Time Marches On

Lately I have been more critical of my aging self.  Realizing that having a high schooler means that I have also marched through time.  Noticing deeper wrinkles and more greys.  I dive into body and age positive blogs and articles trying to learn to embrace it rather than get upset. 

So far, there are more days that I feel content with it and do my best to live in the present and relish in the now...which is a whole ‘nother ball o’ wax...but I like to think the progress is there and most days, I can appreciate what time has decided to do to me.  Every line has a story, right? 

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#timemarcheson #bodypositive #agepositive #growingup

Why are kind acts surprises?

It seems whenever there are acts of kindness, no matter how small, they come as a surprise to people who receive them.  Just today I offered to get a shopping cart for a woman who didn't want to approach the construction zone that they were located near.  No biggie, right?  Well, she was waiting for me inside the store to tell me she was grateful and that she has rarely been treated with such kindness.  Wha?  Hold up.  That disturbs me, yet I know it to be more often than not...true.  People really are in their own world and not aware of, or not willing to reach out with kindness or courteousness.  Even the most simple gesture, a smile.  Many don't even make eye contact, let alone greet you with a smile.  I know it's scary out there and trusting or greeting strangers isn't always a wise course, but it makes me sad that even the most trivial of kindnesses is actually shocking.  The other day a man held the door for me..and guess what?  I was surprised.  Yep, I am just as guilty of not expecting people to be nice.  Sad, really.  And I have had my efforts to be kind backfire and the person turns out to be a total douche - irreverent, rude, and entitled - like I'm their servant.  Yuck.  But I digress...my point is that I will continue to be kind and reach out and smile at you.  I will offer you a cart, hold the door open, let you go in front of me in line with fewer items than my motherload of groceries.  I will allow you to cross the street without exuding searing irritation.  I will let you know your haircut is cute and tell you to hang in there if your kids are wreaking havoc in the freezer isle.  At times, people have done so for me and it has meant everything in that moment and well beyond.  Maybe it will mean everything to someone else too.

It's a Me Day

Me day, as defined by Urban Dictionary:
A day that's all about you... relax, eat, watch tv, and be lazy. Doing the fun things you want to do.
Refreshing to do after a prolonged work week and/or having little days off.
Jeff worked 50 hours this week... so on his day off he decided to have a Me day.

 I declared today a "me day".  This morning after all the duties had been done to get everybody out the door, I turned to my husband and said OUTLOUD that I was going to make today about myself.  Self care, they say, is essential.  I'll buy that for a dollar.  So, I put a little more creamer in my coffee, spent a little more time indulging in my iPad games and social media, and stayed in pajamas.  I run 3-4 miles about 4 times a week and I was going back and forth about going out today, but I was inspired by a recent conversation I had about AvaLanche.  AvaLanche, is my treasured Roller Derby identity.  Long since retired, but still in love with the sport, and truth be told you never really leave.  So I decided to skate my run today.  After all, it's a "me day" and skating is FUN!  Best. Decision. Ever.  Mind you, I was rusty and played it safe by sticking around my nicely paved neighborhood.  Definitely reminded me that skating is a lot of work and I loved it!  Oh yea, that's why I was in the best shape of my life in derby.  Anyways, super sweaty and tired muscles and I feel like me again. 

If you have been feeling like you're on a hamster wheel, I highly recommend a "me day".  Maybe even just a "me morning".  Try to remember things that make you tick that you don't get to do everyday and go do that.  It's good.  Mine isn't event halfway done and I already feel like I have shed the shroud of monotony.  So dramatic, I know.  Let the reminders lead you somewhere fun.  It's worth it.  Now, I'm gonna binge watch something on Netflix.

Be Kind, Rewind.

Last year, an incredible thing happened.  I was in line to pay for my order, piled high with school supplies and back to school necessities. A woman lined up behind me.  I must have clearly looked overwhelmed and nervous because she smiled and said quietly, "back to school is stressful, isn't it?"  I nodded and let out a huge sigh.

