Striding Along On The Path Of Least Resistance

Well, it’s all over now.  In my latest effort to battle all my basic instincts, I have shaved my head.  Let me tell you, I absolutely hate, hate, hate it.  It’s just not a good look for me.  It really accentuates the rest of my facial features and reminds me how unattractive I really am.  So why do it?  I wanted to grow out my hair.  Of course you did.  In this game of self sabotage, it was a necessary sacrifice.  Apparently, the hair on the top of my head is thinner than I remember.  In terms of appearance, I wasn’t done many favors by the powers that be but a full head of hair for life was supposed to be one of them.  No male on either side of my family suffers from baldness, so I’ll be pretty ticked if this recent discovery is a precursor to the classic horseshoe pattern. 

I had announced my hair plans at work a couple days prior to the trimming and a female co-worker told me not to do it.  Upon seeing me for the first time post-buzz, she again voiced her displeasure.  Ha!  If I lived my life according to what women wanted…well, I’d probably be a lot further along.  Anyway, given my disdain for the look, I envision a lot of ball cap days for me in the foreseeable future.  It is probably worth mentioning that the haircut didn’t cost me a nickel; a co-worker offered to do it pro bono.  Accepting his offer probably underscores my frugality but it made it a lot easier to go through with the decision.  He actually did a pretty good job too.

Maybe changing things up with my hairstyle will somehow shift the axis of my universe.  (That's the idea, right?). I sure feel like I could use a change.  I’m struggling to find the joy in the events that have defined me for so long.  Bowling is a prime example.  I just haven’t been having a lot of fun this season.  My game is a mess and I have about zero confidence in my abilities right now.  I’ve never been a big-time strike stringer but I prided myself on solid spare shooting that always kept my scores respectable.  That facet of my game has been erratic at times this year and the huge scores have been far and few between.  It just feels like the ceiling is really low for me right now.  Whenever I feel like I’m throwing it good, I look up at the end of the night and it’s a series in the high 500s or very low 600s. The irony in all of this is that my 2 teams have done quite well this year.  My mixed league team has already wrapped up 1^st place and my men’s league team will be bowling for 1^st tomorrow in a winner-take-all single game match.  

Given the team nature of the sport of bowling, you can once again see why I consistently describe myself as a selfish person.  I should be happy that we’re doing so well.  I’m certainly not unhappy, but I have to wonder if I would be happier shooting 250 in a losing effort than shooting 150 and being victorious.  In my mixed league, I actually have the top average and highest single game score.  My average is basically the same as it was last year so there isn’t any discernible regression.  Still, I very much feel like a big fish in a small pond in that league.  If you saw some of the bowlers, you'd know my feeling is justified.  That is my “fun” league though and there are certainly good times.  My biggest complaint is that despite only being an every other weekend commitment, there’s a consistent problem with no-shows.  It’s really hard to get the competitive juices flowing when you’re bowling against no one.  Anyway, I just need to pull it together for 1 more week for my men’s league; then I can forget about bowling for a while.  Who knows?  Maybe I’ll catch lightning in a bottle.

Softball season is coming up.  I can’t say I have the same drive to play this year for that sport either.  Fantasy sports are in danger of being another supposed "passion" you can cross off the list.  I won $1100 in a fantasy baseball league last year, but I was partners with my uncle.  I’ve convinced myself that it’s mostly due to the effort he put into it.  Cumulatively, across all my teams, it was the worst fantasy baseball season I’ve endured since I began playing the game.  If I have another year like last... Maybe I need to take my “do the opposite” approach to another level and completely re-invent myself.  Is it time for some new hobbies?  Time to scrap everything I once knew?  No more sports?  No more watching the same Simpsons or Seinfeld episode for the 100^th time?  My life may not be on the decline but it’s definitely reached a plateau. 

If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you’ve known my relationship situation.  You now know how disenchanted I’ve become with several of my various pastimes.  I can’t even point to my work as a shining star in an otherwise dark space.  I’m stuck in an uninspiring job with mediocre pay and no real immediate prospects of advancement.  I’ve been there for over 6 years so maybe I’m getting close to having a 7-year itch that needs to be scratched.  Disclaimer for any co-workers for who may be reading this:  My commitment and focus to my job has never wavered and it never will.  I believe in earning the money I get paid.  I’m also grateful to have a stable job in this struggling economy. I guess it’s just not what I planned to be doing or earning at this stage in my life. 

At a company address a few weeks back, our CEO mentioned various job openings at satellite offices such as Phoenix and Tampa.  We were encouraged to look into those openings if that’s something that would interest us.  I haven’t researched what the jobs would entail yet but I’ve fantasized about applying for one of them.  I’d be jumping into the situation head-first.  It’s exactly the opposite of what I would do. Eh, who I am kidding?  I’m not going to do a damn thing about it.  It’s the same reason I’m going play softball again this summer, play the next fantasy sport in season, and eventually get around to starting that Simpsons bracket and documenting my favorite episodes.  It’s what I’ve always done.   If you’re looking for the sure bet, run to your nearest bookie and take the over on me initiating any change.  Finding a woman, getting a house, changing jobs?  Take your pick.  Heck, take all of them.  Applied has called my bluff so far and it’s worked pretty well for them.

I guess I’m just looking for that someone or something to bring some new inspiration into my life, to make me a better man, and allow me to see an incline up ahead instead of just flat ground.  I just don’t see her or it walking through that door anytime soon.  I could convince myself that person or thing just isn’t in this area (believe me, I’ve tried) and run off to Phoenix or Tampa.  But wouldn’t I just be running from the real problem?  Knowing absolutely nobody in either of those areas would all but ensure some long, lonely nights.  At least I’ve got my family and a handful of acquaintances around here to keep me sane and upbeat most of the time. 

Maybe deep down I’m not ready to give up on this area just yet though.  I did recently sign up for Match.com.  However, it would be folly to think I’m putting any real effort into it.  I only signed up for the free version, which means I cannot take any significant action.   I really just wanted to use it as another avenue to lure a whole new audience of women to this blog.  Crap, the gig’s up.  Yeah, I didn’t think this plan out.  I review my daily matches and save the ones that look like they have potential.  I’m still too cheap to enhance my membership and, more importantly, I’m not in a position where I can go after a girl with any conviction.  There’s several reasons which you may know by heart but a large reason is because I think every conversation will eventually wind up with me saying the following:  Let’s go back to my place…It’s currently a single room but I think you’ll enjoy the Little League trophies and wall stickers of the 1992 Dream Team…Oh, my parents down the hall?...Don’t worry about them; they’re cool. Speaking of houses, I guess I have some “progress” to report, at least what passes for progress in my world.  I did visit 3 open houses over the weekend.  Nothing promising though.  Sorry for the melodramatic entry everybody.  At least I’ve been able to stay away from topics like politics, religion, and her thus far.

And just because I feel like it, here’s my current “it” song playing on repeat.  I like to fool myself into thinking that’s me.  The truth is she’d never frequent any of my preferred drinking establishments.

Getting By With A Little Help From Mr. Jefferson

I think the universe is trying to tell me something. At first I thought it was mere coincidence but then I started keeping track.  This phenomenon may date back further but I can only accurately prove its existence based on the last 2 times I’ve gone out.  Now that I’m paying attention, we will see how long the streak can actually last.  So what the heck am I talking about?  The universe is determined to put as much distance between me and women as possible.  I suppose I should elaborate lest you think this is another blog about being jaded in love.  You know, the kind that precedes me getting a cat and listening to Augustana’s “Boston” on a regular loop. 

 

On contraire, this particular development has evolved into a game I’ve grown fond of playing.  There is a law of truth that seemingly never fails whenever I go out to a bar or restaurant.  In a room full of attractive female waitresses, I will invariably draw the solitary waiter at the establishment.  Trust me; he’s the ONLY one there.  I make it a point to scan the room for every other server working the floor (the aforementioned game).  I should also note that if the employment staff is largely split between male and female, it seems like I still get a guy more often than not.  However, given the probability of being served by a dude in that case, it’s perhaps a little unlucky but nothing out of the ordinary.

