Mmmmm....canpakes....

Happy Shrove Tuesday!
I usually forget that it’s even happening because I’d somehow managed to convince myself that I don’t like pancakes. Surely I was mad! I’m happy to say that I’ve seen the error of my ways and I’ve been making up for it in a very big way.

Matt came home from the supermarket with pancake mix about a week ago, and in true spoilt-brat fashion I had a small tantrum and enlightened him to the fact that pancakes suck. ‘I do NOT like pancakes,’ I told him as I added water, banged the bottle on the counter and proceeded to skake it. ‘And this is why,’ I said, as pancake batter flew around the kitchen from the badly fitting cap.

Anyway…long story short, since the moment I poured the first blob of (lumpy) batter into a lightly oiled pan (or more likely, since I threw that one away and started another, less lumpy one) I’ve developed an insatiable lust for…well…pancakes. And since that moment, I’ve been doing some serious making up for the pancakes that have slipped me by in the past. I’ve gotten through three batches of pancake mix…I’ve had them for breakfast, for dessert, and as a midnight snack. I think I’m in love…





Sod shrove Tuesday…2008 is going to be my year of the pancake. A pancake a day helps me work rest and play, and two or three pancakes is even better!

Thank god for 80s aerobics to work all this batter off my bum. I’m still suffering from horrible ankle blisters from last week (evil trainers of doom) so I’m going to go and treat myself to new ones this afternoon…that’s if I can drag my lardy pancake arse down the hill into town. A feat indeed…

Aerobics take two...

Armed with no less than THREE bottles of powerade (I would breathe this stuff if I could) and dragged by the brutal Hustle’Her, I actually managed to attend aerobics this week (even if it has taken me an age to actually blog this monumentous event). I even managed to be ready on time, which was all the sweeter when Dynomite Bo, Ouija Broad and Chet’s mom all crept in while the rest of us were leaping around like gazelles. Three-legged gazelles!… I say that, but I did quite well. This time round I stood on the floor (and not on my classmates), I grapevined (mostly) in the right direction, and although I got a wicked stitch, there was a distinct lack of chest pain this time round. Now that is progress my friends.

I am surprised to say that I’m really enjoying going…my attention span is absolutely awful so even when I’ve only been doing something for a short while I get impatient. I can’t even watch a half hour TV show without picking up something else to do at the same time. I’ve got to admit, I noticed that there was a clock in the room where we have our class and I did do a bit of clock watching (and maybe I willed it to go a bit faster) but that was when I was preoccupied with my stitch. So yes, normally I’d have given up as soon as it got difficult or I felt uncomfortable, but just like skating, I’m not going to let it beat me! If I’d have done what I wanted to do a year ago and sat on the bench watching, I’d never be where I am now…and I’ve got to remember that in every aspect of my life. Including aerobics!

It’s amazing how Roller Derby can change you for the better…it really does save souls. I’ve always been a bit of a push over, but slowly I’ve learnt to stand up for myself and the things I want, instead of letting other people trample all over my dreams with their own. Quitting the old league was part of standing up for myself. Maybe I'll write about it one day...it'd sure make for interesting reading!

80s aerobics torture

Oh my god...I had no idea what I was letting myself in for last night! The word aerobics conjures up images of ladies with fluffy perms bopping around to music. I went along with the incredibly stupid notion that two hours of pissing round on skates every week makes me anywhere near fit. I even had the cheek to look down my nose at the sleek-tummied aerobics bunnies because I'm a rollergirl! How wrong was I? I mean, we work hard, but we also have water-breaks and drills where some of us get to sit and stretch. We don't spend the whole two hours skating hell-for-leather round the edge of the sports hall til we're on the verge of collapse. Because that's pretty much the equivalent of 80s aerobics!

I totally underestimated how much coordination I'd need, and to begin with I just pranced around at the back of the class trying to do a good impression of keeping up. It wasn't the greatest place to hide...not when I was laughing like a donkey, and especially not when the front of the room was completely mirrored. I grape-vined over a few people's feet, almost took Ouija Broad's eye out on a few occasions and at one point the wall (the metaphorical 'wall'...I'm not that uncoordinated) hit me straight in the face and my feet wouldn't come off the floor anymore, but powerade has life-saving abilities...especially when administered in HUGE doses. I got a second wind from somewhere, but the warm-down couldn't come fast enough for me.

I was disappointed that no one apart from the instructor seems to dress up...I'm going to have to dress up in a non-dressing-up kind of way. I have no idea how I'm going to do this without looking like an idiot, but then again, if I'm willing to walk around a nice family pub dressed in my practice outfit then an aerobics class should be no problem. I make myself look like enough of an idiot as it is with my dodgy moves, lack of concentration and neon pink face, so to be honest my clothes are probably the least of my worries!

Despite thinking 'what the hell am I doing?' many MANY times during the session, it was only 45 minutes, and it'll be easier next time. I hope. Also, I felt brilliant afterwards and it may even encourage me to join the gym...or run...or walk the dog further than the post office (where the chocolate and tattoo mags are). I've put my name down for next week and there's no backing out now :/

And it's only two days til the LRG Bout! Our minibus is packed...the ride down's going to be as much fun as watching Team Black and Team Pink kick each other's asses! I still haven't decided who to cheer for yet. Last bout I supported team Black, but now I've kind of got a thing for pink so it might have to be Team Pink afterall...gah, decisions decisions...

The waiting game...is over

So, I was just about to begin a blog about how I'm waiting waiting waiting to hear back about a job I applied for...but then I clicked refresh on my email browser and there it was. Their reply. Their negative reply.

Disappointed is not the word. UBERDISAPPOINTED comes semi-close to what I'm feeling right now, but I'm sure I'll get over it. I've got an 80s aerobics class later with Ouija Broad, Hustle'her and maybe Dynomite Bo too...I may have to weep on a few shoulders...at least this'll give me the anger to keep going for the whole 45 minutes and not just flake out in a red sweaty heap! I'm not really sure what to expect. The whole '80s' part of it implies dressing up (my main motivation for going, I must admit) and I've got my future outfit already planned, but until I have chance to go shopping I'll probably just wear my gym stuff. I mean, it's practically brand new...