The Game is on...

Well, I somewhat successfully have played 2 rugby games. We have a small team (in terms of our physical, body size, not numbers) in comparison to the other teams we've played, so it's been brutal at times. I like tackling and being tackled by the bigger girls better anyway, cause it doesn't hurt as much when they break my fall.

I play flanker, so basically my only goal is to tackle and be tackled. A very versatile position. I rarely have to touch the ball. A couple nice bruises grace my knees and legs. My bones ache. My muscles are sore. My ankle got slightly twisted. All for the love of the game. Okay, so I wouldn't call it love yet, but there is a fascination that keeps me attending practice. The rugby socials are also quite fascinating, in which the ruggers (this is what rugby players are called; I'm learning the lingo) are quite frequently lesbian and who like to sing really dirty, slightly offensive songs about, well, just about anything. So the pickings are slim (for me anyways) at these female charged socials. I'm making nice friends though, which is always nice.

Finally finished reading

Heart is a Lonely Hunter

. Outcome: Depressing. I guess it's good to be at a healing farm if I must be depressed. But seriously, I'm by no means a "it has to be happily ever after" kind of person to enjoy a book. I tend to like sad, serious, even messed-up stuff. But this was just an intense kind of realism in which all the characters ended in the bottom of their darkest pits with no way out. Maybe I missed the glimmer of hope at the end. Promise, I looked hard. Just couldn't find it. True enough.

Otherwise, work is good. We got a full house again with 12 residents in our lodge, so the dull moments are few and far between, which keeps the clock ticking at a rapid pace. I have no idea how it's already March. I'm super looking forward to the Wilco concert and seeing friends in Knoxville, in less than 2 weeks. And even more super looking forward to being in Arkansas/Oklahoma for 10 days come April. It's better than birthdays.