East of the Mississippi and South of the Mason Dixon Line....

"Can we use this chair?" I asked two guys sitting a table over from us at Edley's BBQ.
Hmmm... the one with a little bit of scruff on his face and that curly chestnut hair is kinda cute. He looks kind of familiar. Ehh... You just think everyone looks familiar when you are in a familiar place. 
"Sure. Sure." said scruffy kind of pushing the chair away from the table and towards me with a smile.
"Great! Thanks!" I said dragging the chair way without so much as a backwards glance. "This should be enough right?" I asked Hans returning to the table.
"That's 12? Yeah..." He said counting up the people in our party. "That covers us all."
"We'll all just have to sit big until everyone else gets here." I said dropping my scarf and Laura's purse at opposite ends of the table and looking back over at Scruffy.
"I swear. That guy who gave us the chair looks so familiar to me. But I don't know why."
"Really? Maybe you know him?" said Laura. "Or maybe he just has one of those faces that looks familiar."
"Yeah... Maybe. I kinda think I actually know him though. I'm going to have to go ask. Maybe he went to college with me." I said leaning over to Laura.
"Go ask him!"
"Is that weird? Hey, you look familiar. Do we know each other?"
"I don't think it's weird. But I've never met a stranger so maybe I'm not a good judge of weird."
"Great, now I just look like a stalker because I keep staring." I said as we both laughed and turned back to our table.
"Alright! Let's go order. Brian and Amy can hold down the table." said Hans standing up and starting make his way over to the counter.

Smithfield, the duo we had gone to see perform at a showcase for their new record deal, happen to be friends with Laura and Hans and were sitting at the table when we returned.
I took a seat beside Trey, one part of the duo.
"You guys were really great tonight." I said after I had introduced myself.
"Thanks," he said. "We've had a lot of support along the way and some really great opportunities. I attribute most of our success to the amazing breakfast Hans made for us when we came out to audition originally."
"Yes. I'm sure it had nothing to do with hard work. Merely a solid breakfast."
"Were you at the show?" Jennifer, the other part of the duo asked, as she extended her hand across the table to me.
"Yes. Ya'll were great." I said realizing I get much more country when I'm in the south. "Do you have any of your songs on YouTube or anything? I would love to tell some of my friends about you guys."
"Not really... None of the videos we have are that great. Though I did see Laura taking a bunch of video tonight, so maybe one of those will work!" Trey said nudging Laura.
"Maybe!" She said with a smile.
"You should get some of your stuff out there. It is amazing the cult-like following that can develop around local artists. I know a duo from Eastern Kentucky who basically crowd sourced their early stuff and now they are blowing up. And they were successful largely because they had a fan base that was down right evangelical about them. Don't get me wrong, they are also extremely talented and hardworking! But a little fan support can go a long way!"

As we ate our dinners, casually played along with the Trivia game happening in the restaurant, and told funny childhood stories about building forts, wrecking on bikes, and tricking the little kids into always being it when we played tag, I couldn't shake the feeling that the guy we had gotten the extra chair from was someone I knew.
And because I couldn't shake the feeling I kept staring at him like a creeper, and making at least one additional trip to the bathroom that I didn't really need...

"Are you ready to go?" Laura asked an hour or so later.
"Sure. Just let me go ask that guy if he went to Transy." I said standing up. "I swear he looks like the guy who worked in the Beck Center." I said as I grabbed my purse.

"Excuse me?" I asked stopping by Scruffy's table. "Did you go to Transy?"
"Why yes I did, Ms. Crigger."
"I thought you looked so familiar when I borrowed that chair, but it took me awhile to place you. Why didn't you say something earlier? Your name is Blaine right?"
"Yeah. That's it." He said with a smile. "Do you live in Nashville now?"
"I don't. I'm here for work for a few days. I live in southern California. What are you doing now?"
"Well, I'm an attorney now. I actually just moved back to Nashville a few months ago. I was here for awhile after law school, then took a career opportunity that moved me about for a few years, but now I'm back." he said with smile. "I just couldn't stay away. I like this place too much."
I don't remember him being so chatty in college. But then again I didn't spend a lot of time, or any time actually, talking to him in college. He certainly wasn't this cute in college. Or maybe I just didn't pay attention...
"How long are you in town?" Blaine asked breaking me out of my daydream.
"I'm here for a few more days."
"Great! We should get a drink before you leave and catch up. Are you leaving now?" he asked as Laura walked up beside me.
"Yeah, we are. I have to work early in the morning." Stupid work! "But we should absolutely get a drink before I leave. That would be nice." I said.
"Are you on Linked In?" he asked.
"Yes..."
"Okay! Find me on there and we'll set something up."
Did I really just have someone tell me to find them on Linked In? That is a new one. 

"He's cute." said Laura as we walked to the car. "He went to college with you?"
"Yeah. He was a year behind me. Worked at the fitness center with my friend. But I'm pretty sure that conversation right there is the longest one we've ever had."
"That's funny."
"Yeah, I guess we'll see if we actually get together."

Back in my hotel room I washed my face and was crawling into bed just as my phone buzzed.
Blaine has added you as a contact! My Linked In app flashed briefly on the screen.
Wow, that was fast. I thought as I picked up my phone and opening the Linked In app to accept the contact request. Who uses Linked In instead of Facebook for social things? Kinda odd. Oh well! 
I clicked accept and another notice popped up.
Blaine has sent you a message.
"Mackenzie, it was great to see you tonight. Give me call and we'll grab a drink before you leave. Here's my number XXX-XXX-XXXX" the message read.

Copying the number into my contacts I quickly typed out a text.
"Hey Blaine! It was great to see you as well. I'm leaving Wednesday afternoon, but I'm free tomorrow night if that works for you."
His nearly instant reply back read, "Tomorrow is actually my birthday and I'm supposed to go to my friend's house for dinner. You're welcome to come."
"Well, I don't want to cramp your birthday style. I'm supposed to meet my friend Laura for dinner anyway."
"Well, I'm free right now...? But you probably have to work early tomorrow."
"I do. And I literally just got in bed."
"Well, why don't you give me a shout when your free tomorrow and maybe we can grab a late drink."
"Sounds goof."
"Good*"
"Incidentally, I thought you looked really cute tonight."
"Thanks. That is flattering." I really should have hung out with the KAs more in college. "Alright, I'm off to bed. Night night!"
"Sleep well."

The next day Blaine and I texted through out the day and made tentative plans to meet up after I had dinner with Laura and Hans if his party was still going on. When I called him at 9:30, the party was winding down, it was a work night after all. But he suggested grabbing a drink in his neighborhood, which was close to where Laura, Hans and I had dinner.

I met Blaine at his apartment and had a quick tour.
"Well, this is it! Would you like a drink?" he asked.
"Bourbon?"
"Of course."
"Then, certainly. I'm going to use your restroom quickly." I said as my heels clicked down the hardwood hallway.

