I haven't written anything in a while, so I figure it might be worth sitting down and jotting down random notes about the insanity of my daily life.

Part One

My cousin got married this weekend.

For most people, I don't know that would be particularly noteworthy. But, when I grew up, my outward family pretty much focused on my mother's side of the family. Between my mom and her two sisters, there were four cousins. We were all staggered about two years apart, with me being third in line (second youngest), so we more or less followed each other's stages of life.

So why is this noteworthy? Well, this was the third of the four cousins to get married. Leaving, yep, me.

I'm still not sure how (or if) that affects me. I've been mumbling for years that I'm not likely to ever get married. When I was in college, my mom told me that she used to say the same thing on a regular basis. Problem being, if I'd followed her life pattern, I'd have gotten married three years ago.

Honestly, I never think about this stuff. It's just not a high priority for me. But it seems like it's on so many other people's minds on a regular basis (granted how often I'm asked about it), that I sometimes wonder if I should be caring more about it than I do.

It's mainly that I found so little success at dating while I was in high school and college. (Let's just say that five of the top ten worst moments of my life involve dating, and are too humiliating to put into print.) I pretty much decided that it wasn't worth the torture any more. And I've been more than okay with it since I made that decision, granted that I'm pretty comfortable with myself and my circle of friends and acquaintances. The only time I cede any thought to it is when people start asking me about it or on those rare occasions that I meet someone that I'd kinda like to date. But when that latter situation comes up (and it's rare), I can't help but flash back to the abject failures of the past. I've been happier without it, and something like forty percent of the population doesn't get married, so I can't be the only one forgoing it.

Regardless, this was my third wedding this year. Two of the three were "unconventional" in that they weren't held at (or anywhere near) a church. And, strangely enough, they were the two where the weather cooperated. (The one at a church got absolutely dumped on, completely kludging the outdoor reception.) That's not to say I think that God was trying to say something - more that I think it's sold me on the concept of the unconventional outdoor wedding. That is, if you're lucky enough to have the weather cooperate.

The wedding itself was really nice. It was held outdoors in the north Georgia mountains, and the weather and the scenery were positively beautiful. My niece and nephew got to see my older cousin's daughter for the first time (she and my nephew were born about three days apart two years ago), which was nice to see.

I thought some time in advance that I might play some music at the reception. Then I found out a few days before that I wouldn't be. As it happened, I ended up playing a couple of R.E.M. songs. And I absolutely sucked - I could not remember the lyrics to save my life. These are songs I've played dozens of times, yet I drew a total blank.

One quick highlight: back when I was two, somebody took a picture of the "four cousins" together. About twelve years later, another picture was taken of us. Fully by coincidence, we had stood in the same arrangement that we had in the original picture. So at the wedding, we recreated the shot for a third time. I'm hoping that somebody puts all three pictures together - I think that would just be amazingly cool.

Part Two

I thought the current ten-day period starting this past weekend with the wedding was going to be absolutely nuts. Last year at this time, I went to Sarasota to help work at the UPA Club Championships (the big end-of-the-year tournament featuring all of the best Ultimate teams in North America). After going to Canada and helping out at their Nationals back in August, I thought for sure I'd make a return trip to Sarasota this coming weekend. I cleared my schedule and waited to hear from the organizer.

But I never got the invite. I'm too chicken-sh*t to actually email the guy and find out what happened. It's probably something simple like that there happened to be enough qualified non-players accompanying the participating teams that my involvement wasn't required. (It's cheaper for them to grab non-players whose room and board are already paid for than to fork over hotel costs to bring someone like me in.) But it's still pretty disappointing. Especially since a bunch of the people I worked with in Canada are going to be there, and I wonder if they're going to wonder why I'm not there.

And then comes that other point of lingering confusion - why am I always so chicken-sh*t? (I'm so chicken-sh*t that I'll actually write it as "chicken-sh*t" while simultaneously using the word "fuck".) It seems like, more often than not, I expect someone to think about how a decision might affect me rather than presenting my feelings to them myself. And I can't seem to split the difference between what I should reasonably expect and asking too much. So I end up being chicken-sh*t and keeping it to myself.

For example, when I was asked recently to work at a local tournament, I knew that the initial schedule meant that I would have to miss my league Ultimate games that morning. I didn't mind - I rarely miss, so missing one week wasn't such a big deal. I got to the tournament fields early that morning, and found out that the schedule had gotten torqued, and I wasn't going to have to work until 2:30pm. But by the time I'd gotten there, my games had already started, and there was no way I could get to them in time to play. The organizer said, "Oh, man, you should have emailed me! I'd have told you to go play!" At that point, I wondered why the phrase "you should have emailed me!" didn't come out of my mouth. And, for some reason, it didn't.