But always getting a guy when he’s the only one?  Now that’s downright uncanny. It’s like the place collectively feels my presence approaching and makes sure to reserve a table specifically in the guy’s sector.  Or maybe the hostess sees me at the door, makes a split-second assessment of my quality, shoots her fellow female servers an “I got your back” glance, and proceeds to pawn me off to that single guy server.  The moral of this story for my guy friends is that you might want to think twice before throwing an invite my way, if that sort of thing matters to you at all.  Just this very instant, as I finished that preceding sentence, I had a business idea:  I should start bottling my own pheromones and selling them to the gay male community.  I’ve even got the intro to my sappy infomercial:  “Tired of women hitting on you?  Wish they’d just keep their distance?  Have we got the product for you…” 

Sorry for the diversion; back to the matter at hand.  I have nothing against guy servers.  Many of them are competent workers who I tip fairly based on their service.  It’s just that when you go to certain places, an attractive server is part of the expected experience.  However, I will say that when a woman is serving me food and/or drinks, her looks have nothing to do with the tip she is going to receive.  The way I see it, there’s more than enough guys willing to plop down a few extra bucks as a tip simply because their server won the genetic lottery, or at least cashed in it.  I figure those guys got me covered, right?  I really don’t know why I should care so much about who is waiting on me.  It’s not like I’m going to flirt with the girl or try to ask her out or anything.  I don’t need to be another in a long line of suitors. I know better than that.  Or do I?  That brings me to the main point of this blog.

I looked in the mirror recently and I didn’t like what I saw, figuratively speaking (OK, maybe literally too, but that’s not important here).  I have a lot of regrets about things I’ve never done.  These things were not done because my gut and my “rules” convinced me of reasons not to do them.  My life is nowhere close to what I imagined it would be 10 years ago.  Seriously.  I feel lost.  It wasn’t supposed to be this way, I tell you!  I’ve let my instincts guide me thus far in life and I came to the same epiphany that George Costanza once did:  my instincts are shit.  Every inclination I’ve ever had on anything important has been wrong.  Therein lays the beauty of this realization though.  The powers that be have afforded me the opportunity to make the right choice every time.  I merely need to do the opposite of whatever feels right.  “Feels” is a critical word in this newfound approach.  When a choice is obvious and I know what it should be, I’m not going to cast aside all logic and reasoning.  That would be downright foolish.  I’ve made a lot of good choices in life when I have the facts at my disposal and don’t have to rely on my instincts.  Doing the opposite is only going to come into play when an actual decision – a best guess, if you will – needs to be made.  

So I’ve taken some baby steps to unveil this new approach and it’s had mixed results.  Channeling my inner George, I decided to engage our server at Buffalo Wild Wings a few weeks back.  I wanted to get some field test results.  With my friends at the table also listening in, the conversation went something like this:

Me:  Hypothetically speaking, what would you think of a guy who introduced himself as a 29 year-old nerd who still lives at home?  Would he have any chance with you?

BWW Gal:  (Completely willing to play along because she’s probably assuming I was talking about one of my cohorts and trying to prove a point) I’d say no thank you.  I could understand living at home if you were still in school or fresh out of college still looking for a job.  But 29?  That’s not very appealing.

Me:  But what if all of his other qualities were really awesome?

BWW Gal:  I still can’t see it happening.

Me:  So that’s pretty much a deal breaker for you?

BWW Gal:  Yeah, pretty much.  (Starting to fear that she’s going to be on the receiving end of the worst attempt at asking someone out in history)  So what’s this all about?

Justin (my friend):  Have you ever seen Seinfeld?

BWW Gal:  No.

Me:  Sorry to waste your time.  Thank you for your input.

So it didn’t go exactly as I had hoped in but I wasn’t bummed.  I truthfully had no intention of asking that particular girl out; she was cute but whoever was serving us would have been subject to my experiment.  I also have to acknowledge that I did not wholly commit myself to the bit.  There will be future opportunities to really put the theory into practice. 

Those in the service industry come across a lot of people due to the nature of their job.  A guy like me really needs something to distinguish himself.  Several years back, I was tipped off to a clever idea that can be utilized to help reach this end.  Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the $2 bill.   Yes, these are still in circulation; you just hardly ever see them.  It’s a darn shame.  I find the $2 bill to be the most underused and underappreciated form of U.S. currency still out there.  How many times have you needed to make a small purchase that costs a dollar and change?  You don’t have the change because carrying change is just annoying.  Or maybe you want to leave a couple bucks in tip but don’t have any singles.  So you think to yourself, I don’t want to break up this $5, $10, or $20 bill.  If only there was some magical bill that could cover this expenditure?  Then again, maybe this is largely a non-issue for most of you because you don’t pay in cash.  I guess I’m a fossil in that regard but that’s a story for another day.  (I’ve never had any formal writing training or classes but I think that’s called foreshadowing or something.) 

I like to keep a stash of $2 bills at home and bust them out when I feel like trying to make an impression.  It’s actually been a long time since I’ve done this or even had the urge to do it, but maybe it’s time to get back in the game and start doling out Jeffersons to servers.  They typically have one of three reactions, which tell me if they’re worth pursuing:

1. They look confused and question the validity of my “fake” currency (too dumb).
2. They do not acknowledge the unique gesture whatsoever (too bitchy…probably).
3. They laugh and associate me with their grandfather because he’s the last person to give them a $2 bill (close enough, I can work with that).

Despite the suboptimal results of the BWW field test, I still believe doing the opposite has some promise as a theory because I have in fact had some success recently doing just that.  A guy at work asked if I would join a pool to pick UFC fights.  I agreed to join despite the notable handicap of having never watched an entire UFC fight and being able to count the number of fighters I know on 2 hands.  So why join?  When it comes to fantasy sports, pools, or general predictions, I’m a whore.  I’ll get in on as much action as possible (see: my fantasy golf team).  It was a free pool and I didn’t really care that much about it, so I spent very little time and no research making my picks.  I messed around with some strategies for the first couple rounds.  For example, one time I chose whichever person had the more “common sounding” name.  Not surprisingly, none of these strategies hit the mark. 

Then, at my request, the pool organizer included head shots and records of each fighter squaring off.  Armed with some additional albeit limited information, I finally started using my instincts to pick who I thought would win.  The results were comically bad.  You couldn’t even pick that many losers in a row if you tried.  I was running out of ideas and then it hit me.  Whenever a fight involved people I had never heard of, which were most of them, I let my instincts go to work.  I then promptly submitted the exact opposite for my picks.  These results were startling.  By the end of the season, I had ascended all the way to 2^nd place.  A new season has started and we’re one event in.  Yours truly is sitting in 1^st with a decent lead.  This approach has apparently morphed from fluke into a viable strategy.  One of the other guys in the pool has subsequently asked me for “my secret”. 

What can I say?  My instinct really is a gift, even if it comes from the Island of Misfit Toys.  (I think I could listen to any story as long as it’s narrated by Burl Ives.)  So, as long I can get my mind past the debilitating fact that my hunches are always wrong, I just might have some success in life with this new approach.  It might involve living a bit of a lie but no one else needs to know I’m a fraud.  Come to think of it, I wonder if my powers are transferrable.  Have a tough decision you need to make?  You might want to enlist my services.  Now there’s a real business idea.

I Need To Work On My Lying

I was faced with a tough question recently and I’d like the court of public opinion to make a ruling on my response.  After bowling in my mixed league a couple weeks ago, I was asked by a female if I would ever date a woman with kids.  This wasn’t just a random person though; it was a team member.  If you’re familiar with my girl criteria, you know how I should have responded to that.  Of course, it’s one thing to type your true feelings in a faceless blog read by very few and another thing entirely to actually say it when the question is sprung on you, especially when you know the one asking the question has a couple kids of her own. 

Now I know this particular female wasn’t asking me specifically for a date.  The question must have been weighing on her mind though.   Are my children an impediment to dating?  Surely, some other dude must have used them as an excuse not to date her or as a convenient reason to end a relationship that had existed.  This was my cue to paint him as a solitary jerk and restore her faith in men everywhere.  Without the fear of any personal commitment, it should have been very easy to tell her what I’m sure she wanted to hear.  But my criteria!  It isn’t a list I casually compiled; I had definitely given it some thought.  Someone with a kid is on a whole other level of maturity than I am.  We’re just at very different points in our lives.  Moreover, one of the characteristics I want people to appreciate about me is my honesty.  Saying yes to her question would make me a hypocrite.  I had to make a split-second decision but I ultimately decided to just tell the truth.  I told her no and prayed there wasn’t a follow-up asking me to elaborate. 

