Next Steps

The dust has barely settled from an exciting, exhausting long weekend in Milwaukee but I'm excited to be heading back to the trails - running with the High Heel Running Group.

I started running as part of my ACL recovery. I had actually started running before in early morning Chris Kirchoff's Early Morning Boot Camp but it always hurt my back and heels.  I was misdiagnosed with plantar fasciitis and it wasn't until I was in physical therapy that my therapist said that my problem was that I was a heel pounder - which is why my back and heels hurt so much.  Fixing my running became yet another issue that PT fixed - that tearing my ACL taught me. (It really was a blessing in disguise.)

I enjoy trail running for many of the same reasons I love derby.  Great camaraderie with a group of gals who all have different running experiences.  Some of them have been running their wholes lives and some just picked it up.  Even when you run the races, the terrain is a great equalizer - much like the wheels on your roller skates.   It's not a team sport but still has a great, supportive atmosphere.  It's also still very DYI.  There aren't big bank race sponsors with VIP tents and swag bags touting the latest race, headband, gear, running shoes.  There aren't thousands of people pounding the trails. Often its a race director that has a vision or an idea of a great run - maybe a run he or she does often on their own and they want to share the challenge.  You make the sandwiches you're going to eat at rest station. You run one race and volunteer the next. 

You race up the hill like a bunny, in the woods on a snowy day where you're sure that unicorns or gnomes will appear around the corner.  It's pretty magical.  And it's time to get back on the trails.  I'm starting back at 3 miles... Oof. I have a long way to go.

The Oatmeal - if he had to put a running sticker on his car - it would be this one.  If I put a race sticker on my car, it would be this one as well.

Starting here.

Bombers won the WFTDA Division 2 Championship!  And we brought home a medal that somehow validated all the work we've done since 2007 - and in WFTDA since 2009.  Sometimes our setbacks were within our control and sometimes they not.  But all the hard work paid off.  All of it.  And we won by one point.  And we won all of it.

It snowed on us in Milwaukee.  It was like the Midwest's way of saying "Welcome home Michelle! We miss you."  It's like putting on a forgotten, comfortable jacket in the back of the closet.  It miraculously fits perfectly and there's even a five dollar bill in the pocket, a pin from a rollerderby team you saw play in 2009 and an old lipstick..  

Tonight's practice was fun league scrimmage, blue v. white.  I went to the penalty box like I owned the seat and didn't want anyone else to sit in it.  I was also the most relaxed I've been in probably three month and just enjoyed scrimmage.  However, since rupturing my bursa sac in my right knee about 4 weeks ago (lots of swelling, need for acupuncture, compression socks and the like) I have developed an odd relationship with my body.  I absolutely don't trust my right side.  My habit of falling on my right knee - Zombie knee - since coming back from my broken right ankle has been exhausting, frustrating and now, this third injury, distrustful. It's done some interesting things for my waterfalling (recycling to the front of the pack of skaters), it's been great for my jumping even.  It's made me fearful.  Not of falling down again.  But of my body failing to do what I asked of it.  We don't trust each other right now.   It's a weird spot to be in and it's even more strange to know you're there.

Snowpocalypse Now

The Snowpocalypse is the record amount of snow we may or may not get as predicted by meteorologist all from every news source, including the cable news, weather blogs and NOAA.   This usually happens at least once a year.  The dire prediction starts out with record something - wind, rain, snow-turning-into-rain-into-ice, snow, wind.  Classes get canceled.  People are required to chain up or avoid the mountain passes all together.  Seattleites and Western Washingtonians race to grocery stores to stock up on food, water, booze and fuel. Within hours of the initial announcement of the doom, the forecast is "adjust" and it's not 24 inches of snow anymore but 18" - still scary - still going to turn Denny into a bobsled chute - still going to close Queen Anne Hill.  People are still going to attempt to drive up these hills and come crashing down.  Every single year.  Twelve hours after the first alarm is sounded, the forecast has been reduced even more still.  Now you might have snow.  You may not.  You maybe be asked to stay off the roads - you may be given the go-ahead.

It wears you out.

The whole day my office anxiously anticipated the snowflakes.  I mean who doesn't want a day at home from work (like school!)  Who doesn't want to hang out in their house and "work" - while in sweat pants and a kitty on your lap?  So a flake would fall.  We would get all excited - this would lead to other exciting conversation.  Then the snow would stop.  Then we would be disappointed.  This cycle of expectations would go on and on.  Wash.  Rinse.  Repeat.  Snowflake.  Will there be more?  Should we head to the bus?  Oh the sun came out. 

