I went out to the 11th annual Beware-o the Sombrero tournament this morning. The tournament registration started at 7:45 am, in the far East Bay, about a 45 minute drive away, prompting me to ask Kris, "WHY? WHY, OH, why do we get up earlier for ultimate than we do in real life? Why?"

He just laughed.

So, I sent the tournament director an email requesting late registration. Whoo-hoo! I started at 9:00 am instead of 8:00 am like everyone else, though I actually arrived at 9:15. Boo. I did manage a couple points in the first game, which we won.

We also won the second game. And the third. The third game was the most interesting, as one of the opponents was a Jam guy, and another one was a Slow White woman. I was surprised at how many people said, "Wow! She's good!" about the Slow White woman, as all I could see her do is huck the disc away. Sure, she could throw the disc far, but throwing a disc far is worthless if no one actually catches her throws. shrug

My teammates were a lot of fun. There was a Pleasure Town player, a few UCLA players, some local players that recognized me, Ellie (Adam Fagin's friend who sprained her ankle at the Sunnyvale Savage Seven tournament), and Immay! (that would be Jimmy Wang).

I ended up leaving after the third game. It was cold. It was wet. We had four other women. I hadn't dropped or thrown away the disc, so hey, leave on an up note. Jimmy sent me an update about the rest of the day:

Hi Kitt,

We won all of our pool play games and lost in the finals.

We had a tough game in round 5 against a team who was also undefeated.
We were trading points most of the game and was up by a break at the
half. We squeezed by 11 to 9 at the soft cap.

Game 6 was initially close, but we pulled away after the half. The
game ended on a sad note when one of their women was clobbered in the
back of the head by a poach D when she made the catch on a floaty
hospital pass.

The final was 11/7 or 11/6. We had taken half at 6/4, but then an
apparent score by us was called back by a pick that was seemingly not
involved in the play. We lost momentum and they went on a scoring
streak to win the game.

Glad you could come out,
Jimmy

andy: I think I need to write a program to calculate Dudo odds
kitt: real men calculate those odds in their heads
andy: after doing the calculations in excel the first time

I really need to learn to leave well enough alone sometimes. I really do.

When we first moved into the house, there was an ugly faux-brass light fixture thingy in the dining area.

I took it down about six months later, disliking the way it looked, and intending to put a lighted fan up soon after to help with the summer heat. Fans are great when you don't like air conditioners.

Well, I didn't find a fan I liked for another 2 years. By the time I did find one, however, I realized that I couldn't actually hang it up because the junction box didn't seem likely to be able to support the weight of the fan, much less the motion of it. Couple that realization with the realization we should have the house rewired, and the light fixture stayed two wires hanging from the ceiling.

Fast forward another few years to a roommate, and the wires are still there. Said roomie, Heather, comments on them every once in a while, wondering when we're going to fix the problem.

Oh, that? Yeah, I guess we should, eh?

Recently, we've been inspired by Andy's handyman work around his house. So, inspired, that we let him install our Smith-provided thermostat. Yay, us!

Really, though, he's inspired us (that, and practicing on the Indiana house), so we decided to install a temporary light since we weren't comfortable with the fan going up yet. So, we bought a light fixture, brought it home, opened it up, and went to install it.

To discover the light junction box is actually 1" too narrow for the fixture. Somehow, we managed a super-small, half-size light box for our dining area light. Great. Just great.

Andy offered to replace it, but wondered how the installed one was currently attached. Let's find out, I said, and brought out a hammer to pull out the nails and a screw driver to remove the screws. Was I really afraid the box wouldn't support the fan? I shouldn't have been. I could hang from that junction box without fear of falling, it was in there so well.

Well, was. It's not now.

Yeah, that's MUCH better than the two wires sticking out. MUCH.

Dad sent me a debit card for Christmas. He sent all the kids the same gift, mailed from the same place. Chris' didn't arrive: it was stolen somewhere between the mailing origination and the post office near Chris' house. I don't know about B's card. Mine arrived just fine, tucked in a card.

I'm strangely excited about this gift. It feels like the start of a school year: full of promise and new beginnings. There are so many things I can do with this card, so many purchases I can make.

I could buy a technical book at Amazon, read it and become more knowledgable.

I could buy an entertaining book, read it and become more relaxed (unless it's one of THOSE, we know how relaxing I find them).

I could pay for an hour massage, and have enough left over for one for Kris - then I would be really relaxed.

I could buy plants at the nursery and plant them in the yard. Every time I looked at them, I'd think lovingly of my dad.

I could buy a plane ticket back to Indiana to visit him.

I could buy a really, really fancy meal for Kris and me (or, just let Mike buy that one).

I could buy stock with the money, watching it grow over the years.

I could buy two dozen or more domain names and continue on my site-a-month goal (this site being the first one I've done, yay, schedule!).

I could buy a stained glass window to hang in front of one of the livingroom windows

Oh, the possibilities are limitless! The choices are all exciting. I've always thought the best gift is one that someone wants but wouldn't purchase for himself. Pretty sure most of those qualify here, since I've cut down my spending from things I want to just the things I need. I've been impressed with how much less consumerism there is in my life, and Kris' buy extension, by not buying stuff on whims. If it'll be used and its necessary, I'll buy it. Otherwise, I'll imagine owning it, imagine the brief joy of ownership, then move on. One less thing to discard later, one less distraction to deal with.

What I find most interesting about this gift from Dad is that the debit card comes with strings attached: I have six months to spend the money, or fees start coming out of the balance. Hefty fees, too: more than 10% of the card's remaining balance a year.

Perhaps that's Dad's way of making sure I actually spend his Christmas gift. I still have the check he wrote to me for Christmas of 1999. It's on pretty yellow paper. Too pretty to cash.