Really, I must get to the rink more often. This would be accomplished if I had the monetary funds to do so and didn't park my car 8 1/2 blocks from my apartment. Now that the time has changed (Daylight Savings Time, I think) it seems so dark at 5:30am. This will change, right?
So, another week down and once again, I have learned a few more things.
1. Never listen to the weather person on Channel 1. On Sunday, he said it would be warm. Really? In what universe is 40 degrees warm?
2. If the weather person says it's going to be warm, expect the rink to crank up the cold making it almost unbearable.
3. Very cold rinks, no warm-up and dressing inappropriately will make my knees hurt. And various other parts of my body.
4. Most former Olympians are extremely sweet and interesting to talk to.
5. No, I don't skate for exercise. Please stop asking me.
6. Still don't have any kids. Didn't have them last year; don't have them now. Please stop asking me.
7. If you drink water after every bite of food, you will live in the bathroom.'
8. If you do drink that much water, bring something to read in the bathroom. Leave it there because, you will be back.
9. Skipping lunch, dinner and breakfast the next day can make you really, really dizzy while sitting in a warm classroom. Thank you "Sebastian", my hero, for making sure I was okay after becoming ill.
10. Your co-workers truly believe that anything that happens to them is much more important, tragic, funny, exciting... than anything that happens to you. Your DOG is sick, not your kids, not you; YOUR DOG!!
11. Taking a class at another school that is supposed to be a high level ASL class and you learn absolutely nothing, can make for a really frustrating drive home from Long Island.
12. Had a dream where everyone was signing AND skating. Cool.
I am really at a loss as to how I can get more ice time when even the most creative accounting is leaving me with a negative number after paying my bills. I would hate to think that my skating career is coming to an end thanks totally to my lack of funds and terrible job.
While ASL is incredibly important in my life, skating has been part of it for almost as long. (I started signing as a kid after seeing the movie "The Miracle Worker". My sisters and I learned from books, not knowing that the sentence structure is different, etc. I learned as much as I could from those old library books and still remember some of the old, outdated signs I learned as a kid.) I would like to stay as well-rounded as possible by signing and skating. Although right now, I have no idea how I'm going to do that.
If I had a bit more free time, I'd get a second job. As it is, I am sacrificing sleep to study and work out. Maybe after I pay for the workshops I have to attend and my car insurance and cell phone, I can squeeze out a few dollars for another session.
It'll all work out, if it's meant to. In the meantime, I'm off to finish that article I was reading in the bathroom ten minutes ago...
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Friday, March 9, 2012
Lessons Learned
Having crawled my way out of my hole depression enough to see the surface, I have learned a few things:
1. Don't complain about your depression to certain friends; the conversation will suddenly become all about them. And you know who you are!
2. Chocolate really CAN make you feel better, providing the amount doesn't make you sick first. I scored high on that test, having experienced both.
3. It sucks to be unable to cry. This is not a physical ailment, but an emotional one that I've noticed since the passing of my mom. Tears well up in my eyes and that's as far as they travel. Maybe they need a passport.
4. Depression can cause insomnia. I am still due 2 or 3 days of sleep.
5. Too much chocolate can also give you a migraine.
6. Skating, when it works well, can make me smile.
7. Signing almost always makes me smile. Except for that time my instructor said I was an "overly enthusiastic" signer. I took it as an insult; I still do. I attending a seminar on Black ASL; Black people ARE enthusiastic signers, so THERE John!
This past weekend, I had the best weekend I've had since my visit to Gallaudet University and the surprise birthday party my sister gave me. I was working with my signing mentor (we sew) and she needed to make a voice phone call. Guess who had to interpret? ME! I was soooooo past nervous, afraid I was going to totally screw it up. But guess what? I didn't. Yes, it's difficult to listen to someone over the phone (speaker phone - my speaker phone) and sign what they're saying and then voice what my mentor was signing, but it was WONDERFUL!!!