I finally decided shortly after lunch that for my sanity and the sanity of my other coworkers I would find a very special Zen place and re-the-fucking-lax about the snow.  It wasn't happening - at least not in Seattle.  And even if it did happen, there wouldn't be enough snow for me NOT to go to work.  And you know, as soon as I went there - I stopped worrying about it and actually had a very productive and nice rest of the day. 

I would still love to wake up to SNOWPOCALYPSE.  But I'm not holding my breath (though my fingers are still crossed.)

My comeback at the start of Season Five...

"You are absolutely brilliant! I am in awe of your prowess and I'm so glad to see you back at better than 100%" one of my teammates texted me at the end of Jet City Rollergirls Season 5 opener this weekend.   I was thrilled by my performance in my first regular season bout since 2010.  Though I had been back form my ACL injury for 6 months, I was missing my confidence and strength. My decision to not skate for the travel team at this time (due to work) gave me another opportunity to just focus on my recovery.  I had so much to prove this weekend - to myself.  And to my team.  2011 was not my ending - was not the one I had scripted for myself.  I learned an incredible amount watching from the sidelines and I was out to prove that I was still a force to be reckoned with.  

The starts of Season 5 was much like the start of every other season.  There were a few missteps in getting things rolling as we tried to remember how things were done the year before when we rolled up the floor for the last time in June.  While volunteers and skaters busied themselves getting the floor set up, I hung up sponsor posters, set up tables, helped Ivana with ticketing.   Just as we were finishing laying out the floor, the cold rain that had accompanied us up to Everett turned to fat snowflakes blanketing just about everyone and everything.  Then doubt started sinking in.  We were there.  We would make sure derby happened but would our fans come?  Would we filled the seats?  Would we kick of Season 5 with as much energy and enthusiasm as we did with Season 4?  In the snow novice Pacific Northwest, weather like this creates panic.  We texted; we Facebooked; we let everyone know that we would be there to skate and they should join us.

And they did!  We had a great crowd for our two bouts which were absolute nailbiters!  The Pistols and Harem bout came down to the wire as did the Carnie and Hula bout.  A local derby writer, who has seen more bouts than just about anyone I can think of, said these may have been his favorite bouts ever.   It was "epic" - truly.  The Carnies were down by a few points at the half and dipped down to a twenty point deficit.  The time outs were called at the right times.  We kept a cool bench for the most part.  At half time we made some changes.  What we needed to do to break up their walls and force on offense.  (I had mostly jammed to this point and would throughout the second half.  And though I wasn't always lead jammer - I always got out of the pack (thanks blockers) and was able to force the jammer to call it off.  And in spite of my injury, I was able to retain my characteristic stable jamming - I just didn't get knocked down that often.  I managed to pull off an amazing whip off our smallest blocker and sailed through on one foot.  It was awesome.)

At one point, Audrey threw away the line ups and made up two killer lineups that pulled us into the lead - barely.  But when it came down to the last jam we were in a bind that we hadn't been in a long time - we had only two skaters on the track - the jammer and one blocker.  Three blockers in the box - with one coming.  A gaggle of small errors lead us to this point and our goose was cooked as our jammer went to the box doing her best to stop the opposing jammer.  I lost my cool for a minute - I forgot how much I hated to lose - especially after working this hard as a team.  And though it stung - it wasn't as bad as it was in years past.  We were in a positive place. Our mistakes were recognizable.  We were close and cohesive.  The crazy chair was minimally occupied.  I got mad.  Got over it and skated our high-fives.  It felt so incredible to be back.

*punk rocker snowman with snow bunny in my neighborhood.  He is what greeted us when we aborted our plans to go to Columbia City for brunch with Arson.  We settled for yummy breakfast on Phinney with punk rockers.

.

Rawr!

Pow!  2012 has come in like the roaring dragon that it promises to be this Chinese New Year.  Earlier this week Governor Gregoire announced her support for marriage equality and today there was a press conference were a handful of representatives and other community members announce the Reproductive Parity Act and their support for it.  Many months at the end of 2011 were spent building up to these moments.  It's exciting, exilerating and completely exhausting.  And this is only week one.
 
