-Excerpts from myspace-
For those of you who have witnessed my athletic prowess over the course of my incredibly physically active life, (insert chortle here) you will be surprised to hear that I have become quite the sport-o over the past few months. Ok…fine…my 84-year-old grammy could probably kick my ass at bowling. And I think I was up at bat at softball for a good 10 minutes yesterday while I swung at pitch after pitch after pitch while the creepy catcher whispered sweet nothings in my ear like “choke up on it,” “wait for it to come more inside your body” and “spread your legs a little more.” (heeby-jeeby) But I have to tell you…once I came to terms with the fact that I am possibly the most uncoordinated person in the world, it was a lot more fun. Less trying more laughing…that is my game plan.
But sports isn’t really the topic of this blog…it is more about perception. When I was at the tender, freakishly-tall age of nine, I got the basketball question. Like height automatically means I can jump high and toss a ball into a basket? I think not. It was annoying then…but as of late I have found perceptions to be more perplexing.
I was at a party on Saturday night and I mentioned that I played softball on Thursdays. My conversation partner looked me up and down, sizing me up, and said, “Oh, you look like a softball girl, did you play in college?”
Um…I don’t know about you, but when I think of girls college softball I envision large-calved tom boys with anger issues and nasty bruises. Is that what I look like to people? Maybe I should start wearing dresses…Thoughts?