The Obligatory Valentine’s Day Post II

Since I am a journalism major, I guess it would only be right that I write a little post-game blog after Valentine’s Day. So here goes nothing:

First, I’d like to send my best wishes to Northern Illinois University. I know NIU was on my “enemies list” after hiring former SIU head coach Jerry Kill, but all jokes aside, my thoughts are with those that attend school in Some lunatic opened fire, wounding students and had me (and many of my friends and colleagues) worried about NIU. It’s sad that things like this continue to happen anywhere, let alone college campuses.

Next, I’d like to say V-Day went without much glitz or glamour. I didn’t do anything special, I didn’t even get a chance to eat my Fannie May chocolates that I got from my mother. The last two years, V-Day has just come-and-gone without much fanfare and I have not minded one bit!

I’d also like to take this opportunity to say that I hope that everyone had a happy V-Day! No matter if you hate it or love it, I hope that you have good days everyday—no matter what “holiday” is or is not taking place.

The majority of this blog now turns its attention to my Valentine, Erin Andrews.

Erin Andrews is almost perfect. I say almost because her only flaw is that she is a fan of the Green Bay Packers, but I can get over that (that coming from the guy who has fallen in love with girls who were Cardinals and White Sox fans.) Seriously, there’s something sexy about a girl who not only knows her sports, but can break it down and look good while doing so.

Anyway, I bring it up because of a newsworthy interview EA does with some Philadelphia sports talk radio station. Blogsite Awful Announcing has the perfect headline and some intriguing notes:

• “I’m sure the next hot blonde is going to walk in the door and take my job.” I guess that’s the nature of the beast, but EA is kidding herself if she doesn’t think she is the Gold Standard of sideline reporters
• A Michigan State student asked Andrews to leave the outgoing message on his cell phone. Another too little, too late idea after EA has left C’dale. Can you imagine my voicemail saying “Hey, this is Erin Andrews. Luis is busy right now, he’ll get back to you as soon as he can. Thanks for calling, bye…” I’d call my own phone just to hear her voice lol.
• “I’m absolutely dating…but I’m not exclusively dating.” YES! YES! YES! That means there’s just an off chance that on V-Day Erin was thinking “I wonder how that kid from Carbondale is enjoying his Valentine’s Day?” If you must know, I spent my day wishing EA was here with me.
• David Wright is a “good friend.” There’s one less guy to consider as competition. Take it from me, any time a girl says a guy is just a “good friend”, it means he’s the kind of guy that stays up late with her chatting about her life aspirations, how her day at work was and how crappy her exes are. Trust me, being a “good friend” is the kiss of death because no matter how perfect you are for her you’re just not good enough!
• “I’m looking for a guy that it’s okay that I’m on the road.” I’m OK that you’re on the road as long as you’re OK that I’m a 21-year-old college student who is turning into a stat junkie that spends too much time on Deadspin, The Big Lead, Awful Announcing and SalukiTalk.

All jokes aside, Erin Andrews rocks and I hope she finds happiness with whoever (especially if that whoever is me).

I’d like to end the Post-V-Day blog with a shout out to those who are deserving of one. So Happy Valentine’s Day to:

• My family: Mom, Roy, Titi, Mama, Kristin, Jessica and everyone near and far I didn’t mention. I hope you enjoyed your V-Day.
• My friends: I’d name you all, but if I forgot to name one of you then I’d probably end up in trouble—so I’ll cover you all with a blanket by saying “Happy V-Day to y’all!”
• Erin Andrews: see above!
• SIU basketball: Despite your 13-12 overall record, the SIU Arena is still my favorite non-alcohol serving place in Carbondale! Go Dawgs!
• and finally, my true love: the Chicago Cubs. If there’s anyone who needs a hug, it’s a team that hasn’t won the big one in 100 years. I often say that being a Cubs fan is like being in a tortured relationship, but if my significant other didn’t bring me the big one, they probably wouldn’t be my significant other for long (and you can take that in any context you’d like).

Goodnight, from Carbondale!

Poem #9: Monday Morning Phone Call

Monday Morning Phone Call

Some story on television about corrupt politicians…wishing I could change the channel…wondering where is the darn remote? Trying to piece together what happened this weekend. Not sure how Friday night turned into Monday morning. The phone rings, but I do not care. I do not take phone calls while I eat. It is a message from my ex. I found this odd, because we have not spoken…not since she did you know what, with you know who. In the message, she said some things she knew would make me smile. I think she wants to reconcile. The reason I had to leave her is because I did not want to date a cheater. And as nice as it was between her thighs, I no longer wanted to put up with her lies. I decided not to return the call.



Look, I'm posting these poems in the same order as they are in my portfolio. I'm doing in hopes that people will see my work as the story I try to portray through the order that they are in.

