That's Valerian, isn't she pretty? Yes I name my paintball markers. I name my cars too. My present Jeep is Trick and the Honda is 'the beater car'. It doesn't do the Honda any justice but it is what she is. My husband's marker doesn't have a name, it's not my marker and he changes markers often enough that I don't bother. The 2 he has now though he's had for years. I'm not going to count the Angel, she's on the way out. I bought him one as a birthday present and although people have offered to buy it off of him he wouldn't dare. It was a present from his wife and he falls asleep before she does. Pissing her off at that level is not good for his longevity. I take that back, we did name one of his markers. She's Jurassic Ooze, it's the name of the paint job. All right all right it's not a paint job it's an anno. An electro chemical treatment really so I should get it right. It's a pain to do and as I understand all the people who knew how to do Jurassic Ooze are no longer in business. So the hubby is keeping that marker. His other marker is electronic and was out of commission for years. I finally made all the arrangements necessary to have it fixed and did it for him.
Another long intro to a story you all still have no idea what it's about other than maybe paintball markers. Sorry I digress. I used to play paintball with my hubby. It's a fun fun sport mostly played by men. Why? Because, just like tattoos, you don't really have to ask. It hurts. It hurts a lot. And damn those bruises last for months sometimes. It's still a kick ass sport though and totally worth the pain. Plus I get to hang out with a bunch of guys all day and just be one of the guys. I really do prefer that more than hanging with girls at a spa. Yes I know what you're thinking, there's medication for that I'm sure but really, I like paintball.
Here's the thing. 2 years ago (and I'm sure you all remember this fact) I had brain surgery. Specifically they cut out a large chunk of my skull located in the front half of my head. You can barely see the scar since it's just inside of my hairline but it is right there. They put the skull piece back in but it's still an indented soft spot that will never be as secure as a solid skull. Such is the nature of something that was once one piece and is now 2. I'm ok with this, I'm alive and my brain functions as well as it had before. I am also careful of the fact that I should not do stupid things that would put this soft spot in danger. Like go horseback riding (falling would be bad, worse than for normal people) or play paintball. Those balls move at 350 feet per second. If they hit a bare cheek or an eye they would break the bone or destroy the eye. They move hella fast and hit hella HARD. That's why we wear full masks. The mask, however, does not fully cover the forehead. I know, I've been tagged there before and it HURTS LIKE HELL. No way my bone chunk wouldn't suffer and hit my soft brain with one of those hits.
Consequently I knew from the get go that my paintball career was over after the surgery. It's ok, the only people that really lament it are the boys (like my hubby) that really like girls playing paintball. It's a novelty and all paintballers want a girlfriend that plays. It does it for them. Even though most women who play paintball suck, they just aren't aggressive enough. Something I found terribly annoying, being a kind of overly aggressive female. Not that ya'll knew that already or anything. Right? Yeah I thought not.
This, of course, leaves me with Valerian. I was going to keep her as a back up for the hubby but now that I got his Excal (electronic marker) fixed he doesn't really need 3 markers. And ya'll remember how I have this camera conundrum right? Just need a spare grand or so to get a set up that I want. Do you have any idea how much Val is worth? About $1200. Yeah getting my ass on the paintball field was expensive. I had to have just the right marker with just the right barrel kit and they all had to be annoed to match. Red. It's my power color. Seriously, all my paintball stuff is red. I wasn't going for subtle on the field. I was a back player, if you didn't always know where I was at I wasn't doing my job right. Sorry, I'm sure that makes no sense to you guys. I was like the umpire in back, screaming to let everyone know where everybody else was at and where they needed to go. And dumping paint like it was going out of style, back players never stop shooting. So yeah, they're not the sneak up and shoot you type on the filed, that's the front players job. Red, it's not a color for front players.
All this to let the world know that I'm moving on. Getting rid of the old to move on to the new. I could say that I'm getting old but that's not entirely true. I am getting old but I'd still be on the paintball field if my brain wasn't at such risk. Oh and if it wasn't 104-105 degrees outside every day. Oh my ever loving god it's hot out this year. We're breaking records ans just waiting for some raging fire. No green out here anymore, it's all burnt to a crisp. One good spark and I swear this whole state is going up in smoke. I'm not sure I could handle the heat on the paintball fields right now. Good thing I can use my frontal lobotomy as an excuse right?
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