On Sunday, there was a competition at another rink, which meant, many of the little pony-tailed Divas wouldn't be on the session. It was heaven! I was actually able to skate both sessions. And actually skate them. I did my MIF, jumps, spins, footwork and even went through an old program I haven't done in over a year. It was so wonderful I was exhausted when I finished. How I wish every session could be that productive!
Now that my annoying depression has abated, I can return to taking a page from "Sebastian's" book. No one can stop me unless I allow them to stop me. I need to get out of my own way and stay out of my own way.
There are few things in this world that I am passionate about: skating and signing are two of them. So hear this world: don't get in my way when it comes to my passions. You will stepped on and you won't like the fact that I'm wearing skates and cussing at you in sign language.
1. Don't complain about your depression to certain friends; the conversation will suddenly become all about them. And you know who you are!
2. Chocolate really CAN make you feel better, providing the amount doesn't make you sick first. I scored high on that test, having experienced both.
3. It sucks to be unable to cry. This is not a physical ailment, but an emotional one that I've noticed since the passing of my mom. Tears well up in my eyes and that's as far as they travel. Maybe they need a passport.
4. Depression can cause insomnia. I am still due 2 or 3 days of sleep.
5. Too much chocolate can also give you a migraine.
6. Skating, when it works well, can make me smile.
7. Signing almost always makes me smile. Except for that time my instructor said I was an "overly enthusiastic" signer. I took it as an insult; I still do. I attending a seminar on Black ASL; Black people ARE enthusiastic signers, so THERE John!
This past weekend, I had the best weekend I've had since my visit to Gallaudet University and the surprise birthday party my sister gave me. I was working with my signing mentor (we sew) and she needed to make a voice phone call. Guess who had to interpret? ME! I was soooooo past nervous, afraid I was going to totally screw it up. But guess what? I didn't. Yes, it's difficult to listen to someone over the phone (speaker phone - my speaker phone) and sign what they're saying and then voice what my mentor was signing, but it was WONDERFUL!!!
On Sunday, there was a competition at another rink, which meant, many of the little pony-tailed Divas wouldn't be on the session. It was heaven! I was actually able to skate both sessions. And actually skate them. I did my MIF, jumps, spins, footwork and even went through an old program I haven't done in over a year. It was so wonderful I was exhausted when I finished. How I wish every session could be that productive!
Now that my annoying depression has abated, I can return to taking a page from "Sebastian's" book. No one can stop me unless I allow them to stop me. I need to get out of my own way and stay out of my own way.
There are few things in this world that I am passionate about: skating and signing are two of them. So hear this world: don't get in my way when it comes to my passions. You will stepped on and you won't like the fact that I'm wearing skates and cussing at you in sign language.
Friday, March 2, 2012
Totally Off Topic
This has very little, if anything to do with skating. It does, however, have a lot to do with, well, me.
On top of my other annoying ailments (back, cough, stomach, weight and now knees), I suffer from a sometimes debilitating depression. There are days when I struggle to get out of bed, put on a semi-happy face and go out into the world. Today was one of those days.
I have been lucky because I haven't been this depressed in nearly a year. That's cause to celebrate in my book; but I gave up drinking for Lent and well, Easter isn't for another month. So, I ate some chocolate. Not to celebrate, but because I was having trouble coping.
As you know, I hate my job. I mean, I really, really hate my job. There are days when I think committing suicide would be an excellent choice rather than having to come into work the next day. This week was one of those weeks. I was cursed at, told I was an idiot and a waste of time and had total strangers scream at me over the phone. Add to that the commute from hell and well, you see where I'm coming from.
I have been able to deal with this madness, but recently, I just wanted to crawl into a dark hole and stay there. Nothing has been able to lift me from this feeling of total darkness; not skating, not signing, nothing.
While I know these feelings will pass, I can't seem to wrap my head around it right now. I've tried therapy; my last therapist was such an annoying piece of work that I walked out on my last session muttering "Good riddance, bitch!" burning from my lips. I've tried medication, but with my stomach, well, let's just say they weren't on the same page. So I just push it down. Keep myself busy. Try to get over it.
