golf and other four letter words

So what is it about golf that sometimes makes me want to scream, "WHAT THE ****!!!"
Hmmm...could it be the fact that you have to hit a tiny little spec of a ball across a huge patch of grass about 300 yards long? Or maybe it's the idea of walking what feels like 800 miles through the Sahara desert with a bag the size of a small camel strapped to your back. While these both sound like very plausible reasons for my sudden want of a potty mouth, the answer is very simple. It is a four letter word that I have come to learn while playing golf.....DUCK! Yes, duck! Those cute, feathery, yellow-beaked little creatures that waddle around the golf course like they own the place. Quacking at me to get out of their way. Yup, ducks! The things that make my golf experience miserable. And it's not because of their fuzzy cuteness, but rather because of their constant attempts of suicide. Answer me this: Why is it that an animal that is so incredibly sloooooooww and overweight will be willing to put itself in front of a tee box where it knows that a ball will be flying straight at its fragile little head? The answer has surpassed me as I find it difficult to play a game of golf. Half of the time I'm debating whether or not to play the game or march around the green with a sign that says, "SAVE THE DUCKS!" Trust me, it is a very challenging experience. As I struggle to come up with a conclusion to this never ending battle of duckpression (duck depression) I can't help but be thankful for these overweight balls of fluff. You see I think God sometimes puts these little obstacles in our way to make us realize that we don't have to be in such a hurry. Life is so short and there is no need to rush through it. Besides, I'm not even too sure that there will be cute little waddling ducks in heaven so I better enjoy them now. So next time you go up to tee and you see a mama duck and her 20 yellow ducklings waddling behind her, instead of yelling "What the ****!" Why not just sit back and enjoy the view.

penis envy

I have learned that with most great things in life, comes some sort of setback. With shopping comes credit card debt, with pizza comes calories and with golf comes penis envy. Yes, I said it! PENIS ENVY! The number one killer of women in America. (Well, not really, but why not be dramatic). C'mon ladies let's face it at some point in our lives we will all suffer from it. You know there's been a time when you've seen a 200 pound man of muscle and bronze walking around and thought to yourself, "Why didn't God give me a body like that. With a brain like mine that body would be put to some good use!" Well, whether you've felt it or not I know I suffer from a horrible case of penis envy.
It all began early Wednesday morning as I tried to comprehend why the women's tee box was about 50 yards in front of the men's. "It's because ladies always come first," I tried to convince myself as I excused the real reasoning for this obvious display of overt masculinity. You see, as women our muscles and body types are severely different from men's (Thank God for that!), which in turn means that no matter what we try our abilities will never completely match to those of men. [Meaning that men, with all thier muscles, bronze, and glory hit balls harder and further.]
Although, my ball made it off the tee and landed a good 60 yards from where I was standing, the boys were able to hit their balls over my head and even a few feet in front of my ball. And although the guys were great sports, praising me with, "That was great! You hit your ball as far as we did." I couldn't help but respond with, "But that's only because I get to stand a freaking 50 yards in front of you guys!!"
As the game progessed, and I watched as the boys balls continued to fly over my head, the envy only grew greener.
I tried to figure out why the fourth group of guys following behind us had just impatiently asked to play through our hole when Kenny suddenly made it all the more clear.

Stranger and his son: You guys weren't in front of us. What happened to the group in front of us?
Kenny: We just let them play our hole because there were only four of them and they were going pretty fast.
Stranger and his son: Well, are you guys going to go fast?
Kenny: Well, there are three of us and plus we have a girl so we're going pretty slow.
Stranger and his son: Well, it's just me and my son so do you mind if we cut in front of you?
Kenny: No, it's fine. Go ahead.

While a part of me was thinking, "What a meanie," another part was saying, "Well, Kat, he's kinda right!! You are a girl and you are freaking slow!" Also I knew he didn't mean any harm, he was just simply stating the truth: I am a girl. I wasn't going to deny that I wanted to go slow and take my time. Plus, I didn't want to be deprived of my midget steps. I mean let's face it one of Lenny's steps is about four of mine. And let's not fail to mention the fact that as a girly girl I was suffering. I was sweating like a hyena, my make-up was beginning to drip and my "cute pink bag" was not so cute anymore as it felt like it weighed at least 100 pounds. And that's when it hit me, "MAN, I want a penis!!!" I want to be able to run around the course like a dumb brute with a million clubs in my bag and enough balls to conquer any lake. I want to be able to drive balls far enough to yell "FORE!" I want everyone to get off the fairway and out of my way whenever they see me approach the tee box. I want to be able to lift a golf cart over my head and throw it at my competitor....Okay, well maybe I'm exaggerating a little, but you get the point. I want to be able to play like the boys!
As the green penis envy monster grew inside of me I felt a pain in my stomach and I realized that either my envy had gotten way out of control or I was about to vomit all over the green. This is when it hit me that maybe the green penis envy monster may not have been a monster at all, but something much worse........PMS! Yup, the greatest monster of them all! As we finished up the game, I threw all of my stuff on the floor and made a quick run to the restroom where not only did I realize that I got my period, but I got my period ALL OVER my shorts. Oh, and it gets better: I didn't have a tampon! (And I wasn't about to ask the ranger for one.) I think Kenny understood what was going on when he quickly told us, "You guys wait here. I'll bring the car around." As we waited for the car, Lenny in all his sincerity says, "You know I can't really feel bad for you when you scored so well on this game." And in all my sincerity I told him, "Are you kidding me? I wish you were a woman!!" And soon my penis envy turned into a hope that Lenny would grow a vagina so that he could feel my pain.

