I think I need a hobby

I tried to learning a language... Spanish didn't stick, neither did Italian.

I tried learning a sport... ice hockey bruised my spine, Zumba buggered up my knees, and netball made me feel old.

I tried learning a skill... I sewed a bag and enjoyed it until I nearly sewed my finger into my bag.

So maybe I should learn French?
Maybe Gymnastics?
Sign up for jewellery, sewing, bag classes?

I don't know. None of those were very inspiring... maybe the sewing was.

The thing is, after working eight hours a day, then having to drag my tired old ass to the gym, who would want to go to a night class?

However, I am going to sign up to a class anyway because I need some inspiration, something to encourage me.

Mmmmm sky diving?

Oooh maybe French cooking?

Or gardening? I probably need a garden and willingness to keep plants alive.

Need to think of something really good!

Fly gazelle, fly!

Team sports… it has never been my thing.

I don’t like being in a team.

I don’t like the cheering.

I don’t like the need for everyone to cheer each other on as they miss the hoop, goal, anything that requires a ball or object to be placed within.

I just don’t like it.

I actually even thanked my own mother for not having another daughter because I don’t like the idea of sharing my toys with another girl.

So you can imagine my dilemma, when a friend from work asked me this week to come along and help her out by joining her in a netball match.

The last time I played netball was over ten years ago (or was it 15?) and I quit because I got sick and tired of the bitches being all bitchy to one another. At one point my competitiveness got so bad that I became physical during games in order to win… like jabbing ones elbow into a competitor’s rib, tripping them, or even pulling on someone’s fake nail which was super glued to her original nail. I only used that method after half an hour of jibs and the bitch putting her knee into the back of my leg while jumping for the ball. That shits not on!

Alas my netball career had to end there and then.

I said goodbye and decided solo sports were for me.

Running, yoga, pilates, anything related to the gym; that’s where I belonged, not surrounded by 18 years old giving me shit and dirty looks.

So on Thursday, I showed up to my first netball match in ten years, only to be faced to one of the most competitive teams in the … what do you call them… league?

I reluctantly accepted the goal defence bib , took a deep breath and waited for the evil woman within me to come out.

It took one half before I was unleashed.

The little snot, whom I had been stalking the entire game, kept making comments under her breath and making me jump around like a gazelle … so I jabbed her.

This only after I apologised for stepping on her foot (and that was by accident, honestly) and her response was that I didn’t apologise quick enough or sincerely. So you can imagine my reaction to the 18 year old staring at me with disdain.

As I went to grab the ball, I ever so gently jabbed her with my elbow into her side so I can get the ball and throw it down to my team mate who eventually scored a goal... after my triumph, I turned around and was faced with a dirty stare from a little snot. I swear the 16 year old in me wanted to slap her. I politely smiled (or smirked) and walked away.

In reality, my “walking away” was in fact me clutching at my chest, trying desperately to breathe but I made my point.

I might be 30 years young but I can still take on a little snot.

What comes next?

Apparently when you turn 30 your private life is an open book to everyone.

Questions like, do you want to get married? Do you want to have kids? Is your inner clock ticking?

What the hell do I know!

Stop asking me!

Seriously, I don’t know, and why should I know the answers to these questions?

When did it become ok to ask someone these questions?

When did my life, my private life, become a topic of conversation? A conversation I didn’t start.

I don’t mind having those conversations but it has to be on my terms and when I want to talk about it, and honestly, I should be having those intimate conversations with people/person I want to have them with.

I didn’t realise that when you turn 30 that you need to be thinking about these things. Why? Who says that everyone must follow a Cinderella, Mills and Boons, Disney life? I certainly don’t go to magical balls, fall in love with rich businessmen or live with 7 dwarfs.  

I don’t know what comes next but I don’t want to know.

If it was all planned, nothing would be a surprise, I wouldn’t be in the position I am in today, and I wouldn’t be so happy that I catch myself smiling in the mirror.

Because if I did plan it would be a very boring and safe life… and I like pushing the boundaries; just a little bit each year as I blow out another candle.