CAKE. EVERYBODY LOVES CAKE.
I'm officially turning a quarter-century Monday. Tina has been calling me 25 since about July. I've got a full few days of festivities planned out. The first event came Friday at work. Anne made me a doberge cake.
Here's a look at the inside after Anne cut the ceremonial first piece. Ceremonial because it kicked off the The Gene Pool birthday celebration.
And five minutes later, it was as if the cake never existed. Everyone in the office took a piece, ate it up and it was all gone. You blew it, Marcus. The cake got rave reviews in the department, including from me. Thanks, Anne.Anne had only one regret. She wished there was a piece left for me to take home to Tina so she could curse about it. Well, there's always Tina's birthday, a mere three months away. Speaking of Tina, she's making a cake for Sunday.
CHAPTER VI. THE NIGHT OF THE CHALLENGE.
Previously on High School Girlfriend Saga: Regina and I came close to having sex. She decided we were getting married. I reluctantly agreed. My mom was not too happy about the idea. She slammed Regina's car door in her face and kicked me out of the house by taking my keys and locking the door.
And action.
Regina took me back to her house. Correction. Regina drove us back to our house. When we got married in the summer, that's where we would live. Having been kicked out of Tina's house, I figured I might as well start living at the Chateau Estates now.
I stayed strong for Regina on the car ride. I told her not to worry about my mom and that she would eventually come around. I got her to stop crying by the time we got home. She seemed more relaxed. I, however, was panicking more than a child rapist when first put into the jail cell and watching the guard walk away.
I didn't really want to get married. I just got caught in that moment between my mom and Regina and didn't know what to do. At our house, I was freaking out about not living at my real home. I did all this on the inside because I didn't want to alarm the fiancee. But this was like growing up in super fast forward. I wanted no part of it.
My dad calls and tells me he just got this freaked out phone call from mom. I'm talking to him while Regina is in the other room.
Previously on High School Girlfriend Saga: Regina and I came close to having sex. She decided we were getting married. I reluctantly agreed. My mom was not too happy about the idea. She slammed Regina's car door in her face and kicked me out of the house by taking my keys and locking the door.
And action.
Regina took me back to her house. Correction. Regina drove us back to our house. When we got married in the summer, that's where we would live. Having been kicked out of Tina's house, I figured I might as well start living at the Chateau Estates now.
I stayed strong for Regina on the car ride. I told her not to worry about my mom and that she would eventually come around. I got her to stop crying by the time we got home. She seemed more relaxed. I, however, was panicking more than a child rapist when first put into the jail cell and watching the guard walk away.
I didn't really want to get married. I just got caught in that moment between my mom and Regina and didn't know what to do. At our house, I was freaking out about not living at my real home. I did all this on the inside because I didn't want to alarm the fiancee. But this was like growing up in super fast forward. I wanted no part of it.
My dad calls and tells me he just got this freaked out phone call from mom. I'm talking to him while Regina is in the other room.
Dad: You're getting married?
Me: Maybe. I don't know. I didn't like mom's reaction.
Dad: Well, what did you expect? Do you want to get married?
Me: No. Not really.
Dad: Whatever you do. I'll support you.
Me: Thanks.
I then call mom.
Mom: What do you want?
Me: I want to come home.
Mom: Then tell me you won't marry that bitch.
Me: I have no intention of getting married. I just told her that to avoid a serious talk. She was going to tell you if I didn't.
Mom: So you're not going to marry her?
Me: No.
Mom seemed satisfied enough with that answer and came and picked me up. Though she made me walk around the corner to avoid having to see Regina. I told Regina that I worked things out with mom without telling her how. In her head, we still were getting married. She was glad I was going home after making peace. Do I know how to handle women or what?
In early March, Regina made another big-time life decision: She decided to join the Baptist church. (She was non-denominational before that.) She might have been all about marrying me and doing other stuff with me, but she certainly wasn't going to let me influence her on other important choices.
Our relationship at this point had two sides. There was the super awesome side where we had a good time with each other. That part was my personal favorite. And then there was the wedding planning side where Regina planned the wedding and I pretended to care. After a few weeks of this, I finally realized it needed to be nipped in the butt. (I know it's bud, but at the time I would have said butt.)
