Swizzle is the Best Name for Anything Ever.

Yesterday morning, after hitting the snooze button about seven times, I headed out the door to be humiliated. I don’t know why my complete inability to ice skate embarrasses me so much. I don’t know anyone there except a three year old in my Cubbie class who is so consumed with his fear of falling that he doesn’t even know I’m there. (I’m in a small class so the rink is divided into two classes, one adult class and one little kid class.)

Come to think of it, I don’t know if I’m embarrassed because of my terrible skating, or because I’m routinely making a fool of myself in a teenage girl kind of way. By that I mean getting up early to put on make-up and pick out a really cute outfit just so I can look nice when I say “Size eight please.” before my lesson.

The lesson actually didn’t go as badly as I thought it would. I can now skate around the rink without falling down, finally. So that’s good, but I’m also learning a few actual ice skating moves like stopping. The way I used to stop was to ram into the wall at full speed. Although it was effective, it really wasn’t very fun.

I learned some other moves as well, one of them was what I think is called a swizzle, the other being a two foot glide. I almost knocked the coach over when I rammed into her after doing an over enthusiastic swizzle. I was supposed to learn a jump, but I flat out refused. Like algebra, I can’t think of a single reason I would even need to use that skill. Except the winter Olympics of course and that will never happen, so I would prefer not to die trying. I’m not very cooperative.

After mom picked me up from ice skating, we went out lunch with some of my extended family, My almost-eight-year-old cousin, and my grandparents. We went to Arby’s and made lunch much harder than it should have been. First, I forgot to order, then wondered why my food never came. Then my sister spilled her drink all over her food and herself. Then there was a deal with a milkshake that I don’t quite remember.

The reason we got together was so we could watch my cousins little league game. And that’s always fun considering he doesn’t really want to play. But still I like to be there cheering for him. My mom gets really into it. By the time we left, she had cheered for every member of the team at least twice, and all the members of the opposing team. But I will say she cheered for my cousin the most. But I swear she learned all the kids names.

We had to leave early because my sister had to work, and Mom and I had to get ready for a dinner party with my parents friends. I was tagging along because being home alone has gotten really old. There are only so many times a week I can be home alone before singing loudly in the foyer gets really old.

I ended up having a really good time. We went to an amazing restaurant, with an incredibly detailed ceiling. But what really stood out in my brain, was that I had six shirley temples (In case you don’t know, it’s cherry sprite) and a total of eighteen cherries. That’s like half a bottle of maraschino cherries. Every time I finished one, the waiter would just bring me a new one. I might hold a record now. I don’t know. This has been the random writings of Leila. Thanks for tuning in!

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