As my last photos I posted indicated, I went ice skating for the first time on Friday. Ever since last year they’ve blocked off one of the streets by the campus’s barren, esplanaded edge and installed a rink for a few months in winter.

Friday was also the day the historic mill downtown caught fire. Before I went to the rink I was watching it being put out from a distance as blinking lights from the fire department’s vehicles punched holes in the black. Blocks away it was being pierced by cutesy Christmas lights they put around while I was home on break last weekend. They finally put the fire out yesterday afternoon. It made me angry at first. A seemingly eternal view, one that I had appreciated and even taken for granted, totally destroyed. I try to never take attending an institution with such a history attached to it for granted. I walk with the weight of a scholarship in memory of a man who worked his tail to preserve that history for future generations when he was alive; I can’t just take certain presences for granted, can I? But I still took that quaint Taco Tontos view for granted. Things are wack here.

Skating did help distract me, though. I had always wanted to try it out, and having roller skated on and off for a while, it was easy to pick up, as much as I clung to the wall. It felt satisfying and even empowering. I took a few knees and resigned with confidence (and one independent lap) to catch the last bus home. It just felt good, good to be out there doing something I had always wanted to, on a whim and without external limitation. Bruised knees are cool.

I skated for the second time tonight at the university arena, which has public skating sessions every so often. The lobby is excruciatingly wood panel, and it has the faint smell of popcorn from the snack bar. There is a party room where a bunch of little girls were having a party. Out on the rink I kept running into (not literally) a really adorable little girl with bangs, black leggings, and a slightly-too-big Nirvana shirt. I should’ve turned her on to the Melvins, but I had skating to do. Other than the small children (of which there were many), there were all kinds of people there, including funhaving college couples, cocky college boys, and a few seasoned vets who seemed to effortlessly glide across the floor. I kept looking at one guy, an older guy who looked kind of like David Crosby but not absurd in the facial hair department, who just casually sailed along with his hands in his pockets. He just seemed so cool.

I was not cool on the ice, or at least I didn’t feel cool, because my continued reliance on the wall got me trapped in a lot of traffic jams behind tiny children who didn’t really know how to skate, and I kept falling on my ass. My roller skating career ended when I was standing completely still in the middle of the street hockey court in a hometown-local park, lost my balance for a split second, fell on my ass, and sprained my wrist catching my fall. Obviously, I was overjoyed to keep falling on my ass. GREAT JOB.

I can tell I’m doing well just going out there at all, even if my confidence tonight lasted in spurts. It was just a different experience. It was admittedly a little hard to focus, especially when “You Don’t Know You’re Beautiful” segued into “Baby Shark” near the end of the hour and a half when the sound system had tired of Christmas music. (The downtown rink did supply “Simply Having A Wonderful Christmastime” at the same exact time as actual rain, but at least it stayed on theme.) I’m not sure if I made any progress tonight, really. But I don’t want to abandon it out of lack of immediate proficiency. Because when I do get into the zone, the things that weigh heavy are trivial, and I feel like I can do anything.

I think I can get the hang of it.