Although this experience was rather painful, I can't help but look back at the whole experience and laugh. What the heck was I thinking? Why on earth would I ever want a penis, when I have a fully functioning vagina that, although at times malfunctions, makes me who I am: a woman...and not just any woman, but a woman golfer! Man am I blessed!!!


My score: 59

Ring, ring, ring

[Ring, ring, ring]
[Ring, ring, ring]
Kat: Hello?
Lenny: Kat, are you ready?!
Kat: No. I just woke up and it's 7 in the morning.
Lenny: Well, are you going to get ready?
Kat: Yeah, sure.
Lenny: Okay, I'll call you when I'm about to leave.
Kat: Okay, bye!

[Ring, ring, ring]
Kat: Hello.
Lenny: Are you ready?
Kat: No! You just woke me up five minutes ago.
Lenny: Will you be ready soon?
Kat: Yes, just give me 15 minutes. I'll be ready by the time you come to pick me up.
Lenny: I thought I was meeting you there.
Kat: I thought you were picking me up!

Ten minutes later
[Ring, ring, ring]
Kat: What do you want?!
Lenny: Are you ready yet because I'm already at the course. Do you want me to pick you up?
Kat: Well, it kinda defeats the purpose now that you're already at the course.
Lenny: Do you want me to pick you up.
Kat: Well, you've obviously already decided that you don't want to pick me up.
Lenny: Kat, do you want me to pick you up or not?!!
Kat: No, it's fine! I'll freaking drive myself!
[Hangs up phone]

1 minute later
[Ring, ring, ring]
Kat: Hello?!!!
Lenny: Do you want me to buy you balls?
Kat: I don't know? Do you think I should get balls?
Lenny: I don't know. Do you want them?
Kat: I don't know! You tell me!! Since you obviously know what you're doing!!!
Lenny: Do you want them or not?
Kat: I don't know!!! What do you think?
Lenny: I'm not going to get them since you obviously don't know anything.
Kat: Alright Lenny, I see how it is. That's fine. Just do whatever you want. BYE!
[Hangs up phone]

15 minutes later
[Ring, ring, ring]
Lenny: Hello?
Kat: How do I get there?
Lenny: Do you want me to pick you up?
Kat: NO! I'm already driving because you told me to drive myself over.
Lenny: Alright well take a right at 147 and a right on 67th.
Kat: Alright, thanks.

[Ring, ring. ring]
Lenny: Hello?
Kat: I'm lost.
Lenny: Did you take a right on 147?
Kat: Yes.
Lenny: And then a right on 67th?
Kat: Yes!
Lenny: Are you sure?
Kat: Yes, I'm sure. I'm not a retard.
Lenny: Well, I'm looking at the directions right now. Are you sure you took a right?
Kat: YES!!! I'm not stupid. I did exactly what I told you, but I'm lost by some weird high school! Whatever! I'll figure it out by!

[Ring, ring, ring]
Lenny: Hello?
Kat: I'm really lost! I don't know where I am!
Lenny: What street are you on?
Kat: Sunset
Lenny: Okay, okay hold on.
Kat: WHAT?!!
Kenny: Okay, hello Kat?
Kat: WHAT?!!! WHERE AM I SUPPOSED TO GO?!!!
Kenny: Hey, it's Kenny.
Kat: Oh, hey Kenny.
Kenny: Just go down until you reach the church and make a right and then make a left.

Five minutes later...I found the golf course. Thanks Kenny!
Sometimes having a boyfriend makes things a little complicated and a whole lot more confusing.

Wanna play like the boys?

Ladies, it's about time we got out there and show these boys they're not the only ones who can play golf and play it well.

