my legs are on fire
man oh man did i burn my drumsticks. i burned 'em baaaaaaaaaad.
i met up with fats and her pal esmir at south surrey athletic park today around 11. first fatima refused to give me specific instructions on how to find her, deciding instead to stubbornly instruct me to park by the field. i looked at the fields in every direction and felt some frustration. "read the signs." she said. "you should have looked at a map." she said. signs and maps don't tell me where to find you. i retorted. and that's how we greeted each other. which is what one musn't do. one must greet one's loved ones with love. sorry fatbud, this bud loves you. next time i'll just let go of that unimportant field stuff.
as we walked past the red and green softball teams esmir chatted about the day. fatima and i were covering beach volleyball and esmir, indoor volleyball. fats and i decided to start with the boys because fats had given the girls more coverage the day before. fats and esmir are pros. i am not.
we found a spot at the end of the two sandy courts and sat on the grass. that's when i realized the grass was wet. really wet. after my bum was soaked i went back to the car to get jordan's blankie. the one mom made him that christmas she made us all blankies, aka bed spreads. mine was thrown away circa 1991 without my permission just because it had a huge rip down the front. mom was getting rid of jordie's--sending it with me to the thrift store at work. so i kept it in my trunk. this was it's moment to shine.
back at the courts the ground was so wet we folded jordie's num-num in half to double our wet protection. i lay on my stomach to dry out my bum. i lay like that most of the day. and that's how i so badly burned my drumsticks. they are deep roasted pink like a porker's ham hocks on luau day. and they burn. how they burn!
i watched the intrepid mrs. beatty go interview some athletes using her phone as a mic. then i watched the next game and went over what kinds of questions i would ask in my head. i had to picture myself doing it in my mind. that's how i prepare for things. i see myself doing them. i visualize, ok?
the game i was watching featured a tall skinny boy and a short muscular boy. they were multicultural. i bet they are from the vancouver area i said to fatima. she told me to invite them to the fusion festival. after the game was over i balked at going to talk to them but my bestbud nudged me on, so then i did it. once you step into the current you just follow where it goes. my current took me to jerome (the tall skinny one) and jerome led me back to zachery. we had a chitchat with my phone's mic. i liked my boys, which is what i called them the rest of the day. they were cute and a bit nerdy, and they were boys. i may or may not have ended the interview abruptly, that is as soon as my mind went blank. after i was back on the blankie-shmankie listening to the interview on my earbudz i realized several follow up questions i should have asked. but listen--i'm not a journalist ok! i'm a mental health worker! so anywho then i spent a lot of time transcribing and trying to figure out what zach had said here and there (a bit of a mumbler). both boys ended a lot of their sentences with " --and, ya." "ya" agreed the other. so that's what i decided to quote in my article.
after a while my laptop died and i sought electrical outlets inside the 'physical education' building. i found one in the cafeteria by a small table that had a bag of frozen berries on it. i moved the berries and stole a chair, gently placing the jackets on it, on the ground and voila, i had a little desk. once inside and by myself, except for the people behind me who i paid no attention to, i finished my article quickly. it was just shy of 200 words and it wasn't very good. thank you to the editing people in the media centre who polished it up. i particularly like the title they gave it. you can read it here if you want to. (hint: you want to)
it was upon going inside that i realized what a freak show i had made of my flaming magenta calves.
i forgot to mention that the man in motion was watching his daughter play beach volleyball and esmir, that wily former yugoslavian, nabbed an interview with him when he should have been covering his OWN sport. fats and i were above bitterness at this.
it was already past 3 when i was done my 1st article and my legs were flaming batons attached to my knees, so i pretty much decided that one article was my limit. fats did two. and they were good. she's good. was there any doubt? esmir's article on the man in motion was 600 words, plus he did two more on the indoor volleyball. like i said--pros.
fatima did an article on a boy with a pink hat the day before. i named him pinky. but there was some question as to a lady in a pink tank top, who could have been a coach (frankly i quoted her as a coach), and fatima thought i was talking about her. then fatima named said pinky (the boy) and his partner (sport not life) were pinky and the brain. we laughed and thought ourselves quite clever, not to mention witty.
there were some guys going around with turbo juice backpacks giving out drinks. coconut mango water and coconut pineapple water and the like. the first time i accepted one and passed it to fatima from the laying on my stomach position and spilled it on her leg. it was the camping ice cream incident all over again. fatima let out a surprised "huragh!" i profusely apologized but couldn't help but laugh too. later when they came again, we saw them getting their photos taken. " i want to take a photo of them all jumping" i told my budster in crime. she suggested i hand it in to the news room as a suggestion for a new sport--free style jumping or something like that. once again we amused ourselves.
eventually we got up to go and i became aware of being weak of body and hungry of belly, having only eaten peanut butter toast in the am and the fruit bars the boys handed out. we parted ways in the parking lot and i drove home desperately trying to get some wind on my also burnt, but to a lesser degree, forearms.
