The Day I Met...err...Stalked My Girlfriend

Yes, I remember it well. The day I "met" my girlfriend.

I say "met" because truth is, I didn't really "meet her" for like 5 weeks after I "met" her. Did I lose you? Let me clarify. I am guy. No surprise there. I walk into a room and my survival instinct, honed over thousands of years of trial and error, is to instantly assess the situation at hand. So in January of 2009 when I entered the Business School for my first (and last) business class, I instinctively scanned the class room.
Fatty in the upper left. Nose job and we'll talk bottom right. Ate her emotions over Christmas break dead center. Candidate for fetal-alcoholism 2 rows ahead. Don't you dare call this shallow. Because every guy on the planet has had this same experience in his early 20s. However, my experience would change shortly.
There she was.
She must have arrived late because my initial scan didn't come back with any "Wow. Too hot for you. Too hot for this universe-readings." Come to find out, arriving late would be her M.O.
So here I am, in sweats and a varsity jacket, oozing out the whole "meathead" vibe when suddenly I become astoundingly aware of how under dressed I am and how incredibly good looking this girl is. As luck would have it, my seat afforded me the vantage point to stare directly at her for the next 45 minutes.
Sitting there in this horse shoe shaped class room was a real treat. I mean, how better to pass the time then to awkwardly lock eyes every 5 minutes. Of course, after such "eye locking" I'd immediately bury my head in my computer and pretend to be deeply engrossed in my "work."
Let me take a minute to describe my "work" for you.
This work was to strain my eyes to see what the name tag in front of this beautiful girl said. Then promptly plug in whatever variation of Al--- M--- my failing eyes would give me.
Like a sick game of wheel of fortune, where I was filling in the blanks on the stalker network (read: Facebook) and the prize wasn't a trip for two to Hawaii, it was getting to find out a little more about this absolute Goddess in front of me. I got a few "up close" views of this nameless wonder as I pretended to take extra long packing my bags and waiting for her to exit the class room.
I always wondered if after that first day she noticed a marked increase in my wardrobe. Gone were the sweats and varsity letter. Introducing: Shabby-Chic (The Rob Lunn Look).
But after several attempts of "Allison MacAndrew" and "Allie Macpherson", I gave up. Deciding that, one this was a little creepy of me and two this girl was way out of my league. I mean, not even in my wheelhouse. The kind of hot that hurts.
There was something else about her too. I couldn't quite pin it down. Was it her smile, that I noticed (and would continue to notice) got so big some times it took over her face like a litle kid eagerly eyeing a bowl of ice cream he/she knows is way too big (but...hey.. what the hell its Friday night TGIF is on, and Mom and Dad are to tired to really care).
That incredible smile.
Well there are many reasons that this story could end here. I could be writing about the hot girl I saw in class, and then I never saw again. That would probably make for a great story too. Only, life is usually stranger than fiction. After all, fiction has to turn tot he possibilities.
So the go bye. I was seriously totally and completey disinterested in the class. This was my 4th year at UConn I had enough credits to graduate, and as long as my GPA didn't dip below 3.0 neither myself, my parents, or academic advisors would care. They knew I had "checked out" (their words, not mine). This semester was supposed to be a coast-through-see-you-at-graduation kind of thing. So imagine my advisors suprise when after the first 5 weeks of class I had near perfect attendance.
"Rob's turned over a new leaf!" (seriousy the words of my academic counselor)
No. Rob has not turned over a leaf. Infact there will be zero leaf turning yet this semester (or for any other semester for that matter). Actually, Rob is motivated by something far greater than a good GPA and the prospect of not working at McDonalds.
Love.
There I said it, I was motivated by love. And I didn't even know the girl. Not to mention other was one other problem.

"Mr. Lunn, what do you know about contracts?"
"Well Professor Schrager. They're...contractual."
"How incrediby astute of you, Mr. Lunn. Are the contracts we enter into always written, legal and binding? Are some unspoken agreements? Contracts of the social good?"
"Yes"
"Care to give us an example?" The truth is at this point, that was the last thing I cared to do. He had caught me buried in my work again. Completely engrossed in my latest game of facebook-stalking.
"Umm example? The contract that you enter into to provide goods or services. A basic trade agreement." Holy shit. Where was this coming from? I sound intelligent.
"Good Mr. Lunn. But there are others too."
"Others?"
"Yes. Do you have a girlfriend?" God damnit Schrager. Don't do this to me right now. But there was the rub. Truth was I did have a girlfiend. I was in an incredibly unhappy relationship, pondering (literally everyday) whether to end it or not. But all that boied down to this incredibly articulate exchange.
"Uhh. Well. No. Yes. Yeahh." (eyes darting along the room, praying that the blonde wasn't paying attention. She was.) Let's pause for a moment to appreciate two things.
1. In my mind I was already dating this girl? unbenownst to her I had completely moved past the formal introductions and first dates and awkward kisses and now...we were dating?!? I must have had creep written all over me?
2. I had just been cock blocked by my buisness law professor? What the shit Shrager? You sunofabitch.
He went on to talk about some meaningless bullshit about how the social contract between a boyfriend and girlfriend was unformal but very real. Lesson learned, you cock blocking, love killing, potential-future-wife-ruining bastard.

