The Kickball Diaries, volume 2.

Week 2. Kitshickers vs The Hustlerz.
Game time: 4/24/2008, 6:30pm
Game Conditions: sunny, warm, windy.
Result: W 10-0
Record: 1-1

I told you I could smell a win. Ok, I wrote that last one already knowing the outcome. We were totally awesome - if the score doesn't suggest as much. I had some choice plays, as per usual. Here's the favorite. I made it to first, in fact the way I made it to first on this play escapes me, since I made it to first on two occasions. Perhaps this was when I walked? Oh yes, that was it. I struck out the first time, and this second time I was up I asked the ref to draw the "batters box" on the ground so I knew where it was. Which helped, as I then walked! The guy behind me, BMc, kicked it real far, and I was off. Rounded second, and third. A quick look back told me I could probably make it to home. RO'D was the first base coach, and he was telling me to run. Our "manager" was the third base coach, he was even telling me to run. CH, another fellow bostonian and die-hard was closer to home, also telling me to go. I glanced back again as I was running, knowing full well I could make it, but depending on how hard they threw it, there may be a play. I was ready. Now, I will blame something on the ground. But on one step half way between 3rd and home my foot went in a direction I was not expecting. Perhaps a little further down, or slightly inclined in a ditch, it's hard to say. But, it didn't do what I thought, and my entire right leg wobbled. But - I was running at lightning speed, it was tough to recover. There was some stumbling, and a whole lot of arm waving, windmill style, trying to keep myself upright. At this point all I'm thinking is, 'they'll never believe there was something on the ground'. To my right, our "manager" has visibly given up on me. To my far left RO'D may be unable to breath through fits of laughter. Between him and CH I see the team, in hysterics. And I hear CH's booming voice "STAY UP UNTIL YOU CROSS THE PLATE!" I run hard, arms flailing, and I cross the plate - never once falling over. I stopped and turned, to witness BMc doing the same exact thing I just did. It was something on the ground, and about 5 steps behind me he also was flailing and windmilling trying to stay up. Hysterics warranted.

On a second choice play, I decided to kick the ball (although I think it would have been a ball had I left it alone), it was outside to the left of the box. Now, what I decided t do with this pitch was to run a few steps up and kick it with my left foot (I'm a righty). This shocked me as it happened, and the fact the the ball sailed over towards third shocked me even more. Now, what confused me was that I had the weight on the wrong foot and was a little stuck trying to run out of the box. I made it to first seconds too late, and CH - the first base coach now - said to me "Hey, Jenni, next time just don't stop when you kick it". Thanks coach, I'll work on that!

Also, a highlight of the day was the birthday celebration for RO'D himself. Happy Birthday little buddy. I take credit for the win, it was definitely the birthday cupcakes that I brought! For sure!

The Kickball Diaries, volume 1.

Week 1. Kitshickers vs 99 Problems but a Pitch ain't one.
Game time: 4/17/2008, 7:20pm
Game Conditions: It's hard to remember, but I'm sure it was hot, and dusk.
Result: L 4-1
Record: 0-1

Our league is a coed league, and there are inevitably rules about how many girls must play, a separate bunt line for the girls, and just a general feeling of how we can "even things" out to make up for the girls being crap players. It's a mindset that I hate. It implies that merely because I am a girl I will be one of the worst players, or worse that merely because someone else is a guy he will be a force. Just, untrue. Maybe. We began going over the rules, and our "manager" was explaining some things, pointing out the bunt line for the girls, telling me that as the center fielder I should come in when a girl was kicking, and informing me that my only strategy when at bat was to just try and kick it on the ground towards 3rd so I'd have a shot at getting on base. Well, I launched in to a diatribe about how girls can be good players too - how these rules were crap, how I could try and aim to kick a gosh-darn homerun if I felt compelled. He shrugged me off, and I took the field. RO'D was sitting out first, and watched the following transpire from the sidelines.

