Caro and number 6

Tonight the ice hockey season began . All summer we had been playing on in-line skates, but tonight the ice was back on and I was ready for it.

I was excited to get back on the ice and smell that particular smell of the rink.  And to hear that particular sound of the zamboni, cleaning and smoothing the ice   I love the anticipation of this bit.

There seemed a lot of people on the ice. And it was mixed sex. Never a good sign as men are usually really fast and good skaters.

There were drills explained on the board and off we went.

I always struggle with instructions of a certain length, and usually rely on my pretty good intuition and ability to copy. However tonight that was a stretch too far. I understood little and even worse could not follow. I ended up trying the exercises and feeling ridiculous, stupid and downright incompetent.

I gave myself some serious self talk.

"Don't give up" "This is something you have to go through to get better". "Everyone was at this stage once" etc etc. 

I came back.

I tried again.

This time I couldn't even join in, I had inertia. If I felt stupid before, now I felt like a fraud. Who the hell did I think I was?  Why did I think I could do this? What on earth was I thinking signing up to join the Swiss ice hockey league?

It was at this stage, tears began forming from sheer frustration. I felt absolutely rotten.

I could not control my emotion. I felt awful.

Shortly after an angel came to me, she wore a number 6 on her shirt. She said, "Don't worry it's tough this week and I remember starting out two years ago. It's hard". And then she smiled. A kind and warm smile, before skating off.

A while later, angel number 2 arrived. This one had a name, she said "Don't give up, it gets better, wait for two more weeks, when we are on our own ice. It's friendly and fun". And again a kind and warm smile.

The difference these two angels made. They gave me confidence and faith that maybe, just maybe, I can do this.

So ask me a year from now, if I did.

I really hope so.

And if not, well I guess there is only so much stretch a girl can pay for!!!

So finally let me leave you with this thought. Do you realise the impact your kind words can have on people? Do you think these two angels thought their comments would be blog worthy?

Unlikely.

So lets all go out there today, and consciously give encourgament and kind words to random people. If we do, things can only get better.

Wrong hair day

I have a selection of wigs. I don’t often keep the old ones, as they get tatty and worn out. Also quite horribly, they also take on a nasty odour of old skin (sorry, but its true)

Ahead of a party we were having at home recently, I decided to try on some choices of wigs, just to see which one I felt like wearing, to go with my little red dress. I guess this is the equivalent of going for a cut and blow for you ladies out there.

I decided on an asymmetrical dark one. Yes, I was happy with this choice.

The rest I packed away. Back in their boxes in the wardrobe. 

Story told. Story over.

Well not quite.

On Monday morning, I did my usual bike ride to work with my hat on of course.  Followed by my walk of shame/pride to the ladies bathrooms near my building. Remember that post?

To my shock, I pulled out the wrong wig. Ooooooooooooooooooo cack!
Oooooooooo double cack! 

That was most definitely not my work wig. That was my party wig!

So what to do?

Well as I am a very practical person, I decided to just get on with my day and wear it.

Luckily, it was a similar length, but oh so different. Luckliy not too crazy but definitely a little more funky that my sensible, conservative work cut.

During the morning, I got a few comments from colleagues, like “oh your hair looks different”. But I smiled and said, yes today it does. Then carried on with my business.

It made me chortle. How silly I felt, but deep down I didn’t care. And you know what, that was good.

I like being a bit different and a tad eccentric.

We all have bad hair days. I just had a wrong hair day!

The secret of feet

I like reading books, especially ones recommend or even better, loaned to me by friends. 

The one I am reading right now, is about body language, and how FBI agents gain insights, into what a person is really saying or hiding, through their movements.

It’s a fun book and definitely got some good tips in there.

The bit that surprised me most is about feet.   Apparently the truth lies in our feet. If they point to the door and not at the person we are talking to, this is not a good sign. It means we want to flee from the conversation.

What’s interesting about body language is that it really is out of our control. It is so automatic and sub conscious, that actively controlling it would be stressful and need a lot of practice.

Another insight on feet was about their whereabouts. If your conversation is comfortable and not intrusive, the other persons feet will be closer to you, however the more stressful the conversation, the more they are likely to withdraw under a chair, away from the other person.

So as of now, don’t be offended, if I start staring at your feet whilst asking you uncomfortable questions, I am just checking out these theories.

And as for you, watch what your feet do today.  It's scarily true.