So weeks went by, a few time sthe guys in locker room asked what happened to, "The future Mrs. Rob Lunn my BLAW class." Apparently the way I had talked about her after the first day had given them fodder for jokes at my expense.

But as things worsened in my personal life, as the off season progressed I was going out partying less and less, and finally Scott Lutrus (long time friend, and hetero sexual life mate) told me enough was enough, that, "That bitch has put you through enough, you're coming out tonight."
And so, I did. I manned up and went out.

I walk in to this party at hill top apartments, a small room crammed with close to 30 people. Absolutely no where to walk, or move. Or do anything. But I crammed my way up the tiny entrance hall way, and then I saw her. The "her" from class, posted up non chalantly against an adjacent wall. I grabbed Glen who's apparently it was.
"Hey man, who's that?" gesturing in the direction of my future bride.
"Who?"
"That!" apparently to Glen she didn't stand out from the other 3 girls she was with, but to me, with my heart now racing it was all I could see.
"Ohhh? Alex? That's number 4."

That simple sentaence packed so much. I now knew her name. Alex. How wonderfully gender neutral. Alex. Probably short for Alexandra. How regal. And I now also knew that she was involved in some capacity with number four. Our quarterback and resident Tom Brady look-a-like Tyler Lorenzen.
Great.
Literally the ONE girl in my entire life that I have thought unapproachable is now dating a kid that, while devoid of common sense and personality, looks like he conjured up after reading "Stud Quarterbacks for Dummies." So I did what any self respecting man would do.
I ignored her. Not that she knew she was being ignored, but in my mind after 5 weeks of class I was definitely ignoring her.
So I did some "fly-bys." Walking in her direction but not making eye contact. On my third pass through however (by now with the precision of a military operation), I felt a tug on my right shoulder.
I am choosing my words carefully. Not a tap. Or a knudge. Which are both decidely friendly or polite gestures. Both could mean "Could you please move, you'r blocking access to the bathroom" or "Pardon me Sir (knudge), I need to make my way to the hummus." No this was a tug. Like an Oliver Twist type tug. (Please sir, could I have some-more?). I look to my right after experiencing said-tug.
Shit. Holy shit. Its her. The girl. THE GIRL. Tugging on me.
Yes, tug on sweetheart. You can tug all you want. You tug me wherever, whenever you want. My mind continued to race. You noticed me too? Of course I love you. And you want to have babies and puppies and more babies and maybe even a house? White?? Me too!! Incredible. You don't care that I have a girlfriend? Thats fine I don't care that (for all I know) you are engaged to our starting quarterback. Fine we can run away together, right now. Yes. Yes! This very instant. Let's just hold this eye contact forever.
"Don't I know you? Aren't you in my Business Law class," she said.
Shit. Double Holy Shit. Don't blow this Rob. Be smooth. But not too smooth. Yes I am in your Business Law class. I look at you ever day for literally an hour. I've planned our entire future. How do you feel about Charlotte? Great! I've already got a house picked out.
"Hmmm. Nope. Don't think so."
What. Are. You. Doing? You asshole. "hmmm nope?" What kind of response is that?
"No. I think you are"
"Hmmm. With Sam Schrager? Never seen you in there."
Wow. Who are you? What are you doing? I don't even know you any more, man.
"Well, I'm Alex."
"I'm Rob."
"So you play football? Or..."
"Yeah, that's how I know all these guys (motions with awkward hand-gesture)"
"Well these are my friends, Jenn and Jo, and..."
I'll be honest. I do not remember much more of this conversation. Something about how Prof. Schrager always put us on the spot. How we were always so tired in that class. I was just way too stunned by the fact that she: 1. (sort of) knew who I was. 2. She was even more beautiful up close. And 3. she could hold a decent conversation, again not that I knew wha we were talking about.
I some how meandered away, apparently I had other more pressing matters to attend to. What could have possibly been more imporant than that? Nothing. The answer is nothing.
I did a lap of the party (the sole purpose of which was to come back after my smoothness had time to marinate with "Alex" and her "friends...Jenn and Jo").
Yes. You let that smoothness marinate. Soak it in. How had I pulled that off. Relatively painless. So as I went in on my second approach here was my stream of conciousness:
Alright man. You did it. Broke the ice. Little rough on the whole pretending not to know her thing, but that might have actually worked in your favor. You're not a complete idiot. She laughed. You made her laugh. Ohh chips and dip. I wonder what flavor. Is that Salsa? FOCUS you ADHD bastard. You're coming in for the real thing here. Remember, you can't pretend you dont know her anymore...
"So...you guys taking off?"
Great read,man. Purses and jackets on! They must be leaving. You'r intuitive. You're in the zone.
"Yeah. We're leaving. It was great to meet you." (extends hand)
"Oh no. You come in here for the real thing." offers hug...which is hesitantly accepted.
"Have a great night."
"You too.'
What. have you done???? The "real thing?" This isn't Hands Across America. You hugged her? You just put yourself in one of two categories. Either the friend zone-day-dater or the creep who HUGGED ME the first time we met. You're a jerk.
I had basically resigned myself to the fact that, while our first encounter was positive, having closed it with a hug was probably the most-unsmooth, un cool thing I could do. Resume depression's graspe on my psyche.