Much to my relief, it did not put any strain on our friendship but I need to know if that was a dick move.  Is this one of those situations where a lie is actually the preferable response? And while I’m asking questions, let’s take even another step back.  Is my rule completely bogus or should I be entitled to make that a dating criterion of mine?  I know the obvious arguments you can make against the rule.  It’s possible I might be missing out on someone great for me.  It’s possible the kid would grow on me once I got to know him/her.  I don’t deny such possibilities exist.  I’m just trying to make the best possible decision based on what I know, or think I know, about myself.  I never said my logic was logical.

I get the feeling like I’m going to take a lot of flak for this, especially from the female community.  And yet, if I were to tell you that I also don’t want any part of dating a smoker, you’d say that’s perfectly within my right.  Maybe the difference is that it’s unfair to hold something against a person that they can’t change.  You can’t ditch your kid but you can kick that smoking habit with a little desire and fortitude.  Truthfully, I’m probably doing that person a favor by not getting involved.  People with kids deserve someone with a much bigger heart than mine.

Feel free to add your comments below, whatever your take may be.  Seriously, I’m willing to see the error of my ways. 

2013 Fantasy Baseball Draft Analysis

Heads up:  If you don't play fantasy baseball or don't like reading about other people's drafts, this entry will not interest you at all.  However, this is a blog about me and fantasy sports are a big part of who I am.  Think Dungeons & Dragons but for jocks.  It's articles like this that afford me the rare opportunity to combine two loves (writing and sports) together.

Still with me?  This entry is a breakdown of a team I recently drafted for the upcoming baseball season.  I should inform you that this a roto league.  The hitting categories are: Runs, Hits, HRs, RBIs, SBs, BBs, Ks and AVG.  The pitching categories are: Wins, Losses, ERA, WHIP, Quality Starts, Ks and Net Saves (Saves - Blown Saves).  Feel free to use the link below for the entire draft results and some frame of reference.  The top portion of the document has the round-by-round results.  Underneath it are the teams with the players inserted in their starting positions.  Welcome back, baseball!

Draft Board

Rd 1 (Votto): After the big 3, I felt like it was pretty wide open.  Arguments could be made for or against every other potential first round pick.  I liked Cano and Kemp the next best but of course they got taken.  I felt like it was a little early for an ace.  The choice came down between Votto and Pujols.  I’ve never owned either but Votto’s numbers last year despite missing a 1/3 of the season were off the hook.

Rd 2 (Bautista):  This choice was either between Joey Bats or Kershaw.  As it turns out, I made the right choice in gambling I could still get an ace.  In a post-steroid era where power seems to be dwindling, the likely AL HR champ was too much to pass up.  Oh, and you might have noticed that Toronto made some off-season improvements.

Rd 3 (Pedroia): I made this pick with a lot of trepidation.  Pedroia’s ADP suggests it was a legitimate pick but middle infielders have a propensity of getting hurt.  I’ve had enough Kinsler shares in my other leagues the past couple years so Pedroia was the preferred choice for me at the thin 2B position.  I really should’ve went for a pitcher in the absence of any slam dunk hitter, but I got lucky.

Rd 4 (Hamels):  As I’ve alluded to, this was a no doubter for me.  Hamels was the last true ace in my eyes and I was doing the happy dance when he came back around to me.  Gun to my head, I’d have picked Price if both were there, but I can definitely make the case for this guy as the 4^th best SP after the Verlander/Kershaw/Strasburg holy triumvirate.

Rd 5 (Craig):  I’m probably a little higher on Craig than most but I was still sweating it out hoping to get him in this round.  I wasn’t targeting anybody else.  Sure, he’s a bit of an injury concern and I don’t foresee a full season.  Still, 140 games will be worth it because all this guy has ever done is rake whenever he got the chance to play.  The Cardinals finally unleashed him last year.  That triple-position eligibility is handy too.

Rd 6 (Zobrist):  This felt like a little bit of a reach at the time and I may regret not taking a better #2 starter like Greinke or Sabathia.  Again, I was a sucker for the multi-position eligibility, especially considering one of those spots was SS.  An SS with a 15/15 floor and respectable numbers across the board will play nicely no matter how you slice it.

Rd 7 (V. Martinez):  This was a case where participating in a draft the week before tipped me off to something valuable.  Yes, V-Mart has still retained C eligibility in Yahoo (he didn’t in my CBS league).  I missed the boat on my other league but I wasn’t about to here.  He’s essentially Joe Mauer but a couple rounds cheaper. Sacrifice a little average and gain a little pop.  As a fantasy owner, you have to appreciate when your catcher isn’t really a catcher.  That means he’s probably playing more games and isn’t going to get wore down by the demands of the most taxing position.  The brilliance of this pick may be somewhat mitigated by the number of quality catching options that could be had late but after reviewing the draft, I didn’t see anyone picked after this pick that I would have rather had.

Rd 8 (Kimbrel):  Wait, you’re telling me I was the first to take a closer?  That sort of thing is reserved for Wick (well, that and taking a kicker).  Never pay for saves.  We’ve all heard that, right?  Actually, I think this pick is fairly defensible.  His ADP says he could have gone a couple rounds earlier.  He’s the hands down best player at his position.  You mostly just care about saves with your closer, but the K’s and ratios are dreamy with this guy.  At this point, I still needed a 3B and CF but I didn’t see any options that jumped out at me.  The same can be said for the SPs, and I did need a #2.  I strongly considered taking Peavy here but as you’ll see, it’s a good thing I waited.

Rd 9 (Peavy): OK, I couldn’t wait any longer on securing a 2^nd starter.  Believe it or not, this was not a homer pick.  Peavy simply was the highest guy on my board.  There’s obvious injury concern here and I’d still like to acquire a better #2.

Rd 10 (Gallardo):  Clearly, I was still feeling the reservations of my Peavy pick so I wanted to back it up with another quality arm.  I’ve never owned Gallardo because I’ve never liked him.  I still don’t really; his WHIP is just too high for my liking.  That being said, he’s a 200 K guy who always flirts with 20 wins.  I wanted Freeman but Ken snatched him and I don’t have any regrets with this pick.

Rd 11 (H Ramirez):  I felt like we’d finally gotten to the point where we were past picking guys that couldn’t be dropped. Sure, there were still good options out there.  I’ll even concede that this was too early for a guy missing 2 months.  If he wasn’t an SS, Hanley would not have even been a consideration.  I wonder how much longer he would have lasted.  If he comes back and does what he’s capable of, it will be a nice boost in the 2^nd half. Plus I already had Zobrist so it’s not like I will be scraping by with Alexei Ramirez.

Rd 12 (Willingham):  Based on last year’s numbers alone, this guy should have been picked much higher.  Would you believe he had 35 bombs and 110 ribbies?  Yeah, that’s real.  The Hammer dropped because people don’t see a repeat.  I don’t see one either but I don’t think it will be much of a drop-off.  The power has always been there and I think it makes for a nice trading chip.

Rd 13 (Grilli):  I was disappointed to see both Gomez (CF) and Lawrie (3B) go before I got to make this pick because I still needed both spots.  Now I’m not sure if I set off a bit of a closer run (eh, I’ll take some credit) but 3 of them did go right after this pick.  Grilli is unproven but Hanrahan proved the Pirates can provide ample opportunities. He has the K numbers you like to see in a closer.  I don’t love this pick but it also didn’t cause me to miss out on anyone.

Rd 14 (Betancourt): Seeing guys like Montero and Perez go after this pick put a damper on my V-Mart joy.  I had briefly considered each as a backup C but felt like I didn’t need one with V-Mart expected to play so much.  I’ve had some misfortune with closers the last few seasons but I still try to hoard them as much as possible.  I just usually wait a little later.  For some reason, I decided to go with a guy I felt better about. Betancourt has earned his way into my circle of trust after last year. 

Rd 15 (Crisp):  This was a pretty boring pick.  Crisp is usually a guy that doesn’t get drafted but finds his way onto a team at some point during the year.  I really liked my offense but I still needed a CF and I needed a lot of speed.  Crisp fit both needs.  In the back of my mind, I remember the revolving door I had in LF last year and I feel like CF could be that problem point for me this year.  I should have went for a 3B with upside right here but again I lucked out.

Rd 16 (I. Davis):  I chose to ignore 3B again because Davis stood out to me as a great value pick.  The .227 average is downright ugly but the 32 HRs are not something easily found at this stage in the game.  Most projections I’ve seen have Ike’s average climbing above .250.  Averages just aren’t what they used to be and if those projections hold, he’s more than worthy of a utility spot. My power is elite so this was just a case of adding to a strength and positioning myself for a trade.

