In one corner we have Ben, who rode through the gauntlet of the original Tournament of Cuteness like Benjamin Button on a horse made of regrets and seedy bars.

In the other we have Charlotte, who, although her path to greatness was but a single poll, we can all agree deserves to be here. She wants nothing more than to be your Valentine.

Leave your kittens and puppies at home. Nobody puts babies in the corner.

This is for pride. For legacy. For eternal adorableness.

This is the Hunger Games of cuteness. This is the Mortal Kombat of cuteness. The Grand Prix of cuteness. The Super Bowl, World Series, and Whatever Hockey Has of cuteness.

Your vote matters (until Sunday at 10:00 CST). Choose wisely. Let the games begin. And get your Tournament of Awkwardness photos in while you still have time.

Ben

Charlotte

Take Our Poll

On to my favorite comments this month:

This is a first: One of the best comments of the month came from Katie on last month’s “best blog comments” post. It’s best enjoyed out of context.

Dude, I’ve seen camo lingerie before. It exists. I used to work these auctions for the National Wild Turkey Federation while I was in college to supplement my income…and becuase I thought it meant free shots of Wild Turkey bourbon all night…fooled again.

Anyway, after selling raffle tickets, I had to walk around the items during the live auction for the bidders to see. And yes, at one event they had a free night at a local hotel, a bottle of wine, and a camo teddy (The lacy, frilly kind. Not the bear). My friend and I drew straws, and I came up with the short one, and was forced to walk it around the room to cheers and shouts of “Why don’t you model it for us, honey!”

I’m pretty sure at least three of the guys thought that my companionship was part of the package, so imagine my dismay when the highest bid was only $35.

The Best Recycling of a Classic Line comes from Aaron in reference to the reason why I didn’t put Bon Iver’s album on my 2011 Playlist:

I got a sickness. And the only prescription is more falsetto.

The Best Comment I Don’t Want to Ruin by Giving It Away in This Title goes to Brad for a comment on my post about my fear of dropping babies:

My sister brought my two nieces into town last year to go to the zoo. The youngest was two years old, and her stroller was my responsibility. When we got to the wolves, she was crying. My sister said I could get her out of the stroller, so I picked her up high enough to see over the fence and into the wolf exhibit, which was about 20 feet below.

Suddenly, I felt myself overcome with the urge to hurl my own niece into the exhibit. I have no idea why. I just felt like I was going to do it whether I wanted to or not. Just throw her to the wolves, literally. I quickly rushed to my sister, handed her over and refused to touch her the rest of the day. To this day, my niece will not go near me. It’s like she knows what I was thinking, even though I didn’t want to think it.

And another from that same post (Katie’s on a roll this month). Apparently me posting about my fears brings out some great lines from readers:

Even now, I hold newborns so infrequently that it still makes me worried for a second that I’ll zig when the parents zag and the baby will end up on the floor. Or that I’ll forget to cradle the head and her floppy neck will loll around until it just snaps off. The key is to do a seated hand off. Worst case scenario there is that you fumble the baby, but she gently falls in your lap and erupts into delighted giggles, having no idea how close she came to certain death.

Before I was a mom, I hated the hand off, but the soft spot on top of a baby’s head always freaked me out too. From what I could tell, even the slightest pressure of my gentle breath wafting over the soft spot would cause both significant brain damage and a lifetime of guilt.

Here’s a good one from Trev on my post about why Rachel and Joey belong together, not Rachel and Ross (there are a lot of really good comments on this post–I’d post several of them here, but they’re long. Thanks to Ali, Neha, Tracy, Molly, Red, Adrienne, and Tegan for their thoughts and vast knowledge of Friends).

Whereas Ross is no better than those drug addict parents who sell their children for 2 crack rocks, a half-eaten bologna sandwich, and a pocketful of shame, Joey is a model of paternal care. Is it any surprise that Ben ended up cold and alone, singing for the last couple of puffs on still-lit cigarette butts and spare change, and pandering to the blogosphere in the tournament of cuteness for the approval that he never got from his dad?

Cara wins the Most Awkward Encounter with a Police Officer award for this comment on my post about weird jobs:

The most unusual job I ever had was an “In-School Scouting Leader”: I brought a scouting program into inner-city elementary schools in Los Angeles, during class time. That was fun & rewarding, though it was strange when I got pulled over once by police and had to explain why there were short lengths of rope in the back of my VW bug: “Ummm, to teach boy scouts how to tie square knots.”

