So.......................
Remember when I said I would be writing a new
blog post every Wednesday? Well that
lasted a whole two Wednesdays before I was like....
In case you haven’t noticed by now, I’m a little lacking in
the will-power department.
Anyways, ONWARD WE MARCH.
So what I have for you over the next few consecutive posts is
a series of weird childhood memories.
So you know.....like.... when you’re sitting in the waiting
room of the pediatrician’s office, the office you still go to even though you are a legal adult,
and all of the sudden these strange memories start bombarding you, memories
like that one time where you pooped in the pool at your cousin’s house, or
like, how you used to play with marbles for hours at a time? And you didn’t
even use them to play actual marbles, but you used to pretend they were a
family of glass balls that had thoughts and feelings and ate food and stuff?
And then you close your eyes and put your hands on your face and breath out like
shhhhoooooooooooo in a sigh-type of way?
And then you genuinely wonder to yourself how you actually had any friends? Like......any
at all? You know what I’m talking about? Okay good. (#samepage).
Well.
This has nothing to do with that.
This has to do with the fact that I am efficient. And by
efficient I mean I always try to find the easiest, most minimal way to do
things whilst still doing them, with no regards for the quality of my output,
only the opportunity cost of my energy and/or time. Some might call this “lazy”.
And to those some I say fuck
you I am efficient.
For example, when I was younger I used to play a lot of
sports, one of them being softball.
One thing you need to
understand is that 10 year old girls are not good at softball.
Especially the pitchers.
They were easy to distract, and if they threw four balls you
got to walk to first base. When the coach told me this, I was like “NO FUCKIN’
WAY! You mean that I could just stand there and wait for the pitcher to fuck
up?? And I don’t even have to run! I get to walk to first! Holy shit that’s
awesome.” (Well, that’s what I thought.
What I actually said was “mmhmm” while I nodded my head.)
So, obviously, this sounded like the easiest, most minimal
way to play softball, and I jumped on it.
I started finding new and creative ways to distract the
pitcher. For example, I came up with the
stupidest batting stance. I would squat really, really low to the
ground, jut my ass out until it was aligned with my knees, and wag it back and forth, back and forth, nice
and slowly, in pace with the increasing amount of head-tilts from confused lookers-on.
*If you don’t understand the picture here, go ahead and do
it yourself. Go on. In front of the mirror. Alright, you did it? You see what
an asshole you looked like? Okay good. (#samepage).*
I had a fucking
blast, and I apparently gave zero fucks about how idiotic I probably looked.
I thought it was so creative of me, and it actually worked! And by that I mean the pitchers sucked and
threw balls regardless of anything I did to provoke them.
My parents, god bless their evil/wonderful little souls, had
to come and sit through game after game and watch me make a fool of myself.
I thought I was hot shit, but can you imagine what that
looked like from the outside?
“oh my gawd, frank.” A mother in the stands would say to her
husband, shaking her head. “That poor gurl....mmm mmm mmm. Good for them,
though, for letting the re-tah-ded ones play.”
My parents would hear those whispers throughout the stands and
shake their heads and put their faces in their hands.
*Fun fact* : my batting stance in 2003 was inspiration for
the twerking craze of late 2012.