(Picture of the full moon tonight - like a little present for getting through the week.)

Believing again and again...

Tonight's scrimmage was not the Carnies' most shining moment.  It wasn't the worst we've been either - not by a long shot.  We all left the floor still liking each other, not nearly frustrated enough but a little bit clueless about what to do.  It was also the first time we had all been together since break.  I raced home to find this quote and repost it to my team - because I believe it.  Because I believe if you try hard enough, with the right spirit and strength - you can not lose.

"In the end, it's extra effort that separates a winner from second place. But winning takes a lot more that that, too. It starts with complete command of the fundamentals. Then it takes desire, determination, discipline, and self-sacrifice. And finally, it takes a great deal of love, fairness and respect for your fellow man. Put all these together, and even if you don't win, how can you lose?"- Jesse Owens

I play for the the league's least winning team.  I play but I keep coming back. I keep coming back because in spite of the crazy, the frustration, the losses, our team spirit is very strong.  We actually like each other.  We respect each other.  We care for each other.  And that makes you want to come back.  We may need to push each other a bit more (and some of us may need to look in the mirror before we throw that stone at that glass house) but the spirit is just right on that team.
And that's what keeps me coming back.

I have faith that we will get it together in the next week to put on a great game and give the Hulas a run for their money.  I also found my rose colored glasses.  (I hope they still fit, they've been misplaced for a while.)

Today

 

Today:

• worked on Marriage Equality in Washington
• prepared for a press conference for Sunday
• thanked supporters
• planned a house party
• had a beer - or two

Whooped.



KA-POW!

I'm the pony.  The dinosaurs are 2012.  If I stand real still no one will notice... (except maybe the giraffe.)

And we're off...


(*thanks to 2 year old Benny - who presented me with such a image.)

New Year's Resolutions

I'm not one to make New Year's Resolutions. I made typically impossible ones in the past.  Save more money (like how much more?  $50? $500?  $5,000.)  Lose weight. (I don't know that I've ever really thought that but most people did so it seemed like a good one for the non conformist to follow.) Write more (ahh, but the muscle is so weak!)  Date more (why?)  Fight for peace in the Middle East (not exactly sure how.)  Workout more (how can I do this when I'm doing 10,000 other things.) Travel more (yes!  Agree!)  Etc.  And most of them were forgotten in about a week or two.  I'm a person of action - if I need to make a resolution to change something in my life then what I really need to do is change something in my life.  Not make a resolution.  And that's where resolutions fail me.

However, I am a big fan of "if you say it out loud you make true" (so then you have to do.)  "I will write more in 2012."  I said it out loud.  Just now.  I also wrote it on my friend Christopher's Facebook page (or I agreed to his status about writing more and said I want to do that too.)  I told others - most of them in my head - that I would write more. 

But it's more than just writing more.  I want to take my creative self - who I have locked in a box, shoved in the corner of the closet, piled coats and sweaters upon and bolted the closet door shut - out again and invite her to get involved again.  I use to get so crabby when I didn't do anything creative.  My close friends could tell I just needed to dance - write - sew - paint - bake - create something - anything.  And then I would be happy - and whole.  But eventually, I started to ignore her. It wasn't easy at first but then it became something I didn't have time for.  Something I could push aside.  Something I couldn't justify spending time doing anyway. Something that wasn't as important as x, y or z.  (I mean there were rights to be fought for!  There were people who needed my help!  There were countries imploding!)  And eventually she went away.  I would let her out when I needed something for someone else - like to make ornaments for my team.  Or to sew helmet covers for the league.  Or to edit someone else's writing.  But never just for me.

There were multiple epiphanies this year.  One of them was at a sing along for Hedwig and the Angry Inch put on by the Seattle International Film Festival - which is a fantastic play/movie about many things but discovering your other half and becoming a whole person is part of it. I spent nearly the whole event in near tears (and not very good company.)   I told a friend about this - about this need to be with my creative self and she said "but Michelle, I mean isn't this a phase - don't we outgrow this?"  No.  It's not.  Why would you lock half of yourself in the closet - in a box - and pile coats on top of her?

So I'm working on letting her out of her box and inviting her to hang out more often.  It's likely not going to be easy at first.  I doubt we trust each other that much.  There is much work to do (and we both need to spend more time a the gym or the bar) but I'm going to try.  Because honestly it's more than just about writing and being creative.  It's about being whole.  And that's my New Year's Resolution.

