j

In case all three of you are wondering, I can’t sleep because of that hilarious feral cat that lives underneath my stairs. I am now about 70% sure that he/she is living outside my window. I can hear it playing with our chain link fence. Also, in other news, I think my BlackBerry might be sentient. So. Yikes.

I also can’t sleep because I keep thinking about ultimate and everything about it is keeping me up. I’m replaying a lot of old stuff in my head — past teams, past highs, past regrets, past adventures. I’m excited about the club season coming up, and *knock on wood* for the first time ever in the history of my summer league career, I’m on a team that’s both fun and good. I don’t want to get too ahead of myself, but I think it’s going to be a great summer for ultimate. I’ll share all of these amazing thoughts (read: boring, trite, and long-winded) soon — I’m doing some traveling with my family, and me being stuck in a hotel room with an entire family of snorers always results in me, sitting in the bathroom, writing late into the night.

For now though, I thought I’d share some more whimsical thoughts with you. Chansicle and I were discussing our lives post-ultimate (strange and unusual, no?), and I think we both agree that competitive ultimate will not be in our plans for too many more summers, but we’d still like to play and have fun. And of course, my years-long dream of starting my own team always comes up again. Let me clarify — I don’t think I ever want to captain a serious team again. But I do want to start a team for major lolz and shenanigans with my friends. Here are the themed teams I am thinking of starting, in alphabetical order:

The Justin Bieber Experience
This one is for Fozz, who coached a B-Team dedicated to The Biebster himself. I’m debating what we should do about the hair. I feel like asking everyone to commit to a Justin Bieber haircut might be too much, but sacrifices have to be made if you want to be a champion. We would wear skinny jeans (negotiable during the summer months… perhaps we’ll wear jorts), deep v-necks (“I heard those are in”, lawl), and those obnoxious American Apparel hoodies. Yeah, you know which ones I’m talking about.

La Muerte
This was my original theme idea when we were talking about getting new jerseys back in ’08. (So of course we had to go the opposite direction and go all white. *eye roll* Now let’s pretend like I don’t constantly wear all white from head to toe on tournament Sundays…) I wanted to get our jerseys in ALL BLACK. And on the front, there would be a graphic of a person laying out into a coffin. That graphic would also be in black. We would have black shorts, and the numbers would be in a bones-font, and on the other leg there would be a skull and crossbones, obviously everything in black. There isn’t so much of a theme to this team, so much as I just wanted all black jerseys that make you look super XxhardxcorexX and tuff. Cleat color is negotiable, I suppose. Also, we would never smile, never celebrate in a happy way, and we’d get mad TMFs.

(Side note: Does it surprise anyone that I used to have multiple screennames, blogs, and e-mail addresses that looked a whole lot like XxhardxcorexX? Also Xx____silentscreambangbangspinkicktothefacedinosaursrawrxX? Okay, that wasn’t a real example, but for crying out-freaking-loud my old e-mail address was artificialxcure. Embarrassing. I used to listen to the loudest, metal-est bands with the hardest, most death-related names possible. It was terrible. I also covered a From Autumn to Ashes song with my band, Thug Lyfe, at our final performance. It was good, if I may say so myself. There is a video of it. But ignore that I am wearing a band t-shirt, Dickies, and a chain. Truly emburrussing. Don’t act like you’re surprised. We probably would have been friends in high school, whatever.)

Mean Girls
My team dedicated to the greatest movie of all time. Of all my harebrained theme team ideas, this one has been my most thought-out to date. It helps that I have already been given so much to work with. I have so much to work with in fact, that I need to bullet-point this ish:

• We will have many jerseys. One of which will be tank tops with holes where the nips should be and army pants and flip flops.
• A big problem for our team is that we can only wear our hair in ponytails one day a week.
• We practice on Wednesdays, in our pink shirts.
• We cannot wear tank tops two days in a row.
• We can only wear track pants or sweats on Fridays.
• One girl on the team has to wear hoop earrings, and no one else can wear them because hoop earrings are her thing. You can’t wear them even if your parents get you really expensive white gold hoops for Chanukkah.
• While in season, every girl has to be on an all-carb diet, and each girl will take turns bringing Kalteen bars as sideline snacks to tournaments.
• There will be a burn book. And even though we’ll pretend to be nice and tell you that we love your jersey and we want to know where you got it, we’ll write that it’s the ugliest effing jersey we’ve ever seen. And that we can’t trust you and that you’re a fugly slut. And also that you are a grotsky little biotch who made out with both Coach Carr and a hot dog. We’ll put it in the book.

