Susieboldt's Blog

Random Comments from a Dreamer

Why do I Play Baseball?

I was wondering today why I enjoy playing baseball.

When you really think about it, baseball makes no sense at all. Why would someone willingly put their body parts in danger? Not only is the pitcher a mere sixty feet from home plate, but the infield players are just a few feet behind him. All it would take is one of those men who’s made it his life goal to zap every ounce of fat on his body and turn it into muscle to come up to bat. One swing and who knows what could happen. Noses could get broken, eyes could be blackened, legs could be bruised, jaws could fractured, heck, men could even lose their ability to reproduce. These are all very common events in the game of baseball.

I’ve broken my nose at least once playing baseball.

The first time my nose was probably broken was when I was playing bat catcher waiting for my neighbour friend to swing at the oncoming ball. As he swung he accidentally let go of the bat and it just so happened to connect with the bridge of my nose. I had a popped blood vessel and more likely than not, a broken nose.

Even after such a harrowing experience, I continued to play baseball. In fact, I played for a competitive girl’s team for a few years in a row while in public school. This was a league where eleven year old girls were put on teams with fourteen year olds. Now this may not sound like much of an age difference, but when a team gets lucky enough to get one of those good and experienced fourteen year old girls, like me at the time, those eleven year olds don’t stand a chance. I remember being up to bat and the pitcher was scared of me. I didn’t blame her. I’d be scared of me if I had been pitching. As she let go of the ball she forgot to brace herself and get her glove up. I smashed the baseball and it line-drived right into her chest. She fell over and stopped breathing for a while. An ambulance was called and she was escorted into the back of the meat wagon to be examined. I did that to her. Granted, after half an hour, she was fine; none the less this experience has made me afraid to be a pitcher.

I’ve seen grown men get hit by baseballs that they didn’t even see until they were hit with them. I’ve heard of men dying after getting hit in the head. I’ve seen women dive at baseballs and end up breaking their collar bones instead of catching the stupid things. So the question remains: why in the world do we play such a game?

I’ve given it some thought, and the only explanation that I could come up with was that humans like the feeling of winning, and people will go though anything to feel that high; even put their bodies in front of eighty miles-an-hour flying baseballs.

You would think that since I acknowledge how stupid the game of baseball really is, I would stop. You would think that after watching another girl keel over from pain and loss of breath that I would cease and desist. I guess not.

I decided to take a year off. No baseball, just coaching. Well a lot of good that did me. I’m playing in tournaments now. Something I vowed never to do again. So my year off has turned into the opposite. But the funny thing is I’m not really that upset. I’ve learned that I do actually want to play baseball. Sometimes I dream about hitting homeruns and then I wake up wanting to grab my bat and go hit a few.

I might never fully understand the game of baseball and why I dream about it, but what I do know is that if I’m able I’ll be playing till I’m eighty.

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June 30, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | 1 Comment

The Winner!

And the winner of the $10 Tim Horton’s gift card is……… *drumroll*………


Congrats Jaina! Thanks so much for reading my blog. And to everyone else who commented, thank you once again. I’ll continue to give away prizes, so keep reading!

June 25, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | 1 Comment


Gambling. Is it right or wrong?

We all knew that this issue would eventually pop up on my blog, didn’t we? I’ve been thinking long and hard about it, and I’ve come up with some ideas, possibly even a conclusion.  

I bought a LottoMax ticket the other day. It was only six dollars, so I didn’t feel very guilty. However, I did start to feel guilty when I began to think long term. What would I do with the millions if I won? Would I be able to spend the majority of it on other needier people? This of course, is what I’d like to think I would do if I ever came across a large sum of money. I would distribute it to friends, family and of course multiple organizations who help out the hungry and poor. Yet, the age old question reappears with that thought; would I actually do what I would like to do? Money has a notorious track record for corruption, and who’s to say that I am immune to this corruption?

After scanning my ticket I was disappointed. I had lost. For some strange reason I had thought for sure that I had won. Maybe not the grand prize, but at least some money. I mean think about it. Fifty million dollars was given away as a grand prize, and forty five extra millions were being handed out as extra prizes. I was bound to win something, even three hundred dollars for Pete’s sake. Yet alas, I walked out of the store with my head slumped low, and a losing ticket crumpled up in my wallet. I put it back in my wallet because I was sceptical of throwing it out. What if it really was the winning ticket and I had thrown it away?

