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.