Rd 17 (Middlebrooks):  By this time, I was just praying that either Middlebrooks or Moustakas would be left when it got to me.  Both are young 3Bs with a great amount of upside.  I actually like Moustakas more but I wanted both and felt like Middlebrooks was more likely to be selected.  His BB/K ratio is raises a few flags but the power numbers and average in limited time last year have me hopeful.

Rd 18 (Moustakas): Giggity.  My other 3B target did in fact go undrafted.  Moose has been absolutely killing the ball this spring.  I know that means little but it’s better than sucking.  He projects as a 30 HR guy eventually (although maybe not this year) and his minor league track record suggests the average can rise. Between him and Middlebrooks, I’m just hoping I hit on one of them and have my 3B.

Rd 19 (Fiers):  With just 3 starters and all my hitting spots filled, it was time to refocus on pitchers.  Fortunately, I pride myself on being able to go real deep in pitching.  It always amazes me the kind of pitchers you see get taken at the end of drafts.  That’s why I felt confident in my ability to get good values here and beyond.  Actually, I was disappointed to see some of my targets for a #4 (Estrada, Lynn, Harvey) jump off the board but Fiers was another guy on my list.  I love the K potential and upside with a good offense supporting him.  I regretted this pick after I made it though because Fiers may not have even been drafted.  Update:  I’ve since dropped him when Milwaukee announced he would be working out of the bullpen.  Then they decided to change their minds a few hours later.  Jerks!  Nonetheless, I wanted some shares of Julio Teheran to start the year (I didn’t have him in any other leagues so I was antsy). It’s almost a wash between those 2 in my eyes.

Rd 20 (Reddick):  Another value pick who can play 2 OF positions.  Let’s call him the Ike Davis of the outfield.  A 30+ HR guy with a sketchy average.  There’s always plenty of speed you can grab off the waiver wire (see my recent Juan Pierre add) but not so much with power. Reddick makes a nice backup and a pick I was glad to make.

Rd 21 (Cobb):  There was no doubt I was taking an SP here, so it was just a matter of the best one left.  To me, this was Cobb.  He had a strong finish to last year and has posted some very tidy numbers this spring.  He’s made some sleeper lists.  He could be a nice spot starter or he could be off my team in a few weeks.  I guess it’s that way with any pitchers you take this late.  The only trait they should have is upside and Cobb has it.

Rd 22 (Griffin):  Most of what I said about Cobb above can be repeated here so I’ll save some words.

Rd 23 (Veras):  The penultimate round and there’s a still closer to be had?  Sign me up.  Sure, this guy could do more harm than good but he also might save 25 games with numbers that won’t kill me.  There’s only a finite number of those closing jobs available so this was an easy pick.

Rd 24 (Ortiz):  Big Papi is closer to 40 than 30 and he’s probably going to miss the first month of the season.  And yet there were at least a couple groans from people who didn’t realize he was still available when I called his name.  (Not gonna lie, that felt good.)  In an injury-shortened 2012, he put up great (not just good) numbers.  I can’t expect a complete renaissance but he’s a last round pick after all.  I don’t expect much of anything.  He’s got the upside of a utility player and that’s all I can ask.

Overall thoughts:  I was pretty pleased with how the draft turned out.  There were only a couple times where I got “burned” by having a player snaked away from me.  It’s virtually impossible to get through a whole draft where that’s the case; you just hope to limit the number.  I took some gambles hoping that players would fall to me (specifically with an ace SP and those upstart 3Bs) and they did.  I was able to acquire many of the players I was targeting in the early part of the draft.  There were a couple times I wish I had just grabbed the best player available instead of trying to fill out the whole lineup.  However, I think I corrected that line of thinking in the middle part of the draft as evidenced by my waiting on a CF and 3B.  I think my offense is going to be dynamite.  I should even fare well in the “hidden” categories like walks and strikeouts.  Speed will be an issue but there are a lot of one-trick ponies in FA who can fill that void.  My biggest concern is the lack of a more stable #2 SP, which would allow everyone else to slide down a spot in the rotation.  My closing should (fingers crossed) be a position of relative strength but the volatility of the position has me sleeping with one eye open. It was a good piece of a work in my opinion.  I’ll give myself an A minus.

Dealing With Patty & Selma

My driver’s license needed to be renewed so I grudgingly went to the Bradley DMV a couple weeks ago. That particular DMV is relatively small and the workers have a noted reputation of being grouchy.  I think the latter probably stems from the former because they’re ALWAYS busy.  Seriously, is anybody ever happy there?  Your energy level drains as soon as you walk through the door.  Unless you need a simple sticker renewal, you just know it’s at least a half hour of your life that you’re never going to get back. 

I was spoiled by the last time my license came up for renewal.  Thanks to my squeaky clean driving record, I was able to renew my license without leaving the house; they send you a sticker to affix to the back of your license.  I initially enjoyed what this meant.  I’m generally averse to change so it meant I could show my yellowing, faded license and high school mug to every bouncer and beer-dispensing barkeep or waitress I came across.  Recently, however, my annoyance with the license outgrew its nostalgic value.  Apparently the sticker extension concept was a foreign one to many of these same bouncers, barkeeps, and waitresses.  I eventually got in the habit of automatically adding “flip it over” when handing my license to these people for review.  Side note: now 30, it’s becoming more of a compliment and less of an insult that people don’t believe I’m 21.  Perhaps I will age gracefully.  

Anyway, I was ready for a new license so I was almost relieved when I was required to visit a DMV in person and take a vision test. I chose the Bradley location strictly from a convenience standpoint.  At least I was sure to come across some interesting characters.  As I sat doing my crossword next to some guy in an oversized cowboy hat, I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between the DMV employee and the woman taking a vision test – presumably the same test I would be subject to.  Actually, I only heard one side one of it.  Just insert some indiscernible mumbling for the half I didn’t hear.

Employee: (mildly annoyed) Ma’am, I’m going to need you to speak up.

Employee: (more annoyed) There’s no E on that line.

Employee: (sounding quite angry) Which line are you reading? Please read line 5!

Employee: (now just exasperated) OK, we’re done here.  Ma’am, you will not be allowed to drive at night or within a half hour of dawn and dusk.

If it wasn’t for the fact that she was a little older and English didn’t seem to be her first language, I would have been a little worried about the test.  I passed without a problem.  

As I’m waiting in yet another line to pay my renewal fee, I saw another elderly lady who appeared to be heading out for a road test.  While still waiting in the same line, the woman and the DMV employee return.  As I think to myself, “well that wasn’t very long”, I fear the worst for this woman’s chances of being allowed back on the road.  I don’t know how it turned out, but it didn’t seem favorable for the woman given the body language I observed from a distance.  I couldn’t dwell on her misfortune though.  I had to focus and make sure my new mug shot didn’t become a source of embarrassment over the next several years (thankfully it’s not).  Fun fact: over a decade later and the height/weight listed on my license didn’t need to change.  Until next time, Patty & Selma.

Crushes, Part 5

This is the previously unreleased (and unabridged) part 5 of the "Crushes" series I completed a while back.  Many of my devoted readers have already requested a copy and there's nothing new here to read if you have.  (Don't worry, I'm working on something new right now too.) If you have not read this and feel like wasting several minutes (yes, it will be several), I'll do my best to keep your interest.  So, why post this now when there was obvious hesitation before?  Eh, it's time.  I'm 30 now after all and it's time to turn the page on the past.  I shared this with some co-workers recently and it was a surprisingly easy thing for me to do.  I wonder if the few martinis I have in me right now also had a hand......Nah.

Time frame = Employment

Code name = Phoenix

When I first decided to write about my past crushes, I did so with obvious hesitation. The common thread is that I don’t think any of them really knew they were a crush. I knew exposing myself to people I might still see was therefore a risk without any real benefits, but I could live with that. What I wasn’t sure is how I would hold up because I knew all roads would eventually lead here, to Phoenix. I feared some of the scars would not be fully healed when I opened up my brain and looked around inside. This is my most recent crush and the one (as you’ll see) I can write about with the most fervor and accuracy. The other crushes were far enough in the rear view mirror that my recollections were mostly positive because it’s what I wanted to remember. I think that was reflected in my writing. I don’t have the luxury of time yet to forget the unwanted memories involving Phoenix. Writing this piece scared me a little.

