Catching the fever.

Having lived abroad, I can honestly say there is nothing like the frenzied love of the sport we call “soccer,” but for which I will side with the rest of the world and call “football” from here on out. With the World Cup beginning today, I’m like a kid in a candy store with free samples – amped up and crazy excited!

When I was young, I played the sport for some time. Somewhere in the midst of all that, and while attending a San Jose Earthquakes game in which George Best played, I met the legendary Pelé. This man was something beyond the sport. He was exceptional, exciting, astounding to watch play, yet as a person he was kind, patient, and loved fun. And to him, that’s what it was all about, this sport of football: FUN. As a result he exuded exuberant joy even just kicking about.

When the World Cup was played here in California, there was a buzz everywhere. You didn’t even have to know or like the sport to get caught up in the excitement of this world event. In preparing to make the world at home, different towns and cities “adopted” the various countries participating. The players from and fans of those teams would celebrate and hang out in their country’s town. My home town of Los Gatos adopted Brazil who became the champions that year. That was some intense revelry! I’d say it was not to be forgotten, but I’m pretty sure that many did just that the next day…

However, it wasn’t until I lived in Italy that I UNDERSTOOD. This game played in about any other country in the world (excepting perhaps Asia) is not a game. Not really. The intensity, the passion is beyond what an American can comprehend. Imagine taking our love for American football, basketball, baseball, and hockey and polarizing them all into one sport. Add to this fervor a regional pride like you’ve never seen here with rivalries going back centuries starting with skirmishes long forgotten. Then times this by ten, and you might begin to get the feeling with which this sport is followed and played worldwide.

It’s a lifestyle one follows there. In Italy, where I have first hand knowledge of the fierceness of their club rivalries and the riots that occasionally ensue, they even have a name for their national team – Gli Azzurri. When Gli Azzurri are playing, it doesn’t matter if the man next to you in the pub is a fan of one’s fiercest club rival, the frenzy and vigor of their love for their national team is so extreme that they are embracing and kissing cheeks in their extravagant joy or defending one another’s opinions when the team is not performing as expected.

It’s a crazy, wonderful, strange, and magnificent thing, this rapture for the exhilarating sport of football. I hope a few of you will catch it!

USA versus England on Saturday – the expedition begins!

I believe.

So here I am, mid-game, with my Sharks jersey over my Sharks t-shirt with accenting Sharks jewelry and hidden beneath, a pair of Sharks thong undies. It’s silly, I know, but as I keep saying, I loves me my Sharkies… and I am eating up these playoffs!

In the Eastern Conference Finals you have the bottom two qualifying teams defying the odds, making for a gladiator-like match-up. That series is going to be about gumption, will, and most of all desire. Neither team has anything to loose and they leave it all out on the ice every game. That makes for amazing, no-holds-barred hockey. The Flyers and the Canadians will give hockey fans a great series.

In the Western Conference Finals, well, we have my Sharks. Okay, okay, and the Blackhawks. The two teams that finished first and second in the West. It’s all about power, skill, force, and flipping great goaltending. These two teams, coming off a week’s rest, are going to bowl each other over as much as they can. This is a hard-core match-up.

The thing about this post season is that there are so many things happening that haven’t happened in decades, if ever. It’s exciting and thrilling because you never know what’s going to happen; what the outcome will be. Stats are out the window, no matter how much the announcers like to throw them out there…

[Fast forward 30 minutes of game play] Well, the first game of the third round is in the books, and the Blackhawks came away with the win. I’m of course suffering for it, but it was a well-played game and the Sharks aren’t even close to out of it yet. They played strong, in truth for the most part they played a stronger game than the Blackhawks, and with so much hockey left to play, I BELIEVE.

You know, as a fan this match-up is rough for me. I have one team I love far-and-away above all others – obviously the Sharks. However, I have two other teams that come in (a distant) second. Because I lived in Washington, D.C. for several years (and because I’m a huge Ovechkin fan), I cheer for the Capitals in the East. Then, and here’s my dilemma, of the Original Six teams that formed the NHL back in the day, the Blackhawks are my team.

When they aren’t against the Sharks or battling the Sharks for position in the Conference, I cheer for them as well. In this post season, I have cheered against them every series because I knew that they would be the Sharks most difficult opponent; that they would be their greatest challenge. No matter how much I love intense, great match-ups, I want my team to make it to the Cup – and win – so I want the easiest path possible.

