Chat Stati...

"Only the hot girls like it when you smash the Risk table. The uggos hate it." - from the Drawing Game after a particularly feisty game of Risk where the girls pwned the boys and they got all salty.

Back In The Game

The stove is heating up fo sho! Usually post-Christmas/New Year's is a time for bemoaning the extra weight gain and freezing one's ass off. But not this year! The Sox are starting to make moves and maybe I'm just that desperate for a shot, but at least they are making moves. The silence in the immediate off-season was deafening. Granted, I'm still pretty suspicious of the people they've signed - Cameron, Scutaro, Beltre - but if the Mike Lowell deal has taught me anything, it's that you just never know. And they are coming in to expectations, certainly, but also to a great deal of skepticism. Which only gives them room to prove themselves or be benched like Kotchman. My only question is why Theo seems hell bent on packing the team with midgets?

Additionally, winter meetings are underway for our softball team. Last season was a fucking ordeal and a half, but we had a solid team and we waltzed away with the championship. This year, I'm looking to improve not only the quality, but also the character of the team. It will be interesting to see who returns and who we will get to improve in their stead. We will miss Wieters who was traded to NY. We will miss Toolbox's bat but not his asshattery. We will not even realize that Douchebag is gone. Some free agents are likely to sign with other teams and we wish them well. But I'm excited to reconvene the team! Go Mass Mayhem!!!

G-Chat Statuses...Stati...

So many gems, so little space. So I'll just have to commemorate them on this blog. Here are a few choice ones:

if there was ever an appropriate time for a karmic reacharound... - MP

the time i put in for running is the only amount of time i'm willing to put in bettering myself physically - LJ

It's like Douchebag Week on Animal Planet...and it's only Tuesday. - me

you're like me but with a penis and less spectacular boobies - me to MP

i want mouse ears... and cotton candy... and mickey's autograph... and a real elephant i can pretend is dumbo and then beat savagely for all its failed attempts at flying... and a daisy duck snuff film... and a buzz lightyear action figure! - MP

Enjoy!

What's In A Name

For my birthday last year, I invited everyone to MAYhem at the Middlesex because it was the wittiest alliteration I could think of as I was composing the Facebook invite. But it stuck and between the alcohol, 15 cameras and non-stop dance party, people would always recall how much fun they had by saying, "Remember MAYhem at the Middlesex?" So when it came time to name my softball team, my work husband said to me, why don't you just name it after yourself - name it Mayhem! And so I did. But in true Masshole fashion, I also paid allegiance to my adopted home. I figured the name Boston Red Sox was already taken, so Mass Mayhem seemed like the next best option.

Putting the team together was hard work. It wasn't hard because I had to comb through craigslist listing after craigslist listing, or read email after email fraught with poor grammar. It was hard because I was determined to find people who were similarly devoted to and passionate about rec league softball (no mean feat) but who still had a sense of humor about the whole thing. And for the most part, I succeeded beyond my greatest hopes and expectations. It wasn't even like the team was trying to make me feel better, but by virtue of being the way they are, they were the one thing that kept me afloat in what was probably the most difficult time of my life. I cannot begin to recount the ridiculous in-jokes that were rehashed ad nauseum, the quiet words of encouragement, the loud insults that were really encouragement, the unyielding butt pats, the bear hugs, all the things that made the team the team. They were my family in a time when there was a massive void of stability in my life. Was I the best captain and manager they could have had? Hell no, I was an emotional wreck most of the time and I didn't know what the fuck I was doing all the time. But God bless them, they all stood by me and trusted me with making the best decisions for the team. Well, not all of them. But that's another story.

When I agreed to be on the relay team, I invited the then-boyfriend and another member of Mass Mayhem to join. One of the captains of the relay team was a member of Mass Mayhem, so when the other captain asked me if it would be ok for the relay team to adopt the moniker, I figured, why not? What harm could it do? Clearly, hindsight is 20 fucking 20. Being on the relay team probably marked my lowest point of the summer. It was the culmination of a bad relationship, a spiraling depression, vapid people, and a lack of emotional support. I left the entire experience practically suicidal. And by that time, the softball season was over and I missed the real camaraderie of my team.

Months have since passed and while I really like a number of people on the relay team, I'm more ambivalent about others, and downright rancorous about the rest. So when the time came to start registering for upcoming races, I told the captain that I wanted out and that I wanted them to stop using my name. Is it more than slightly petty and selfish of me to do that? I won't dispute it. Especially when the now ex-boyfriend is part of the relay team and I want absolutely nothing to do with him. But the truth is, the name means a great deal to me. It means a team, friendship, family. And there is only one Mass Mayhem. Just like there is only one Boston Red Sox or New York Yankees or Chicago Cubs. The players might change but the team stands for something. That's why the fans go back year after year, win or lose, rain or shine. Because the team represents something they believe in, something greater than themselves. The name is part of me; it is the best part of me that I've given to the team. And whether or not I'm still here in two seasons, I know that the spirit of Mass Mayhem will live on in the people I will entrust it to and in the people they will eventually entrust it to. The relay team on the other hand, is like the firms I had worked at before - they simply are what they are and even though I hated them because I didn't fit in, someone somewhere will and life will be dandy for them there. The only difference here is that the relay team bears my name but it bears nothing of what I believe in. And I would like to reclaim that part of me that all but survived the last six months.

