Winning brings out the worst in people

The Annual Alumni Softball Tournament was created as a fundraiser for the high school, a way for past grads to support their alma mater, catch up with old friends, and drink entirely too much beer. Great, in theory, but then winning gets in the way. Lifelong friends are reduced to raging competitors who stop at nothing in the name of rivalry, to put it mildly. Conceitedness takes reign and fun is abandoned. One team's shirt even boasted "You want the title? We've got it! The road to the Championship goes through us. 2007 Undefeated Champions" Rivalry got so strong that teams who lost games and were ineligible for the Championship stepped aside in their remaining games and paved the way for those eligible teams to breeze on through, as EVERYONE wanted the T-Shirt Bandits to be knocked back into place. All in good fun was gone.

I was on that team-the one who was deemed the golden child and the only hope to administer retribution. It was decided, in the spirit of competition, that the three girls who were able to practice together each week would play constantly, with the fourth girl position being rotated among the 6 girls in the dugout. I'm sorry, but if we're playing competitive ball and practice attendance is the criteria for playing time, then please give those of us who live out of town more than 5 hours notice of the practice schedule. That's a crock of bull that wasn't made known until the tournament started. What a rude awakening that was. And yet when it came down to the end-all-be-all game against the team that everyone wanted to beat, even the catcher's position was not up for rotation. And it was me who was chosen to fill that spot, oh praise be!

Fittingly, we failed. Who knows what those shirts will say next year.

Rome Wasn't Built in a Day

And it took nearly two years for me to gain 25 pounds, so they aren't going to come off that easily. In an effort to expedite the process, read: have someone hold me accountable, I have invested my pocketbook with a Personal Trainer. Let me just say that it was a sad, sad day. Speaking as a former gym worker...ok, gym maintenance worker...I had free access to one of the top 10 gyms in the nation, working out with people who competed--and tried to get me into that life! I could work out with the best of em, just don't put me up on that stage!

So what happen? HE happened, and I hate myself for letting him happen to me. What am I talking about? The bodybuilder that I dated, practically lived with, but couldn't love. We worked out together and in a span of just 4 months he had me from mush to nearly stage-ready! And then we broke up. Or rather, I returned home from a girl's trip to San Antonio and he met me at the door with "You need to pack up your shit and get out. I'm taking control of my life." So I avoided him at all costs, which meant avoiding the gym. Somehow avoiding the gym equates to "consume massive amounts of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese." And that's how, 20 months later, I go from 123lbs to 147lbs.

With this new job in New Orleans, I figured that I will need something to keep me occupied during the evenings. Figuring that I'll get all the ugly work done away from home, I joined a gym and hired a trainer. After two sessions, ugly doesn't even begin to describe it. I told him to push me. I told him to hurt me. He listened. I'm disappointed because I know what I could do two years ago, and I cannot any longer. He says he would have never pushed anyone else that hard, but he knows that I want it. I think he's sugar-coating it. I think it's really that bad.

Here's the down and dirty truth, scaled to the same ratio:



Trainer says that I'll be down 15-20lbs in 3 months if I follow his workout plan and diet. We'll see.

Enjoy the Silence

I realize that I've been quiet for a few weeks. How I wish I weren't. These last few weeks have been extremely trying. The passing of Baby Cate, and a few weeks later, Baby Cooper, family vacation to Toledo Bend, home for 2 days, Canada for 6, home for 12 hours, New Orleans for 2 days, home...birthday weekend. I don't even remember what I did for my birthday. There was another death, and while I barely knew her, her husband has been like a second father to me for my entire life...without the absences, and drinking, and smoking, and punishments when I misbehaved. He was the teddy bear that loved me and my sister unconditionally. So I went to the funeral. And last night when I got home...there was a fight about cardstock, CDs, and later, opening a wine bottle. Tensions were high and I just wanted to walk away from it. He did. Grabbed his phone and started walking home.

Conflict resolution has never been one of my strongest suits. Remember that I was engaged at 17 and took nearly 5 years of daily berating before he left me. Yep. I was willing to take more. During those years with him, I would curse and scream and kick and yell, but he never heard. I was...a bitch. I've made a very conscious effort to never become that person again because I didn't know who she was, my family didn't recognize her, and I didn't like her.

So last night when the curse words were flying, and wine openers were slamming on the counter top, I just left the room because I didn't want to subject myself to argument with his temper. Couple that with the earlier scene at the office supply store. I was trying to relay the information on the cardstock type paper that I needed, and then was subjected to a litany of my inadequacies in the graphics knowledge department because I was speaking completely generically about "a thicker weight paper". We left the store with no paper. Or cardstock.

He won't say it because that's him, but I have to wonder if his sudden temper swings have to do with a visitor in town. He's worried.