Dear Dirk – Pre Season 2007

It’s been a long lonely summer, but its almost at end!  The signs of fall include not only the chill in the air (although it hasn’t happened yet), the turning of the leaves (this either), and the UPS package with my season tickets.  This has happened!  I know you’ve been staying in shape playing your European ball and visiting home but I can’t wait until you come home. In preparation for this years season, I talked a couple of girlfriends in participating in the NBA 101 for Women sponsored by the team.  I feel that at this point I am almost a basketball expert but it wouldn’t hurt to review some of the basics.  Ok, that’s crap.  I am an expert but if you attend the event they take you into the locker room.  How is it that I could possibly not go.  So after an early work departure, a quick change into my favorite green mavs tee, we head to the arena to get schooled. Frankly most of the event was forgettable.  Actually meeting and talking to Donnie Nelson was interesting,  By far, the best and my most favorite part of the event was the locker room visit and meeting Greg Buckner and Josh Howard.  I’ll have to admit of the two Josh is by far my favorite player.  But as we were able to spend a little time with them,  Greg seemed to have the better, more outgoing personality.  So in my most shy and reserved way I asked,  “So what do you think about older women.”   That got their attention.  “What do you mean?” Greg asked.  “You know what I mean” I tell him.  The rest of the women were shocked but I could tell that Greg and Josh thought I was great.  You’ll find out for yourself when we actually meet!  Its me wrapped around their legs in the group photo!   I was in your locker space.  I sat in your chair (a lot).  I even sniffed the clothes you left hanging.  There was a cheap flip flop on your stand.  I wanted that flip flop.  I told the girls to get in front and block the view.  I was going to slip it into my purse.  I’m sure you wouldn’t mind.  But they started lecturing me,  if you get us kicked out of here! Yadda yadda yadda.  I should’ve done it anyway.  It will be on the true regrets of my life.   Its still another month away but I’m anxiously waiting the beginning of the new season.  This is the one, I feel it!

Just another birthday, but a brand new tattoo!

 

My theory has always been that if you don’t spend your birthday at home then it doesn’t really count as a birthday.  And if that theory holds true then I’m only about 25.  This year the birthday celebration was destined for Vegas and combined with a bachelorette (Hen party for my UK friends) for my mini-me who also just happens to have the same birthday I do. As much fun as that must sounds, trust me traveling and getting 6 women to agree on anything is as much fun as going to the dentist or having your legs waxed.  I’ve learned in my old age to limit the number of females on any one trip to 3.  It’s the magic number but since it wasn’t my bachelorette (and sadly (or gladly depending on how you look at it) will probably never be) I couldn’t make the rules.  Our first night in Vegas started out with dinner and drinks.  After an excruciatingly long dinner, its time to party right?  I’m traveling with 5 other women, the oldest of which is 30.  I’ve got a good decade on all of them.  But this is what I hear…  I’m tired,  I have a routine,  I’ve been up since… blah blah blah.  What’s wrong with young people these days?  Routine?  Routines are for when you are old and you have to schedule around your medication and Depend changes.    Sadly, all of them are in bed by 11.   (One of them has valid excuse she was pregnant.) The next evening was a significant improvement.  My BFF Daisy and her husband showed up.  We split off from the ‘party’ girls for dinner and some real drinking.  Daisy and up meet up with the girls for the official bachelorette party.  We head to the club and party like rock stars.  Everyone manages to stay up to at least midnight!  Whew, I was beginning to worry about these girls.  I woke Monday morning a little worse for wear but it’s my birthday.  I call Daisy and get her up early.  Come on Daisy, meet me at the tattoo parlor.  I’m getting one for my birthday.  Being the loyal friend that she is (she’s not a big fan of the idea), she drags herself out of bed and meets me at the Palms.  We’re one of the first in line and somehow they decide to take me first.  But even so it takes awhile for things to set up.  Daisy keeps complaining, what’s taking them so long.  I’m thinking, hey there’s no rush.  I’m ok with the delay.  Eventually I’m in.  And of course, they put me in the front area so everyone can see.  As if I’m not nervous enough, now everyone can watch me cry like a girl.  Justin and I discuss the design and the location and he’s ready to start.  Do not look at my fat or my stretch marks, I warn him.  My decision to get a tattoo is really for me, so I put it in a place where its not visible to the general public.  This means a I have drop my shorts.  So now I’m going to be half naked and crying in front of everyone else in the store.  Actually, shorts had to just go down a little but I did feel naked and exposed.  It was over in about 15 minutes (I got a small one) and I didn’t cry.  Not once!  My son saw it and was completely disappointed.  He said it was chicken tattoo.  Hey!  What kind of tramp does he think I am!  Birthday wrapped up with a nice dinner and some good luck at the Pai Gow table.   Can’t wait for next years!