Worst case scenario: Barnes, Noble & Crosby

As a participant in the Barnes & Noble 401(k) plan, I have the right to vote in the annual meeting of stockholders on September 28, 2010. These are the notices I receive every year and promptly ignore. This year, they have launched an aggressive campaign that has made the shareholder meeting impossible to ignore. I have received two phone calls, 3 mailings, and a UPS-delivered letter telling me how important it is that I vote this year because someone named Ronald Burkle is trying to take control of the company. I have no idea what this is all about, so I read each of their pleas for my vote, then I decide to look up Mr. Burkle. I need go no further than Mr. Burkle's Wikipedia page where I find some shocking and horrific information that has suddenly made my decision in this matter very, very simple:

He is part owner of the Pittsburgh Penguins National Hockey League team...

Len Riggio, you have my full support in stopping Mr. Burkle. I only wish you had mentioned his unsavory NHL connections earlier so I could start my own campaign to let all NHL fans (outside of Pittsburgh city limits) know that someone involved with the Pittsburgh Penguins is trying to take over my reputable bookstore. It is my duty to try to put a stop to this and if Steve Riggio agrees to throw down the gloves with Ron Burkle, I might be inclined to go vote in person.

I fully expect Mr. Burkle to lose, whine about it and claim he's entitled, and then demand a recount from the referee.

Reflection and Perspective

I can't remember a time in my life when I didn't know how to read. If you ask my mother, she will probably tell you that as soon as the umbilical cord was severed, I read the hospital chart to learn my last name. Mothers are prone to exaggeration.

Exaggerations and proud parents aside, one of my earliest memories is before I began Kindergarten. The details of my memory are somewhat unreliable, but I believe it was an assessment before I started school. A young woman sat across from me and said, "When I say a word, I want you to repeat after me, okay?" I consented, eager to please. She began, "Okay, repeat after me. DOG." I quickly responded, "D-O-G." For whatever reason, I spelled the word instead of repeating it. As I remember it, it was an automatic reaction to her ridiculously easy exercise, but memory being unreliable I will not count out that this younger version of me was simply trying to show off. It is entirely possible that my aim was to impress the lady.

Whatever my intentions, the thing I remember next is her getting up immediately after I spelled the word and going over to talk to someone else. I was certain that I was in trouble. I hadn't followed directions. I was paralyzed in fear. I had screwed up and not followed directions and now they weren't going to let me into school. Oh how excited I was to finally begin school and right then I had just ruined it with the word dog. (or was it cat? Perhaps I spelled out a dog-cat-house trifecta and sent this woman off in a flurry.) As it turns out, I was not in trouble at all. I had impressed her with my superior spelling skills and the resulting discussion amongst grown ups was to discuss my accelerated reading skills. I was allowed to go to school after all. Kindergarten was a half day, beginning at noon. I spent the following years unable to understand why I couldn't begin every day at noon and revolting against anything that began before 11 a.m. This is something I still struggle with today.

There is a reason I have been reflecting upon my literary beginnings. I have to give credit (or blame?) to my good friend Paul on this one. Paul is an extremely talented writer and he has always encouraged me to continue to write and complimented my abilities to put words together - whether it be on a blog, in a million letters written back and forth, or (ideally) somewhere that people would actually pay money to read what I have written. The latter being unlikely without a great deal of work, I appreciate Paul's nudges to continue to keep my writing skills sharp in whatever way possible. Recently after reading my blog and learning of my financial shortcomings, he sent me words of encouragement. He reminded me to keep writing, and assured me that one day I would look back and see this period of my life as "character building."

I say this with full confidence that anyone who knows me will agree: If I had any more character, I would need to be described as "A character." I have gotten myself into more "character building" situations than I care to admit. But I can't deny that the difficult times have taught me a lot about myself, and those lessons are invaluable. So, considering Paul's advice and encouragement, I began to reflect upon my favorite books throughout my life.

When I consider the most influential books throughout my life, one theme is constantly repeated. Without question, the most inspiring book of my youth was A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. As I read the story of Francie Nolan escaping the realities of her difficult young life through her imagination and love of reading, I escaped my own challenges and awkwardness. I was very young when I read Little Women by Louisa May Alcott and immediately felt a connection to Jo March as she read to her little sisters and felt a passion for writing. In my adult life, I was moved by Frank McCourt's memoir, Angela's Ashes. Again, I felt an emotional connection to the story about someone who survived unimaginable circumstances and poverty by relying on imagination and his natural storytelling ability. All of these books have such a special place in my heart, and each of them tells the story of someone who survives poverty by relying upon the strength of family, and the power of imagination.