once home i almost immediately had a cool shower and then had hummus and toast, thus sandwiching my day in one legume or another.
i met up with fats and her pal esmir at south surrey athletic park today around 11. first fatima refused to give me specific instructions on how to find her, deciding instead to stubbornly instruct me to park by the field. i looked at the fields in every direction and felt some frustration. "read the signs." she said. "you should have looked at a map." she said. signs and maps don't tell me where to find you. i retorted. and that's how we greeted each other. which is what one musn't do. one must greet one's loved ones with love. sorry fatbud, this bud loves you. next time i'll just let go of that unimportant field stuff.
as we walked past the red and green softball teams esmir chatted about the day. fatima and i were covering beach volleyball and esmir, indoor volleyball. fats and i decided to start with the boys because fats had given the girls more coverage the day before. fats and esmir are pros. i am not.
we found a spot at the end of the two sandy courts and sat on the grass. that's when i realized the grass was wet. really wet. after my bum was soaked i went back to the car to get jordan's blankie. the one mom made him that christmas she made us all blankies, aka bed spreads. mine was thrown away circa 1991 without my permission just because it had a huge rip down the front. mom was getting rid of jordie's--sending it with me to the thrift store at work. so i kept it in my trunk. this was it's moment to shine.
back at the courts the ground was so wet we folded jordie's num-num in half to double our wet protection. i lay on my stomach to dry out my bum. i lay like that most of the day. and that's how i so badly burned my drumsticks. they are deep roasted pink like a porker's ham hocks on luau day. and they burn. how they burn!
i watched the intrepid mrs. beatty go interview some athletes using her phone as a mic. then i watched the next game and went over what kinds of questions i would ask in my head. i had to picture myself doing it in my mind. that's how i prepare for things. i see myself doing them. i visualize, ok?
the game i was watching featured a tall skinny boy and a short muscular boy. they were multicultural. i bet they are from the vancouver area i said to fatima. she told me to invite them to the fusion festival. after the game was over i balked at going to talk to them but my bestbud nudged me on, so then i did it. once you step into the current you just follow where it goes. my current took me to jerome (the tall skinny one) and jerome led me back to zachery. we had a chitchat with my phone's mic. i liked my boys, which is what i called them the rest of the day. they were cute and a bit nerdy, and they were boys. i may or may not have ended the interview abruptly, that is as soon as my mind went blank. after i was back on the blankie-shmankie listening to the interview on my earbudz i realized several follow up questions i should have asked. but listen--i'm not a journalist ok! i'm a mental health worker! so anywho then i spent a lot of time transcribing and trying to figure out what zach had said here and there (a bit of a mumbler). both boys ended a lot of their sentences with " --and, ya." "ya" agreed the other. so that's what i decided to quote in my article.
after a while my laptop died and i sought electrical outlets inside the 'physical education' building. i found one in the cafeteria by a small table that had a bag of frozen berries on it. i moved the berries and stole a chair, gently placing the jackets on it, on the ground and voila, i had a little desk. once inside and by myself, except for the people behind me who i paid no attention to, i finished my article quickly. it was just shy of 200 words and it wasn't very good. thank you to the editing people in the media centre who polished it up. i particularly like the title they gave it. you can read it here if you want to. (hint: you want to)
it was upon going inside that i realized what a freak show i had made of my flaming magenta calves.
i forgot to mention that the man in motion was watching his daughter play beach volleyball and esmir, that wily former yugoslavian, nabbed an interview with him when he should have been covering his OWN sport. fats and i were above bitterness at this.
it was already past 3 when i was done my 1st article and my legs were flaming batons attached to my knees, so i pretty much decided that one article was my limit. fats did two. and they were good. she's good. was there any doubt? esmir's article on the man in motion was 600 words, plus he did two more on the indoor volleyball. like i said--pros.
fatima did an article on a boy with a pink hat the day before. i named him pinky. but there was some question as to a lady in a pink tank top, who could have been a coach (frankly i quoted her as a coach), and fatima thought i was talking about her. then fatima named said pinky (the boy) and his partner (sport not life) were pinky and the brain. we laughed and thought ourselves quite clever, not to mention witty.
there were some guys going around with turbo juice backpacks giving out drinks. coconut mango water and coconut pineapple water and the like. the first time i accepted one and passed it to fatima from the laying on my stomach position and spilled it on her leg. it was the camping ice cream incident all over again. fatima let out a surprised "huragh!" i profusely apologized but couldn't help but laugh too. later when they came again, we saw them getting their photos taken. " i want to take a photo of them all jumping" i told my budster in crime. she suggested i hand it in to the news room as a suggestion for a new sport--free style jumping or something like that. once again we amused ourselves.
eventually we got up to go and i became aware of being weak of body and hungry of belly, having only eaten peanut butter toast in the am and the fruit bars the boys handed out. we parted ways in the parking lot and i drove home desperately trying to get some wind on my also burnt, but to a lesser degree, forearms.
once home i almost immediately had a cool shower and then had hummus and toast, thus sandwiching my day in one legume or another.
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