The boiling point came on Wednesday, March 20, 2002. The night of the annual Rummel/Chapelle Challenge. The schools participate in silly games and volleyball to see which school is superior. The girls unite on one side (I remember all 200 of them singing "Angel" by Shaggy really loud in unison. Chicks.), and the guys are on the other side (We had T-shirts made that said: Girls are pretty and smell like flowers. But on the playing field, they get trampled.)
Yeah. This shit was on. Winning side gets to see their student body president pie the opposition's student body president in the face. High school so ruled. I'm kidding. I don't even remember who won.
Anyway, I decided on the car ride to Rummel's gym to tell her that I really didn't think getting married this summer was the best idea in the world. Being the coward that I am, I told her right when we got into the gym. You see, once inside the gym at the Challenge, guys and girls become sworn enemies and can't be seen talking to each other.
Regina retreated to the top corner of the girls' bleachers. She cried the through the whole competition. I tried to have as much fun as possible clowning around at the event. It was going to be a long ride home. That ended up being quiet, but the dropping off was a whole other matter.
When I pulled up into her driveway, she broke down again. She couldn't believe I didn't want to marry her anymore. She felt that that meant I didn't love her anymore. I tried to explain that that wasn't the truth. (You have the word "that" stuck in your head, too?) After 10 minutes of this, it dawned upon me that this conversation would not be short. I turned off the engine. It was 10:30 p.m.
I'm not going to bore you with the details of the rest of the conversation. Because frankly, I've blocked it out. I can tell you that when Regina finally was convinced that I still loved her, kissed me goodbye and went inside, it was no longer Wednesday night. In fact, I had just enough time to drive home, take a shower, put on my school uniform, grab a piece of fruit and get back to Rummel for the opening bell, which was 7:20 a.m. Good thing I didn't have a test Thursday.
Regina and I had been on a roller coaster ride with this marriage situation. It was threatening to tear us apart. That plus the sex thing was becoming a bigger deal. But that was minor stuff compared to what happened next.
Remember when Regina was reluctant to date me in the first place because she had abandonment issues? Well, that Saturday night, Regina revealed to me the reason for that. She holds my hand while we're sitting on her bed.
She begins: "I love you so much. Now, I'm going to let you farther into my soul. (She takes a deep breath.) My dad was a secret government agent. And in 1985, he was flying to the Middle East on a mission when."
TO BE CONTINUED. ...
THE TINA CURSING CORNER
I ask my mom if she saw the story in the Metro section about the rapist getting only 40 years.
Mom: Yeah. That's disgusting. Only 40 years.
Me: What do you think he should have got?
Mom: Hung by the balls.
Mom is upset that someone had already taken the appointment time she normally gets for her nails. "Someone took my goddamn appointment." Then, thirty minutes later. "Who the fuck took my appointment?"
Mom greets me in the living room with a question. "They don't have fucking applications on paper anymore?" She had asked a cashier at Wal-Mart if they were hiring. The cashier told her to see the manager and he would set her up on a computer. Mom fears the computer. "I don't know what I'm doing with those fucking keys."
THE GENE POOL DIP (I MEAN TIP) OF THE WEEK
If you are ever at the Clearview Mall, try out this little trick. Go to the food court and find the seats in the middle section. Have one person sit at the table in the left corner close to the food. Have another person sit in the right corner away from the food. Then, talk in a regular voice toward the center of the table.
What's so great about that, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. You can actually hear your friend from the other table, some 30 feet away. It's all because of the dome-like structure hanging over the seats of the food court. I don't understand science, so I can't explain why this happens. I just know that it does.
My friends and I have on occasion ordered some food and sat at opposite ends of the section. Yet, we have a normal conversation. I think this whole experience could be a seventh-grade field trip. Watch a movie. Get lunch. See science in action.
We haven't done this since Paul transferred to the Elmwood Palace. We should definitely do it again sometime, though. For even more excitement, get a few people and sit together at one of these tables. Then, wait for other people to sit at the other table. Don't say a word. Just eavesdrop on their conversation. You can learn a lot about people. Though, it is mostly teenagers there. Kids these days are freaky, yo. Or so I've heard from listening in.
PARTING SHOT
Derry answers the phone. Derry is the former AFL writers association president.
Derry: I can't hear you. (Pause. Then, he gets excited) Oh, hey. How you doing? (Derry leaves the work area to finish the call).
JRap (in a confident manner): It's Andy Kelly. (Kelly is a former VooDoo quarterback who Derry had a good reporter-player relationship with.)
THE DAILY TOP LIST
My top five personal sports villains.
