Beginnings and Beginnings

i have decided to take my hockey training more seriously. well, serious for a complete amateur, anyway. Brian and i did go to the gym this morning, and about an hour or so after i took him to work, i grabbed my goalie pants, leg pads, and skates, and did not procrastinate about getting my ass out the door to go to public skate.

a rat hockey (pick-up game) session just ended as i arrived. there were maybe three or four people left hanging around, and i recognized one of them–the ex-boyfriend, Tony, with whom i ran away to Colorado in 1991. more on that later. as an aside, i didn’t play hockey when we were dating.

anyway, he and another player, a woman named Wendy who actually plays for one of my team’s opponents, invited me to the next rat hockey game, which is this Friday at 8:30am. a bit too early for me, especially since i have practice late on Thursday night, but they’ll be playing again next Tuesday.

the entire exchange between Tony and me was completely innocent–he’s been married for several years now and has a baby. i really believe that he and Wendy were sincere in inviting me to join them for hockey. who knows? maybe they’ll know a goalie who can give me some pointers or something. however, the history between Tony and me is important because it was one of the seeds that was planted and that bloomed into my life as it is today. still, running into him today was unsettling.

anyway, i had the ice to myself, and although i didn’t stay the entire hour-and-a-half, i did practice my T-glides, which, according to Wikipedia, is:

A technique used by goaltenders to move in a lateral direction. To perform a t-push, a goaltender directs his/her outside skate in the desired direction, pushing with both legs, covering the five hole. This method of lateral movement is most effective when the puck is close to the net.

considering that the Tigers don’t have a goalie coach, for me it was a start. anyway, if you’re interested, you can read the story about Tony and me below, and a somewhat abbreviated version of how i got to where i am today, not in hockey, but in life in general.

Tony and i ran away to Colorado in 1991, shortly before my 22nd birthday (he was 23 or 24). we packed up as much of our stuff as we could fit into our Cavalier hatchback (that a friend of ours co-signed for), broke our apartment lease, and moved without telling a single soul–not friends, not family, nobody.

Tony, who’s adopted, located his real life brother who was living in a college town in Colorado at the time, which is why we moved there. needless to say, things didn’t work out. we couldn’t find jobs; i mean, there were people with PhDs working at 7-Eleven.

we lived in this bungalow apartment complex, and in exchange for rent, we “fixed up” our apartment–painted the walls, shit like that. we were both heavy drinkers and doing drugs. it was just a bad, bad scene. we were so broke, that when i didn’t have enough money for cigarettes, which was often, i smoked our neighbor Ted’s cigarette butts.

after a couple of months, Tony became physically abusive. as for me, my borderline personality symptoms were in full effect. one day, Ted couldn’t take the two of us fighting anymore. he bought me a one-way Amtrak ticket to Chicago and gave me $20 spending money. when i arrived at Union station, all i had was that $20 bill and a duffle bag of clothes. this is why i no longer have any of my baby pictures or other mementos from my childhood. if they still exist, they’re probably scattered somewhere along the Rockies.

before leaving Colorado, i called my dad and asked if i could move back home. he said that if it were up to him, then of course i could; but my mother refused to allow it. i called an old club friend to see if he could hook me up with this call-girl ring that an acquaintance of ours worked for. he said he would try, but strongly discouraged me from pursuing that line of work.

fortunately, my friend Teri, who i lost track of long ago, let me stay with her and her roommate Brenda until i could get on my feet. that was maybe in August or September of 1991. a month or so later i got that horrid reception job i posted about recently, and moved into a loft with three other people.

so you see, everything that i have now, whether it’s material possessions, education, or just plain old knowledge, started with $20 and a duffle bag of clothes. though i had help from friends along the way, i had no help from my parents (i put myself through college and grad school). it wasn’t until i finally started “making” something of myself, fulfilling whatever expectations that my parents had for me or whatever, that they began helping me out, like helping me move to Ohio when i went away to grad school, and then only so they could brag about it and show me off to their friends.

i’m really pissed at my mom right now again, and this has something to do with it. i’ll try to post about it tomorrow. no promises though. ok?