Again, the comments are too long to post them here, but there was a fantastic discussion about Tim Tebow and the responsibility of athletes to be charitable on this post.

Sarah wins the award for Best Survival Story in Four Sentences on my post about my fear of keys breaking off in the lock:

As a freshman in college, I broke off the key to my truck in the ignition. As a natural consequence, I was forced to live in the dorm parking garage, subsisting on used textbooks and the mud that flakes off of car tires. That lasted for several months, until they expelled me from school for poor attendance and for scaring the undergrads with the cautionary tale I had become. The locksmith never came.

John had a good follow up to that post as well:

The reality of #2 is that your neighbors, who also cannot return to their homes, must form a tight knit community with you as their leader, surviving by eating only what they can dig out of the ground and scrape off of the surrounding walls. Without any way to recharge your cell phones, you must assume you are alone in the world and obliged to repopulate the world for the good of humanity.

And finally, new reader Caitlin had some humorous thoughts on the Mini Tournament of Cuteness:

Wait– is Bailey the supercute little green plush dude with the black dog, or is Bailey the bad dog on the furniture with the supercute little green plush dude?

I voted for Charlotte. YES! YES, I’ll be your Valentine, little umbrella girl!

Well pick up where we left off last time:

This post is for guys, so here's something for the ladies.

23. How to serve rice in a classy way. I learned this from my friend Eric. After you make some sticky rice, scoop it out of the pot with a quarter cup measuring cup. Put that aside for one second while you dress the plate with a fancy ziz-zag of sauce. Then take the measuring cup of rice, turn it upside down on the plate (square plates work best for this), and pat the top of it until the rice falls out. It’ll hold the shape of the measuring cup. Put a little sprig of something on top (really, anything green and leafy will do). Don’t reveal your secret.

24. How to laugh at yourself. Show your weaknesses, your indulgences, your mistakes, your doubts, your goof-ups to the world, and the world will love you for it. At least I think that’s what’s happening…

25. How to take off a bra with one hand. I may have put this on one of these lists before. I’m having deja vu. Regardless, you should know how to do this. I could describe it, but you’re better off looking on YouTube for a how-to video. And then practice on a willing subject. Use this power wisely once you attain it. Do not, for example, undo your girlfriend’s bra in a restaurant or at a dinner party while she’s at the table.

26. How to ask questions: Only ask questions about things you genuinely want to know. Once you start doing this, you’ll realize that there are a lot of things that you genuinely want to know, and they’re much more invigorating than all of those questions that you used to ask out of obligation or expectation. And you’ll get much more interesting, honest answers too.

27. Flirtation is the key to keeping chemistry alive. I’ve always wondered how I might be able to maintain a high level of chemistry with a woman after months or years or a lifetime. So much changes over time: Your looks, your personality, your interests, your friends, your priorities, your sleep schedule. But one thing that you have complete control over is how you flirt with your significant other. Make that choice every day. Flirt incessantly and shamelessly without expectation (don’t flirt to get something from your partner–flirt to give something to your partner…attention, love, a little hormonal surge. Any of those will do.)

28. Don’t complain on Facebook or Twitter unless it’s funny. This goes back to #24 a little bit. I would go as far as to say that this is a universal rule. It’s about more than finding a good way to engage and connect with people online. It’s also about finding a way to both feel your pain and find something lifegiving in it at the same time. Think about this the next time you have bad news or an annoyance to share on Facebook. How can you share it so that people will smile instead of taking pity on you?

How many of these do you already know and do?

You have until Thursday evening at 8:00 pm CST to vote, and then I’m going to pit the winner of this mini-tournament against the winner of last year’s tournament for a weekend-long battle royale.

Please only vote once, but you can solicit votes for your favorite.

Also, I keep forgetting to post this: I wrote a guest post for a foodie blog the other day. If you love fried chicken, I think you’ll enjoy this post.

Bailey

Charlotte

Mortimer

 Take Our Poll

But let’s not forget the glory of those awkward years. Let’s not forget puberty. Let’s not forget this:

Yes, these are my middle-school ID cards. I found them in a drawer when I was home for Christmas. Please fixate not just on the sleekly combed hair in 6th grade, the silk shirt in 7th grade, and the Neck and the sweater vest in 8th grade. And these weren’t photos take on random days of me wearing random outfits: these were the outfits I chose for my student ID photo sessions.