5) Derek Jeter. Yankees shortstop.
The leader of the Evil Empire. I have a Gatorade ad from an old Sports Illustrated hanging in my room that has a picture of Jeter and the word "Loser" across the page. The other page of the ad has an explanation, but I just kept that page in the magazine.
4) Mike Krzyzewski. Duke basketball coach.
Anybody remember the last time Coach K and Duke got past the Sweet 16? It was way back in 2004. How sweet is that? Just too sweet.
3) Tim Duncan/Tony Parker/Manu Ginobili. Spurs Big Three.
These bastards ripped my heart out live last year at the Nest. Even before that, though, I was cheering against this team all decade. They are old and boring. And, oh yeah. Three wussies who bitch too much.
2) Nick Saban. Alabama football coach.
See Thursday's blog for my feelings on Nicholas Satan. I mean Benedict Saban.
1) Brett Favre. N.Y. Jets quarterback.
You knew he would be No. 1, right? Now that the greatest player of all-time is in the AFC, do you think FOX misses using Favre Cam every week? You know, where they show Favre's reaction to every single play when he's on the sidelines.
THE TINA CURSING CORNER
I ask my mom if she saw the story in the Metro section about the rapist getting only 40 years.
Mom: Yeah. That's disgusting. Only 40 years.
Me: What do you think he should have got?
Mom: Hung by the balls.
Mom is upset that someone had already taken the appointment time she normally gets for her nails. "Someone took my goddamn appointment." Then, thirty minutes later. "Who the fuck took my appointment?"
Mom greets me in the living room with a question. "They don't have fucking applications on paper anymore?" She had asked a cashier at Wal-Mart if they were hiring. The cashier told her to see the manager and he would set her up on a computer. Mom fears the computer. "I don't know what I'm doing with those fucking keys."
THE GENE POOL DIP (I MEAN TIP) OF THE WEEK
If you are ever at the Clearview Mall, try out this little trick. Go to the food court and find the seats in the middle section. Have one person sit at the table in the left corner close to the food. Have another person sit in the right corner away from the food. Then, talk in a regular voice toward the center of the table.
What's so great about that, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. You can actually hear your friend from the other table, some 30 feet away. It's all because of the dome-like structure hanging over the seats of the food court. I don't understand science, so I can't explain why this happens. I just know that it does.
My friends and I have on occasion ordered some food and sat at opposite ends of the section. Yet, we have a normal conversation. I think this whole experience could be a seventh-grade field trip. Watch a movie. Get lunch. See science in action.
We haven't done this since Paul transferred to the Elmwood Palace. We should definitely do it again sometime, though. For even more excitement, get a few people and sit together at one of these tables. Then, wait for other people to sit at the other table. Don't say a word. Just eavesdrop on their conversation. You can learn a lot about people. Though, it is mostly teenagers there. Kids these days are freaky, yo. Or so I've heard from listening in.
PARTING SHOT
Derry answers the phone. Derry is the former AFL writers association president.
Derry: I can't hear you. (Pause. Then, he gets excited) Oh, hey. How you doing? (Derry leaves the work area to finish the call).
JRap (in a confident manner): It's Andy Kelly. (Kelly is a former VooDoo quarterback who Derry had a good reporter-player relationship with.)
THE DAILY TOP LIST
My top five personal sports villains.
5) Derek Jeter. Yankees shortstop.
The leader of the Evil Empire. I have a Gatorade ad from an old Sports Illustrated hanging in my room that has a picture of Jeter and the word "Loser" across the page. The other page of the ad has an explanation, but I just kept that page in the magazine.
4) Mike Krzyzewski. Duke basketball coach.
Anybody remember the last time Coach K and Duke got past the Sweet 16? It was way back in 2004. How sweet is that? Just too sweet.
3) Tim Duncan/Tony Parker/Manu Ginobili. Spurs Big Three.
These bastards ripped my heart out live last year at the Nest. Even before that, though, I was cheering against this team all decade. They are old and boring. And, oh yeah. Three wussies who bitch too much.
2) Nick Saban. Alabama football coach.
See Thursday's blog for my feelings on Nicholas Satan. I mean Benedict Saban.
1) Brett Favre. N.Y. Jets quarterback.
You knew he would be No. 1, right? Now that the greatest player of all-time is in the AFC, do you think FOX misses using Favre Cam every week? You know, where they show Favre's reaction to every single play when he's on the sidelines.
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