That right there is what makes me think that gambling must be wrong. It makes people think crazy things, and ponder over how much money they could have won if only they had picked the right numbers. It makes people line up week after week to purchase lottery tickets and throw away their money into the gambling association’s hands. Even I thought about lining up this week to once again buy a ticket. It’s a fool’s errand. It really is. Why can’t I be happy to just earn my money like normal people and be content with what I have? Oh, wait, it’s because I’m human.

I was listening in on a conversation happening around me while at a baseball tournament. Yes, I was eavesdropping, get over it. The group was discussing gambling. A few of the group members considered it okay to once in a while buy a ticket, but others associated buying lotto tickets to being the same as grandmothers raffling off a hand knit quilt. This I did not understand. These grandmothers are probably trying to raise money for something legit and cause worthy, while buying lottery tickets is inevitably taking money out of poor people’s hands and giving to the rich men who created such an organization.

I wouldn’t go as far to say that raffle tickets and playing poker in somebody’s living room for a few bucks is wrong. But, after buying that LottoMax ticket, I have to say it made me think really hard about where those six dollars went. It made me think about casinos and the lure they have to some people. I’ve seen people sit at machines with their credit cards lodged into the payment slots. I’ve heard of people mortgaging their houses, and losing their families over the pull of big money.

So I have to say, in my own heart I believe that gambling is wrong. That isn’t to say that I will stop purchasing Bingo and Crossword tickets. Maybe I’ll even buy a few more LottoMax tickets within my lifetime. I’m as weak as anyone else, but I do know that every time I gamble I’ll end up disappointing myself even further.

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June 23, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | 4 Comments

An Update

Hey blog readers!

A friend of mine brought to my attention the un-fairness of choosing a winner by random number. She pointed out that the first person who comments will never win, because, we’ll let’s face it, nobody ever picks number one. So instead, I’m going to write down everyone’s names, place them in a bowl, and chose one the old fashioned way. That way it’s fair for everyone.

K, that’s all. Check back soon for an actual blog.

June 20, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | 5 Comments

Songs that make me want to run off the Road

I’ve got you hooked, haven’t I?

Just by reading the title you’ve already got a certain song in mind. It might even be playing in your head right now. I apologize for that. I really do. I know how annoying it is when you hear that song. You know, that one song that the radio plays a bazillion times and makes you want to kidnap and ransom the radio DJ. 

For me, it’s Lady Antebellum’s “Need you Now”.

Although, let’s be honest here.  I loved that song the first couple hundred times I heard it. But now, it’s just gotten out of hand. And the worst part about it is that I still sing along to it. It’s like a siren song. Every time it plays, I can’t turn it away. My hands won’t move to turn that dial. I am quite literally forced to sing along with it. Dang those catchy rhythms and low notes. Even my voice can follow along.

Did you know that “Need you Now” wasn’t even going to be a part of Lady Antebellum’s album? Yeah, apparently their producer made them include it because of its ability to become a radio single.

At first I thought this to be impossible news. I couldn’t believe that Lady Antebellum wasn’t even going to include this song on their CD. How dare they exclude such a beautiful song! My opinions have since changed. I’m starting to think that maybe the world would have been a better place had that producer just listened to his band’s wishes.

There are two other songs that make me want to run my car off the road. They’re both tied in general suckiness and have been over-played to the max. Lady Gaga’s “Alejandro”, and Jason Derulo’s “In my Head”. Do you know these songs? If not, stay far away from them.

Sometimes when I turn the radio station away because of one of those songs, the other stations that I turn to for solace are coincidentally playing the same songs! How is this even possible? Out of all the songs in the world, the radio DJ’s feel the need to play the exact same song at the exact same moment. It makes me wonder what this world is coming to. It makes me seriously consider kidnapping the DJ’s. 

Some radio stations seem to play the same songs over and over again. And once a new song comes out, forget about ever hearing your old favourites! I’m poking fun at a specific radio station here. I’m sure some of you know exactly which one I am referring to.

Is there a song that gets you all riled up inside?

Tell me what it is by commenting on my blog and you could win a $10 Tim Horton’s gift certificate. On Thursday of next week, June 24th, I’ll get someone who doesn’t read my blog to pick a random number and the comment that lands on that number will win! If you can’t put a name to that dreaded song, just comment anyway, got it?

June 19, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | 15 Comments

My Lost and Lonely Bike

The other day I felt strangely motivated.

Not motivated enough to clean, or finish the half done laundry, but just motivated enough to go for a bike ride.

I slipped on a pair of jogging pants and wedged my feet into my Adidas running shoes. By this time I was pumped. This would be my first bike ride of the year!

As I walked into my garage I noticed that my bike was not where I thought it was. In my mind I had a clear picture of my bike sitting up against the far wall covered in cobwebs. But, as I scoured our empty garage I didn’t see any bike.

