Christmas Day in San Diego

Christmas morning, I had to borrow insulin from Dad, because I brought the almost empty vial instead of the full one. I have to bring a LOT with me, so it's understandable, plus this is the first trip I've been on since starting on the pump. I knew he had all the same stuff, so it would be ok if I forgot something, but it was still amusing.

Ant opened his presents early so we could get him to the train. We were just leaving the neighborhood as the caravan pulled in (they were trying to get 8 people up, out of the house and on the road for a 45 minute drive in time to see Ant off), so Rob hopped out and dug through the stockings (actually big overstuffed gift bags) for Ant's, everyone called their love and well wishes and we headed out.

When we returned, we ate quiche and opened presents for the next few hours, then everyone pulled up a corner of a couch or the floor and took a nap.

I got really spoiled. In addition to my immediate family's generosity, Kate drew my name and did some really nice things for me, and those stockings were insane.

Dad had an injection in his hand to break up the collagen buildup that was curling his fingers in. After 24 hours, he went back in and the doctor manipulated his hand. It was gross to watch, but his hand is straight again.

I got the dough rolled out, cut and baked during the Christmas movie- I squeezed in after the pies and before the ham. Holy shit- ham, turkey, homemade mac and cheese, broccoli cheese casserole, roasted carrots and cauliflower. We were all so stuffed that half of us took another walk. I started icing the gingerbread too late for much participation, so Dad and Rich helped. Emily and Kyle want to help decorate, so I'll do the rest today. Right now I've got to get ready to join Dad at yoga so we can eat fried chicken and waffles tonight. Good grief. I may have to take up running just to keep up with all this food.

Christmas Eve in San Diego

We took Ant to a skate park in the morning while running some last minute errands. It was kind of a sad skate park, but Ant tried out both his board and his internal shock absorption system- both are working well. He hasn't skated in a couple months, and the pressure was on with the audience present. Dad and I stayed off the concrete, but Richard went right for the action shots.

It's been very hard to get into the kitchen. With 16 people for dinner on Christmas Eve, there was a lot of prep work, noshing, and drink refilling. I had to keep my eyes peeled for an opening, so all I got done on Thursday was the dough. Note: it was a terrible idea to do all this here.

Dinner was fantastic: two prime ribs, twice-baked potatoes, carrots, green beans with slivered almonds, crescent rolls and/or French bread, and miscellaneous baked goodies for dessert.

Ant sat next to me and had some very lively conversations. He loved the dinner (that was so delicious, thanks to Kate's efforts and hours, assisted by her daughters) so much that all he could say sometimes was "sooo gooood." Dana (a massage therapist) got a hold of Ant and worked on some of his skateboarding strains and taught him some stretches, but it was fun to watch his eyes roll back in his head while she was working on his neck.

He was happy and full of hugs for everyone, and late that night he came to talk to me about plans for the next morning and we ended up talking about all kinds of things that are going on in his world right now, more shit that was going on in the past that I didn't know about, and plans, ideas, and thoughts about the future. It was one of the best conversations I think we've ever had, and it was nice to talk outside of school, work, and the daily grind. Life is rarely ideal and usually different than expectations, and Ant can be happy and get along in any situation, but this was so much better than that. Things were not perfect or anything, but so good, and he was so much happier than just getting along and having a good time. He was warm and loving and good-natured and hovered at that almost-being-silly level of happy. It was fantastic to see. Kyle and Emily said last night that they, along with Cody, had been looking forward to hanging out with Ant more, and were sad when they learned he'd gone on to the next family gathering. We all were.

Wednesday in San Diego

Yesterday we went to two surf/skate shops and Ant picked out every component for his new board. He got the trucks and deck at one store; the wheels, bearings, grip tape and hardware at the other. The employee offered to put it together, but Ant ended up taking over. The finished board looks really good, and he says it rides really smooth. It's neat to see him so excited, and he's really earned this. The grip tape doesn't normally have artwork on it, so that's cool, and he ended up matching the hardware up to the colors on the grip tape. I'm not sure how that worked out so well, but it looks awesome. The underside looks awesome too with the wood pattern and red. It's well put together and uniquely Ant. We went to a skate park this morning to let him really try it out, and he went exploring around Dad's.

