Earning my URL

I'm hanging out with young adult peeps from church, like at a classy fair, kind of? It had the feeling of a ballpark concourse, but I don't remember being at a game. I might've had to decide between the church friends and friends from HS, cuz I remember my HS friends Scott, Nina, and Wiese being there. Charles (church friend) tells me to get him a cinnamon roll from the cooler (aka, walk-in fridge). Evidently, we're standing right by the cooler door. I walk in, and it's like a beautiful bakery or kitchen, only cold. It's all stone, with a hearth and a gorgeous granite island and granite countertops. The only light that's on is shining down on the island. As I look around I see glass cases (kinda like a grocer's freezer? even though the food wasn't frozen?). In the cases are cakes, sweet breads, and the cinnamon rolls I'm supposed to get for Charles. At one point, I walk by an oven, and there's freshly baked cookies inside. I start slicing thin pieces off various cakes and breads from the cases, and of course have to take a cookie. Suddenly I realize I've been in there awhile, and I wonder if others wonder where I am. I figure nah, they won't notice I'm gone. Except maybe Charles ... who wants his roll. I overhear him talking about how I've taken way too long and he's kind of mad. I think, huh, I didn't think Charles could get mad.

I'm in the city, walking from Ogilvie train station with Riane and Lissa. Lissa's looking for a steak sandwich place, and takes off in one direction, but I'm all no, it's this way—I know cuz I was just here. I think I end up following Lissa anyway, and we end up in a department store close to the station. I see Melissa, Jed, and Eva Davis and Sig Ostby in the store (friends from HS, their daughter, and Melissa's mom). I hug them all, because it's totally unexpected that I run into them in the city, and I haven't seen them in awhile. We catch up a little, then Sig says, these guys need to be in a wedding! (Pointing to Melissa and Jed.) I'm like um ok. Whose wedding? She's all, yours! With a hearty laugh I say, good luck with that! (Note: This felt like a kinder, weirder version of "why aren't you married yet.")

I'm in an apartment—I guess it's mine. (It's not my apt. in real life.) I have CDs stacked high on this table, along with my CD player. People are coming over so I feel the need to organize them, then I change my mind, reasoning that at least they're all stacked on a pile. I remember wanting Russ and Clay (work friends) to see my wide selection of quality CDs. Then suddenly/randomly, I'm pretty much in the movie Scream. Neve Campbell, Courtney Cox, and David Arquette are there, discussing whether or not this was Scream 4. I think I said, no, they're not making another one, to calm my fears, but they kept getting threatening/scary notes from the new killer ... so I guess I was wrong.

Then I'm at home with my family. I need to go to the bathroom, but I'm scared of being alone where the killer can get me. I ask Amy (my little sister) to go with me. We go upstairs to my old room, where apparently there's a bathroom now. (Although it wasn't so much a bathroom as it was a toilet in my bedroom, like a new piece of furniture.) Before I use it, I check behind the toilet, using an old newspaper to sweep behind it (hoping to strike first by giving the killer a papercut). Nothing. I then try behind the desk, which is by the toilet. Again, nada. One more time—behind the dresser, which is to the left of the desk. This time, I see ... someone!!! My sister and I "scream" and frantically run down the stairs, looking back to see who it is as he stands up from behind the dresser. He has a gun, and it's pointed at us. And ... it's Vince Gill. As we run downstairs, we shout, "Vince Gill with a gun! Vince Gill with a gun!" to warn everyone.

I'm in a stadium—it might be Willow—to hear my Judson psych prof, Professor Currie speak. I see a lot of other people there I know: Jen and Leigh (should need no introduction), Holly and Dan (youth leader/small group friends), and Stef and Jon (friends from college). After his speech/sermon, Prof Currie asks me to babysit his kids. I'm all, sure. Leigh's like, I want your job! I say, it's not that bigga deal. Then later on, Michael Jordan is the speaker, and asks me to babysit his kids. I'm not sure how Leigh knew this was coming ... it's like she was expecting to be jealous of my job, but got them mixed up. MJ talks about how he regrets all those years in the NBA, cuz even though he was the most amazing player ever, he didn't feel like he was a good dad during those years, and he's paying for it now. Also, after Currie's speech, Jon, Stef, and I sing one of his memory songs he taught us in class at Judson, with motions: "short-term memory has seven spaces, plus or minus two! short-term memory has seven spaces, plus or minus two! ... "

Then I'm driving Hope and Emma (youth group girls) in a van, somewhere in the mountains, or a really hilly area. They're scared we'll drive off a hill, cuz they're REALLY high and curvy, with no shoulder or gate, and it's foggy.

Real Life Alert: Let the Players Play

Sporting News:

—Mad props to my little sister, the little scholastic athlete. I didn't even have to punch her. Also, why did I not stick with softball? Oh yeah, cuz I wanted to be all dramatic and do the spring musical my junior and senior years of HS. And cuz my coach hated me.

—It's way fun going to a Sox game with Kelly Dexter, Paul "Spontaneous" Schmitt, and my usual go-to Sox girl Leigh. Also fun to sit Paul and Leigh next to each other for the sole purpose of the Konerko chant with slightly altered spelling: "PAUL-LEIGH! PAUL-LEIGH!" And free tix + Comiskey cash + my dad is cool = my dad is really, really cool.

—On the fourth, post-Wheaton parade and post-sunburn, pre-BBQ and pre-more-sunburn, I crashed on the couch and watched about four minutes of World Cup action—featuring the Germans vs. the Italians. A few thoughts in my semi-conscious state: a) it's the drinkers vs. the eaters (from a way-back conversation with KB and Mel, discussing my heritage) b) who do I root for? since I'm a quarter Italian and three-quarters German, is rooting for Italy like rooting for the underdog? c) is this like me battling myself? and whatever the outcome, I'm a winner and a loser at the same time? Kind of like being "employee of the month"? and d) I'm pretty sure this is the only four minutes I will ever care about soccer. This was obviously too much thinking, because a nap promptly ensued.

—In other soccer news, Jason Thorwall is currently debating whether or not his fiancee's recent coming out of the soccer (and lacrosse?!) fandom closet is a deal-breaker. He has until August 6th to decide.