So the next day I am now I full sweat-pants soldier. I look like the UConn Equiptment Room threw up on me. Grey sweat pants, great sweat shirt, Nike shoes and a Nike winter-cap.
When who do I see having breakfast at the cafe? Alex!
Who was she with? Tyler!
Great.
Now I'd have to contend with this? I look like I just walked out of the pages of "How Not To Dress Or Make First Impressions". I walked over to Tyler, who I had made eye contact with had had to say Hi.
"What up man" I said.
"Nothin. Work outs sucked"
God, Please get me out of this situation. He's eating breakfast with her. Which probably means she slept over. It's a morning meal. What other explanation could there possibly be?
"Yeah workouts. I swear they get worse every year."
"Oh Rob, how rude of me. This is Alex."
Alex interjects: "Yeah. We've already met. Remember?"
"Yeah I remember. Excuse this outfit. I gotta get on my way."
I made it out alivce. Just barely. But alive.
And that was the start of it.

From that point forth there were Facebook messages, where I coilily got to respond saying, "I didn't know that the sweat suit look warranted a friend request." There was meeting up to do "quizzes" which were just an excuse for me to spend time with her. And of course there was the denial that we were ever anything more than just friends.
In my heart of hearts I knew that I wanted to date her and be with her. And while I can laugh about it now, about how I planned marriage and all this stuff in my head. It was a long strange journey to get to where I am now. Where is that exactly? Well I am at a crossroads in my life. I don't know what career I want or where I'll go but I know one thing. That I want to go there with Alex.
I knew there was something special about Alex from day one. I mean, yes she was beautiful. Anyone can see that. But she has tremendous inner strength. Shes athletic and iindependent. But a little needy at time and I love that. She's stubborn. Very stubborn.
When I tell her I love her and how I am "the luckiest guy in the world" (because I am) she smiles or just gives me this look like "my heart just jumped into my throat, so I won't be able to respond for the next 5 minutes." My intended effect was achieved.
Its the small things I love.
How someone so athletic, a high school track star and former UConn Runner could look so damn funny running in to my arms. One big jumble of elbows and knees running and jumping on me. Fists all balled up. I can't get enough of it.
She loves to cook. She loves to eat.
Sign me up. I couldn't ask for more.
She's not the neatest person in the world, but neither am I. But she does everything with love and pride and it is such an admirable quality. I wake up in the morning and her face is scrunched as she tries to move as little as possible, trying to preserve the itegrity of her rest. I fall in love with her all over again. When we first met she was shy about her body infront of me, now most mornings is like my own personal fashion show. Like I've been let back stage fashion week and my own personal model is giving me a private show. When she kisses me, my world changes. My family loves her. And they don't particularly care for anyone, but the love her. We cheated death.
Most importantly, when my dog died. She understood that she coudn't fully understand. Probably her biggest accomplishment of all.
She made me feel comfortable and loved when I was hurting so bad.
Tendo loved her. I mean. Really loved her. Alot. That dog liked no women. But loved her. They had a moment one morning when I left her (stranded her) with Tendo. I think that moment is forever burned in our memories.
There are ups and downs, but the ups out weigh the downs.
My life is better, and happier, and fuller with her in it.
Man do I love her.
She is the "put together girl" with her wits about her and a good head on her shoulders. Nothing is sexier. Well, almost nothing.