It didn't work this week.
When you realize that you are underpaid by over $25,000 and no one will give you an interview because the organization you work for is considered "the enemy"; it gets to you. When your boss treats you like you're an idiot because SHE'S an idiot; it gets to you. When your 40 mile-round-trip commute causes your blood pressure to rise each and every day of the week; it gets to you. When a total stranger who can't remember HIS email address curses YOU out; it gets to you. When you have to take money out of your 401K because you have absolutely no money left and it's pay day; it gets to you. When people complain every single day of the week and three times on the weekend; it gets to you. When one more person asks if you're pregnant and you're just FAT; it gets to you. When someone assumes that you're angry and you're just passionate about what you're discussing (and you're discussing it quietly)and they are only assuming you're angry because Black women are ALWAYS angry; it gets to you.
I have tried to be optimistic. I have tried to look on the sunny side of life. But I'm tired. And it's raining. The sun isn't smiling back like on the Raisin Brand box. The sun is just as sad and tired as I am.
This will pass, but for now, I will retreat to my bed, where I've spent most of the day. I got up and sort-of got dressed so I could buy chocolate; three bars, which I ate myself. Yes, I know that does nothing for my weight, but when you consider that I've been busting my ass and have GAINED 3 pounds, I don't give a damn.
I know I have a job and I should be grateful for it. Believe me, I am. It almost pays all my bills without having to do some clever accounting. I've been looking for s new job for eight years. EIGHT YEARS!!!!!! My job is sucking the life out of me. It's slowly killing me.
Anger is another form of depression, so since I'm already depressed, I have a double dosage of it. As I said, I know this will pass. It has to. I have school tomorrow and skating on Sunday. Everyone expect me to be upbeat and chipper.
Why did I give up drinking for Lent? Right now, a 48 oz Cosmo would make me feel so much better. Did I mention I have a crooked cd stuck in my cd/dvd drive? I can't get the damned thing open and will have to bring it in to have it fixed. Watch me perform some clever accounting!
We will return to our regularly scheduled program on Sunday after skating. In the meantime, please allow me to wallow in self-pity for another hour. By then, it'll be another day and this one, this week, will be over.
Personally, I've never been that fond of people, in general.
On top of my other annoying ailments (back, cough, stomach, weight and now knees), I suffer from a sometimes debilitating depression. There are days when I struggle to get out of bed, put on a semi-happy face and go out into the world. Today was one of those days.
I have been lucky because I haven't been this depressed in nearly a year. That's cause to celebrate in my book; but I gave up drinking for Lent and well, Easter isn't for another month. So, I ate some chocolate. Not to celebrate, but because I was having trouble coping.
As you know, I hate my job. I mean, I really, really hate my job. There are days when I think committing suicide would be an excellent choice rather than having to come into work the next day. This week was one of those weeks. I was cursed at, told I was an idiot and a waste of time and had total strangers scream at me over the phone. Add to that the commute from hell and well, you see where I'm coming from.
I have been able to deal with this madness, but recently, I just wanted to crawl into a dark hole and stay there. Nothing has been able to lift me from this feeling of total darkness; not skating, not signing, nothing.
While I know these feelings will pass, I can't seem to wrap my head around it right now. I've tried therapy; my last therapist was such an annoying piece of work that I walked out on my last session muttering "Good riddance, bitch!" burning from my lips. I've tried medication, but with my stomach, well, let's just say they weren't on the same page. So I just push it down. Keep myself busy. Try to get over it.
It didn't work this week.