Here's the thing.  Finances were tight and when your kids ask for ALL THE THINGS and you have to say no to most...well, back to school sucks.  I wanted to get them the new things. The backpack that files your homework (If only, right?).  The shoes that "everyone has, Mom."  The top of the line pens and those cool doodads that make going back to school a little less dreadful. *Sigh* Well, I couldn't do that for them.  They got what they needed, which was fine, but not as much fun.  They smiled weakly and finally stopped asking.  *Sigh*  It's hard.  But, I know they are learning budgeting and financial responsibility watching their dad and I make important choices about how we spend the money we earn.  But, that's a entirely separate story.

So the incredible thing...this woman, who had so aptly identified me as fried and a little sad.  This woman, she says: "You know, I would like to pay for your order today.  I would like to share my gifts with you and help."  The boys' eyes flared open with wonder.  I just started crying.  I tried to say "no" because it was just too generous.  It was too much.  She was so gentle, but so very insistent.  I tried to get her name and she, with a huge smile, said, "just someone who wants to do something nice for someone else."

I left the store in disbelief.  Did that just happen?  Was this a joke and someone is pranking me?  The boys were busy chattering back and forth about this crazy thing that just happened and how Mom cried in the checkout line.  I vowed to return the favor and do the same for someone else.

Time passed, and I would think about it and then forget when I was in line.  Again and again, I would remember after it was too late.  Not today.  Today, I remembered.  And it was incredible.

I ran out to the store to grab a few things before I picked up my son from his magical second day of school.  I got in line and there was a elderly man looking for the right line to get into.  I watched him try to choose three different lines, all to be cut off and stared down by other, more "aggressive", shoppers.  I signaled for him to come over to my line.  "You're welcome to jump in front of me," I said.  He looked shocked.  I waved for him to come over and moved my cart to let him in.  *ZING*  I got butterflies and I REMEMBERED!  Yes!  This is the one I need to pay for his order and return the generous gesture of that kind woman!!  This is it!  I said, "you know, someone did a really wonderful thing for me and I would like to do the same for you.  Would you allow me to pay for your order today?"  He said, "it's more than I think you should spend on a stranger."  "No," I said.  "It's meant to be and it's good."  The cute thing was that it really was a modest order.  He told me that he was celebrating his wedding anniversary tonight and wanted to get her some special treats.  I was SO EXCITED to hear this and learned that his name was Chuck.  He and Marlene were celebrating their anniversary together and I was so happy to help make it special.

Repaying the kindness took some turnaround time, which I believe was part of the plan.  Today I got to feel the joy that the kind stranger felt, who was "just someone who wants to do something nice for someone else."  How often we forget that being kind, in any way, can have such a fabulous ripple effect.  From a simple smile, a genuine compliment, lending a helping hand, or paying for someone's order, it just might be the very moment that they most need your random act of kindness.

Be kind, Rewind.

Just keep swimming...

I used to see it as a chronic pathology.  I always felt like it was wrong, the way I moved on from things.  Like I should stay with it until it or I die.  Recently, I have come to see it differently...and I call it moving forward.

I don't hold still...literally and figuratively.  My dad told me once that I would start with reorganinzing my room; the drawers, the accessories, then the furniture.  He said once I ran out of things to organize, I would look at my life and start reorganizing that.  Start school, new career, new hobby...you get the idea.  I have always had a tendency to establish a goal, reach it, and then Move On...sometimes it meant leaving that thing behind.  For a long time I think that I was a little reluctant to actually reach my goals for fear that I would then need to move on from it.  I would reach my goal and then move on, and on some level I thought that was wrong.  It made people nervous and they would ask questions and ask me to think more about it before I decided.

For the longest time I have felt guilty about moving on.  I played competitive soccer, I moved on. I got my bachleor's degree, I moved on. I got my masters degree,  I moved on. I became a successful independent sales director, I moved on.  I played roller derby, I move on (*one of the more challenging moves, I must admit).  I got my RVT license, and I moved on...see a pattern?

So I would always feel bad because I think I really thought people expected me to stay in the same spot.  First point, no one is thinking that hard about me, right? (How vain can I really be?)  Second, why would it matter?  I'm continually moving on because I'm moving forward. I'm growing and I'm changing.  Maybe some people don't do that.  I realized, I don't have to feel bad about what I'm not currently doing, because I did it for that time and it serves it's purpose and it made me who I am right now.  And right now is good.  Really GOOD!

