June 2008


I went in to check my spam queue (that’s a fun word to type), and I found a comment on my “Just a Quickie” post saying they had missed the point.  It made me laugh and didn’t offend me at all because I very often get on here as a brain purge.  So there frequently isn’t a point other than I’m thinking outloud through my fingers.  So y’all are the lucky readers of my random thoughts, ramblings, gibberish, and all that whatnot.  Yay for you!  Anyway, I fixed the comment so it’s on that post (as well as another saying they agreed – I’m not sure if they agreed that they missed the point or if they agreed that it sucks that there aren’t Dairy Queens in the sort-of country or what, but it wasn’t spam so I put it where it belonged).  My point is (hey!  I have one!!!) that if your comment isn’t spam, I’ll allow it.  Unless you’re an asshole.  Then I just say it’s spam and delete it.  The spam filter on wordpress is pretty decent though, so it’s rare that I have to recover comments.

K, on to the good old random crap that I write.  I bought a new car, finally.  My old car wasn’t old, but it wasn’t really mine either.  See, when I got divorced, I was driving a Lexus that my ex bought me, but it was in his name.  He was supposed to get it put in my name, but never got around to it (it was a lease, so he would’ve had to buy it and then sell it to me which means he would’ve had the payments on the lease accelerated and due all at once.  Whatever, he can afford it).  Since I’m moving out of state, I wasn’t interested in bringing a four year old car which is out of warranty and not in my name.  So Munchkin and I went car shopping.  So not fun.  Oh dear God, please I really hated car shopping.  I ended up getting a Ford Escape.  I originally wanted the hybrid, but there’s like a nine month waiting list, and I didn’t have that kind of time.  Plus, you end up spending like ten grand more than I spent, and there is no way in fuck you’re going to recover that in gas savings.  I feel bad saying that because I wanted the hybrid more for the enviromental reasons than the gas savings, but you know, a girl has to be practical too.  Anyway, it gets the same mileage in a V-6 as my car did, so I’m okay with that.  My payment is the same, and this one I’ll actually own.  I won’t do a lease again.  I’ve named her Dori (like in Nemo because of “Es-cahp-ay”).  I do get a little sad when I see a car like my old one though.  And I’ll miss the weekly free car washes that I really never took advantage of.  Just cuz I’m lazy!

My house still hasn’t sold which is becoming worrisome.  I’m afraid we’re going to have to revisit price.  It sucks because the house is worth more than I have it on the market for, and I hate to reduce anymore.  Unfortunately the current market is calling for lower prices even in economicly strong places like Dallas.  We haven’t been hit as hard as say L.A. or Vegas, but prices are down about 3%.  Urgh!!!  D and I have decided to move my clothes here in mid-August and have this as my base of operations.  My house will stay furnished because a) houses show better with furniture in them, and b) why pay for storage when I can have it for free in my house?  We’ll bring my car here too.  Right now I’m in New Mexico with him for three weeks, and I have no car.  You want to talk about things that suck?  No car is at the top of my list. 

D ordered this and it comes this week.  He’s very excited.  We’re working on gun placement in the new house.  Basically he wants one within reach at all times.  I know the AK is going under the bed.  Oh, he and his dad started building the new one yesterday.  They let me help despite the fact that I broke the receiver on the last one they tried to build.  (Weird pointless rambling coming up: I was trying to find the post where I wrote about breaking the other AK, and I couldn’t find it so I went into total paranoia mode – “WordPress is stealing my posts!”.  Then just now when I started writing this parenthetical crap I remembered that it was in the comments section of a post.  A-ha!!!  But I figure linking to a post where my point is in comments is, well, pointless.  So I’m not doing it.  The point is simply that I broke a gun.  Oops, my bad!  And to Demission who wrote that comment – I’m just playing and having fun with it.  I hope I’m not upsetting you!  Assuming you came back of course.)

Okay, I’m going to go get ready to skate.  We’re working on my Swing Dance, the Hickory Hoedown, the Willow Waltz, and general technique and stroking.  Which means I’m getting yelled at a lot.  Oh, and getting called his Apathetic Adult.  He doesn’t actually yell, but his displeasure is easy to read.

 

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I was unfaithful to my hairdresser today.  Unfortunately, my hairdresser is also one of my best friends.  We’ve had our share of trouble getting my blonde just right, and I finally couldn’t take it anymore.  The back-breaker was when I lifted the top section of hair to blow dry the bottom and noticed striping.  That’s just not okay.  I’m very picky about my hair, and I can’t take that kind of screwed up shit.  If she sees me before I leave town again, I’m going to say D made me do it before the competition because my roots were so bad.

Which leads me to the competition.  We did the Edward G. Picken Pro-Am in Reston, Virginia.  Leading up to it, I kept hearing about how the judges were super-tough and we probably wouldn’t do well since we come from somewhere besides D.C. and aren’t used to their standards and it was going to be a bloodbath for us, blah blah blah.  Nothing like confidence-boosting.  D’s other adult that was going and I were in tears every day, ready to quit the whole sport since we apparently suck and shouldn’t be allowed on the ice with these magical East Coast skaters and all that crap.  Oh, also there would be eleventy billion of them, so we might as well get used to the fact that we were going to come in eleventy billionth.  I was in the car with D when he was on speakerphone with a former student who was talking about all this and asking if he had prepared us for this massacre.  Fucking awesome.  She’s so not my favorite right now.