Welcoming in 2012!

Today Arson and I did the 5k Resolution Run which ends in a polar bear plunge - or more of a swim - which is what polar bears on more apt to do anyway.  There were many more people there this year than last year (according to the announcer) and the beautiful sunny day - in the 40's - made for a great run and little swim.   Last year, Arson and I started running one 5k a month just for fun and I've truly enjoyed them.  (And I'm not so sure that it's the running as much as I really do enjoy getting dressed up and running with friends.)  She's been a great running buddy especially in races that involve an extra dare - like the Warrior Dash (5k mud run through an obstacle course) or this.  When we reach that moment of extra challenge and I often find her reaching out her hand - a "let's do this together" kind a gesture that gives you confidence to push through - whatever it is - jumping over fire or jumping into freezing water.  And I appreciate that about her.  She often says she would never imagine herself doing these things years ago.  But I kind of think she's just the kind of person whose perfect to do just these kinds of thing.

Happy New Year.  I'm can't wait to get started! 

Beginning again... with grief.

Today was a perfect day to start my blog back up.  Today was spent catching up with a few friends who don't use Facebook. - which in itself isn't bad.  Their own claims of being poor communicators (which isn't something they're particularly proud of)  compounds it a bit and makes calls like these wonderful.  Poupee asked, as I talked about what a struggle 2011 had been, if I was writing. And I truthfully said "no."  Sandra, who knew me when I was a "writer" and had big dreams of being a "playwright" said that we are not people who shouldn't be writing.  I told her that I had kept a blog for years and had every intention to get it started again.  After the new year?  No.  Today.  Right now.  And so here goes.

Today, though, is a particularly hard day to come back to writing.  The last time I wrote in my blog I was grieving for my older brother's best friend - Dave - who had died suddenly.  At the time we thought he had been murdered though it was eventually ruled a suicide.  This event was a the first in a chain of tragedies - Kathy lost her brother.  Audrey's daughter was diagnosed with cancer.  And that was just the start. 

Yesterday, on Christmas, a leaguemate was driving with her family to visit their grandparents for the holiday when a large branch was blown down onto their car in a freak accident.   Her daughter was killed instantly and her husband suffered a broken neck.  The pain of knowing that a friend has lost a child is intense.  Heartache is truly given meaning in this situation. It's almost as if you can't catch your breath - a knot forms in your throat and you find yourself staring out into nothing.  You think of her.  You think of her kids.  You think of what she is doing or not doing.  You can't imagine her pain.  You can't imagine not seeing this child grow up to become an adult.  And you feel helpless.

And that is just your personal grief.  Then, in this modern, digital, social media world you watch other people grieve.  Those who were close to her: her family, her teammates (in this case), her island community are in this incredible and intense pain.  Some people own their grief.  Some own other's grief.  You see these heart wrenching posts and out pourings of support.  You see stories shared and glimmers of hope start to appear.  Then this amazing derby community pulls together to support this skater and her family.   You see their posts.  You see their offers of love and support.  You see the holiday spirit - compounding this incredible tragedy - push generously and sympathy into the spotlight - sharing it with this grief. You feel amazed and blessed to be a part of this. And your heart still aches for her...

I don't want to be a member.

During my healing at home, I watched the Harry Potter films. I hadn't been a fan of the films but if you saw them in order, all together, they held up on their own. There was one point where Harry and Luna can see these characters/monsters pull the carriages. Only those two can see them because, as we later find out, it's because they've witnessed a death. I have a coworker who was also knew someone that was murdered. And I just wonder are we now part of some club ? - because it's a pretty horrible thing to experience. It is really like nothing else. And I don't want to be a member.

Tonight I went to The Angel Band's CD release party. The Angel Band was formed out of an outpouring of love and hope over the death of a women who, along with her partner, was sexually assaulted and then murdered. My coworker was musical partners with the survivor. It was a completely emotional evening for everyone involved. There was a moment however, when women who died, when her brother's video came up and he performed his song. It was heart breaking... And I all I could think of was Dave.

A few days after my surgery I got a call from both my mother and older brother within a few minutes of each other. That was odd, so I hung up with whom I was talking to and called them back. I called my mom first and she told me that Dave, Mark's best friend for 22 years, had been found dead. They thought it was a suicide. I called Mark and he repeated the same thing though he seemed skeptical of it. I called my younger brother Mike to see if he was going down to help Mark out (he was really good friends with Dave too - as brothers often are) and if there was any thing I could do to help out. By the end of the day, Dave's suicide had turned into a murder investigation.