"Thanks." I said as he handed me my bourbon.
"Let's go sit down." Blaine said nodding towards the living room and letting me lead the way.
"What are you doing over there?" He asked walking over and taking my hand, pulling me from the chair to the couch.
"I don't know... Sitting?" I asked as I sat down beside him on the couch.
"This is better." Blaine said as he put an arm around my shoulders.
"Yes." I said relaxing against his side. "So, what has been going on since your days at the Beck Center and Transy?"
"Oh you know... Law school. Working. Normal stuff. What about you?"
"Oh you know... moving around the world. Studying a profession I never thought people who pay me to actually do. Not normal stuff."
"Yeah, you weren't one for normal. I can remember in college, when you came around we were all on our best behavior."
"Ahhh, well you probably remember Super Serious Sorority President Crigger. I spent a year being terrified that something horrible was going to happen to someone and it was going to be my fault."
"Now it all makes sense."
"So why did you end up back in Nashville?" I asked taking a sip of bourbon. "Oh, Basil Hayden's. That's nice."
"Nashville is just a really easy place to live. It is the south, but not too slow. There is plenty going on. And I have a lot of friends here."
"Nashville is great. I would love to live here."
"You should move."
"Well, if you know of someone who is hiring a sustainability manager. Or you know someone who is independently wealthy and wants to pay me to hang out in Nashville, you let me know."
"Alright. I'll do that." He said leaning in and kissing me lightly on the lips.

Blaine and I continued to talk about college, post-college lives, work, good bourbon, perks of a southern accent in So-Cal.
"The one and only reason I don't want to leave California for the South is I'll no longer be the girl with the cute accent."
"I think you'll do just fine." Blaine said.
"Well, its getting late. My cab just texted they were close. I should go downstairs." I said looking at my phone.
"We should hang out again when your back East of the Mississippi. When will that be?"
"Probably not until December."
"Well, let me know. It was really fun spending time with you."
"I'll keep you posted." I said as we walked out the door.

With a kiss on the cheek and wave over my shoulder I climbed into the cab.
I have go to get back to the south!
Southern men just get it. 
Or at least they get me.

Intriguing

I met Nathaniel when he called and scheduled a meeting with me at work. During our initial meeting I sussed out pretty quickly that his company probably wasn't going to be able to help me much, and that was fine, because so was he. I make it a pretty firm rule to not date anyone with whom I'm doing business. He took the "thanks, but no thanks" like champ, and that isn't always the case. He even followed up with an email letting me know how the restaurant I had recommended turned out.

That email spawned about a week's worth of flirty emails back and forth and eventually a happy hour invite with the promise to call me to sort out the details. True to his word, he called me that night and after a fun and flirty phone call we settled on drinks at a bar I love in my old neighborhood in Santa Ana. It had somehow become a running joke about getting him to venture out of Laguna. 

The day of our happy hour date he texted to say he needed to cancel because he had to go to LA for work. I texted back, "That's fine and completely understandable. Another time."

Over the next week a few hap-hazard attempts were made to reschedule, but it never worked out and I kind of forgot about him.

A few weeks later, I ran into him at an event where I was serving as one of the panelists. I managed a quick wave, but was literally surrounded by people who wanted to talk to me (Now I know how Lady Gaga feels...), so I couldn't actually talk to him.

Oh well. 

That brief run-in spawned another round of flirty emails.
Here we go again. A lot of build up, and little to no follow through. I thought as I typed another coy line.

It was in one of these emails that I mentioned I was having people over for Memorial Day and he was welcomed to come.
He said thanks, but he would be in San Francisco most of the weekend.
So that was that.
Handsome.
Successful.
In my field, but not a direct competitor.
And, never gonna happen.
Dang it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I headed back to my house on Sunday of of Memorial Day Weekend my phone rang. Glancing down, not recognizing the number, but being concerned that a work project wasn't going as planned, (nothing was on this project) I answered.
"Hello, this is Mackenzie."
"Wow. Someone is formal." said Nate with a laugh.
"Oh! Hey! This isn't your usual number... I thought you were going to be a guy from work calling to ruin my day by telling me something awful had happened on a project."
"Nope. I'm calling from my personal phone. I am just getting back to the OC and I was going to see if the party plans were still going."
"They are indeed. I'm on my way home right now to start drinking. The party will probably kick off in a few hours."
"Great! I'll try to come by. I'm supposed to hang out with a few friends."
"Well, they are welcomed to comes as well. The more the merrier!" I said hanging up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Around 10:30 that night Nate and his three friends showed up on my doorstep to a party that was going full force. We had made our way in from the beach and we were just setting up drinking Jenga and eating the last of the open bag of marshmallows. I had nearly given up that he was coming, despite his text messages to the contrary, so when he walked in, I was pleasantly surprised.

We spent the rest of the evening congregated in the kitchen alternatively sitting on bar stools, leaning against cabinets and perching on counters as our friends slowly mixed.
It was nice. And it never occurred to me to brush my beach bonfire wind blown hair, or change out of my sandy leggings and v-necked shirt.

Eventually, the party thinned out with people claiming couches, calling cabs, or staggering to the local bars. I hugged Nate, and told him to give me a call and we'd hang out again.
But once again I didn't really know whether or not expect his call.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Imagine my surprise when he called the next day to say thanks for including him and his friends in the festivities and also to invite me over to his house in Laguna Beach to watch the new season of Arrested Development. At this point I still had a few hung over stragglers in my apartment, so I told him I'd have to let him know and went back to watching Arrested Development with Jesse.

Eventually, Jesse left and I called Nate to tell him I was free for the rest of the day if the offer was still open.
"Come on over! I'm just hanging out. I'll text you my address."
"Sounds good. See you soon." I said hanging up the phone and hopping in the shower.

I brushed on a little make up, half dried my hair so it had a nice wave to it, but didn't look like I was trying too hard, and slipped on a pair of skinny black jeans and a striped top.
Perfectly casual I thought, slipping on flip-slops and grabbing my leather jacket in case it was cold that evening.

"I know you don't like vodka, and that's pretty much all I have." said Nate after he'd given me a tour of his apartment.
"No worries, I brought a bottle of wine." I said pulling it out of my purse. "Do you have glasses."
"Yep." he said reaching to take the bottle from me and opening it. "They are just behind you. Can you grab them."
"Sure." I said opening the door to the cabinet.
"How far along in Arrested are you?"
"Pretty far... It is so much funnier now that I live here. I can't stop watching it!"
"Want to watch some?"
"Of course! That's why I'm here. It has nothing to do with the company." I said with a wink over my shoulder as I led the way into the living room.

Dang it!  I should have let him lead the way. Now I have to figure out where to sit. If I sit in the chair, that kind of says don't sit near me. But if I sit on the couch, maybe that says something too. Maybe this doesn't even matter and we really are just buddies who like the same TV shows...

"Ahhh... watching Mad Men?" I said sitting down on the couch.
"Yep. Nearly finished with the episode. Do you mind?" He said taking the chair.
"Nope. Not at all. I watched it this morning with the hung-over crowd. It's a good one."

Three episodes of Arrested Development later we decided it was time for dinner and walked down the street to a restaurant with a great outdoor patio overlooking the ocean.
"Let's walk down to that little view point first before we go in." Nate said motioning about 50 feet on down the sidewalk.
"Is that where you are going to kill me and toss my body into the ocean."
"I figured I'd let you eat first."
"That's nice of you." I said stepping into the gazebo set up at the view point. "Its so gorgeous here." I said as we took in the last of the sunset.
"Yeah. I try to walk down here and  to the boardwalk everyday. If I don't I feel like I'm missing something."
"I know what you mean. If I don't at least see the ocean everyday I feel like I'm not taking advantage of where I live!" I said smiling up at him.
"Yeah..." he said, trailing off as an Indian couple walked into the gazebo. "Ready to head to the restaurant?"
"Sure." I said following him up the short path to the restaurant patio.

