Today was a great day. I had it in my mind when I went to bed last night that I would walk the 4.2 miles (one way) to the nearest surf/skate shop to get a skateboard. One of my New Year’s Resolutions is to start learning how to skateboard again. By the time I actually woke up, I wasn’t so keen on that idea, but I told myself I would just take it one step at a time, starting with getting out of bed and getting dressed, and decide later. As I had thought, I decided to do it.

The walk was pretty nice. I actually might do some of it again. It’s always great going there, it’s the coming back when you start to wonder when it’s ever going to end. I got to the shop, and the nice guy who was working there helped me find a decent board and all the gear I need.

So I want you to meet my new friend, Bob Stella (first name subject to change):

(the colours on my webcam really suck…)

I wanted to go to the skatepark after, but I waited thirty minutes for the bus and it never showed, so I gave up and just walked home.

Skating on sidewalks or anywhere other than on the university campus/at the skatepark is illegal here. ‘Cause this city’s lame. But I put on my pads and helmet and did it anyways. I waited until I was in the residential areas, though, as I didn’t want to lose control of my board or go splat on a busy road and get run over.

Ohmygoshskateboardingissofun. I mean, I knew it was, but I’d forgotten just how much. 😀 I owe my interest in skateboarding to my nDad. He’s a musician/surfer/skater, in fact, it’s ridiculous how much we’re alike, and how much I’m like my Mom, too. But I seem to take after my paternal family a bit more than my maternal family. When I think about it, I kinda feel cheated. When I was younger, early teen/teen, I wanted to be a musician. I played piano, I was teaching myself guitar, I wrote songs (music and lyrics), I was trying to sing better… My aparents were superficially supportive, at least of my piano playing. They don’t think being a musician is a real career or an aspiration anyone should have.

Funny, that. My nDad was a bassist in a touring punk band in the 1980s and 1990s. No, they weren’t anywhere close to big, but I never cared about that and neither did he. (Besides it was punk, “big” is like the antithesis of punk). He plays guitar, cello, bass, and has lots of electronic devices. My cousin on that side is in an a capella group at his university. My nGrandmother was a working musician when my nDad was younger. My grandpa plays instruments. All of my freakin’ paternal family is musically-inclined, and everyone in that family supports each other in that respect. I was all alone in my love of music and desire to play every instrument known to man and to create my own music. I can’t help but wonder where I’d be if I had grown up surrounded by people who were like me.

Same thing with skating and surfing (and motorcycle racing). I love those things, but they weren’t even on my radar until after I met my nDad. I feel like I’ve been going through life blind, and now that I’ve met people similar to me, it’s easier for me to find things that interest me, that I’m good at, and that I enjoy. It’s like suddenly having a compass. I actually have some common ground with my parents, it’s amazing. I just can’t help but feel that adoption robbed me of my chance to grow up understood and guided through life by people who resemble me in many, many ways. I’m 23 now. I could have had these outlets and this relief my whole life, except Catholics suck and they like giving babies away to random strangers.

But I love my new skateboard, Bob. He’s great, and we will have great times together.

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