So it's only coincidental that I posted the "Ma's Margarita" poem on Friday and the "Monday Morning Phone Call" poem this morning.

'Phone Call' is in the form of a prose poem. And despite the fact that prose and poetry are opposites, poetry in prose form is basically poetry in paragraph form. I enjoy writing prose poetry because it is a lot like writing a short story.

When writing in traditional poetic forms, I use a lot of fragments in my work. However, in prose poetry, I generally try to use prose poetry.

If you've read my work before, you know that you have seen this piece in the past. I cut out a lot of unnecessary words and tried to tighten up the story by taking out elements of poetry that I thought took away from the poem.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This poem is part two of "The Georgia Series," which is a series of poems revolving around a girl named 'Meg.' The series is yet to be completed.

Poem #8: Annemarie

Annemarie

I'll never find another you
with hair so soft and eyes so blue.

Now you're gone, I don't know what to do.
I'll never find another you.

Not knowing where you are, wishing you were here.
Knowing you made me better when you were near.

Wondering why you aren't here with me;
Guess you wanted to be free.
I no longer control you, Annemarie.


This is my rendition of a blues poem, and it was one of the more difficult assignments from this semester. I have my issues writing a blues poem because I find emulating the classic blues style and trying to capture the voice of blues poetry, so instead I try to write from one of the topics seen a lot in blues poetry, heartbreak.

This falls under the category "write what you know" and know one knows heartbreak like I do. So since I didn't capture the blues voice, I added other elements of poetry to enhance my work such as rhyme and the use of couplets and a tercet to end my poem.

In the future, I would like to work with this poem and extend it by giving more of a description of "Annemarie." Because if I can describe "Annemarie" to a better extent, then I can really capture how much of a heart breaker she really is.

Author's note: The original title and name used in this piece was "Majorie," and the poem was inspired by a character from the former ABC television show "What About Brian?" which I jokingly claimed was based off my life. Her character was the inspiration behind this piece.

...And another thing (last night's blog continued)

I realized that I really didn't finish last night's blog the way I wanted to. So here comes its proper ending (a two part edition):

• I forgot to mention that it was because of Vanessa's wedding shower why my mother didn't come down to visit me when DePaul came to play SIU in women's basketball. That would explain why she didn't return my calls all day and why she didn't tell me about her weekend plans.
• I guess Vanessa asked where I was and my mother told her I was at school. Vanessa asked my mother if she had told me, my mother said no. Vanessa responded, "you're going to have to tell him sometime." And the thing that will stick in my head for a very long time: "Luis was just too slow with the proposal."

Ouch. The story of my life.

I also forgot to note the end of my conversation with my mother had me thinking this: "You know what this means, right? This means that I need to find myself a really superficially hot date for this."

A little more than a week later, I still have those same feelings. I kinda feel bad about it though, because really, what's that gonna prove? Frontin' that I'm happy when I really am not is wrong. Now, let's say I'm in a genuine relationship and my girlfriend happens to be my date, then so be it.

But what if I'm still single? What if I don't have a date? Do I still go to the wedding? How do I save face in front of the former girl of my dreams and a family that still adores me?

I'm not even sure anymore.

Maybe I should take two or three dates to prove that I'm happy. Maybe the idea that it would take two or three girls to satisfy me would put the "what could have been..." thought in her head.

Oh, who am I kidding. The fact that I'm even thinking about that this early in the game and to that extent goes to show that I've got some serious issues going on in my head that need to be resolved a.s.a.p.

And on top of that, the idea that I will likely have to go through these feelings at least two more times is sickening to me.

Until then, I'll quote Tom Petty to end tonight's blog:

"Yeah I might have chased a couple of women around
All it ever got me was down
Then there were those that made me feel good
But never as good as I feel right now
Baby youre the only one thats ever known how
To make me wanna live like I wanna live now

The waiting is the hardest part
Every day you see one more ca rd
You take it on faith, you take it to the heart
The waiting is the hardest part"
--Tom Petty, The Waiting

Until we meet again, good night from Carbondale.

A lesson learned during Thanksgiving break

I'd like to interrupt the recent blogs of poetry to get some things off my chest. Besides, that's what blogs are for, right?

Since I've opened Life With LuDo I haven't been as forward as I used to be with my blogs. I've held back a lot of stuff that I would have written here, and I'm not sure why.

Maybe it was because work and school have kept me busy. Maybe it was because the Cubs kept me happy. Maybe it's because I'm afraid people will be bothered by what I write.

Well tonight, that ends. Because I have things to get off of my chest.

First, I'd like to note that my Thanksgiving break was absolutely wonderful. It was great to be home in the great city of Chicago with my friends and family. It was also fun to be able to listen to a morning show that wasn't a complete suckfest (Yay for DreX!!!) and some quality sports talk radio (Yay for 670 The Score!!!)