We ordered drinks and food and settled in under the heaters with the waves crashing down below.
"Are you warm enough?" he asked reaching over and rubbing my arm.
"Oh yeah. I'm fine. My jacket is warm, despite the run in with Wolverine." I said raising my arm to show him the tears in the fabric that were the result of an unfortunate fight I had with a moving walk-way in Vegas.
"How did that happen?" Nate asked wide-eyed.
"It was mostly karma biting me in the bum." I said launching into a story that makes me sound evil.
"You are horrible." he said with a laugh. "I hope I'm never in a wheel chair and depending on you for help!"
"I know! I know! I told you the story makes me sound like a horrible human!" I wailed.

We talked on about our families, how we ended up doing what we are doing, cities we love, wedding toasts we have given, worst jobs we've had, and the time just flew by.

"Not that I wasn't before, but I am even more intrigued by you after hearing all your stories." Nate said as we waited for the check.
"That is one of the most flattering things I've ever been told." I said smiling. He's either extremely honest, or extremely smooth, but regardless, that is extremely flattering. 
"Let's go down to Nick's. They have a great Moscow Mule and I owe you one since I never met you for Happy Hour at the place in Santa Ana." He said standing up.
"Yes, you do! But I bet their Moscow Mule isn't as good as Chapter One's! A guy with a handlebar mustache makes it for there, and that makes all the difference!"

We headed down the boardwalk and kept chatting the whole way. There weren't any awkward pauses with us trying to fill the silence. It was easy, and fun.

Arriving at Nick's, Nate ordered us two Moscow Mules and we continued on the date that I wasn't initially sure was a date, but we pretty sure now it was since he bought my dinner.

An hour later we finished our Moscow Mules and decided to head back to his house since it was getting late and we both had to work the next day. Walking back along the virtually deserted boardwalk Nate pulled me to stop and turned to face me.

"I'm not sure this is the right place to do this, but... what the hell." he said putting one hand on my cheek and bending down to kiss me.
Yes... kissing me on the boardwalk in Laguna Beach is clearly the wrong place. If this is the wrong place, I'm not sure where the right place is? A canal in Venice? Under the Eiffel Tower? On the back of an elephant in India? Hmmmm... he's a pretty good kisser.

We continued to kiss on the boardwalk, his hands getting tangled in my hair, for a few more minutes. I could hear footsteps passing us on the boardwalk and a couple out walking their dog. It never occurred to me tone down our PDA, and I am not one for PDAs.

Eventually, we stopped kissing and continued our walk back to Nate's house hand in hand.
"Well... I'll see you later." I said digging in my purse for my car keys.
"Wait. You can't leave. We still have the final episode of Arrested Development to watch!"
"It's late... and you have to work early and so do I."
"It's one episode."
"I'm so sleepy though. I'll fall asleep."
"Come on. One more episode. You know you want to know what happens." Nate said pulling me gently toward the stairs.
"Ok. Fine. But if I fall asleep its your fault."

True to my word, I fell asleep and woke up to the Arrested Development theme song being played and my head resting on Nate's chest.
"I have to go home." I said softly to Nate who was also asleep.
"No you don't. Just sleep here." he muttered hugging me and kissing my forehead.
"I can't sleep here. I don't have pajamas. And I'm not sleeping in these jeans. They have like a million zippers." I said sitting up.
"OK... Fine... I"ll walk you out." Nate said standing up and stretching. "But you really can stay here. I'll sleep on the couch."
"That's a nice offer. But I need to go home." I said putting on my jacket.

Nate kissed me again as he opened my car door, and waved me out of his drive.
As I drove down PCH I wondered, Could I date him? Yes. I decided. I definitely could. Would he date me? Will this go anywhere? Or will it be like my other amazing date in Laguna that went no where fast?

I'm glad it wasn't personal. Part 2

So after an awkward dance of avoiding one another (at least on my end) at kickball on Monday I called my Mom to fill her in on the events of the previous evening.
"Mackenzie. If you want to talk to him. Talk to him." said my Mother, ever the cut-and-dry, voice of reason and practicality in my life.
"I know. I should just talk to him. But he has my phone number and he stopped talking to me. If he wanted to talk to me, he would." Even as I said it I knew I sounded like petulant child.
"Well, Mackenzie, you know how I feel about that nonsense. If you want to talk to him. Talk to him. And when you do, tell him I said hello." Some of you readers may remember Mom met Zach in Kentucky.
"I'm calling Courtney." I said hanging up and dialing my best friend's phone number.

"Well, I don't think he deserves a phone call from you after the way he acted." She said once hearing the story and learning that I was considering calling him in an attempt to clear the air.
"Yeah. Maybe not. But I don't want things to be weird every single time I see him."
"I know. But he seems like an idiot."
"You may be right. I'll sleep on it."

I woke up glad I hadn't called him, but still feeling like I wanted to reach out somehow.
I know! I'll send out a text, inviting people over for the 4th of July BBQ.

The text looked something like this:
"Hey guys! Having a BBQ/house party on the 4th. Feel free to come by. If you want something other than bourbon or tofu, bring it!"

And then I waited.

A few hours later I got this response from Zach
"Thanks! By the way who is this? (New phone)

Really... Who is this? Did you also lose you power of deductive reasoning when you lost your phone? Who else do you know out here that eats tofu and drinks bourbon? I'm not replying to this right now. This moron can wait. 

Finally, a few hours later, at the encouragement of my friend Dana, I text him back.
"It's Mackenzie."
"Heeeeeeey yo. How are you?" was his nearly instant text back.
"I'm really good! How are you?"
"I'm glad the work week is over. What makes you 'really' good. Saw your friend a 2-3 weeks ago."
I wasn't aware I needed a reason to be really good... And you saw my friend 2-3 weeks ago? YOU SAW ME TWO NIGHTS AGO YOU BIG IDIOT! Was he pretending not to see me, or did he really not see me... Boys are weirdos.
"Which friend?" I asked playing dumb since I already knew he had seen Allison two weeks ago at kickball. "And life is just going really great right now. Work is amazing. My family was out for a bit, I've had a steady stream of friends visiting."
"The one from AZ. Totally forgot her name. Awesome about the family coming out."
"OH! Allison. Yeah. She and I live together now."
"So it did work out? Where did you find a place?"
"Yep. We are on the peninsula." And you should already know that because my address was in the original text message!
"Jealous."
"Well you are welcome to visit any time. We have an extra parking space."
"Hahahaha. The parking space element humored me."
It humored you did it? Interesting choice of words... "Down here that is a real selling point."
"Well congrats on the new joint!"

As Zach and I continued to text each other Dana and I chatted about the whole weird situation.
"I couldn't not ask why he stopped calling." said Dana.
"I usually don't want to know. I'm usually glad when people disappear! I'm usually the one trying to vanish! I pretend that when I stop dating someone they cease to exist. The not knowing in this instant does drive me crazy though!"
"Ask him!"
"Ok! I'm doing it!"