When you realize that you are underpaid by over $25,000 and no one will give you an interview because the organization you work for is considered "the enemy"; it gets to you. When your boss treats you like you're an idiot because SHE'S an idiot; it gets to you. When your 40 mile-round-trip commute causes your blood pressure to rise each and every day of the week; it gets to you. When a total stranger who can't remember HIS email address curses YOU out; it gets to you. When you have to take money out of your 401K because you have absolutely no money left and it's pay day; it gets to you. When people complain every single day of the week and three times on the weekend; it gets to you. When one more person asks if you're pregnant and you're just FAT; it gets to you. When someone assumes that you're angry and you're just passionate about what you're discussing (and you're discussing it quietly)and they are only assuming you're angry because Black women are ALWAYS angry; it gets to you.
I have tried to be optimistic. I have tried to look on the sunny side of life. But I'm tired. And it's raining. The sun isn't smiling back like on the Raisin Brand box. The sun is just as sad and tired as I am.
This will pass, but for now, I will retreat to my bed, where I've spent most of the day. I got up and sort-of got dressed so I could buy chocolate; three bars, which I ate myself. Yes, I know that does nothing for my weight, but when you consider that I've been busting my ass and have GAINED 3 pounds, I don't give a damn.
I know I have a job and I should be grateful for it. Believe me, I am. It almost pays all my bills without having to do some clever accounting. I've been looking for s new job for eight years. EIGHT YEARS!!!!!! My job is sucking the life out of me. It's slowly killing me.
Anger is another form of depression, so since I'm already depressed, I have a double dosage of it. As I said, I know this will pass. It has to. I have school tomorrow and skating on Sunday. Everyone expect me to be upbeat and chipper.
Why did I give up drinking for Lent? Right now, a 48 oz Cosmo would make me feel so much better. Did I mention I have a crooked cd stuck in my cd/dvd drive? I can't get the damned thing open and will have to bring it in to have it fixed. Watch me perform some clever accounting!
We will return to our regularly scheduled program on Sunday after skating. In the meantime, please allow me to wallow in self-pity for another hour. By then, it'll be another day and this one, this week, will be over.
Personally, I've never been that fond of people, in general.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Pleasantly Surprised
There was no session on Sunday due to President's Day weekend. That is not to say that I slept in. No, I had the opportunity to work with my ASL mentor earlier in the day. Who knew reupholstering a chair could be so much fun?
I attend three different schools in an attempt to become more fluent in American Sign Language: a university in Long Island, a school for the Deaf in Queens, and a small, relaxed, friendly independent school in Manhattan. While I enjoy classes everywhere, it is the last one, the small independent school where I feel the most at home. The instructors there are skilled and wonderful. There is a warm, friendly atmosphere that makes everyone feel at home. I feel as though they are as close to being my friends as they could possibly be.
It is at that last school where I had the pleasure of having an instructor who I can only describe as my hero. Since I didn't ask his permission to use his name, I will call him "Sebastian".
"Sebastian" is amazing. He has traveled to places I never would have dreamed of: Vietnam and Sri Lanka. And places I've always wanted to visit, like Great Britain and France. He is fearless.
"Sebastian" backpacked from Mexico to California. Alone. Did I mention that "Sebastian" is Deaf? And that he traveled alone? During this trip. he encountered snakes, bugs and at least one cougar.
Did I mention that "Sebastian" is Deaf? And he did this trip alone?
Last month, "Sebastian" went ice climbing. He is fearless and my hero. He never lets anything stop him from doing what he wants to do. He is planning another backpacking trip and I am in awe of his determination.
For that reason (and his incredibly beautiful eyes!) I am one of his biggest fans. "Sebastian" has inspired me to try as hard as I can to do whatever I want to do. Nothing is too hard. Nothing.
With that in mind, I headed for the rink on Wednesday. I left work later than I wanted to and hit a small amount of traffic. After dropping off my car, I got on a subway that was delayed for reasons I can't imagine. But I did finally get to the rink. Although I was a half hour late by the time I finally got on the ice, I was determined to work as hard as possible.