As desperate as my financial situation feels, my life is privileged when compared to my literary heroes. To compare my challenges to theirs (and their respective authors) even in my current situation would be to celebrate my own prosperity. I may whine about my well-being, but I am far from tearing down the ceilings in my apartment to keep the fire going for heat. I face challenges, but I can not describe myself as suffering. For this, I gain strength from the perseverance shown by the characters in these books. And like them, I gain strength from the people around me.

I would never have had the courage to move to Washington, D.C. on my own and pursue a career if I did not have the strength of my friends and family back home. Sometimes the word "friends" is not strong enough, and the people in my life can only be described as family. Now that I am here, it is the new friendships I have made that encourages me to stay and find fulfillment in D.C. Even if it means working seven days a week, trying to climb a ladder that often doesn't appear to have steps, and to do whatever it takes to keep afloat in difficult financial times. It has been difficult, nearly impossible, to live within my means in my current situation. It is difficult when you don't have enough money to make ends meet. But I would not trade the people in my life for all the money in the world. My financial situation is coming together and will eventually be in order. I can live with these months of sacrifices and I can even stay positive if I keep reminding myself to rely on those two important things. The support of the people around me, and the power of the imagination. As long as I have my friends and family, I will never be alone. As long as I have my imagination, I will never be bored. Sometimes I just need to remind myself never to take either of those things for granted. And sometimes I need Paul to remind me. Thanks, Paul. And thanks to all of the people I am incredibly blessed to have in my life: My friends, my family, and my books.

Go ahead. Laugh!

I paid $11.57 for all of this food. In Washington, DC. Coupons are not just for soccer moms anymore, the student-loan-indebted are jumping on the bandwagon! (We prefer the term frugalista.)

For sale: Pride, Social Life, Socks

No fooling, this summer really is going by fast. Last month I wrote about my coming to terms with my student loan debt and deciding to live within my means. I'm happy to say that I've been consistent with that goal, but sad to say that it's going to be a long, long road. Here's an update as to how it's going:

I have always had a second job on the weekends. (Seriously, always! I can't remember when I ever had only one job.) So, I've taken on more weekend hours to try and make ends meet, but I question if this is a productive use of my time. I make a decent hourly wage, but still - it's an hourly wage at a retail store. It's fun because it's unpredictable. It's just not as much fun as, say, going to that movie I was invited to on Sunday. Or, going away to the beach for Labor Day weekend. (although I don't know how good of an idea that would be anyway. Thanks, Earl!) Or, if I was really doing well, I could even make it to watch two of my good friends get married back in Iowa City next month. Unfortunately, knowing all of my other options makes the shifts at the bookstore a bit depressing. Still, not as depressing as not being able to pay the rent. So there is that.

Also last month I received an eBay offer that will allow me to list up to 100 items between August 22 and September 7th with no listing fees. This is a great deal! Usually if you list something on eBay, even if it doesn't sell you are still stuck paying the listing fee - which can be anywhere from $.10 to I don't know how many dollars, depending on how much you ask for when you start the auction. I decided to take eBay up on this generous offer and I am going to sell 100 items. Well, I'm going to list 100 items. I don't know if they'll sell. I think by the time I get to item number 100 the title may be, "Box of keys that I don't know what they go to." Or, "Five socks I can not find the match to. Makes a great gift!!" So far I've listed over 60 items and I still have 40 left to go. I haven't even started to dig through my clothes yet, so I think I will spend Monday ransacking my apartment looking for things that I don't need. I think it has served me well to create a goal of 100 items. It seems like a lot, but I have so many books and movies that those will take up a good chunk. I also listed some back issues of magazines (and even sold a few!) and I found all kinds of things I don't use any more and they have been sitting around being ignored. Some of the DVDs I sold were hard to part with and I'm sure some of the remaining 40 items will be things I don't necessarily want to get rid of. But if I'm not using it, I may as well sell it. The goal of 100 items has also made me realize how much crap I have. I have a lot of stuff. So far I have $130 in my Paypal account and over $50 due from buyers who have not yet paid. I have a credit card with a revolving balance of $500 and I decided I'm putting every cent of the eBay money toward that one credit card. It would be slick if I could get $500 total for this junk and get rid of one burden in my life. Unfortunately I will be lucky if I get half of that. Still, it's progress. Plus, it will keep me from what could have been a potential career as a hoarder. So there's another side benefit of selling everything. There's always a bright side!