There are many in and outs and facets to OUR story. Its taken turns for good and turns for bad, but always keeps chugging along. Slow and steady. Our story is a comedy, and a romance, a little drams, but in the end its about two people who are very in love, and want to stay that way. Eventually our story will spread two continents.

The best part about this story? That there is so much still left to be written.

National Championship

he National Championship Game
Now, I know that the International Bowl has already been decided, so really there is no other game of importance on, but in case you have nothing to do Thursday night there also happens to be the National Championship Game on. Two relative unknowns are battling for the BCS crown. Florida and Oklahoma (I know, I never heard of them either).
The story line for this game is less than compelling: Last year's Heisman winner (and current candidate for Sainthood) Tim Tebow versus current trophy winner, Sam Bradford.
I know, I know. I feel the same way: When Pitt lost 3 -0 to Oregon State, I knew the bowl season and reached its pinnacle. This shoot out was a start to finish adrenaline rush, starting with Oregon being penalized a time out for (get this) wearing the wrong uniforms. Apparently the referees felt that Orange was SOOOO last season.
But, I digress.
The national championship. Believe it or not this has actually already been played. Did I hop in my Delorean and fire up the Flux Capacitor? No (but I do have a sweet pair of acid-wash jeans if you're interested). So what do I mean by all this? Utah should have been crowned the BCS title winner. They went 13-0, not beating slap dicks like Hofstra and Temple (Sorry, UConn) but playing top (ranked) talent like Alabama and those crazy Mormons at BYU. They didn't back their way into playing in college football's ultimate showcase. They went 13-0. End of story. Check please. Be sure to tip your waitress.
The only thing Utah did wrong this year was not being a member of a BCS conference. Here's a news flash: being bestowed the "honor" of a BCS conference doesn't mean anything anymore. These so called "mid majors" are anything but. The influx of money and the limitations on scholarships has meant one thing for major college football: Parity. I don't care if you are BYU, USC, Alabama, or Buffalo. All these teams are competitive. Point in case: The 12th ranked and undefeated Ball State Cardinals fell to the University of Buffalo (bowl eligible for the first time in 50 years) in the MAC Championship game. Buffalo then lost to UConn in bowl play. Did UConn win because it's a member of the Big East? No. But getting ranked would have been easier because they are. Listen to me. I played. Beating Temple was just as hard as trying to take down West Virginia. In 2007 we beat South Florida (ranked as high as #2 that year), and that game was easier than dismantling Rutgers, who had NFL-bound Ray Rice at the helm. My point is this: Rankings and the BCS system are completely arbitrary. The best team is not in the National Championship game. The big money being thrown around means that a more marketable team like Florida finds its way playing this Thursday while Utah finds itself shit out of luck. It's no longer about the best team, its about the perceived best game. What viewers want. Apparently, that is two sub-par teams competing on college football grandest stage. The National Championship is supposed to be an all encompassing game, widdled down from all 119 teams to two who will slug it out on live TV. Instead, the BCS system makes has decided that only 66 schools are worthy of their blessing.
The system is dead. And flawed.
How do I solve it? a 16 team play off. The rest of the field can go play in bowl games. I like that reward system. All other bowl eligible teams should do so. Playing in a bowl is a privilege and an incredible experience, lets reward teams that are able to win 7+ games (no more of this 6 and 6 and Notre Dame playing Hawaii crap). Now how do we get those 16 teams? The obvious answer is the Top 16 ranked in the Coaches Poll. But honestly, 119 names in a bag an picking 16 would be better than what we have now. My suggestion? The best regular season records, after that best records determined by strength of schedule. A tie? Have a playoff. This is America people, let the best man win.
The current BCS system is about as smart as a bag of hammers. I don't advocate for a total play off system, but I do advocate for a system that gives us a true national champion. So show me one where Utah would have been playing on Thursday night. Until then, I simply don't care.

Remember What I Said About Marginal Good Looks...

