Thursday, June 9

Sore booty blog

Roller skating isn't for sissies. I have a 2" bruise on my palm and a sore booty from falling in triplicate. But I survived -- apparently to the surpise of my father, who said 2 people went to the ER yesterday where I grew up, 1 from a scooter and 1 from an ATV. I told him I went much slower on skates. But I really can't remember having been since I was 12 years old. It suddenly got uncool when we got into 8th grade. The last few times we went to the skating rink we never actually skated. It was, as a friend put it, the make-out capital of junior high. Of course I never made out there. I may not have too much class to go there, but I have too much class to get my smooch on there. Always have. It occurred to us that there should be an adult skate night, where you're not all distracted by trying not to run over little kiddies as you re-learn to skate. Then, as has been suggested elsewhere, they could play all the tunes we loved back in the day. Later I also thought a dirty hippies' night would go over well, too, based on the number of dirty hippies per capita there. Or maybe just an unwashed, braless, pit-hairy night. Then all the hipsters could go, too.

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