The best thing about each and every thing that I moved on from is that I did it with every ounce of me. I put 120% into every single thing I choose to pursue.  And that, right there, is all there is to consider.  It's not pathological, because there isn't a single thing wrong with the pursuit of growth.

So, as I continue to move on...I will continue to grow, explore, and become.  So much better than pathological, don't you think?

Adventures in Roller Derby: Episode 4, Finding happy without derby?

     "You have to stop looking for happiness in the same place you lost it."  I read this today and it struck a chord.  You know when you hear something and you shrug and nod in recognition of its validity...then you move on.  Well, those messages usually have a way or resurfacing or reappearing, until you get it.  The messages we ignore often tend to be the ones we SHOULD be hearing and learning from.

     As is the case today. I saw the above sentiment written this morning and I immediately was reminded of a woman over a year ago who told me, "roller derby made you happy, but now...having to retire...you have to find a new avenue to happy.  You can't find the same happy in the place you lost it."  Yea, yea...I nodded in acknowledgement, while really just ignoring the idea that I really had to move on from roller derby.  But now, the message is here again.  It has reappeared.  Apparently, I need to listen and explore the idea that I need to look for happy in something else.

      Now, for roller derby, that could mean many things.  Although I can't bout, I can officiate or continue to support the league as a coach, support staff, or fan.  I see skaters do that all the time.  There are countless ways to be involved in derby.  I mean, countless.  Mascot? Announcer?  Yup.  And I tried.  I really did.  I jumped into becoming a referee with all my guts and wanted it to work.  I got to skate and be involved in the sport I adore.  I participated in trainings and clinics and reffed a few bouts, too.  I was a baby ref and I threw myself in, but I wasn't happy. I was jealous of the skaters when I worked as a ref or NSO (non-skating official), and reffing was much more challenging than you can imagine. (See my post titled: Adventures in Roller Derby: Episode 3, Officially Official) I wasn't ready for it, and as much as I wanted it to work, I wasn't ready. I would think about derby all the time and ultimately end up shying away from getting involved again, because it made me so sad.  I thought I would try a drop in skate and feel the thrill of skating and support the league as a fan.  I never made it.  I thought perhaps I would make a great announcer and reached out to my favorite announcers for resources and insight.  I haven't held a mic.  I asked about helping the coaching staff.  I never followed through.  And I still haven't attended a bout.  I hid a lot of derby feeds on my Facebook page.  I avoided wearing derby t-shirts, so I wouldn't have to explain that I wasn't skating anymore.  Why?  What am doing?  How can I have done a complete 180 and turn my back on this sport that changed my life?

     First, you must know that derby is all consuming.There is a joke that derby is a "jealous lover".  Derby will always want more of you and you will never have free time.  It consumes you.  It's all derby all the time.  And IT. IS. TRUE.  Derby becomes a part of every fiber of your being.  The joys and trials are addicting and magical.  Like, Unicorns and rainbows, magic.  For real.  When derby wasn't there...I had more time for my family and other passions and I think I liked that.  Second, the reality of retiring from roller derby ended up being more emotionally complicated and painful than the physical side effects the sport bestowed.  It hurt to see my comrades skate and play.  It hurt to answer questions about my beloved sport.  It hurt to see Rollercon 2014 come and go without me.  It hurt to let my WFTDA insurance lapse.  The more time passed the more final my dissociation from derby became a reality.  I stopped making excuses to people for why I hadn't showed up to skate or sign up to ref.  Actually, I just avoided most people that knew derby and I had once been having a decadent affair.  I love that sport.  But, I couldn't pretend that I was still there...like a creepy ghost.  I missed my derby sisters more than you can imagine, but it hurt more to see them. *sigh* So, there it is.  The real truth about it.  I can't be around derby because I'm still mourning the loss.  AvaLanche #00.  I miss that gal.  She was funny and strong.  I miss derby.  I miss the rush of conquering something on skates and growing.  With all the good and bad, derby changed me forever.  I have read countless blogs on skaters retiring, and although they offer true insight into how hard it is to retire, I haven't found one that offers much consolation because few discuss the fact that sometimes you don't stay involved and derby becomes a part of your PAST.  Will I ever go back?  Can I make the re-commitment to being consumed? Then, I am reminded that I have serious issues with my knees, even if they have improved with my "medical retirement" hiatus...they are still the same messed up knees.  I vacillate weekly.  It's maddening and I wish sometimes I would just shit or get off the pot.  In fact, last Saturday my son had a soccer game and the field happened to be right next door to where my league practices AND it happened to the same time they practice.  Should I go?  Pick the scab, so to speak?  You all know me.  Of course I went!  I watched for a few minutes while the beautiful ladies ran a pace line with a hitting drill.  My heart raced and sank at the same time.  I want that again...but how?  Yup.  Here we go again, the same back and forth.  