But here we are. Sharks versus Blackhawks. And even with this first loss, I’m excited! I guess it’s a good thing I have two pair of Sharks thong undies…

Dancing queen.

Oh. My. Gosh. I just attended a Mamma Mia! movie sing-along. It was THE party to be at, in my opinion. Sincerely, I haven’t had that much fun in ages! I MUST tell you about it! :)

Even though it was just around the corner (so to speak) from my house, I found out about the event last night via my favorite Meetup group. I jumped at it, of course… I mean, a chance to belt out those fun songs with a ton of other people? Tsh, ye-a-ah! Sadly, I didn’t have time to think about dressing for the event, though, which was disappointing because you KNOW I can vamp it up with the best of them!

But the event started when I walked into The Retro Dome. This facility was an old theatre (in the shape of a dome) that a couple purchased to do fun events like this. They have this great vision, and as I found out, a lot of spunk! The lobby has bright, colorful, funky seating to lounge in while waiting for friends, they have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for sale at concessions, and the girls bathroom is hot pink, has cool girlie vintage movie posters up, and a hip cartoon lady looking very "Breakfast at Tiffany’s" painted on the wall. I was smiling in the bathroom!

Then as I entered the theatre itself, I was handed a bag of “swag” by ABBA-style clad peeps. Big hair, glitzy, wild outfits, platform heels. Yeah. It rocked. I found my group, and snagged a seat in the crowded row and enjoyed getting to know some of them. But none of us had any idea just how interactive it all was to be.

First, there was meant to be a “singing” contest, but they didn’t get many entries. However, the “Grandma Mia’s” did a number that brought down the house. All bespangled and laméd and sequined out, they got on stage and did all sorts of ABBA moves as they lip-synced. It was such a kick! (One of them was 92 – and the life of the party! Think Betty White with moves.)

Then they had a Mamma Mia! trivia contest, taking volunteers. Two ladies were chosen, and not to be left out, I raised my hand as well as the lady’s hand next to me. We were chosen and not only that, we won! So now my new friend Bobbie and I get to go see Broadway San Jose perform the stage play of Mamma Mia! Woohoo!

Just before the main event, we were taught the dance moves from the film for “Dancing Queen.” Then the show began… and we were all belting it out as the lyrics were highlighted on the screen. When the songs would start the funky colored lights would come up a bit and they’d pull people from the crowd to dance in the aisles or hand the microphones to different people. The funniest was two guys, one with a red crinoline slip on and one with a huge feather boa, busting a move to "Dancing Queen." It doesn’t get much better than that!

In the swag bags, we all got a bit of play money, and when the song “Money, Money, Money” came on, we waved it around and threw it in the air. A few got flowers, and those people were our dancing entertainment for “Chiquitita.” Then on “Does Your Mother Know,” they handed out juice with umbrellas in dixie cups!

But in “Take a Chance on Me,” when I’m about to burst out of my seat for wanting to dance (again), I was handed the microphone. After a moment, I thought “screw this,” and went to the aisle and danced and sang the big finale! (The other person that had a mic jumped out in the aisle as soon as I did!) While streamers were blasted over the seats and the dressed up peeps ran down the aisles spraying the crowd with spray bottles of water when Aphrodite’s fountain burst, I was singing and dancing away. That’s me. The Dancing Queen.

“I’m a lone wolf… ar-rooooo!”

What was discovered there.

This weekend I did another event with the same meetup group. This time it was a docent lead tour of the town I grew up next to, followed by a hike in the hills behind it and a picnic supper under the Redwood trees.

The tour about town was fun and informative, but a little odd since I’ve basically lived there since age seven. Still, it was a kick. The docent was new (I have a sneaking suspicion this was her first time) but she was quite good. The most fun thing I learned was that Lillian Fontaine brought up her daughters Olivia deHavilland and Joan Fontaine here! As an classic film lover, this was astoundingly cool to discover.

But I must say I came alive on the hike. This area of California… well, we are incredibly blessed. It’s unbelievable how stunningly beautiful it is. With the forests that have survived their giant ancestors being cut out 100 years ago, it still thrives. From the most elegant, almost lacy, little plants along the path like the Maiden Hair, to the great Redwoods, it’s lush and vibrant, and quite frankly life-giving.

