Totally Awesome RBVs and going Balls Deep

Since I am being supes honest with you readers, I am going to admit to something else I am not good at. And this one may come as a surprise to some of you…well, probably none of you.

When I say, “I am so good at playing kickball,” I am lying. If I claim to ever be good at any sports that involve a ball, I am lying.

“My Plastic Surgeon doesn’t want me doing any activities where balls fly at my nose.” 

“Well there goes your social life.”

Just like most kiddos, my kickball experience started young. We played in gym class and at recess (between friendship bracelet sales and sticker trading) and I often took my usual spot in the outfield. FYI, that is where you go when you don’t really want to play, but have major FOMO if you don’t participate.  If you know what I looked like between the ages of 8-12, you will understand why I was never that into the game. Let’s just say, I wasn’t athletic.

Anyways, in the spring of 2007, my 3 friends and I were looking to branch out and meet new people. Obviously we were looking for something that involved booze and boys, and joining a kickball league seemed to fit both requirements quite nicely. We joined a team called “Totally Awesome” and played OTP after work on Thursdays, followed by boozing at American Pie, a bar with Christmas lights, Palm Trees and Karaoke. My type of establishment. Needless to say, we made friends and the playoffs. Success.

By the 2009/2010 we had all moved ITP and had enough friends for our own kickball team….barely. Being that we had some boys on our team, we thought we were due for a good season. We realized quickly that their athletic ability was highly questionable…that is if they even showed up for the games. Regardless, we formed a team called Red Balls and Vodka (RBV) and started boozing before/during the game, rather than after. This made for some great laughs, some not-so-great plays, and some not so happy refs. I believe we won 5 games between the 2 seasons.

Red Balls and Vodka Costume Contest

I think I joined another kickball league with the Jens somewhere in there – maybe in 2008? I attended 2 games and got some cool knee-socks. That’s about all I remember about that.

Back on track…When I moved to Chicago, I thought my kickball days were over. But sadly luckily, my friends here wanted to play on a league, and due to the FOMO, I accepted. And so began the team “Balls Deep.” One thing to note here: Balls Deep is serious. Sure, we would have some drinks during the games, but there are guys on our team who are actually athletic. There were girls on our team who were actually athletic. And more than that, everyone was actually competitive. Needless to say, no one seemed to complain when I would sit an inning out because I didn’t necessarily add much to the team.

Proof at my stellar athletic skills. See the ball? See my lack of forward motion? 

Although I never was very instrumental to the games, there were the few times I made some game-changing catches (no one was more surprised than me), but most of the time, I was making memories. If I were creating a highlight reel, here are some scenes that would make the cut:

• Kate missing the game-winning catch during the “Totally Awesome” playoffs due to excessive margarita intake, and seeing the disappointment in our new friends’ faces while we laughed hysterically.
• Drinking gross bloodys and Jell-O shots to give you some liquid athleticism.
• Hoger falling down the hill on the way to pee, breaking her tailbone, and letting it all go.
• Drawing the design for the Balls Deep t-shirts and the big debate – hair or no hair?  
• At-bat songs and team warm ups.
• Having crushes on “the blue team” and playing them in Flip Cup until we blacked out.
• Dressing up as Hot Dogs, only to come in second in the costume contest to the Prom Team.
• Mike’s wicked curve ball and 3^rd base coaching….and of course his frustration if he couldn’t strike out the other team.
• Watching the “Save a Horse” guys doing their choreographed karaoke at American Pie.   
• Threatening Kate, Maggie and Josh that the game is starting without them….all while sitting at the bar with Jen Zei 20 minutes late for the game myself.
• Waking up on Sunday mornings and playing a game still drunk.

You can tell from the above descriptions that there is a lot of alcohol intake during these games, so those are all the memories I can think of for now. But if you have any other gems that I am forgetting, leave a comment below! 

I'm So Much Cooler Online

Hi Friends! I have been a very bad blogger lately, which I am sure has resulted in some serious NotInMod withdrawals. I am sorry, and will contribute to all necessary therapy sessions.  But between Christmas shopping, Strep Throat, celebrating with the fam, a very contagious stomach flu, and a potential end of the world, I have been a little crazy the past few weeks. But I am back, and better than ever! Yay!

