My Key to Happiness

Sometimes I just want to sock someone in the nose. I obviously mean this statement figuratively but sometimes I get so riled up over things so stupid. I don’t mean I’m a little b*!/h that cries over everything, but I feel that a lot of stupid stuff happens to me. These emotions that are evoked from my pissed off self may define who I am to some people, however to me the way I deal with said frustrations defines who I am. Sometimes I eat, other times I try to wack golf balls as hard as possible, but most importantly I “sweep it out the door”. This is my twist on the common phrase of “sweeping it under the rug,” however I changed it for myself. I feel that sweeping the dirt under the rug implies its kept there and can’t be erased or forgotten, however under my rug there is an endless pit. There’s nothing going on back there, its void, null. There is no backstage or backstage party, once I sweep it behind the curtain its gone. I simply forget my emotion and uneasiness, what better coping mechanism could there be? In retrospect this may be destructive and it is obviously stupid to neglect self reflection, but hey at least I’m happy.

Angry man screaming — Stock Photo © billiondigital #161276248

I don’t suck at looking cool while golfing though.

I’m really interested in golf clubs. Not new golf clubs, just random golf clubs. Obsolete technology, odd shapes, essentially the shit nobody wants. I’m not an old dude playing with anc collecting hickory (40’s) clubs because “this is how golf is supposed to be played”. I’m not one of the many high school golfers with a full new bag, to optimize performance. I like the 90’s and even some early 2000’s golf clubs. 

The only new club in my bag is my driver. I use a rusty blade putter from the 80’s, wedges from the 90’s, irons from before I was born, a novelty square fairway wood and a minuscule 5 wood that only serves to make me angry. My bag is like the closet of someone who only shops at a thrift store. 

Basically every other youth golfer or golfer period is interested in the newest clubs. These people also probably enjoy wearing dri-fit polos, cargo shorts, tennis racket belts. Nothing against these people, but I hate that type of attire. I typically wear t-shirts, shorts, and a visor or wide brim ‘aussie’ hat. I carry a bag without legs, old fashioned style, not because it makes golf easier, no no, all of the things I do make golf harder, i just like them *shrug emoji*.

I don’t really know what the point of this is, but I think appreciating old things and not always seeking the newest best thing is something that I think more people should try and do. 

Here are some retro golf clubs I think are really sick:

PC: Twirled Clubs: https://twirledclubs.com/

I suck at golf

I suck at golf. I used to be really good at golf. I started about two years ago and kept getting better. I didn’t have to practice to improve, I would just magically shave off a few strokes a month. Last summer, about one year into it, I found myself scoring in the low 80’s, so I figured hey if I’m just improving like this I should probably keep doing what I’m doing. 

Little did I know I was doing a whole lot of nothing. I was just going to play golf at courses, never going to the range or putting green to practice. This caught up to me when I returned to school this year to find out that I was no longer the best golfer on the team. 

I’m not necessarily mad at it, just annoyed that someone whose name rhymes with schmogan won’t shut the fuck up about the fact that he’s now better than me. To be honest I do probably deserve a taste of my own medicine as I did the same to him all last year.

I am probably gonna start practicing and trying to get better now that I feel the need to be better than schmogan. Sort of glad I have someone to push me to practice, a reason to actually focus on improving but also don’t know if I want to improve. The last time I played was just a club throwing demonstration so maybe I just need to be a little bit less of a baby.

Photo Credit: Total Pro Sports

Worst Person 30-Sergio Garcia

Had to make one about this guy.

Sergio and legend Tiger Woods have been fierce rivals for years. They don’t like each other, and there are few things more exciting than watching two of the world’s best square off in tournament after tournament. In the recent Player’s Championship, Tiger was victorious for yet another win on the season. No major wins yet, but he should get one soon.

Anyway, Tiger and Sergio were bickering at each other again because Sergio claims that Tiger warming up for a shot while he took his tee shot threw his concentration and resulted in a less than desirable lie for Sergio.

The Player’s Cup officials disagreed with Sergio and over the course of the week, Sergio has been making references to “fried chicken”, a popular racial slur towards African-Americans, and using the reference to belittle Tiger and his race.

Dude, just shut up and golf. If you suck, you suck. I used to root for Sergio if Tiger was having a bad week. Sergio is one of my favorite golfers. However, after some of his most recent antics, I can’t root for that. Before people give me a load of garbage about how I still promote Tiger after all his extra-marital affairs, I have one piece of defense. While cheating on a wife is wrong, I’d rather be a cheater than a racist.

I’m not sure when that picture was taken, but at least they are staying cordial and shaking hands. They still hold golf to the high standard that it was meant to be held.

Athletes Vs. Technicalities

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Sports were not always so complicated. Sports use to be simple, the best man/woman would win. Now-a-days virtually every sport is bogged down with rules and technicalities.

Just several weeks ago a technicality “controversy” made headlines. a female golfer by the name of  Caroline Inglis lost a title. The reason for losing her title, failing to fill out her scorecard correctly. She wrote a 68 on her card instead of the correct score of 69. Although she would have won without altering her score she was disqualified and forfeited the championship.

I find this extremely unfair to the athletes. An athlete should win if they are the best not lose because of arbitrary rules.
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What Holds Me Together

High above, amongst the stars,

God checked his watch,

and realized it was time.

Time to make a story,

my story,

mine.

He wove together a string of trinkets,

some rusty,

some silver,

some gold,

and some of precious stones.

Of those trinkets,

there were many places.

Houses and apartments,

studios

and condominiums.

Restaurants, schools, corners and alleys.

There was a bit of Mexico.

Koreatown, too.

Some wormy grass,

and golf courses where the deer roamed at night.

And of course,

tied closely to these homes,

was my mother’s cooking,

my father’s laughter,

my sister’s pranks.

And there were my fears.

My anxieties,

all intertwined with my passions,

my soul,

and whatever else that stirs me and moves me and lifts me..

My friends and enemies,

my lovers and ex-boyfriends.

Teachers, mentors, coaches, neighbors.

Mailmen, taxi drivers, pilots, a Marine.

There was much joy.

But,

there were also tears and hardship,

loneliness and strife.

Yelling and screaming,

punching and throwing.

The threads mangled and fried.

But soon enough,

God, with his knowing hands,

his fingers so gentle,

created a piece.

And those loose threads,

they all straighten out to create

one magnificent picture.

One that is unique.

One that is me.

mine.