"So... why did you stop calling me?" I texted.
"I can't point an exact finger on it. But work slammed me, and pretty much has since then. And I traveled alot, and I guess out of sight out of mind, as shitty as that sounds."
"Well, I'm glad it wasn't personal." I always kind of worried he had heard about the blog or something.
"No. Besides the cat. I was pushing my own boundaries with that."
WHAT! You mean to tell me that you stopped dating me because I had a cat! WTH! And every time you came over you played with Sprinkles and acted like you liked him. Oh good grief. This is ridiculous. 

But instead of flipping out I responded with this. Which I found hilarious.

Evidently, he didn't find it quite so humorous because he didn't respond.

Oh well. 

The next day, while lying on the beach with Dana, Kelsey, and Allison my phone buzzed.

"Well, well, well... guess who just text me asking if he can come over?"

"Zach?!" they all said.

"Yep."

"What are you going to say?" asked Kelsey.

"I'm going to tell him sure." I said typing out the message.

"Cool. Rolling deep?" He typed back.

"Fine." I text, assuming he meant he was bringing some friends over as well.

"Rolling deep? Who says that? Where are we? Compton?" asked Kelsey when I read his reply.

"Well I guess we can assume he's bringing friends... And on that note, I should probably shower." I said standing up and dusting the sand from my legs. "And maybe shave my legs..."

As the evening wore on and more friends congregated, Zach never showed. But I didn't really care. I was having fun with my friends. Eventually I got a text from him saying they'd gotten stuck at a bar about a mile from my house and apologizing. 

Dana texted back from my phone, "Fine." 

And for once, it really was fine. 

I'm sure I'll see him at kickball again, and maybe we'll chat and things won't be weird. 

Or maybe we'll chat and things will be super weird. Maybe we won't even chat at all. 

But regardless of what happens, it really will be fine. 

I'm glad it wasn't personal...

It seems most fitting that Zach, Mr.-I-would-be-honored-to-take-you-out-sometime, would rear his curly head this time of year.

Its right around a year ago now that I met him at a party. 

Then agreed to go on a date with him a full three weeks after he called to ask me out. 

I had such a good time on the date I initially didn't even really want to go on, that I proceeded him.
And only him. 

I fell HARD. People have jumped off buildings and had softer landings.

Then POOF! 

He vanished.

VAAAAN----ISHED.

I am an extremely proud person, so I never asked why. I assumed he'd met someone, (someone obviously not as great as me, because who is right?) but she clearly had more of what he wanted. 

Fine. Eff it. Whatevs. His loss.

I told myself all the things we all tell ourselves in these situations. But, I knew deep down that he could have called me and said "Hey. Wanna go out?" and I would have rearranged my whole life to make that date. 

Pathetic? 

Yes.

True?

Certainly. Pathetically true...

I wish I could have at  least pretended to myself I would have had the gumption to drop an "As if!" or agree to meet him and then stand him up.
Let's be real. That was not going to happen.

So how did our paths cross again after so many months of them not crossing?

The same way they crossed last summer.

Kickball.

Yes. I play kickball. Well, more accurately. I show up at the games and sometimes I don't panic when a ball comes flying at me.

Zach and I don't usually play in the same kickball league, but in the summer my league in Irvine closes and we go play in the Huntington Beach league, which is where his team plays. I knew this going into the summer season, but the HB league is HUGE. So the chances of us actually seeing one another were pretty slim. 

Or so I thought. 

As luck would have it, our teams are in the same division. 

And guess which teams played each other first...

YEP. 

Our teams.

I ended up missing the initial game because I was out of town at a conference. And I'm kinda sad about that. That could have created some serious shock value.

And I didn't want him to think I had skipped the game because we were playing his team. 

Nobody keeps Crigger from playing kickball!

Except the coach. When it isn't my turn to play.

So, for the second game of the season, or my first, I roll up to the field looking all sporty-cute. 

Or at least trying to. I'm not terribly sporty.

It was July 4th week so I have on my red Transylvania University sweatshirt and my blue shorts with white stars. These shorts are the smallest shorts on the planet. I have underwear that covers more.

But wearing ridiculous things to kickball is part of the fun. 

And I was in an attention seeking mood. 

When Allison and I walked up the field the very first person I see is Zack kicking a soccer ball around with one of his friends. 

This is the precise moment that I turn into extremely awkward Crigger. 

Does he see me? I hope so! No! I hope he doesn't! What am I going to say if talks to me? I need something prepared. Oh, geeze. He looked my way. Look away quick. Don't make eye contact! Did he see me staring? Is he looking at me? Should I wave? No, definitely not. Can he recognize me from over there? Well, I walked up with Allison, who talked to him last week, so if he saw her then he saw me and he must recognize me. Oh, my gosh. What am I going to do? He is still really cute. Why did he stop calling me? I should just walk over and say hello. NO. Don't do that! If he wanted to talk to you he would have called. He still has your number. Unless he deleted it. Or lost his phone. Stop it Crigger. Stop being a giant weirdo right now. Is he going to talk me? I hope! I'll snub him! No! I'll talk to him. Maybe he'll ask me out again. But do I want to go out with him? I shouldn't! He disappeared! Ugh... 

And this continued until I had to go find the field my team was playing on. 

Which was right beside the field his team was playing on. 

We were so close we were sharing an outfield.

And still neither of us made eye contact.

Everytime someone yelled "Crigger!" or "Kentucky" I simultaneously hoped he was looking for me and prayed he wasn't.
Our games ended, and as I milled around on the field I watched him and his friend head off.
Well, I'll probably see him at the bar...

As Allison, Mere and I stood in line to get into the bar, Zach and his friend walked up to survey the line. I kept my back to them, enthralled in conversation with the girls (yeah...) and assumed they had decided not to wait and headed to another bar.
Dang it. There goes that surprise run-in idea...

"Did you see who's in line?" asked Allison twirling me around.
"Oh geeze! Yes. I saw him." I hissed whirling back around.
"Saw who?" asked Mere.
"This guy I went out with a bunch and really liked. And he just disappeared." I said.
"OH! Who? Where is he?" Mere asked standing up on her tiptoes and looking around.

"See the guy back there in the electric blue hat and dark curly hair?" said Allison. Turns out Zach and his friend had decided to wait in the line after all.
"Is that him?" asked Mere, turning to face us.
I nodded.
"You can totally do better." She said emphatically.

We stood in the line a bit longer, but grew tired of waiting to get into a jam-packed bar.
"Wanna go to Beachfront?" asked Allison.
"Yeah. I'm tired of waiting." I said stepping out of line and making a move to walk down the street.
Hmmmm... looks like they did get tired of waiting after all. 

As we approached Beachfront, guess who is sitting at the end of the bar.
Yep.
Zach.
"I'm not walking in first." I said stepping back behind Allison and letting her lead the way into the bar.
I deliberately walked by Zach with my head turned toward Mere and saddled up at the opposite end of the bar with a few of our friends who'd decided they couldn't stand the line for Sharkeez either.
"Maker's and diet, and a beer." I told the bartender when we finally managed to get her attention.
Hmm... where is Zach? Not at the end of the bar, not behind me... Maybe he's outside. Maybe he saw me and split.
"Maker's and a beer?" said the bartender pulling me out of that I hope was stealthy observation and not psycho stalker mode.
"Oh yeah. Thanks!" I said turning around and handing her a $20. As I handed her the money my eyes rested on Zach's face. There he stood. Chin on his hand, leaning against the bar, staring straight at me across the bar.
Or at least he seemed to be staring at me. He could have been watching the baseball game for all I know. I got so flustered I tried to dash away from the bar without getting my change.

