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Warning - Some posts may cause choking, spitting of beverage and /or a severe giggle fit. This advice brought to you by regular reader Louisa.

Thursday, 21 October 2010

On Thin Ice





I really am on thin ice today (metaphorically speaking, obviously), because the subject for today's blog is 'ice skating' (my first of five requests from Mark - check out his fabulous Quiddity of Delusion blog, it's awesome *nods*) and I really have no idea what on earth I'm going to come up with.


I had the same problem with the knitting request a few days ago, but I was fortunate enough to remember that google images can be really helpful on certain occasions. I could have gone the same route today, but cheating twice in one week would be a little bit too much, even for me.

I still don't know what to say, though (which you've probably guessed by now, right?).

I've actually tried ice skating a few times, though it's been over a decade since I last had a go (actually, make that almost two decades. Erk. I'm getting old). I mastered the Wobbly Walk - you know, when you put the hired skates on and totter towards the ice - and even did so without falling flat on my face (imagine that!). I ventured onto the ice and watched enviously as my friends scooted off ahead of me, but I never managed to get past the edge of the rink. My fingers stayed attached to the side of the rink as if they had been glued to it. Of course, staying on the outer edge of the rink was a pretty stupid thing to do because the edge is full of lumps and bumps, and for a learner skater, lumps and bumps won't get you anywhere. But as I was far too much of a Scaredy Cat to leave go and have a proper attempt anyway, it didn't matter one way or another.

That's my problem with a lot of things though; I'm so worried about falling/slipping/hurting myself, that I can't relax long enough to attempt anything. I'm such a clumsy person by nature that, as a rule, I tend to avoid anything with wheels (yeah, I know ice skates don't actually have wheels, but you know what I mean).

Honestly, I go flying when I'm running for a bus - can you imagine what would happen if I donned a pair of ice skates? *rolls eyes* Nope, however much I'd like to try it again, I think it would be better all around if I stuck with my trainers...

And that's all I have to say, really. This blog post will have to be short and to the point - rather like my skating history.

6 comments:

  1. Skate little Tara, SKATE! Falling isn't so bad--and you get better, but you can't until you let go of the rail and TRY! (that was all metaphoric, by the way, though I will warn you when I own my island and have my big parties, Stacy is going to make all of us take skating lessons)

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  2. Wonder if anyone would be brave enough to attempt to teach Ms Clumsy Feet skating. It has to be on rollers, though, ice in India would soon melt.

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  3. Same as me, I'm too frightened of falling. Don't say that to a shrink, though, or they'll kick up a stink.

    Thank you for the plug!

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  4. Tami - ha! Loving the metaphorical advice! I guess I should really learn to relax a bit more. It's strange, I'm pretty easy going with everyone as a rule, but when it comes to ME I'm a nut.

    Natasha - Hey, Ms Clumsy Feet is MY name! *snort* Even rollers, which are marginally steadier than ice skates , would be a no-no for me. No way, uh-uh.

    Mark - You're welcome for the plug! I always enjoy rfeading your posts (when I get to them, that is). I really need to get cracking on catching up with all the blogs that I supposingly follow, at the moment I'm reading maybe three or four a day, and hardly commenting at all. I need more time!!

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  5. Oh, and as for shrinks - I'd never disclose half of what my thoughts and fears are, I'd surely be committed. Even *I* know how nutty I am, and that's saying something...

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  6. I've skated twice in my life. Once as a teen with my high school friends and the second time was my son's 9th birthday party at an ice skating rink. That's it. I really don't like to do it myself but I love to watch ice skating competitions.

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