My night at the bar was memorable and lived up to all of the hype I heard from my friends. I loved it to the point that I already can't wait 'til the next celebration.

Thanksgiving dinner was amazing, and that description doesn't do justice. We had deep fried turkey, smoked turkey, honey ham, mashed potatoes, gravy, sweet potatoes, Mom's famous macaroni and cheese, Mama's famous arroz con gandules, Roy's famous ribs, and so much more.

Having Thanksgiving at my house was a blast. And I tell you what, there's nothing like waking up Thanksgiving morning with a nasty hangover and a pain in your body because you slipped and fell while "cranking dat soulja boy."

And then there was my early X-mas gift which I am thankful for.

However, there is just one thing from my vacation that is bothering me. It's a lesson that I learned, and hopefully I can (finally) learn from my own words: "Be careful what you wish for, it just might come true."

I arrived in Chicago on Sunday afternoon after a long night of being wasted in Carbondale and settled in to watch the Bears game against the Seahawks (which they would eventually lose.) At half-time, my mother needed to go to the store and she needed her chauffer to take her there. And that's where the story gets interesting.

While driving on a cold and rainy afternoon, I should have seen it coming. My mother started the conversation with, "I've got a date for you."

"Awesome, I'll shave tonight," I responded thinking my mother had set me up on a blind date.

"No, it's a wedding date," she replied. "Oh yay," I thought to myself. I love weddings and haven't been to one in a while. I joke around with friends of mine that are in relationships that they should hurry up and get married so I can go to their wedding, get drunk and have a time of it.

My mother responded: "I know I shouldn't be bringing this up while you're driving, but it's Vanessa's."

I was shocked.

Before there was "hot, blonde and southern" there was Vanessa, the original girl of my dreams. I call dibs on that line there because I pulled it from a poem about her that I have been working on since May.

Long story short: Vanessa's mom and my mom are really good friends and always thought we'd make a good trouble. As children, we crushed on each other and had our puppy love, but nothing ever came of it. We came close in high school when I finally realized she had liked me, but nothing ever materialized.

She dated other people in high school. I didn't date anyone.

A part of my blames my mother, who knew Vanessa liked me. I wish she would have said something, then I definitely would have made a move. But who am I kidding, it's things like this that make me believe that I would have just screwed it up anyway.

So anyway, back to the story. It's Vanessa, one of those classic "one's that got away" stories, that is getting married on August 8th 2008.

That's right 08/08/08. Let me note that she's a big Cubs fan (as am I) and that date (08/08/08) marks the 20th anniversary of the first Cubs night game at Wrigley Field. Now if that doesn't tie things together in a nice lil' package, I don't know what will.

That moment there marked the end of a strange week where the Cancer women who make my life miserable broke my heart twice in a three day period.

I guess since I'm on my soap box, I might as well dive into that topic too. But I'll keep this short and brief (heck, I'll summarize it with one solid punchline.)

"There's nothing like being woken up by the girl of your dreams telling you that there is a girl that has a crush on you. Unfortunately, it wasn't her."

That's how I felt the Friday before Thanksgiving break when I got a call that a certain girl might like me. I felt terrible, because I didn't share those feelings. And as much as I say that I want to play the heart breaker because it might give me a sense of redemption after all of the times I've been rejected or heart broken....being the heart breaker isn't the role I truly wanted.

That set off the awkward confessional I had later telling "the girl of my dreams" that I couldn't date her friend (who may or may not have had a crush on me) because I still had feelings for her. And that if I dated her, all I could think about would be what coulda, woulda and shoudla been. And really that does her friend a real injustice, because she's a nice girl and doesn't deserve that.

And I didn't wanna be that guy.

Then came the well I kinda used to like you at one point, but I'm glad that we never dated because we're still great friends part of the conversation, which sent me on a "oh my gosh what have I done" trip.

Seriously, now I really get to think about what woulda, coulda and shoulda been. I've spent time in the last two weeks since that day thinking about where I went wrong. And then came the gut check question of the year: "is having a best friend worth losing the possible girl of your dreams?"

I still haven't come with a conclusion for that one.

(AND THIS IS WHERE I TIE IT UP NICELY AT THE END)

The way I see it, this girl that I'm talking about...this girl is what I thought Vanessa was going to be. What she has, I've always wanted in a girl. And the idea that I could have had it, saddens me.

Don't get me wrong, it's nice to have a best friend understands everything about you...but at what cost?

In the end, the feeling I felt when I found out Vanessa was getting married will happen twice more because of the Cancer women in my life.

The funny thing about it is that my mother loves the three of them (of course my mother herself is a Cancer too.)

Two of them have met in person, not knowing of course what each meant to me. Two of the others know about each other and what they mean to me. And then there's one that knows each story.

Confusing, yes. That is just one half-hour inside my mind on a Tuesday night that has just turned into Wednesday morning.

RANT OVER!