This could be better....

I love the Giants. This, my friends, is no secret. I screamed horrible things at Tynes when he missed those two field goals, all the while telling Eli that he was doing a great job, no matter what. And really, I'm a Brett Farve fan, as long as he isn't playing the Giants.

But really, wouldn't this whole thing be better if anyone would give us a little credit? We didn't win the Dallas game, they lost. We didn't win today against Green Bay, they collapsed. Do 10 straight road games, and the calm, cool, collected play of a fourth year QB who's never won a playoff game mean nothing? Seriously Fox Sports, Sports Center and NFL on CBS. Show a little respect.

Never a doubt in my mind...

Eat that Barber twins!

Also: Never, ever read the "Weddings" section of the NYTimes. Thank me later.

Feliz Año Nuevo!

Perhaps it's because I am still mourning the loss of Jeremy Shockey for the Giants playoff game(s, hopefully). A friend of mine suggested that I revamp this blog to deal exclusively with my favorite tight end, then write him a letter asking him to sponsor either my current or former place of employment, a relationship which will blossom into an intense friendship and our inevitable nuptials. Writing this out I realize how insane it sounds, so I'm going to keep blogging about work and such, particularly the over-stimulation that starting a new job brings.

One of the hardest things about posting on this blog is how much it makes me think about Chile, and every time I have to revisit the circumstances under which I left. By rights, I should still be there, with my kids, with my volunteers, in my happy apartment with a job that I loved and the most comfortable bed in Santiago. Did I cry when I had to sell it to a purpose-less gringo who had just moved to the country, telling me "I don't know, maybe I'll teach English"? For the fourth time that day.

I delayed having to think about my old life, which seemed years away, when I was whisked directly from the airport to the hospital, only to return to a different, and much crappier hospital three days later when a friend was hit by a kamikaze cab driver who actually considered not stopping until I stuck my finger firmly in his face and said "Go f*ck yourself!", which maybe wasn't the best way to get him to stick around, in retrospect. As it turns out, of all of the people on the street that I night, that cabbie and I are the only witnesses to what happened.

"Are you sure the light was red, Lauren? Are you sure? Was the light red?"

I hate hospitals, and I hate how cliche it is to say that. But it's true. In the hospital room of my first visit, one of my sister's friend broke down, talking about how only horrible things happen to people in hospitals, and people don't come back out. Had she not poured Tanqueray into my Sierra Mist, I would have thrown her out, as no one in that room needed a reminder of any potential outcome. I countered "What about when babies are born? That's happy?" My sister and friend looked at me with a slight shake of the head. "NOOO! she cried. Do you know what happens to a woman's vagina?" I found her bottle of gin, topped off and tried to focus on Meerkat Manor. So it's not the smell, or the illness, or the constant beeping that gives me the creeps, it's the adverse effect that hospitals have on otherwise sane people.

I like to think that being in a normal work environment will make me more retrospective, since I've spent time wishing I had documented more of my Chilean journey. So much happened, and so much didn't. The hard part for me, is that so much is still happening that I can't be a part of anymore, that I traded a Chilean school for an American hospital room and a newfound addiction to my laptop. My selfishness upsets me, and I find myself drawn into the alternate reality of (as previously documented) of SoapNet.

And this, my friends, is why I don't find myself compelled to blog. Because I'm a sad-sack.

Happy New Year all the same. I have nothing but the highest of hopes for 2008. Will I get into graduate school? Will all of my friends continue to get married and have babies?

And most importantly, will I finally get to meet Jeremy Shockey?

It pours

I knew I was hitting rock bottom when I said to myself "Maybe I should start watching One Tree Hill." Until that moment, I had zero interest in the show. Especially since a friend of a friend made out with Chad Michael Murray at a party in the Flatiron District. While he was still married to Sophia Bush. But in the SoapNet midday line up, sandwiched comfortably between Melrose Place and the O.C., One Tree Hill seemed like the next logical step in my journey to full-on tv junkie. It wasn't until I spent two endless hours watching what can only be described as "everything wrong with the teen soap drama...with none of the good" that I actually turned off my television, my partner in crime for the weeks since I moved home from Chile, and vowed to never watch SoapNet again. The strange thing is, that's when the phone rang.

I got a job. A real "what-I-want-to-be-doing" kind of job, in a crappy neighborhood with awesome people. When the Deputy Director called me, after four days of speed bumpy inter-continental reference checking, it was almost as if she knew how narrowly I escaped CMM and his overacting crew of soulless adolescents, and the job offer (which I accepted so eagerly I was greeted with a slight, but audible, giggle) was my reward.

Then, perhaps because I was overjoyed at the prospect of having something other than Riverdale gossip and the New York Giants throw-myself-off-a-cliff season (and now this?), I left SoapNet off for the remainder of the day, and actually worked on a short story (in which my protagonists always get the cool nicknames I never had). I was snapped out of "Jules'" plucky world by a gmail chat "plunk", and with it a freelance offer. In my inbox, the long-awaited response to a blog pitch. Followed by three separate announcements that friends are engaged, which is getting old very quickly (I'm so happy for all of you, really). And I think I'm getting a temp job in the meantime. Big stuff.