Tuesday to San Diego

The drive to San Diego was pretty good. There was no snow over Donner Pass- it was just rainy and foggy, but somebody still spun out just ahead of us. There was definitely some sketchy sections, but I had some good tires and we went carefully.

Riley's tranquilizer didn't kick in until about 6 o'clock that night, so that sucked.

Ant was my navigator, and watched the roads with me. We had a nice time talking and some good conversation, sprinkled with me occasionally yelling at traffic.

Jenny: "FUCK YOU OREGON, WHERE'D YOU LEARN TO DRIVE!?!?!"

Ant: "Oregon?"

I gave Ant some headphones to drown me out with, but he's only got a few songs on his phone, so once we got into L.A., he was able to download Pandora and we listened to the Cypress Hill station.

I'll try to keep you posted this time.

Diabeetus Problems

I didn't think my sleep was THAT fitful, jeez...

Nacho Ranch

I have a lot to get rolling on, but I wanted to share this with you.

So today was Ant's last day of exams and he's off tomorrow for an early start to winter break, so he was headed to Kirsten's. He was waiting on me to drive him, and I got home late. His chores were finished and he was anxious to go, but I needed a few minutes to eat, as my blood sugar was low. He was texting Kirsten, who said they had just gotten pizza and asked Ant to bring ranch dressing, because she couldn't eat pizza without it.

We just ran out of ours last night, or I'm sure he would have grabbed it. Ant tells me all this, and of course my first thought is about where I can stop to get... wait a minute. No! He didn't ask me, mind you- I just do that. But I didn't offer- I thought for a second. "Ok, well... I need to get some cash for your allowance, so I'll tell you what. We'll go to the shopping center where my bank is, I'll get your cash, and if you want you can go into the grocery store and-"

"Meet at the checkout?" Ant asked.

"Nope. You can buy it with your money."

"I'm not buying her ranch." He texted this update and waited for a response. "She says she'll kill me if I don't bring ranch... I'll be alright."

AHA!!!!!

Yesterday's Blog

I went to Smith’s this morning hungry, and didn’t buy a doughnut.  I had to get a new something for the potluck (brought the other to a friend’s house) and forgot to pack my breakfast. I bought some imitation cuties (which I’m going to aggravate myself over for the next week and a half, because they never peel as easy) and some unsweetened iced tea. Seriously, I wandered through the bakery section and out again without buying my breakfast there.

 

What item is currently in my purse?

a) a small jar of jalapeño jam

b) a National Geographic magazine

c) a windsock

d) a hammer and nails

 

This morning, Ant asked me what a good name for an owl would be. He said his friend just got a pet owl that he’d ordered online. Suddenly, I was no longer entertained. I could see how I looked to him- like some overzealous PETA advocate who takes things too seriously. I don’t imagine there would be tons of carnivorous PETA members, but other than that, he’s mostly right. And yes, I do recognize the contradiction. But Jennyway.

 

He saw this online purchase as no big deal- just thought it was cool that his friend got an owl and wanted to leave it at that. Our conversation very quickly derailed as I threatened to show him documentaries on wild animal trade. When we got to: “I don’t need to watch a documentary just because I like owls,” I decided it was time to walk the dog. I took Riley out and breathed in some cold air and thought about what I wanted to say next. I tried to compare my experience to his and while I do think I did a large amount of weeping for the world when I was a teenager (and ok, maybe a bit longer than that), I also recognize that he has always been kind to animals. I thought I wanted to tell him that his thoughts scare the shit out of me and he needs to widen his view. But that’s ridiculous. He is right where he’s supposed to be at this age, and while some teenagers have a bigger sense of the world, this is a time when they are undercooked and self-involved. I mean, my martyred view of the world did not propel me into action, just paralysis. Also, as far as constructive conversation goes, that would get us nowhere. So when we reconvened in the kitchen, I told him the same thing I used to say when we lived together before: that everything- EVERYTHING- has a good and bad side to it, and it’s not fair to look at just one side. (And that goes for me too, because I can certainly see how cool it would be to have a pet owl because they are really neat creatures and I’m trying really hard not to add a but in here.) Ant immediately acknowledged that, and said he could see how it might be a problem to order an animal online, and of course he’d want them to be well taken care of.

 

I suspected that it was illegal, so I just went to look it up. I checked the U.S. Fish and Wildlife website too, but this one lays it down specifically related to owls.

