Tuesday, March 1, 2011

March is for SOCCER!

Here we go. Volume 1, Princess 1.

Josephina ... "Jo" ... came to me first, and she was also the easiest to create. Especially how she looked. Slightly latino, beautiful hot pink gown, but soccer accessories - the soccer socks, cleats, armband, headband, lots of black and white too. Proper parents who didn't understand... who just wished their princess daughter would act like the rest of the princesses in town did. This first book in the series is about a young princess finding who she really is.

Soccer was MY first sport, and probably my favorite sport still, back from my early years going to Uintah Elementary. I was fast. My dad took me running with him often, and would put us me in local races. We played soccer out on the recess field almost every day, and my friends and I joined a "Leopards" team and played on Saturdays.

I was viscious and jealous back then though. I had a major crush on my favorite boyfriend (friend/boy), Taylor Moncur. A grade younger than me, super cute blonde boyish boy. (How can you not be boyish though? I was in 3rd grade, he in 2nd!) I used to think he was "mine". We were good friends, playing kissing tag, (my first kiss) trying not to bump elbows when we walked on the sidewalk because that meant we were getting married, running wild together. But then he got a girlfriend in 2nd grade with him, a pretty girl who played aggressively on an opposing soccer team. One of my favorite memories is when we played her team, and she was dribbling the soccer ball my way and I went to kick the ball as hard as I could, only, whoops, missing completely and nailing her in the shin instead.
Don't worry, she didn't even cry. She didn't even know who I was. But it was my little secret, and I felt better afterwards.

Now fast forward 4 years to 7th grade. I was living in Kansas at the time, and two of my girlfriends and I joined a co-ed indoor soccer leage. (whatever. It was so a boy's league. We were the only girls there) Only my little missing-the-soccer-ball-instead-kicking-the-shins didn't work anymore. I remember one time I literally missed and kicked this tall, bronze, god-like muscled male in the shins. (Wait, wasn't this 7th grade?) But instead of inflicting any pain on the guy, MY foot twisted completely backwards, and I was out for a couple weeks. There was my karma, call it what you will. :)

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