So the tournament this weekend was pretty fun.  I left Dave and Nico at home.  When we originally started planning the tournament, I thought they would come with, but the session started early, and so I went alone.  It was a good time.  Our team played well and there was no drama.  As per usual, I didnt get much sleep, as I stayed out late.  The first night we were there, I met up with Phil (from Malawi) and his girlfriend.  Phil is a professor at Tulane and they gave me the “swanky” tour of New Orleans.  This included a delicious dinner and a cocktail tour of New Orleans.  Side bar: if any of my players are reading this, keep in mind that I am 32 years old and that it is perfectly legal to drink.  Also, I wasn’t driving.  And I wasnt drinking to get drunk.  I was tasting new things.  And again… I am a grown a$$ woman.

So dinner was ACROSS THE STREET from the Quarter Stitch.  A cross stitch/knitting shop that I had given up hope of seeing because I wasnt doing NOLA as a soloist.  So imagine my glee when I came around the corner and saw it on the way to dinner.  OMG.  As per usual, I needed to buy a bit of expensive, pretty yarn that probably isnt enough to make anything out of, but that is okay, because I suck at knitting and crocheting.  But it’s cool.  Also, I know there is something wrong with me.

At dinner I tried absinthe.  It is usually green but here it is mixed with sugar and whiskey.  It tastes mostly like I was being punched in the throat with a rusty metal fist.

We went to several places, including Annauds (which is a bonafide NOLA institution).  Phil’s gf and I had a drink that was basically an homage to the king cake (because we are in pre-Mardi Gras NOLA).  It had a gold baby in it.  For those of you who dont know, the gold baby is something that you’re supposed to find in the king cakes (which are basically round breads with frosting on top).

We also went to the Carosel Bar (but had to leave since it was packed).  And the Roosevelt, which is like the capital of swank town.  I had a drink called “The Honey Badger”, which I thought was from the youtube sensation.  Turns out I am a dumbass because there is some LSU athlete who the drink is REALLY named after.

Turns out we were having a great time and by the time I was ready to meet up with soccer girls in the Quarter, they were on their way back to the hotel.  Bummer.

So the next morning was SOCCER TIME and we ruled the school.  We won all three of our games easily.  The weather was cold and windy.  It would have been really nice but for the wind… but we played well, there was no drama, and I felt like a million bucks.    Here is a team picture.

What is the green thing that Julia is holding on the end, you ask?  It is a dinosaur tail.  It is at least the second tournament that the tail has appeared at.  Yes.  She owns a dinosaur tail.  No, she does not have children.

We played in the third division.  For those of you who have never attended a soccer tournament with drunkards, it can be the most frustrating thing: when you travel several hundred miles to play in a tournament and half the team shows up drunk and you get your a$$es handed to you.  For me particularly because I lost a long time ago that ability to be nice to my defenders.  In the course of my post-college soccer career, I have dropped f-bombs on my defenders, I have asked them to remove their heads from their a$$es, I have screeched at unsuspecting drunkards “stop f-ing around with the ball in the back and get rid of it!!” and I have even gone so far as to tell friends playing in front of me that if their mark was too fast for them, they should switch with someone who could keep up.  Side bar: sometimes I am not a nice person.

It was part of the reason I stopped going to tournaments.  I got frustrated with taking it seriously, by not getting snockered and showing up to play only to find that some teammates were either still drunk or hungover or they couldnt play because they were throwing up or they just didnt show up.  And nothing is worse than spending good money to go to a tournament to get your ass kicked because your team is a bunch of drunkards.  And its tough because you dont want to be the Debbie Downer… like closing down parties and stuff…. like, “Yall get back to your rooms, we got an 8am game!”  Everyone hates that guy.

So rather than doing that, we were registered in the third division, thinking that if anyone lost it and couldnt handle NOLA, we’d still be okay.  We also didnt know how good the 1st division was compared to us.  Turns out, we may have sand bagged ourselves a bit.  We played in the third division against women who were in the twilight of their soccer careers and who at the pinacle of their game might not have made the varsity squad at WHS.  Isnt that terrible?  In any case, we ruled the school and made enemies left and right.  Haters mostly.

After we were done being the mayors of Awesometown, we did the shower/change/nap thing at the hotel and headed back to the Quarter.  We had a groupof 20+ that wanted dinner, but we were forced to split up to accommodate such a large crowd.  Several went to Acme Oyster House (which is where I really wanted to go).  But I was REALLY hungry, so I decided to go to Felix’s, where I thought I could get in quicker.  After standing in the cold for 45 minutes, we finally got in and were settled into a table back in the back that was warm and toasty and cozy.

I had chargrilled oysters (which are kind of my thing):

And while the oysters were awesome- soaking up that oil with the bread was the best part.  After dinner some of us were to meet at Pat O’Briens for hanging out and such.  Some didnt make it (Kelly, etc.) largely because they were wiped out and tired.  I think the fact that I only had to make like 5 saves in three games contributed to me having the energy to hit Bourbon street… I didnt run my a$$ off for 3 games… like some people (Ashley and Kelly).

Here is a picture of some of us on Bourbon street.  I didnt realize that my eye shadow was so light on my sun-burned face.  So excuse the weird raccoon eyes. Yes, I am wearing a glow stick… that was our symbol… none of the group was to go with anyone who did not have a glow stick.  Of course, it is New Orleans… and there is all manner of shiny objects to entertain the meth-heads… but it worked okay for us.  Mostly.

Sunday dawned cold and windy (again).  We played in the semifinals and were up several goals at halftime at which time we decided that I could play in the field a bit.  In my second touch of the game, Erin (from Houston) drove down the right side to the goal line and squared off a pass to me at the top of the six.  Side bar: I dont usually screw these up.  One touch later and we are up a goal.  This experiment of me playing in the field continued till the game ended and we played in the finals, at which time, I stayed happily back in goal.

Nico and Dave made this video to send to me before the game:

I know, right?

Henceforth, we won the Finals easily. Yay!!  We won. And we made friends!!  Which was fun!!

The drive back was easy.  Kelly, Ashley and I listened to Bossypants (by Tina Fey) which only confirmed that I would love to know her in real life.  I think we’re best friends, only she doesnt know me.

This morning I am back at it.  The College of Medicine is having its 8th Annual Research Fair.  Here is one of our posters.  Yes… I just said ONE of our POSTERS.  I will have to tell you more about that $hit show tomorrow (by the way “$hit show”) is my new favorite thing to say.  Yes, I will be wearing that out, per usual.

One thought on “Dallahassee

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