Giving Thanks and Laying Low

Two weeks ago, maybe less, I had the most awesome skate I've had in weeks. Maybe it was because my coach was there, or maybe it was because I didn't drink the night before (working on that!) but it was wonderful. For reasons I can't figure out, everything and I mean everything worked out.

Then the rink closed for the Labor Day holidays followed by the annual Middle Atlantic competition. I think it opens up for freestyle next week. I'm not sure since the schedule ended on Sept. 3rd and a new one hasn't been posted on the website yet. I look daily.

Also, I have said goodbye to the rink in Bethpage, NY. This is no offense to the people who skate there, but DAMN! Why can't those kids look where they're going? If I set up a jump and you see that I'm already in the air (and my hang time isn't long, by any stretch of the immagination) why, really why would you go into a spin in the corner where I'm about to land. Hey kid, I'm not going to abort this jump for you, I'm already in the air! You shouldn't be spinning in the corners!

That being said, my last session wasn't bad. I left early thanks to back pain and frustration (I hope to meet you at Chelsea Piers young lady. Can't wait to see you on a SCNY session where you will be in EVERYONE'S way.) Oddly enough, I don't want to return to Bethpage for several reasons. The major one is that I would prefer not to work in Long Island and return, instead to Manhattan. I keep looking.

So, I give thanks for those three good sessions. And I wait patiently for the rink to post a schedule. However, sessions with the SCNY will be starting soon; I think I can afford them. Plus, I don't mind bringing my lunch every day; it's healthier.

My weight issues seem to have taken a turn for the worse thanks entirely to a bout of depression. My chosen career is to be a writer. So far, no one wants my writing. My sisters are in show business and have had a fair amount of success. One sister more than the other. And yet that sister complains daily when she's working on a show. And I mean daily. Something is always just not right enough. She's a perfectionist and a "my way or the highway" type of person. However, she has had an incredible career. Things have been a little slow recently, but they are picking up. I'm glad; I want my family to succeed. I want them to be happy. I want my sister to stop complaining so much. I'd like her to actually listen after she asks how I am when I tell her "not so good".

My other sister is in a slump, mostly because she needs to get out of her own way and stop listening to her "friends". I don't know these people; I don't want to know these people, but they NEVER come to visit her. She always goes out of town to visit them. We're talking a day trip here people. I think she's very talented and pretty. These friends seem to be feeding her a lot of negativity wrapped up in religious retoric. Did I mention that I don't like these people?

Anyway, my bout of depression is the culmulation of finding my college boyfriend happily married and not remembering dating me at all, a job I absolutely hate, a commute to said job that makes me wonder if anyone on the Northern State Parkway in Long Island ever read the driver's manual, a long serious bout of writers block and no one wanting to read my work anyway. I've been toying with self-publishing, but fear that I'm going to end up with 10,000 copies of a book that I tear apart to wrap up my breakables if I have to move again.

With that said, until the rink re-opens and I can write myself out of the latest corner I have put the characters of my book into, I will be laying low and working out. Besides, I feel really, really, fat and look pregnant. Why do I say that? Going into Manhattan a few weeks ago, a man gave me his seat because he thought I was pregnant. He asked me when I was due. As I sat down, I said, "I'm not pregnant, just fat. Thanks for the seat."

See you in a week.