Well, I'll be! (a winner, that is!)

So a super fun thing happened Monday night.

I had entered a sportsy thing at work involving brackets and teams playing basketball and guess what, guess what, I came in second place!

pretty much.

When our office runs a contest such as March Madness, I’m almost always asked to help draw names.  I think it’s mostly because I know nothing about what seed a team might be, or which team has the best chance of “taking it all”.

We drew names at work, with two people on a conference call reading off the name, then me and my supervisor pulling a team out of a hat.  (Okay, fine, it was an envelope.  Work with me.)   My four teams were Dayton, Miami Florida, Oklahoma, and North Carolina. I took an unusual amount of ribbing because “you picked the names and you just RANDOMLY got those teams?”  If it wasn’t for my supervisor standing directly behind me the entire time, witnessing me pull names randomly, no one would ever believe it was a fair drawing.*

When I got home and told my husband who I had, he was REALLY excited for some reason.

An Excel chart was then created and slowly, as March progressed, more and more teams were out but I still had Oklahoma and North Carolina in the Final Four.  By then, even I understood they were really good teams.  I may not understand how they “seed” the teams but hey, I won some jellybeans, didn’t I?  Most of the time when I participate in these things I tend to donate far more than I win.

It was nice to be on the other side of that for once.

The final game was Monday night and although I abhor watching basketball, I did watch the game between Villanova and North Carolina.  Thanks to them I have no fingernails left because I gnawed them all off watching the game, which I have to admit was really exciting.  I mean, REALLY.  

I screamed a little too.

And even though my team lost (losing me fifty jellybeans, so thanks, Villanova) watching a college kid hit a 3 pointer at the buzzer is exciting, no matter who you are. 

Even if it’s a non sportser like me. 

*mostly because when it was all over, OUR TWO TEAMS played each other in the championship game.  He had Villanova.

A big career change for me (or is it?)

I am in charge of putting out our newsletter at work.  Sometimes we have a little extra space in the newsletter, as was the case this month.  My boss knows I love to write and often will let me submit a piece for filler...and for fun.  This was my latest submission for the newsletter that went out on April 1, aka April Fool's Day.

It reads as follows:

Those who are used to calling the corporate office and talking to Chris Cacciatore will have to do without her for the next several months, as she is taking an extended leave of absence to fulfill a dream she has had since she was young—to be a WWE wrestler.

“I grew up with a brother and several uncles, who were more like older brothers.  My formative years were spent fighting off offers of ‘Hertz Donuts’ and twisty Indian burns, among other things.  I also learned that the suggestion of ‘let’s see who can hit the softest’ was clearly not to see, in fact, who hit the softest.  Brother Joe, I'm looking at you.

“I grew tired of being pummeled.  I began working out in the gym and eventually honed my body into a fighting machine.  Soon, a trainer approached me about getting into the ring to do some professional wrestling and I thought, why not?”

Squishing little sister Jen, in preparation for later domination in the ring.

Chris spent ten years in the wrestling circuit, learning famous moves such as the “Tombstone”, the “Flying Headbutt”, and perfecting “the People’s Eyebrow”. 

“I stole that last one from The Rock after I beat him in a cage match,” Chris snickered.  “I also have a new move that I plan on debuting later:  “The Reverse Dog Lay”.  It’s adapted from the “Downward Facing Dog” pose used in yoga.  It lulls your opponent into a false sense of security before you steamroll them completely.”

Chris’ husband, Joe, supports her sabbatical completely.  “I pretty much have to,” he confided, watching for her over his shoulder.    “You don’t want to mess with her.”