Along with the part-time job and the eBay goal, I have cut an unbelievable amount of spending in my life. I truly appreciate all of the bloggers out there who write about being frugal and spending money. I would list some of them here, but there are too many to list. I've been using an embarrassing amount of coupons for a young hipster, but it's really paid off. There are many blogs out there who are dedicated to matching up weekly grocery ads with coupons available. This makes using coupons so much less time-consuming! It works, too. This week I went to Safeway and came home with a loaf of bread, a bag of salad mix, three bananas, three bags of instant potatoes, two 12-oz. packages of Kraft singles, 8 individually wrapped packages of Lance crackers, 10-oz. Teriyaki sauce, four 8-oz. bags of Teddy Grahams, and a box of frozen pretzels for a total of $11.57. According to the receipt, I saved $25.60 between sale items and coupons. It's kind of amazing to see how much money you can save, but it does take a good amount of effort to plan ahead and it takes an even greater amount of humility to stand with a line of people behind you and having the cashier scan coupon- after coupon- after coupon. It doesn't feel quite as cool as hanging out at a happy hour and socializing with friends, but trust me - it comes at a fraction of the cost. The amount of money I've saved by cutting out drinking in bars and bringing my lunch every day to work is amazing. It's no wonder I ended up in this situation to begin with. I should have been doing this a long time ago. Perhaps I would not have ended up in this situation to begin with. But then, I'd be pretty miserable if I had always been this boring. It's the memories of shenanigans with friends that motivates me to get caught up on bills and enjoy my social life again. Anyway, I've found some great ways to cut corners and I think I may have to share them on this blog over the next few months. Even if I end up increasing my income like I need to, I'll still have to stay frugal through the end of the year. Which means I'm thinking about Christmas presents already and if you're on my Christmas list, you should begin not getting your hopes up immediately.

Where did July go?

Is it just me, or did there used to be a month between June and August? I remember it was called July and it was a fairly long month - one of those with 31 days. What ever happened to July? Did we skip it this year? It seems like it was just a month ago that I was freaking out at work over a huge project due on the first week of June. Now my calendar is telling me that Sunday is August 1st. Am I being punk'd? Did I buy a faulty calendar? Seriously, what happened to July?

I know this happens every summer. We say things like, "Summer went by fast this year" or "I don't remember it being this hot last year" or "Can you please remove your stroller from the top of my foot?" Oh no, wait - that last one is what I said this morning on the Metro train. It's tourist season again in DC!!

I wish I could tell you that the reason I haven't updated my blog much lately is because I'm living a super-exciting life in the fast lane. Well, I guess I could tell you that, but it would be a lie. It's quite the opposite, actually. I recently sat down and went over my budget and realized I've been living above my means. I am grateful to have a reliable source of income during these troubled times, but I recently took a good hard look at the bottom line and had to admit: it's time to come to terms with my student loan debt. It was much easier to defer the loans and ignore the interest statements. But it is a heavy weight on my shoulders and as long as I keep going out and spending money on other things, I'm always going to be carrying around the stress and pressure of debt.

I find myself in the same situation as many college graduates. The burden of student loan debt is incompatible with starting level wages. Add to that the fact that the last thing I want to do when I'm still young is to work hard and deny myself a social life so that I can make a dent in my loans. I think the grace period for student loans should be ten years before you even begin to pay them off. Of course this would kill you with the interest on them, but most college graduates still live like college students for several years after they get out of school. We eat the same ramen noodles, keep the same hand-me-down furniture, and most people I know that are a few years out of school still ask their parents for money. [note: As a general rule I do not ask my parents for money. That said: If my parents are reading this and wondering, I wouldn't turn it down if you offered.]

I am trying hard not to feel resentment toward my student loans and I would love to hear from anyone who has been through this and has stories to share about their experiences. I borrowed the money with full knowledge that I had to pay them back. I watched all the mandatory videos and read all the terms before I signed. I take responsibility and I am grateful for many things in life. I'm grateful for my current job security and I'm grateful that I was able to finish college and earn a degree. I realize that not everyone can say that. Now, I just need to figure out how to put it all in perspective and make a dent in my loans, pay the rest of my bills, and still maintain a social life. I was invited to a DC United game recently and I would have loved to go, but I had to decline the invitation. My standard answer is going to become, "I can't make it this time, but perhaps when I'm fifty..."