And awkward Crigger is back with a vengeance.

Instead of acting like an adult an walking across the bar and saying the very controversial, "Hello. How have you been?" I flirted with a guy from Wales, kissed no less than two of my lovely male friends on their cheeks, paraded in front of him to the bathroom, and stopped to talk to one of his teammates who is my friend on my way out of the bar.
All in the hopes that he would see me. And come over and talk to me.
As I stood talking to his teammate who responded with "I really like that guy!" as I told him the saga, Zach glanced our direction. In a moment of bravery I raised my hand in kind of a half wave, that he never saw because he turned his head.
Well... there is that. I guess I deserved that.
"Come take shots with us." Steve said motioning to his table.
"No thanks, we are headed out." I said with a wave.

The next day I called my sister to tell her the drama from the night before.
"Mac, why did you do that? You should have just talked to him."
"I know. But I didn't start this story by saying 'Hey! Let me tell you about a really great decision I made last night!' did I? No. I didn't. There is always next week...?"

And ironically, I didn't have to wait until next week to talk to Zach.
But that's a story for another day.

If I was a bettin' woman...

This tidbit picks up where the New Years Eve Jeb Saga ends. I was home for my annual Criggerpalooza Extravaganza and this particular section falls squarely in the middle.When this story starts we had returned home from a day of bourbon tasting around central Kentucky.         

                                   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Jeb arrived the party had dwindled to Bill, Shelly, and myself. 
But I didn't mind in the least. When he walked in carrying a 5th of bourbon and case of beer, Shelly and I were curled up on the coach gossiping about who knows what. 
Most likely him, would be my best guess. 

And as much as I just wanted to jump up and hug him, I held back.
Looking back, I'm not sure why.
Playing hard to get with someone who lives on the other side of the country seems unwise, as they are, in the truest since of the phrase, hard to get. But, then again we hadn't seen each other for four months and who knows what was going through his mind.

"Ladies!" He said with that easy smile of his. "Crigger, brought you some Bourbon, since I know you won't drink beer."
"Thanks! You sure do know your company."
"Where's Bill? In the kitchen?"
"BILL! BILL! WHERE ARE YOU? JEB IS HERE!" Shouted Shelley.
"I'm in the kitchen," came his calm reply.
"Alright. I'm gonna go fix myself a drink. Ladies?"
"Bourbon and diet." We said in unison.

"Crigger! Shelly! Are you guys going to sit in there all night or are we going to play some Drinking Jenga?" called Bill 20 minutes later.
"Get it set up. We'll be there in a minute." I called.
"We need refills!" demanded Shelly. A few minutes later Shelly and I strolled into the dining room where the boys had set up Jenga, or Dringa, as the version we were going to play is more commonly known. 
As I sat down beside Jeb, he said, “So how’s the Cali life treating you Crigger?”
“I can’t complain. I miss Kentucky and all my friends. But living by the beach doesn’t suck.” I said pulling a Dringa block.“Give three. Boring.” I said reading the block. “But, drink up, bitches.” I laughed.
“Ahhh… So that’s how it is gonna be.” said Shelly lifting her drink to her mouth. “Fine.”
“At least I didn’t give you all three!” I said indignantly.
“Fair.” Said Jeb.
“State fair.” Followed up Bill.
“What’s the best thing about California?” Asked Shelly.“The beach. Definitely, the beach.” I said emphatically.
“Not the guys in Trader Joe’s telling you that you have nice legs?” asked Jeb smiling slyly.
“Oh my gawd! You read my blog.” I said turning 12 shades of red. 
“Not religiously. But I’ve read a few of them. Drink one. Got off easy.” He said reading the block he had just drawn and taking a swig of beer.
“Oh no…” I said dropping my head to rest on my folded arms.
“No. It’s extremely entertaining. You are a good writer. And it’s funny, and probably flattering if you end up in it.”
“Your tune might change if you’re in it.”
“You can write about me. I don’t mind.”
“Well… I probably won’t, but if I do, I’ll try not to embarrass you. I still can’t believe you read it.”
“Read a passage from the romance novel.” Bill said referencing the romance novel that he had tailored for Shelly for an anniversary present. “Hand me the book, Crigger. Its on the shelf beside you.”
“Here you go.” I said passing the book to Bill. “I still can’t believe you read the blog.” I said turning in my seat to face Jeb.
“Honestly, Scott is the one who reads it religiously, and he just tells me when there is something I might want to know. But the guy at Trader Joes’s isn’t wrong about your legs. They are great.”
“Well... thanks.” I said blushing and sipping my bourbon. “I’ve been training for a half-marathon, so clearly that hasn’t hurt.”
“No, it has not.” Jeb said patting my knee under the table.
“Keep those hands where I can see them!” cautioned Shelly.
“Oh lord…” I muttered.
“And Jeb. Kiss Crigger.” 
She demanded.“What?!” I screeched. “You can’t made people do things like that!” 
“Yes, I can. I’m the boss.” She said turning her block to face me. 
It clearly said “Who’s the boss. You are!” 
“Dang it.” I said, not really meaning it, as I turned my cheek to Jeb. 

                                                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You sure clean up nice." I said walking into the living room, threading my earrings through my ears.
"Well, I try." said Jeb smoothing his tie. 
"Where are the Fraleys?"
"I've heard them banging around upstairs, and Bill yelled to make sure I was awake at one point. But I haven't actually seen either of them yet."
"You look really pretty. Your hair looks nice put up like that."
"Thanks! Wait until you see my hat. Its vintage." I said as I turned to head back into the guest bedroom to get my hat. I reappeared with my teal bird cage hat perched on my head.
"Only you." He said as I spun around to model my outfit.
"Its Criggerpalooza. Go big or don't go!" I said sitting down beside him on the couch.
"Very true." Jeb said nodding his head and smiling his easy smile.
"Well, you two look way more alert than I expected. Well, at least you do, Jeb. Crigger has her super powers of not getting hungover and needing only about 5 hours of sleep to function." Bill said as he came into the living room. "You were both wasted when I went to bed."
"What's for breakfast?" I asked.
"Eggs? Oatmeal? Cereal?" Asked Bill.
"Shot of bourbon?" I asked half joking.
"It's 9:30!" they said in unison.
"And a piece of toast. Geeze. And don't either of you act shocked. I've seen you both drinking way earlier than this. Bill, you're just jealous that you have to drive us to Keeneland and therefore you can't start drinking."
"Nah, I can have a shot. It will be at least 45 minutes before Shelly is ready."

                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you want to know how this story ends, I guess you'll have to buy the book :)

Are you Irish?

Standing at the bar, waiting for my bourbon, I feel a tap on my shoulder.
"Can I ask you a favor?"
"Umm... maybe. I don't know you, do I?" I responded skeptically.
"No, no. My name is Jeff. The favor is, I need you to be really mean to my friend."

I must have made a crazy I'm-not-mean-to-people-who-don't-deserve-it-face because he quickly followed it up with, "He lost a bet and he has to use a pick-up line I give him on a girl I pick out."
"Yeah... I'm not going to be mean to your friend."
"Please! It will be funny." He begged.
"No. I'm not going to be mean to him, even if he lost a bet."
"Come on! It will be funny!"
"Being mean to strangers isn't really how I get my kicks." I said trying to step away from the bar, but finding myself cornered between occupied chairs and the very insistent man-boy who was begging me to be mean to his friend.
"Please! Please!"
"No. I've got to get back to my friends anyway." I said pushing past him and making my way back to my friends.

