ug

Been awake since 4 am. Went to bed at 9 last night so I get what I get, I guess. Duh.
Practice was cancelled by weather and I was so relieved I had about half a gallon of beer and just fell asleep.

I don't know when I last really updated. Derby, derby, derby. It's what I do. They put me on the reception desk at work with no warning and no opportunity to so much as check my own work email for over a week at a time. So obviously they don't take me terribly seriously as a sales person, as they've effectively removed me from contact with my accounts.
Whatever.
It's meant that I've had several hours' worth of free-ish time every day-- interrupted every 5-10 minutes or so, for about a minute each time. Hard to get much done like that. But I've been emailing like a fiend on PR things for the league, writing reports, and generally getting myself in over my head, as I am wont to do. In the worse-interrupty parts, I've been reading blogs like the Derby News Network and catching up on the national and regional aspects of this sport that has consumed my life.
This coming year, there will be a huge East Coast Extravaganza tournament in Philly June 21st-22nd, featuring tournaments with many high-ranked Eastern WFTDA teams as well as a lot of new WFTDA hopefuls-- like us. I hope we can get a squad together for this.

I don't remember Monday of this week. I think Z made tuna casserole for dinner, and I did some laundry, but I really don't remember it. Tuesday we had a PR meeting at 7, to which half the people I wanted to speak didn't show up, and then a Production meeting at 8, which I left after a little bit to go practice. I jammed in the scrimmage, once-- I do not have quite deep enough endurance to be the jammer I want to be, but more importantly, my approach to jamming is just to step out of bounds whenever it's not immediately obvious to me how to get through a pack. Yeah, that's real useful. But I can't figure out how to, well, not do that. (If you're out of bounds you get no points. Also it's a minor foul to skate out of bounds, and a major if you do it inside and cut the track.)
Oh well.
So Wednesday I went to open skate with a lap counter and skated a whole assload of laps. A bunch of my teammates were there, for an impromptu meeting-- mostly, to re-take the headshots I did the other week. Another girl on the team is a great photographer, and was supposed to take our headshots during league practice two weeks ago; I showed up with my camera to help, though I expected that would mean take funny pictures of the process. The other girl, however, didn't show until too late. So I wound up taking all the photos. I don't even remember if I blogged about it, but it stressed me the fuck out. And the photos, as I'd expected, wound up passable but not great. And then, a teammate tactfully managed to reveal, the girls didn't like them but were too worried about offending me to say anything. I said Christ, I never even wanted to take the photos, I'm not surprised they came out awful, go ahead and retake them. So they did that Weds. Meaning I was kinda lonely out there on the rink, but not really. Everyone was cute.
Last night, we got the posters for the bout, and so I was going to have to get home, make some mac and cheese from a box or something because I haven't had time to grocery shop in two weeks and there's nothing in the house, and then go to Kinko's and make copies of the poster to distribute at practice. Meanwhile I'm having minor meltdowns over media relations and a press release I was supposed to have edited by now and wasn't there another ball I was supposed to have been juggling? I swear there were three. Did I drop it? How many weeks ago did I drop it? And where did I leave it? Fuck!
I still don't know, by the way.
So the news that practice was cancelled was such a tremendous relief. Z made beans-n-rice-pilaf (I don't ask, I just eat it, it was good), we split a growler of Flying Bison Oatmeal Stout that's been in the fridge since Thanksgiving (nobody drank it! OMG!), and both of us had passed the fuck out by 9.

of course, I'm too keyed-up to sleep that long. so now it's 5:30 and I've been awake an hour and a half. I bet you, I just fucking bet you, that I will finally get back to sleep at 6:45. (I get up at 7.)

Open skate party Saturday night.
First bout Jan 5th. Refusing to process that in days. It's not that close! Fuck, it's that close.

Oh, and Christmas is in there somewhere. Have I started shopping? No. Fuck. Whatever-- that's not even the ball I've dropped.

I was writing a novel? Was I really? Was that me? HA FUCKING HA. Maybe next year. I mean 2009. 08's booked solid, from this perspective.

amusing vignette

Company owner comes in, the Big Cheese himself. He's a big guy, booming voice, probably in his early 60s, fairly fit, silver ponytail, still physically intimidating, probably six-five and well into the 200s in pounds.
He's carrying a large box that, while awkward, is not too heavy for him to carry-- he's a big fellow, after all.
He sets it down by the reception desk and takes one of the smaller items out of it, then says, mostly to himself, "Better bring the rest upstairs." He hefts the box again.
The production manager walks by, down from the factory on the 4th floor. She's a grandmother in her late 40s or so, about 5 feet even, probably 140 pounds, wearing a bulky gray sweatshirt. She's a rough but capable woman, who manages the work up on the factory floor and does a lot of heavy lifting herself. Her head reaches approximately to his elbow. She looks him up and down as he lifts the box.
"Want me to carry that?" she says.

I don't know, but it really made me giggle. Quietly.