     All that, and you are probably wondering when this is going to come back around to the concept of looking for happiness in different places.  From the sounds of it, I am still trying to find happiness in derby but struggle to make sense of it or reach success...even over a YEAR later.  What's the definition of insanity?  Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.  Clearly, I need to try something new.  I laugh a little, because the message was there the whole time...I just refused to listen, and in doing so I took a whole lot longer to make progress.  We'll see if I learn something new this time.  Here's to looking in different directions for happiness...for now...

CHEERS!

Slow and steady

Having blown through the first year of my forties, I have realized that this year...well, it sucked.  No, not all of it and I'm not a pessimist.  I simply feel that this year proved more challenging for me than I either expected, or was willing to admit.  I had written about change and how a huge wave of several big changes and shifts hit me at once this year.  I even said I was going to pull up my big girl panties and deal with it.  Um, I did not.  I gained weight.  I was cranky.  I didn't play with my friends.  I cried often.  I raged even more often.  Situation after situation was continually challenging me.  "Can I catch a break", I would joke.  "What am I not learning that this is happening again?", I would ask.  "Never a dull moment" I would say dryly with a sarcastic smile, when someone asked me how I was doing.  I actually got to the point where EVERYTHING was too much.  I have to do MORE dishes?  What do you mean you don't have underwear?  Do you guys really need another meal? I kinda just waded through the days trying to get to that quiet moment in the evening after the boys are asleep where I could say, "it's too late to get that done" and sit down on the couch and finally talk to my husband.  Mind you, it's 11:00 pm at that point and in another 6 hours it will start all over.  Like that movie Groundhog Day.  It may seem like I am writing this as if it is all a past tense adventure. 

It's not.

I am exhausted from the lessons of my fortieth year.  **I know, I know, I am not nearly done with life lessons and I'm merely a babe in the art of growing up.  This is a snapshot in my life long journey, so calm down if you think I'm whining.  I'm storytelling, it's different.** Okay, where was I?  Ah, yes.  Feeling crazy.  I actually said out loud at some point, "I think I'm going crazy."  Between kids and family and finances and jobs and life...well, I wasn't being super effective at much of it.  I was overwhelmed.  Ya feel me?  Yea, I know you do.  Recently, (and by recently I mean a few weeks) I decided I needed to make some changes.  Somehow I have to make myself the priority, and that is absolutely foreign to me.  Wrong, even. In order to be the priority I need to be able to see better.  So, It's time to make room.  "Clear my plate", so to speak.  Sounds like a good plan, right? How many of you out there have the "I just can't say no" syndrome?  It can also be translated to the "people pleasing disease".   Sound familiar?  How do I clear my plate when I can't say no...even to something that I KNOW is going to be problematic?  Simple (not really), but I am using the often said idea that when you turn forty, you just don't care as much what other people think. I must have heard that said a zillion times coming up to my fortieth birthday, and it is now serving as my reminder to do something different.  I'm going with the theory of "say it until it's true," or "fake it 'til you make it" since the idea of not caring so much is a long running issue for me.  Not only because I shouldn't care so much about what other people think...but also because other people are not worried about what I think.  I remember being told, "most people are not thinking about you as much as they are thinking about themselves!" Ha!  Too true.

