I feel like an old man when I move

These weeks of activity are taking their toll on my body. As I take stock of my parts, I realize that there are more that hurt than don’t. There’s the left ankle, which I believe may be sprained from bad cleats and twisting. I have remnants of a blood blister on a right toe. My big toenails are almost done growing back in after the skiing incident in November. The left shin is mostly healed, but still a little sensitive from an intersection with a softball. The backs of the knees hurt a lot when I move them after staying still for a while, and they really don’t like twisting. My hip joints don’t particularly like it after I run for a while. My elbows are scabbed from a collision in softball. I’ve got bruises on my hands and wrists from ultimate frisbee, and my left thumb just doesn’t feel normal after some pretty nasty catches of the softball.

Yes, I’m complaining, and I’m even considering seeking medical attention for the ankle and thumb. Last week I took it very easy with the sports in an attempt to recover, but I think it might take a while for some of these problems. Anyway, I’m still having fun doing all the things I do, so I’ll keep an eye on my anatomy and try not to do any permanent damage.

Double or nothing? Nah

I had another softball game today. If you haven’t read “I win beer” yet, go read that one first. Then continue on to the next paragraph.

After last week’s performance, as I step up to bat for the first time today I ask the coach if it’s a standing offer with a case of beer for every home run. Not wanting to sustain more losses, she refuses, but then says ‘double or nothing.’ A tempting idea indeed. If I hit another home run, I get two cases of beer. If I don’t hit a home run, I get nothing. I had intended to give the beer to the team anyway, so it wasn’t really a decision that was about me. Realizing the chances of getting a second consecutive home run were slim, I decided not to take the bet and stick with the single case.

I should have taken the bet. The pitcher was throwing all over the place, so it took a couple throws before I had one I liked. I swung, and it felt good. Straight over first base but closer than the right fielder. My favorite pocket of grass. I didn’t have to run as hard this time, and there wasn’t anybody trying to stop me at the home plate. It was a clean home run. Too bad there wasn’t anybody else on base for me to bring in, though. My home run was worth just one point.

It was a good game, and we emerged victorious in the end. Our first win. We have definitely been pulling together as a team. We had a couple double plays, some nice catches, good communication, great hits. The next time I was at bat I tried the same thing but ended up with a foul ball just outside of right field, so the outfield shifted to close up my hole. I had to change tactics, so I hit a line drive through the pitcher and got just a base run. They were on to me and my strategy, so I had to practice hitting to other areas of the field. I still get a little excited every time I look at where I want to hit the ball and then hit it exactly where I intend.

After the game we went out for celebratory drinks at the local bar. The rest of the season is going to be a lot of fun.

What an odd weekend

This weekend I went down to Corvallis. I intended to go to see my friend Rachel Becker, who was also visiting Corvallis at the time. I also wanted to see my Corvallis family. The driving itself was uneventful. I did the drive that I had done a thousand times before with as little fanfare as something so mundane deserves. As soon as I arrived in Corvallis, I went to the Honors College on the OSU campus, because I knew they would be closing soon on Friday afternoon. It was fairly slow, so I got to talk to my good friend and old coworker Rebekah. According to her, nothing has changed at the UHC. It was all exactly as it had been before my tenure and during apparently. The dean wasn’t there, so I didn’t get to say hi to him, but as I wandered around campus, I got the distinct impression that I hadn’t left much of an impression at all. Of course, I still ran into people I knew even two years after I graduated. But it seemed to me like it was a place where I was no longer welcome. I had tons of memories of my time there, and I realized I don’t want to be done with the university scene. There are too many things I enjoy about it, and I don’t want to lose them. It was a strange feeling; a disjoint in me that at once felt like I wish I had done more yet also knew that I had done so much more than most people. I don’t know that I could have been more involved than I was, and yet, I wanted more still.