These aren’t even my best photos. I’m saving those for the tournament.

The Tournament of Awkwardness. (somewhere, trumpets blare)

Last year I created a Tournament of Cuteness on the blog, and it was a blast. Check it out if you don’t know what it is. This year I’m pretty much doing the opposite–instead of celebrating cuteness, I want to celebrate our awkwardness.

Now, you may be asking, “Why would I let you post a photo of me at the most awkward and vulnerable time of my life, a photo that hundreds of strangers will see and vote on?”

Good question. Here’s why:

1. Although the contest is free to enter, I will be putting up a cash prize equal to the number of contestants. I will also be matching that prize for a charity of the winning contestant’s choice. So if Jane P of Omaha wins the contest out of 400 total competitors, she’ll win $400 and I’ll give an additional $400 to Jane’s favorite charity. Thus I’m hoping there is an incentive for you to not only enter the contest yourself, but also get your friends to enter, as the prize pool gets bigger for each additional person who enters.
2. Self-deprecating humor is awesome. If you’re able to laugh at yourself, you can do anything.
3. You will have the satisfaction of bringing joy to hundreds of people. You’ll be the Santa Claus of awkwardness.
4. I’m happy to link to your blog, Twitter, or Facebook page in case you’d like some free publicity. The further you go in the competition (it’s tournament-style, single elimination), the more publicity you’ll get.

Got it? Here are the rules:

1. Submissions are due on Sunday, February 12 at noon. Send one photo (any photo–it doesn’t have to be a school photo. Candid photos are fine too) to jamey.stegmaier@gmail.com with the subject line “Tournament of Awkwardness.”
2. You may only submit yourself to the contest. If your sibling or parent or best friend was way more awkward than you, get them to submit directly to me.
3. One photo per person. Don’t send me 5 photos and tell me to choose.
4. You may include a caption or description of that awkward time in your life. I’ll label photos with your first name, last initial, and age at the time the photo was taken (if you give me that information).
5. You may solicit votes from friends or family, but preferably you’ll ask them to vote for the most awkward photo. They shouldn’t necessarily vote for you just because they know you. And please don’t cheat. Someone tried to cheat in the previous tournament, and I can tell when it happens. Just vote once.

Now, I understand that this tournament may end up being a total dud. I’m happy to embarrass myself in front of the world, but perhaps most people will choose not to. So if I only get a few submissions, I promise that I’ll still post them on a blog entry in a few weeks.

So that’s it! I look forward to seeing everyone at their most awkward.

1. In our AP Government class you sat in the front row right in front of Mr. Schrieber’s overhead projector in an obvious attempt to curry favor with the old man. On a scale of 1-Anoop (a former classmate), how much do you suck up to your current boss and what’s the best result to ever come from your suck-uppyness? I don’t think anyone will ever achieve a true Anoop, but I think my score has dropped quite a bit since then. In fact, I often have to remind myself that I can’t talk to my boss like that. The best result to ever come from my suck-uppyness was signing an amazing author who was way out of our league to a fledging fiction publishing companythat I started in ’10 with a few fellow St. Louis writers (it’s a passion project on the side of my day job).
   

