Hey y’all.
I’m back.
Again.
Only for real this time lol.
I’m been asking myself whether it was such a good idea to tell you all about the sexual harassment and the PTSD. I know the blog got real heavy real fast, so heavy that I didn’t even finish posting everything I wrote. Y’all have been waiting for the ending to the PTSD story for 3 years, and, believe me, I’ve thought about that a lot. Just not enough to get me to sit down at the computer and start writing again lol.
It’s been three whole years since I’ve told y’all anything about my life, and a lot’s happened. I promise I’ll post the end to the PTSD story, but I thought it was more important for me to get the ball rolling on A Southern Shortstop in Los Angeles 2.0, now that there’s definitely going to be a 2.0. I was considering changing the name to a Southern Shortstop in Pasadena, but I don’t think changing a title you’ve had for a long time is a good idea. And, besides: I don’t live in Pasadena anyway. I live in San Marino.
I obviously can’t bring y’all up to date about everything and everyone I used to enjoy telling you about. A lot can happen in three years, and, trust me, a lot has happened to everyone, not just me. There’s been some good stuff and some bad stuff, because that’s just how life works. It’s not a spoiler alert if I let y’all know that I got through the PTSD mess in one piece, although it never completely went away. With me, it kicks in when I feel someone’s pursuing me sexually. You probably remember that I never liked that feeling, but now I really hate it and it can make me seriously anxious. Like even panic attack anxious on one occasion when a woman at the Volcano one night wouldn’t take no for an answer and kept chasing me around the patio until I finally had to run out into the alley to get my shit together. But that was an extreme case, and it hasn’t happened again like that.
Even with that, though, I still feel like I’m me, and I’m basically okay again. I’m just a little older. I wasn’t too happy about turning 30, but now that my 34th birthday is less than two weeks away, I’m not minding it so much anymore. I don’t feel old, and people tell me I look younger than I am, so it doesn’t matter as much as I used to think it might. And, honestly, I kinda like looking back at some of the stupid shit I did in my 20s and thinking, dang, how could I have been that stupid? I especially didn’t always make the best choices when it came to women…and I’m not just thinking about the 30 chicks/30 days bet lol.
As for my life today, a lot is still the same as when you last had a chance to read about it. There are some important new characters in it, but I’m thinking maybe y’all want to hear about what’s happened to the people you know already in all this time. I can tell you that I’m still living in the Sharpmans’ pool house, I’m still on At Home with Maya, and I’m still taking care of the boys (and Gechitzik), although the boys aren’t exactly boys anymore. They were 11 and 9 when I first met them back in 2020. Even I have trouble believing that Jacob’s going to be turning 18 and is in his senior year, and Matteo’s already old enough to have his learner’s permit. Anyone wanna guess who’s teaching him to drive? Since I was responsible for teaching Jacob too I thought teaching Matteo would be easier, but he’s crazy nervous behind the wheel and that makes me crazy nervous. I’m teaching him to drive using the Prius Maya and Robert gave Jacob for his sixteenth birthday, which annoys Jacob a lot, but Maya and Robert didn’t want them using their cars, and the shitbox went to Car Heaven a year ago. One of the big stories from last year was that I was finally able to afford the Silverado I’ve been dreaming about for years, so now I’ve got presentable transportation and Keaton can’t give me shit anymore because of what I drive. It’s not just Keaton, though: turns out it’s a really good feeling to be proud of what you’re driving. I didn’t hate the shitbox – it got me around for a long time – but I like it more now that I’ve got the vehicle I’ve always wanted. I just wish that gas weren’t so dang expensive these days. It costs a whole lot less to make a Corolla go than it does a Silverado.
Although there have been some personnel changes, I’m still playing shortstop for both the Parrots and the Cervezeros once a week. Y’all probably won’t be too surprised to learn that Jacob’s become a first-rate varsity outfielder, and he’s played games with both my teams. So two of my teenage baseball pupils have turned out to be dang good ballplayers. I’m real proud of both Lucas and Jacob, and part of me is even starting to think that I might be pretty good at teaching the game I’ve loved and played nearly all my life.
Okay, not everyone I’ve coached has turned into a talented ballplayer. Matteo still hates sports. All sports. He even lost interest in keeping score at baseball games a few years ago, but that’s probably just part of growing up. Even though I realize I’m never gonna make a great athlete out of Matteo, I stayed true to Dad’s rule that he didn’t want any kid of his being picked last. So at least Matteo doesn’t get picked last. His attitude could be better where sports is concerned, but he’s a good swimmer and decent at pretty much everything else. He’s actually a better basketball player than I ever was, although that ain’t saying much. (33 trips around the sun haven’t fixed my nonexistent sense of rhythm, but they do mean that I’m less often in situations in which I’m expected to dance. And, if I’m at a party and a hot chick does ask me to dance, I finally came up with a smooth answer: “I like to get to know someone before I dance with them – so let’s go sit down over there where it’s quiet and we can be alone.” It may not work every time, but it’s way better than pretending I’m a Baptist lol.)
So far, I’ve mentioned a lot of the people I hope y’all still remember, but I haven’t mentioned Joyce yet. I reckon y’all are probably wondering about her. There’s a lot to tell, but – spoiler alert – we’re not together anymore. And you’ll probably be surprised when I explain why.
The story of how come me and Joyce aren’t together anymore is on the list of the individual posts I mean to write, since I’ve learned that writing down your goals helps you to achieve them. Of course, I’m starting to worry that I’m gonna get caught up in new events before I can catch you up on the old ones, including that big chunk of unpublished material that was supposed to have appeared 3 years ago. Dad told me not to waste something I worked on, and I reckon I do owe the world the end of that particular story. Maybe I just didn’t feel like myself to finish it up and get it posted while it was happening.
At least the ball’s rolling and I feel like I’m finally getting back to something I used to love doing. Although I don’t see him every week like I used to, I still go back to Dr. Oliver whenever I feel like I need some help, and he told me he thinks the blog has always been kinda like therapy for me, even way way back when I started off by writing about that fucked up Valentine’s Day with Monica. He’s been encouraging me to get back to it for a while, and I reckon I’ve finally gotten around to taking his advice. I’m not sure what made me sit down and start writing tonight, but, hey, I’ll take the win.
