Colorado. Runner. Yogi. Fucking hilarious, like, 17% of the time.

didn't even need therapy to rehabilitate my smile

Did you catch that I got into the Rocky Mountain Rollergirls yet? I mean, I was subtle about it - I told Facebook and Twitter and my readers here and everyone on my speed dial and everyone at work, but that's totally all. Well, and most of the people in my email address book. Oh, and my neighbors. And the guy at the liquor store. But that's it, I'm pretty sure. So it's totally understandable if you missed it. At the end of the tryout, I told Dangerous Leigh A'Zon how much her comment on my earlier post meant, and she told me that other RMRGs had read it too. Yeah, it was a mind blower. Then one of the other newbies asked me what I blogged about, and I got all stammery and pink and that was pretty much the end of that moment. My derby name will not be Eloquent Under Pressure (and not just because that would be a stupid name).

So here's the situation as I understand it. I'll know more after my first practice, but that's not until Thursday and really, what are the chances that I could possibly wait that long to blog about it?

Right now, I'm not actually on a team or anything. I'm 'fresh meat'. No, seriously, that's what one of the girls told me we're called. I'm going to practice twice a week and watch scrimmages on some Sundays until I'm good enough to become a Kill Scout. I was told it was a takes about three months, but I don't know if that's a requirement or just how long it usually takes to become good enough that you don't die when you try to play for real. The season is technically over, so I won't be playing until the spring even if I turn out to be some sort of freaking prodigy (which I totally expect to be, because of the pure awesomeness that oozes from my pores. Oozing awesomeness - bet that's a mental picture you were really hoping to have today.)

It's a big time commitment, and I love my nights with my girlfriends and my boy and my chicas. But this will lead to new girlfriends and a happier (if slightly more bruised) me, and I'm good with that.

thoughts while watching (the original) wicker man

mistresses schmistresses