Billionaire Bling Skates

I fell in love with some blinged out roller skates but managed to steer clear of buying a pair seeing as how I’d likely break my tailbone (again) if I tried to roller skate.

It’s true.

Anything that decreases the amount of friction I experience with the earth is just an early warning signal that I will be injuring myself.


Never got the hang of it.

Kept crossing my skis and losing my poles.

Ice skating?

Same thing.

My brain says GO but my legs say NO!

And snowboarding?

Well that’s how I broke my tailbone in the first place.

I tangled up with a fellow right off the ski lift and the snow was like cement when I hit it.

You should have seen me driving home after that, balancing on one cheek then the other trying to avoid sitting directly on my bum for the pain it caused.

Did you know that when you sneeze or laugh with a broken tailbone, you feel pain in your butt?


I’d beg my kids not to make me laugh and they’d set about trying to make me laugh because they thought it was funny.

And it was.

A little.

Nevertheless, me and the Billionaire Bling Roller skates ($110) will not be making each other’s acquaintance any time soon.

Despite my over-the-moon love for them.



I’ve been thinking about hockey.

A lot.

Not because the Sharks are winning.


Because The Swede and his goalie-daughter are big fans of hockey.

I have never played hockey.

The closest I’ve ever come to playing hockey was singing Christmas carols with the Boston Pops orchestra on the ice during the 1995 holiday season.

I do have skills, however.

I can ice skate.

Not well, but much better than I ski or snowboard.

All those sports which decrease the amount of friction I have with the ground, thereby increasing the chances I have of getting hurt, I tend to avoid.

The last time I snowboarded, I broke my tailbone.

I had to drive all the way home from Reno in a minivan with two little boys and my mom while perched precariously on one butt cheek then the other, desperate not to laugh or sneeze.

It’s been even longer since I ice skated.

My sister took me up to Squaw Valley over a decade ago and we skated around their ice rink a bit.

At first I was very wobbly and had to hold on to the railing.

Eventually, I got the hang of it and I could skate without assistance.

But I was by no means proficient at it.

I could get on the ice and take slap shots at the goal and NOT FALL DOWN.


So then it goes without saying that when The Swede posts pictures and videos of his daughter DOING HER THING on the ice, I am of course BLOWN AWAY.

She makes me wish I was more athletically inclined.

Not just an athletic supporter.

Is it bad to be too bored to date?

Is it bad to be too bored to date?  Honestly, if I have to go to Los Gatos for one more dinner date I may just fling myself into Vasona Lake and go for a long cold swim.  After my $1,000 date with Edward, no other date will come close.  Edward ruined me by setting the bar too high.  No more fancy dinners.

Honestly, I’d love for someone to just take me to the beach for a bonfire, or a sports game, or skating/falling at the ice skating rink.  That could be fun.  Hell, I’d even enjoying going to a park and flying a kite.

Anything but dinner in Los Gatos.  The waiters all know me there and think I’m slutty with all the dinner dates I have.

Little do they know.

Last night I was expecting to get three phone calls from three men I met online – Tony the Italian physical therapist, David the 6’6” pinot lover, and Anthony the camper.

So when Tony called, I naturally said, “Hello David.”

“Wrong horse,” he laughed.

Big oops!

Not the best way to start a conversation with someone new.  We had the standard getting-to-know-you conversation which was unremarkable and slightly boring.  I tried to get off the phone but he kept me on until I agreed to a date.

IN LOS GATOS.  At a restaurant OF MY CHOICE.

Any of this sounding familiar?

Welcome to the wonderful world of internet dating.  Pin a medal on me and call me “Genius.”

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Anthony Tony