Datebook: Thursday, July 26th ~ 2007
I am reminded of the bumper sticker that read. “I can’t be out of money; I still have checks in the checkbook!”
The week prior to the Lake Placid competition, and the week of Lake Placid probably surpass Christmas spending in our house. Indeed, this year it initially felt a bit like re-gifting might take place as we were able to use two of the compulsory dresses from past seasons.
Mistakenly I thought this translated into a savings.
This morning I put the stamp on the check to be mailed to the costume designer that will now complete the 6000.00 payment for only three dresses. I can easily identify with the recent Harry Potter movie where he was forced to write “I will not lie” on his paper but it came out as a painful bloody scar on his hand. My BicClic kept wanting to write, “I buy Ice Dancing Dresses and I Can’t Stop” on my forearm as some sort of fresh ink tattoo.
I might feel better about all of this if I had actually seen any of the completed costumes. But I haven’t.
The previously mentioned gold waltz dress is advised to be “Sensational” and “Indescribable”, which is odd because in my head I often describe it and have several pet names for it, and one of them goes something like, “OMG, she’s wearing my Hawaiian vacation”.
I have decided I will not look at any of the costumes on until my daughter takes to the ice for the warm-up, and then for the price I paid, during the CD waltz competition, I am imagining the announcer will lose all capacity of speech after she glides onto the ice, and everyone in her group will get an extra fifteen minutes while the referees decide if the reflection factor is too brilliant for the judges to access. I mean, I’ve heard that judges often make notes and jot down the color of the costumes the team wears—I would hate to think we have made this a hardship for the judges who will be rendered clueless as to what to put down to describe this dress.
The thing I am most afraid of is that a spectator, someone there to see the ski jumps perhaps, but who wandered into the arena by accident, will say something like, “Oh, that shiny dress is cute, I’ll bet she got that at Macy’s after prom season was over because I saw something just like that on the 75% off rack.”
Only parents, and judges who used to compete understand what goes into the concept of “costuming”. In fact, when we check in at the competition desk at Lake Placid we should be given a little pin with a number on it to designate how many costumes we have had to purchase since our children started skating. Anyone with the number 30 or higher would earn a little lycra swatch badge shaped like the traditional ribbons of support for other diseases.
Of course, this might be too hard for Ann to put together at the last minute like this, so maybe we could just start with those sticky “Hello” patches and just write in our own number and any other pertinent data we want to share.
Mine will read:
“Hello….I’ve had 28 ice dance costumes made. I don’t take vacations in Fiji and I still don’t drink…that much…yet.”
Mombo
The week prior to the Lake Placid competition, and the week of Lake Placid probably surpass Christmas spending in our house. Indeed, this year it initially felt a bit like re-gifting might take place as we were able to use two of the compulsory dresses from past seasons.
Mistakenly I thought this translated into a savings.
This morning I put the stamp on the check to be mailed to the costume designer that will now complete the 6000.00 payment for only three dresses. I can easily identify with the recent Harry Potter movie where he was forced to write “I will not lie” on his paper but it came out as a painful bloody scar on his hand. My BicClic kept wanting to write, “I buy Ice Dancing Dresses and I Can’t Stop” on my forearm as some sort of fresh ink tattoo.
I might feel better about all of this if I had actually seen any of the completed costumes. But I haven’t.
The previously mentioned gold waltz dress is advised to be “Sensational” and “Indescribable”, which is odd because in my head I often describe it and have several pet names for it, and one of them goes something like, “OMG, she’s wearing my Hawaiian vacation”.
I have decided I will not look at any of the costumes on until my daughter takes to the ice for the warm-up, and then for the price I paid, during the CD waltz competition, I am imagining the announcer will lose all capacity of speech after she glides onto the ice, and everyone in her group will get an extra fifteen minutes while the referees decide if the reflection factor is too brilliant for the judges to access. I mean, I’ve heard that judges often make notes and jot down the color of the costumes the team wears—I would hate to think we have made this a hardship for the judges who will be rendered clueless as to what to put down to describe this dress.
The thing I am most afraid of is that a spectator, someone there to see the ski jumps perhaps, but who wandered into the arena by accident, will say something like, “Oh, that shiny dress is cute, I’ll bet she got that at Macy’s after prom season was over because I saw something just like that on the 75% off rack.”
Only parents, and judges who used to compete understand what goes into the concept of “costuming”. In fact, when we check in at the competition desk at Lake Placid we should be given a little pin with a number on it to designate how many costumes we have had to purchase since our children started skating. Anyone with the number 30 or higher would earn a little lycra swatch badge shaped like the traditional ribbons of support for other diseases.
Of course, this might be too hard for Ann to put together at the last minute like this, so maybe we could just start with those sticky “Hello” patches and just write in our own number and any other pertinent data we want to share.Mine will read:
“Hello….I’ve had 28 ice dance costumes made. I don’t take vacations in Fiji and I still don’t drink…that much…yet.”
Mombo
posted by ice-dance.com @ 6:28 PM
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