Wednesday, May 13, 2009

A Memo From the Desk of Me

"Writing is like pulling teeth. Out of my dick"

-David Rakoff (from Don't Get Too Comfortable: The Indignities of Coach Class, The Torments of Low Thread Count, The Never-Ending Quest for Artisanal Olive Oil, and Other First World Problems)

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

I'm A Slugger, Dottie



Last night, while on the phone with Brian, I teased that I will soon write a book titled “Long Distance Marriage: Things I Find Myself Doing While My Husband Is Away,” which would include my newest past time: hitting balls.

With the season of nice weather seemingly here to stay, my friend Mike and I have added a spin on our bi-weekly burrito meet-ups: the batting cages, located just on the outskirts of the city. Mike has been going for years and swears that the small park has changed little since the 70s. Thirteen hits per dollar token and you get to choose what you want to hit: softball, slow, medium and fast.

I had my apprehensions, at first. I haven’t had a bat in my hand since I was a first grade tee ball player, for one season. Contrary to popular (dis)belief, I was a shy child and I often chickened out or refused to participate in any activity that included “all-eyes-on-me” attention. I hated when my grade school teachers would pick students at random. I would sit at my desk, heart pounding in my eardrums, praying silently to the Gods of “do-not-pick-me“. Around the same time, my Mother, in efforts to break me out of my shell signed me up for dance classes. She finally allowed me to quit when I was 12 yrs old and had developed a nervous/anxiety induced skin rash (which has since gone away, thank you very much).

So with my apprehension mixed with my established adult go-to attitude, I entered the batting cages in front of a handful of people … And you know what? Come to find out I’m quite the slugger. My generally pacifist nature aside, I enjoy hitting things with a bat.

After my first time, I left with the triumphant feeling that I had somehow come to terms with my shy past. The slate felt wiped clean of all of those activities that I talked myself out of as a child, the misadventures, bridges never crossed and both skin creams and anti-acids (respectfully).

After I arrived home, I called my husband and explained with great enthusiasm and hand gestures left unseen my newfound aptness with a baseball bat. Brian laughed and his voice took the tone of “that’s the goofy broad I married” (he would then switch to a concerned tone or “please do not harm my goofy broad’s melon” after I told him that I don’t wear a helmet. “Honey, my hair is helmet enough!”). **

Tuesday evening, as Mike and loaded up on tokens and took turns choosing what we wanted to hit amongst the other batter ups, I took notice of a woman who appeared to be on a first date. She seemed nervous and held her bat as though it were a golf club, while her date shouted “Bend your knees!” and “Watch the ball!”. She giggled warily and continued to swing without much might. As she walked out of the cage and I tightened my batting gloves, I offered a bit of advice: “I just think of my bills whenever I take a swing.”

…Of course, the woman gave me a dirty look but I’d like to think that she will heed my advice on any other future dates to the batting cages.

The same night (with my electric and cell bills in mind) I made it up to the medium (which come at you 55 mph) pitch and found out that I can hit curveballs!

With less than 4 weeks left before my husband (finally and officially) moves in, I hope to make it up to fast pitch …And yes, I’ll wear a helmet.

**The “that’s the goofy broad I married” tone is old hat in Brian and I’s marriage.

A Sunday night, in February:

Brian: “How’d burrito go, honey?”
Me: “Great! We went to Milwaukee!”
Brian: “What!?”

A few days after our wedding:

Me: [out of breath] “Hi honey, how are you? I’m just calling to let you know that I’m ok. I know I said that Mike and I were going to go to the Polish museum, today but it’s so nice outside so we decided to go to a forest preserve out past Midway …Well, the walking path was boring so we got on the horse trail and that was boring too so we decided to make our own path … [out of breath] We got lost for nearly 2 hrs but don’t worry! We made it back to the car! I have scratches all up my arms but don’t worry! We‘re going to go get a celebratory burrito!”
Brian: “Honey …What!?”

This past Monday:

Me: “I was sort of bored so I was trying to think if I owned any movies that I haven’t seen yet …So I went through the dreadful DVDs that my Mother has sent me throughout the years and ended up watching a movie with Kevin Costner and Ashton Kutcher, as US Coast Guards.”
Brian: “What!?”