I nearly didn’t go on the hike, fearing I mightn’t keep up and hold up the group. But the group was four of us, all completely enamored of the nature surrounding us. I gamboled all over the mountains, becoming the kid I am. The others laughed at me as I chattered like a five year old, completely in my element and happier than I’ve been in quite a while. They expressed their shock at discovering I wasn’t 15 years younger than I am (probably would have thought younger had this been their first experience of me). But most of all they found it too funny that I thought I’d not be keeping up with them. I mean, I probably walked twice as much as them in my excitement and contented joy.

But the very best part was when the sent me ahead to see if the path continued on or not, and I discovered something… interesting. There was a bit of a clearing, and in the center of it was an eight foot stick standing upright in the ground with a colorful ribbon tied to the top of it. Beyond it was a small circle of trees, as happens with Redwoods, that had long branches placed in such a way that all sides of the circle had about a four foot high wall, save where the entrance was coming from the clearing. On the two larger trees that formed the door there were imitation flower leis about seven feet up.

As I approached it, I took in the four foot high stump with three candles, broken pieces of celestial stone work, and another flower on it. To the right of the entrance I noticed a broken stone disk of the sun, but it was what was posted below the lei on the right hand tree forming the entrance that caught my attention. The others hadn’t caught up, so I had time to read the wooden plaque. It read:

LOVE

There is no difficulty that enough love will not conquer;
no disease that enough love will not heal;
no door that enough love will not open;
no gulf that enough love will not bridge;
no wall that enough love will not throw down;
no sin that enough love will not redeem…

It makes no difference how deeply seated may be the trouble;
how hopeless the outlook;
how muddled the tangle;
how great the mistake.
A sufficient realization of love will dissolve it all.
If only you could love enough you would be the happiest and most powerful being in the world . . .
Emmet Fox

Wow. As the others approached, I surveyed where we were exactly. It turns out that it was at a meeting of five paths, none of these paths were man made, but extended out from this clearing. It was fascinating. And beautiful.

This was, in our communal opinion, a place to receive a (pagan*) blessing for love – whether with your partner or in hope for the future of an individual. It wasn’t until we’d explored several of these paths and returned that I finally decided that I wanted some of that, so I entered. I took it all in, looking up at the sky through the tall branches that met in the center of the circle far, far above me, to the hand-dyed celestial tarp that was lightly buried beneath the debris of the forest, to the lovely scarf wound around a fallen branch that slanted from the back in (and was perfectly placed to hang a lantern from) and the necklace also attached with a charm reading “I ♥ Ashton.” I felt as if love was brought there, sought there, and found there.

I felt more than thought my prayer, and with the joy of an explorer who has made a delicious discovery, I scampered on to again overtake my group so that I can come back with more to show them.

*When I say pagan I refer to the original meaning of “belonging to the country,” or those who believe in honoring and respecting nature, not the blanket term adopted much later by those of the Christian faith to mean “ungodly.”

The gathering.

Today I attended the Tartan Day Scottish Fair about 45 minutes from my home. I was meant to go with a Meetup group, but they canceled for fear of rain. A little rain never scared me away, and indeed it never did rain anyway. I was too excited for this event not to go.

I’ve never attended one of these things, though I’d wanted to for some time. This was a small gathering, but I must say, SO MUCH FUN. I had no idea about all the things that go on. What I did expect was shopping booths, the clan booths, and Scottish music, but I did not expect all the different reenactments and interactive displays. Nor did I expect how outstanding and diverse the music would be. I learned a lot and laughed and danced and met lovely people and spent WAY too much money. I don’t regret a bit of it, though.

On the historical side of the event, there was a family that set up camp and dressed up as if they were Scots from first century BC. Just down the way was a Viking tent with all sorts of interesting weaponry and protection. This group not only put on a display, but explained what kind of person would be wearing each costume and why. There were those dressed as if they were from more of the upper echelons of historical Scottish society, including royalty. (“Excuse me, your Majesty.”) And of course, there were all different aspects of what everyday life would have been for the Scots of the day. The traditional kilts, the sword fighting with actual steel blades, and the feasts were all spectacular.