A few minutes later a guy dressed in a Hawaiian shirt approached me.
Oh dear lawd... this must be the guy who lost the bet.
"Can I ask you a question?" he said
Yep. Gotta be him. I might as well play along.
"Sure."
"Are you Irish."
"No. Actually, I'm Scottish."
"That's weird because my penis is Dublin."
Oh. My. Gosh. Does this ever really work for anyone?
"That's disgusting. And the only reason I haven't just smacked your face and walked away is because I know your friend sent you over here."
"Yeah. He did."
"And in the future, if your friend gives you a terrible line and tells you to use it. Don't. Just tell the girl she should laugh and then you'll be on your way."
"Yeah... It was pretty bad. I'm Joshua, by the way."
"I'm Crigger."
"It's nice to meet you. Do you play kickball too?" He asked.
"I do, but not in this league." I said scanning the crowd looking for someone to rescue me.
"Oh really? Which league do you plan in?"
"Irvine." Come on Allison, Nathan, Lyla, Darrin, Heather... Someone. ANYONE!
"Oh! What? I play in Irvine! I've never seen you. I would remember." he said a little too excitedly.
"I'm not playing this season. I needed a break. John!" I said reaching out and putting my arm around his waist as he walked by. Maybe Joshua will think we are seeing each other. Everyone else does apparently! "Have you two met?"
"No."
"John, this is Joshua. Joshua, this is my friend John. He plays kickball too." I said gesturing between the two.
"Nice to meet you."
"How do you get yourself into these situations?" Whispered John.
"I'm too nice." I said out of the side of my mouth just as John got pulled away.
Don't leave me!!!

I ended up chatting with Joshua for a few more minutes and just as I was about to make my exit his friends informed him it was time to go, but he had to get my number before they would let him leave.
"Can I get your number and maybe we can talk more about Japan?"
Do I fake number this guy? I'll see him again most likely... He is in WAKA. And if I fake number him and he uses it, he'll know I fake numbered him. But if I don't fake number him and he calls, I'll have to talk to him again. Neither of these are great options. Eh, he's pretty hammered, he isn't going to remember talking to me. And if he does well, he probably wont call. 
"Sure." I heard myself saying.

"Thanks a lot guys." I said making my way outside to where my friends where clustered getting some air. "At least it wasn't as bad as when Allison forgot to call me when I was on a terrible date!"
"Ahhh Crigger. He seemed nice," chimed Heather.
"Well, let me test this pick up line on you and see if you still think he seems nice. Are you Irish?"

Scuba Don't

I've known Andy for awhile, so when he asked me to go scuba diving with him I wasn't worried that he was going to murder me and then feed me to a shark. After all, I've been to his office. I've met his friends. He's met my roommate and, incidentally, my boss one afternoon when he dropped a couch in my office. To hear my co-workers tell it he basically threw the couch into my office. And I believe that, since it was sitting on its side when I came back from a meeting.

Anyway...
On the off chance he did try to kill me and use me for shark bait, I was pretty sure I could out swim him.
A theory which was confirmed after spending a day scuba diving with him.

Arriving in Shaw's Cove just after noon I called Andy, "I'm here! I'm parked at Cliff and Brea."
"Hey, Criggs! Great! I'll be right up. I'll help you carry your stuff."
"Awesome! I'm just putting on my wetsuit."

Five minutes later Andy strolls up. "Why are you putting on your wetsuit now?"
"I don't want to carry it, AND everything else." I say straining to pull the knees pads up to where my knees actually are. "I hate wetsuits!" I grumble still struggling.
"Where is your regulator?" he asked picking up my BCD
"GAAAAH!" I say exasperatedly pulling wetsuit up over my thighs. "It should be in my bag. My fingers have gone numb. And the crotch is at my knees!"
"Jump up and down."
I dutifully jump a few times. "It's not working." I say like petulant child.
Andy just shakes his head and picks up my BCD, slinging on to his back. "Let me help you."
"I don't think you can."
"Just come here." he said waving me over. "Here we go!" he said grabbing hold of my wetsuit, lifting me off the ground in the process, and shaking me like you shake a feather duvet to redistribute the feathers.
"Put me down. This is ridiculous. It's good enough anyway." I said wiggling out of his grasp.

Andy picked up my tank and we head for the stairs leading down to the beach.
Ugghhh... coming up is going to be less than amazing. I think as I gaze down at the 50 steps that end in the sand.
"Geeze this is heavy." Andy says tapping the tank.
"Hey, at least you don't have to carry my wetsuit too." I said smiling.

Reaching the sand we make our way over to Rob, Andy's friend who has joined us for moral support (i.e. helping us hook and zip things we can't reach and alerting the authorities if we don't come back).
"Hey Rob! How's it going?"  I said with a wave. "Is that your doggie?"
"Hey! Pretty good. Yeah, this is Ellie." He said motioning to a daschund-esque dog now half hiding behind him. "She is kind of timid."
"Seems like it. I should have lined my wetsuit with bacon. Then she would love me."
"Alright Crigs. Let's get this show on the road." said Andy dropping my tank with a soft plop on the sand and picking up his wetsuit.
"I guess that means I need to get this thing the rest of the way on." I said stretching my arms down and  awkwardly trying to push my hands down the sleeves. "As soon as you get the least little bit sweaty these things are hard to get on!"
"Criggs... I think its on wrong side out."
"No it isn't." I said looking down.
Damn...
"You HAVE GOT to be kidding me!" I said stomping my foot.

Sure enough.
Wrong.
Side.
Out.

"How did I manage this?" I wonder half to myself and half out loud. "At this rate it will be tomorrow before we even get in the water!"
"You are ridiculous."
"Yes. Ridiculously amazing." I said attempting to peel the wetsuit from my clammy body.
"Oh. Yes." was Andy's sarcasm laced reply.
"I need to sit down. I'm getting winded." I said flopping down on the sand and kicking my feet up in the air. "Robert, pull this off me, will you? Andy, are you in your underwear?"
"Yes."
"What's wrong with swim trunks?"
"They don't fit inside a wetsuit."
"Oh..."

Fifteen minutes later I had somehow managed to get my wetsuit on a second time.
This time right side out.
Praise. The. Lord.
"Alright. Let's do this!" I said as I crouched to wiggling into my BCD and standing up slowly under the heavy weight.
"I would have helped you with that."
"No worries! I'm way tough. I do yoga." I said walking towards the water, swinging my flippers. "Coming?" I called over my shoulder.
"Right behind you."

I had waded waist deep into the water and turned back towards the shore to look for Andy as I put on my flippers. That's when I saw him rolling around in the surf.
Hmmmm... what a weird way to check your regulator. But to each his own. I thought as I leisurely back stroked a bit further out.

After five minutes and still no Andy I righted myself from my reclining position and scanned the surf. There was Andy, still flopping around like a beached whale.
Why is he rolling around over there. Maybe I should check on him? Nahh... After all the only people who drown in an inch of water are babies, right? I thought as I leaned back and continued to float around past the wave break.