Perhaps I was inspired by "Sebastian", or maybe because my pain level was low, or because I am still a little light-headed (don't know why; I think it's sinus related), but I worked really, really hard. I've been working on my Moves in the Field for so long that I can't stand them anymore. Plus, I needed to be able to concentrate really hard and I just didn't have it in me to do that. So, we skipped the MIF and went on to spins.
That's when it happened.
I don't know what caused it, but all of my spins were good. They were fast, tight, centered and had more revolutions than I've ever performed. Bad habits seemed to disappear and all the spins were good; even Amy said so.
I was amazed. I was thrilled. I worked so hard I had sweat running down my face. (Side bar: I don't sweat a lot) It was wonderful. It was the best session I had in a long time.
It's time for me to take a page from "Sebastian's" book and become more fearless. I have spent too long wondering if people will laugh at me (they already do/already have) or if I look foolish. I've already looked foolish and it didn't kill me. I've already taken bad falls and it didn't kill me. I am tired of trying not to be noticed. I am here and if you don't like it, too damn bad.
Skating on Sunday will be a challenge; I already know that. But I'll be on the ice and that is the best part. On Monday, I'll be getting up to skate really, really early. And yes, I know, I've said it before, but this time I mean it!
Thank you "Sebastian". You have educated me in ASL and you have opened my heart. As with all the instructors at that wonderful school, I will hold you in my heart forever and never forget any of you. You have made me see what I could be and what I should do.
Now, it's off to bed so I can get up to skate in the morning. I want to take that MIF test before the summer, so I have some serious work to do.
I attend three different schools in an attempt to become more fluent in American Sign Language: a university in Long Island, a school for the Deaf in Queens, and a small, relaxed, friendly independent school in Manhattan. While I enjoy classes everywhere, it is the last one, the small independent school where I feel the most at home. The instructors there are skilled and wonderful. There is a warm, friendly atmosphere that makes everyone feel at home. I feel as though they are as close to being my friends as they could possibly be.
It is at that last school where I had the pleasure of having an instructor who I can only describe as my hero. Since I didn't ask his permission to use his name, I will call him "Sebastian".
"Sebastian" is amazing. He has traveled to places I never would have dreamed of: Vietnam and Sri Lanka. And places I've always wanted to visit, like Great Britain and France. He is fearless.
"Sebastian" backpacked from Mexico to California. Alone. Did I mention that "Sebastian" is Deaf? And that he traveled alone? During this trip. he encountered snakes, bugs and at least one cougar.
Did I mention that "Sebastian" is Deaf? And he did this trip alone?
Last month, "Sebastian" went ice climbing. He is fearless and my hero. He never lets anything stop him from doing what he wants to do. He is planning another backpacking trip and I am in awe of his determination.
For that reason (and his incredibly beautiful eyes!) I am one of his biggest fans. "Sebastian" has inspired me to try as hard as I can to do whatever I want to do. Nothing is too hard. Nothing.
With that in mind, I headed for the rink on Wednesday. I left work later than I wanted to and hit a small amount of traffic. After dropping off my car, I got on a subway that was delayed for reasons I can't imagine. But I did finally get to the rink. Although I was a half hour late by the time I finally got on the ice, I was determined to work as hard as possible.
Perhaps I was inspired by "Sebastian", or maybe because my pain level was low, or because I am still a little light-headed (don't know why; I think it's sinus related), but I worked really, really hard. I've been working on my Moves in the Field for so long that I can't stand them anymore. Plus, I needed to be able to concentrate really hard and I just didn't have it in me to do that. So, we skipped the MIF and went on to spins.
That's when it happened.
I don't know what caused it, but all of my spins were good. They were fast, tight, centered and had more revolutions than I've ever performed. Bad habits seemed to disappear and all the spins were good; even Amy said so.
I was amazed. I was thrilled. I worked so hard I had sweat running down my face. (Side bar: I don't sweat a lot) It was wonderful. It was the best session I had in a long time.