 

http://www.internationalowlcenter.org/owls-humans/owlsaspets

 

The short answer is: of course it’s illegal. Without spending the next few hours researching the laws and definitions and classifications and permits and varying species of owl, I am reasonably comfortable with the assumption that you should probably not be buying an owl online. I’m also reasonably sure that this friend didn’t buy it himself, which makes me want to slap the idiot who bought it for him, then turn him in. This is why government regulation is so often necessary- because sometimes people lack common sense. It’s understandable- I often find myself short on it, but there are reasons for laws and consequences for our actions. There’s my wildlife tangent.

 

What am I going to do about this? Show Ant what I found and talk with him about it. Let him see the reasons and share those with his friend. I probably can’t call the owl SWAT team, but if I can find out enough information, you can be sure I’ll relay that to the people whose job it is to make that determination. Maybe this kid is out telling the world anyway, and enough people will react with something other than “Oh, that’s cool.”

 

My purpose here was not to go on an owl tangent, but when was the last time you had one of those?! Really, I just wanted to say that I’m all crazy lately trying to accomplish too many things and I’m having to cross or postpone things off my many lists and I have to remember at the center of this- what’s really important to me- are the relationships I have, and I find that my patience is too fragile under stress. Granted, teenager brain is very trying, and the things I think that just make sense- elemental things- are not yet solidified for him. For example, rinsing dishes and putting them directly in the dishwasher to avoid congealed food and an annoyed stepmother- that one takes daily prodding. Last night I asked him why I have to tell him that over and over. At first I got the standard “I don’t know,” but when he saw I wasn’t accepting that, he explored a little further and told me he thinks he’ll come back and finish it later. That at least reminds me that it’s not intentionally disrespectful, but I did say that it feels that way.

 

At least five times a day, I mentally apologize to you, Mom. I really didn’t see the big deal, I really didn’t mean anything by it. It’s funny how when your perspective changes, you just incorporate it in without tracking the shift.

 

Yep, I get to practice my communication and patience and perspective daily, and last night I found myself wondering why I get mad so easily. I felt like I should go live in the woods for a year- no isolated cabin, crazy eyes, or collection of guns, but actually out in the woods building my own shelters and killing my own food. I bet that would help me sort out anxiety from real problems. Ant called me a hoarder recently, and while he amended that thought considerably, I have been looking at what I have. I see the same problem there as in many places: unfinished projects. Those things have nagging attachments, and while it feels good to finish something- anything- the nice feeling of completion doesn’t last nearly as long as the procrastination does.

 

As for Ant, I was happy with the way our conversation ended this morning- he said it would be bad if animals were sent through the mail, then giggled about the idea of me sending him to L.A. that way. “You can expect him in about 3-4 days. I put snacks in there, but you’re gonna want to have some food ready.”

 

I’m no kid in a kid’s game

I did what I did, I’ve got no one to blame

But I don’t give up- no, I don’t ever give up

It’s all I’ve got, it’s my claim to fame

-Patty Griffin

The answer is b. A friend gave it to me for the article it has on the teenage brain.

Stressmas

I evicted a couple of stink bugs from my storage unit and now I feel horrible. They were all snuggled in for the winter and I just threw them out into the snow. Actually, they are still in the cardboard boxes they took refuge in, and they're on the landing, but I still feel horrible. I told Ant that and he asked if I thought about putting them back in the storage closet and I said yes. He looked up from his phone- I could see him in the reflection of the sliding glass door as I pondered at the balcony- and he was just staring at me. "Would that be insane?" I asked. I did put the boxes together to provide some protection from the outside.

He helped me set up the tree and he decorated it. I taught him how to make baked chicken and we talked about politics. We made plans for dinners and then he helped me purge my gift wrap and tiny box collection. I organized my gift wrap bin and begged friends to do their gift wrapping at my place. Ant said the problem is that I don't give and send enough presents. I like that solution.

I landed smack in the middle of my annual Christmas anxiety tonight. Let's hope I get a grip within the next ten days. Tomorrow is supposed to be ugly sweater day because that's a thing now, so I'm going to wear my lovely green Mickey Mouse Christmas t shirt for the potluck that I just remembered is next Tuesday and I bought a goddamned bundt cake for it tonight. Jesus.

CP Fighter

I wrote this like a week ago. Sigh...

