Before and After

I might actually bawl when it's time to release these guys.

Except they are no longer helpless little babies. They are insane squirrels living in captivity so I actually can't wait. 

SO MANY EMOTIONS!!

Free time and masochism

Just returned from glorious Muskoka, having enjoyed a solid week of total peace and quiet. 

It occurred to me that I didn't take many pictures.  Fact is I never take pictures anymore.   I became slightly obsessed with training myself to enjoy the  moments rather than try to document them as they happen.  Now this is a pretty good policy to have, but fuck me, this past year and a half has been fucking awesome AND I HAVE SO LITTLE PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE!!!

The camera. Sigh.  I am unforgivably critical of every single picture I have of myself.  I die a little inside whenever I see a picture of myself.  The captured moment spoiled by the blight that is my muffin top, pimple, closed eyes and stupid expression. 

But no more!!  

I have decided that every single picture I see of myself I will view using hindsight.  There will be a time that no matter how bad the picture is, I will absolutely look back and be tickeled as I recall the past moments. 

 

Like this one!!

 

When I first saw this picture I almost lost my nut and wallowed in self misery that age was catching up with me and I had a double chin. Then I decided to look at this picture through the eyes of 80 year old me.  80 year old me sees a picture taken right after my very first jam in my very first game with one of the top Canadian home teams.  80 year old me thinks this is a pretty awesome picture of a rare moment where I was genuinely proud of myself. 

80 year old me is waaaaay nicer. 

Whoa boy

Today I bought a fanny pack because I've become so lazy that carrying a goddamned PURSE is too much work.


For realz

Old dog, old tricks.

Yesterday during scrimmage I clotheslined a vet in the throat, an egregious penalty.  And I'm not sure what's worse-that she was on my own team or that she didn't even budge.

The story I am about to tell is 100% true......

When I was 12 years old I auditioned for the school play.    In spite of my demand that I not be given a singing role I was cast as the esteemed Dr. Frankenstien, the lead role in the very complex stage performance of Monster Madness.   My concerns about my singing role were not unnoticed and the very reasonable "compromise" that I rap my solo was made.  

This is me at the time of this debacle. I was not a popular kid.  Likable, for sure, but open to extreme ridicule at any given time.  Not in any 6th grade social position to be rapping a song.

 Anyhoo....for 3 weeks I learned to rap that fucking song.  It was soul destroying.  It was terrible.   It was literally the worst three weeks of MY ENTIRE LIFE.    Finally, I could not take anymore.  The thought of me, an overweight white kid, on stage, wearing my Dad's suit and rapping was too much and I went with the lessor of the two evils and sang my little heart out.  Did I see my sisters laugh at me from the audience because my white gloves were too big?  Yup.  Did I rip an EPIC fart in front of Trevor Kroph before I went on stage?  You bet.   The point is, I did it and I lived.



And I have NO idea why derby often reminds me of my time as a solo singing stage performer.

All the likes!

I love derby and I really dig Montreal so  naturally I'm pretty fucking excited to be playing my very first derby tournament IN Montreal!

I'm still very much at that point where I don't have a goddamned clue what I'm doing.  I just look for my teammates and hold on tight.  I still hit my own jammer out and I depend 100% on what everyone else tells me.

It doesn't matter.

I'm pumped.

So pumped I bought these...

Cause yeah, chica bomb hot shorts.

so.many.feelings

It's a pretty good thing I didn't quit the derbs in one of my greatest moments of self defeat. If I HAD quit I never would have received the greatest emails of my LIFE (2 days later, I might add). An email that literally made me burst into tears.  An email I can not stop looking at.

You guessed it!  The email telling me that I was drafted to a home team.

I'm a TRAMP!!

The excitment and confusion  was quickly replaced with utter fear.   

Fear that I need headshots which means I have to face the camera.....and smile.  ugh

Fear that the derby name I have chosen, while AWESOME is one that my children may repeat to their teachers and may NOT provide further explanation.

Fear that I have to play in front of people.  This concern is only slightly eased with the knowledge that my first half dozen games or so will be out of town, out of Province, and thankfully, out of Canada.

Fear that I'm that much closer to breaking something.

When I'm not afraid I'm overwhelmed which leads the way to my most familiar of feelz-Inadequacy.    Many of my teammates are 6ft tall or over.  And they are fit as balls.   One can deadlift 300lbs.  They all know what they are doing on the track.  I'm a shorty who, despite her greatest effort is NOT fit as balls and can only deadlift 150lbs.  Also...how the fuck do you play roller derby?!?!

Having said all of these things I am also living with a feeling I am not all too familiar with.  I'm actually PROUD of myself. 

I never gave up.

 

I gave it my best. 

And it paid off.

Hrumph

I think it's time I break up with derby.  I'm tired and old and hurty and frustrated and can't think, for the life of me WHY I'm doing it.


If derby was a boyfriend I would tell myself to dump the everloving shit out of that unhealthy relationship and never look back.

Not only that, it takes time out of my real life.  Important time like crocheting this magnificent beast while watching hours of HD Vietnam war footage.

Ugh.  February can go suck a dick