2005-12-12 - 12:20 p.m.


At the moment most of my life is overwhelming and not something I want to talk about, so instead, let's talk about what I did saturday night.

Saturday night I watched Ice Wars.

There was a time a few years back when I became obsessed with figure skating, or more to the point, with Brian Boitano.

I know, I know, I don't know what it is about me and gay men either but it's like moths to a flamer I swear.

I almost didn't watch it, because I haven't in the past few years but there was nothing else on and it seemed like a calming thing to do (I'm dancing close to a nervous breakdown/depressive episode so I'm trying to do stuff that maintains normalcy and calmness) so I watched.

Between Brian and Kurt I got sucked right back in.

It's insane how well they're both still skating. Brian's edges are as deep as ever, though his death drop sort of wilted on the bottom, he still gets the height...


What's more crazy, well, maybe not more crazy than my Brian addiction...do you know that I have an actual book, like a three ring binder with sheet protectors and everything, with photos of Brian.

I guess that won't suprise anyone who knows me well, but it's a little surprising because he's the only person I've bothered to put a little binder together for, I mean, the others show up on the dashboard for awhile and then hide away but this guy got his own binder.

I pulled the binder out yesterday to have a look and was surprised to find that less than half of it had photos. Another large section had articles about or interviews with Brian, okay, fine, that's cool I guess.

I mean, we're obviously taking liberties with the word cool here anyway right?

But here's the part that freaked even ME out. A really large section of this book was dedicated to print outs of lyrics to songs that he's skated to.

I mean, how obsessed was I?

Obsession is my friend, I'm aware. I give in to the throws at the slightest whim because I get bored easily otherwise. I embrace it and see it as the way of a passionate and creative mind. I've never been surprised after the fact.

I mean, I've looked back and thought, what the heck did I find so special about guy X...but the funny thing is, you can guarentee that somewhere down the road I will find guy X special again. That thing that drew me to him will draw me back eventually.

Note, I don't say Girl X because it's different with women. I am attracted to fewer women but the attraction is stronger. I never forget what attracted me to Ellen, Jorja, Annie ...I know exactly what drew me in.

I'm off track. The point is that I'm rarely surprised by my obsessions later, not the depth of them, I never look back and go, wow, I was sort of really far gone there and didn't realize it. I think I always realize...

But good grief. I printed out and stored in plastic protectors the lyrics to songs this man skated to?

One good (I guess) thing came out of the obsession. I mean, it isn't useful most of the time but it does confuse people, which is always fun.

I don't ice skate. I've never been able to ice skate. The short amount of time in my life during 7th grade that I spent going to an ice skating rink I ended up making out with the 22 year old dj in the corner the entire time and maybe making it around the ice once a night.

So not so much with the ice skating.

Enter obsession with Brian Boitano.

I've read so many books on figure skating that I could be a judge (no, really, I could. There is no rule saying that judges have to have skated or have any skate experience).

I am a purist. If you're going to do a spread eagle I don't want to see you sit on your edge, I want your back in a straight line. It makes it hard for me to watch because I want to scream and yell and kill coaches.

A story:

Back when I started getting into shape I would go to the gym nearly daily. To get to the faculty womens locker room it was easiest to go in through the ice rink.

This was fine during community free skate or even during the beginner lessons that serve as an sfl credit here at the college but a few days a week I would come in during an advanced class.

One girl in the class was clearly someone who had been in competitions and beleived she was training for something more.

Everyone else in the class showed up in jeans or sweats, she was in her skate skirt. She would practice spins and jumps but I never once saw her work on form. It was about being seen, not about getting it right. It was enough for her that it was more right than anyone else on the ice that minute.

It killed me.

Finally one day I was in the gym and she came in to work out. We ended up on side by side treadmills and try as I might I couldn't keep my nose out of it.

"You're that girl I see skating on tuesdays and thursdays."

She puffed up proud and said yes, that was her.

I told her she should fire her coach and kill whoever allowed her to start her jumps with that stupid kick, it ruins momentum and looks like she has no flow.

You'd have thought I had just punched her in the stomach.

She asked what I knew about skating.

Rather than tell her I'd read a couple of books because I was obsessed with how rock hard Brian Boitano's ass was I further critiqued her, landing on her spins, her difficulty with her outside edges, giving her tips to improve her bodyline on landings.

She started looking for me when I'd come in to go to the gym and eventually about once every three gym visits I'd end up coaching her instead of going upstairs to work out.

She'll never be a great skater, she's too old and doesn't have the body type, but she improved and I was so gratified...

Just goes to show, those who can't, teach.

What's even more strange is that though, even before I broke my feet, I was a mess on the ice, when I watch ice skating I have proprioceptive memory of each move.

Yes, I rollerskated, but it's so different, especially back when that meant four wheels. The whole thing was completely not the same.

I had to have skated in a previous life because when I watch I can feel in my tiniest muscle every twitch, down to the slightest elbow placement. I can remember the sound of the blades on the ice, the difference of the feel of soft ice vs hard, I know the coldness of ice against the heat of my overworked muscles...all of it, I can feel it, call it up like a memory from only weeks ago, but I've never had the experience.

Just another strange day in the life of someone who's out of her mind.

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