I confess, I met a gentleman that turned my eye. I actually blushed in his presence. I don’t do blushing. The funny thing is, he was big and burly with long hair, a great scruffy beard, and a belly, but his genuine character and kind nature shone the moment I met him and all that other stuff I mentioned that I’d normally avoid was suddenly quite attractive. QUITE. And yes, the kilt and kit made him that much hotter!

There was a birds of prey display that was outstanding. They had hawks and falcons, but they also had a huge eagle that was stupendous and gorgeous. They would walk around with them in and amongst the rest of us. It was amazing to be so close to an animal that regularly hunts for live food.

As for shopping, I was doing just fine - a CD here, a necklace there – until I found a kilt. It’s just a simple black cotton one, but it looks so good on me. I was avoiding, avoiding, but I couldn’t resist. Basically, I’ll wear it as skirt and love it. I'm sure I will feel ridiculous doing so when I actually move to Scotland, but I will enjoy it nonetheless. I’d love to have one exactly like this:

because this is actually my clan tartan, but as this is a designer gown (Alexander McQueen) that’s not very likely. It’s crazy how expensive it is to even get the fabric in your clan tartan in order to have a kilt, or anything else, made. So for now it’s crazy tights and a “fun” skirt (a.k.a. the new kilt).

Anyway, if you ever have the chance and like to learn as well as hang out with really down-to-earth folks, I highly recommend attending a Scottish Fair. For me, the music alone makes this kind of event worth it. The rest made it... a perfect day.

*If you didn't get the pun in the title, you REALLY need to watch more movies. "There can be only one."

How I got old.

Last night I attended a party for a long-time friend who moved out of state and was back for a visit. It was a decade birthday, so quite a do. It was lively – body shots were had (not by me).

On the way to the party I was thinking about how when we’re young, we tend to watch all the movies that are considered greats, for instance. We lap up everything. We’re at a party and we’ll drink whatever is on offer – and likely lots of it. But there comes a point where one says, I really couldn’t give a rat’s arse about that film, academy award nominated or not. It’s not my thing. I’ve definitely reached that point.

So now fast forward to the actual event. Wow. Crazy happenings, lots of “WOOOs” were yelled out over the blaring party-dance music in the back yard of that high-priced suburban neighborhood. This isn’t a bad thing at all – this friend is a true party girl, and it suits her – carefree, flamboyant, youthful. She’s serving her famous “Panty Rippers,” a concoction so strong for a fruity drink as to be dangerous to drink around open flames, and she’s bouncing from group to group, challenging some to do Patron shots, jumping into the arms of her best friend’s new beau and flashing the rest of the party in the process, chatting and flitting, and honestly somehow doing it all with everyone feeling delighted and joyful – including family. That’s how she is.

Now, I have been as brazen and wild and rambunctious. In fact on occasion when we’ve been together, I’ve even outdone her. By a lot. It’s a complete blast to cut loose and just be. Bold. Brash. Ballsy. Confident and fun-loving.

In fact, there were to be further celebrations tonight with a smaller group of ladies taking on a local hot spot and I was invited. At first I thought it’d be great. But then I realized… all this – the party scene – it just isn’t me any more (not that it ever was – I just dabbled). Now, I’m not saying I won’t ever want to get wild and crazy (this was me), but honestly just now it sounds horrid – at least in that way.

As an aside, last night was also the first time I’ve worn heels since my ankle surgery back in October. Previous to going under the knife I quite literally wore crazy-high heels every day (lowest heel was 4”). EVERY DAY. I only owned one pair of flats aside from my sports shoes, and had only worn them on a handful of occasion. I thought heels were the most comfortable thing in the world. Honestly! Until last night. Holy crap! That was rough! Of course, I *did* choose my absolute highest heel – with a platform as well. At any rate, thinking of traipsing all over the area hot spot again in heels wasn’t the most appealing possibility!

So back to my mini-revelation. I was considering on the ride home how I may have inadvertently gotten OLD. I mean, as I write this, instead of being out on the town, I’m sipping a favorite red wine while listening to classical music after being rather domestic all day, doing laundry while suffering through last night’s recorded hockey game then indulging myself in the delights of both creating and eating an exquisite homemade risotto and to-die-for chocolate mousse. And I’m contented (especially my stomach). What’s worse is that I’m looking forward to going to the Farmer’s Market tomorrow and doing more of the same tomorrow evening. (Cooking, chilling.)

