Let me Suck in Peace!

A couple weeks ago I went bowling with some friends.  Bowling’s really not my favorite pastime and I was miffed because the night was supposed to be a Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathon until it got colonized by some of my more extroverted affiliates.  I honestly would have just stayed home, and probably had a better time, but it was one of said extrovert’s birthdays and also my last chance to see several colleagues before they left the country for research.  And while I don’t like bowling, I do, from time to time, enjoy good company.  So I went.

Let’s be clear about something:  I am a terrible bowler.  I know a lot of people say that they’re terrible bowlers, but I have yet to meet anyone quite as bad as I am.  I have multiple total game scores in the single digits.  If I break 40 in a single game, I’m positively excited.  On the other hand, I really don’t care.  First of all, if I’m gonna suck at something I’d rather suck epically than just be mediocre.  Second of all, of all the things in life I care about having skill at, bowling isn’t one of them.  My several years long inability to make hashbrowns upset me.  Being the worst bowler on the planet?  Meh.  Who cares?  Tell me I’m the worst writer or worst scholar or worst acrobat on earth and I would be devastated.  I really don’t care about my bowling stats.

Ordinarily I can still have a good time bowling because I can be social for a limited period of time, laugh at my lack of skills, laugh at people who care about bowling, etc, etc.  The only thing that really spoils it for me is when other people start caring about my suckatude.  For whatever reason, my dearth of bowling skills is much more offensive to those around me than to me.  So on this most recent venture several of my friends decided they needed to help me with my game.  Every frame meant more pointers, more analysis of how I was doing things, more tips and techniques.

And I have to say, it’s one of the least fun experiences I’ve had bowling in a long time.  Ordinarily if I roll a gutter ball, I shrug and dance my way back to the seats (got to love the bad music bowling alleys almost always provide).  Instead, every gutter ball prompted several people clustered around me analyzing exactly what went wrong and telling me what I needed to do different next time.  And my game didn’t get any better.  In fact, it got worse.  And for the first time in ages it bothered me that my game was that bad.  And bowling wasn’t a fun social activity anymore, it was a place where I was inferior to everyone.

So anyway, it will be a long time before I go bowling with that crowd again.  But public service announcement if we have any of those “helpful” types out there:  if your friend seems okay with not being good at something, sometimes the best thing you can do is buy her a beer and dance along with her.  Your “helpful” tips can be a mood killer.

Old Nerdy Party!

This isn’t much of a post really.  I’ve had two glasses of wine and a gin and tonic.

I’m at Cammy’s.  And as she’s said in yesterday’s post loyal readers Mary and Teapot are here too.  Whoo hoo!  As one of my students said Thursday, “Party!”

Only as I said to him, “Party like old nerdy people.”  Translation we spend a lot of time sitting around eating snack foods.  We went to get barbeque at a Kansas City barbeque place.  And it was delicious.  Then we drove around some interesting Mormon sites.  (waves to our token Mormon reader!)

Tomorrow there may be a trip to a museum.  And shortly there will be gin and tonic sorbet.  Because yes, I bring my ice cream maker on trips.

It occurs to me that my students would find this extremely lame.  It also occurs to me that I don’t give a damn.  Because I’m having a fantastic weekend with fantastic ladies.

Also, Cammy just poured me a glass of Chocovine.

Rock on!

This Post Has Been Usurped by Wine and Good Conversation

1) I may or may not make typographical and grammatical errors influenced by the 3 glasses o Shiraz I’ve consumed at this point.

2) I haven’t had a chance to call, well, ANYONE who doesn’t have a confirmed blood relation to me in about 3 months–possibly more.

3) I called my blogging partner- in-crime, Kristy, this evening at 6:30

4) I cracked open the shiraz at about the same time

5) It’s past my 00:00 hour due date for this post because we just got through talking (so, over 6 hours on the phone).

In my defense, this blog was (one of) the topic(s) of conversation.  It was actually about 1 year ago that I registered this domain name and began the process of setting up WordPress for the blog you’re reading now.  The research for what hosting service we would ultimately choose began more than a month earlier.  The fact that we didn’t begin posting until several months later is a testament to our procrastination about this endeavor.

Somewhere between freaking one another out with creepy tales of serial killers (which extended the conversation because you CANNOT hang up with someone after freaking both out to the point that sleep is just not going to happen), and updates on family members, we spoke about the future of this project.  What to do in the future?  How to keep you gentle readers entertained?  Projects, series. plans….

In our usual “why-do-today-what-you-can-put-off-until-tomorrow” way, we brainstormed some high level concepts that we marked TBD for our next phone call. But it’s early yet.  By next year, we’ll still be ready for something more entertaining.

And what can you expect beyond more of the same?  Well, no guarantees, but possibly some creative fiction, some new visuals, maybe some audio, and–if we can con any of you, gentle readers, some guest appearances yet to come.

We deeply appreciate every one of you who’s bothered to drop a comment or an e-mail (we more-or-less appreciate those of you who read but don’t comment 😉 ).  You’re always welcome to let us know what changes may want to see in the next year (up to and including comments on how I should leave the writing to Kristy, who can spell and doesn’t post while under the influence of wine).  As always, the comment box is open and if you don’t want to talk here, let us know via e-mail at either of our names (kristy or cammy) dot the domain name.  (Why am I writing it that way?  To avoid spam-bots).

Who Knew Best Friends Were Bad?

So, apparently, there’s a trend to dissuade kids from being “best friends” and encourage them to be more broadly social.  Or, so suggests this article from the New York Times.

I’ve been shocked and horrified by a lot of things, but if this is accurate?  I’ve gone beyond shock and horror.

On behalf of those of us who are introverted and quite bloody happy that way, I resent the idea of camp counselors and teachers trying to make everyone be friends with everyone.  Because that’s “healthier”?  FTW?  I don’t like everyone and I don’t like having to pretend I do.  Small talk is a chore, and if the kid next to me is too stupid to have a real conversation why am I the unhealthy one for not wanting to exchange trite words?  It actually sucks a lot out of me to deal with large groups of people.  I lose energy, patience…my temper.  Wouldn’t that mean the healthier scenario is the one I grew up with and still maintain:  a few really close friends?

And I’m not sure the fact that my socializing preferences are being called “unhealthy” is really the worst part.  I think its worse that adult institutions are invading yet another aspect of just being a kid.  It’s not enough that these rug-rats are scheduled and managed to a T and deprived of the opportunity to just roam the neighborhood and build tree forts and generally goof off, now they aren’t even free to build and break their own inter-kid relationships.  It’s kind of sad.  I don’t envy kids these days.  Especially not the quiet ones who just want to hang out with their best friends.