I went to my Grandpa’s house and found him mowing the lawn. I checked my work email to make sure there were no fires to tend while he finished, then we went out to dinner. Shortly after, I met Rachel at the Darkside Cinema, a relatively new independent theater in Corvallis (why didn’t they have it when I was there?). We saw a documentary on Bettie Page that turned out to be fairly interesting. Afterwards, we found a park and talked until 2 a.m.

The next day was all about eating. After I got up, Grandpa made pancakes and bacon. Shortly after that I met Rachel for lunch at a Thai place next to the campus. I wandered around the campus some more, but only got more of the weird and very uncomfortable feeling, so I left, heading to Aunt Diana and Uncle Les’s just in time for dinner. After dinner I stayed and chatted for a while, then headed back to Grandpa’s to give up and call it a night. Sunday morning I didn’t even get breakfast. I felt so out of place in Corvallis, so steeped in past emotions and memories and people, that I needed to escape.

I’m not sure what to think about this weekend. I’m glad that I have my Corvallis family. They’re a good bunch. I’m glad I got to see Rachel. She’s good, too. But I have very strange feelings about the university now, and in talking to some people, that’s common. There are some people and some relationships that could have happened very differently.

I Win Beer

It was almost perfectly scripted. We’re playing softball, and it’s our last turn at bat. We’re down a bit, and there is almost no way of catching up, but we are still in good spirits. The team captain had promised a case of beer to someone if he had hit a home run, so I ask her for the same deal as I prepare to go up to bat. She agrees, and as I walk out to the plate I verify. The first pitch is long and inside, but the second suits me well. I swing a little late, but it ends up for the better; it slices right between the first baseman and the foul line, low and fast. By the time I round first, nobody’s there yet, so I head for second. I usually have no problems making it to second, so this wasn’t unusual for me. But as I make it to the base, I hear yelling, and it’s not the “stay there” kind. I pick up speed and head for third. By the time I hit third I’m thinking about my beer more than whether I can make it home safely, so I don’t even look at where the ball is. I think I hear people saying go home, which only supports my resolution. As I make the final feet I see the ball coming in to home, and a small Asian lady crouched and poised on the plate to catch it. In my final steps I manage to tag the base, but instead of plowing into her I opt to instead roll over her in a move that leaves me very dirty and scratched up, but leaves her in great shape. I stand up, begin to dust myself off, point to the captain, and with a big smile say “You owe me beer!”

I Beat The System… Maybe

There are some days when I accomplish more than I thought I could in a week. There are other days that drag on but lead nowhere. And there are the occasional days when despite my best efforts nothing works and I make negative progress. The trick is to recognize the good days and the bad days early enough. If it’s a good day, I prepare to spend a lot of time taking advantage of it. If it’s a bad day, you are better off going back to bed than ending up further behind than when you started.

Today was one of the bad days. It seems that usually my mood is independent of the type of day I’m having. Today, for example, I was not in a bad mood at all. I slept in and didn’t get breakfast or time to prepare a lunch, but it didn’t bother me. Lunch plans fell through, but I remained unfazed. My projects stubbornly refused to yield themselves to my will and steadfastly retained their bugs. By noon, I had accomplished very little, I was hungry, and I was not about to get shut out.

I decided to call it a day. A quick email to the boss and I was out of there. Flex time is convenient, but sometimes I think it’s better for the company than it is for me. After all, if I leave on the bad days and stay for the good days, they end up better than average.

Of course, the moment I arrive at home I get emails saying someone is going to visit me, and another saying I should go see someone else. Figures. For the next five hours I accomplish absolutely nothing. I watch the Simpsons, I sleep, I snack, and I don’t even try to accomplish anything, knowing full well that today is a day where any work you attempt sets you further back.

I did bike to racquetball, where I lost all four games, but I didn’t get angry or start on my spiral of suck. I was a little surprised that I was even capable of playing four straight games of singles. Apparently I have more stamina than I thought.

So now I am at home, wondering what to do until bedtime, anxious to work on my many projects, but wary of the wrath that touching them today could incur. Today has been a wash, but that’s better than a bad day, and I’m optimistic about tomorrow.