It's time for me to take a page from "Sebastian's" book and become more fearless. I have spent too long wondering if people will laugh at me (they already do/already have) or if I look foolish. I've already looked foolish and it didn't kill me. I've already taken bad falls and it didn't kill me. I am tired of trying not to be noticed. I am here and if you don't like it, too damn bad.
Skating on Sunday will be a challenge; I already know that. But I'll be on the ice and that is the best part. On Monday, I'll be getting up to skate really, really early. And yes, I know, I've said it before, but this time I mean it!
Thank you "Sebastian". You have educated me in ASL and you have opened my heart. As with all the instructors at that wonderful school, I will hold you in my heart forever and never forget any of you. You have made me see what I could be and what I should do.
Now, it's off to bed so I can get up to skate in the morning. I want to take that MIF test before the summer, so I have some serious work to do.
Monday, February 13, 2012
A Slight Step Backwards
I caught a cold two weeks ago. It won't away. Now it's in my chest and I sound like I'm coughing up a lung. I can't catch my breath. I had to stop working out at lunch because all I want to do is sleep. And I can't breathe.
I didn't go to the rink on Sunday because I had an ASL workshop to attend. It was great. Unfortunately, my hands hurt, a lot. I'm thinking it's from typing, texting and flipping the channels, but NOT from signing. That's good.
So for those two reasons, I have almost nothing to say about skating. Hopefully things will be back to normal soon. Really soon.
I didn't go to the rink on Sunday because I had an ASL workshop to attend. It was great. Unfortunately, my hands hurt, a lot. I'm thinking it's from typing, texting and flipping the channels, but NOT from signing. That's good.
So for those two reasons, I have almost nothing to say about skating. Hopefully things will be back to normal soon. Really soon.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
I Was Inspired!!!
Yes, inspired. Why? Two women are representing the US at the World Championships. "Okay," you're thinking, but here's the kicker: BOTH are LEFTIES!!!! That's right! Or left! Both Ashley and Alissa are lefties. Take that!
So, with a fire in my belly (and not the usual fire I have that's caused by something upsetting my tummy...) I awoke this Sunday morning, looking forward to skating. Planning what I would do once I got on the ice. I dared to dream big. I had plans people, BIG plans!
I still felt that way even though by the time I wrapped my knees, took attendance and did the head count of skaters flying past me, there was only 15 minutes left to the first session. "It's okay," I told myself, "just get out there and work."
Then I stepped onto the ice.
Twenty-two skaters are too many to be on this session. The rink, I have discovered, is slightly smaller than Olympic size. Add to the mix the fact that 90% of the skaters come up to my shoulder, maybe. So I have to look down a little to see them. Did I ever mention that they can be a bit like gnats? They sort of buzz around you until you swat at them and then they scatter.
"No matter!" I said and decided to push on. Three laps around the track, half of a move in the field and the session was over. The Zamboni came out and did a resurface.
Then it got a little worse.
The head-count was already 18 when more and more people came up to me to sign in. I did the count on paper three times because I couldn't believe the number: 29. 29. The max on the session is 27, but really, 22 was too many. I had to do the head count six times before I got 29 skaters, although the first count yielded 44. (They're moving as I'm trying to count. And ALL little girls with long brown ponytails look alike from the back.)
I got on the ice and was promptly cut off doing... nothing. I gave up trying to finish my moves when I stepped forward to do the preliminary strokes into one of them and had a skater slam into me. She was looking right at me at the time.
"Okay, I'll do back spins." WRONG!!! In a space less than my height (5'6 1/4"), another adult skater thought that was the absolute best place for her to practice everything from kicking her leg in the air, to just doing crossovers. I tried ten back spins; did three successfully and ducked my fellow skater's leg four times, the other times, I just fell out of the spins.
I got off the ice.
I had gotten cold and stiff in that time and thought it would be best to just throw in the towel today.
On another note: music hogs are really rude. And I mean you Miss Missy, who played her program FOUR TIMES in a crowded session where there's another skater who is going to a competition next week and didn't get her music played at all.
