God, I am so competitive
I've gone through my whole life now - 33 years - believing I wasn't a competitive person. I really thought I didn't care about winning, only that I did my best and others' performances were not a reflection of my character.

As my dear dad would say, that's a bunch of bullshit.

I am in a pool for the NCAA basketball tournament with a bunch of men. All friends from college, including Jase. Matt is also in this league. I am convinced that Matt is my arch enemy, but more on this in a moment.

So I researched. I haven't watched college basketball all year, but damn it, I was not going into this blind. When I was supposed to be working on my novel, I was reading articles on ESPN.com. Finally, last night, I committed my picks to Yahoo.

I contemplated waking up early - at 10:00am - so I wouldn't miss a game, but I haven't split my ENTIRE personality yet, so I woke at my regular time, 11:30. I immediately turned on the game.

All day, I was in great shape. My prediction that 12 seed Manhattan would overtake 5 seed Florida proved to be correct. I should correct that - Dick Vitale's prediction proved to be correct. By the midway point, I was 10 for 11 - and would have had a perfect record if Alabama didn't beat Seton Hall by ONE POINT. (That's all it takes, said my arch enemy, but more on that in a moment).

I call brother Tommy, or as I call him, TT-Dog, and am SHOCKED he is not watching Michigan State get crushed by Nevada. I was freaking and wanted someone with whom to commiserate, but he was watching the Pistons, having flipped the channel when the godforsaken Spartans were leading by 8,000 points or something like that. Can you guess I picked Michigan State? It was all for my nephew Jack. Anyone who knows me knows I would never pick that sub-par Michigan college otherwise.

Then it all fell apart. I'm not in horrible shape - I missed 4 picks. I'm tied for second with Jase and a couple other people. But it is Matt, MATT, who is leading with 13. Yes, he is also tied with a bunch of other people. But see, my ego cannot take another loss to Matthew Owen Breed.

It started with an innocent game of poker. We were the final two and he trumped me, winning the entire pot. Fine. One loss isn't the end of the world, right?

Then we played again. And again, he trumped me. This makes two losses. I'm getting red-faced now, but I manage to keep it under control. He didn't make it easy, though, saying, "We're going to end up hating each other, aren't we?" as he moved MY chips toward his pile. No, WE aren't going to end up hating EACH OTHER. No. But I am going to end up hating YOU, M.O.B.

The straw that broke it all was the Oscars. I never lose the Oscar pool. Never. But Matt sees one FRICKIN nominated movie and he whoops my ass. Of course, that movie was The Lord of the Rings. Still, though. He pulled the best short documentary pick out of his ASS.

And now this. This is my time to finally squash him. And he's up by one. If I do win, my reward is this: Matt has to make me a gold crown and call me Your Highness for the remainer of the calendar year. He hasn't told me what he gets if he loses yet. It won't be pretty. But that is neither here nor there. My ego can't TAKE this. We live too close, we spend too much time together. This is quickly becoming a life-time quest - I. Must. Beat. Matt.

Jase and I had all these plans for our Friday. I have now scrapped them all and we are watching basketball all day long.

Competitive? Nah. But I may just reconsider law school.