The other night I was out with Sarah for happy hour, and we went to World Market to walk off the food. Did you know they sell delightfully whimsical utensils individually? That makes for a great work fork and spoon instead of having to use plastic or steal from the home utensil set.

Last night I christened my Crock Pot with some horrible recipe I found online. It wasn’t healthy at all, and if that’s not bad enough, it wasn’t even GOOD. But whatever, it was four ingredients, very easy, and it got the Crock Pot out of the box. Of course, that turned out to be dangerous. I held the box and Ant pulled the Crock Pot out, but because he is still learning how the world works, he didn’t know that he should continue holding the Crock Pot upright. The lid fell first, and directly hit the floor where it thankfully did not break. The stoneware did not hit the floor directly because it broke its fall on my shin. The stoneware both hit my shin hard and scraped downward, which was a painful yet interesting sensation. Ant felt horrible and tried to make me feel better by telling me that MMA fighters deliberately kick wood to strengthen their shins. I’m sure that doesn’t really strengthen anything so much as build tolerance or

Actually, I just looked this up.

“Muay Thai fighters and Kickboxers train with repeated strikes using the forearms and shins. In Thailand, before the advent of heavy bags, pads and other modern tools, they would kick banana trees and other hard objects to condition their shins.  Many modern day practitioners use bamboo as a striking surface to both deaden the nerves in the shin.  Once the striking is done, the bamboo rods are rolled against the shin to further compress the bone.   This stress also creates micro fractures in the bone that induce repair of the bone material which leads to a more robust honey comb structure that is more resilient to damage.”

http://www.scifighting.com/2013/12/08/19992/kickboxers-get-tougher-bones/

So that’s roughly what I figured, only without the vocabulary, but basically scar tissue being stronger, building bone density, yadda yadda. This is apparently known as bone remodeling. Gggggguhhhhhh gross.

Let me know if you need me to kick a Crock Pot.

Enough for one year

I am so goddamned depressed right now that all I can do is brush my teeth, take a Benadryl and go to bed.

I just had a two hour conversation with Ant that crushed all my delusions. If that wasn't heavy enough, he taught me even more lessons in perspective and that everyone's glasses are colored.

The goal hasn't changed, and some other crucial bottom lines haven't either, but this kid continues to expand my view.

Very full Saturday

Yoga at 9, tennis at 10:30, lunch with Amanda, the Reno Comic Con with friends, and THE FALL DANCE FESTIVAL!

Didn't know if I was going to make it this year, but it's a safe bet now!

I brought Riley to my friend's apartment for yoga this morning- that was the perfect combination of distance and adventure. Even in a very calm place with slow yoga, we still managed to startle her once or twice. My friend said it was a good thing we weren't doing aerobics. Riley spent an hour actively sniffing the apartment and every blade of grass on the way.

Tennis is always awesome, and the Comic Con had me impressed. I'll tell you more about that later.

When I got home from the shows of enthusiasm, I sat with poor creaky old Riley for a minute as is our custom, letting her greet me slowly, then I went to say hello to Mini and couldn't find her. Then I heard a racket and found Mini out on the balcony, where she had apparently been for the last five hours. She was dirty and panicked, yowling her head off at me. I cleaned her up, cuddled and apologized profusely. She gobbled her food as if she'd been outside for days and flopped down on the carpet, exhausted.

Both animals ought to be sufficiently worn out today, as am I. Time to relax and enjoy some dance!

Can't find my big girl panties.

I got assigned yet another admin duty today. There is nothing to do about it but cheerfully accept and make a couple jokes, but ARRRGGGHHHHHHHHHH.

I am not organized enough to manage the ones I already have, and they are piling up around my ears. Also, I fucking hate them. My job barely resembles the one I was hired to do. Granted, my boss had no choice in any of those decisions, but again, ARRRGGGHH.

Mom says this one will look good on my performance evaluation, and I'm learning all kinds of new things, and this certainly challenges my organizational skills and blah blah BLARRRGGHHHHH.

J says there is no point in spending any time on pouting (I'm paraphrasing, but I'm pretty sure that was his point.), but I disagree. I think it's delightfully Pollyanna of him to be so immediately resilient, but I'm not that emotionally mature yet. I also think it is important to acknowledge what sucks, lest it mow over any and all surprise flowers along the way. You name it, you sit with it, you take a bath and make some tea and try to be ok with it a little sooner than you'd like to be. And maybe with lots of practice you get a little better at dealing with it.