The CSI nature of Dave's death makes it almost unbelievable - death threats, police involvement, wire tapped phones. No one arrested but plenty of suspects. Ridiculous. And ridiculous to believe that he was gone. Just like that. Snuffed out.

Losing Dave has a profound effect on me - more than I ever imagined. A part of the pain was just imagining what my older brother was going through losing his best friend - his foil - his compliment - the guy who had known him through thick and thin and still loved him.

Some of the pain was the hole that he left in the world. Dave got to know everyone - everyone. He took time to get to know some of Margie's more interesting family members. He would get to know them of course to tease them. But never out of malice - only out of fun. He didn't drink and was was always a good sport at any game, any conversation, and Johnson argument. We He loved the Johnson girls and had just taken them trick-or-treating. He was part of the family. He was always at Mark's house. He was like a third brother - who didn't have the same childhood experiences or baggage - but totally understood. And now he was gone. Absolutely gone. And I couldn't imagine it. I couldn't imagine being Mark. I couldn't imagine he was gone. And it was ridiculous.

Mike summed it up best in a posting on Dave's Facebook page: The world will not be the same without you dude. I remember first meeting you visiting Mark @ Miami. It has been a pleasure ever since. I wish I had the friend/wingman/DD/take one for the team/re-tell all my embarrassing stories in great detail friend that you were to my brother. You touched so many lives and you will live on thru us, our stories and the smiles you put on our hearts. Rest in Peace my friend.

Learning lessons

All I could think was, one more person, I just have to pass one more person and then I'll have lead jammer. (We weren't winning - not by a long shot. But it was the last 3 minutes - I had actually managed to score a bunch of points in this bout. I was an obvious target.) I passed the pack on the outside with a safe wall of Bombers on my left side. I cleared the pack and was heading to the inside line (ultimate safety) but there was one more out there. I could see her in my periphery and she landed a solid hip hit square on my thigh. My upper body flew nut my lower body did not follow, and I felt something completely unnatural happen in my knee. I knew I was hurt - really hurt. I didn't even try to stop my slide into the wall. I looked up at the outside pack ref heading my way - it was Hangin' Chad. And I said, rather loudly, "I'm NOT OK." Then I looked down at my knee and started saying "Oh My God, Oh My God" over and over. I was devastated. I am so hurt. I was thinking of the rest of the tournament; I was thinking of next season; I was thinking of all my goals for next year; I was thinking of the Bombers and how hard we worked and the great stuff we had planned for 2011. And it felt like it was all slipping away. Someone turned off the music and I could hear someone crying. I was wondering whose crying? I'm the one that is hurt. Oh, that would be me.

The rest of the tournament was a blur. I got crutches, I had two beers. I managed to fly back to Seattle for my work auction on Saturday morning and fly back for the rest of the tournament Sunday morning (yes, nuts, I know.) I finally had an appointment with a specialist and got an MRI within the first week back. My knee was tight - the orthopaedic physician didn't think it was my ACL was torn. And I celebrated for a day. But it was torn - snapped in half. Physical therapy was scheduled and my new life between crutches, work, surgery and pain meds was underway.

The moment I was wheeled off the skate floor, my Bomber dilemma started. What would be my role? I kept asking. I didn't want to be a broken skater on a team with Regional and Championship aspirations. That wasn't what we needed. We needed 20 strong skaters to take our team to the next level. But would the team vote in a non-rostered captain? Would they even want me as a captain at all? Or would I bench coach? Could I bench coach? I didn't know what to do. Nikki and I were very good captains - a good balance. We did a lot of things really well and learned from our mistakes and I thought we could carry these lessons and positive energy forward into the next year.

I started talking to my teammates about my dilemma. A few totally agreed. "We need a strong team. You're right. You should let someone else take your spot." Others said, "We need you on the team. When other skaters got hurt, you didn't kick them off. Torture, you're not being fair to Torture." The answer wasn't clear cut. It wasn't easy.

When I filled out the questionnaire for the coaches - that is when I figured it out. "What would you bring to this team?" It took me only a second to think about; I would bring leadership, feedback, positive attitude and energy. I would be give 100% and more - even not on skates. And then the league gave me a vote of confidence - even injured. The coaches told me it was my decision - they wanted me on the team and the league did. But it was my decision - I was the one who didn't know what I should do.

