Haaaaard

It's Friday afternoon at about 1.30. I'm watching curling on TV--Ontario versus British Columbia. Apparently, Bob from BC just made a perfect call as the skip, getting a carry on the yellow rock.

I've never curled, except once in grade 7, about two hours after I'd had one of those eye exams where they put the drops in your eyes. It was winter, which meant that I had snow blindness on top of googly vision. As a result, curling has always been associated with feeling kind of stoned and vulnerable. Oh, and, gawky, out of place, weird and poorly dressed. I think that about covers it.

And this afternoon some 30 years later, I have to say "Thank God for curling" because, once again gawky (a broken knee will do that for a girl), weird and poorly dressed (although these jammies are quite nice, if I do say so), it's either curling or the third episode of last season's Canada's Next Top Model.