It was the first play I was going to make as a kickball-er, and let me just preface with...that ball is HUGE. It's about 3 times bigger than you are picturing in your head right now. It is red, similar to the one you probably used in elementary school - but bigger. Some guy kicks the ball to the outfield, it's totally mine, I'm all over it. And then....then this happened. I looked up, and this enormous ball was falling towards my face and I quickly realized I had NO IDEA what to do about it, not a clue. So, I closed my eyes, screamed a bit, and swatted erratically at the air. I shouldn't have to add (but I will) that I didn't even touch the ball at all, it went behind me. I turned and ran to it, picked it up, and half rolled, half overhanded it somewhere towards the in-field. Not nearly close enough to do anything reasonable. I think that guy was standing on third picking his nose by the time I finished with the ball. After that I brushed my shoulder off, and patted myself on the back for single-handedly undermining the integrity of female kickball-ers everywhere. When the inning was over RO'D slyly said to me, "Um, did you close your eyes?!" By the end of the game I was feeling it a little better - I knocked a few down, held some people from scoring, although I never once made a catch.

Behind the plate, the entire team was dead. It was my first at bat, and I walked over to home plate - instantly scared crapless - what would happen here, any one's guess. There was a radio nearby blastin' out some tunes, and while it was not my original theme song the new Madonna song, 4 minutes, came on. (Quick interruption - I've been obsessed with this song lately, listening to it maybe 6 times a day while dancing in my office) So as soon as I heard this I screamed over to RO'D - "This is the song I've been dancing to in my office all week", forgetting that I work in the same building as everyone else on the team. They all begin to laugh at me, as I danced my way into my first out. I finished the day 0 for 2 behind the plate.

But damn it all if I didn't have a ton of fun while doing it! Go Kitshickers, I smell a win soon....

apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur

Let me take you back a bit, to a simpler time, about 4 weeks ago. This is when I joined a kickball team. It's a team that has played together before - with some new additions this time around, namely me and RO'D. We call ourselves The Kitshickers, and we wear navy blue shirts, and drink beers as we run the bases and cause general mayhem. As per usual, I don't get out of this experience without doing something completely absurd, so I've decided to institute a weekly series, an account of sorts, of exactly what embarrassing thing I've done to keep my entire team laughing at me for another week!

Introducing...The Kickball Diaries. The first order of business was to select an "at bat" song, which questionably worked out for me.

A healthy dose of crazy!

If you've been keeping up with my life as of late (unblogged, of course) you know there has been an unhealthy dose of crazy infiltrating the scene. But, Monday - we had the healthy kind, and it was refreshing, albeit endangering at some points. I left my office and headed to my car, on my way the phone rang. It was LR, and she was at Spiderhouse. Since my car was parked right by there, I stopped by to hang for a bit. We were seated in this back area, that's up on a little stage, and under a roof. The roof is actually sheets of metal siding, or something like that. We were talking and I kept being distracted by this guy who was tugging and hanging on the structure holding up the roof. It was very shaky - I thought maybe he was inspecting it. Then, he climbed on this rusty table and I gasped. (SIDE NOTE: It's the mismatchy, rusted, outdoor furniture that gives spiderhouse it's charm) He assured me he was ok, and I warned him that the table was rotting out from under his feet.

So, he climbed down and went away. Story over. Or, not quite.

This back stage area is, well, at the back of Spiderhouse's outdoor area, and behind it there is a house (maybe its a business in a house, I don't actually know) with a 2nd story deck. This guy is now scaling the deck, and hoisting himself up onto the railing. LR and I are staring, as are the two girls at the one other table under the roof. He stood around for a bit, and so we carried on our conversation. Until.

The whole structure we were sitting under began shaking, VIOLENTLY. And then you just heard a bunch of cracking and metal flexing. As I glanced up, I could see the roof bending under the guy who was now crawling over it. I began to laugh, and the two girls at the other table quickly fled the scene. He crawled across the whole roof, leaving full-grown-man-sized dents on his way. He stopped when he was directly above my head. At this point everyone in the patio is staring at him, and us. He peeks down from above and smiles and says "Don't worry, I'll be ok!" I refrained from telling him I was actually worried about myself.

There was another round of shaking and crunching, and I can only imagine that this is when he decided to stand up. Next thing you know, he is in the palm tree that is adjacent to the roof. He spends some time shaking the tree a bit, and climbs back to the roof. Again peeking down at me, "Don't worry I won't fall". He laid down on the roof, bending it worse, and put his arms into the tree. This complicated little dance went on for what seemed like an eternity - mostly because no one was able to do anything but stare in disbelief. It was probably something like 8 minutes.

When he was done, he crawled back across the roof, more dents, and dismounted onto the railing of the porch. In his hand, a foot and a half piece of palm frond, his hard-earned treasure. He held it proudly, showed it to us, and grinned. So much work, for what?! A palm frond, not even a full one. A piece of a tree, which he also could have ripped off the lower portions of the tree from the ground, in fact I could have ripped off a matching piece without even moving from my chair.