Phoenix was a co-worker with me at Applied Systems. I never really paid much notice to her when she first started working there. Months probably passed and we barely said any words to each other. There was really no reason to. I’m not sure how or why but we started talking a little. The crush grew slowly and I didn’t even realize it existed until I was pretty heavily invested emotionally. I told myself they were just conversations, but I couldn’t deny the butterflies and rush of anticipation I felt whenever I would see her IM window pop up.

I looked forward to those conversations more than she could have known. It’s pretty pathetic but sometimes I would judge my work day based on whether Phoenix and I had shared a chat. We discussed lots of different topics and I indulged Phoenix with whatever was on her mind. I didn’t care; I wanted to hear it all. She would probably be shocked how many things I remember. It’s remarkable how much you can recall when you’re really listening.

Eventually we began to talk outside of work on Facebook as well. Work chats don’t require any special effort because you’re forced to be there. Striking up a conversation is just another convenient way to pass the time. The Facebook chats were meaningful because they were something extra. At night, I’d keep the Facebook page open on the off chance Phoenix would log in. On some lucky nights Phoenix wouldn’t disappoint. I’d talk to her for as long as she would let me. I’d go to bed with a smile on my face. I couldn’t seem to fall asleep right away because my mind was racing with the possibilities. I sent up more than my fair share of prayers hoping that fate would put us together. Who needs sleep anyway?

Music is a powerful tool. It can take us back and rekindle the memories we keep tucked away. Fortunately, I’ll have a song to associate with Phoenix and the good times. During one of our chats, she pointed me to the music video for “You Can Call Me Al” by Paul Simon. The song vaguely rang a bell. I have a wide range of musical tastes but it’s not the kind of song that would be in my wheelhouse. I had no reason to give it a second thought before. Now, with the video in mind, it's a source of joy. Phoenix explained how she and her brother would re-enact the dance performed by Simon and Chevy Chase. I have to chuckle because I could totally see her doing that.

By all accounts, Phoenix and I are two very different people. Our long-term outlooks on life did not align. She wanted to live in the city and experience all the metropolitan adventures. Kids were out of the question and marriage was a relatively foreign concept to her. I am a simple country kid who doesn’t appreciate the bright lights.  I always thought I'd get married someday and have some children to live vicariously through. Phoenix is a very strong-willed individual best suited for someone who could meet her steely resolve. I’m not really that kind of guy. I had to keep reminding myself that Phoenix was five years younger than me because she had an aura that suggested she was older. I myself act much younger than someone my age. Phoenix said that she used to smoke (turn-off #1) and insisted she had stopped, but noted that she wouldn’t be completely against starting again. She didn’t appreciate the brilliance of The Simpsons (the '90s episodes and not the former shell of itself the show has become). She even had a personal vendetta against Taco Bell and refused to eat there. I know, ca-ray-zay!

My brain crunched the numbers and the compatibility results were not promising. In fact, there have been a couple other girls during my 6-year tenure at Applied that I considered a better fit for me when analyzing the prospects of a potential relationship. And yet, this blog is not about those other girls. This is why I knew my interest in Phoenix wasn’t just a passing phase. Despite all the evidence pointing me in the other direction, I was still into her. Quite simply, Phoenix had “it”. “It” is indefinable but no less important than any other tangible quality that draws you in to someone. Add it all up and Phoenix was in my crosshairs.

Speaking of tangible qualities, Phoenix was a looker despite what she’d have you and I believe. When she wanted to, Phoenix could definitely turn some heads. Trust me, I’m not the only one in the office who felt that way. So yeah, you could say I was attracted to her. What I loved about her is that she didn’t usually feel the need to oversell herself. She was completely comfortable with who she was. I believe she would have shown up to work in sweats if they let her. Then again, who wouldn’t?

I’ve mentioned before that I may try to map out theoretical conversations I plan on having with a crush. For as many conversations as we actually had, I must have had almost as many imaginary ones with Phoenix. I devised ways to reveal things I wanted her to know and created a variety of potential responses she could have. I was prepared for whatever direction the conversation would turn. Many of these imaginary conversations never materialized; if they did, it never quite went to plan.

One of the more draining aspects (an entirely self-induced one) of a conversation with Phoenix is that I always felt like I had to be “on”. And you know what? I didn’t mind the challenge. I was convinced that I needed to keep feeding her with something interesting or risk losing the conversation. I also respected Phoenix’s intelligence as I have with virtually all of my crushes. I needed her to feel the same way about my smarts. It’s a recurring theme with my crushes. Truthfully, I’d say my insecurities on this matter extend beyond just those I’ve had crushes on. If I view you as equal or superior to me in terms of intellect, it’s important that I correct myself on any mistakes made lest you look down on me for it (ignoring obvious errors like transposing typed letters).

Understandably, I was very careful with my words when talking to Phoenix. If it was an IM conversation, the correct spelling or definition of a word was double-checked, if there was any doubt, before I used it. If it was a verbal conversation, those questionable words were kept tucked away. I don’t want to imply that I’m a huge phony though. I like to think I’m brighter than the Average Joe and most of my material – in these blogs and in general – is straight out of my head with no vetting required. I just wanted to be extra sure with Phoenix. Verbal conversations were obviously harder to control and I probably stumbled through more than my fair share of them with her. I always seem to discover the witty words to say a few minutes after the interaction has ended. Not just with Phoenix, but with everyone. I wish I could think quicker on my feet but I guess that’s why I type and don’t speak.

Phoenix certainly wasn’t the kind of girl who would make things easy on you. She was an intimidating presence to say the least. It was common knowledge throughout the office that you did not want to get on her bad side. A few of us at least had some fun with it. “Target acquired” and “eliminated” were referenced on more than one occasion. Phoenix wasn’t one of those girly girl types, which was a good thing. She played and watched sports.  Those who know me are aware that’s a quality I’ll always award a girl extra points for.

It wouldn’t surprise me if Phoenix wore the pants in all of her relationships. I recall the one time we went out to lunch together during work hours. We had been discussing the McRib, that glorious sandwich dripping with its intoxicating barbeque sauce. I noted that it was something I indulged myself with once a year or so, but that I had not yet met my yearly quota. It was settled then; we would go one day. I carpool with my brother and McRib day fell on his turn to drive. I also chose that day to forget my employee ID badge which controls your building access. This lunch most definitely was not a date but it could have been a precursor to one. However, Phoenix would be driving me to McDonald’s and opening doors for me. That irony was not lost on me.

When I think of her nature, one particular conversation stands out to me. Somehow the movie “The Notebook” came up and I admitted to not only tolerating the movie but even, well, kind of, enjoying it. (I should have been able to use that to my advantage somehow with the female population.) That was, not surprisingly, met with a snort and mockery. I jokingly asked what pumped that black sludge through her veins because it surely wasn’t a heart.

We talked about weekly gatherings at her local drinking establishment. Phoenix lived on the south side of city, which was north of my comfort border. To me, there’s Chicago and there’s everything south of I-80. I limit my travels north of “the line” to only times when it’s absolutely necessary, when it’s an event I know I’ll really enjoy, or when I care about someone at the event. I can take or leave the bar scene, so I would have gone solely for her presence. And oh how I wanted to go.

It was indirectly implied that I should join Phoenix and her crew sometime. Awesome! I needed something more concrete though. I’ve never been one to just show up somewhere unless explicitly asked nor am I one who invites himself. So I bided my time, keeping my best-pressed shirt on stand-by. I was going to be sure to remind her of my urban disdain when the invite came but concede to “make an exception in this case”. I fantasized about where this could lead. I’d hit it off with her friends and I might suddenly look like a pretty good option. Week after week, they’d go drinking but I never got the call. I should have known better.

I tried to play my part in suggesting we should hang out sometime. Looking back, I should have been more proactive about it. I figured a non-committal group setting would be the best route to take. I’m in a mixed bowling league in Beecher every other Saturday. It’s a fun, low-key environment to hang out and drink with a group of people. I can understand not wanting to walk into that setting alone however, so I encouraged her to bring some friends. It was an open-ended invitation. Just something to get the ball rolling (no pun intended). I’ve actually extended the same invite to several people. That was back when I used to think that just mentioning my whereabouts on Facebook with the invitation to join me would be enough. I know now I have to work harder than that. I also know that I won’t. To the few that have ever taken me up on the offer, your place in my good graces is secure.