I said I DID want to stay on the team. I learned. It takes all kinds of athletes to make up this team - serious ones, total goofballs, enthusiastic one, leaders, trouble makers, all kinds. And I know this. I say this to other skaters all of the time - that they have a role on this team. But I finally feel like I've learned it.

Crazy, Crazy, Insane...

I like to agree with people's statements that "you're crazy" but even I can surprise myself sometimes. I signed up this morning for a "boot camp" - early morning workout - at Golden Gardens not too far from where I live. My friend Bess has been going to these camps put on by Chris Kirchoff (Kirchoff Fitness) since I've known her. CB - another teammate - has joined her in the insanity about 6 months ago and Teeny joined this boot camp. And this morning I caved. Why is it insane? Because it's at 5:30 a.m. - as in the morning - as in - I-am-usually-just-going-to-bed-at-1 a.m.-how-can-I-possibly-get-up-that-soon-and-survive-yet-alone-work-a-full-day.

Seriously. I've done a lot of nutty things. But this one takes the cake.

(However - it fits in with my theme for 2010 - click below).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUc_frpY26U

Toilet, cats, and the need for seat belts....

I ended a long week away from Seattle by dropping my cell phone in the toilet on a bright Sunday morning (it flipped out of my shallow back pocket) - my hand dove in after it but alas, even with a 5 hour stint in a rice bag and a bit of blow drying - it couldn't be saved (and because I knew that, carelessly tossed it in my bag and lost it. Ooops.) It was a discombobulating way to end a week of vacation that could have been just as good without it.

The vacation started with the Brewhaha in Milwaukee - a derby tournament. We had a scrimmage (unsanctioned bout) against Philly Rollergirls and pulled away to a substantial win. It was also a bout for our "b" skaters on our Bombers - those who don't always make it on the 14 person roster. Our bout against Arch Rival was fantastic. We were down by 30 points at the half when at half time, we asked what needed to be done - this bout is not lost - made those adjustments and came back to win by more than 70 points. We rocked the after party together. Our Sunday bout fizzled as the team we were suppose to play sustained too many injuries and they forfeited - we tried to get another team to fill the slot and it just didn't work out. (Having spent a lot of time trying to find a replacement and herding more cats, I was exhausted by this weekend but at the same time, I had a great weekend - especially once I decided that we didn't have control of the weekend.) It was a great bonding weekend...and we rocked the after party.

My week was peppered with many great visits - chalk drawing on the driveway with the girls, swimming at the Y with them, drinking beers with a few select friends, a walk with my dad, a great chat with my brother, hanging out with my mother. And the week was also peppered with many fantastic conversations with my parents, brother and the few friends I got to see. Conversations with girlfriends about their kids and sports; about midlife crisis (perceived or real); about depression and dissatisfaction; about change; with my brother about his new business; about goals and risks and other things we can do; with my parents about life, the environment, politics and other stuff. I asked my dad what he thought about the environment movement - about climate change (we had been having many conversations about it) and our need to do something about it. He likened climate change to seat belts. You may never be in a situation where you need a seat belt to save your life, however, the moment that you realize you do, it will be too late... Awesome.

Inspired...

This last week in Washington, DC was completely inspiring... I took a break from work, from derby, from email (answered just the few necessary) and focused on things so much bigger - like where we are in trying to find an HIV vaccine - it was inspiring and humbling. It asked me often if I was doing what I should be doing... and I think it's time to make some changes.

I can't wait!

Killer Nap...

I came home with the intention of going out for a run (bleh) or for a swim (woot!) and trying to keep up with my "workouteverydaytomakemyselfastrongerskater". Instead, I laid down for a 20 minute nap and woke up an hour later completely confused (thinking it was morning or a day later). Clearly I needed the rest... and the sweet potato fries and Steelhead salmon that I made. It was a nice night to stay in and rest. Sometimes you forget that's the most important thing.

Sleep.

Fearless...

Two weeks ago at a league meeting, right after the Wild West Showdown, I told this story:

So we were warming up and we would pass the Jet City Rollergirl's "Bomb Squad" and hear "yeahhh!" and then we hit the other corner and hear "booooo". My first thought was "who the fuck boos anyone?" And then I figured it out. There was a "B" team of a high ranking league who the Bombers had beaten and suddenly we were enemies with their "A" team. I was baffled until I realized that most of the "B" team was now the "A" team and they were the ones booing us. (Once again. Who the fuck boos anyone?)

