So I went and saw Queen of the Damned yesterday. It was not the high point of my weekend. Not that I had expected it to be, mind you, in fact if anything, it was slightly better than I’d expected, and if you’re a goth then this movie will be the best thing you will see all year. It’s biggest flaw is that it’s just plain boring. Really, really boring. I say this coming from a place right now where I’m in an extreme state of tolerance for boring things. I sat in front of my computer the other day looking first at the screen, and then at the desk. Screen, desk. Screen, clock, phone, pencil, desk. For a half an hour straight. Today as I was lying in bed, I watched the frost melt off of the neighbor’s roof. I watched the frost turn to water, the sun glistening off the small droplets as they trickled down the roof, and I continued to watch as the water dried, steam slowly rising into the air. Yes, I was laying there for that long, watching… ice evaporate.
And the movie bored me. I think that’s all I really need to say.
The rest of my weekend, however, was pretty good. I’ve got a sore wrist (not from anything like that, you filthy, filthy minded beast), a badly jammed toe, and I ache from head to foot, but other than that I feel good. Agenda: Martial arts school testing (lots of fun hitting and being hit, but it made me realize that I am certainly not ready for that test – one hour of constant fighting, literally, for the people being tested); drinks, a great dinner, and a bad movie; a good, hearty breakfast, an absolutely delicious lunch, and curling. That’s right, curling. And let me say kids, it’s harder than it looks.
It’s like shuffleboard, really. Shuffleboard where you’re on ice, balancing on one foot, while moving, pushing a heavy rock, aiming the rock, twisting the rock just enough but not too much, and then releasing the rock without losing your balance and then remembering that you shouldn’t be losing your balance because you weren’t supposed to be putting any weight on the rock in the first place and since you were there’s no way that rock is going to end up anywhere near the point you were trying to get it to go. Plus there’s the broom, but I’m not even going to go there.
Actually, I’m kidding. It was easy. I’m a natural, and everyone complimented me and asked me to join the league.
No, actually I’m kidding again. I wasn’t that good. But it wasn’t as hard as I was making it sound. It just takes a lot of practice to be any good whatsoever. One kid who actually plays in one of the leagues there was taping up our shoes before we went out for our “introductory lesson”, and we ask him “how long have you been curling?”
“Four years,” he replies, matter of factly.
The kid’s like… nine years old. “So what part do you like best?” we ask.
“I like everything.” He must get asked that question often, because his answer is just delivered so straight. Probably because he’s really thinking “just shut up, let me put this tape on your damn shoes so you can go out there and have your fun little curling session, go home and tell all your friends what you did, and then I can get back to actually playing for real instead of having to babysit you.”
After our session, as we were sitting in the bar upstairs, I saw him actually out on the ice, and boy could that little bastard move. He’d just push off with one foot, and go sailing down the lane for a long, long way before having to push again. It was inhuman. I think he’s in league with Lucifer. No one can have that kind of balance flat-footed on ice. Or should I say, no one should. And to twist the knife, the bartender sees me watching him and says “Yeah, my team played against his last week. We lost.” So my mission is clear: To make the world a safe place for us amateur curlers, and rid it of these child prodigies. What’s left for us to hope and dream for if someone twenty years younger than us can shame us so easily? I just have to catch him first…
Riddle me this: What was the last thing you saw a child do that put you in awe?