Talk Derby to me.

I am not a victim of domestic abuse. I am a derby chick, much to the amusement of my doctor and her assistant this morning. They looked at my shins, glanced at each other and I immediately said,

"It's not what you think. I am in roller derby."

Throughout the entire visit I blathered on about . . . well . . . do I even need to tell you? They asked what my derby name was, where they can get tickets, etc. And when I winced in response to her telling me I needed a shot for the biopsy, she said,

"C'mon, it can't be worse than taking a hit, right?"

True.

As I was leaving the office the receptionist asked me if I was in derby (I am wearing my Derby Girls sweatshirt) and I stood there for another 5 minutes or so gushing, explaining that when I started derby I hadn't been on roller skates for about 13 years, told those ladies where to get tickets. PROMOTE PROMOTE PROMOTE.

I think I am in love. I must be.

That bruise is something to be proud of.

Alright. This is serious business. Last night at practice all the newbies (and those of us that are in-betweenies) had skills testing. I have to say, I did well at things I would do poorly and the things I expected to rock (STUPID HOPS!) I didn't get. At all.

Time to buckle down. And I know I have said it before, quit rolling your eyes. But, like I said, this is serious business. I was thisclose to passing one of my endurance tests (5 laps in one minute), I needed about 5 more seconds. And I got 20 laps in 5 minutes, which used to be the standard, but they changed it since I joined, so we will see if I pass or not. The jury is still out as to which rule I need to follow. I truly almost didn't make it through that five minutes. Derby stance the whole time . . . my back was screaming, my thighs were burning. I am so proud of myself for just finishing. Especially considering it was the very last thing we did at practice.

So after an hour and a half of taking hits, weaving through a pace line, practicing falls (let me tell 'ya that takes a lot out of you) I STILL got 20 laps in 5. Not ashamed or disappointed at all.

Rollin' with my homies.

Ergh! I want to skate. Something funky and unexplainable is going on with my right knee. Not the bruised one I mentioned earlier. I went out on Friday with a bunch of my friends. We tore up the dance floor. Saturday morning I couldn't straighten or bend my knee without pain. Not in the joint though, in the back of my knee.

So when I went to Skateland today during family skate I couldn't even move right. I am going to skate through it tomorrow. I don't really care. I will be absent NO MORE!

So much to do! Passport for the July bout, DUES!, entertainment e-mails, recruit DJ for May, halftime entertainment for May. YIKES!

Today made me really wish I had outdoor wheels and bearings. It was so nice out. No wind. Just find an empty parking lot and GO. I can NOT wait for summer.

Eat. Sleep. Drink. Skate.

Okay, so I don't do those four things in equal proportion.

But I am getting antsy. I am dreaming derby, talking derby all the time. Showing off my pathetic rink rash elbows but pretty darn fantastic bruised knee to ANYONE that will look, and even to people that don't give a hoot.

I google roller derby.

I asked one of my teammates to be my derby wife because I want one SO BAD. Don't get me wrong, I adore her . . . I just don't know if completely forgoing courtship is frowned upon :)

I breathe it, I preach it, I buy tickets for people. I talk about it CONSTANTLY.

and yet . . .

I am afraid to take whips and hits. I am afraid to block and pack skate. I am afraid of failing at something I want to do more than anything. This is the most I have EVER wanted ANYTHING. Unless you count how badly I wanted to marry Gavin Rossdale (Thanks a LOT Gwen!)

What really REALLY sold me is that when I told people about these worries . . . they push me. I told some of my teammates at practice that I was afraid to hurt someone in a jam (for my lack of experience) and they put me in the next one. I was afraid of blocking, they scooted me into a blocking drill.

These are my derby sisters. It may sound corny, but I have never been more proud of ANYTHING than this. I have never felt more like . . . a part of something, a teammate, an integral part of a group than this. I have, until now, been the type of person to stay down when I am knocked down and lick my wounds for far too long. Now I am doing the opposite. I do my best to get up as fast as I can, brush myself off, go again and tend to my wounds later. I am getting tougher. I can feel it.

Joining roller derby is probably the smartest thing I have ever done. Nah, THE smartest thing I have ever done.



Now I just need to get my ass to practice.

No rest for the wicked

The older I get the more attuned I am to others around me. I am, or used to be, a very oblivious person. I still am, to a certain degree. I would even venture to say "self-centered" although that is not always the case. I do what I can to take care and be aware of what is going on. But for the most part I tend to stay in my 'E-bubble'.

It's comfortable here. It's warm and cozy and quiet and relatively drama free.

Now that I have put myself out there with more people and I have started being true to myself there is more to . . . deal with. I can't just sit in the corner and fume about not getting my way. Now I have to face it. Now I have to be an adult about it.

Gone are the days when I could talk my way out of or into things. Now, more than ever I have to take what comes my way and just deal with it. There might not be an option for negotiations or second chances. And that truly sucks ass. I am learning to roll with the proverbial punches.

But what really angers me about being an adult is the times when I can't have my cake and eat it too. (An analogy that I never truly understood the orgination of . . . but I digress) Now I have to make decisions that I don't want to make. I can't run away, I have to face those facts of life. And I have to face them sometimes without the support or wisdom of any other person. Never before have I appreciated my mother more than I do now.

pffft . . . usually I am full of words . . . and right now I can't make them form coherant sentences.