I want to think that I’ve just discovered how my dimensions have changed and am embracing them, but really… classical music over popular music at the club? Chill-out evening over a night out? How old is THAT?? Still, somehow it marking me as old doesn’t make me want to jump back to the other way. I’m glad I don’t feel that youthful compulsive need to drink whatever is going. I’m willing to try things, and have a diverse palate, but at the same time I know what I prefer. If it’s not the trendy thing going, and most often my drink selections aren’t fashionable, I don’t care. It’s what I like.

One more thing that is related to this insight is that recently I have been honing in on what I really want from my life, determining that the things that detract from that goal need to be set aside. Spending money to follow in my girlfriend’s wake as she parties the night away, not really getting to visit properly with her at all, isn’t helping me toward my goals. If it were about getting to connect with her, then absolutely I’d be there… but who connects on deeper levels at a club?

I confess it is disheartening to think that I’m not as fun and playful as have been my trademarks. At the same time, it’s really nice to truly know what brings me joy as well as that I can maintain my focus to achieve my goals. So in my dotage, I guess I’ll know myself well. Ugh. I guess my only hope is found somewhere in these two quotes:

We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. — Anaïs Nin

My self-confidence comes from the fact that I have discovered my own dimensions. It does not behoove me to make myself smaller than I am. — Edith Södergran

That said, I hope I can manage tonight without the Ben Gay and Metamucil. Might need the walker, though.

Giving and getting.

A friend of mine asked if I would host a charity event to benefit The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society as she knew I could handle myself in that sort of a scenario. It was a speed-dating event held at a popular local pub.

Now, I found it a comical thing for me to be the face of. But I was more than happy to help and had a lot of fun. More importantly, so did the people that participated… and best of all, they could leave feeling great that the money they put forth goes to help this great cause. The other customers at the pub even took part by purchasing raffle tickets, and the management were very generous indeed, both on behalf of the bar and individually.

After it was over, a few of the participants hung around and it was lovely to chat with them. But after cleaning up, as I was heading out, a group of guys that had been there all night, now entertaining one woman, called me over. Having fielded questions all night about the event, I assumed that was what it was why.

Before I continue, I must interject that one of the married guys had interrupted a conversation I was having with this lovely, tiny, woman to see if she’d be willing to come meet his single friend who was interested in her. Yikes.

Now, having joined this group, the one single guy he’d been talking about begins to chat me up. I was having a nice time, but then I knew what kind of woman he liked, right? Über-thin I am not. However, confident I am. Here’s the thing, though. This same gentleman in all politeness tells me that they talked about me. Okay, I figured. But then he sort of concedes that I’m beautiful… after qualifying it with “full-figured.” Hmm.

Can I ask you, what woman would even need, much less want, that qualification? Really? I know what I look like, and I’m more than happy with myself. If you like what you see, then don’t be telling me that I’m “big” or “thick” or “full-figured” or any of that. I’m a WOMAN. I’m beautiful at any size and shape. And I know at any given moment what that size and shape is. Like or leave it, Bubba! Sure I want to be more fit (mostly so I can do my sport again and better), but this is me right now, and I really am all that just like this!

Now, as I was leaving – leaving him wanting more, of course – he asked if he could see me again. Well, sure, okay. I enjoyed talking to him and he really was a gentleman who paid me some lovely, thoughtful compliments along the way. However, on my way home I thought about the fact that he preferred the beautiful, tiny lady, and wondered why I agreed. Eh, cop or not I’d eat him alive really. But maybe I’ll gain a friend.

"Every new friend is a new adventure...
...the start of more memories."

Patrick Lindsay

Simply luscious.

What makes a day a good day?

Today I woke up to a fresh doughnut (thanks Dad!) and coffee while enjoying the end of last night’s Olympics (Ohno! Kearney! So exciting!). I then put on a cute skirt with fancy tights and my still-pretty-new boots and headed out to the farmer’s market. Sheer joy. I can’t explain why. I think it reminds me of when I lived in Italy… except far more international with sellers originally from Tunisia and India and Portugal, to name a very few.

