When I was a kid, I did everything. In addition to being on the soccer, softball, basketball, and volleyball teams, I was also involved in tennis, piano, ballet, pointe,  jazz, tap, cheerleading, Girl Scouts, and art lessons. I guess the next logical step was to take golfing instructions.

In the summer before seventh grade, my best friend, Anne, and I signed up for lessons at the Grand Hotel in Point Clear. We were pretty excited because Anne lived on this golf course, and we already had a blast driving the golf cart around as fast and as often as we could.

When we arrived in her golf cart in style at our first lesson, we were slightly embarrassed to see that we knew another student there. He went to our school, Christ the King Catholic School, and he was going into the eighth grade. Plus, he was cute.

However, she and I never let his cuteness alter how we behaved — which was like idiots. We accidentally crashed into his golf cart during a chase, and Anne and I would make jokes to each other as the instructor gave his lesson. We would take terrible shots that barely flew fifty feet away from where we stood, and we would almost fall over snickering about it. Like I said, we acted like utter fools.

Yet, this guy — this cute guy — he still liked what he saw. When school started, I became the first girl in our class to date a boy from the grade above us.

I ran into that boy today on White Avenue while I was picking up a real estate sign for my mom. I looked…not good…as my nose was running from the cold and I had just scrunched up my hair. I talked to him. I talked to him without thought or carefulness. I guess it’s because I’m SO not ready to date anyone, but I was just being ridiculous and giggly and said strange things. His dog came outside, and I played with her and used my high-pitched dog voice when I spoke to her. Then, he asked me if I wanted to go out some time. WHAT? Yes, this happened. He asked me for my number. WHAT? Yes, this happened, too. I didn’t get it, but I should have gotten it a long time ago.

I guess what I’m saying is, maybe I would do better in my relationships if I didn’t try so hard. If I can just get into my “take me as I am or not at all” mentality that I so intelligently had when I was twelve. When did I start making it so hard on myself?