 

Only a month or so away from opening another annual chapter in my life, I have had a few situations come up that I actually did the opposite of what I would normally do.  I said no.  I didn't worry (well, at least not enough to stop me) about what other people would think.  I didn't try to make people who don't care about me feel better.  I have limited how much time I spend on social media.  I made no apologies where they weren't merited.  I was honest when I spoke.  This post and my last post (Pressure Cooker) have a similar theme and clearly it is a focus of mine.  It hasn't been easy and I am by no means done, but today I was motivated to write about it because today I woke up and didn't feel the weight of the world on my shoulders.  I have made progress!  (Doing a little happy dance).  I feel like I can breathe.  I feel like there is space in my head to slow down, pause, and look around instead of being too busy, frustrated, or panicked with texts and emails and craziness.  You hear and see motivational sayings that say all progress, however slow, is still progress! The other part of the equation is that I need to slow down enough to be able to recognize it.  Clearing my plate of the things that weren't essential to my role or were toxic to my well being has been one of the most empowering moves I've made in a long long time.  And although the feelings of progress and success may come and go, I know the rewards of making small changes and allowing myself to be the priority every once in a while.  Slow and steady.  Slow and steady.

Pressure Cooker...

I have noticed lately that I used to break a lot less stuff when I played roller derby.  Honestly, retiring from derby has been more complicated and depressing than I ever expected.  I want it so bad, and I spend hours trying to figure out how to go back...even if my surgeon and my knees say "NO."  To say it has sucked, or that it still sucks at this moment, would be an understatement.  But, I digress.  Frustration is a powerful little bugger.  It's sneaky and you don't always realize it's building up.  You get more sensitive to sounds.  You get impatient and cranky.  You slam doors.  You grit your teeth.  And finally, when it reaches a breaking point...YOU SNAP!! Having retired from derby, other than being critically depressed over it, I also realize how derby was, for me, the most effective method of mediating stress and frustration.  A physical outlet to decompress.  Now, because my knees have dictated I move on...I am noticing that I am less patient, more irritable, and I break more stuff...accidentally.  And by accidentally, I mean, I don't recognize the build up and then...BAM! That poor mug handle didn't stand a chance.  Or the unsuspecting remote, may it rest in peace, it was just a tool that was sacrificed to the brewing wrath of frustration.  I finally confessed to destroying it, and my gracious husband hasn't given me too much grief about needing to change the channel or adjust the volume by actually GETTING UP!  He's a gracious and amazing man.  It's clear, I need a new outlet.  STAT.  Before any more remotes or mug handles lose their lives.  I'm working on it.  Money and time are pains in my ass.  Don't worry I'll find a solution, but I suppose me actually DOING it is the rest of the recipe.  Motivation, purpose, and weight loss are on the agenda and each merit their own posts.  Right now, I focus on WHY I am sooooo frustrated and stressed.  Manage the disease, not the symptoms, right?

Step one?  Face the reality.  The truth is...the other piece of the puzzle would be to own the fact that I actually create a lot of my own stress.  Yes, I CREATE MY OWN ANXIETY. It stings a little, since I would like to think I am not at the core of my own problems, but it's the reality.  A recent read (recommended by my precious husband) was a blog titled, "The Subtle Art of Not Giving A Fuck" (http://markmanson.net/not-giving-a-fuck).  It reminded me that I create a crap ton of stress and anxiety by caring way too much about things that don't merit the real estate in my head.  Boom!  Of course there are plenty of other legitimate stressors and frustrations, but I am actually in the position to diminish my stress, and thereby calm down the pressure cooker, by learning not to worry about things that don't deserve the time.  Can I get an Amen?   What if I just decided to let some of the crap go?  Not get all worked up over someone scoffing at me because I made a mistake, or watching somene getting away with murder in the carline at pick-up.  They will bear the burden of their own decisions...or maybe, they won't.  Why do I have to invest emotional resources into something that isn't worth it?  How about I decide not to worry so much about what other people think I should be or do or say?  Or worry less about the other people who don't even KNOW me?  Be me without apology?  Yes, this seems like something worth trying. This is the answer to (part of) my problems.  For those of you who have learned or mastered the art of letting things go, do not hesitate to offer your expertise.  I'll keep you posted on how it goes...

Change, change, and more change...