On the Dichotomy of Hands

I’ve been thinking lately about hands, and specifically how many contradictory things they are capable of doing. They are at once smooth and rough, capable of gripping slippery objects, yet soft enough to brush lightly. They hold blood in, but will absorb other fluids. In an instant they can be strong enough to break a man’s face and in the next soft enough to caress a woman. Dextrous enough to make the most minute manipulations, and yet then pick up boulders. They can tell someone to come closer, or to go away. We use them daily, yet they are so fragile.

I like my hands. They suit me well. They do what I ask and hardly complain. Sometimes I’m rough on them, but I take care of them afterwards.

That’s all, I guess.

An amazing birthday

Friday night was amazing, and a true testament to the awesomeness of having friends. It took weeks of planning, but it all came together in a few hours to become a truly cool birthday party.

Shortly after 6pm, we started a scavenger hunt. There were two teams of 5. Each team had one hour to get as many items on the list as possible. Items had varying point values based on difficulty. We were to take photographs of the items or the event and return back for scoring. My team stayed together while the other team split up into two to divide and conquer. We started off strong, scoring a lot of points by peeing on the fire hydrant just outside the house. We moved on to purchasing a flavored condom at a porn store. After that we headed to Target to do a handstand, buy a rubber ducky, find the word Fist in a spanish dictionary, and get pushed 20 yards in a shopping cart. Then we moved on to the mall, where we got our sleep number, put on an apron from Starbucks, put one foot in the bathroom of the opposite sex, drink a shot of Tequila, get someone’s phone number, and find a license plate with the letters N and C. Then it was off to a gas station to find twinkies and a house listing with a value over $200,000. We headed back to the house, taking a picture of KFC on the way, finishing off with a mooning, stuffing 3 twinkies in my mouth, and getting a picture of someone in a bathtub. We did very well in just an hour and had a lot of fun. Unfortunately, we lost by just a few points. Somehow, though the other team split up and was able to do more, we still almost tied. The winners got movie tickets and we got two-dollar bills. The pictures are hilarious, and it was a lot of fun.

Then we went out to dinner at a tiny place. The 16 of us took over 2/3 of the restaurant. The food was good, though. And I got some great presents, like a game cube with some controllers and Double Dash! I hooked it up to my projector at home. It’s amazing. We also got cupcakes, which had decorations on top that looked like snowmen fashioned out of marshmallow, pretzels, and swedish fish.

Nick and Carolyn put a lot of effort into the party, and of all my birthdays ever, this is one of the top two. I can’t say it’s better or worse than my 21st birthday, but it was awesome.

The spirit of the game

I went to my first ultimate frisbee tournament this weekend. Left on Saturday morning to go up to Wenatchee for The Hot Apple Tournament (THAT). Our first game was in the rain, but we were all good-natured. We lost, but the game and the other team were just so much fun that it didn’t matter. That’s the thing that’s so cool about ultimate; ‘the spirit of the game’ is a strong part of the sport, so everything is really relaxed and friendly. There are no umpires and disputes are mediated in a friendly manner. You can introduce yourself to your defender and strike up conversations on the sideline. Of course it’s competitive and we want to win, but it’s all about having a good time, too. After each game both teams give the other team a cheer, which can be a poem or song whose lyrics have been changed, or a miniature friendly game like tag or dodge disc (dodgeball with big foam discs).

Our second game was a horrible defeat, made worse by the opponent’s seeming lack of effort. The third game we barely won, but they were a fun group to play. Our fourth game was a challenge, and it wasn’t until halftime that we discovered a strategy that successfully defended their deep throws. Unfortunately, we discovered it too late. We went out to dinner afterwards, and then to the camp site. After getting appropriately buzzed, we headed over to the lodge for the main festivities. I stayed late dancing, even after the rest of my team had left. At bars I feel very uncomfortable being alone on a dance floor. Here everyone was so friendly and inclusive that I had no problems making friends and dancing with everyone else.