Right at half time, the Philly Rollergirls showed up and they sat down (unintentionally) in front of this team who were booing us and they were like "this is a great game." Some fans told them how Jet City fought a 30+ point deficit and were ahead by 2 points at the half. Suddenly - when we skated by - it was "YEEAAHHHH (Bomb Squad)...YEAAAAHHHH (Philly)". They out cheered this other team.

And it was awesome.

Tonight someone booed a league mate- which we don't do. Jet City Rollergirls do not boo refs, opposing skaters, visiting fans, other teammates - ever. We certainly don't allow teammates to boo; we don't allow fans to boo refs; we don't allow fans to boo anyone. But somehow it happened. It happened to a skater who worked her ass off to get through a line up of Nikki, Molly, Fuzz, Jude ... any skater who takes a lickin' and gets up and fights all over again deserves nothing but cheers and applause and constant encouragement... I love your effort. I love your tenacity. And even if you beat me you deserve my respect.

But someone booed a skater tonight. And my heart is broken for that skater. I'm also so angry at this fan who thought they had the right to boo anyone. Strap on a pair of skates and try to get around Nikki, avoid a hit from Trixxie, get around Cia, take on Dixie and Luna, stare Retro in the face. If you can do all of that - you are fearless - but you didn't. But someone else did. And she deserves my respect.

Teeth, Easter Candy, little crabs...

It's rare that I says things like "I love my dentist! They're all great - I have an amazing hygienist who taught me all about my teeth." But it's true. Last week my hygienist taught me all about my teeth, why we floss, what we're actually trying to accomplished when we brush, why we get lazy towards the back of our mouths, all the science behind bacteria, decay, etc. I told her, with tools in my mouth, garbled, "I wish someone had told me all of this in high school." And she responded to my sentiment like I wanted to blame someone or something for my lack of knowledge, "You probably wouldn't have listened then." And this week, something has happened that has never happened in my whole life - I've flossed every single day. I just might yet become a habit.

Of course, now is a good time to start better dental habits as Easter Candy is out and I just LOVE Easter Candy. It's really the only time that chocolate tops gummy worms in my sweet tooth craving (that is generally pretty tame.) I love the chocolate eggs with a candy shell. I enjoy malt ball eggs and peanut butter eggs. Kisses somehow make it into my mouth and they're at the bottom of the candy scale. And I don't even enjoy this candy any other time or even at Halloween when it's just as ubiquitous! I honest think it has something to do with spring and all the fuzzy little chicks, cute little bunnies and lavender wrappers that make it taste so much better.

The only thing better than Easter Candy in the spring with newly flossed teeth is the little crab, we who met over Thanksgiving. He's going to be my next tattoo. I've wanted a little crab, the most wonderful reluctant creatures to find under rock, for a while. And I just found this perfect photo of him... now I just need to find a place where he won't be hiding...

Oh Little Sleepy boy...

Last week Pygmy had a little baby boy Benjamin Henry. His middle name comes from Jon's very close family friend for whom he was always doing computer work for and hanging out with on the weekend. Often times, Pygmy and I would gather on Sunday and go for a walk around Greenlake because Jon was "helping Hank (Henry)." Hank died last year. Benjamin came for a conversation Heidi had with Jon. She liked the name but wasn't sure that Jon did because he had so many friends named Benjamin. But it stuck - the day before he was born.

When I was in Philly this past fall, I was walking thru the Ben Franklin Cemetery. I texted Heidi all of the first names in the cemetery as I walked past them (to give her boy name ideas - she was struggling) - basically all of the "founding fathers" of the country ... Benjamin, John, Caleb, William, Samuel, Franklin, Adam, Jon and... repeat. She made a joke about that. About how he's name after Ben Franklin, about sending her texts from the cemetery... but really, he's name after other great Benjamins... who are all friends. Those are the best kind of names.

I caught a bit of Paul Simon tonight and it reminded me of little Benjamin and other little boys (who are becoming bigger boys by the minute):

Oo, little sleepy boy
Do you know what time it is?
Well the hour of your bedtime's long been past
And though I know you're fighting it
I can tell when you rub your eyes
You're fading fast, oh fading fast

Welcome little Benjamin.