That was Monday. Am I gloating? You bet. After weeks of making things up to tell my friends about my "day" and wishing I had a dog, I actually have news. It's good news. And as my blog struggles to re-find its voice, I believe you'll now be hearing about how (or if) it's possible to throw myself, 100%, behind something new, with the memories of Chile and the volunteers still so much in my mind. So for now, we'll start at 50% new place and take it from there.

And 0% One Tree Hill.

What's a Fark fanboy? a.k.a. Why I love football!

I couldn't sleep last night, because I spent all day either watching my dreams shatter (not really, I'm keeping hope alive), prepping for a big funding meeting with the E.D., and trying not to think about the impending decision about my potential new job. It's also really difficult just to be living back in the States, but I don't think I can talk about it just yet.

So I came across this post at a new-ish blog which is written by a group of women freelancers/bloggers, one of whom I follow at Freelance Writing Jobs. I like FWJ because I've found work there that enabled me to live in Chile for so long without a regular income.

I've sprinkled a post or two, cryptically I suppose, about my love for the New York Giants. I am a football fan, through and through. I found the post really offensive and uninformed, and thought about posting a list of why I love football here (on a somewhat girly, touchy feely blog) just to sort of say that men and women are not separated by sports, and that one woman does not speak for all of us (I don't think that's what she was trying to do, but the whole thing started to become about gender lines, etc.).

The writer was totally attacked in the comments. Nasty, hurtful, unnecessarily attacked. Name calling, etc. ensued, and she eventually had to start moderating her comments. I don't have anywhere near her readership, so I'm not all that concerned about mentioning it here. All the action apparently was stewed up by her list appearing on Fark, with which I'm only slightly familiar. So what gives over there? What is everyone so angry about? I should be the angry one, considering the way the Giants played yesterday. But instead, I'm staying positive.

A little about why I love football:

1) Three hour games: The football season is short, but the games are long. Every one of them means something. I'd take a three hour game over a seven game series any day.
2) The Quarterback Sneak: It usually works, even though we can all see it coming.
3) Jeremy Shockey: It's refreshing to see someone get as mad at himself for screwing up a play as he is happy with himself when he does something right.
4) Tailgating
5) Coach's Challenge: Am I the only one who likes this? It's like a jury verdict coming in. Very tense, very exciting. Sometimes refs are wrong...the challenge means we won't be talking SO much about bad calls the next day.
6) The safety: The St.Louis/Seattle match-up started with 2 points on the board. There is something so satisfying about seeing the opposing QB sacked, and that satisfaction is doubled when you actually get points for it.

I could go on, but I won't. I just love the sport, I love standing behind a team whether they are good or bad, just because I said I would. I love seeing Brett Farve having one of his best seasons at 38. I love the yelling.

And it really doesn't matter to me if some random blogger doesn't get it. It's her loss.

Oh Giants....

I never doubted you. Ok, maybe I did. But just you Eli. And I'm sorry.

What's Up?

We invited some friends over tonight to watch the game. A big game, because it's my team and they're doing pretty well. As well as one can when their QB is so hit or miss. The wrong sports metaphor, I know.

Because I've screwed up the schedule so many times, I made sure to check espn.com to make sure that MNF would in fact be gracing us here in Chile. Even with the recent time change. Anticipating a 9:30 start, I was horrified to see baseball highlights, and began to assume that the Sox had bumped my beloved Giants. I checked again, this time in VIVO! my trusty cable revista.

The game would be shown at 1:30am. For no reason that I can currently fathom. I have very real memories of watching MNF at Hooters, Publicity and the Geo Pub. In fact, once the Geo pub closed IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GAME I WAS WATCHING. What was different today?

Pablo tells me: It's Chile. Everything is different.

And so it is. We're trying to pick a new Program Director, and have to ask ourselves if an American, or Holander (?) or Mexican can adjust to life in Santiago, without the luxury of integrating with a class of volunteers like all the rest do. None of the current admin, save Luke who came on a fellowship, have come out of class. So many come for a very "latin" experience. The kind that you simply don't get in Santiago, at least not right away. I've struggled recently, especially with my impending exit from VE and Chile, with the fact that I can't say that I enjoy life here, outside of the volunteer and VE experience. Like so many expat bloggers, it gets increasingly difficult to enjoy life in a city where people don't appear to enjoy their lives.

So I ask the Chileans reading this blog (and I know that you're out there)....what do you enjoy? Do you have the same love-hate relationship that I have with New York? Is it hate-hate, or love-love?

And will I be able to stay away from NFL.com until 1:30am....

My hero...

...is this man...for today anyway.