All Done.

So Wheel Weekend is over, and I learned a lot. But mostly I hurt myself today and so became well aware of the fact that despite my best efforts I am not eight or twelve years-old anymore.

The injury was simple enough, I was told to keep my arms straight no matter what, and then of course, when I fell down, I kept my arms straight and didn't bend them to brace for the impact. Dumb, but I was following directions.

Thankfully, I did not break anything, just jammed up some ligaments. And I'll be fine in a few days, but for now I can't really lift things, or push or pull anything heavy with my left hand. It could be way worse as the left-hand is the writing, page turning, and fork holding hand in this body. So right now there is just dull pain that gets sharper when I forget that its there and try to do anything.

I feel kind of like an idiot because as much time as I spend convincing myself that things look easy and accessibly, I spend as much (if not more) telling myself that I can still do all of these things and push my body like I could as a kid. And its frustrating when I am (painfully) reminded that I am old and brittle.

Wheel weekend was fun and I'm excited (once healed) to keep learning more. There is a wheel weekend with a show in October. I would really like to perform in the show, probably not by myself and for no more than a minute or so, but I haven't done anything choreographed on stage in awhile and it would be lovely to return to that.

And until then, taking pictures is just as good.
And in exciting news - it is going to be in the 50's this week! Hooray! Flip flop weather!

Big Wheels Keep on Turning

Today I did this:


And this:

And a lot of other stuff that is going to leave me sore and bruised.

Its "Wheel Weekend" in Chicago (what, you didn't get the memo?) and this is my first year of participating. I'm doing a coaching session since I'd only ever spent about 30 miserable minutes strapped into one of those suckers before 8 AM this morning (ergo - was not quite ready for a workshop).

Have you ever seen a Gym Wheel? Chances are - probably not. But they are incredibly cool and the rarity of them in the US makes them (to my elitist self) even cooler.

Anyway - youtube some gym wheel. Here. I'll Help.

So here's the thing with me and gym wheel (and really anything I decide I want to do) - I convince myself that it is really easily. Like absurdly easy. And I sleep soundly at night, nestled in my insane delusions of the simplicity of life.

And then of course when I try gym wheel/mini golf/painting/sewing/figure skating I realize that I am a major idiot and of course these things are some what challenging (except mini golf - that I am just terrible at for no good reason).

The thing with Gym Wheel is I think I know a lot about it (because I see it every day) but in reality, I know very little about the logistics. The people I see doing it most of the time are fantastic and have been practicing almost every day for years. So I've been watching it for a year now and so I think that I could do all these things in a year if I started working at them now, conveniently forgetting that that is not the way this works.

So I tried it today. And I held my own for my very first day. I was successful in all of the beginner skills even the vaulting (which was my fear). And I tried spiral! I was being spotted the whole time, but I tried it. Which is a big step for me. But still I was honestly disappointed in the fact that I didn't get on that sucker and whip out some crazy shit like naturally.

I have two days of workshop left, plus an open-ended opportunity to mess around when I want to, so I'm hoping this is a beginning, not a...middle.

heckled

On Wednesday I was at Clark and Lake waiting for the Red Line.

I was in a GREAT mood. I had had a great morning of writing, I was wearing new pants and I was about to experience the German/Gym Wheel for the first time.

As I walked down the platform, I noticed a performer with a guitar, a harmonica and a Nantucket Sweatshirt.

Nothing puts a big, dumb smile on my face than a Nantucket sweatshirt. So I decided to get my camera phone out and attempt to subtly take a picture of this guy to add to my gallery of ridiculous camera phone photography.

I put my bookbag down on a bench and open the front pocket to find my phone, while my hand was in the bag I discovered that my ipod headphones cord was all tangled so I pulled it out to untangle the cord before it became a bigger disaster.

"Excuse me Miss. Do you have every song ever made on that CD?"

I hear the voice and make out what its saying but ignore it, because there is no way that that person is talking to me, and if they are, I have no interest in answering (particularly these days, because now that I'm not man hunting 24/7 I'm not even checking to see if random-talking-stranger is cute).

"Excuse me. Miss. Excuse me. Miss. Miss."

When the repetition starts everyone knows its time to answer, because otherwise there is a very good chance you might end up on the business end of the C-word and/or a punch to the face.

I look up and the street performer guy makes direct eye contact with me.

"Hey. You have every song ever written on that CD player?"

I am not quite sure what he's talking about as the only CD player I currently own is attached to the computer hidden in my backpack and if he has x-ray vision and that's what he's asking then the world is probably minutes from ending anyway, so no reason to lie.

"Um no?"

"How do you know you don't like my music if you've never heard it. Unless you're listening to every song ever made."

And now I get it.

He is insinuating that I was getting my ipod out so I could listen to my music instead of what he was going to play. And that that was incredibly rude and presumptuous of me to assume that my music was better unless I was listening to ever song ever written/played/made. Also, that I was carrying a CD player because it is obviously 1998.

At this point people have noticed. It was noon, but I was downtown, so there were enough people on the platform and we were standing far enough apart that people could hear him and realize that he was talking to me.

And so now I am embarrassed because at the beginning of this wait-for-the-train I totally liked this guy and how we shared a penchant for souvenir sweatshirts from WASP-y resort-esque islands and now I'm being lectured like a five year old who won't stop touching his junk.

At this point I zip up my bag and go back to ignoring the guy as he continues to mumble. My face is flaming red. I have untangled my ipod headphones cord at this point and put the buds in my ear listening to whatever song comes on first.


The rest of the day continues in the same ilk, with a rip in the new pants, forgetting my leftovers dinner at home and dealing with more idiots...

I'm sorry, what sort of street performer has the balls/insecurity to yell at people for not listening to him even BEFORE they have their headphones actually in?