My next thought was that my bike must have been moved into the shed. Now our shed is not like a normal person’s shed. Our shed is like two sheds merged into one. It has two separate compartments, with two separate keys. I’m sure you could imagine how annoying this is.

I unlocked the first shed with a little apprehension, and quickly peered inside. No bike. Before any spiders could get the jump on me, I closed the door fast.

The next shed compartment was the one I feared the most. You see, we have a hole in this shed, a hole that no matter how many times we plug up, finds its way back to hole form again. As I opened the lock, I braced myself for the worst. You might be asking yourself what I find to be the ‘worst’ situation. My worst fear was that a rabid racoon would jump out at me and scratch my face off. Who knows, this racoon could be a mother. Mother racoons are the worst; they have to protect their young.

I straightened my body and opened the door slowly, as not to scare any of the woodland creatures taking residence in shed #2.

I breathed a sigh of relief, no animals jumping at my face. I scanned the space for my bike and became confused when I didn’t see it.

If my bike wasn’t in the garage, or in either sheds, where could it be?

I proceeded to call my mom, and my uncle, who would be the only two people who would have my bike. Either they had borrowed it at some point in time and never returned it, or I had accidentally and out of laziness left it there.

Unfortunately, both of my leads were shot down. Still no bike.

I’ve now come to the only conclusion left: my bike was stolen. Someone must have walked into my garage and taken my bike. This is the only plausible explanation.

So keep your eyes open blog readers. If you happen to see an orange bike with black letters spelling “Mudslide” down the side, it’s probably mine, and the owners are probably thieves.

June 16, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Statue of Jesus struck by Lightning

If you’ve been reading my blog, and keeping up with me, I posted a blog on October 11th, 2009 called “The ‘King of Kings’ Statue” It was about a church called the Solid Rock Church in Monroe Ohio, which built a huge Jesus statue. If you remember, this “Touchdown Jesus” as some like to call it, cost the church $250 000.

Well, maybe you’ve already heard, maybe not; but this statue no longer exists. A bolt of lightning hit the Jesus statue and it burnt to the ground.

All that’s left of him is the steel frame. This is incredibly surprising information to some people, me included. For some reason Christians have this belief that natural disasters wouldn’t come close to destroying something that glorifies God. They assume that if a lightning storm hits, it will just know to avoid the religious monuments. Or if a tornado forms, it will just understand that churches cannot be destroyed. Of course, I don’t agree with that statue ever being built, but you can read my “The ‘King of Kings’ Statue” blog to find out why. It seems that some Christians think that if they build a statue of Jesus, it too is immortal.

A member of Solid Rock Church says, “I can’t believe Jesus was struck,” said [a church member], who noted the giant Hustler Hollywood sign for the adult store across the street was untouched. “It’s the last thing I expected to happen.” (

It is quite interesting, noting that a giant Hustler Hollywood sign for an adult store did not get touched. This confirms my theory about the statue, though. I don’t believe that God would want so much money thrown away to a statue when there are millions of people in need of food, shelter, and medicine. I read somewhere else, and I’m not sure where, that maybe Jesus was tired of all the taunting and jokes made about the statue. As some of you know, its other nickname, besides, “Touchdown Jesus”, is “Big Butter Jesus”. Don’t ask me who came up with that one, I’m still wondering how it makes sense.

In a way I’m happy that this statue is gone. Maybe the church members took it as a sign to spend their money more wisely the next time around. In the next board meeting, when all the decision makers are sitting in their comfy chairs, and someone suggests, “Let’s rebuild Jesus!” I hope someone pipes up and gives them some new, more charitable options of what to do with their hundreds of thousands.

With the statue now gone, I’m wondering what you think.

June 15, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | 9 Comments

My First Sleeveless Shirt

If you’ve been keeping up with my blogs, you’ll have read “Too Much Skin!” In that blog I talk about making a change, a change that involves wearing sandals and sleeveless shirts. But, let’s be honest here, I was still not going to wear sleeveless shirts. Until that is, I was forced.

