The crazy co-worker, whose last day is Friday (he quit for like the 5th time), asked if I wanted to join something extra-curricular with him. We're discussing a softball team or something similar. Having always been picked last when attempting a sport, the notion that I suck is deeply rooted in my subconscious. However, lately I've begun wondering if I'm really that bad, or just believe I am. Maybe I wasn't good because I wasn't interested in being good?

I took a behavioral science class in school, and the instructor said something that stuck with me... "We tend to believe what we hear the loudest and most often." Hearing so many outright mean kids tell me how bad I was, has carved a near-permanent perception in my head. As an adult, with more confidence, maybe I wouldn't be the worst on the team... maybe my teammates wouldn't call me a faggot and tell me I make them lose (thanks, HLHS gym class). Joining a gay softball team, I figure the worst that could happen is a cat fight over a foul ball knocking over someone's mimosa. Or the drama of the uniform sleeves not fitting tight enough to show off one's triceps.

I finally tried out the new gym last night. I like it. It's populated with more of my kind and seems like a nice alternative way to meet friends.

From the gym I drove to Toys R Us. The place I go when I'm wanting to feel inspired, or young. I love seeing what the kids have these days... examining package design... new Lego sets, etc. I ended up buying a couple pretty cool light-up things for my desk.

The True Hollywood Story of Full House airs Sunday. You better believe I'm there.