So, I decided to learn how to curl this winter.  It’s a sport that’s long intrigued me.  First, I love how strategic it is.  Two teams being equal in skill, victory can truly be a matter of how smart you play.  Plus, it’s a very social sport, and goodness knows that in the transition to living by myself, opportunities to socialize = yes, where do I sign up?  Suffice it say, when my friends A and M told me they’d joined a rookies’ league at a curling rink mid-way between my place and theirs, I practically begged them to send me the registration info.

I started a few weeks after the rest of the group, but would say that at this point I’m getting close to having caught up in terms of skill.  I no longer fall every third shot, and while I still miss mess up more than most (my most persistent problem being an inability to throw my rocks hard enough to get them past the line they need to get past to be considered in play), my stats are improving.

For example, last night I managed a take out (when you hit the other team’s rock out of play) and twice managed to get two rocks in a row over the line.  Not bad.

In fact, I was feeling pretty good about my game last night as I headed off the ice in search of a post-game drink.  And then . . . SPLAT!  I was lying face down on the ice.  Can’t say for sure what happened, but I think the leg of my pants got caught under my shoe and . . . face plant.

So, now I’m sporting a welt on my chin that answers the question “what would v look like with Jay Leno’s chin transplanted onto her face?”  The response?  Not good.  And getting worse as time passes.  This morning my goose egg was mostly red.  By late afternoon it was slowly turning purple.

What does this have to do with dating?  Well, today at the gym I  noticed a cute guy glancing my way a couple of times.  This does not happen at the gym very often (or at least, not the part where the glancer is cute), and so I started thinking about maybe, possibly smiling at him; or (gasp!) saying hi . . . and then I caught my reflection in the mirror.  One look at Jay Leno chin girl staring back at me was all it to took to realize that I was NOT getting, “damn, baby, you look good” glances.  I was getting “what the heck happened there” glances.

So, it would seem that for the foreseeable future I’m on the “out due to injury” list when it comes to dating.  On the plus side, I almost said hi to a cute boy today 🙂

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