Change has a way of making me nostalgic for the past because I find comfort in what I already know.  The unknown is freaky and unpredictable.  Sure, I believe in the benefits of change and learning from my failures and moving forward in the unknown.  I also have faith.  But, being merely human...I just sometimes forget these things, and then change seems to have a way of sucker-punching me in the gut.  And change has a way of happening in the "when it rains, it pours" kind of fashion.  Good or bad, expected or unexpected, natural or unnatural...it's still change.  Maybe it will come as a surprise to you, but I don't really like change.  Adjusting to new things, for me, takes time and lots of processing to get to the other side of it.  It seems to be a season of change for several people in my life. And, the word on the street is that things are always going to keep changing.

Change is a chameleon.  It takes on so many forms.  Some exciting and natural, like my return to work, or my son moving on to middle school.  Some monumental, like turning 40 and watching incredible and deserved people retire.  But, the ones I struggle with the most have a theme.  For me, it all boils down to loss, mourning those losses, and trying figure out the new path to move forward.  Loss creates voids and those voids force me to change in order to heal.  And, as I have said...change is really hard for me.   So, there you have it.  Profound?  No.  Just trying to navigate the obvious...even though "the obvious" plays games and dances around you like a super ninja laughing at you because you can't see it coming.  I figure stating the obvious has it's time and place...because sometimes, it is needed.  So, I'll pull up my big girl pants and continue to push forward.  One change at a time...

Who are YOU to assume anything...

as·sump·tion

əˈsəm(p)SHən/

noun

a thing that is accepted as true or as certain to happen, without proof.

Last week, I happily walked out of Target with a smile, having purchased a watch for my new job with a gift card.  Thrilled and guilt free that I didn't spend money from the our grocery budget AND  stoked I had landed a new job, I had a ridiculously big smile on my face.  A young man, maybe 19 or so, made brief eye contact as he sat in a chair with a collection box for the homeless in front of him.  I nodded and smiled kindly at him.  As I passed him, he mumbled something under his breath that had a scathing tone to it.   Ignore it, Jenn.  Just ignore it.  Walk away!!  But...I couldn't.  And as many of you know...that's not unusual.  In fact, my friends and family often get nervous when they see my feathers get ruffled.  No, no...I won't fight...I will educate.  This young man has just presented me with a "teachable moment," as I call them in parenting.  Not to worry, fighting is a thing of my younger more impulsive days.

I turned around and approached the boy and replied, "excuse me?"  He mumbled again.  "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you.  What did you say?"  Remaining slumped in his chair, refusing to look at me, with a frown on his face...he says to me; "you think homeless kids is funny."  (Insert ragged needle scratch on pristine vintage vinyl here). 
WHAT??? Seriously, at this very moment as I write this, I am flooded with adrenaline again. Did this kid AUDIBLY make a disgustingly inaccurate assumption and judge me because I didn't offer any spare change?  Really?  You're asking for money and you treat potential donors with disrespect?  What?  No, no , nooooo!   Thinking it in your head is one thing...and we have all been guilty of it.  Hopefully, feeling convicted by the thoughts and reminding ourselves we have no idea what is really happening for that person.

What did I say, you ask?  In my best educator voice, (a lot like the tone you have heard when I go into professional mode, for those of you who know it), I kneel down and look him in the eyes.  "It's a shame you think that just because I don't offer change to donate, you ASSUME that I think it's 'funny' or not a worthwhile cause.  Do you know what my financial situation is? (He shakes his head.)  Don't assume you know anything about me simply because of how I look.  You would ask the same of me, when I look at your tattoos and piercings, right?  It won't do your cause any good by pissing off the people you seek support from.  Be careful.  I may have donated to the guy that was here yesterday, and if I were here tomorrow...I likely won't donate because all I will remember is how the guy that was here before was rude and judgmental."  I walked away and my smile was all gone.  I was all pumped with adrenaline and angry.  How dare he?  We all have our trials.  Comparison of those trials is silly.  They are specific to our lives and our failures and triumphs are unique to us and our journey. 

