Roller Derby Is Not In My Future

First of all....I am the WORST at blogging! I am resolved to be better, though, and if anyone is out there, I hope you will please forgive me and keep reading. And if no one is out there, then this is just my journal. Cool. Either way is fine.


I have a lot to write about, but instead of doing one massive catch-up post which will be overwhelming a boring, I decided to just start with this week and then move backwards. So for today, I will share this little gem: The Time that Claire Crashed on Her Rollerblades. But Actually Not Her Rollerblades, Someone's She Found in the Garage of Her In-Laws.


Once upon a time, Dave and I were in the mood to do something fun one hot St. George summer evening and so we decided to go and play tennis. But then we realized that Dave's brother had the rackets and they weren't home. And we didn't have a car this week (another story. I will talk about my adventures on foot later) so our options were dwindling. In the process of searching for the rackets (is this even the proper spelling of that word? Racquet? I find no definitive answer on the interwebs) I found these sweet rollerblades in a cupboard and I wanted to use them instantly. They were a little big on me, so I am guessing that once upon a time they were some brother-in-laws when they were like in middle school or something. Or who knows. But I used to love rollerblading when I was a kid so it seemed like a grand, retro sort of idea.


There were only blades in my size so I forced Dave to don a Razor Scooter and we headed for the park. As I soared down the driveway and through the cul-de-sac, a terrible feeling befell me: I most definitely did not remember how to control myself or my speed on rollerblades. And, unlike when I was a kid I was not wearing pads. Dave started yelling "bend your knees, bend your knees!" as soon as he could realize from my flailing arms and ever-gaining speed that I was in a state of utter distress. I was headed straight for a parked Chevy Tahoe. Tan. There was nowhere to go but down, and down I went, quite hard. I don't actually know if I hit the car or not. We may never know.


Luckily, I actually came out pretty unscathed considering. Just some scrapes on my hand and a bruised hip. I think that fact that half of the ward saw the whole thing happen out of their front windows is the most painful part of all. 

See that black dot on my left hand? Battle wound. I'll never skate again....