I mean this not rhetorically - was I expecting too much? I know that I did think about emailing him in the days leading up to the weekend. Something like: "Is there any hope of me getting to play my games that morning, or is that just a pipe dream?" But I kept thinking that it was already a done deal, and nagging him would have just been annoying.

And I was in the same boat this past week. I kept expecting to hear something from the organizer about Sarasota, but didn't want to nag him about it. In fairness, he's had an unbelievably insane month, organizing for Sarasota being a minor part of the deal. (It's normally a major thing, if you see what I mean.) And, as usual, I couldn't rid myself of the voices in my head, telling me that if he'd already opted not to invite me, he was going to have to come up with some kind of polite explanation. And I always hate putting people through that, even if I deserve one.

The frustrating part is that the voices say more than that. It's the part about wondering if I screwed up. Did I blow it in Canada? Were people just being polite in complimenting me, and stopped as soon as I was gone? I know I fucked up once, but no one seemed to blame me for that one incident. (I have this story in a pre-written Musing about my Canada trip which I haven't quite gotten around to uploading.) Did I blow it at the recent tournament? I had to make a couple of borderline calls during an important final game involving a number of local players, and they disagreed with both of my calls. (There is no hell worse than having to make a call against people you know and respect, knowing that their long-term opinion of you might change because of it.) They ended up winning the game, but did their opinions become a factor?

Adding one more level to the confusion is the Canada folks. They flew me up because I worked in Sarasota last year. At the end of the tournament, the head organizer said he was seriously considering bringing me back next year. But one of the Canada organizers is working in Sarasota this weekend, and will more than likely notice my absence.

I'm just lost in the whole deal. One one hand, it could be nothing. On the other hand, it could be a disaster. And another voice in my head is telling me to quit observing (refereeing) Ultimate games altogether.

Part Three

One more ball self-esteem enlightenment: I got screwed again. After ditching Earthlink (if you're keeping track, nope, they didn't bill me for another month, thank God), I decided to pick up a spare domain name to handle email. I figured there were some things that I didn't want "chrisblackburn.com" attached to. Registerfly.com came recommended to me as a low-cost domain name company, so I figured I'd give it shot.

Okay, admittedly, I made the mistake of using Opera to make the transaction. But it hadn't been an issue the last eight or ten times I bought stuff, so I didn't think twice about it. I went to the site, picked the domain I wanted, then signed up for a new account.

Up came a screen offering several different additional items, including a service that blocks personal info from being revealed in a whois. Sweet, I added that. But the options were convoluted - the service boxes didn't default to zero, and didn't have checkboxes. I only pulled down the one with the protection service, so I assumed everything was okay. I clicked continue, and it showed me the final transaction price ($11.99), and asked me how I wanted to pay for it. I picked Paypal (which made me happy, btw), and completed the transaction.

Only when I returned to Registerfly did I notice the problem. My bad math (math majors are good at that) pointed out the problem. Domains are $9.99, and $9.99 plus $2.50 is $12.99, not $11.99. There in front of me was the list of items I'd paid for (which wasn't on the checkout screen), and there wasn't a domain name there. Instead, I'd somehow purchased an email package that I absolutely, categorically, did not need.

So, there, I'd spent money and hadn't actually bought a domain name.

Their website brags about their Live Chat thingy, so I figured I'd give it a shot. It told me I was first in the queue, with approximately a two minute wait. It proceeded to tell me that for the next ten minutes. Finally, it connected me to "Fly Support Chat". I explained my problem. No response. A couple of minutes later, the Chat ended. No response whatsoever.

So I logged into their Support Ticket utility and added a ticket. I figured this problem was simple with an easy fix - credit my account for the email crap and I'll use it to buy the domain I wanted. As of the time of this writing - no response. Nothing.

Seriously, am I really this stupid and gullible?

I spent most of my elementary school and high school days being told that I was this incredibly smart guy. I had good grades and a solid SAT score. I got awards and accolades like you wouldn't believe. I got into a really great college. Everybody said I'd go on to have a great job and be successful. Ever since I started college, I've felt like the biggest idiot this world has ever produced. Everywhere I go, everything I do, I feel like I'm supposed to know and do better, and am just fumbling through it instead. (And, no, none of those predictions turned out.)

Well, on the bright side, I was able to help someone with a computer problem. After a lot of research, they'd come up empty, and I lucked out and found the answer in a surprisingly short amount of time. So at least I can go to bed knowing that I did something right.

Epilogue

Oddly enough, I didn't start this with the intention of venting. Strange how it went in that direction.