I went rollerblading again, because I am a girl and a human disaster and enjoy inviting injury. I could have stayed out longer, but came in when the batteries ran down on the music player, God's way of announcing "YOU ARE OVERDOING IT AGAIN, YOU STUPID, STUPID GIRL."
I have new blades; it was time. I didn't realize it was time until last week, when I discovered that the old ones had worked a gash into my left leg where the boot cuts into my calf. The wheels were completely worn down on the inside. I was taken aback; these were brand new skates.
Then I did the math. They were brand new when I was a freshman in college.... nine years ago.
When I was able to speak and move again, I hit up WalMart. These new blades were an absolute joy to break in, mostly for everybody driving past. The boots are tremendously stiff and one of the straps doesn't buckle properly, and plus it's one of those hideously semi-cloudy Florida days, when it's not sunny enough for sunglasses but too glarey without them. So round and round I went, sweating and squinting, clapping my skates against the asphalt in galactically uneven strides.
You are welcome, world.
August 23, 2003