Less clueless every week

I'm not willing to say I'm getting this, but I am willing to say I'm less clueless. At least this week... It was my birthday - I guess that's my present.

Damnit, work is really putting a crimp in my skating schedule. Blasted early morning conference calls. I decline most of them, but enough get through that I end up missing skating. No wonder so many in my age group are getting fat. Who has time to exercise?

I had another ego-positive lesson this week. I thought I was getting the hang of the backwards crossover "thing" and turns out, I was right. I think Will was pleasantly surprised. I've got more stuff to work on now. He's starting to throw step combinations at me to practice transitions and form. Now it's chasse-swingroll over and over and over and over again... Probably out of sheer malice, he showed me BACKWARDS chasse's this week as well - yet another move that my feet simply refuse to understand. Needless to say, I spend the second half of my lesson wildly flapping my arms while going backwards and trying desperately NOT to fall on my ass.... lord only knows if I was anywhere even CLOSE to that "backwards chasse". I am just happy I didn't break anything.

Blue continues to be the bane of my existence. This week it was chest, and by Friday evening I couldn't carry anything with both hands without screaming at the top of my lungs from the pain. You know, opera training really shows when it comes time to scream. I'm sure I can be heard with perfect clarity in North Dakota. I bet I caused a sheep stampede that even now the ranchers are trying to understand.

515 days to the Gay Games. It's gonna be a race to see whether I'm actually DOING anything by then or not... that, and not in a cast from some technicolor wipeout.

God help my first partner.