Five more minutes pass, and Andy was still rolling around in the surf.
"Andy! What are you doing?"
"My tank came unhooked!" He yelled as he awkwardly tried to avoid getting hit in the face by an on-coming wave. "I can't get up."
"Unhook your BCD!" I yelled as I started to swim towards him. "Is this your flipper?" I asked snatching a fin from a wave and holding it in the air.
He nodded yes.
I think.
It was really hard to tell with the waves hitting him in the face.

Wading back through the surf, I reached Andy. Looking down, I said, "Why don't you take off your vest?"
"I was afraid it would wash away." he said unclipping his BCD and struggling free.
"I doubt that. It is pretty heavy. Here's your flipper." I said flinging it up the beach, and picking up the other side of Andy's vest so we could drag his tank back to shore. "You've lost almost all your air." I said turning the regulator so he could see it.
"Awesome." he grumbled stomping up the shore, dragging his tank like Linus dragging his blanket.

By now, Andy's Dad had arrived, and offered to run up to the dive shop at the top of the hill and rent him another tank, since his struggle in the murky 18 inch depths had really taken it out of him.
"Rent me some more goggles too." Andy said from where he was sprawled out on the sand, attempting to catch his breath after being battered by the surf.

When Andy's dad returned with his new tank and googles, we got suited up and back out into the water fairly quickly.
"Alright Criggs. Let's do this for real this time." he said putting in his regulator.
"Well, I consider it a success that you made it out past the wave break this time."
With that I put in my regulator and slowly started to sink.
After what felt like at least 5 minutes I looked up to see how far down I was.
Not even two feet? WTH? Why aren't I sinking? Hmmm... looks like Andy is having trouble sinking too... his eyes are still above the water. 

"What's the deal?" I asked breaking surface.
"I can't sink."
"Me neither. Maybe I didn't bring enough weights?"
"I'm just going to swim down."
"Ok. See you down there." I said as Andy pitched himself forward in an effort to swim down a few feet, making his weights fall out of the pockets of his new vest, which of course had a different weight belt.
I clapped my hands to try to get his attention, but nothing worked.
Well, I'll just get them when I get down there. If I ever get down there... Seriously how have I only sunk three feet. This is ridiculous. Forget  getting those weights, the current will have pushed me away from them before I ever get down there. 
Two more feet. 
Hmmmm... my ear hurts. My ears never hurt. Try holding your nose and blowing out. 
Nope.
Maybe moving my head back and forth and pulling on my ears will help. That's what Mom does on planes. 
Also, unsuccessful. 
Maybe it doesn't work in water?
Now I know why babies cry so much on planes. This really hurts.
This blows. 
And it is super cloudy. I can't see anything.
OOOO bright pink starfish. 
Okay, that made this unfortunate situation somewhat better. 
Hmmm... wonder where Andy is. I'm doing all scuba things wrong right now. I lost my buddy, I can't sink, my ears are messed up. I'll probably get nitrogen poisoning too. But I suspect I'm not deep enough for that to become too much of a concern at this point.
Seriously, where is Andy?
Oh, there are his feet. Is he back up on the surface?

"Hey! What are you doing up here?"
"Hey! There you are. I can't sink, I lost all my weight. I'm just going to chill out up here and wait on you."
"I saw you drop your weights and I tried to get you or them, but I couldn't. Sorry."
"I don't care. Its a rental. Sorry the diving is so bad."
"I saw a hug pink starfish, so all isn't lost. I'm going to go back down for a bit. I'll be back soon."

Seriously. Why can't I sink? The only thing I see are Andy's feet. I'm over this. 

"Let's go. I'm over it."
"That was quick." said Andy.

As we dragged ourselves back to shore, Rob walked out to meet us.
"How was it?"
"Not great. Andy lost all his weights, but I saw a giant pink starfish!"
"Well, there is that..."
"Rob, pull this wet suit off me." I said flopping down on a towel and stick my feet up in the air.
"Hang on. I'm unzipping Andy."
"Ugh. Okay." I said wiggling out of my suit down to my knees. "Andy, why are you standing around on
a public beach in your underwear?"
"I don't want to put on jeans. And that is all I brought."

Then from out of no where came the loudest laugh.
"BAAAAHAHAHAHHAAAA. That sucks dude." said some random dude walking down the beach, while he pointed at Andy.
"I know, right? F&^% me."
"ANDY! There is a child over there."
"I don't care. Well, I guess I shouldn't have said it so loud."
"Andy do you want my shorts? I'll wear your jeans." offered Rob.
"Yes."
"So now you are both going to be standing here in your underwear? Awesome. You do know other people can see you, right?"
"Yes. Mr. Chuckles is still over there laughing."



*Full disclosure-- This wasn't a date, but it was too funny not to share. Thanks Andy and Rob for being sports about making an appearance in the blog.

Yoga Girl

Yesterday I left work a bit later than I meant to, which meant I arrived at yoga right at 4:30.
I hate getting to yoga right on time. Yoga is the one place I am never late.
In fact I am usually early.
By a good 15 minutes.
People who have gone anywhere with me and are reading this blog probably now need to be revived, because my typical idea of early is 15 minutes late.

BUT...
Yoga mat real estate is like apartment real estate. You know you're going to have be near other people. It is unavoidable. BUT if you can swing it so they are only on one side, you're that much happier.
Getting there 15 minutes early assures me "my spot"; In the back, by the wall, preferably in the corner.
Don't worry Johnny, this Baby is happy in the corner. (And is also happy when it rains.)
In my spot I can do head stands and hand stands until my heart is content without worrying that I'll take someone out.
The extra 15 minutes allows me to adjust to the room temp, quiet my chatter-box brain, and prepare myself for 90 minutes of me time.
It is my favorite time of day.
I can walk into yoga being a ball of stress. Head aching. Shoulders hunched up like roided-out wrestler. To-do lists running through my brain like the dials on a slot machine.
But I step on that mat and I magically start...to...slow...d...o...w...n.
I walk out of yoga taller, more relaxed. Calm even. In that 90 minutes I become better version of myself.
I'm better able to breath through the difficult moments that will undoubtedly come later.

Usually.

Luckily, my Tuesday class has been starting a little late, so I was able to snag the last remaining spot on the back wall before class actually started. This meant crowding two other people, despite there being an open space in the middle of the room, but I HATE being in the center of the room.
The center of attention? I'm fine with that.
The center of the yoga room? No, thanks.
So scoot over fellow yogis, it's about to get cozy.

I rolled out my mat, typed a quick note to my room-mate, and settled onto my mat.
Ahhhhhhh. I thought dropping my chin to my chest, letting my hair fall into my face, widening across my collarbones, and dropping my shoulder blades.
This is going to be just what I need after my crazy work day. This is gonna feel great! I thought rolling my head to the left and right, and slowly blinking my eyes open. Whoa, the room has filled up in these last few moments, I said to myself surveying the space that had been empty only minutes before.

Oh. Em. Geee. I thought as the panic closed in like the Hulk's hand around my throat as I watched my ex-boyfriend drop a blanket beside his yoga mat.
What the heck is he doing here? Thank goodness I haven't put my hair up yet! I thought as I dropped my head, letting my hair fall forward and pretending to be entranced by my chipping fingernail polish.
Why is he coming to yoga here? He never went to yoga when we dated, despite the fact that he was a yoga teacher at one time! Hmmm... looks like he's put on some weight since I saw him last. I said to myself as peaked around my hair curtain. One point for Crigger!