   My High School Graduation Photo

2. In our pre-GPS high school days you could not drive from your house to the closest Chick-Fil-A with out getting lost. Where is the coolest place where you’ve gotten lost since high school? Fortunately GPS was invented since we graduated—otherwise I’d still be driving around looking for my first apartment after college. I recently took a solo trip to Ireland, and I spent most of my time lost there. Which is not at all a bad thing when you’re exploring a new country.
3. In high school you thought you were good looking, but you were also a huge nerd. Which do you feel has held you back more in life, your good looks or your nerdiness? How would your life be different if you were just a dumb average looking dude? Good question. I’ve gone partially grey in the hair now (more Buscemi grey than Clooney grey), and I’ve only gotten nerdier. I would say my life would be almost exactly the same if I were a dumb averaging looking dude, but I’d own fewer cats.
4. You took 8 years of Japanese in high school. When you go to a Benihana, do you try to impress your date by talking to your American waiters in Japanese? Also, do you order chicken or shrimp? And have you ever learned how to make that volcano out of onions? Although I studied abroad in Kyoto my junior year and reached the level of fluency that the Japanese-Language Proficiency Test describes as “Able to date Japanese women without sounding like an idiot,” I have since forgotten almost all of my Japanese. For your second and third questions, you’re thinking of China and Australia (another island nation, but not the same as Japan).
5. In high school you spent a considerable amount of time writing love letters to freshmen girls. Do you have an outlet for writing now? I’ve spent the last year on Match.com writing e-mails to women even younger than Carter Severson (at her current age! She was a freshman I dated when I was a senior), so yes, that proud Stegmaier tradition continues. As you’ve noticed by the abundance of hyperlinks in this Q&A, I also write a daily blog.
6. In high school you joined Model UN to meet girls. As a former member of an award winning Model UN team, which award nominated NBC sitcom had a better Model UN themed episode this season “Parks and Recreation” or “Community?” I love them both, but I’m definitely going with Community here. The science works out.

What do you want your high school class to know about you now?

I’ve heard the phrase “everything happens for a reason” thousands of times. From strangers on Match.com to friends and family, it’s a very common phrase, and I don’t doubt that people believe it. We’re human. We want to feel like our lives have meaning, that we are part of something bigger than themselves.

I personally believe that we most certainly are part of something much bigger than ourselves–something so much bigger, in fact, that everything in our lives does not actually happen for a reason. Good things, bad things, little things, big things. Things happen, and we give them reason.

I don’t think this is a black and white rule–in fact, it’s mostly a fuzzy gray area. I think some things do actually happen for a reason. But we have absolutely no idea what those things are.

Why is this important for me to share? For that matter, why is it a pet peeve of mine? Because I think there are times when it’s a hurtful, dishonest thing to say or think, and there are other times, some of them life-defining moments, when personal responsibility is extremely important. Some examples of the two:

1. When a child falls down and scrapes his knee, did that happen for a reason? When a child gets cancer, is that for a reason? What about an adult? When you’re playing a videogame and you achieve a high score, is that for a greater reason? What about reading this blog entry? Is there a reason for that? My point is that “everything” is a huge, all-encompassing word. Think about it on a cellular or molecular level. Think about how many “things” happen every second, every millisecond. Do you truly believe that every one of those things happens for a reason? I believe in God, and I believe in reason, but I don’t believe that every single little thing happens for a reason. I believe that when a child scrapes his knee, God didn’t push him down to teach him a lesson. Maybe it’s just me, but I believe in a God that’s much bigger than a schoolyard bully.
2. When you succeed at something, does that just “happen” out of thin air, or was the reason that you worked hard at it and you persevered and you deserve it? And when you fail at something, does that just “happen,” or did you personally come up short? There is great strength in admitting that you don’t have complete control over your life, because you don’t. You could get hit by a car tomorrow and there’s a 97% chance that you couldn’t have done anything to prevent it. But that 3% matters. Take responsibility for that 3% and make the world what you want it to be. The world is not out to get you.

I believe that everything does not happen for a reason. Rather, I believe that some things happen for a reason. What do you believe?

I’m not even sure why I think this is a thing that can happen. I’m sure it happened once in a movie I saw in my formative years (ages 1-29). Little things in movies always make their mark on me. I have a vague recollection of a movie in which a swarm of killer bees fight their way into the house and take down a person. It doesn’t make sense, but because I saw it in a movie, I no longer walk naked around the house covered in honey.

Back to the key in the lock. Have any of you ever had this happened? Here’s the average scenario that crosses my mind:

Picture me stumbling from my car to the back entrance to my building, my arms draped in grocery bags so that I don’t have to take two trips. It’s a good thing I’m very “strong” and “manly.”

I make it to the door. I don’t want to put down my groceries lest they get water and/or feces on them (feces is everywhere. And yes, that’s officially the new title of my autobiography: Feces Is Everywhere, by Jamey Robert Stegmaier [the "Robert" is there so strangers know I'm a man]), so I grapple for the right key and insert it into the lock. This is the danger zone.

Because my arm is weighed down by bags full of mango-orange juice, cat treats, and 2-for-1 Breyer’s ice cream, I am acutely aware that this is the moment when most keys break off in locks. So I am very careful, and I manage to open the door and make it inside before I am attacked by someone waiting in the parking lot for a resident like me to fumble with my keys.

