I fall like it's an art form.

So the weekend is over.  I have to be on a 7:30 am shuttle tomorrow, and my day probably won't wind down until around 11 at night.

Such are my Tuesdays.

But what a weekend it was.

I woke up on Saturday morning (if you could call it that, it was almost noon), and proceeded to walk across our minuscule campus to the dining hall.  I found a group of friends and sat down with them.

Almost immediately (or at least, it felt like it) I was accosted with
           "Are you going ice skating with us today!??!?!?!?!?!"

Oh god.

I mumbled something about getting food before I answer any difficult questions.

Once I was full of french toast and eggs, I (for whatever reason) agreed to go ice skating.

I know, I know.  This is my fault and the fact that my shoulder STILL doesn't feel quite right is all on me.

But I digress.

We agree to meet up on the shuttle at 12:45, leaving me all of 20 minutes to get myself together to go ice-skating.

The first thing I do is change out of the jeans I'm wearing.  They have buttons on the back pockets and the image of having buttons surgically extracted from my butt from falling repeatedly is not a pleasant one.  I change into sweatpants, find some gloves, and brace myself for the inevitable pain.

After all, last time I tried something new and athletic with friends I ended up with a skinned knee and abs that hurt for days.

Flag football, psh.

You remember this?  Me too.

ANYWAY.

I went ice-skating.  

First I got the skates, and hooray!  They look better then the goddamned shoes you rent for bowling, though not by much.

I get onto the ice...

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Let me tell you something right now.  They tell you it's like rollerblading.  If you've been rollerblading, you'll know how to ice-skate.

FALSE.

If you've been rollerblading it just means you have a false sense of security that is dashed on the planes of slippery, slippery death beneath you.

So I'm skittering around like a fool, and I remind myself of those poor dogs and cats that wear snow booties for the first time.  They don't know what to do with their feet so they just stand still and glare at you.

Look at that glare of utter disdain.
Wait, hold up- LOOK AT WHAT THAT CAT IS WEARING!
Bahahahahha!

It was a free skate session, so I did have to move somehow:

                     Hi Wall, I'm Jenny.  Don't mind me groping you--- It's a necessity.


Eventually I did get moving, and I actually started doing pretty well. 

Until I felt the skates actually start to bend beneath me. 

........Really, it's no issue, I don't mind broken ankles.

After confirming that indeed, my skates were screwy, I got hockey skates and tried again.

MUCH better.  And by better I mean I was upright and moving.  Let's not get too ahead of ourselves.

Remember what I said about confidence?  And getting dashed on the ice?

Yeah, it happened.

I was zooming along, somewhat enjoying myself.  I'm minding my own damn business when this friggen old dude showing off zooms in front of me skating backwards, shoving me to the side.  

Well I had two options: take out a row of kids---and fall.

OR I could just fall.

I got the middle.  Trying not to get anyone, I still caught another girls skates.  At least she was my age. 

Fall #1, accomplished.

I moved my shamefaced and bruised-butted self off the ice for awhile.

.....until I went back out.

I'm upright and moving.  That's an accomplishment.

However, my friend taking the picture wanted all of us to turn and look at her.  I'm pretty sure I was yelling something about her being crazy.  I mean, turn my whole head, don't watch where I'm going, and SMILE for a picture?

Dream on,  Dream on.

Anyway.  I actually start to do quite well.  I'm more watchful of the showoffs, and I find out that I'm certainly not the only one knocked down by egotistical men in a midlife crisis.

And then something happened. 

I started to go around the turn.  I'd done several laps, but I don't know what was different this time.  All I know is I felt one of my ankles start to turn of its own accord, betraying me.  I imagine I looked quite ridiculous.

I managed to spin, and then fall promptly on my face.

I even got ice-shavings down my shirt.

And on that note, I decided to call it a day.

I sat in the stands for the remaining hour, and watched people get knocked over by the showoffs. 

.................It's much more enjoyable when you're not the one falling.

You would think that the achy, pulled, and bruised muscles would be the worst injury of the day...but no.

I wouldn't let you guys down like that.

I smashed my finger in a door...and ruined my BRAND NEW COAT OF NAIL POLISH.

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And that's where I'm gonna leave it.  Part II of this post up soon I guess.