It was my turn to host the monthly Bunko party last night. It was May 4th, and had I been clever enough, I would have done a Star Wars theme. But I flaked and took the easy way out and celebrated the Mexican St. Patrick's Day of Cinco de Mayo.
Really, the only difference between the two is that we drink margaritas and eat tacos rather than drink green beer and corned beef and hash.
I worked from home that day so I could scrub my toilet, whisk up the dog hair all over my couch, do some grocery shopping, cooking and baking of my newly invented dessert, my pina colada cake.
I'm sure I really didn't invent this. It was just coconut cake mix with vanilla icing. Coconut shreds were sprinkled on top and topped with pineapple slices and cherries. But it was so damn good that I was worried that it might not make it to the party without an obvious chunk of it missing.
I signed up to play softball for my town recreational league. We had practice for a few weeks and our second game last night.
I lovingly call ourselves the Bad News Bears. Many of the players on the team haven't really played before. Some, like me, haven't played competitively in years. But we all knew going into this that we were playing for fun and if we happened to win some games, then that was a bonus.
So far we've lost both our games. By at least 10 runs. Sigh.
The problem isn't that we're all awful. There are some good players on the team. One of the problems is that it takes some time for our hitting to come alive. Some of our errors in the field make me want to cringe. But the biggest problem of all is that we don't have a consistent pitcher.
Our league is slow pitch, which means the arc of the ball has to be between 6 and 12 feet off the ground. As opposed to fast pitch, the intent isn't to strike the batter out, but to get her to hit the ball somewhere that she doesn't want to.
Our pitchers have trouble reaching the plate or just can't make it hittable. And that walks in a lot of runs.
But what sucked the most about yesterday was that I pulled my lift quadricep on the first play of the game. I sprinted to get a foul ball from left field and I felt the pop. I finished the inning pounding my leg and trying to walk, but it was useless. Thankfully, nothing was hit to me the rest of the inning because I was done.
There was a sharp pain at the top of my thigh, right where it connects to my hip. I could walk with a limp, but the slightest movement could give me such a jolt that I had to fight crying out in pain. I sat the rest of the game on the bench with an ice pack on my leg, slowly leaking and drenching my pants that eventually froze me out on a chilly evening. I didn't leave right away because I wanted to be a good and supportive team player. I also wanted to make sure that I'd be able to drive home. My car is stick and I needed my left leg to push in the clutch.
When I finally got home that night, I finally had to be a baby and cry out in pain when it hurt. Barry came over to kiss my face each time, confused as to what was wrong with me. I puttered around slowly and put a Tiger Balm patch on my leg for some much needed relief.
Laying in bed with an ice pack on my raised leg, I felt old and helpless. And I felt really far away from home.
I just signed up for a recreational softball league and I am so excited. I haven't played in years. Damn, it's been almost ten years.
I miss the smell of the grass and taste of grit in my mouth after I slid into third base. I miss the sweat and the grass stain on my pants and the ice cream (in high school) or the beers (at work) the team would get after a game.
I miss the feeling of being part of a team. Cheering for someone up at bat or trying to psyche out the pitcher. Of the inside-out rally caps or the silly superstitions we had to follow in order to win a game.
I miss the singing on the bus on the way to games and dumping the water cooler over our coach when we won.
I miss how my thighs used to look when I was 17 years old. Crap.
I don't think its wrong to say that I've become obsessed. I have that type of personality.
It all started when I found The Guild web episodes. They were cute and funny, but it wasn't' enough for me ti find them entertaining. I had to understand everything that they were talking about. The game World of Warcraft wasn't mentioned specifically, but you knew what they meant.
WoW has a 10 day free trial of the game.
I didn't think I'd get hooked.
I'm now on day 8 of my 10 day trial and I am currently a Level 11 Human Warrior, leatherworking apprentice. My fingers are sore from all the keyboard crunching. I've stayed awake for hours trying to complete quests. I don't know if I'll be able to stop when my free trial is up.
Friday turned into Fun-day as everyone in the office played hookey for an afternoon of mini-golf.
We left the office at noon for lunch at a local rib joint. Then we were off to the mini-golf place for some silliness. It was extremely hot out, about 95° and even though we were carting around plenty of beers with us, it was almost too hot to drink them... almost.
I was pulling some amazing shots out of my ass. Birdie, par. Across the course the other teams would hear "Claudine got 2!" and they would tremble in fear. Was I the next Tiger Woods?
Alas, they were not getting the full story. Among my super shots were also some 7, 8 and 9 stroke holes. Tiger can rest easy.
My overall score was somewhere in the 80's. But in the end, I was a winner. Winner of the highest score. If I'm going lose, then I'll lose the best!
At work, we normally play games during lunchtime. For a while we had played Chicken Foot, a variation on dominoes. But the new game we play now is Quirkle. It's a fun and addictive game where you have to match up color and/or shape tiles. It's like Scrabble and dominoes mashed together. Its fun for all ages.
What's frustrating is that Mike always wins. Who knew that he was actually smart. He hides it very well.
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