  (His nickname, once things went terribly wrong, was Phildo. We were proud of the creativity that went into that one.)

Currently Listening to: Ahead by a Century, by The Tragically Hip

Wish I had a chartreuse microbus instead of this boxcar

Mo-blogging now from Chattanooga, getting ready for the Big Game on Friday. We’re all staying at the Choo-Choo hotel, and damn if I can’t ever hear that song without hearing my uncle’s fake lyrics (Pardon me Roy, is that the dog that chewed your new shoes?) Some of the rooms here are built into old train cars, which is only a novelty if you’ve never actually slept on a train. I have slept on trains, and the experience isn’t something that I’d tack on an extra $50 a night to recreate.

But nothing has actually happened yet worth blogging about, since we pulled in about a half-hour ago. (Note to Neil Gaiman fans...I plan to check out the most important place in America on this trip. I was just there in March, though.)

So I’ll do something random instead. I was updating my iPod before the trip, and I ran across two songs from the fabulous Smokey and the Bandit soundtrack, namely Convoy and Westbound and Down. They went right onto the ‘pod, you’d better believe it, and here’s the story…

My entire family is artistically gifted, and I don’t mean my immediate family. I mean the entire famn damily- aunts, uncles, cousins, pets. So when we all get together (which is frequent) there is usually singing and dancing, and the occasional theater production may break out. Well, a few sections of the family are more chorale- and opera-inspired in their music choices, and often end up singing in latin or greek or some other dead language no one can understand. My immediate family is more into the visual arts (painting, photography, Sculpy), so these operatic masterpieces are generally a bit lost on us. We smile and nod and wish that everyone would just sing “Angel Band,” or that one that goes “Mama sang bass," or even "Great Green Globs of Greasy Grimy Gopher Guts." At least we can understand the words to those.

So one year during our en masse trip to the beach, there was a talent show. Factions got up and sang (and some danced) to chorale, to opera, to latin and/or greek, and some played classical guitar. My mother and brothers and I just sat in silence, nodding appreciatively, awaiting our turn. And when it came to us…we took to the makeshift stage and sang all of Convoy, a capella, in perfect harmony. It was as if the very seraphim were sporting trucker hats and "coming back" on CBs from heaven.

I suspect that it pissed off at least one person, as if we were mocking “real singing.” But it was so damn funny that we didn’t care. And now it is a staple- I can bet that when we decorate the tree this year that among the carols of “Silver Bells” and “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire,” we will also sing CW Macall’s classic hymn of peace and wall-to-wall bears, Convoy.” God bless us every one, Rubber-ducky.

Knitted zombies and an awesome 'possum

Thanks to Cecily for this…you know my love for all things zombie, and Shaun of the Dead in particular. Hmmm…I may have to watch Night of the Living Dead again soon. What a great movie.

In other linkage, this is the most disturbingly hilarious thing I have ever seen. Look how happy that little girl is!

I have a great theme for a blog post, but for the first time since I started this project, I’m just not comfortable putting it out there. It isn’t anything bad, really, and it is very interesting, but I just don’t know about actually writing it down. It isn’t that I’d keep it from anyone, but it’s more of a “we’ve had a few beers, so let me tell you this theory I have” conversation. I just wondered if I would ever run across a subject I wasn’t cool with discussing here, and now I have. Sigh
(…And if you lived in Lovill with us, then you know all about our “theories,” and you recall the chart.)

Well, work must be done in preparation for shoving off to the ‘Nooga later this evening. Catch ya later.

Currently Listening to: Cowboy Take Me Away, by the Dixie Chicks (aka “Cowboy, Take Marie Away” to those of us who lived on Woodpecker Lane with the worst roommate EVER.
Quote OTD: From Sin Wagon, by the Dcs
Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition
Need a little bit more of my 12-ounce nutrition

Tales of adventure from the sidelines

I’ve shot my last home game for the season. As usual, some of my shots were accidentally great, and some of them were unadulterated shit. Should be getting my new camera soon, so maybe that will take the “shitty” percentage down a bit. (For more shots I grabbed, click on the "View Gallery" tab in this link)

If you saw the game, then you know about the crazy rivalry between the two schools. I really think we would have won by a larger margin, but an injury took out our great senior QB in the first quarter (and through my lens it looked like a really dirty and on-purpose play by the defense). The backup came in and gave it all he had- despite a few fumbles and misses, I thought he gave a solid effort. (This photo of our QB leaning on his crutches and watching the game just breaks my heart.)

So we’re up 6, they are driving. I’m changing lenses and running behind the team, fuming that there is still enough time for them to score, when the crowd erupts into massive cheering. Knowing I’d never see the play in time, I just started shooting the bench, the fans, the coaches. Turns out we scooped up a fumble and ran it back 61 yards to the 1-yard line. It was chaos, and my glass was loving it. Click.

The cops were unable to stop the surging tide of fans, so they retreated to safety as the crowd swarmed onto the field. Both goalposts were down in a matter of seconds, and grown men were sobbing with joy and relief all around me. Click. click. click.

The goalposts headed out of the stadium, buoyed on a sea of black and gold clad revelers, and I followed, caught up in the pulsing throng. The happy mob lurched out of the stadium, intoxicated on victory and Gentleman Jack.   We processed down stadium drive, chanting and singing, and the carriers excitedly chucked the gold steel posts into the semi-frozen Duck Pond and then followed them into the frigid waters. We cheered. Impassioned streakers zoomed past, screaming and shriveled. Click.

The posts paraded all around campus- I heard that one was returned to the 50-yard line, and the other is MIA.  I don’t know how we’ll practice field goals this week, but the fact is that we’re in the National Championship game for the first time ever. As an alumna, employee, and fan, I couldn’t be prouder of this accomplishment. As a family, we’ve given a lot to this place, sometimes even more than we really could give, and yesterday they gave it back. Bring on ‘Nooga, bring back Richie, and bring it all back to the mountains!

(PS- I say "us" and "them" in lieu of using a lot of proper nouns, because we have some fans who  pretty much bitch about everything, and I'd like to fly underneath their radar for as long as possible. The Google would "out" me. My blog isn't associated with the school, and it isn't a public sports forum- it is a space for me to post my thoughts and opinions about anything I want without being harassed. Thanks for understanding! So, Go US!)

Currently Listening to: LOTR: The Return of the King, soundtrack - Howard Shore
From the, "Frickin' FINALLY, Julian" file: I give you the Trailer Park Boys Movie trailer.