There are many more stipulations, but I’m not sure why I’m telling you, cause we probably won’t invite you to sit with us anyway. Sorry ’bout it. I don’t hate you cause you’re fat, you’re fat cause I hate you.

Señor Briefcase
This would be a mixed team, just to make sure the name is relevant. But this is my all-Asian team idea. And I suppose we may take Asian sympathizers, notable examples being Tea-Bag and Margaret. Jersey design is the same as the original Mr. Briefcase jersey design, but with a sombrero perched jauntily atop the briefcase.

Team America
This may also end up being a mixed team. Basically: cutoff jorts. Our darks would be some sort of cutoff shirt, and our whites would be white wife beaters. Trucker hats are a must, obviously, each modeled after a Frank Rossitano hat. I’ve got dibs on the following: Wet Taco, Karate Sluts, Emotional Friend, Why., Night Beast, and Nap Partner.

[I’m also toying with calling this team Dziedzic Family Reunion, named after my favorite high school APUSH teacher. We were watching a video in class about socio-economic distinctions in the US, and as we began a scene about some rednecks having a redneck festival, Mr. Dziedzic remarked, “Oh, Dziedzic family reunion!” If you can’t already tell, I loved that guy. Once, he tried to sell us World’s Finest Chocolate bars in class as part of his chess team fundraiser (or something like that), and he said, “World’s Finest Chocolate — keeps the sex offenders away.” We also sat by each other once at a Sox game (unplanned) and high-fived after a Paul Konerko home run. Then I told everyone at school about it the next day but no one believed me but Mr. D so gamely confirmed it for all the haters. He also came to my house once for a car wash fundraiser I had, and he sat in my garage with me and my friends and we watched the Sox kill the Cubs. He also thought me and my best friend Laura Nelson were lesbians because she was in the fourth period US class and I was in fifth, but she would always stay late/I would always show up early so we could make faces/hearts at each other and hold hands and talk about our/each other’s crotches. Yeah. So.]

Also, and I don’t really have a name for this team, but I think it would be hilarious to start a team with a bunch of other severe asthmatics. You know, people like me who require multiple puffs per game. None of that, “I only use my inhaler during allergy season” garbage.

Anyway, now that I’ve had a good laugh, I think I might finally be able to manufacture the zzzz’s…

In case all three of you are wondering, I can’t sleep because of that hilarious feral cat that lives underneath my stairs. I am now about 70% sure that he/she is living outside my window. I can hear it playing with our chain link fence. Also, in other news, I think my BlackBerry might be sentient. So. Yikes.

I also can’t sleep because I keep thinking about ultimate and everything about it is keeping me up. I’m replaying a lot of old stuff in my head — past teams, past highs, past regrets, past adventures. I’m excited about the club season coming up, and *knock on wood* for the first time ever in the history of my summer league career, I’m on a team that’s both fun and good. I don’t want to get too ahead of myself, but I think it’s going to be a great summer for ultimate. I’ll share all of these amazing thoughts (read: boring, trite, and long-winded) soon — I’m doing some traveling with my family, and me being stuck in a hotel room with an entire family of snorers always results in me, sitting in the bathroom, writing late into the night.

For now though, I thought I’d share some more whimsical thoughts with you. Chansicle and I were discussing our lives post-ultimate (strange and unusual, no?), and I think we both agree that competitive ultimate will not be in our plans for too many more summers, but we’d still like to play and have fun. And of course, my years-long dream of starting my own team always comes up again. Let me clarify — I don’t think I ever want to captain a serious team again. But I do want to start a team for major lolz and shenanigans with my friends. Here are the themed teams I am thinking of starting, in alphabetical order:

The Justin Bieber Experience
This one is for Fozz, who coached a B-Team dedicated to The Biebster himself. I’m debating what we should do about the hair. I feel like asking everyone to commit to a Justin Bieber haircut might be too much, but sacrifices have to be made if you want to be a champion. We would wear skinny jeans (negotiable during the summer months… perhaps we’ll wear jorts), deep v-necks (“I heard those are in”, lawl), and those obnoxious American Apparel hoodies. Yeah, you know which ones I’m talking about.

La Muerte
This was my original theme idea when we were talking about getting new jerseys back in ’08. (So of course we had to go the opposite direction and go all white. *eye roll* Now let’s pretend like I don’t constantly wear all white from head to toe on tournament Sundays…) I wanted to get our jerseys in ALL BLACK. And on the front, there would be a graphic of a person laying out into a coffin. That graphic would also be in black. We would have black shorts, and the numbers would be in a bones-font, and on the other leg there would be a skull and crossbones, obviously everything in black. There isn’t so much of a theme to this team, so much as I just wanted all black jerseys that make you look super XxhardxcorexX and tuff. Cleat color is negotiable, I suppose. Also, we would never smile, never celebrate in a happy way, and we’d get mad TMFs.

