My friend from the last post wondered tonight if I’d stopped blogging. “Do you need me to say something so you’ve got something to write about?” he asked.
“Sure, got anything good?”
“No. I don’t want to make fun of you anymore.”
Heh. So here I am, with next to nothing to say. The last two weeks have been consumed with the usual kind of things: my job, sleeping, cooking, the neighborhood association, bowling league, tutoring, a couple of freelance gigs, trying to fix the damage done to my credit report by some identity-thieving douchebag, playing Scrabble on Facebook, and dogsitting two big dogs, one of whom seems to have some sort of separation anxiety that causes her to eat things like coasters, gloves, shoe inserts, etc., and then to poop all over the house in the form of diarrhea, or however the hell you spell that word. The diarrhea part is awesome, and by “awesome” I mean “I can’t fucking wait until her owners come home.”
Bowling league is almost over, which is good, because I AM THE WORST BOWLER EVER. I know that I exaggerate A LOT, but I am not exaggerating this time. On good days, I bowl a 75, but normally I hover around the 40-50 range. I can’t even throw the damn ball in a straight line—it always curves to the right no matter what I do. It’s a low-key league and you get to drop your team’s two lowest scores, so it doesn’t matter that I am terrible, BUT STILL. I withstand a lot of comments like this one:
“Hey Laura, have you ever considered the fact that maybe your form isn’t working for you?”
Look people! I hate bowling. It’s totally dumb and it is SO NOT A SPORT. I have no desire to improve my form or spend any amount of time working on making myself a better bowler, so bite me. I am there only for the… beer? The socializing? Actually, I usually am so tired by the time bowling rolls around (rolls… heh, pun unintended) that I can barely muster up anything more than knitting in the corner while I wait for my turn to publicly humiliate myself. Next year, remind me how much I hate bowling before I agree to join the league again.
Anyway. I played ultimate on Sunday for the first time in almost a month and a half with little to no pain in the ankle, which is really the best news ever. Of course, now it hurts, but not badly so I think I’ll be OK.
So. Yeah. This is why I haven’t posted anything—I don’t really have much to say. Goodnight, it’s my turn in Scrabulous.
9 responses so far ↓
1 rubyblue123 // Dec 12, 2007 at 4:43 am
So if he makes fun of you for blogging about inane subjects does he then make fun of those who comment on your posts? It’s ok, I can take it.
My most hated part of bowling is that you know everyone sitting there watching you bowl is judging your ass. Best to wear flattering pants when bowling.
2 The Other Laura // Dec 12, 2007 at 4:59 am
Oh no, it’s MY turn in Scrabulous.
Perhaps you could claim an ankle injury to get out of bowling? Few people have the balls (heh, unintended) to say publicly that bowling is so not a sport. Perhaps you should run for office. You know, to be able to continue to make drastic, unimportant statements that somehow change my reality.
Good luck with the pups.
3 The Other Laura // Dec 12, 2007 at 6:30 am
Now it’s your turn in Scrabulous.
(though my move was a little lame… sometimes “you’ve got to do the best with what you’ve got,” to quote Victoria Beckham… not always a wise choice before 7am)
4 lizzy // Dec 12, 2007 at 11:48 am
Ew to Doggy Diarrhea. Just plain Ew. Although, if memory serves, you’ve found $20 bills in dog poop before, so you might want to keep an eye on the back end of this one.
5 Natalie B // Dec 12, 2007 at 10:00 pm
ahh… “bite me”… Man, I’d totally forgotten about that one. Such a good line. Not as cussy as “fuck you”, but carries a similar weight.
Like it. Hope you have a Happy Christmas!
6 michael5000 // Dec 12, 2007 at 10:16 pm
Bowling. Wow. You’re just full of surprises.
7 Phineas // Dec 12, 2007 at 10:24 pm
First - thanks for you comment on my new blog. It was the first comment I ever received. Muchas gracias, your explanation sure beat mine. And then I see it’s you. Too cool. That crowd on M5K is pretty slick and intersting to read.
Second - there’s no way you linked my blog. I’m honored. Also a first. Made my day - actually the comment made my day, the link made my night.
Third - most incredible bowling story ever. Hopefully. As a kid in Chicago, in my neighborhood anyway, you bowled. Saturday afternoons - 3 or 4 hours. Only now do I know it was an inexpensive way for parents to lose their surly pre-teenagers cheaply for an afternoon.
My Dad - big bowler - 200+ average. Me - learned the stupid game, got decent, grew up and realized that bowling is great if you’re a member in good standing in local 494, and that’s it.
Jump to 2005. I fly from Texas to Chi to celebrate my Dad’s 70th birthday. I am the one to suggest that the three brothers bowling with the old man would bring a tear to his eye. Off to Lisle Lanes.
It’s bowling for blood right off the bat. First game not bad, and get into a groove by the end. Second game. Strike, Strike, Strike. Owww. Oh my god. Something snapped in my arm. Arm goes limp, ball drops in a tremendous thud. Can’t move my arm from the elbow down.
At lighlting speed I recall prior orthopedic problems and correctly determine - I just tore my bicep off the bone in my forearm (if arm can’t move this way, what makes it move? Not too hard to figure). Shock sets it. Not figurately, literally. That and a couple quick beers and there’s little pain involved (that’s the cool thing about shock - it happend for a reason).
Based on years of (correctly) choosing not to bowl, I end up torquing my muscle in a way that I tore the tendon off my arm - BOWLING.
The only problem? I’m in a cast for 8 weeks, and have a huge scar on my arm, and for the rest of my life I have to admit that I had a serious injury….while BOWLING.
I hang my head in shame and return to my gin and tonic. Guess I should post this on my blog. Thank your for your rapt attention. And patience with a senselessly long comment.
8 TimsHead // Dec 13, 2007 at 4:39 am
I have hideous bowling form and the scores to match. I think if we ever bowled together, the lanes would have to be shut down (perhaps disinfected) for the cumulative aesthetic abominations.
On a similar note, I see ESPN’s promos for its pro bowlers tour and it looks exceptionally cheesy and stupid. Like professional wrestling, except with bowling balls or something.
So have I dropped out of your Scrabulous rounds? Really, the gap in the past game wouldn’t have been nearly as large if you didn’t have a knack for always putting down letters in the *exact place* I planned to play a word.
9 Truly // Dec 14, 2007 at 9:05 am
I loathe bowling. The shared shoes are nauseating enough, but here’s what really gives me the willies:
cramming my fingers into those dirty balls that have probably never been washed and are full of diseases bred from people rooting around in peanut bowls, popping nuts into their halitosis mouth, licking their fingers, going to the bathroom and not washing their hands and then putting those hands into a shared bowling ball. I have no interest in flesh eating bacteria.
I know this sounds crazy, but there you have it. I’m not this paranoid about germs elsewhere in the world. Just at bowling allys. Because I am convinced they are a portal to hell. Or purgatory, which I’ve always thought would be way worse.
I’ve only bowled a few times in my life. I hated it. I refuse to go most of the time. I don’t know what it is, but the whole scene nauseates me on some gut level. Maybe I died in a tragic bowling accident in a past life. A tragic flesh eating bacteria accident.