I mentioned in my last post that I often claim that I am really good at stuff that in reality, I am not very good at. For example, I do recall saying on more than one occasion that I was “really good at dating.”

News Flash: I am not. And looking back at every time I made that claim, I don’t think I was ever actually dating anyone, so clearly...not that good at it.  

Now, I am not at all embarrassed to say that I joined eHarmony in the Spring in hopes of finding a +1 that wasn’t Carreen (sorry, Rooms) and to meet that someone special. Plus, it actually sounded like fun: Meet all these great people! Try new things! Make new friends! Learn about yourself and others at the same time! The people in the commercials seemed so happy, plus that Natalie Cole song just really makes you want to get out there and find that Everlasting Love.

In filling out my eHarms survey, I thought about what was important to me. Someone who was sociable, funny, had good hygiene, not a racist, not a drug addict, and not rude. So pretty much I ruled out the bums in my alley, and some of the questionable people I have met at Tais ‘til 4.

I spent a few weeks filtering through my matches, perfecting my profile, and reading some of their super helpful and encouraging articles, like this gem. Eventually, I had my first date, and I was pumped to show off my stellar dating skills.

To start off the night, the guy was 15 minutes late. Now that might throw some people off, but since I was a self-proclaimed pro, I didn’t let that ruin my game….until about 3 minutes in when it became very evident that I had nothing to talk to this guy about. He was obsessed with his iPhone, liked R Kelley, and thought Costa Rica was “practically Mexico.” That’s when I realized it…I hate dating.

My eHarms dating experience continues to go downhill from there. A few tips for any single guys reading this blog (which I trust there are not any):

• Plan the date. No girl wants to ask herself on a date.
• Show up on time. Seriously, why must I even say this?
• Don’t act like you’re better than her.
• Put up pictures on your profile that look like you so that she knows who you are when you meet.
• Don’t have a unibrow.

I wish I was still tan. 

After a few months of terrible dates, I realized that I hated dating, and I hated dating terrible people. And so I was ready to give up on dating – it was the worst, and apparently I was really bad at it. *SHOCK – I am admitting I am bad at something*

Now most of you know where this story takes us…right when I was ready to give up, I got a call from what seemed like a decent guy and thought, “Ok, fine…one last date. But I am not giving up a weekend night for this dude.” We went out on a Monday and it all kind of came together. THIS is what dating is supposed to be like. He was smart, a planner, clean, witty, polite, respectful, funny, cute, drug-free…ok, I’ll stop.

But the thing is…he made me feel like suddenly I was good at dating. And I realized that dating is really easy when you are on a date with the right guy. Plus he ordered bacon-wrapped dates. Automatic second-date material. 

I'm a schizophrenic, and so am I.

There are many different faces to the Carrie you all know and (usually) love.

This is Ahoy Carrie. 

There is Comedian Carrie, who laughs at her own jokes before she gets them out (and repeats them louder if no one laughs the first time).

There is Freakishly Positive Carrie, who believes everything happens for a reason and tries to help you see the silver lining in any situation (admittedly, she can be pretty annoying). 

There is Justify Carrie, who thinks you should do things that make you happy and can justify any bad decision from skipping a work out, drinking on a weekday or buying those new jeans you can’t afford (her law of division is genius).

There is Family Carrie, who is best friends with her sisters no matter how mean they are to her (she has a mental block on the years 1993-1997 and a strange hatred for Michael Bolton).

There is Social ADD Carrie, who typically starts a conversation at a party and leaves before the thought is complete to move onto another party-goer (she is clearly an offspring of Bob Keller).

This is Gator Fan Carrie. 

There is OCD Carrie, who only really comes out if something on her shelves is not in perfect order (Carreen somehow stayed friends with her throughout many redecorating disasters).

There is People Pleasing Carrie, who tries to do little things to help her friends and family just to try and make everyone happy (she likes when people are happy – what is wrong with that?).

There is Party-Hosting Carrie, who is really just Social ADD, OCD and People Pleasing Carrie combined (she often gives up and just turns into Drunk Carrie).

There is Drunk Carrie, who loves Chorizo Nachos and Cheetos, takes too many Red Stagg and Rumpy shots, falls asleep at the bar and begs for more meatball subs (her eyes apparently roll from time to time).

