I was really anxious about going, and very apprehensive about what would happen: sounds like dental surgery? Not at all sure I was fully committed but past the point of backing out, knowing that I had to finish what I had started: sounds like childbirth? Thinking I might just plead nausea, and go lock myself in the bathroom: sound like a blind date? Wondering 'what was I thinking" when I agreed to go: sound like jumping out of a perfectly good airplane? It took me sleeping on it and having my little pondering hour this morning at 4:00 am, to decide I think I had enough fun to want to do it again... maybe. In about 364 days...
Went to Decatur yesterday morning to play 'paintball' with my little brood and several complete strangers, people who just ambled up about the same time we did, apparently with their own 'groupons',knowing the meter was ticking, time was running out for their own 'fun opp.'. F. lost her mind several months ago and purchased two 'groupons' for us to go, and we had to get it done before mid-January when they expired. The only time we could all get together was this week, so against better judgement and basic sanity: I went. They kept looking at me all afternoon, asking if I was 'OK?' Having fun? Enjoying myself? So under all the safety equipment, I must have looked pretty stressed out, visibly apprehensive... And it took getting almost to the end of a 500 count bag of little marble sized thin-shelled plastic balls filled with bright orange paint for me to say: well, what the hell... and start blasting away.
Blessedly those grubby little guys who were running the paintball establishment really seriously focus on safety (to their own benefit I am sure, as one accident could quickly put them out of business!) We amused ourselves for several hours with no more damage than some welts and bruises that will soon become badges of honor. (What is it about guys that makes them want to rehash the story of the biggest fish, largest mammal, woolly mammoth hunt over and over?) We were assured the paint will wash out, but you'll have to wait for 'news at 11:00' for that report. Little Grubby Guys had a couple of different scenarios set up and we were divided variously into teams to shoot one another - mildly amusing. Probably 'way more fun for those with testerone pumping, but it was an interesting experience, and entertaining enough (in retrospect) for me to demand a rematch.
I've had a chance to inspect my parts for damage, and found big bruises on my right forearm, about 3 inches in diameter, and one a little bigger, where I must have taken a closer hit on the left upper arm that is really sore - but since it is right where I got my flu shot about a week ago, I did not think much of it, until I pulled off my long sleeves and looked, thankful that it is not on my face! I was a bit wussy when we started, so expect the other more adventuresome enthusiasts have much more impressive bruises to show for all that fun we had...
So: yesh, we had fun...and togetherness and laughing, smiles, family, being with people who have a really strange sense of humor (that they attribute to a genetic predisposition and completely beyond their control).
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