Today we went on an afternoon Thurs-date to Brunswick Alley & Arcade. We bowled and watched Ivy play Dance Dance Revolution and watched Geoff play that one game where you hit the tall thing with a hammer and it lights up if you're really strong, you know the one. At the end of our visit we cashed in our 27 tickets for a Jolly Rancher sucker and one of those suction froggy-poppers. It was such a fun time, and that means a lot coming from me because I used to hate bowling. I once cried as a kid because my family made me go bowling. The things first-world kids go through!
My dislike for bowling does not stem from the fact that I'm awful at it (well that might be a major contributing factor), it's because I never liked the idea of a sport that required me to have my backside face my bowling peers. Talk about vulnerablility! And also I'm pretty self-consious about my backside.
While I'm on the topic, you should hear my inner dialogue while I'm up to bowl. When I bowl poorly, I very quickly swivel around, red-faced, only to see encouraging smiles and I think, "Don't make eye contact! Also don't look too disappointed or you'll look like a poor sport!"
Then theres the one time in the game when I may actually bowl pretty well, and that's even worse, I tell you what. I slowly turn around, red-faced, to see people clapping and giving me the thumbs-up. That's when the anxiety sets in. I think, "Don't look too excited! Hold back the egyptian walk Stacie! Hold back the river-dance and the kick-ball-chaines! Don't even get yourself started with the back-handsprings! Most importantly, don't let them see you smile Stacie!" (How glad are you that you don't live in this over-thinking, self-consious and anxiety-ridden head? Add delusional to that list, because I don't know how to do back-handsprings.)
Anyways, today I was able to let the frowns and competitiveness and jazz-walks and hollering and most importantly the smiles all come out, and I broke 200 and got a Turkey. (Actually 98 and no turkey, but who's counting?) I blame it all on my little family of jowlers and nose-pickers, they make me really happy. Happy enough to bowl without breaking out in hives, even.