I got the impression like Peotone and the surrounding areas were places Phoenix did not want to be caught dead in. Maybe she too had a geographical bias that was the exact opposite of mine. She admitted to actually going to Striker’s (Beecher’s bowling alley) once before based on a dare from a different Applied employee. I thought to myself, why was his dare good enough but my invite isn’t. Was the experience really that terrible? She told me she went to Mulligan’s in Monee once for an after-work celebration and vowed to never return. Maybe she was soured on the entire landscape. Eventually Phoenix yielded some and said she’d consider making the trip down. I knew that was just an attempt to pacify me and I wanted to tell her not to suggest things she had no intention of doing. I didn’t and just held out a little sliver of hope that maybe she was serious.

I probably had lots of missed opportunities to at least take a chance. I’m not saying they would have been successful but I could have swung away. There was New Year’s Eve, which she had planned to spend alone. None of the offers put before me seemed very intriguing so I too was planning for a night in. I communicated this to Phoenix. Maybe a quiet night in with just the two of us was exactly what the doctor ordered. I wasn’t going to openly suggest this but I sure as heck could hint at it. Apparently, my plight was not moving enough. Nobody should be alone when ringing in the New Year, right? I guess Phoenix understood that because she ultimately went out with friends. Me? I stayed at home alone as promised, trying to drink away and forget the last hours of 2011. Some say that who is around and what you are doing when the clock strikes midnight will set the stage for your next year. Maybe there’s some validity to that seemingly nonsensical belief. There were some really bright spots, but on the whole, 2012 was a huge letdown in several areas of my life. [Insert obligatory follow-up that I vow to make 2013 better.]

I liked to fool myself into thinking that there was a time when Phoenix would have been open to any of my advances. Back when our Facebook chats were at their height, I remember her posting a status that was essentially saying “shit or get off the pot”. When questioned about it, she added a follow-up comment that it had to do with a guy. I noticed this status was quickly deleted from her wall. I wondered if just maybe I was the subject of the post and it was deleted in an attempt to hide it from me. Of course, I would have needed a lot more than that before exposing my true feelings. I now realize that was mere pyrite I was holding onto but it kept my dreams afloat for a little while.

See, the thing you need to know about me is that I’ll always leave you wanting more. I can’t deliver on the expectations you conjure up. You’re not into me; you’re into the idea of what I could be. From an outsider’s point of view, I should have all the tools to make it happen. I don’t know what to tell you. The individual pieces, all perfectly functional on their own, just don’t fit together nicely. It never fails - you’ll grow tired of playing the waiting game and move on. I don’t blame you.

Please, please don’t mistake passive for indifferent. I’d shout it at the top of my lungs to the entire female population if they would listen. I know someone eventually has to make the move, but I didn’t want it to be me. I always thought the girl for me would be the one who fought through my maze of subtleties and criteria and emerged with a proclamation of feelings that froze me right in my place. The number of capable and, more importantly, willing people who could complete such an arduous undertaking has to be less than the number of people named David Younker in the United States. (I was curious once. There are 28 according to the census website whose data I am choosing to trust.) Call it my own way of pre-screening individuals to ensure a maximum chance of relationship success. Now that I can view my time with Phoenix through the 20-20 lenses of hindsight, I know any hints I dropped were far too inadequate to ever be caught. There was no way for her to jump to the proper conclusion. Even my half-assed attempts to court someone are half-assed. 

Of course, I’m probably fooling myself thinking that anyone has actually ever had these grand delusions of viewing me as potential boyfriend material. Phoenix almost had me believing she did, which may be why I held out hope for so long. There were times it felt like she was going out of her way a little to talk to me. Why hold an online conversation with me when you’re out with friends at a bar? It just didn’t make sense. Maybe I just happened to be online at the right time (eh, I’m always online) and a few words with me was deemed as a sufficient way to pass the time in lieu of a bar scene hopping with far more attractive options.

So why didn’t I take more appropriate actions to get the definitive answer I so desperately sought? The primary driving force behind my hesitation had to be that she was a co-worker. So what, you say? Well, I’ve got a lot of crazy rules and criteria when it comes to dating. Sometimes I think I’ll make up any excuse not to go after someone. Just add another brick to the fortress I’ve walled myself inside.

Actually, I think my stance on this one is particularly defensible. If you have interest in a co-worker, I would urge you to proceed with extreme caution. I’m not saying it can’t work because I’ve seen successful inter-office relationships. I just think you’re playing with fire and I won’t say I told you so when you get burned. There’s the obvious awkwardness that ensues if your initial courting attempt is met with resistance, but there’s also the risk of a post-breakup meltdown. Do you like your job? If that other person is a bit unhinged or just plain vindictive, I sincerely hope you’re in good with your HR department.

All things considered, I believe it is good policy not to mix business and pleasure. Even if you’re heads over heels in love, everyone needs a break from their significant other for part of the day to avoid getting burned out. As strange as it sounds, I would enjoy the freedom work provides. I’d like to come home and escape from the problems of my work day by hearing a completely different set of problems. We’d console each other with a fresh outsider perspective. Am I alone on this?

As part of my reconnaissance mission to gauge any potential interest she may have had in me, Phoenix and I broached the subject of inter-office relationships. She was sickened by all of the “Applied-cest”, as she put it, going on in our office. Leave it to her to be completely blunt about it. That was another signal even I could decipher. I needed to stand down.

Another thing you must understand about me is that I probably won’t ask a female to go out unless I’m reasonably confident the answer is the one I’m looking for. There’s always exceptions but let’s file any unasked questions I had for Phoenix under the norm.  Even though I was fairly certain that Phoenix didn’t return my feelings, I felt compelled to mention the situation to my good buddy Tom. Naturally, he told me to go for it if there was even the slightest doubt in my mind that I’d get a favorable response. I knew that would be his suggestion. He’s always been willing to take a risk whereas I’m more inclined to let my “logic” guide me. I was too concerned with the potential fallout. It was all about damage control.

I only ever admitted to liking Phoenix by name to one person. My confidant was an Applied employee who also fancied a co-worker. I pressed him for the name with no success until he finally offered me a deal. Knowing that I too liked someone in the office, he agreed to tell me the name of his crush in exchange for the name of mine. Truthfully, I could not have cared less who his mystery woman was. I don’t need juicy office gossip to sustain me and it was really none of my damn business. I agreed to his offer because I knew that divulging this information would lift a weight off of my shoulders. If I couldn’t tell Phoenix herself, I needed to tell someone who at least knew who she was. My buddy Tom lives in Bloomington. It was easy to talk about Phoenix with him because she was always just a faceless, nameless person. Admitting my feelings to Applied-guy felt good. Kinda like I hope writing this blog will.

It had become clear that I wasn’t going to become a friend of Phoenix’s, let alone a boyfriend. If Phoenix was into me, I would have known it. She would have pressed the issue more, but she didn’t. It was a harsh realization but one I had to accept. She didn’t reciprocate my feelings. I felt like I said all the right things and I didn’t know why I didn’t mean more to Phoenix. I guess the heart wants what the heart wants.

I was merely a co-worker who she leaned on at various times to help pass the work day. You now know how much I enjoyed those interactions but it just wasn’t enough for me. I couldn’t check my feelings at the door when I walked into the office. Knowing full well that my paralysis with women would prevent me from ever doing anything to change the situation, I began to pray for a reprieve from the power she held over me. Maybe, just maybe, if she was off the market, then I could get some closure. I wouldn’t have to wonder anymore if I had a chance.

One of my most, er, redeeming qualities is that I respect boundaries. I am the LAST guy you ever have to worry about stealing your girl. As the great Roy Munson put it, “You don’t mow another guy’s lawn.” It’s a simple credo that I adhere to. Guys, if your girl is flirting with me, rest assured that I did not initiate it. Rather than getting in my face, I suggest you take a moment to rethink where things are between the two of you. I mean, if she’s showing an interest in me…well, you’ve read enough of my blogs to know where I’m going with that.

Anyway, they say be careful what you wish for. Of all the prayers I had involving Phoenix, it’s fitting that the one about her getting a boyfriend who wasn’t me is the one that would be answered. Inevitably it came up casually in one of our IM conversations. We discussed him a few times, and I offered my advice and support to Phoenix on things like meeting the guy’s parents. There was nothing insincere or scheming in anything I said. Although it was difficult, I spoke to her as a friend because I wanted to see her happy. I’d still give her the same pearls of wisdom, for whatever they’re worth, if she asked today.

