Spring Baseball

Nothing says Spring like going outside and tossing a baseball around. Wednesday I had one of my classes cancelled and since it was the first really nice day we've had this spring, four of us decided to play catch for thirty minutes. It was the highlight of my week. Class cancelled, sunshine, warmth, good friends, and America's pastime, what more could I ask for?

It takes a Thief

Have you seen that show on the Discovery Channel where they have a professional thief break into peoples' homes to show them what they need to do to make them more secure? It's always made me (Kim) feel a little uneasy to see how easy it is for professionals to break in, but I'm happy to say that Friday evening I discovered that our apartment is definitely safe. See, I accidentally locked myself out (we won't even go into that story)...As soon as I discovered I was locked out I went to the RLC's apartment (they're like RA's for grown ups) so they could let me in, but they were out. Then I went around and knocked on the doors of EVERYONE I knew in the building to see if I could use there phone to call security. They were all out too. Lucas was gone at the EFCA district conference. I wasn't even wearing shoes. We live on the third floor, it's a strong metal door. I was pretty much stuck. So I grabbed a book from our storage bin upstairs and sat in the hallway for an hour until a neighbor found me and offered to let me use her phone to call campus security. Then I waited another hour for them to get the message and come. Now I have to say I had heard some stories about the campus security guard taking his job a little too seriously, but I had no clue until I met him. He agreed to let me into the apartment, but he said he would need to see ID so that he could be sure I was who I said I was. Apparently I didn't look enough like the photo on my license (or barefoot women often spend two hours in the hallway reading the collected works of Flannery O'Connor just to break into the apartments of seminary students) because he asked me to tell him the address on the license. Now, it might sound stupid, but I could not remember, for the life of me, what our old address was. I took a guess, but it was instantly apparent it was WRONG. I began to panic (which made me appear less guilty, I'm sure). He finally asked me my birthdate (which I DID know) and let me off the hook...almost...He waited in the doorway until I put my ID away and then there was an awkward moment where we just stared at each other. He finally left...kind of...he actually waited in the hallway and listened through the door (to see if I was ransacking the apartment???). I watched out the window and it was almost 5 minutes before he left!!! On the upside, no thief will get into our apartment, on the down side, apparently, neither will I!!

Say What?

I have heard that some have requested a post from me (Kim). I apologize for being MIA for such a long time. The reason I have been gone (in large part) is work. The good news is that my work provides plenty of material for posts. One of the most difficult, but occasionally most funny, parts of my job is that so many of the people I work with have hearing issues. For the most part I have learned to adjust and I am now in the habit of reading things very loudly and slowly when I read aloud (a habit my Bible study has now adjusted to...). But there are still some moments when misunderstandings because of these hearing problems create interesting exchanges. Like the other day when I had expertly maneuvered a resident into his spot in the dining room, but tripped over another resident's wheelchair while trying to back away from the table. I picked myself up and laughed as I said, "My goodness! I am such a klutz!" The residents at the table all looked at me oddly and I wondered why. I soon found out when one of the residents loudly yelled, with an appalled look on her face, "You're such a slut?!" unfortunately no one in the dining room seemed to have a problem hearing HER. The residents aren't the only ones to have problems hearing however. One day I was in talking with this wonderful, sweet woman. We spent almost a half an hour talking about the Ash Wednesday Mass that morning and knitting (I've always wanted to learn, she's a fabulous knitter), and what wonderful grandchildren she has. The entire conversation had me convinced she was a quiet, modest woman when suddenly she paused, looked deeply into my eyes and said with quiet intensity, "You really have a nice piece of a--" I was dumbfounded. How did this woman know that phrase? Could she possibly even know what she had said or was she trying to say something different and that's how it came out? I was desperately searching for the proper response when she pointed to her forehead and whispered, "Does mine show as well as yours?" See, that morning, when the volunteer came around to give ashes to the residents and staff, she slipped a little when doing mine and I had a very dark cross that covered my entire forehead. The woman, seeing this, was telling me that I had a nice piece of ASH...I'm just a little hard of hearing.

Old Planner

Well I was pretty much burned out from last weekend, which is prety pathetic considering all I did was watch basketball with Joel for 20 some odd hours. A lot of it was spent at a Sports Bar in Boston, which was rocking on Thursday when Boston College won in double overtime, and it was rocking on Friday, St. Patty's Day. Just like last year, I rocked the first two days holding onto first place both days, and then Free Fallin' from there on. I am off to a district conference of the EFCA church in Connecticut until Saturday. So give Kim a call if you think about it. I just got out a leather briefcase that my parents got me before I graduated from college. I used it quite a bit when I was job hunting my last semester at college. But once I got my job at admissions, I really did not have much use for it because they gave us a laptop that had its own case. Well looking inside of it I found an old planner I used that last semester. Looking through it, I didn't have much planned, but what I did have were days marked off for March Madness, slots were also filled for swing club, improv, Rays with Reist, ultimate and many appointments at the Kappa house. Those were the days!

5 Sextillion to 1

Those are the odds of #16 seed Oral Roberts winning the NCAA Championship according to one noted oddsmaker. 5 Sextillion to 1!!! You might be asking yourself, "Self, what is a sextillion?" I have the answer. It is a trillion billion or another way to put it, it is a 1 followed by 21 zeros: 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000!!!! I think that is worthy of a $1 bet. Here is the very interesting article featuring these astronomical odds, which includes coaches' responses to hearing the odds: http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/columns/story?columnist=wojciechowski_gene&id=2367350. Remember that tonight is the play-in game: Hampton vs Monmouth. Enjoy.

March Madness

It's Selection Sunday! Most excellent. The group is back again at ESPN.com; "Where's Grandma?" is expecting a great turnout once again. Thurs and Fri, the opening rounds of the tournament, are two of my favorite days of the year. Thursday, I'm heading into Boston to watch the games with Joel from noon to midnight. Sounds like he knows of a great sports bar where we can watch all the games simultaneously. If anyone wants in the tournament that did not receive my e-mail, let me know and I'll send you the password. Good luck to all in selecting your picks!

Almost there!

I am pumped because my favorite sporting event of the year is almost upon us: March Madness! Excellent. I have been working a lot lately so that I can have plenty of time to watch all the games. Pray for Kim that she will still love me after I watch all this basketball. So I think I might be out of shape. I played 2.5 hours of basketball on Saturday with a bunch of guys from my building. We had a great time but I over-exerted myself because I was having too much fun. When I returned home I thought it was the end for me. Like an old man trying to return soup at a deli, my whole body was angry at me. Very angry. There wasn't any part that wasn't sore, but worst of all my stomach was killing me. So I took some Pebto and was trying to keep hydrated, but the pain was getting worse. I could find absolutely no body position which was comfortable. It got so bad that I ended up throwing up four times, which actually helped a lot. Felt much better afterwards. But my body is still getting the last laugh as I try to get out of bed the last two mornings. But I would do it all again. Well, maybe I would sit out the last game. Bring on the Madness!