21 Minutes...

...to my 31st birthday. This has been a shit year, no doubt about that. I think back to my birthday last year and I don't think I could have foreseen how much of a tumble I would take. Things were decent then and I had hoped that they would get better. And if I were to compare date to date, I'd say that things are actually better today than a year ago. But fucking hell, the sewage that I had to wade through in the months between was raw and vile. I hope never to repeat that experience again and I hold Jeff to his promise that in a year, life will be fanfreakingtastic.

Apart from the obligatory devastations (i.e. job loss, excruciating relationship, even more excruciating break-up, emotional breakdown, etc.), there were the added indignations of the Sox completely sucking the big one. Really guys? The one year that I really needed you to man up and give me something to believe in because my entire life was crashing down around me, you decide to collectively choke on it. But it's all right. Like an abusive relationship, I keep coming back for more. Maybe I need to not apply my attitude towards the Sox to my general approach to actual relationships...

But enough moaning about crap that has already happened. I won't say that looking at the year ahead doesn't fill me with trepidation, but I am grateful for all the great things this past year has brought, even while the walls were crashing down around me. And if there were good things to celebrate, maybe I can hold on to those for a while as I move into another chapter.

1. I ran 3 half-marathons and PRed at 1:55 at Applefest.

2. I captained a softball team to championship glory.

3. I didn't die (no really, this one could have happened and not by my own doing, if you were wondering).

4. I have a job I actually like for the first time since I left law school.

5. I've been accepted at all of the LLM programs I applied to and my first choice gave me a scholarship.

6. I met some amazing people (understatement of the year).

7. My new health insurance is fantastic (btw, you know you're getting old when health insurance makes it onto your list of awesome things...).

One of my biggest frustrations is feeling like I haven't done enough or accomplished anything of true importance. I don't know if I can ever shake that feeling. But I can try meeting it. And if you know me, it's never been about money, or status, or bling. It's always been about love, friends, and helping someone in need. And this year is about ME. I'm the person in need, I'm the person who needs to be front and center of me. I'm running a marathon for my personal gratification (and there is a certain about of sadistic joy in making my running partner go along for the ride). I'm hanging out with people I love because it makes me happy but I'm also reaching out to people I love when I'm not happy because that's what they are there for, goddammit. Yes, I do count the Sox winning the World Series the greatest thing that has ever happened to me thus far and no, I'm not embarrassed about it. If you can't let yourself believe in something bigger than you, if you can't just love without fear, or hope despite a near certitude of devastation, then you're the one I feel sorry for. Here's to another Sox/Mass Mayhem victory, and to a surprising and happy year ahead.

Mass Mayhem is 2009 Boston Champions!!!

After months of practice, hours of playing time, blood, sweat, meltdowns, and tears, our softball team finally emerged victorious. We are officially the 2009 EMAAC Boston Division Champions. And as usual, I am a Rubix cube of emotions. I am relieved that a very long season is over, along with its challenges (or rather, challenging people) and time demands. I am ecstatic that all our hard work paid off and our awesomeness as a team, not just as a solid playing team, is rewarded with this magnificent achievement. I am stunned that I'm actually part of, heck, that I orchestrated, at least in part, a team that brought home the championship. It's not really something I do, you know...win anything.

And of course, I am sad that it all has to come to an end. It's been a tremendous season of getting to know some extraordinary people, most of whom I would never have met if it hadn't been for this team and by whom my life has been greatly enriched. I don't think I've ever been so enveloped by a group of people with such gentle, nurturing natures, raucous senses of humor, and keen senses of friendship and camaraderie. It has been overwhelming and a true blessing. So to think that my time with them, at least in this configuration, is over, is bittersweet indeed. I know that I've made some lasting friendships and deepened others, and I'm excited to see how our paths will continue to cross. Some, and you know who you are, will never be able to be rid of me...

But my wistfulness isn't just because of the end of the season or weekly interactions, but from looking back at all the changes that have occurred since the team was formed. It just reminds me of how much has happened in the past few months, and not all were good happenings. When I look back at this time in the not-so-distant future, I want to be able to count the team as one of the highlights of that period of my life; one of the sustaining things that helped me through A Dark Time. And I want to be able to characterize the past few months as A Dark Time to delineate when the Dark Time ended and the Rest Of My Life began again.

But for now, I'll obsessively look at photos of us in action and wear the crap out of my EMAAC Champions t-shirt. Until the next season.

Tito Has It Good

I love my softball team. I handpicked each player because of their abilities and personalities. The one person I had reservations about including has since proven that I am a good judge of character and should ALWAYS listen to my gut. I'm the captain and the manager of the team. What that means is I do the logistics and generally make the executive decisions. But I realize that I probably know less about softball than most of my team, so I tend to defer to them when they have tactical suggestions. The difference between the rest of my team and this one black sheep is that everyone is easy-going and actually cares about the team and the other players; this one black sheep is mostly concerned about him. He's on the team, so he wants to win but he has no qualms about doing whatever to win, be it cutting players who don't meet his standards, or switching the positions on his own whim. He doesn't understand the concept of respect or communication and it is driving me crazy. I've been trying to let it go since the season is winding down, but once again he is trying to tell me and the team what to do. I want to set him straight but it really isn't worth it. People like him will never get it and I don't see the point in trying to do anything.

I'm sure Tito has had to deal with a lot of shit from his players. I'm sure he has gotten squeezed from the players on one side and the management on the other, but you know what? That's his effing job and he gets PAID. And he gets to win championships and get glory, and yes, criticism as well, but being the manager of a major league baseball team is an honor and a privilege. As I said, I love my team and I love being in charge of the team, but I'm just a schmuck who does it for the love of the game. So this motherfucker needs to get off my goddam back before I blow a fuse and pitch him in the head!