(Side note: Does it surprise anyone that I used to have multiple screennames, blogs, and e-mail addresses that looked a whole lot like XxhardxcorexX? Also Xx____silentscreambangbangspinkicktothefacedinosaursrawrxX? Okay, that wasn’t a real example, but for crying out-freaking-loud my old e-mail address was artificialxcure. Embarrassing. I used to listen to the loudest, metal-est bands with the hardest, most death-related names possible. It was terrible. I also covered a From Autumn to Ashes song with my band, Thug Lyfe, at our final performance. It was good, if I may say so myself. There is a video of it. But ignore that I am wearing a band t-shirt, Dickies, and a chain. Truly emburrussing. Don’t act like you’re surprised. We probably would have been friends in high school, whatever.)

Mean Girls
My team dedicated to the greatest movie of all time. Of all my harebrained theme team ideas, this one has been my most thought-out to date. It helps that I have already been given so much to work with. I have so much to work with in fact, that I need to bullet-point this ish:

• We will have many jerseys. One of which will be tank tops with holes where the nips should be and army pants and flip flops.
• A big problem for our team is that we can only wear our hair in ponytails one day a week.
• We practice on Wednesdays, in our pink shirts.
• We cannot wear tank tops two days in a row.
• We can only wear track pants or sweats on Fridays.
• One girl on the team has to wear hoop earrings, and no one else can wear them because hoop earrings are her thing. You can’t wear them even if your parents get you really expensive white gold hoops for Chanukkah.
• While in season, every girl has to be on an all-carb diet, and each girl will take turns bringing Kalteen bars as sideline snacks to tournaments.
• There will be a burn book. And even though we’ll pretend to be nice and tell you that we love your jersey and we want to know where you got it, we’ll write that it’s the ugliest effing jersey we’ve ever seen. And that we can’t trust you and that you’re a fugly slut. And also that you are a grotsky little biotch who made out with both Coach Carr and a hot dog. We’ll put it in the book.

There are many more stipulations, but I’m not sure why I’m telling you, cause we probably won’t invite you to sit with us anyway. Sorry ’bout it. I don’t hate you cause you’re fat, you’re fat cause I hate you.

Señor Briefcase
This would be a mixed team, just to make sure the name is relevant. But this is my all-Asian team idea. And I suppose we may take Asian sympathizers, notable examples being Tea-Bag and Margaret. Jersey design is the same as the original Mr. Briefcase jersey design, but with a sombrero perched jauntily atop the briefcase.

Team America
This may also end up being a mixed team. Basically: cutoff jorts. Our darks would be some sort of cutoff shirt, and our whites would be white wife beaters. Trucker hats are a must, obviously, each modeled after a Frank Rossitano hat. I’ve got dibs on the following: Wet Taco, Karate Sluts, Emotional Friend, Why., Night Beast, and Nap Partner.

[I’m also toying with calling this team Dziedzic Family Reunion, named after my favorite high school APUSH teacher. We were watching a video in class about socio-economic distinctions in the US, and as we began a scene about some rednecks having a redneck festival, Mr. Dziedzic remarked, “Oh, Dziedzic family reunion!” If you can’t already tell, I loved that guy. Once, he tried to sell us World’s Finest Chocolate bars in class as part of his chess team fundraiser (or something like that), and he said, “World’s Finest Chocolate — keeps the sex offenders away.” We also sat by each other once at a Sox game (unplanned) and high-fived after a Paul Konerko home run. Then I told everyone at school about it the next day but no one believed me but Mr. D so gamely confirmed it for all the haters. He also came to my house once for a car wash fundraiser I had, and he sat in my garage with me and my friends and we watched the Sox kill the Cubs. He also thought me and my best friend Laura Nelson were lesbians because she was in the fourth period US class and I was in fifth, but she would always stay late/I would always show up early so we could make faces/hearts at each other and hold hands and talk about our/each other’s crotches. Yeah. So.]

Also, and I don’t really have a name for this team, but I think it would be hilarious to start a team with a bunch of other severe asthmatics. You know, people like me who require multiple puffs per game. None of that, “I only use my inhaler during allergy season” garbage.

Anyway, now that I’ve had a good laugh, I think I might finally be able to manufacture the zzzz’s…

Y’all, next time I get another crazy idea like this, remind me not to go on grand trips whilst poor, especially not if they’re ultimate-related. I’m not kidding. They’re bad for my health, unfriendly to my checking account, and generally detrimental to…