So that’s the mindset I went to Virginia with.  Oh, and on top of that, the other adult D was taking has tested a level above me but since she hasn’t completed the level, she was allowed to compete at my level as well as hers.  So I figured she would come in second to last and I would be dead last.  When we got there, we found out there were only four of us competing at our level, but that they had had to combine age divisions to get that many.  So we were competing against younger people on top of everything else, but at least there weren’t very many people.  But still, as D would say, fuck me in the gonads.  Needless to say, I was rather unpleasant to be around.  I was going to come in fourth out of four and have some eighteen year old kick my ass.

We finally got to competition day, and I guess I was so resigned to losing that I was pretty relaxed during the practice session that morning.  D was pleasantly surprised by that – the relaxed part, not the resigned part.  When we got to the rink that afternoon for the actual competition, they were running behind schedule, so there was a lot of sitting around waiting.  Then I stood around.  Then I stretched for a bit.  Then I sat some more.  Then I said to fuck with it and put my skates on just for something to do.  Then I stood around some more.  Dude, that is a crazy maker!

Once our warm-up started, I got nervous.  Skating is a funny sport.  When you’re nervous, your knees don’t bend anymore, and if there’s one thing you need to skate, it’s knee-bend.  This always happens to me in test sessions, and then I really freak out and my legs shake.  It wasn’t as bad as my last test though.  I didn’t try to jump over the glass and escape the arena.  Anyway, I had to skate first, so I went straight from warm-up to performing.  I felt like my ChaCha was okay – there was stuff I’d have done differently if I’d been thinking straight, like put my head where it was supposed to be on the end pattern, but at least I wasn’t looking down.  For once.  My Fiesta Tango was pretty gross.  I screwed up the turn both times.  It was a nervous and scrapy turn.

I got to see the other skaters go, and at the end I felt like I had a decent chance for third place because the fourth girl was very very very nervous and it made her have giraffe legs and just overall she wasn’t very good (and now I’m going to hell).  I didn’t say anything to D about it and he didn’t say anything to me.  We went over the corrections (actually I told him what I wanted to fix, and he agreed), and then I changed into street clothes and went to Starbucks.  When I was in ballet, when you were done, you changed and left.  No big deal.

It’s apparently different in skating … while I was gone, I missed the scores going up.  It’s not like on TV where you sit in the little area (I REFUSE to call it “kiss and cry”.  That’s fucking absurd) and somebody announces them.  They print them out and post them on the wall.  I wasn’t even planning on looking at the scores – my original plan was to treat this like a recital and not worry about placement since it was my first competition and all that.  But since I thought I maybe had won third place, I went and checked.  D was on the ice with L and M getting ready for their stuff on Saturday, so I didn’t have anyone to help me read them.  It was very confusing since I skated first, and I kept showing up first, so I thought that that explained my name being up top on both dances.  The scores were done in ordinals, so you could see your placement from each judge.  That just confused me more.  Mine looked like this: 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 and 1 1 1 1 1 2 3 11.  I finally found a skater from Dallas to help me read the things, and she told me I won.  WTF???  And there was no-one to hug because they were all still on practice ice.  So I went to watch the rest of the day’s events.  When it was over, I found D.  He said, “Did you see the results?”  I said yes, and he said, “Here you go” and he handed me my medal.  I said Judge number 7 was clearly not a fan of mine.  Then we went back to the hotel and had sex.  I’m sure you wanted to know that!

Anyway, later on, he kept asking if I had called my parents, so I finally did.  My mom asked if there had been a medal ceremony.  Um, oops, yeah there had been, but I was at Starbucks.  I MISSED my damn medal ceremony!  It hadn’t even dawned on me that there had been one.  I was pretty appalled, but D said it’s no big deal at stuff like this – most people miss theirs.

So here’s how everyone else did:  In that same Pre-Bronze event, D’s other adult came in second.  She won her Bronze event, and she came in fourth out of 13 in the Open Willow Waltz event.  I was supposed to be in that too, but when I screwed up my knee, we pulled out.  Little M (she’s ten years old and has been dancing for just a couple of months, but she does do freestyle) came in fourth out of ten in her Pre-Bronze event and seventh out of eleven in her Bronze event which was really good because it was skating up a level for her and most of the girls in it should’ve been up a level or two.  D said that that age group gets really fucked up because girls won’t test until they find partners even if they are way beyond that level.  So we did pretty well.  D was happy with us.  It’s good for him too because it gets his name out there as a coach.

While I was there, the baby that my sister and brother-in-law are adopting was born.  The birth parents have signed the relinquishment papers and all that, so we’re in the waiting period with all the legal crap.  They should have the baby home by next Friday, but as Jason said, nothing has gone exactly as they’ve said it would, so who knows?  But they’re for sure getting her, so I’m an auntie now!  Yay!!!  Kim and Jason have been with the baby, and they met the birth parents and grandparents and all that.  The dad was having a little more trouble than the mom with the decision, but he said after he met Kim and Jason, he felt really good about it.  He was starting to scare everyone before that though.  My mom’s in Austin with them waiting out the waiting period.  They’re getting the nursery ready and all that.  I sent a box of clothes and diapers and other random baby stuff yesterday.  When Munchkin gets back from camp (he leaves Monday), we’ll go down there too.  The baby should be there by then for sure!

P.S. I’m having trouble with the ding-dang spell checker again.  Sorry for my oopses!