He walked over to an empty table, prize in hand, smiling to everyone. He sat down, still clutching the leaf, for a while. Then, he placed it on the table and walked away. I'll never understand what happened, and I will forever notice the dents in the roof at Spiderhouse. But, somehow, in light of everything else - this man's crazy, was something I could totally get on board with. Palm fronds for everyone!

my allegiance

Some people were curious to know how I was feeling going into tonight's big game, perhaps rightly so. Let me start with, living down here, my allegiance has quickly grown to be almost solely to two things, the Red Sox (ALWAYS) and Bevo. So, needless to say, I'm still sad that UT couldn't cut it. But, I was happy to see our Big 12 companions KU doing so great. And, I will always be a fan of great games. The Jayhawks had some of the best games this whole madness, tonight certainly tops them all. Rockchalk Jayhawks everywhere. But watch out - football's around the corner, Punks!

(...it's no Eyes of Texas!)

cry for help

Mia hit rock bottom one night last week. I mean, she had literally been crying for help for a few days, "mmmrrrrrewwww. mmmmmmrrrrrreeeeewwwww! mmmew mmmew mmmmmreeeeewww!" And I do what I can to entertain her, but sweetie - mama's busy. I know you feel ignored, I know you're lonely, but...

That night, I didn't have the heart to stop her, I just let her throw her kitty tantrum. She climbed up on a bookshelf in my room and pushed all the books off. She climbed on to the shelf above, and pushed the random piles of stuff off (Dallas DVDs, notecards, piles of receipts, the like...). It woke me up, of course. I wished she wasn't doing it. But...I didn't stop her. I let her freak out. When she was done, I got up and dragged her onto my bed. I tried to stay awake to pet her, I did. But it was 4am, and I was sleepy. So the petting faded quickly, and she became more angry.

Up on top of my dresser, and down go my glasses, some candles, my cell phone. So again, I pulled her on to the bed. This time, everything fell asleep except for my hand, which made a perpetual petting motion - and seemed to help.

She's been ok since. Although, she's scratching the hell out of my couch. I mean, there are holes in it now. So, that's great. I tried cutting her nails, and she punctured my thigh with a back claw. Tonight I'll try and pull out some old toys that have been in hiding and see if this helps. But really, it's been a battle - and I'm losing.

Gabriel blew his horn

A disappointing afternoon, wasted watching UT lose to Memphis. I really thought they could pull it out - but Memphis ran away with it from the beginning pretty much. It's a sad day in longhorn country. However, now that a KU-UT championship is out of the picture, I think I'll be rooting for Davidson this evening, shhh - don't tell! - Stephen Curry is on fire, and what a great story that would be! This is why I love the madness, anything is possible.

UPDATE: With a minute fifteen left on the clock and KU making their two free throws I felt I should take the opportunity to admit I've been a fair-weather fan for both teams equally during this game. I've cheered constantly for the leader, WHEE, Underdog! WHEE, Number One Seed! It's a good game, for all involved!

one hundred and sixty-one to go

It had to be done!

i am. at peace.

I started this entry a long time ago, in February 2007, and I don't think it's a coincidence that it was put on hold, worked on, put on hold, etc, a few times over - as over the past year I've felt many various shades of "at peace" (or not). I finally felt able to finish this during the holidays. Then I nearly wanted to burn it. And, now I feel ready to post it - I guess that's a tiny hint into my psyche, all in itself.

I'm convinced that drowning has to be one of the worst things that can happen - when you can't breath and you want to. Maybe suffocating is the same, but somehow the thought of gasping for a deep breath and turning up with a mouth (and nose) full of water instead has got to be the worst. Almost like that time when I was 5 and I had been so sneaky as to grab a huge gulp from the glass of soda that my mom had put in the fridge. It wasn't until my mouth was over-full with delicious soda that I realized it was not soda, but coffee she'd put in there to make iced coffee. And there was nothing I could do with it - but swallow. Drowning must be like that. Times a thousand.

There was a time when I used to feel like I was drowning all the time. When I was over come with anxiety about this or that. When being alone, and in silence, was perhaps the worst thing that could happen. When I couldn't dream of falling asleep without the TV to stop the panic that seemed to always be just below the surface ready to bubble over at any moment. Sometimes it was justified, or maybe explainable, panic. Sometimes it was more vague. I guess worry has always been a character trait of mine. It's always been there, but I learned to deal.