I played in a baseball tournament this past weekend and I decided to wear a big and heavy tee-shirt, originally designed for males. Don’t ask why I chose to wear this particular tee-shirt, perhaps it’s because I lack common sense. But, whatever the reason, there I was standing in the outfield sweating like the sun itself was out to kill me, or perhaps like a boy just hitting puberty. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take of this torture, so in between baseball games; I went out in search of a new shirt. I told myself that in these conditions only sleeveless would do. I searched store upon store, finding only indecent and immodest shirts. I was starting to feel overwhelmingly discouraged. I would have to suck it up and brave the sun once more in my thick cotton man shirt. As I walked into the fourth store though, I began to regain hope. There, displayed on the wall was the ideal shirt. The light was shining on it perfectly and angel choruses’ sang soprano in the background. Fate had woven this moment together and for a split second time itself stood still. I tried it on, checked myself out in the mirror, and proceeded to rip off its tags. I was going to walk out of the store with this shirt on, not caring what people thought of me.

Of course, as soon as I walked outside, the perfect moment inside the store had left me entirely, and the real world hit me hard. With my arms bare I felt as if all the whole human race had stopped everything it was doing only to gawk and gape at me. If there was ever a skank-o-rama, it was me. I hunched my back and sank my head low. I was now one of…them. The show-off-skin, and look-at-me crowd. I went back to the baseball diamonds expecting the worst. I waited for the inevitable laughter and unavoidable whispers behind my back. Yet, nothing. People looked at me, but in a different way; a nice way. If I didn’t know any better, it was as if I was being checked out.

Everything in me shifted then. I knew that I had officially changed and finally allowed myself to break free from such a constricting ideal. I could show skin and feel…beautiful. In fact, it was more than beauty I felt, it was freedom. I was liberated and confident. I had a pep to my step and self esteem on my side. Yes, this was a good day for me.

I even threw out the receipt; just so I wouldn’t be tempted to return it after this new feeling went away.

Of course, it would have been smart of me to keep the receipt anyways considering that after going through the dryer, it unravelled. Great…

June 7, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Grocery Shopping Greetings


Some people attribute grocery shopping to being “in the zone”. Others see grocery shopping as a chance to relax and get away from the hustle and bustle at home. There are still others who see it as a chore, a horrible boring chore.


Regardless of what people attribute grocery shopping to, there is one thing that most people would be unanimous on. Most grocery shoppers do not want to run into anyone they know when they are “in the zone”, or trying to relax. Let’s face it, it’s just plain awkward running into someone we know when we’re busy loading our carts with food.

Usually a simple, “hi” will not do when you run into a friend. It’s custom that each friend goes through the friend routine:

“Hey, how are you?”

“Good thanks, how about you?”

“I’m good, too.”

“Whatcha up to?”

“Oh just doing a little shopping”

“Whatcha buying?”

“Oh a little of this, a little of that…you know.”

 You just can’t skip this. This is extremely important. Your friendships already hang on dangling threads; grocery store small talk is absolutely essential.

The worst part about this encounter is that it isn’t over. You can’t just go about your shopping like you normally would. Nope, this person is stuck with you for the duration of your shopping trip. It ends up resembling a theme park line situation. Those people you see around you, the ones with bikini tops and short shorts, you’re stuck with them throughout the duration of your hour and a half line up. Then, to make matters worse, they’re the people you’ll be sharing the roller coaster with. That’s what it’s like in a grocery store. As you pass down the toilet paper isle comparing prices and sheet thickness, your friend is also passing down that same isle. Chances are you’ll exchange nervous laughter, and maybe a quick, “hey”. This is the point where you start to fear the worse; will this happen down every isle?

You start to walk slowly down the toilet paper isle, letting your friend get a head-start; maybe this will prevent you from having to see this person in every isle. Yet, just when you think you’ve come up with the most brilliant plan, you run into someone else you know. Perfect. You exchange the usual spiel, and continue on to the next isle. Who do you happen to run into? The same friend you were hoping to avoid. This time your exchange is more like a sneer and a growl. Tempers are running high and those relaxation methods you’ve learned over the internet are simply not working.

Because you’re human, and you can’t help it, you glance into your friend’s cart. You think one of two things:

1) “Hmm, she sure is buying a lot of junk food…has she gone off her diet?”

Or in paralysing fear you realize,

2) “Wow, look at those vegetables! I don’t even know what that one’s called! Who even buys those! WHAT IS GOING ON?!” 

You become super self-conscious because you know they’re doing the exact same thing. They’re eyeing down your cart probably thinking the worst. This is how your grocery shopping trip proceeds until you leave the store, only to watch your friend load up her groceries, while you shout a small, “see you later”. Of course in your head what you’re really shouting cannot be expressed in friendly words,

“You’ve ruined my shopping trip, you’ve judged me over my food choices, you’ve witnessed me buying toilet paper, and you buy stupid vegetables! How dare you, HOW DARE YOU!”

Of course, this anger subsides soon after, and your friendship is restored to its usual dangling thread state.

June 3, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | 6 Comments