Keywords: Sharp, piercing, excruciating ear pain

When I sit down to write in this blog, I generally expect the readers will be my friends and family, or maybe some folks suffering from severe boredom. I'm always delighted to find out that someone new stumbles upon the blog randomly, but when I sit down to write, usually I expect it will be seen by a modest audience of a few regular readers. Well, tonight's blog is a little different. Tonight I'm writing for new people who are searching for the following keywords:
ear pain
sharp, piercing pain in ear
icepick stabbing sensation
excruciating ear pain
worse pain I've ever felt in my life
OMG my ear hurts so bad I want to curl up in a ball and cry
Will someone please tell me what the hell is causing the worst pain I've ever experienced!?!

Some time ago, I was having the absolute worst pain I have ever felt before or since. I had no idea what was causing it, and doctors could find nothing wrong. I spent hours on the internet trying to self-diagnose and found hundreds of things it could have been, but I didn't find any helpful information until I had talked to four different doctors and knew exactly what to type into a google search: TMJ

I went through hell trying to find out what was causing my pain. It would be accurate to describe it as feeling like someone is driving an icepick into my eardrum. Any time I would smile, chew, or move my mouth or ears in any way, spontaneous profanities would erupt from my mouth because the pain was so bad. I was actually worried when it happened at work because the stabbing pains would be so sudden that I couldn't help my outbursts. Imagine if you were to accidentally smash your fingers with a hammer, or slam them in a car door. Those words that would come out of your mouth... those were coming from me every time I smiled, coughed, or turned my head around too quickly. It was hell. And a recurring, unpredictable hell at that.

After a few episodes, I went to my doctor and he couldn't find anything wrong. He gave me some ear drops for the pain and said my ears looked fine. There was no sign of infection or any trace of what was causing the pain. He recommended I come back mid-earache so he could look while I was experiencing the pain. Of course, this always happened on evenings or weekends. He recommended an ear, nose & throat doctor for me to see. I made an appointment and the specialist said the same thing. Nothing looks wrong with my ears, come back when I'm having the problem.

The next time I had an earache was around 7:00 on a weeknight so I went to a Minute Clinic that was open until 8:00. I was about to pass out from the pain, but I walked my swearing self over to the clinic and had her look in my ears. Nothing. There was no sign that anything was wrong. Other than the tears streaming from my eyes and me talking through clenched teeth to try not to aggravate the pain. She prescribed me a different brand of ear drops and told me to go back to the ENT when I was experiencing the pain so they could take a closer look.

The ENT had me get a full CT Scan of my sinuses so they could see if that gave any evidence of what was happening. Again, there appeared to be nothing abnormal in the results. This went on for months. Twice a week I would feel a sudden pain in my ear and would have to lie as still as possible. I would lay down on my right side (it was almost always my left side in pain, but sometimes both.) Eventually I would pass out and fall asleep and the pain would be gone when I woke up. Usually. Sometimes I still felt a dull pain the next day.

Finally I had an earache in the afternoon, abandoned my job and headed for the ENT. I screamed as he looked in my ears because any movement to that ear would cause stabbing, excruciating pain. Even when I stepped off the curb, the motion from hopping down from the curb prompt a stabbing pain. He looked into my ears, I screamed like a banshee, he put down his instruments and told me everything looked fine. He could find nothing that could be causing me any pain at all, let alone the kind of pain that caused a scream that rattled the windows of his office. It was that point when he referred me to an Oral Surgeon because I may have Temporomandibular Joint Disorder: TMJ (or TMD.) He explained that the pain may feel like it's in my ear canal, when really it's in my jaw at the joint. In the neighborhood, but not even close to being the same thing.

As soon as he told me what may be causing the pain (and taught me how to spell it) I knew that's what was happening. The first painful episodes began after I had some extensive dental work, and I could connect the worst episodes to other activities that could cause a strain on the jaw muscles. Doctors had been poking, prodding and violating my ears, but could never see the problem because it was below the surface. That also explained why smiling or laughing would make things worse. Any time the joint moved, the pain would flare up again. It suddenly all made sense.

I was referred to an Oral Surgeon who asked some basic questions and took some x-rays. He said there could be treatment for the joint, but it was a last-resort measure. He put me on a diet of only soft foods for one month. Really soft. Ridiculously soft. I lived on mashed potatoes and applesauce for 30 days, suppressed my yawns, and basically did everything I could to keep my joints relaxed so they could recover. I kept my mouth shut for thirty days, and I am happy to say - it worked!

