Must-haves

To keep me going on a daily bases, I need:
-lots and lots of water
-constant access to my cell phone
-words of affirmation
-to laugh on multiple occassions
-caffiene
-chap stick
-Internet
-snacks from the snack drawer
-more water
-to update my yellow sticky notes multiple times
-to listen to some good tunes
-and my usual dose of Facebooking

Pretty standard, n'est pas?

And so it goes

I feel a lump in my throat, a hesitance in my speech. I feel tightening in my chest. I feel heaviness upon my shoulders. I feel a sense of dread course through me. Simultaneously, a sense of confusion, of unknowing, of apprehension, of wistfulness.

Why?

Ever longing

I long for sandy beaches.
...for rolling mountains and valleys and countrysides.
...for days spent curled up with just a blanket and a good book.
...for understanding.
...to eat candy and cake and never gain a pound.
...for good hair days every day.
...for more time with my best friends.
...for more motivation to run and exercise.
...for a closet filled magically with a new and exciting wardrobe on a regular basis.
...to be a better Christian.
...to travel.
...to be a better person.
...to write something that will touch you.

Good vs. bad

Some days more so than others, I feel my faults and flaws stare me in the face. Some days I just can't hide my shortcomings. I can't push them down or create diversions to distract people from them. They're right there in the open for all the world to see. And I'm exposed for what I really am.

I feel like I've had a lot of those days lately. Like when I'm rude or curt or unfriendly. When my words bite or my actions give away a less-than-happy demeanor. I know immediately I've put something out into the world I shouldn't have. I know I've done something I can't take back. It's like it scrolls in front of my face, writtin in bold script, dancing before me, telling me I've acted in a way I shouldn't.

I want to be a better person. I want to be a kinder, friendlier, more altruistic person. I want people to see the good and not the bad. I want the good in me to far outweigh the bad.

...

I feel uninspired.

Saturday, Sweet Saturday

Love me some Saturday. No work. No place to go. Bliss.

Mel and I had a fun Friday night, consisting of driving out to Pinewood to see if we could find a restaurant there that we (read: I) wanted to try. We found it. It wasn't open. But then we headed back to Sumter (a thrilling drive with my gas light staring at me in bright green), and we settled for dinner at Georgio's. YUM! Way good. Then we rented and watched a movie I've wanted to watch FOREVER: The Big Lebowski. It was ... different.

Then today, we woke up at the crack of dawn. Had some coffee. Then a little bit of early morning yard-saling with Mel, Jamie and Jamie's mom. Then home for more coffee. Must rejuvenate. Waking up at 6 a.m. on Saturday is rough..

Baseball in the summer

In Sumter, during the summer, baseball is king. While in other parts of the world, American Legion baseball is a memory that goes hand in hand with drive-in movie theaters, carhops and soda fountains, it is alive and well in Sumter, S.C.

American Legion ball draws to the ball field the men with white hair -- and no hair -- and the young couples and the moms with children and the teenagers who want to show off in front of their friends. Summer nights in Sumter mean baseball.

Riley Ball Park has seen decades of Sumter's teenaged boys don the signature blue and red uniform of the American Legion Post 15 team -- or as folks in Sumter fondly call them, the P-15's. The park has seen some mighty wins. It's seen enthusiasm and disappointment. Sweat from the brows of hundreds of boys has watered the field of green grass.

The stands hum with conversation, occassional cheers to the batter or jeers to the umpire.

Breezes are few. The air hangs thick with humidity, and fans' skin glows with a summer stickiness they've become accustomed to as South Carolinians. Hair sticks to faces. Cardboard fans rat, tat, tat against the air in front of those flushed faces. Mosquitos and gnats and flies feast on legs barely covered by shorts and t-shirts.

But the heat and the bugs don't matter. When a P-15 hits the ball deep and lands a spot on base, when the bases are loaded or when a streak of blue and red whizzes past home plate, a cloud of dust flying, it's all worth it. The old men, the couples, the moms, the kids, the teens, they all clap and whistle and howl.

The smell of boiled peanuts mixes with the smell of sweat. Peanut shells litter the concrete floor of the stands. Boys and girls tote trays filled with sodas and popcorn through the crowd. And sometimes trips have to be made to the snack bar for hot dogs topped with sauerkraut.

No one's a stranger. Everyone sitting around you is your friend and wants to share with you their enthusiasm about the P-15's, about how things are at work or about how the kids are doing.

In Sumter, Riley Ball Park is abuzz with life in the summertime.