Tag Archives: bowling

#212, or Bowling with my Parents, or Fun and Secrets


Don’t judge me but I totally pulled something in my back while bowling with my parents tonight. Yea, I’m a winner. I’m sure it has to do with my horrible form (I suck at bowling) but I’ll just pretend it’s related to some outside source that’s just really not my fault at all.

I’m incredibly tired today and the games seemed to be going longer than anyone was used to but it was still nice to do something a little different during the week. ¬†Also, on account of being all grown-uppy, I of course don’t live with my parents so it’s nice to have some time to hang out with them.

I also happen to be excited about a new top secret project. It’s so top secret that no one knows what it is because I am going to surprise the woooooorld. This is funny because I say this and then it’s going to be this totally boring project that makes everyone go “Uuhhh… was that it?”

So hmm, maybe I shouldn’t have told you I have a secret project. Maybe if I don’t tell you, you’ll be more excited by way of complete surprise.

Okay, so forget what I said about the top secret project. That never happened. Just focus on the bowling.

 

“Happiness is a conscious choice, not an automatic response.” Mildred Barthel¬†

I don’t know. Happiness seems to be pretty automatic when I eat chocolate. That’s just pure science.

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#102, or Mom Got a Turkey, or Not The Kind of Turkey She Wanted but Still a Turkey


As my dad was occupado again this week and could not assist the bowling team (the infamous Pinguins), I stepped in to save the day. I bowled a 77 and an 87. Go ahead, try and tell me 7 isn’t my lucky number – cuz you’re wrong. 7 is all up in my bizznasss.

So we were under the impression – based on the poor signage from the bowling alley – that if you got a strike in frame 3, 6, OR 9 during the 2nd or 3rd game then you win a turkey. I thought, well hey, that’s a really odd configuration for a game but why not give it a go.

During the 2nd game, both Beth and my mom got a strike in frame 6. We cheered, we were excited, we congratulated them on their turkey. Come to find out later, it’s not 3, 6, OR 9. It’s 3, 6, AND 9. Oops. Although, this makes much more sense. A turkey, in bowling terms, is 3 consecutive strikes.

Tonight, in frames 6, 7, and 8 of game 2 – my mother got a strike. So maybe my mother didn’t get a real live turkey but she got a bowling turkey instead! She was shooting for a turkey and she probably didn’t know that she already got one!

So this made me happy because my mom was excited, she was kicking butt, and I got to hang out and drink some beer. Oh and 2/3 people on the team we were playing didn’t show up so the game went rather quick.

I think my favorite parts though were the following 3 things: 1) my mother saying we all needed to do a pinguin high-five (yea, it’s as ridiculous as it sounds), 2) my mother saying she was a chicken and making a chicken noise, 3)telling my mom we were playing for a turkey and her following it up with a turkey noise and facial expression slash body movement.

Sometimes… people wonder why I’m such an odd duck.

Then they meet my parents and the questions suddenly fade away…

I’m so happy because today I found my friends – they’re in my head.” Kurt Cobain

Such truth, Kurt. Such truth.


#95, or Bowling with my Mom, or I’m an Awesome Bowler


My parents are in a bowling league with my mom’s company. They bowl every Wednesday and they have a hoot of a time. This week, it was too difficult for my dad to go so I was the substitute. I was sort of amazing. SO amazing – in fact – that I think I even bowled over 100 for one of the games. Holla!

Try not to be too overwhelmed by my incredible skills – this has taken years of hard work.

It was a nice night hanging with my mom, bowling with her buds, and eating some crappy food. I’m not feeling so hot so maybe the crappy food thing wasn’t the best choice but really – what other option is there at a bowling alley?

I also learned something tonight. I have apparently been bowling incorrectly for my entire life. I always used my thumb, pointer, and middle finger to bowl. Tonight my mom said I bowled weird and we asked everyone else how they used the ball. Apparently the pointer finger is used by me and me alone. Who taught me that? Who knows! I have been living a lie. Oh, and if you try to undo two decades of bowling incorrectly – it won’t work. I then tried to use their technique. Failwhale.

It’s sort of like that time when I was in high school and my parents were watching me do homework. They asked me who taught me how to write. I have no idea. I have been told since middle school that I hold a pencil like a total weirdo and that no one has ever seen anyone do that before – most notably my parents.

Dear Parents, If you weren’t teaching me how to hold a bowling ball or a pencil then clearly I taught myself. This is what has happened. I do things like a weirdo. Are you happy now?!?! You’ve ruined me forever. I shall see you in therapy.

Love is trembling happiness.” Khalil Gibran

I like that word. Trembling. I need to use that more.