I've noticed a change in this past year [2006]. I can sleep without the TV. I can be alone, and silent. I can be inside my head without feeling like I am missing something. I can do what I want, when I want, without feeling lost or unjustified. I'll blame some of this growth on traveling by myself. When it started, it was terrifying. But there was a certain freedom and peace that comes from being completely on your own somewhere that no one knows you. Particularly if it's a place where you also don't speak the language. I can remember my flight home from Singapore - and while I had grown "home-sick" by the end of that three-and-a-half week trek around the world, I was also sad to come back. To rejoin the day-in-day-out, the social norms, the societal expectations.

And while I have a strong "home-body" tendency, those trips really forced me to embrace myself and what I was about. Making the decision to move to Texas for grad school - a player that popped up very late in the game - over staying in Boston was terrifying. It was compounded by the fact that it was something, deep-down, I felt I needed to do. It was precisely opposite to the choice I would have thought I would have made. It was exactly the opposite of how I would have thought I would feel. It was that opposition that was horrific. But I knew, perhaps from the first time it was mentioned, that this was the choice I needed to make. I felt I was finally ready.

What followed that decision was anything but peace. There was no relief, there was no acceptance, there was complete and total fear, denial, sadness, terror, depression. No where in there though, was there ever regret.

It's funny how some things that happened a long time ago seem so clear - and others that happened just yesterday are fuzzy. I was going through a drawer of papers, papers that were among the first to be unpacked, and the first to be forgotten about. It included a set of fortunes from some fortune cookies.

Right before I left Boston, my last night with AY. We shared chinese food takeout and some wine on the empty floor of my living room. I remember I didn't eat much. I remember I talked a lot. I remember it was some of the best girl talk we'd ever had, maybe because it was the last for a while. Things have a way of being better than ever when you know they are coming to an end. We each got two fortune cookies. One of mine made me laugh a bit

If your cookie is in two pieces, the answer is yes

I remember the conversation that followed. I feigned confusion, saying "I don't know what the question was" and AY, as usual, did not let me get away with it, "Yes, you do". Well, she was right. I did know the question, although it might not have been exactly what she was thinking, I'm sure at it's very core it was similar.

And, many months later, the answer is yes.

note to self

I tried. I tried to be prepared for this. I charged the camera battery and I brought the memory card. And - there were just no pictures to be had. That's not entirely true, but there are no pictures to be shared.

I tried to be aware of the bands I was seeing that I liked, I kept a list. It goes something like:

spazmatics
ben burgess
the stills

It ends there. Not because I only saw three bands - but because after three I forgot I was keeping a list.

I tried to finish all of my work before it started, so that I could be ready for school on Monday. Instead, tonight at 10:37pm, I'm reapproaching my disastrous paper and beginning a power point presentation on it. Both are due tomorrow - and I've found out I'm presenting second.

yay for spring break, I think!

sxsw day 1

it's like disney world for music freaks! There were bands, there was BBQ, I know there was beer, I think there was fooseball, and I hear there were Indian girls.

and thats all I can say about that, my mom reads this afterall!

sxsw day 0.5

all i can say - two new friends stolen (damn, I'm good at that) and a resident 80s cover band found. Next wednesday, Cedar St. for sure - and I will talk to Geoffrey this time!!

Tomorrow - The onion party at Emo's. I can't sleep fast enough for this....

new plan...

...stay up all night to finish fMRI proposal that is due after spring break, so that tomorrow I can kick off SxSW festivities right!

I've got a steady supply of Diet Coke, and an immaculately cleaned apartment. Inspiration here I come...

UPDATE (10:53pm): Thanks to Sash for the external motivation I needed - experiment one, fully contrasted, on to experiment two. Shout Out Louds, here I come.

my new drug...

Resolve High Traffic Carpet Cleaner. It works just as well as Xanax, as far as I'm concerned.

I just cleaned half of my carpet - on my hands and knees - with this stuff. And, WOW. The carpet is clean, and I've never felt as happy. It's a miracle. This is even better than the day I discovered Easy Off Oven Cleaner and my self-cleaning oven.

(also, I lifted enough hair off the carpet to spawn 17 baby cats and maybe a gorilla - gross)

17,356

The number of times I have loaded my flash drive up with things to work on at home, but forgotten to pull it out of the computer before leaving my office. Dangit.

