I heart my 2nd amendment rights

I got to go shooting this week. I haven't been shooting since Bobby and I got married (or rather, since before we got married. We didn't do any shooting at our wedding--and not because Bobby was opposed to the idea, I'm sure.) It was also my first time shooting a handgun; up until now I had only shot rifles. I went with the Young Republican--you'll excuse the expression--Babes (that's the name of the group; I didn't name it, I'm not claiming babedom. Okay, let's let this go, it's getting embarrassing) to Wade's in Bellevue. It was a lot of fun. One of the girls is a policewoman (her husband is a cop, too) and she helped me out; showed me how to stand, load the clip, picked me out a delicious selection of guns to try, all that good stuff. I have no idea what the first gun I shot was, other than that it was a .45 clip, but it had a monster kick-back. It was a good gun to start with, because compared to it, everything else felt great! Even the cop didn't like it (she said it was the gun her husband used; I'm guessing the kick-back doesn't bother him as much). Next I shot a .22 revolver, which was the easiest thing I've ever shot. It was some specialty number that was specifically used for accuracy shooting competitions. It had virtually no kick back, and I even shot a perfect bullseye (once). The last gun I shot was a .45 magnum (also a clip), and it was surprisingly light, with little kickback. Tomika sure knows how to pick 'em. If I'm caught in a dark alley, she's who I want with me. Or if I'm playing tackle football. Or moving a piano.
Tuesdays are ladies night at the gun range (isn't that hilarious?) so we're going to go the last Tuesday of every month. Next month, the girl who arranges our outings is going to try to arrange for us to take turns on a machine gun. I'll do it, but I'm not going to go first.