Who knows, perhaps the moment was lost on him, but it served as a reminder that I am also guilty of doing this very thing I was so riled up about him doing to me.  Whether stranger, friend, acquaintance, or family, I sometimes think I might actually know what's happening.  But, instead of assuming or making cavalier judgements, I could ask questions.  Truth is, I can pretend to know things, but I really don't have any idea what someone else is thinking.  I'm not psychic.  I might get lucky and guess correctly, but then that is just luck.  I was told by a very bright woman that it is important to let people be adults and not assume for them.  If you have questions, ask them.  Let them be adults and provide you with the right answer.  The long used phrase, "don't assume...it makes an ass out of "u" and "me".  I say it all the time when I get caught making the mistake of assuming. So, my goal is ask before I have the chance to assume.  Truth is, asking questions is much more valuable.  Accurate information is always better that speculation...

Time flies when you're procrastinating

     I procrastinate.  In fact, I'm actively procrastinating this very minute.  We all do it.  C'mon, admit it.  You've squandered every last minute before there was absolutely no time left to delay getting something done, and sometimes it is looooong overdue.  And then, BAM...it's like a stress festival on crack (if you haven't already spent the time justifying the overdue nature of your duties).  And inevitably, the job is done to a lesser degree (well, sometimes) than you had hoped.  Now, I really don't know if I actually consciously choose to delay the work, (well, if it's housecleaning, I'm sure I do it consciously) or if I am just so easily distracted I don't finish...or even start.  Raise your hand if you can relate.  Okay, now keep your hand raised if you are also a parent.  I'd bet my left eye that includes most of you.  I have nicknamed this condition, "The Parent Time Enigma".  Seriously, where does the time go?  I'm pretty sure that the last time I checked I was 29 and my body parts did not indicate the direction of gravity.  I mean, there's never enough time!!  It seems to me that procrastination is actually a skill to cope with parenthood!  *SIGH* But, I digress.  I have always procrastinated...then, the children arrived.  Procrastination took on a whole new level.  A scary level.  Except, everybody forgave me because I had children!  Ha!  My reputation was saved!  (Well, at least I'd like to believe that). 
     Anyways, I have found that as a parent there is always an infinite number of "other" things to do instead of what I am supposed to be doing.  I can totally make a work space to cook amongst the dirty dishes I don't feel like doing.  And you know what?  I don't care!  Whew, that was a cathartic.  Seriously, I get my shit done.  And the added adrenaline from waiting to long is a little addictive, especially if it miraculously turns out amazing!  If you want it done in a timely manner, I ain't your gal.  I'll get it done by the deadline, sure, but you're not allowed to ask me how it's going.  It's likely not going if you are asking me about it, and it's not going to be until I feel compelled to actually do it.  Yup.  Truth.  But, it's okay.  If I really want to stress less, I'll figure out how to actually plan things out.  And truth be told, there are a few things in my life that I don't leave to the last minute.  For example, using the restroom.  I rarely wait too long for that one.  It can go desperately wrong after the birth of two children.  Also, it would be highly unlikely for me to procrastinate in making my coffee in the morning, let alone very dangerous for anyone in the near vicinity of an non-caffeinated me.  What else?  Oh, yea..I NEVER go into a meeting without an escape plan, even if I don't NEED one...and that escape plan is NEVER last minute.  It has much forethought and planned strategy. So, you see, I don't save all things for the last minute.  But, when I do...I would caution you to steer clear of my frenzied progress because sometimes it can get kinda scary for the fainthearted. 

“Never put off till tomorrow what may be done day after tomorrow just as well". - Mark Twain (http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/tag/procrastination)

“You can't just turn on creativity like a faucet. You have to be in the right mood. What mood is that? Last-minute panic.” - Bill Watterson (http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/tag/procrastination)

Adventures in Roller Derby: Episode 3, Officially Official

Time-hop...fast forward to yesterday.  (I will fill you in on all the magical unicorn-like adventures of my derby past another time, but yesterday was too incredible to keep with my timeline.)
Yesterday I reluctantly attended a Roller Derby Referee Clinic.  Yes, reluctantly.  I wasn't convinced that it was the direction I wanted to go with my derby path.  I was still mourning the "death" of AvaLanche the skater.   I even put wings on my skates.  You could say I was struggling with my retirement and that would be an understatement.  Many of you understand exactly what I'm talking about...others, you'll understand someday.