Sunday we were all sore. To make matters worse, we were stuck on a small field with poor drainage. Massive bogs occupied significant chunks of the field, and the smell indicated that it probably wasn’t just water from the sprinklers. We barely lost the game, but had a good time anyway. We should have had a bye, but the other team we were to play wanted to leave early, too, so we found a nearby field and played a short game. Oddly, it was the best field we’d played on at the tournament. It was a good friendly game, and the weather, though drizzly, was not unpleasant. It, too, was close, but fun. Afterwards we went to Rusty Burger (an unknown but extremely popular local burger joint), then drove home.

I had a great time. Everyone was friendly, most people were my age and chill, I got to score a few times and play as much as I wanted, and I learned a lot about ultimate frisbee strategy. I’ll be a while in recovery, but it was worth it.

This isn’t the place for me

I often have moments where I know with certainty that Richland is not the place for me. One such occurrence happened this Friday evening. The advertisement said it was a swing dance for all ages, with the proceeds going to the middle and high school jazz bands that were playing. I got my dance shoes, my $5, and headed over to the Knights of Columbus hall, expecting to find some people to dance with and maybe have some fun.

The reality was very different, but one that I should have been anticipating instead. “All ages” really meant middle school and high school kids and their parents. And “swing dance” meant they moved two tables out of the way so that awkward men and their wives could dodge pairs of middle school girls hopping and flailing. “Desserts” were the tables of homemade and thinly veiled store-bought confections guarded closely from the other side of the table by vigilant mothers.

I guess although the words in English were technically correct, the interpretation was vastly different, and I found myself in a particularly awkward situation. I did manage to steal one of the better moms away for a quick swing and a hopeless attempt at a nightclub two-step, it was interesting to hear the jazz bands having been in one for a number of years in high school, and I saw a couple coworkers who had come to support their children.

Overall, I’d consider the night to be the equivalent of diving into a swimming pool covered by a thin sheet of ice; you know that by the definition of a swimming pool there should be the possibility of swimming, and when you dive you are stricken with gut-wrenching shock. You try to make the best of the situation and do a lap, but it’s hopeless and you end up kicking yourself for thinking that in the middle of winter the pool would be anything but frigid and lightly frozen.

Perhaps my luck will change and I’ll find the pocket of single people my age in Richland. If they exist, though, they’re good at hiding.

It’s unrelenting

Friday evening I went to a PNNL party called Mayfest. It was a lot of fun and I met some new people and got to dance. After that I went to Tagaris winery to meet some friends and have a glass of wine and listen to my coworker Doug play his guitar. Then I went home to bake some cornbread and brownies. The next morning I got up early so we could drive for 4 hours to go rafting down the Skykomish, which was a lot of fun. Afterwards we went to our campsite and stayed the night. The next morning we went hiking at Wallace Falls, then drove home, stopping along the way at a diner for lunch, making it back just in time for me to get to softball practice and call my grandma on mother’s day.

Monday I played disc golf and had a great game, almost getting a hole in one, getting 2 birdies, and ending at only +4 after 14 holes. I headed over to ultimate frisbee for a couple hours. Tuesday I played racquetball for an hour, leaving early so that I could get to softball practice, where we practiced for a couple hours. Wednesday (today), I went to ultimate, then went back to work for a couple hours to catch up on some things that I have due at work tomorrow. Tomorrow is racquetball, followed by a showing of a movie at my place (A History of Violence). Friday I’m going to a swing dance. Saturday and Sunday I’ll be in Wenatchee for an ultimate frisbee tournament, and probably won’t make it back in time for softball practice, but may be able to show another movie at my place (Chicago). Every weekday and every weekend is accounted for.

In between all of this I have a few projects I’m working on, I’m still keeping up with netflix, I’ve actually been averaging more than 8 hours of work a day, and I’m preparing all my own meals.

All the things that I’m doing are fun. I enjoy it all. But I’m definitely stretched too thin. I’m so tired, and I don’t seem to be recovering from anything. I’m getting tan, I’ve got bruises all over, and soreness that won’t go away. This can’t last, but I don’t see an end. I don’t know what to do.