Around that time, in accordance with my desires for a reprieve, I took a calculated gamble. I began to distance myself from Phoenix. The majority of IM conversations I have are initiated by the other party. Waiting for others to make the first move? Shocking, I know. With Phoenix (as with others really), I always had the fear that I was engaging her at an inopportune time. I’m firmly convinced of my terrible timing and I guess it’s an ever-present fear.

Yes, the DY-Phoenix chats were usually started by Phoenix but she was one of the few people with whom I broke the IM ice. I stopped doing that, both at work and on Facebook. Additionally, when she came to me for our usual stimulating conversation, I was less than my usual responsive self. Phoenix is a clever gal, so she took the hint. Daily conversations turned into every other day, then to weekly, and finally to whenever something NEEDED to be discussed (i.e. work-related). By the end, it seemed like even those inquiries had come to a halt. Call it arrogant if you must but I do think I’m pretty darn good at my job. There’s a reason so many people outside my team reach out to me for assistance. Maybe I was no longer the best source of answers for Phoenix but I doubted it. Outside of work, the Facebook chats ceased altogether. I can only imagine what my actions must have seemed like to her. I’m guessing I was just some jerk who had grown tired of her company. It couldn’t have been further from the truth.

By the time I made my decision, there was a new round of hires within my department. Understandably they had developed a bond with Phoenix. One of them was even contemplating making a move after her. I gave him my support in his endeavor and astutely reminded him what a monumental task it would be (he concurred). Phoenix quickly adapted to life with the noobs, casting me aside with ease. It was obvious that my role as a sounding board was easily replaceable. I had become obsolete, swapped out for newer, younger models. But they couldn’t possibly provide the same humor and insight that I did, could they? I know there were many people Phoenix chatted with at work but I liked to think my absence in the IM game left some sort of void. Clearly I overestimated my impact. How could I have been so naïve and short-sighted?

After the revelation of a boyfriend surfaced, the decision to move on became a relatively easy one. The execution of that decision however was far more difficult. Although I had begun the process of moving on, I apparently wasn’t quite ready to abandon the notion of being friends just yet. I had just finished reading The Hunger Games trilogy and the 1^st installment was coming to theatres, on my birthday as it turned out. Phoenix and I had discussed the books briefly and both of us expressed a desire to see the movie. She had to know I wanted to see it and that’s important here.

I danced around the subject of getting a group together to go see the film. It was my typical way of asking something without directly asking it. A week or so passed and I started to get a little anxious that I might not actually see the movie. Finally, I decided to step out of my comfort zone a little lot and spearhead the movement of organizing a group to see the movie that weekend (this was on a Thursday). The conversation started by me confirming that she hadn’t seen the movie yet…except that she did, with friends, just the night before. Phoenix returned the question and I backpedaled, suggesting that I might not go see it after all, in part because I didn’t have anyone to see it with. Part of that was the truth; part of it was intended to plant some guilt. She proceeded to suggest other co-workers that I might be able to see the movie with, which only further highlighted how far apart from being friends we really were. I have yet to see The Hunger Games. It’s not like the prospect of seeing it is too painful or anything sappy like that. I just lost the drive to see the movie and have never gotten around to it.

For someone who proclaims to be a man of science and logic, I have an annoying little habit of trying to look for signs in many things I do. Signs that are derivatives of fate. With women, it’s no different really. I look for reasons why something is meant to be or not to be (usually the latter). I’m not quite sure why but I saw that Hunger Games failure as the final straw.

I began to see Phoenix a little differently after that. Even though she had done nothing wrong, I didn’t want her around anymore. I’m not proud of the grudge I secretly harbored for the next couple months. In a silent moment at home, I would curse her name into my pillow. At work, I would hear her voice and do one of two things to suppress my frustrations. I’d either make efficient use of my stress ball or blare something like Linkin Park’s “One Step Closer” through my headphones. I was letting the mere thought of her eat away at me and it was really unhealthy.

As the weeks passed, I was just looking for a reason to really be angry but it had to be justified. As chance would have it, Phoenix would give me my opportunity. Phoenix organized an after-work get together at a sports bar called Pete Mitchell’s. Our interaction had really tapered off by this point, so I was even a little surprised to get the invite. I guess I wasn’t a complete afterthought just yet. I was definitely eager to go. Phoenix and I might even get to have a thought-provoking conversation like the good ol’ days. My brother made the guest list (largely irrelevant to this story, I just found it odd) and I convinced him to come along.

We arrived a little after the designated start time. Our arrival was a combination of “Younker Time” and my insistence on never being the first person to show up somewhere. ‘Hey, who’s that loser standing there by himself?’ ‘I’m just waiting for some others. No, really, I am!’ I was taken aback when I saw just one other co-worker (Shane C.) sitting there. I immediately assumed we were being stood up but assured myself that I was just being paranoid. Midway through the first beer that I was nursing, it became painfully obvious that my fears were indeed true. I was furious and I was going to confront Phoenix about it the next morning.

I briefly considered a tactful approach, but even a night’s sleep didn’t tame the animal pacing inside my head, begging to be released from his cage. I went after her guns a-blazing via IM, opening with something along the lines of ‘thanks for wasting the collective time and gas of myself, my brother, and Shane’ (I can only assume he shared my outrage). I was quickly counter-punched with the notification that someone close to her had passed away, and she figuratively slammed the door in my face. She switched to the dreaded ‘Do not disturb’status, preventing any sort of response. Amazing that she could somehow turn the tables so I would feel like the jerk that had done wrong.

I really wish I could say that was the first time I called out someone’s absence only to discover a death was the reason. Come on, there’s no way I could have known that! Death or not, I felt like all attendees deserved to know the event was, for all intents, cancelled. As the event organizer, I believed that duty fell to Phoenix. That’s common courtesy, you know? Those on a more regular speaking basis with Phoenix seemingly did know that no one was going, and that was probably part of what irked me because it reminded me of how much we used to talk.

I was genuinely sorry for her loss, but I still needed my feelings validated. I shared the scenario (but no names) with some other co-workers who sided with me. Perhaps they were just humoring me to my face. Looking back, of course I wish I would have handled it differently. On the plus side, I’ve never been overly infatuated with Top Gun, so I won’t miss that place.

After this altercation, my gut told me it would never be the same between us. I just had no idea how uncomfortable it would become. Anyone that’s worked in an office with co-worker tension can appreciate what I’m talking about. You go out of your way to avoid them by darting down a different row of cubicles. You turn up your headphones just so you don’t overhear one of their conversations. This is all easier said than done when it’s someone you see almost daily. In those sticky situations when chance puts you both at the coffee station at the same time, you do your best to acknowledge their presence and utter some meaningless small talk. Phoenix and I were no different. Neither of us was willing to address the eight hundred pound gorilla in the room it seemed. The silent treatment had set in. I perceived a scowl whenever she looked at me. That’s where I thought it would end at least.

One day a bombshell was dropped. I was kept up to date on Phoenix’s latest thoughts and activities via my Facebook ticker. Her name also had a prominent place in my chat window, reserved for the people you’ve messaged recently or most often. (I didn’t and don’t chat very often on FB so that’s why hers remained in its place.) I couldn’t help but notice her presence on FB. You could even say I went out of my way to notice it. Then all of a sudden I stopped noticing. It didn’t dawn on me at first but then I confirmed it – we weren’t friends anymore. Surely there had to be some mistake. Did she really un-friend me? I know we sort of had a falling out but that seemed a bit extreme. I mean, how else could I stalk her? Is he joking? The term“friend” is really saturated on Facebook; you don’t even have to know the person. I had truly become persona non grata in Phoenix’s eyes and that really stung. My initial reactions of shock and resentment quickly morphed into just sadness.

Once again, there would be nights when sleep would evade me for a long time because of Phoenix. This time it was for different reasons and the sleeplessness was often accompanied by tears. I’m not ashamed of the tears. A day of laughter and crying makes for a very full day. We should be so lucky to have things in our lives that move us to such actions. Yes, I’ve shed my fair share of tears over many things throughout the years. Not often over girls though. I’d come to accept their general willingness to pass over me. I may have had a fleeting hope here or there but the inevitable outcomes were nothing to lose sleep or cry over. Somehow I had let this one sneak past my defenses. Phoenix had no idea what she was doing to me. I had been chewed up and spit out by a man-eater. Hall & Oates would be proud.