Find the Halloween post to understand this one:
But a short recap, Halloween party, costumed women, dim light source = best possible situation for a bigger guy (read FWG), to find a female of his likeing. Like the majesty (and rarity) of a Solar eclipse (minus the retina searing UV Rays!) the fates have aligned to bestow a beautiful baby that might actually be interested in you.
I now offer up some empirical evidence:

(You're welcome, Scott)

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This Week in College Football

This Week in College Football: Exploring a Few of the Top 25

(3) The Pennsylvania State University (Penn State). There are only two things in life that are guaranteed: taxes and JoePa's contract extension. Don't let the report of "Arrested Nittany Lions" scare you. The man who "is Penn State," according to Pennsylvania native Steve Brouse, has more job security than God. The Nittany Lions have been on a steady roll since 2005 (after having fallen short of bowl eligibility in 2003 and 2004). Safe to say that Butkus Award winner Paul Posluszny restored "linebacker U" to the prestige of teams past. 2008 is apparently the new 1994. This year's team (at mid-season) is looking to duplicate its most recent (undefeated) National Championship squad. Has there been controversy this year? Absolutely, but what's a few felonies between friends? Nothing in State College, Pennsylvania, apparently, but I am glad that coaches are not flinching in the face of national media scrutiny. Too often do we see these situations mishandled (cough, Al Groh, cough), and I am glad the coaching staff, administration, and players were able to evaluate the situation before uniformly dismissing the "accused." Having taken an unofficial recruiting trip to Penn State I can say two things: 1) JoePa's office is more sports museum than functional space. While he does have a personal computer (Hi, I'm Joe Paterno, and I'm a PC), it's large enough to hold the original computer. 2) Recruiting the top talent in Pennsylvania is paying off. Just look at last week's 47-17 dismantling of Michigan (Oh, Rich-Rod, country roads, take you home...). Homegrown Jordan Norwood is lighting up the stat board this season (405 yds, 5TDs). Kudos to JoePa in playing freshman and spicing up the offense (the wing T was sooo 1976). At the halfway mark of this National Championship marathon, Penn State looks to be a lock to finish in the Top 5 and is eyeing that #1 ranking every week. This coming week they face Jim Tressel (and Jim Tressel's sweater vest...all power is derived from the vest) at Ohio State. So best wishes to the Nittany Lions (unless they ever play UConn).

(5) The University of Florida Gators. Urban Meyer: thanks to you, I no longer believe that Florida is where people go to die (miss you, Grandma...). Besides Gator Farms and Gatorade, the actual "Gators" are perennial Top 25-ers. This year is no different, and the University of Florida is looking more like the NFL's version of the NBADL, thanks to Tim Tebow (I hear his tears cure AIDS). With targets like Aaron Hernandez, Riley Cooper, and Deonte Thompson (yes, Deonte), the offense is simply electric (boogy-woogie-woogie). Through superior coaching (oh, and a Heisman Trophy winner) the land of heat stroke is more like a swampy piece of heaven midway through the season. Can the gators finish out a tough SEC schedule? We'll see. Make sure this Saturday afternoon includes checking out the score of the Florida-Kentucky game. (My prediction for this fight? Pain.) One slip up by Texas or Penn State, and the national title may lay its weary head to rest in Gainesville, once again.

(1)University of Colt McCoy, ahem, Texas. Mack Brown. Sounds like he should be singing on Soul Train, not coaching University of Texas football. Colt McCoy? Named Colt, you were destined for only one thing: to be the starting QB for the Longhorns. While McCoy does slightly resemble a Furby,

…his numbers are anything but a passing fad (pun intended). He went 29 for 32, for 337 yards and two touchdowns, oh...and he legged in two as well. I don't want to say that Colt might be half man/half God, but when the blood tests come back, I will say I told you so. As for Mack Brown? I can see him being the Clark Kent of college football, winning games as an unassuming coach by day, saving orphaned children by night. Not to mention an offensive line with such depth and talent that they can rotate their starters with no drop-off (shout out to the Big-Uglies up front). The Longhorns are poised to make their stay at #1 a lengthy one. Though the rest of their schedule features Oklahoma State, Kansas, and Texas Tech, I wouldn't worry. Having already tackled defying gravity and mortality, Mack and McCoy should dismantle these teams with relative ease.

(17) University of Pittsburgh (Pitt). Every school has their traditions. Texas A&M has Yell Practice. Notre Dame has the Helmet Painting. Pitt has Dave Wannstedt's Moustache. Much like Giambi, this year Wannstedt has taken tacky upper lip fur to new heights with a #17 ranking. However, it is the prediction of the FWG that much like the Yankees, Pitt's post-season plans include an early off-season. Or a trip to Canada (International Bowl, here we come!). Big Dave and Big Dave's powerful caterpillar lip defy the odds year after disappointing year, and continually have a top 25 recruiting class. Well, it appears as though this year it's paid off, with “the little running back that could," Shady McCoy. How far will the Panthers go? The equation is simple: only as far as McCoy's wheels will take them.