Pickleball (46)

July 30th
Pickleball. It's a new thing with the retiree set of New Jersey and Florida. So new, in fact, that my typed word on the screen has an angry red line underneath. Wikipedia does recognize the term, though; I guess it must be a thing.

I played pickleball yesterday with Norman, Donna, and Josh. I am not good at pickleball. I got my skinny body moving around the court... not to hit the ball exactly, but to run after a ball I didn't hit. We drove all the way to Red Bank to a transformed hockey rink to play the game. Following the rules of where to stand on the court was just as crazy as the number system Donna was using for scoring. I woke up feeling sick today. I moved my body in new ways yesterday and I am now paying for the results. It did feel good to get moving while I was moving.

I tried to be friendly yesterday. I made a relaxed brunch for Donna and Josh on the deck. They brought bagels, I provided the scrambled eggs, fruit and coffee, and I did not go crazy cleaning my house. We took a long drive to Red Bank, played pickleball, took a walk around town with Teddy and Andrea, and then all met up again at night for dinner at the cheap Chinese place in Matawan.

I really did try to be friendly yesterday, so why were my feelings crushed at the end of the day? I even played pickleball. I thought perhaps I was coming out of my introverted self by swinging a racquet. No, the wooden racquet did not meet the plastic ball as often as it should have, but it did swing around at the end of my arm. Didn't that show everyone a new side to me? I even joked that I was actually playing vagina ball, not pickleball since I more often caught the ball between my legs instead of against the racquet. I must have a sense of humor. Had to laugh at myself. God. But then, after dinner, Andrea and Donna made plans to get together, totally leaving me out of their conversation even as I was standing next to them. What, the vagina ball champ is not good enough to go to lunch with, shop with, or tan with on the beach? True I don't eat out well, I don't shop well, and I don't tan when I hide under an umbrella, but still, a girl likes to be included.

Well, neither of my friends paint or write and I don't ask them for help with those activities. Andrea considered buying a bracelet at the street sale in Red Bank yesterday while I splurged on an art projector for myself on the computer earlier in the day. So I am different. So what? I wonder if I will be purchasing a pickleball racquet next.