Here are some tips for new women golfers:
1. Don't be afraid to be cute.
As women, we find joy in looking our best and in the world of golf there is plenty of room for cuteness. Have fun dressing up and putting together outfits. Golf attire has lots of variety and many many cute clothes to choose from. Don't limit your creativity. The more excited you are about dressing up, the more encouraged you will be to play the game.
2. Don't be afraid to play with the boys.
Although at times it may be intimidating, playing with the boys is a good lesson in golf. My first time playing a course I was playing against three guys. I was so scared I nearly cried. But after proving I was good enough to be there, the boys lightened up and even had some helpful tips. You'll gain respect and even some new golf mates.
3. Don't be afraid to embarrass yourself.
Although you will surrounded by people on the course and at the range, trust me know one is staring at you. No one even knows that you exist, because golf is such a personal experience, most people are not worried about what you, or anyone else, is doing. So don't be afraid to be goofy and let loose. Sometimes a little laughter (or a quiet giggle) will help to loosen you up so you can just have fun and focus on the game.
4. Always come with confidence.
One thing I've found is that if you show up to a course looking intimidated, people will treat you like a joke. They won't take you seriously until you have enough faith in yourself to not care what other people think. Always come knowing that you will try your best. If you have a good attitude and play hard, at the end of the game that is all that will matter.

Golf is a game of strategy. Find out what your best strategy is and use it to your advantage. You might just find that you can be better than the boys! :)

Ladies, move your breasts aside! It's time to play golf with the boys!

"Girls can't play golf with the boys" is a common misconception that many players have. Although women and men have different body types and muscle strengths, they are just as capable of excelling in a sport known for masculine domination as men are. Although we may have some set backs, such as breasts, long hair, and beautiful bodies (just thought that I'd add that in there), women can stand their ground on the course and I'm going to tell you how.

I have never hated my breasts until I started playing golf. I never realized how difficult swinging a golf club can be when you have two giant knockers in your way. My first time at the driving range I was so frustrated that I couldn't get my swing down that I was desperate for advice. So desperate that I took some advice from my boyfriend Lenny and while he had my best intentions at heart, he didn't know the last thing about having an extra 5-10 pound baggage attached to his chest. "Just squeeze them together between your arms," he said. "Ha! Easier said than done," I replied. I remember squeezing my breasts together so tightly I thought to myself, "This is what a mammogram must feel like." After about four seconds of squeezing I decided I better let go before I hurt myself. I sat down on a bench and began to think woe is me. Then I looked over at these heavy set men to my left and thought, "These men have bigger boobies than I do and they're hitting 150 yard drives! What the heck are they doing that I'm not?"
Well, turns out my poor boyfriend was wrong, and like I said before while he had good intentions, it was not his best advice. I quickly found that by bending your knees and arching your back forward just a degree more than you should, you are able to lift your arms in front of you to the point where they never even come in contact with your breasts. This also comes in handy for what I call the lazy hand, when your arms decide they are too tired to swing, you can just gently rest them on your bosom until your strength is fully restored. :) (My advice may be silly, but trust me it's helpful!) As you begin to play the sport more and make practice a daily habit you will come to find that breasts are definitely and asset and no longer a hindrance.

Introduction to the Search

When Lenny said, "Look at this cute pink golf bag I found for you!" I think the only thing I heard was cute pink bag! (Omitting the word golf completely.) Little did I know that when I agreed for him to buy it for me, I would be sucked into a life long commitment to the things inside of the "cute pink bag". Yes, of course, matching "cute pink" golf clubs.
"Golf can't be that bad," I tried to convince myself. It's simple really. All you have to do is hit a tiny white ball with a huge long stick about 100 yards away to a nearly invisible flag! Simple right?Hahahahahaha!
What the heck was I thinking? I remember stepping up to the driving range thinking to myself, "Is it too late to return the cute pink clubs? Maybe I can just keep the cute pink bag and start a fashion statement."
Looking back to this day I am still amazed that I was able to step over the fear that I felt about not being good enough. Stupid me had this crazy idea that being a woman made me somewhat inferior to the many men that are known to play golf (and play golf well). Little did I know, girls can be just as good as the guys, and sometimes better!
It was in this moment that I realized God put me here for a reason.
As a Christian I struggle with the idea of not belonging and not fitting in. I constantly ask myself, "Why would Jesus die for me? Something so small and insignificant. Why would he shed his blood for someone so undeserving?" I try to contemplate his reasoning for accepting me just the way I am. And more importantly I try to figure out why He would allow me the grace to be forgiven.
I was at a golf course, standing on the green, wearing a polo shirt, khakis, and tennis shoes, playing a game of golf with three men. If anybody knows me...they know this definitely is NOT me! I'm uncoordinated, slow, out of shape, the biggest klutz, and not to mention a complete girly girl. Why on earth would I be on a golf course? Somewhere I knew I did not belong.
I think at times, God places us in situations and places where we feel so out of place and so incredibly uncomfortable to show us that no matter how different we are.....we belong.
A concept I struggled with for a long time...belonging.
So as I stood on the green in silence I felt a sense of acceptance as I realized that I belonged. I belonged at the course, on the green, with boys, and most importantly...with God.