We went skating for the second time.  It was mostly good, but Jake and Bill blew out leaving Jake with a cut and bruised cheek bone.

Bill says he thinks he broke his back in the fall. 

Luckily I didn’t see the incident, but in the thirty seconds it took Bill and Jake to fall and then skate to Beth and I, Jake’s cheek was flaming red and bleeding.

So, Jake sat on my lap in the penalty box and cried a bit and then went back out as agressive as ever.  Which made me happy to see, though I’m a little more leery of the skating thing now.  Just the wimpy Gen-X mother in me, I suppose.

It’s funny though, before we got to the rink, Jake presented every possible way he might get hurt (it would make an eavesdropper how the kid ever actually got out on the ice) wanting reassurance that there’s no way he’ll get hurt.  And I was more than happy to say he’ll never get hurt, because if I’m honest and explore the shady areas of “Well, most likely you’ll never get hurt, but…” then he’d never even get out of the car.

But, as soon as he’s on the ice his eyes lit up and he started running across the ice, he couldn’t go fast enough, pass enough people and joyfully smack me on the butt enough times when he passed Beth and I.

Beth on the other hand has visions of triple axles and triple sow cows while in the car.  Then she’s so much more tentative once we’re there.  Part of her problem is she can’t forgive me for not letting her wear a skirt and tights while skating and spends half her time watching the figure skating, happy skirt wearing, girls in the center of the rink while we circle it at a snail’s pace.

But about half-way through the session she stoped, made me back away and on both feet, she spun herself around.  A triple axel as far as she and I were concerned.

All of this boring family garbage just to say, it makes wonder if this is a reflection of how they’ll approach their lives.  Jake, obsessing about all the negatives until in the midst of some project, then he can’t take enough risks, smiling all the way?

Beth, more cautious, but probablly reaching the same heights as Jake in the end?

I think I’m more like Jake, worrying about things until I reach the edge of the mountain and have no choice but to leap and then its fun.  But I’m also like Beth with the big dreams, imagining myself doing grand things. 

For me, this whole writing thing is a risk.   A quiet little whisper of a risk to most people.  No matter what, I’d be compelled to write, that part’s easy.  What’s hard, what worries me, is the amount of time I take getting this writing to the point of near publication (and publication in the near future, I say). 

I won’t be satisfied with a bunch of binders of unpublished novels in the attic, I know that.  So I don’t have a choice but to pursue this.  But when I think of my house–it could be neater.  My “real career”–I’m getting to the point I might be able to do more (the kids are getting older) How much am I willing to just plow ahead with this writing thing?

I don’t see any choice but to push ahead with it.  The only thing standing between me and publication (beyond essays and articles, I mean) is a little luck.  I’m doing the work and I do think it’s good.  But waiting for the planets to allign, for the moving parts to lock in place.  There’s the risk because I can’t make any of that happen.  So, I’ll risk it. 

How about you.  How would you rate your risk taking life?

 

This will be a bits and pieces post, but I’ll start with two things that my son has recently misunderstood about the world.

First, driving to school there was a commercial on the radio for–or against, really–drinking and driving.  The last sentence said something like “Don’t drink and drive, it might be your friends life you take.”

Jake pipes up with this “You drink and drive all the time, Mom.  It could lead to trouble.”

Well, yes I do drink and drive all the time, I admitted and then I attempted to explain the way some adult drinks make people loopy and unable to function appropriately and those are def. not the drinks I drive with.

Well, how long before I get some odd phone call asking about my drinking problem?

The other thing, was just funny.  In the car after soccer Jake says:  “You know red’s the new black.”

Huh?  I still can’t narrow down where he got that one or what he really thinks it means, but it could make school interesting the next few days.

Now on to sophisticated adult stuff–

Music Videos.

At my gym, there are tv’s on each individual cardio piece of equipment.  There’s a “club video station” that plays various videos plus I can get MTV and VH1 so I get my fill of up to date vids.

And a few oldies.

On the club station, they have a variety everyday.  Today I saw Blondie’s Heart of Glass.  It wasn’t bad, but funny to see what is by today’s standards, almost no production at all.  Just the band singing away.  But the bass player looks seriously bored.  Not an affected bored expression, but truly as though he wasn’t so sure waking up that day and being taped playing Heart of Glass 40 times was what he really wanted to do.

Then the Beatles “I wanna hold your hand” came on.  Good song, holds up.  But the broads in the audience were simply too funny.  They sat nicely in their chairs, bouncing along, a little less lively than your average bobble head, but from their expressions you have to wonder how they managed to contain themselves, managing to exude manners amidst their fervor.  Makes me wonder if it was just copious amounts of drugs that changed the concert scene so fast or did everyone just build up so much seltzer bouncing around, but not really letting it out that the next step was to climb over top of fellow concert goers so to aim one’s bra at the stage from a better angle?   A question for the ages, I must say.

Then.  Then, I really got excited (after a great Train video about a girl who I think died, but is comforting the lead singer from above) when Run DMC’s Walk this WAy featuring Aerosmith came on.  There’s not a better video or song on the market today.  Really, whomever put those two groups together really had his thinking cap on that month.  God, that’s a good one.

And finally.  The song O.P.P.  That song holds up over time, too.  The whole song.  It doesn’t flatten out after a strong beginning and make me yawn like Funky Cold Medina, for instance.  Not that I wouldn’t hop on a bar and do a nice dance to it if I heard it tomorrow.  If I were to drink a glass or two.   

Anyway, I don’t know about your gym, but you ought to request some tvs and club video service. 

And don’t drink and drive. Or wear read thinking it’s the new black.  Black will always be black. 

Get it?

That’s right I’m still stuck for material, so I’ve stolen from The Lipstick Chronicles.  Sara Strohmeyer over there posted about Nancy Martin’s new book called “A Crazy Little Thing Called Death” and the way her total immersion in it caused a few minor, but embarrassing mishaps. 

I went to Nancy’s launch party last night and I can’t wait to dive into the book tonight.  I adore this series, each of the Blackbird sisters and all their troubles.  They are so fun and never fail to make time pass, fast. 

Okay, so I’ve committed to a life of crime and it feels okay. 

So, carry on.

Okay, I know I’m prone to these sudden, bizarre disappearances and I have no good excuse.

Except for my stint in the CIA taking up all my time.  But all that’s behind me and I’m vowing–bound and determined–to put something on my blog even when I can’t think of anything.  LIke now.

Even if I have to steal from other blogsites, I’ll be here.

If I have to slay my relatives with scathing prose, I’ll be here.

You can count on me.

And now for a little sanity and some great writing guidance, visit Judy Schneider’s website called Judy Schneider’s Writing Lab.

She is published widely in non-fiction, including her great selling Frantic Woman’s Guide to Life, and is currently putting the finishing touches on one of her novels.

She’s a great support to me and I credit her highly for helping me get my manuscript (the one that didn’t sell) to the point where I got an agent.  She’s that good, people. 
Stop over there.

Just don’t tell her I’ll be stealing her blog-work for the next few weeks…hehehehehe…

And watch out, the rest of you, too.  Nothing is safe anymore.