There is Hungry Carrie, who quite frankly is just a bitch.

There is Lazy Carrie, who hates washing her hair on Sundays, loves napping, and is really good at ordering in food (see her prior nap post).

Which leads us to I am really good at *fill in the blank* Carrie. This has ranged from kickball, interviewing, funneling beer, doing the Cupid Shuffle, and dating.  If you know her, you know she is actually not good at any of these things (Stay tuned for future posts for proof on some of these claims).  

Who is your favorite "Carrie?" Which ones have I missed? 

Wait...obviously I have missed Narcissistic Carrie, who writes an entire blog about herself and asks people to post. But seriously, please post. 

Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?

I feel like now might be a good time to let you readers in on a little secret:

I like to use abbreviations when I talk. That’s right, I am a huge fan of the abbrevs. In efforts to not lose any of my followers to the fact that you literally can’t follow my posts, I decided to do a little 101 to some of my more commonly used abbrevs. 

Now clearly these aren’t all of them (DTR, BTW, IDK) but I will define for you throughout the posts if more come up. 

Jesse Mac poses a good question - "How do you sleep?"

Over the past 28 years, I have been working towards perfecting the art of napping. I practice on Sundays, and most recently during Bears games. The last 2 times the Bears won, I have slept through the game. I am not going to say I am the only one responsible for their wins…certainly Schmelter was in a bathroom somewhere adding luck to the team…but coincidence? Not likely. 

Not that I need the Bears as an excuse to nap – I can get a little shut eye pretty much anywhere and for multiple hours at a time. But when does a nap go from being A Brief Sleep to Damn Girl, Get up?!

Time to phone a friend. If you wished to remain anonymous…whoops.

 “I think that any time one sleeps at all during the day it's a nap. (The exception to this rule is people who work at night.) But I don't think there is a limit of time one sleeps to constitute said sleep as a nap. Fell asleep for 10 seconds at your desk? You just napped, my friend.” 

– Kate Storey, published New York Post author and fellow Crazy Aunt

 “I personally experience two types of naps: 

1) Power Nap - I perfected this in college. After a night of very little sleep, I would take a 15 - 20 minute nap; drink a DDP and be on my way like I had slept all night. This is probably my most regular nap esp post baby. 

2) Drooler - My intentions are normally to just take a power nap, but I end up sleeping for 2-3 hours. Drool is not required, but very likely in my case.” 

– Rachel Hubbard, owner of this amazing bracelet company and one of the coolest moms I know 

“Very easy:

1) Duration: 30 minutes to 2.5 hours.  Anything more is sleeping, anything less is nodding off. 

2) Blanket: Required, unless in a vehicle

3) Pillow: Not necessary

4) Alcohol: No (then it's passing out)

5) Time of day: Before 6:45 AM to 9:30 PM” 

– Mike Gutmacher, Reigning World Champion Napper (and rapper – have you heard this guy??)

 “To me, a nap is anytime you are asleep between the hours of 9 AM and 7 PM, lasting longer than 20 minutes. AKA something I'm never able to do no matter how hard I try! FML! #insomniasucks” 

– Melissa Hoger, Michigan's Favorite Southern Belle

“A nap, to me, is any time you fall to sleep (or intentional go to sleep) outside of the standard night time sleeping hours.  It can be for any amount of time.  Literally 30 seconds of eyes closed sleeping constitutes a nap to me.”

– Jordan Miklos, Facebook's newest face...with an even newer wardrobe I assure

“Well my naps have changed over the years. When I first started law school, a nap generally meant I was hungover, which meant I had a half eaten bacon, egg and cheese biscuit on my night stand and Twlight on repeat in my DVD player. Now my naps generally last approximately 1-2 hours. There is no TV on, I don't wear clothes, and one or two cats is sleeping on my face...I do not nap on my couch. Only yours.” 

– Melissa Cohen, author of Queen of Cohabitation

"A nap is between 10 and 20 minutes.  0 - 10 minutes is resting your eyes.  Over 20 minutes is sleeping." 

– Chad Lovegren, World's Shortest Napper 

I napped on Sunday for only 20 minutes and the Bears lost. Time to get back to my multi-hour nappy roots.