Priority Use

I'm one of those people who mostly just likes things that I'm good at. Not surprisingly, this poses many a problem. If only I'd managed to tolerate stinking at "insert activity here," I'd be an expert "insert personal form of activity here."

Examples:

Piano
T-Ball
Track
Flute
Ballet
Hip Hop
Softball
Basketball
Volleyball
Sewing
Cooking
Painting

I've been missing softball lately. I've been having urges to play. But, given that I hadn't so much as picked up a softball in a couple of years, I was nervous. It's such a psychological game, really. I don't pick up a softball, therefore I don't practice. Therefore, I'm worried I'm no good. Therefore, I don't pick up a softball. And the cycle continues.

Anyway, I suggested that we go to the batting cages while I was home a while back. Sort of one of those future, non-committal, "oh-that-would-be-nice" sort of suggestions. My dad and I used to practically keep those batting cages open when I was in high school. They should have just given him a free pass given how much money we (he) spent. He'd been suggesting it all week and I--out of nervousness of sucking--was doing a good job at changing the subject mid-sentence.

Yesterday, we had about 20 minutes to kill. I suggested we play catch. I forgot how much I loved it. We only threw for a little bit, but it felt so good. And, I was actually pretty good, still. Some reincarnation of beginner's luck, I guess. Inspired by that, we headed to the cages this afternoon.

At these particular cages, it's quite obvious when the ball whizzes by unmet by the strength of an aluminum bat. The fast pitch softball is all the way at the end--sort of like a corner office, I guess. So, everyone (everyone) hears the thump of the ball as it hits the carpet at the back of the fence. Unsurprisingly, I was having second thoughts. The sky looked like rain, and I was crossing my fingers it would come before we arrived.

Alas.

We got in the cages. 3 tokens each, just to warm up. I figured I'd just bunt the first few just to get the hang of it. Oddly enough, I didn't need to. I was actually pretty darn good. I hit almost everything and half of the shots would have surely been base hits with a bit of strength in my run. Building off of that confidence, I headed to the fast pitch baseball. Amazingly, I was damn good there, too. I hit nearly all of them as well.

The high.

God (etc) must have taken note of my previous poor-attitude, however. Mid-way through the baseball, the guy came out and told us that there was lightning and we had to leave. Damn. And, I was just getting good.

Point being, if I would just getting over being bad at things, I think I could actually be pretty good. Sigh.

It's funny to me how sensitive people are about money. I guess, to a certain extent, I am too. I guess I don't really mean sensitive, in the sense of it being a touchy issue--though it certainly is for many. Rather, I mean sensitive, in that no one wants anyone else to know exactly how much they earn. Even though, often, that's all pretty obvious based on (often) unavoidable observables: the car that one drives, or the meals that one eats.

I'm dying to ask how much people are earning. And, why wouldn't I? Especially right out of college. Of course I want to sense what I'm worth--can I compare myself to those around me with similar credentials, skills, goals and (potential) jobs? How can I really know how much I am worth unless I know how much those are worth around me?

People always seem to be trying to make it known that "they're okay." That they don't need anyone else's help. I think that's silly. Take the help you need. Give a little later--when it all comes back full circle. Point being, people get so stressed out about things like paying for dinner or accepting gifts. I don't get it. I guess my philosophy is you pay if you want. And, if I want, I'll pay instead. It shouldn't really be that big of a deal.

Wow, I'm really out of blogging-shape.

I seem to have this habit of falling for my friends. Or becoming friends with those I've fallen for, whatever the case may be. Someone said it's because I'm too friendly, I don't know. That I'm not good at flirting, just at being a friend. I had another of those conversations where I help a friend--or not really help, but listen and support a friend--through opposite sex sagas. Only it wasn't a friend. I mean it didn't feel like a friend. Oh well. I guess it is better to have friends.

On a slightly more important note, I have been using Listerine for the past week and that stuff is wicked (I like that word) strong. I have worked myself up to 30 seconds. But, let me tell you, it sure wasn't easy. My mouth burns for about the first 15 seconds, with a crescendo around second 16. After that, though, the power wears off. That's not to say that I'm not extremely happy when the second hand rolls around to half past. It does make my mouth feel extremely fresh. If it wasn't for CR, I'd be hooked.