I can either stagger under the load until I just don't care to try anymore, or I can remember that this is a means, not an end. I'll do my best and yes, it will serve some purpose. But while I do my best to carry all the shit I do not want to do, I will also do my best to put it down at the end of the day and find some lightness to carry me home where I can do anything I damn well choose.

I learned the other day that I will never be as organized as I try to be. I will never remember it all, I will always be messy, and I will never quite have my shit together. These fucking stupid tasks will make me crazy angry because I cannot manage them as thoroughly or efficiently as I want to. There are other personalities better suited for that, but we are short of personalities overall, so we've got to make do, and I'm the kind of person who wants to pitch in. That's a good thing, as is the fact that it's my perfectionistic preference that makes these frigging tasks so overwhelmingly awful. I would choose to do them well, and it frustrates me that they are not going to be pretty. Not pretty, but done. I might as well go sit down with that one, because it's going to take me a while to accept it.

Hope Falls Eternal

Two months ago, I met someone.

It was random and completely unexpected, and in my former mother-in-law's kitchen, which is amusing for a several reasons. I hadn't slept well, was in my Topaz uniform of jeans, a sweatshirt, and FUggs, and was cleaning up unhappy dog shit because Mike hasn't learned in 11 years that feeding Riley nonstop table scraps upsets her stomach. As one of my favorite people on earth noted, I met this guy at far from my best... and he was still so nervously interested that he introduced himself twice.

This guy- we'll call him Noodle Head, which doesn't bode well for this story- was not someone I was interested in. Not my cup of noodles. However, the universe speaks sometimes, and sometimes I listen. See, the very night before, I had a sudden, raging urge to smoke a cigarette. It had been many, long months since I'd had such an urge, and most of the time I can procrastinate it away, but this time I was climbing the walls. "Well duh!" you say. "You were at Topaz!" Yes, I had an awful moment at dinner when I found myself around this familiar table with Mike, Elaine, Ant, and Ant's girlfriend without the central person that brought us all together, and I was sad for that and idea that nobody in that room was thrilled with him at that point, but that was a very brief moment, and the rest of the evening was really nice and warm and cozy with yummy food and good conversation. When the urge to smoke hit me, it was so powerful that I texted a friend that I thought might smoke occasionally and had I not been an hour and a half away, I would have went to find him. Why not go to the store? Well, because then I'd smoke the pack and maybe buy another.

That night I stayed in the bedroom with Elaine while Mike slept in his recliner in the living room- a preference he swore by. During the night, Elaine got up to pee and stepped in Riley's runny poo in the bathroom. I got up to take Riley out. She wandered away and scared the hell out of me, because she was made fearless by her need to poop, she is increasingly deaf, and there had been lots of bear sightings the night before. Be woken up at 2am and told your dog has shit all over the place, take her tasty bunny rabbit looking ass outside, then watch her trot straight into the trees where the bears were, oblivious to your calls. That'll get your heart pumping. There was another potty trip that night, and I woke up the next morning to the sounds of a Topaz regular talking shit about my untrained dog.

I put on my sweatshirt and jeans, pulled my hair up, pushed my sleeves up, and went out into the kitchen to go clean up some shit. I startled the poor regular, who had no idea I was in the next room. There was another guy in a chair in the kitchen, who hopped up to meet me. I had no idea anyone else was there. Enter Noodle Head.

The regular felt so bad about talking shit, he apologized in his own special way and spent the rest of the day being really nice to me. Another regular invited me out on the boat, another regular joined us, but Mike, Elaine, Ant, and Kirsten declined, so I spent the next few hours on the loveliest boat ride- drinking beer, talking with a friend I don't get to see much, talking with a couple regulars I don't know well, and when we stopped at the shore, Noodle Head got out, walked WAY out of the way, and lit a cigarette.

Well.

We talked for a long time there, and I learned several things that surprised me. I'm going to not lay out all his personal details, but I was impressed. We talked more and I found myself struck. Who WAS this guy? As the boat rounded the lake, the beer was exceeding its holding tank, and I was wearing jeans, so they dropped me off at Mike's dock, and motored slowly off across the lake again. I went inside for my Topaz movie nap.

