Why They Call it Falling

In November, I received an email from my father with the subject line “URGENT.” I thought then, as I think now, that if it was really urgent, he should have called me on the phone, but who am I to think for my father? Anyway, what was “URGENT” was that he wanted a Christmas list from me. So I thought about it for a day and sent him a list that was composed of anything that I had even remotely considered buying in the previous six months. This included a software package, new sheets, ice skates and other somewhat extravagant purchases that grad students just don’t go around buying willy nilly.

I thought that my parents would buy me one or two of the items on the list and I’d be the happiest grad student ever. But, no, my parents went crazy with the list. Maybe they feel bad that I’ve been and will be in a state of broke for so many years. Who knows? So, ice skates. That’s where this story leads us.

Yesterday was a fine Minnesotan Martin Luther King Junior birthday day. It had snowed a couple of inches Sunday night, the sun was shining in a way that it can only shine on a cold winter day, and I wanted to break in my new ice skates. I had taken an ice skating class in college (go BG!) and by the end of the class, everyone else was skating backwards, doing crossovers, jumps, and assorted other fun stuff, and I was still falling. Every single class. I would try to keep up with my classmates. But I’m just not athletic. Or, in this case, not gifted with balance.

This was amusing to my teacher. What’s with this girl? She does come to class. She does everything I ask her to do. But she just doesn’t get it. She’s so clumsy. And graceless. And balanceless.

Anyway, so on this fine January Minnesotan day, Biker Boy and I grabbed our skates and headed to Lake of the Isles for my first ever experience of ice skating on an outdoor rink. I think that Biker Boy thought I was exaggerating about how I took a class for an entire semester and still fell. He clearly thought that I was actually quite good and just being self-deprecating. Ha. The thing is, he’s seen me rollerblade. It’s not like I’m any good at that…so why would he think I had some heretofore unseen ice skating talent? It’s anyone’s guess.

We took a few laps around the rink. So far, so good. Then, my toe pick got caught and like that scene from The Cutting Edge, I did a D.B. Sweeney and ended up eating the ice. I picked myself up, brushed off the snow and kept skating. Biker Boy said, “ummm…you all right?” I shrugged and kept going. Then we skated for a few more minutes when he started talking about how his oldest brother is actually quite a good skater and because I wasn’t concentrating 100% on my balance, I fell again. This time I landed on my hip. On the pointy part. And it hurt. So we went home.

The pointy part of my hip was bleeding (bleeding!), people. All over my nice white long underwear. And my knees are, um, huge purple bruise masses. Oh, yeah.

I can’t wait to go out again as soon as possible.