It's been a year and now that I know the source of the pain, I take extra caution not to put a strain on my jaw. I have gone to the Dentist three times since then and each time I reminded them of the TMJ and they let me rest my jaw so it's not open at full hinge the whole time. I don't chew gum, I don't eat anything that involves excessive masticating, and if I start to feel some pain coming on in that area, I immediately grab the ibuprofen to try and keep the pain at bay. In the last year I have had a bit of pain in the joint, but nothing like what I had been experiencing. Thank heaven for that because that kind of pain is intolerable, especially when it's as unpredictable as it was.

Other than the ibuprofen, it didn't take any surgery or drugs, but only a change in behavior to keep the worst pain imaginable from coming back. That is the reason I am writing this blog. I am not exaggerating when I say that I scoured hundreds of web pages, desperately trying to learn what could possibly be causing my intense pain. I found a few medical message boards, some of them were four years old, but most of the people writing about the symptoms were folks like me who were looking for a diagnosis - and then responses by people offering dozens of possible causes. I apologize to the regular readers if you've made it through this entire entry and feel like you're in a nursing home listening to people ramble on and on about their ailments. I know it's not interesting, but it's important to me. I needed to put my experience out on the web, just for the possibility that someone with the same symptoms may read this during a desperate google search like I performed so many times. Self diagnosis is not always recommended, but in this case all it took for me was to eat soft foods and relax my jaw to stop the most excruciating pain of my life. If you stumbled upon this blog because you were experiencing the same symptoms I was, reach for the mashed potatoes and applesauce for a while. Give your joint a rest for 30 days and if you see a remarkable improvement, you may have just learned something it took several months, numerous doctors, and too many incorrect diagnoses to discover.

DC Hawkeye on Ice

I love hockey. There are few things I love more than hockey, but I should clarify: There are few things I love more than watching hockey. I have never played hockey. Despite my predisposition toward anything involving humiliation and/or physical injury, I've never even strapped on a pair of skates. It's something I've wanted to do for years and have talked to friends about going out and doing, but it just never got done. Until today.

This time I didn't even try to sucker anyone into going with me, I decided to go to Kettler after work and find out what I'm made of.

The timing wasn't random, it was actually inspired by this article in yesterday's Washington Post Express about a hockey "skills & drills" class. The part that captured my interest was how they describe that the class "...takes anyone who can skate and teaches them how to hustle a puck." That sentence alone got me into a pair of rented ice skates 24 hours after reading. Having "learn how to skate" on my to-do list is one thing, but considering that to be the only thing standing between me and learning some mad puck-handling skills is another thing altogether. Learning to skate is no longer the goal, it's the annoying precursor to the awesomeness of me actually playing hockey someday. Heck, I play in a skeeball league, hockey is the next logical step, right?

So, a few hours after I read the article I began looking online for places that have beginners lessons on how to skate. There are a few places in the area, but it looks like my best bet if I want to start learning ASAP is in Rockville. They have a six-week class that began on May 15th, but I can still sign up having missed the first class. I was ready to do it, but I thought it would be best to head out to Kettler and find out exactly what I'm dealing with here. I mean, if I break my ankle during my first class, then I've wasted a lot of money! I want to know I'll be able to make it five weeks. Naturally, I headed out to Kettler so I could break my ankle tonight with less financial burden.

I didn't break the ankle after all, though I expect it will be a bit swollen tomorrow from all the wobbling.

This was a very difficult thing to do by myself. I knew that I could have found someone to go with me sometime this week, but I was on a mission. I had to do it today while I was making up my mind about the classes in Rockville. I arrived at the adult public skate as the Zamboni was resurfacing the ice. Then I watched a line of adults skate out onto the rink. Some were off to the side working on various skills, but most of them were skating laps around the ice. It was very much like the roller skating rink. Everyone skates in a circle at various speeds. I asked the girl at the skate rental counter, "I have never skated before. Would it be a horrible idea to go out there right now, never having any lessons, not knowing what I'm doing?" She thought it was a great idea. "You're never going to learn anything until you get out there." Damn her and her skating wisdom! I half wanted her to talk me out of it. She did the opposite of talking me out of it. She encouraged me.

