I hate losing

Part of my type-A controlling personality is the whole hating to lose thing. Oh, don’t get me wrong, friend, I can put on the happy face and pretend we’re out there ‘just to have fun’, but inside is a viciously competitive maniac who can’t STAND to not win. I want blood. I want victory. I want my opposition to CRY!!!

Luckily our Beer League Softball team is awesome. Undefeated all summer, usually sealing our win on most games by the 3rd or 4th inning so the rest of the innings were just us having a great time (while winning, of course). I was pretty sure we were the BEST. That is until I chatted with the league commissioner about the upcoming fun tournament on Saturday.

The conversation went something like this:

Me: Hey Rob, thanks for Umping tonight (we were in the finals, so we had an actual umpire – in beer league?!?! We’re pretty much professionals.)

Rob: No prob, are you excited for Saturday’s tournament?

Me: Heck ya! What’s the format going to be?

Rob: Oh, don’t worry, you’ll just play teams from the B tier, not the teams from the A tier.

Me: …
…
…
So… we’re in the ‘B’ league, not the ‘A’ league?

Rob: Yep

Me: well… maybe next year we should sign up for the A tier?

Rob: umm, that’s a terrible idea you guys aren’t good enough to play against those teams.

Me: oh *crying inside*.

Rob: okay, see you Saturday.

Me: yea. sure.

My euphoric high from finishing an undefeated season was BURSTED by Rob telling me we weren’t the best.

I have issues.


I’ll wear my ‘2010 Champions’ shirt with pride though; no one has to know that we were the winners of the loser league, right?

Compliments

I took my parents to the Vancouver 2010 Pride Parade this weekend (Parade post to come another time!).  We were lucky to get a spot right on the curb along Beach Ave - mom and I sat on the sidewalk while my dad stood behind us (with his mouth agape the entire time).

Just as the parade was about to start a gorgeous flamboyantly gay man sat down beside my mom. He was wearing a floppy straw hat and a flowing rainbow boa - my mom fell in love!  He gave a running commentary through the entire parade "oh my gawd, policemen? Yummy, I just die for a man in uniform", or "gimme 5 minutes with that sexy piece of meat, I'll just devour him"... "Hockey players? Ooo, shower time must be ahhhmazing".  He had us in stitches for the full 3 hours.  He even ran into the street to take a pictures with a RCMP Mountie "Mounties? Ohhh, I'd like to mount him..."

At one point he turned to me, peeked over his glasses and shouted "Holy crap, you're FRICKEN GORGEOUS, are you like, Swedish or something, Oh. My. God, model alert!".  I was flattered (how could you not be?)... that was until he said the same thing the group of 14 year-olds to my left, "Oh. My. God. You girls are adorable, you're FRICKEN BEAUTIFUL!", and then to my mom "Oh. My. God. You are FRICKEN LOVELY, I LOVE your blue eyes", and then to my dad "Your dad is FRICKEN HAWT, what a tall drink of water!"... needless to say his compliments tended to lose their effectiveness after awhile...

Regardless I'll still hold onto the 'FRICKEN GORGEOUS' for a few days, 'cause it feels FRICKEN great.

Red Wine

Red wine is the universe's way of saying "hey bud, sorry for all that crap I send your way... here, have some of this".

Universe, I accept.