Someday She'll Learn

I sometimes think that I am a glutton for punishment.

And right now, my sore backside is echoing that sentiment.

I had the brilliant idea to go ice skating. Me...a klutz. A girl with no coordination. A girl that runs into walls. A girl who, (completely sober) would still fail a field sobriety test of walking a straight line.

Yes, that girl (me) strapped on a pair of rental skates, threw caution to the wind and eased my way onto the ice.

It took about 2.2 seconds to realize that I had lost my mind.

There was no elegant gliding. No effortless manuvering or fancy footwork. No no...those things were replaced with cursing, stumbling, and more cursing. I resorted to clinging to the edge of the rink as if it were my life preserver, maintaining a death grip while cautiously scooting my way around the arena. Moments of panic came at points when other skaters were resting against the edge of the rink, directly ahead of me. Forcing me to let go of safety, say a quick prayer and try to glide past them to the other side.

Most of my efforts were successful. One was not. I was faintly aware of everything moving in slow motion. I felt my foot catch and my body lose balance. I remember thinking, "Oh Damn! No! No no no no no!!! Please no! Everyone's watching!" Then everything went white. Followed by the oddest sensation of feeling that while my butt was terribly cold...my face was burning with fire.

Without meeting anyone's eyes, I pulled myself up and brushed off the half pound of ice shavings that had taken hold of my clothes. Then I squared my shoulders, stuck my chin defiantly up in the air...daring anyone to snicker...and proceeded to continue stumbling my way around the ice rink.

All in all it was good fun, though it's not something I'm in a terrible hurry to try again. I think I'll just stick to rollerskating if it's all the same.