UPDATE (3/6/2008): 17,357! (also, apparently forgot to shut my office door last night before rushing out - in a hurry much. Thankfully there is a lab door still between me and the rest of the world.)

with an i

Here's a piece of a conversation I had at a party on Saturday night with a girl whose name commonly ends in a y, but she spells it with an i.

me: "When you see your name but spelled with a Y, doesn't it just seem like something totally different?"
her: "Oh, definitely. In fact, I don't even like the name with a Y."
me: "me neither!"
her: "Whenever I go someplace and have to give my name, even where it doesn't matter, I always am sure to say..."
simultaneously: "WITH AN I!"

vote early, vote often!

When I was home for Christmas one of my friends asked me if Texas voted on Super-Tuesday, and I was embarrassed to say "I have no idea". I knew I wouldn't miss it when the election happened, but I was unsure if we were a Super-Tuesday state or not. Turns out, no. A few weeks after I was home I remember insinuating that Texas was strange for having some crazy "primary-caucus hybrid" and being pissy that we voted a full month after Super-Tuesday. At that time, it was suspected, that perhaps the candidates would be chosen by then - some wondered whether the race would still be competitive in Texas at that point.

Well, it is.

A few weeks ago UT hosted a debate between Obama and Clinton, it was amusing for the most part - particularly when they began to fight. (My personal favorite was when Hill burst out with a "But, Baaahh-Raaahhck!!".) In my opinion she looked foolish during much of that debate, except for the very end. Bill Clinton was at UT on Wednesday, and I was there to hear him speak. He truly is a great public speaker. He was there to tell us that Hillary is the best "agent of change" he knows. That while Obama touts himself as the change, Hillary is better able to make the change. On Thursday, Obama held a town-hall meeting in Austin. This is the first time that I've had this much personal attention from candidates, other than when we were electing our senior class officers in high school.

And while there can be much debate into how to choose which candidate to back: do you support women, or african americans? Are you more impressed by experience than promise? Does youth prevail? Education? Environment? Health care? International policy? IRAQ? There are many reasons why this democratic primary will be memorable. For me, the biggest reason may not be who I vote for, but how I vote.

Texas has an early voting system, which begins 17 days before an election and ends 4 days before an election. There are specific early voting polls, and anyone can vote at any location. It seems odd, and yet so simple. Why not open the polls early, give people more chances to be able to make it out to vote. I'm not sure how Texas is able to handle this and other states aren't, but they do it and it seems to work. To further confuse things, for the primaries we have what is referred to as the Texas Two-Step, a phrase so beloved by the state it is actually used to describe any number of things.

Two-thirds of the delegates are decided by the vote of the primary. The remaining one-third are decided by the caucus held 15 minutes after the polls close. In order to participate in the caucus, you must vote in the primary. You must be present at the caucus at precisely 7:15 for your participation to count. As it has been described to me, everyone gathers in one room and "signs-in" according to the candidate they choose. It sounds strange to me, but I'll be there to caucus for the first time.

What disturbs me the most about this whole system is, no one knows about it. I thought that I was the one who had caught on late - but truly, no one that I've spoken to knows anything about this. So I've been making it my personal mission to inform everyone I know. Vote early, vote often, long live Texas!

compliments

I was happy to be on the receiving end of this compliment during my stats class today...

"What was that thing that you brought to Brian's on Saturday?"
"Stuffed grape leaves?"
"Oh, you made those - they were great!"
"It was my first try, they were ok but they'll be better then next time. What did you think I made?"
"That Texas-shaped cake. I just assume whenever there is a baked good that you've made it. But I guess it's not just the baked goods it's whatever I can't stop eating - that's how I know what you've brought!"

i shouldn't touch things...

this looks like poo, but better than it did 10 minutes ago. I messed something up and don't have the time or patience to make it look nicer. Although, I'll work on it. Taking applications for personal assistants!

dear jack-holes

Dear jack-holes who don't know how to park properly,

There is limited street space nearby campus that doesn't require a neighborhood parking sticker, we all know this. I understand that those of you who arrive early want to park at the end of the street - closest to campus. But, as you pull in, please back-up completely, leaving minimal space between you and the car behind you. We could easily fit 10 more cars on this street. The 17 three-quarter parking spots I pass each morning really piss me off. And my car is small.

Thank you,
Disgruntled Commuter.

DISCLAIMER: It may be hard to see the actual size of these spots, but they are all about half a car length, and I took them all this morning. There were 3 I did not snap, since a car was coming and I was risking getting hit.