In keeping with my unhealthy cravings, I had also been yearning for a chicken fried steak for WEEKS, so when the regulars cajoled me to join them at the Lodge for dinner, I finally caved when they said they'd eaten that very dish the night before and it was amazing. I went, we talked, we laughed, and when Noodle Head was able to get a word in, he was increasingly interesting. He was disappointed I was driving Ant and Kirsten home that night, and when he asked for my number, I already had it written down in my pocket.

Then we talked for a month. We talked regularly, almost nightly, and had nice getting to know each other conversations. We tried making plans, but we were both very busy, and his schedule was not conducive to much more than working and sleeping. At one point, he said one of my very favorite things ever said about me, which was, "You play a lot of sports." Why, yes! Yes, I do.

When I tell you that I am not going to lay out all his business, just know that it's no shit. I did get unrequested confirmation of this from the regulars, but a lot of that was just evident. Being that he's a Noodle Head, I get how it sounds, but I promise you, this guy was legitimately a good guy with his priorities so straight, he had tunnel vision.

So we eventually got our shit together, went out on a date, and had a really nice time. I'd say that we were surprisingly aligned. It was a good night, and I was not the only one who thought so. We spoke a couple days later, when he let me know that the world had come crashing down. He didn't put it like this, and wouldn't, but that shitstorm came down because we went on that date. And no, he wasn't doing anything wrong.



That was a month ago. I have been very sad for a month, and am having a lot of trouble letting it go. I hate that we had this great, awkward meeting, and it's a story we don't get to tell anyone. I hate that I met this guy without a website and had to judge him based on who he was rather than what his pictures conveyed, and right now my only recourse is a website. I hate that it worked- the surprise, not looking for anything- and I can't get myself back to an unsuspecting state. I hate that I was not wrong about him, but no one else will ever know that. I hate that the simple things I want are apparently such a tall goddamn order. I hate that I had a legitimate connection with someone, but still ended up with the same result.

I keep asking myself why I am still so wrapped up in this. Nothing more interesting going on, sure. And I can certainly list what was wrong- there were all kinds of things that would never have worked. But while I can feel the shrugs and I'm trying so hard not to feel bad about feeling bad, I'm still getting messages. Try not to roll your eyes.

On Tuesday, I came home to find a crew cutting all the branches off a tree along my street. I was immediately upset, as this did not seem to be a sick or dead tree. I saw several more trees marked with pink spray paint, and called the office. I eventually got some answers, and learned that all the pink marked trees were coming down- some were dead, some were aesthetically displeasing.

Even my tree is being trimmed- my solace, the tree that filters the light and made my place feel like home as soon as I walked in the door. The branches have to be four feet away from the building, which- if you've seen my tree- will be a lot of trimming. Thank god I'm not going to lose it altogether.

October has been a rough month. I feel pretty isolated at work- I went from managing one of the busiest corners of the hospital, surrounded by friends and constant, direct opportunities to help people to a distant corner and admin projects to an even more isolated corner and even bigger admin projects. I feel like I am no good at my job, probably because it doesn't resemble anything close to the job it started out as. It is so fun when I do get to do my main job- it feels like fun. I'm trying to be optimistic- have been trying for a year now, and most days I succeed.

Last week I had one of the lowest days I've had in a very long time. I tried to avoid anger, but I just sank into this powerless pit of sadness. October started out so warm and full, and was ending so cold- the worst kind- the wet, windy cold with not just leaves coming down, but whole, loved trees, some that bloomed with pink flowers. The metaphor was miserable, and then I woke up in the middle of the night- wide awake, perused Facebook for distraction, and saw a post from a local news channel that said, "We'll finish the calendar on a warm note in Reno..."

And it did- just not quite the warmth I wanted. I don't know what the purpose of all that time was- why I had to get my goddamn hopes up. Something tells me that's not the end of Noodle Head. Maybe he's not really a noodle head. Maybe I'm right and maybe I'm just comforting myself. Doesn't really matter, because either way I have to put it down, and I can't seem to do it yet.

But the messages I am hearing are urging me further along my path like little fairies or the smell of really great grilled food, and I want to follow.

"...though the side of my heart has left me again, I hear music up above."

Batting around

Insulin pump problems.

Old cubicle

Ant was pretty good. Wish he'd ever been interested in playing.

Softball is not my sport, but I did start hitting eventually.