Ugh!  Is there anyway I can get out of here without him seeing me? I could probably get up and act like I'm going to the bathroom and send someone in to get my mat and keys... And while one of the desk workers is collecting my belongings I can tell the others I have a restraining order against him so he can't come to yoga here. That is probably not the best course of action. I'll surely earn some bad karma that way. 

"Deep breath in. Long slow exhale out." said the teacher in what I can only assume was meant to be a soothing voice, but was grating on my nerves like a yippie barking dog.

UGH... seriously. I can hear him breathing from 5 feet away. I can hear him now telling me, "Take a deep breath and breath deeply. You need to calm down. You  need to relax." He was always telling me that garbage when I would get excited about something. It used to make soooooo annoyed. 
WHY IS HERE? 

And yes I do realize I just called breathing garbage. In a yoga class. But you know what I mean!

"Deep breath in. Long slow exhale out."

Leaving in general is a sure way to attract attention. He's like T-Rex. He'll see movement. Maybe I can blend in. And this is MY studio! I've been coming here since I moved over here and he has never once shown up in any of my regular classes! He's not running me out of here. He should leave. 

"Alright everyone. Let's come into downward dog."
Why do I still have on grandmother's ring. If he hasn't already seen me. He'll see the ring and know it's me! Its HUGE. And incredibly unique. And if we turn around and he sees the inside of my left foot, he'll see my tattoo. There is no escaping now.

"Come into plank pose."

Hmmmm, someone hasn't been doing much yoga lately. This is plank pose. Not dolphin. Get your butt out of the air. 

"Lower down. Up dog. Down dog." The instructor cued.
If there was a yoga contest in break ups, I would be winning. I would also be winning the who looks better contest and I am sweaty mess. BAM!

And the flow portion of class continued with me being sure to turn my head before he turned to look in my direction and with me never EVER looking in his direction.

"Alright. Let's see if everyone can find space on the wall and we'll work on hand stands."

Oh no! OH NO!  What if he ends up beside me. Then I'll have to talk to him. Please, please, please dear sweet baby Jesus, make me invisible. Or at leas let him go to the other side of the room. Preferably the side of the room where the black hole is, so he can fall in and disappear fooooorevvvvvver.

"Can I fit here?"
"Of course!" I said with a happy sigh scooting my mat over and making room for a pretty blonde lady.
Jay ended up in the corner near the door from what my peripheral vision told me.

A few minutes into our handstand practice the instructor approached me.
"You have a great handstand. I think you could do it away from the wall if you locked out your left arm."
Why, oh, why, did she have to ask about my crooked left arm! This is like the time when I took one of Jay's classes and he came over and turned my arm making me yell, "It doesn't bend that way!" At this point we'd been dating for at least 4 months and he knew about my wonky broken elbow. 
"That is actually as locked out as it gets." I said coming out of the handstand and positioning myself with my back to Jay, so I could talk to the teacher. "I had a riding accident where I shattered my elbow. And so now its kind wonky."
Why did I have to give her so much detail! If he didn't know I was here before, he sure does now! My voice and accent are so distinctive! Especially in a small space! Stupid! Stupid! Crigger!

By the time we made it through the back-bend segment of class I thought I had a solid escape plan mapped out. I figured I'd wait until everyone was lying down for shavasina and then I would split. But when the time came to cut and run, I couldn't do it. Largely because I have an extreme dislike for people who skip out of shavasina, and I've hear this particular teacher call people out for leaving.  No need to attract additional attention.

So after shavasina I threw on my sweater, turned my back to Jay, rolled up my mat, and was literally the first person out the door. I contemplated not even putting on my shoes, and instead just grabbing them and running out the door.
But I didn't.
I managed to walk calmly out the door before I broke into a sprint to my car, saving a silent "Thank you" to the car gods that I wasn't still driving GP, as that would certainly have given me away.

In my car I hunkered down and panickly dialed Preston's cell phone number.
"You'll never believe what just happened." I exclaimed breathlessly!

Sneaky Love. Lasting Love.

I have published this post before, but I'm sharing it again today in memory of my amazing Papaw. 
He was a wonderful grandfather, father, husband, brother, friend, and uncle. 
Who ever marries me has big shoes to grow into. 
I love you, Papaw. You are the best! 
                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Mamaw and Papaw have been married for eons.
Okay, well not eons.
Sixty-three years this November, to be exact.
That's more than double the whole time that I have been on this planet. 
I have to get married tomorrow and live to be 91 in order to be married to someone that long.
Good thing I am planning to live to be 113...

Aside from the lengthy time my grandparents have been joined in holy matrimony, what is truly remarkable is how in love they still are with one another. I would go so far as to call them obsessed with one another. My Mamaw will "run" into the grocery store to pick up something and my Papaw will say he is going to wait in the car. Before too long, my Papaw has wondered into Food City to see if my Mamaw needs any help.

A few years ago my Dad and Papaw were looking at old family pictures. My Dad picked up a picture of my Mamaw taken when she was slightly younger than she is today. It was taken right about the time she and my grandfather got married. 

My dad said, "Boy, Betty sure was awful pretty back then."
My Papaw looked my Dad square in the eye and said, "She is still awful pretty."

It isn't uncommon to walk into my grandparent's house and see them holding hands across the end table that sits between their recliners. If I had a quarter for every time I saw them steal a kiss as my Papaw empties the dishwasher and my Mamaw wipes down the kitchen counters I could make a hefty purchase. As a little girl I spent a lot of time at their house, nearly as much as at my own. I loved (and still do) being with them; they were, and still are, always having fun together. The fun is probably a little less exciting at 84 and 81, but it's still fun. 

My Mamaw is always offering advice about love. 
It is usually unsolicited-- but spot on. After being married for 63 years you figure it isn't just conjecture at this point. She actually knows what she is talking about. One of her recent gems of truth imparted during our last phone conversation was, "Love will just sneak up on you when you least expect it. That's what happened to me."

When my Mamaw met my Papaw, they were just Betty and James Orvil. Betty was actually on a date with another man. Betty and James kind of knew each other, both having grown up in a small farming community, but they weren't what one might call friendly. However, one afternoon James was driving past the school house and saw Betty getting on a pep bus to go watch a game and he was smitten. He followed the school bus to the game. Walked right up the bleachers to my Mamaw, who was sitting beside her date, and said, "Why don't you move his coat so I can sit beside you."

When my Papaw tells this story he just laughs. My Mamaw looks a little embarrassed, but haughty at the same time, like she is saying, "Well can you blame him? I'm a catch." 

Obviously, Betty moves the coat and James sits down beside her.

I asked my Papaw once what he would have done if the bus had driven somewhere really far away, and not just a neighboring school.

He said, "Well, I would have kept following it, hoping I didn't run out of gas I guess." 

The rest is history, or so I thought until recently. 

Not to long after James whisked Betty away from her pep bus boyfriend he asked her "to go, as they called it back then, steady."

"Well, I said yes," said Mamaw. "But I didn't really mean it. I just didn't want to hurt his feelings. So I had been pretending to go steady with him, but my heart wasn't really in it, until one day when I was in town and heard that his sister was trying to fix him up with one of her friends. Well, I just decided then and there that would most certainly not do. I realized then that I was in love. It had just sneaked right up on me. That will happen to you too, Babes."