Nobody asks for this

No parent asks for their child to become a skateboarder.
Believe me, they don't.
Especially it's their little daughter who grew up playing with American Dolls and watching Disney Princess movies.

They start out with a little bit of reluctance.
Glancing warily at the guys with skinny jeans, long hair, and arm casts.
They come with you (cos, honestly, how is a 14 year old going to get around?) to the store, and
watch over your shoulders as you talk skateboards with the guy in tattoos and piercings.
Smile proudly as you pay a whopping $150 for your shiny new skateboard.

Pick you up when you fall. Are always there with the band aids. Wince when you go down a monstrosity of a ramp. That is their job, as parents.

They're scared when you're the only girl in a skate park full of teenage guys who are smoking what they refer to as sh*t.

But, it was so worth it all when yesterday, as my brother told me, my Mom was waiting for me in the car, looked up, and gasped: "Is that Jillian?".

Soooo sooooo worth it.


  1. Wait, what happened?! Why was she surprised?

  2. I was just doing some bigger ramps, I'm not sure exactly when she said it, cos my brother told me later.

  3. Ah! Maybe I should become a skateboarder.

    Then again, the tough guys that board around my neighborhood would probably collapse into fits of laughter as soon as they saw me.

  4. Isn't that a nice feeling when you impress your parents by doing something you love that they don't like? I love feeling like that.

  5. Gosh I somehow envy you. I've always had thís facination for skaterboarding and skateboarders. I don't know what's about them but there is something. My friends brothers used to skateboard alot and was really good and won stuff and so, so I hurry catched up the idea about it but was either to lazy or clumsy to ever learn it, unfortunet.


"Sometimes the world seems like a big hole. You spend all your life shouting down it and all you hear are echoes of some idiot yelling nonsense down a hole"
_Adam Duritz

I love hearing things that aren't my own pathetic echoes.