I need to sleep now. This morning took so much out of me and I didn't even get to do anything. But, to quote Anne of Green Gables: "Tomorrow is another day, with no mistakes on it... yet."
So, with a fire in my belly (and not the usual fire I have that's caused by something upsetting my tummy...) I awoke this Sunday morning, looking forward to skating. Planning what I would do once I got on the ice. I dared to dream big. I had plans people, BIG plans!
I still felt that way even though by the time I wrapped my knees, took attendance and did the head count of skaters flying past me, there was only 15 minutes left to the first session. "It's okay," I told myself, "just get out there and work."
Then I stepped onto the ice.
Twenty-two skaters are too many to be on this session. The rink, I have discovered, is slightly smaller than Olympic size. Add to the mix the fact that 90% of the skaters come up to my shoulder, maybe. So I have to look down a little to see them. Did I ever mention that they can be a bit like gnats? They sort of buzz around you until you swat at them and then they scatter.
"No matter!" I said and decided to push on. Three laps around the track, half of a move in the field and the session was over. The Zamboni came out and did a resurface.
Then it got a little worse.
The head-count was already 18 when more and more people came up to me to sign in. I did the count on paper three times because I couldn't believe the number: 29. 29. The max on the session is 27, but really, 22 was too many. I had to do the head count six times before I got 29 skaters, although the first count yielded 44. (They're moving as I'm trying to count. And ALL little girls with long brown ponytails look alike from the back.)
I got on the ice and was promptly cut off doing... nothing. I gave up trying to finish my moves when I stepped forward to do the preliminary strokes into one of them and had a skater slam into me. She was looking right at me at the time.
"Okay, I'll do back spins." WRONG!!! In a space less than my height (5'6 1/4"), another adult skater thought that was the absolute best place for her to practice everything from kicking her leg in the air, to just doing crossovers. I tried ten back spins; did three successfully and ducked my fellow skater's leg four times, the other times, I just fell out of the spins.
I got off the ice.
I had gotten cold and stiff in that time and thought it would be best to just throw in the towel today.
On another note: music hogs are really rude. And I mean you Miss Missy, who played her program FOUR TIMES in a crowded session where there's another skater who is going to a competition next week and didn't get her music played at all.
I need to sleep now. This morning took so much out of me and I didn't even get to do anything. But, to quote Anne of Green Gables: "Tomorrow is another day, with no mistakes on it... yet."
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
SSDD
So, at work I got a new title. Nope, no money involved, but the title "Director" sounds cool. There are only 3 people in my department. In my company EVERYONE was made a director, so, it's safe to say that this was something to make everyone happy. I'm as happy as I can be there, which means I'm really not happy at all. Moving on....
On a totally different subject (and not skating just yet), when I dream, people are signing, not speaking. That's right, I am now dreaming in ASL, not PSE (Pigeon Signed English). I think it's cool. My mentor thinks it's cool. Even my family thinks it's cool. My co-workers think I am one step away from the looney bin.
Whatever!
In an effort to embrace good health and more skating, I have been doing a kick-ass workout during lunch. It takes about 30 minutes for most people, 37 minutes for me. Why? I spend 7 minutes after the workout is over lying on the floor unable to move. I'm just too tired to move. I was really hoping I would look a bit fitter after a week (and some pretty decent eating), but I still think I look like a brown Sta-Puff Marshmallow Man.
So, thinking I was doing the right thing, I launched myself into skating. Maybe not launch. I'm still only skating 2 days a week. I skated on Sunday and had a pretty good session; actually two pretty good sessions. Imagine my surprise. I landed jumps, I did spins, I even did those annoying MIF (Moves in the Field). I even laughed, which almost never happens when I have to monitor the session.
About two weeks ago, I was walking to the supermarket when something struck me: I work very, very hard on my sign language, in attempts to become fluent because it means so much to me. Skating means a lot to me too and I haven't been putting in nearly enough time. If I want to improve, I will have to do things that I'm not looking forward to. What? Getting up at 4:30 in the morning and driving to a 6:00 session two mornings a week before work.