Not only did the girl at the rental counter encourage me, but she was extremely helpful. She gave me some tips - told me to try figure skates first, rather than hockey skates. She showed me the different blades and explained how you have to balance your center of gravity differently on hockey skates and it's harder to do if you're skating for the first time. She told me not to try and use the toepick to stop, and then (bless her heart) when I told her my shoe size, she examined all of the skates to find a good, sharp blade. She told me where the lockers were and sent me on my way.

I was surprised at how well I stayed balanced on the skates, but that didn't stop me from clinging to the boards for dear life. I recognized one of the guys as a Kettler employee and asked him for pointers. He was so unimpressed with me. "I can't, I've got to watch the skate." I explain, "Oh no, I'm not asking you to 'show' me anything, I just don't know how to get started. How long of a stride I should take, how to lean, that sort of stuff. You don't have to show me, just tell me how to push off." He was unflinching: "Ehhhhh, I'm not an instructor." I was obnoxious: "But you know how to skate!" The best I could get out of him was that the instructors say to stride about the same as walking, and to hang onto the sides all the way around the rink if I have to. Thanks! I hope no shenanigans went on during the public skate while you took the time to talk to me!

I kid the skate supervisor, but I did heed his advice about hanging onto the sides. I stayed within an arm's length of the boards at all times. It was like training wheels. I'd get going for a while and then I would wobble and catch myself. I think the ice along the sides may have been harder to skate on because there were so many grooves already in the ice that I could feel myself skating in and out of divots, which made it harder to maintain my balance. In the endzones there were a lot of people working on various skills, so it was considerably more embarrassing to make my way around the corners because people had to get out of my way. It was pretty clear that I was going to keep my grip and was not going to go around them. (For their own safety, really. If they're standing between me and the ledge, I'm still gonna grab the closest thing to me when I lose my balance. Better to be the boards than them!)

I took a couple of laps and each time I was interrupting the same people who were camped out along the endzones. They were not hanging on for safety as I was, they were working with other people on specific skills. Two girls looked like they were doing some kind of ballet moves and using the ledge as a barre. They did not much care for my intrusions. In fact, many of the people looked annoyed as I made my laps. I came around the corners very apologetically and poking fun at myself while letting them know it was my first time. Everyone was accommodating and usually nice about it. It still didn't stop some people from scowling at me. I began to wish I had worn an eye patch, or something that would immediately make them feel sympathetic toward me or think that something was wrong with me so they would be more patient. If I had some deformity, or was wearing a head brace or neck brace or something, I think I would have gotten a warmer response from other skaters. I didn't have anything to outwardly evoke sympathy. I could never fake something like that and my actual physical shortcomings wouldn't have warmed anyone up to my strugles. For example, if I had skated by shouting, "Asthmatic, coming through" or, "Pardon me, I have irritable bowels" as I plowed through the arena. Nope, I'm just a regular person with regular problems, who just happens to not have a clue how to skate.

I took three good laps and it started to get easier until the Kettler employee who is not an instructor blew the horn and everyone began to skate the opposite direction. This was a game-changer. Up until then I felt like I was making progress with my right hand out to steady myself, grabbing the boards when I slipped up (which became less and less frequent.) When we switched directions, I had to use my left hand to catch myself, and that was much harder to keep steady. After one more lap I knew it was time to quit. If I sign up for lessons in Rockville, my first class will be this Saturday and I didn't want to push myself harder and put more strain on my poor ankles before then. Plus, the exasperated looks of the other skaters was beginning to make me feel self conscious. My Midwestern sensibilities recognized these two rules of thumb: Don't beat yourself up before you even begin, and don't wear out your welcome. It was definitely time to go.

I returned to the skate rental counter and my friend from earlier was at another counter talking to coworkers. I called her over and she asked if I was trading the skates for another size, I said, "No, I'm done. I'm turning them in." She said, "Oh. You can just leave them on the counter." I was hoping she would ask how it went and talk to me some more about how to get used to skating. Instead, she pretty much told me that I had called her over there for no reason. She was so over me. It was time to go.

I'm going to keep at it and eventually it will get easier and the wobbling will stop. After that, I'll move on to the new challenges of trying to learn how to handle a puck. It's times like this when I wish I could be a kid again. Trying new things is so much easier before we learn the concept of humiliation.



Sign in time: 8:02 p.m.



Sign out time: 8:25 p.m. That includes the time it took to rent the skates, get some pointers, and get a locker. I must have been on the ice only 15 minutes but it felt so much longer!