Brutal alley

This morning's bowling festivities started promptly at 10:00 AM. The first team game has ended and madlizard has been giving very helpful advice and suggestions to improve my throws. Much to his and my chagrins, I bolwed only a 98 in the first game. Is it time for a beer yet? The alley's being kinda brutal today.

It's just a game, it's just a game

I keep telling myself that, "It's just a game," but honestly I so want to do better and better. My average on the whole has been increasing over the years and sometimes that's solice enough personally. It just sucks that when in with my team, in a tournament, with everyone elses' scores and efforts on the line that I can't bowl better this weekend. I shoulda had less wine last night and gotten a better night's sleep. It's encouraging, though to have teammates like madlizard and peterpandanyc around to offer support, expertise, and observations for improvement.

End of tournament

The end of the tournament has drawn nigh. The banquet is later, but I'm not heading there - miss my husband too much and I just wanna be home.

My last score of the last of the three games today was 114 - my entered average. At least I did get up to that today - took a beer for me to slow down and concetrate. What does that imply about my bowling abilities? I suck without some kind of medication!

We're on the way back to the hotel where I'll pick up my suitcase and beat a trail to Union Station. It'll be great to get on that train and go to sleep. Guaranteed I'll be sleeping at least 2 of the three hours.

One of the coolest things about the tournament was winning the Washington Blade basket. The basket was MONGO. Full of CDs, DVDs (music vids), and literature. I was very surprised and found out (late) that for having registered early, we got raffle tickets for free and this was one of the prizes! We'll enjoy that stuff.

So, I'm $500 poorer and my weekend average was horrible. I learned a lot though, got lots of pics, and did have fun. Can't wait to get home and get a bear hug... or two... or three.

Home again, home again

Home again, home again jiggity jig. Don't know where that originates, but my dad always said it. I'm waiting for Matthew to pick me up from the scary and eerily astrologically decorated Newark train station. We were here just a mere two days ago after fighting our way through traffic and rain for me to leave. We were so stressed that before I left and just after dinner, we bought a pack of Camels. We both smoked one apiece and I kept the pack, which I finished smoking today. And, no, that's not why I did poorly bowling, mind you; smoking helped me destress from my crappy scores, and they make beer taste that much better. plus, it was cool feeling like a true grit / redneck, smoking, drinking, and bowling for almost two days.

It'll be good to be home. It got cold here quickly!