I'm not really looking forward to it because I park my car 8 blocks from my apartment. Yes, 8 blocks and I pay to park there. (On a side note: because I park my car in a lot, near a tree, by a fence, someone decided to walk their dog on the property. I stepped in the deposit and spent my entire drive into work screaming "WHAT IS THAT SMELL??!!!!") I will probably look for parking the night before closer to my apartment so I can avoid the walk at 5:00am.
This past Sunday, I saw an old friend from skating. I hadn't seen her in over 3 years and she was kind enough to say that I looked like I lost weight. Okay, very kind. We started skating at about the same time. She is much more advanced than I am. And that kinda hurts now. Okay, sure, I've had more than my share of injuries and set backs, but come on! I'm at the same level I was at eight years ago. It's almost as though I've never improved. Or rather, that I improved for a while and then, suddenly it was gone again. I am NOT consistent. I chalk that up to not enough practice.
So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed. Yes, it's past 11:00pm. And no, I won't be getting up to go to the rink tomorrow morning. It's Tuesday night. I skate Wednesday evenings. I will (hopefully) go to bed early on Thursday night to get up and skate on Friday morning.
Wish me luck with that.
In the meantime, be careful where you step.
On a totally different subject (and not skating just yet), when I dream, people are signing, not speaking. That's right, I am now dreaming in ASL, not PSE (Pigeon Signed English). I think it's cool. My mentor thinks it's cool. Even my family thinks it's cool. My co-workers think I am one step away from the looney bin.
Whatever!
In an effort to embrace good health and more skating, I have been doing a kick-ass workout during lunch. It takes about 30 minutes for most people, 37 minutes for me. Why? I spend 7 minutes after the workout is over lying on the floor unable to move. I'm just too tired to move. I was really hoping I would look a bit fitter after a week (and some pretty decent eating), but I still think I look like a brown Sta-Puff Marshmallow Man.
So, thinking I was doing the right thing, I launched myself into skating. Maybe not launch. I'm still only skating 2 days a week. I skated on Sunday and had a pretty good session; actually two pretty good sessions. Imagine my surprise. I landed jumps, I did spins, I even did those annoying MIF (Moves in the Field). I even laughed, which almost never happens when I have to monitor the session.
About two weeks ago, I was walking to the supermarket when something struck me: I work very, very hard on my sign language, in attempts to become fluent because it means so much to me. Skating means a lot to me too and I haven't been putting in nearly enough time. If I want to improve, I will have to do things that I'm not looking forward to. What? Getting up at 4:30 in the morning and driving to a 6:00 session two mornings a week before work.
I'm not really looking forward to it because I park my car 8 blocks from my apartment. Yes, 8 blocks and I pay to park there. (On a side note: because I park my car in a lot, near a tree, by a fence, someone decided to walk their dog on the property. I stepped in the deposit and spent my entire drive into work screaming "WHAT IS THAT SMELL??!!!!") I will probably look for parking the night before closer to my apartment so I can avoid the walk at 5:00am.
This past Sunday, I saw an old friend from skating. I hadn't seen her in over 3 years and she was kind enough to say that I looked like I lost weight. Okay, very kind. We started skating at about the same time. She is much more advanced than I am. And that kinda hurts now. Okay, sure, I've had more than my share of injuries and set backs, but come on! I'm at the same level I was at eight years ago. It's almost as though I've never improved. Or rather, that I improved for a while and then, suddenly it was gone again. I am NOT consistent. I chalk that up to not enough practice.
So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed. Yes, it's past 11:00pm. And no, I won't be getting up to go to the rink tomorrow morning. It's Tuesday night. I skate Wednesday evenings. I will (hopefully) go to bed early on Thursday night to get up and skate on Friday morning.
Wish me luck with that.
In the meantime, be careful where you step.
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