Are you kidding??? I have a Pimple...

Counting down to my 50th and this morning proved that I really am a teenager trapped in a body that is nearly 50...I had a pimple on my forehead ... I had to laugh. I always say that I feel like I'm a younger person than I actually am so this proves it, right??? Funny...when you're in your teens you go through hormonal changes and as a woman fast approaching 50 - I'm going through hormonal changes - again! They say that is part of going through "the change". I find that phrase humorous - The Change. Like what the heck am I going to change into? I want to change into Angelina Jolie please....okay, I'd settle for Catherine Zeta-Jones. Seriously, "the change"... I assure my one reader (yes I have one reader - okay so what if it's my daughter)..that this count down is not going to be about hot flashes, and other things that "old" people talk about. Enough of that already.

Last night was my first blog. So this morning I woke up thinking about what I'd share this evening and I had some really profound thoughts then I saw the pimple and those profound thoughts flew out the window.

But really - my one profound thought I did remember was this: that from now until the big day I'd do a "this day in history 50 years ago"; apparently nothing of serious consequence happened on September 1, 1959. On September 2 however - oh - you'll have to wait until tomorrow for that big news from 50 years ago. Then I decided to see what was going on in my life on September 1, 1975; apparently nothing was going on then either - I didn't have an entry on that day, but I can say that I was hoping that some boy named Steve would ask me to a party. Steve - from 1975 - I have no clue as to who you might have been. That's the other thing - I think my memory is going.

1975...I was a sophomore in high school and I decided to go from freshman cheerleader (I was a terrible cheerleader) to playing volleyball (and an even worse volleyball player). Here's what you have to understand, I was and still am all of 5'2"...I am the "5'2 eyes of blue" gal. At that time I may have weighed 108 pounds - my teammates had at least 4 inches on me and Priscilla had not only 4 inches, but about 9 inches and 60 pounds. I was awful, but I loved to play - or at least try. This morning as I did read in my journal from 1975 that I was feeling the burden of being the worst player on the team so I had gone to my coach to quit. I told my coach that I felt it was best to quit since I wasn't any good, couldn't serve over handed and it wasn't fair to my team. My coach could have said - you're right you do stink you should quit. Instead, she encouraged me to keep playing. While I wouldn't be a star player I could learn to serve and she would teach me how to serve underhanded (back then you could still legally do that in high school). She told me that my team was fine with me it was me that wasn't fine with me. So I stayed on the team and she did teach me how to serve to the line often scoring a few extra points for my team since the opponent always underestimated me.

To this day whenever I think about quitting something or I get the "I can't do it" attitude, I remember my coach. I remember her showing me how to do something a different way and encouraging me to be a part of the team. It was good being a part of a team and at least out there trying was better than sitting in the bleachers.