I internalized everything. Co-workers and friends, even Phoenix, didn’t need to be brought down by the pain I was feeling. Hey, I guess I’m a pretty considerate guy after all. If you could deal with the occasional emo-based self-pity words I’d post in an IM note or FB status update, then you were largely unaffected. I have a whole stable of sad songs that I can rely upon to get me through such times. I’d keep hitting skip on my playlist until I found what I was looking for. “Words I Couldn’t Say” by Rascal Flatts, “Nobody Knows It” by The Tony Rich Project, The Script’s “Nøthing”, to name a few. I’d use their lyrics in an IM note as a feeble attempt to communicate to her, knowing all the while they’d never be read or have their true purpose identified. I guess Lifehouse could sum up my situation the best. I was waiting for the night to avoid seeing her. Then I was waiting for the day to bring some new hope. I was stuck somewhere in between.

I always knew Phoenix would leave Applied eventually based on the way she talked about the job. Unlike me, many people aren’t just all talk. ‘Hey Dave, how’s that house hunt coming along?’ There would be a day when things would get much, much easier. I strongly considered composing a hand-written (no one does that anymore) letter to Phoenix that expressed all of my past (yes, past) feelings. I had no expectations for this letter; it wasn’t some desperate last attempt to win her over. I just felt like…she should…know. I was going to deliver this letter on her last day or mail it to her after the fact. Perhaps I was deterred by the failure of the last time I wrote a letter to a girl, but I chickened out.

I never did tell Phoenix how I felt and I guess this blog is the closest I could get albeit in a much more public (public?) forum than originally intended. I can exhale an easy breath knowing that it’s likely she’ll never read this. Even if this somehow does make its way to her eyes, I hope she’d appreciate the absolute honesty and get on with her life in whatever way seemed best. Honesty never goes out of style, does it?

It’s obvious that I no longer work with Phoenix. The news of her impending departure reached me rather suddenly. (That’s another reason for the incompletion of my letter, although I’m sure I could have found time if I really wanted to.) There would be one final shindig to celebrate her Applied career. Phoenix even invited me. I accepted as “tentative” (my usual response) but I wasn’t going to miss this.

Side note: Accepting as “tentative” really gives you the best of both a “Yes” and “No”. If something comes up or you just change your mind, no one really expected you to be there in the first place. Jack Johnson had it right – maybe does pretty much always mean no. However, when you do ultimately show up, it’s an unexpected surprise. It’s almost as if you’re greeted more warmly than someone who accepted outright. The only drawback is the potential loss of credibility I’ve created for myself due to overuse of the response.

Back to the story. The end with Phoenix was near. I just couldn’t leave things the way they were between us, not after what she had meant to me. A couple days before she left, I reached out to her via IM at work. I thanked her for the countless enjoyable conversations we shared and wished her the best of luck in her future endeavors. It was all sincere and I can only hope she forgave me for any lingering grievances. In my opinion, we parted ways on amicable terms. I guess there’s someone else you’d have to confirm that with but I’m mostly satisfied.

A lot of people have come and gone in my time at Applied. It’s the nature of the pay. You develop a little bond with some of them even. There may be intentions of“staying of touch” after they leave but we all know how it usually turns out. As I gazed upon Phoenix for what I knew would be the last time at her going-away event, it was a bittersweet feeling. Part of me was sorry to see her go, but I knew her departure would be the ultimate elixir on the path to healing.

I wished things would have turned out differently. Maybe in another time in a parallel universe. I was still thankful for the opportunity to know Phoenix. Finally, I said my goodbye, offering a casual “been nice knowin’ ya”. If she only knew the real weight behind those words. I slowly walked to my car and sat there for a couple minutes, reflecting on everything I had felt in the past year. I romanticized that she would detect the hint of sorrow in my eyes as I left and chase me down to reveal some secret feelings because she knew it would be her last chance. Alas, Hollywood doesn’t make house calls.

I was forwarded an email once with Chinese New Year sayings that offer advice on how to live your life. I printed a copy and pinned it to my cubicle wall to serve as a reminder for days I need guidance. One simple statement let me know everything was going to be alright: “Time heals almost everything. Give time time.”

Now that time has passed, I can look back at this crush without emotion clouding my judgment. I can appreciate it and her as another step in my life. I realize that some of what I have said may paint her in a negative light (or maybe just me, which is fair), but I remind you all that this is just my opinion. Additionally, and I cannot overstate this enough, I’ve tried to communicate what I was feeling as the events were unfolding. Written with the benefit of hindsight, this blog might look a little different. If you do happen to know Phoenix, nothing you’ve read here should change what you think about her. I’ve opened myself up for your judgment but that’s where it should end. I got whatever I deserved between myself and Phoenix. I hold no grudges for anything that did or didn’t happen. There will be wistful memories but there will also be just as many happy ones. I know I’ll never be as important to Phoenix as she was to me. I can only hope I gave her some good times and that her lasting impression of me is a positive one. At the very least, maybe she will be able to remember my name years from now when she looks back on her time at Applied.

While Phoenix will eventually fade into the subconscious region of my brain, it’s safe to say she’ll never be completely forgotten. I was reminded of that just this past Christmas season. Phoenix was a well-read gal, so I solicited her for suggested reading material. One of her offerings was “Unbroken”. My dad was showing me some of the gifts he had bought for my mom. Guess which book I see. I couldn’t help but shake my head. At least I’m in a place now where I can find the humor in such things.

I know I tend to ramble on, so if you’re still reading, that’s quite an accomplishment (and thank you). It’s a lot like that crappy movie you shelled out 8 bucks for. You’ve made it this far and invested your time and money. You owe it to yourself to see firsthand what comically bad ending is in store. Trust me, your opinion will mean more when you recount the experience years later with friends.  Or, if you're lucky, you can just point your friends to a clip from a TV show that's done the work for you.

So now you’re finally here and wondering what cockamamie theory or story I have for you. This better be good, Younker.  The truth is that I had a different ending in my original draft.  After sleeping on it for a couple nights, I decided to scrap most of it.  I couldn't throw my full support behind the words anymore.  Maybe I'm still drinking the New Year's Kool-Aid but it sounded too much like the old me I vowed to break away from.

In this far less impressive ending, I can at least inform you that I won’t be writing about my lady ineptitude anymore. [Audience exhales a huge sigh of relief and applauds.] I think there’s enough documentation on that topic. I’ll be able to write about things you may actually care about. Now, I won’t hesitate to discuss general relationship dilemmas if asked (re: he's running out of ideas so shoot questions his way). I have plenty of untested theories if you’re willing to entertain a little out of the box thinking. I’m always here for you.

I'll leave you with one last thought:  I think that true love and ultimately marriage is not so much a product of who as it is when. It’s when you’re ready to wholly commit to true love and take that next step. Who you’re with at the time, if they’re even remotely right for you, grows into “the one”. There’s no timetable but everyone reaches that point in their lives if their path is leading them in that direction. Not everyone is on that path though. You shouldn’t feel ashamed if your head and heart tells you what you’re doing is right. Follow them. 

Epilogue: This concludes the mini-series on crushes. I hope you’ve enjoyed the view into my past through my eyes. It wasn’t easy to do this but it’s been a very cathartic process. I felt many different emotions and a better author could have conveyed them all.

There have been other crushes throughout my life but these I have written about are the most significant. Linebacker wasn’t really that significant actually. (I had intended to write about all of my crushes at that point, and her story was a short one that I was using as filler.) I guess you could call the other 4 – Linear Regression, Sandiego, Kung Pow, and Phoenix –my Mount Rushmore of crushes. They represent different stages of my progression through life (grade school, high school, college, and employment, respectively). I didn’t plan for it to work out that way, but I’m pleased with the balance because the memory of each crush doesn’t threaten to cannibalize any of the others.

The irony in all of this is that the few girls I’ve gone on dates with during and since high school have not been ones I’ve had a crush on nor did they develop into a crush once we went on a date. I guess that’s appropriate. To me, the concept of a crush is that idealistic person just beyond your grasp. The final destination with them may not ultimately produce a pot of gold, but it’s the path you travel that leads to the best stories and memories. You must take the good with the bad. They say you learn more from your failures than your successes anyhow. Mission accomplished.