If the key actually broke off in the lock, I’d envision two things happening:

1. I would immediately go into survival mode. This means that I’d eat as many of the groceries, starting with the cat food, to build up a thick layer of fat to protect me from the elements. I would, as is my way, create a crude loincloth out of my environmentally friendly canvas grocery bags. Then, using only my wits, charm, and lighter fluid, I would create a fire in the parking lot to attract the attention of my cat in the hopes that he would understand that I’m locked out and would either call the police or FedEx the spare key to me.
2. Because I would have not only prevented myself but also other people from entering the building, I would expect my fellow residents to quickly turn on me. Gentle reminders that I kindly invited them to my Festivus party would fall on deaf ears, and they would chase me from the property.

As you can imagine, I don’t want any of those things to happen. A simple solution would simply be to not carry more groceries than I can handle, but that’s preposterous, and I will not consider it.

Have you ever had a key break off in a lock? Did your worst nightmares come true immediately afterwards?

1. An element of misdirection.
2. An element of confusion.
3. No hurt feelings or physical pain.
4. No major inconvenience.

Here’s an example of a good prank I pulled a few years ago. But read on, because here’s an example of a great prank pulled on me last week.

I walked out to my car on Friday evening to find a layer of ice coating the entire car, so I was scraping the passenger side of the car when I noticed a sticker adorning the passenger door. My first reaction was that someone had placed a permanent sticker on my car. But I quickly realized that it was a large magnet, not a sticker…and that it had my phone number on it. I snapped a photo.

It was then that a few realizations struck me, causing me to laugh so hard for the entire drive home:

1. I had been pranked.
2. I had no idea when I had been pranked–I could have been driving around for days with that magnet on my car.
3. I had potentially been driving around for days completely oblivious that I had a magnet on my car with my real phone number and the revelation that I loved cats.
4. No one had yet to call me to take me up on the offer.

Of course, I had to post it on Facebook immediately. Within a few hours, the photo had generated more than 30 likes and over 40 comments. A few of my favorites:

From Jesus F: “I saw the magnet on Thursday morning and thought you were doing it on purpose for a blog post. I had one of those “oh, Jamey…” moments. Then it was still there yesterday, so I thought it was for real. And I thought, “Oh, Jamey…” again.”

My response: “That makes this even more hilarious, the fact that you (and possibly other people who know me) saw the magnet and didn’t even think it was a prank.”

And this one (I think I’m sooo clever):

From Sarah E: “I’d have loved to hear the story of when some girl with a cute phone voice called and you had no clue why she was asking you to “care for her cat”…now THAT just might take the cake!”

My response: “Especially if she uses a different word for “cat.”"

In the end, it wasn’t until today that the prankster (my coworker, Linda) stepped forward. She was disappointed, as were many of the commenters, that I had discovered the magnet so early into the prank. I might consider putting it back on the car until I get a call or two, just for the story. We’ll see. What do you think?

The type of guy I saw in both commercials was a guy with an shaggy afro haircut (I’m pretty sure that’s the correct term to use regardless of the race of the person).

Seeing the two commercials so close to another another made me realize that I’ve seen that type of guy before. He’s on a promotional poster around the corner from my house. He’s on television, usually in a high school or college posse of friends. And he’s in most party scenes in movies.

He’s a friend with a ‘fro. You know, a laid-back guy, just hangin’ out, takin’ it easy, lookin’ to have a good time, all smiles, whatever, no big deal, it’s cool man, just happy to be here.

Friends with ‘fros are everywhere on commercials, TV shows, and movies…so why haven’t I ever seen one in real life? Do they really exists, or are they just the laid-back version of the Sasquatch?

I’m not even quite sure I understand the appeal. If friends with ‘fros are so rare in real life but so prevalent on TV, what is it about them that makes TV producers want to cast them? Is it just the distinct hair, or are they getting in touch with something deep down inside all of us that wants a really laid back, Frisbee-playing, tie-dye-wearing, scruffy looking friend with a ‘fro? Maybe it’s in our genes.

Have any of you ever had a friend with a ‘fro? Or do they only exist on the silver screen?

For Contrivances 1-10, click here.