The clinic was a three part, brilliantly organized event put on my the fabulous F-Stop, head ref at South Coast Roller Derby.  Part one, rules discussion.  Part two, on skates ref classes.  Part three, officiating in an ACTUAL BOUT!  What??  A real live bout? Nooooooo, surely I would not do that.  I will just work it as a Non-Skating Official, as I have in the past.  No worries, right?  WRONG!  But I digress...there I was, sitting amongst 20 or so people of whom I only knew a few and they were busy coordinating and working, so finding safety in their conversation wasn't an option.  I kept to myself and tried to look like I wasn't ridiculously uncomfortable.  Then, like somebody opened the window in a heated car full of farts, in walked my mentor, my "referee mom", the lovely Hannah Grenade. (Can you hear the music?) AND she gave my my very first ever ref shirt!!

I manage to fumble through the new rules discussion. *(A new rule set was released this month, which means the derby community, skaters and officials alike, are a flurry with updating their mindset.)  Two hours of this and my brain actually hurt after that.  I'm serious, I had a headache.  The rules of this sport are so very complicated, but as an official (and many would argue skaters, too) your responsibility to know them backwards and forwards, exceptions included, is downright overwhelming. I really do think my head exploded.  KA-BOOM!
As I mentioned, the second part of the clinic was on skates, learning from veteran refs who graciously donated their time to the teach classes.  I am relieved, since I figure this will be less brain intensive than the rules discussion.  WRONG.  So so very wrong.  I opt to attend the Jam ref communication class, taught by Justin Bibe from Beach Cities Roller Derby.  Jam refs just follow the jammer and call off the jam, that'll be easy, right?  WRONG. (Are you seeing a theme yet?)  HOLY CRAP!!  I had NO IDEA how many things jam refs have to track, along with the all of other skating ref positions.  Every position has about 8000 factors in their jobs and they all happen in increments of 3 to 5 seconds.  Are you dizzy?  I am.  Jam refs need to be aware of tracking and reporting points, number of passes my jammer has made, if they have lapped the other jammer, whether or not they are lead, which skaters they have passed as points, hand signals, penalty calls, whistle blasts, positioning, other ref cues, penalty box points....AHHHHHHHHH!  And this isn't even all of it!  Again, my head exploded.  Little did I know I had already been rostered to be a jam ref in the upcoming bout in a few hours.  I really just threw up in my mouth a little and felt like I was going to pass out.  Me?  Jam ref?  Tonight?  Now, I would like to remind you that I hadn't really skated much in a while and I had NEVER reffed in any capacity before.  I was reminded to trust the officials that created the roster and just do my best.  (Thank you Hannah, F-Stop, and Justin).  Here's a side note.  As referees we often make calls (legitimately or erroneously) that make skaters and coaches angry and it can get pretty heated.  I don't like people to be mad at me.  See my problem?  A life lesson for me to learn will be that it's my job to make calls and not take it personally when people get upset...and that I will make mistakes.  Lots of them.  Yea, that'll take a while and will likely be fodder for future stories. 
Third part, bout time.  I muster up all the confidence I can and get geared up.  Lucky for me, this bout is with my home league and I know many of the skaters, so I can rest easy knowing they know I have never done this before and will be more forgiving of the learning curve.  I also have several brand new refs working by my side, likely feeling just as nervous as me.  The first whistle blows.  It was so mind boggling.  Chasing the jammer all night is a crazy workout!  Then, add the brain work.  Honestly, the bout came and went so fast!  It was exhausting and amazing.  I did it!  I reffed my first bout and LIVED!  This experience from start to finish validated my new path in derby and made me fall in love with it all over again.  The analogy of being "pushed out of the nest to learn to fly", was just the thing I needed to remember what made me love derby in the first place.  The core of my love for derby is the continuous personal growth, riddled with all its challenges, and how I accomplished far more than I ever believed I would.  And these accomplishments are not limited to the track.  I mentioned a life lesson earlier that derby would help me learn.  Happens all the time.  Derby is life changing!  (Insert trumpet fanfare and confetti explosion here). Not to mention that it is just an incredible sport.  Yea, derby love.  Ain't nothing like it.