I was a gigantic cranky pants yesterday, in case you didn’t notice. The boy IM’d me after I posted the blog about silliness in our relationship.
the boy: what!? Making up Neil Diamond lyrics about how much he loves his Bedazzler is not “silly” enough?? (This is true. He made up an entire song’s worth. I almost threw up I was laughing so hard.)
me: LOL. I forgot about that. You’re totally right. I’ll add an adendum.
the boy: I know that was certainly at the forefront of your mind, but it just wouldn’t fit with the tone of the post.
me: Oh right yeah that’s totally completely exactly what happened.
Apparently we’re silly all the time and I was just being dour and sour and generally 100 kinds of crotchety. Which is a funny word and makes me smile, because it simultaneously brings up mental images of old people and makes me think of crotch and how can you not laugh when you hear that word? Crotch. Ha.
I feel much better today though, because last night I had a complete failure of a derby practice and I adored every single second of it.
- We practiced falls. I am SUPER good at falls. If there was an MVF (most valuable faller) award for the newbies, I would totally win.
- We practiced skating backwards. I am super good at standing up on my skates while facing backwards (you know you’re facing backwards when you’re facing the opposite direction that everyone else is moving).
- We practiced stopping. I am super good at the stop that looks like the plow stop they teach three year old skiers. The other ones mostly involve skating backwards and not standing backwards, so I’ll have to grow into those.
I also got my mentor. Her name is Raven Lunachic and she didn’t smack me upside the head when I failed to skate backwards for the tenth straight minute in a row, which leads me to believe a) that she’s incredibly patient and b) that I would not make a good mentor because that would have been my instinct after about two minutes.
Basically, I love derby and I love silliness and I’m thinking that maybe I should just start staying at home under the covers on Thursdays. Fuck Thursdays, right? Can I get a hell yeah?