Maybe because I know after I’m done I’m going to my favorite French-American fusion café, located right on the strip of the market, for the lightest, most delicious crepe imaginable. Today I upped the ante by getting champagne instead of café au lait, and when the chef/owner found out I didn’t have a sweetheart, he gave me a tuxedoed chocolate strawberry – very sweet – as well as instructions on how I need to find a French man for real romance. I even got a second glass of champagne on the house! Best of all I laughed with a lovely couple from Australia during all of this.

I also walked into the local used bookstore on the off chance that a specific copy of a book I wanted might be there, fully expecting to have to go elsewhere as they didn’t have it only days ago. But there it was! Just EXACTLY what I wanted – and for so little!

I eventually wandered home to snack on a fresh hummus and warm pita, finishing with a perfect cup of tea. Then after a quick change, I was off to the park for a long, brisk walk around the lake – a big deal with the ankle still recovering. It was lovely, if packed with couples taking a Valentines stroll. It felt like spring with trees flowering here and there. I finished lounging on my blanket on the hillside overlooking the lake, reading until dusk.

Now, after a warm shower (under a wonderful new shower head) and a fresh and light dinner, I’m enjoying the Olympics before watching a movie!

So, little joys, fun interactions with people on an international level, delightful surprises, tasty treats, refreshing exercise made up this good day. But even more, purposing that it would be good made it so. I chose to believe it would be, and my outlook made all the difference. Now if I could just remember to do that more often…

Anyway, after sharing about “one of those days” recently, it seemed right to share this simple yet wonderful day as well. I hope in the days to come you find delights around every corner.

What this girl wants.

Hockey. The greatest sport in the world. Now don’t attempt to argue – on this little patch of cyberspace at least you won’t win.

I’m bringing it up today, however, because it’s Olympics time! Woohoo! I always get excited for The Games. I enjoy the entire spectacle, from start to finish; opening ceremonies to closing festivities. From the obscure sports to the little known countries competing to the personal stories of the athletes to learning about the host city and country, I immerse myself in the whole of it.

However, this time with it being in Canada, and being the Winter version, I’m over-the-moon! Hockey played in it’s birthplace on a world scale – flipping awesome!

The thing that makes it all the more exciting and urgent is that this isn’t like the NHL playoffs. Come the finals of this tournament, it’s one game elimination. No best of seven. Just one shot. Your team doesn’t gel one night and your country’s metal chances could be over. So much more thrilling and nail biting this way!

With that in mind, a team like Canada with all that talent and more pressure than most could fathom (particularly after the last Winter Games results of seventh place), might just have an off night. In this one-game final rounds elimination world, even a most unlikely team might emerge… not to mention the other powerhouse of Russia.

I will, of course, cheer for my country. I will also cheer for the players from my NHL team (the San Jose Sharks) on their respective country’s teams. And I will just cheer because it’s that rare thing of world hockey. There is no (real, regular) world cup for hockey, so this is what I’ve got. And I’ll most certainly take it!

I know most girls (who actually like the Olympics) are excited for figure skating or perhaps, if they are more edgy, then some of the more extreme-style sports. But this girl, she just wants to see her some hockey!

On how things happen.

Have you ever noticed how nothing happens on it’s own? It’s like a conspiracy of occurrences. Whether good or bad, they run in packs and gang up on you.

I mean, sometimes I’d rather have the lovely things dolled out here and there rather than coming all at once so that you rarely get to enjoy one thing fully. When it’s a painful thing, of course, it’s worse because there is no time to recover strength before the next blow hits.

Why is it, for instance, that I will literally go months without a man taking any real notice, then when I become interested in one I have them crawling out from all sorts of strange places. Some of them are rather tempting and others are, well, anything but, yet there they all are ringing me in the middle of a nice dinner out on my own or texting me sexy things that would normally be quite delightful in different circumstances or from the man I’m wanting.

Or how about when you’re down you get tackled again, then piled up on? Like me recovering from ankle surgery and finding problems with three other places in my body during recovery, not to mention cramps and migraines pairing up on me. Lovely. How about I just get hit by a truck? Again, I mean.

Then there are those rather rare days where the wonderful moments all roll in on top of each other, everything being delicious and delightful. It’s such a fantastic day, but then it is done, and the next day grinds on and on.

I wish we could confront these events and tell them to quit being so cliquish; to make friends with events that they have nothing in common with now and then. But I guess they get what they want and they want tribal attacks. Bastards.