Knuckle-Dragging 101

And they say there aren't any heroes left...

2012-01-28T12:00:00.000-08:00

I've talked about how much Dr. Seuss, Shel Silverstein, and Maurice Sendak have influenced me artistically when I was but a small child. This week found a reminder of one of those artistic heroes for me in the form of Steve Colbert interviewing Maurice Sendak. I came away with the impression that Sendak is fighting a valiant battle against mediocrity when he was talking about modern children's books. I also came away with the impression that he's really damn sharp and took Colbert's sense of humor well.

And then I found an interview on NPR that was aired late last year. This was a flip side in general attitude, as NPR is a less sarcastic outlet than Colbert. It was very thoughtful and emotional, and I have to admit I sat and had tears streaming down my cheeks as I listened to a sad, old man who misses his old friends.

Where am I going with this? I wish I could meet him and say THANK YOU. That even though the millions of strangers who love his books can't be as nearly a good substitute for the people he misses in his life, I do think all those people love what he does. His fight against mediocrity has not gone unnoticed. I've heard one shouldn't meet their heroes, but I would still like to say that to him and then skedaddle before he says something biting that would crush my soulless soul.

PS: Semi-nonsequitir...I also would say something similar to Michelle Obama if I ever got the chance to meet her. She's one hell of a poised individual who gets way more shit than she should for just doing her job!

My job here is done...

2012-01-25T19:20:00.000-08:00

Preview of the skater artwork for Battle on the Bank V:

I dig it.

Even though I said I wasn't going to constantly talk about my diet shit on the blog, I have thoughts to share:

Writing down everything I eat is tedious. And it's keeping me from snacking. Which is good, and it's gotten me within spitting range of my goal weight. I have cheekbones again! Yay!

Yoga X is horrible.

Kenpo X is fun.

Core Synergistics makes me want to be a thousand times more flexible than I am.

I'm skating a lot less, and so the tendonitis in my knee has gotten a lot less noticeable. Damn, I really did have to retire after all!

I hope I can keep up this momentum. I'm liking the results so far.

Ch-ch-changes...

2012-01-06T11:01:00.000-08:00

Going from an active team skater to a retired-but-still-skating skater has been interesting.

I'm still skating multiple times a week. Sometimes it's a beach skate, sometimes it's wRECk League, sometimes it's pickup scrimmages, sometimes it's visiting another league's practice. That amount of skating is good, because on the beach skates, the tendonitis in my knee starts letting me know that it's determined to take up permanent residence. Not good if I was still on a team. But for general messing around? No biggie.

The other thing I'm now doing is resetting my body. After working in a studio that has Bagel Mondays, Donut Wednesdays and lots of other bad foods around often, I gained weight and couldn't take it off. I'm one of those people that has to be vigilant about bread and starch intake because I'll bloat up like a puffer fish, and I had lapsed in that vigilance.

Throw in the holidays where I ate and drank my way to more weight gain, and things started to be stupid for me. After eating my weight in cheese and pizza the last two days of 2011, I found myself 17 pounds heavier than when I started derby eight years ago. UNACCEPTABLE.

Now, I'll admit that some of that 17 pounds isn't just fat. There's muscle in there. Especially in my legs. My quadroceps are doing just fine in particular. Once upon a time I hit an all-time high of 20 pounds over my starating-at-derby weight, and it was allllll FAT. Real fat. Fat-fat. But still...

Luckily for me I got a six week unpaid hiatus from work, and that's the perfect time to reset my eating habits, diet, and forms of exercise while I'm at home enjoying not having to be anywhere on a schedule. My parents had gotten me an Amazon gift card, and I bought the P90x exercise program with it. I started it this week, and cut out cheese, bread, pizza, and other starchy stuff from my diet. I'm trying to eat as much whole food as possible: salads galore, meat that's recognizable, etc. The one big vice I'm not giving up is my morning sugar free Red Bull. Don't bother telling me how horrible it is for me, I need something to look forward to in the mornings.

I started a food journal. It's amazing how accountable I am when I have to write everything down with a calorie count next to it. I noticed I'm not snacking nearly as much as I used to, because writing everything down is a pain in the tuchus and I'm lazy. The downside? I'm obsessed with the calorie counts, and have been eating too few calories for the amount of exercise I'm now getting this week.

That ended up biting me in the ass this morning when doing the Legs and Back P90x workout and I thought I was going to pass out. Had to stop the tape and go eat a Larabar for quick calories. It helped, and I limped through the rest of the workout. But it made me realize that I have to be better about regulating what I'm doing or else I'm going to crash and burn like I did today, or end up running to Johnnie's Pastrami in a fit of ZOMG I'M SO DAMN HUNGRY AND I NEED TO EEEEEEAAAAAT!!! mood swing and inhaling five pastrami sandwiches, then passing out in a food-induced coma, only to wake up puking my guts out.

Some people start a food blog when they do a diet, recording their daily food intake and exercise regimen. I won't bore you with daily details. I'll bore you with my goal: to get back down to the weight I was when I started derby. That's really it. The P90x program will also help with my strength and muscle tone, but to me that's a bonus. I just want the weight off.

I also hope that with the time off from work and not needing to be at the track so often, I'll be able to rekindle any kind of drawing for myself. I feel so burned out, and haven't been taking in much inspiration to get kick-started again.

Ahhh, that's better!

FUN!

2011-12-13T22:28:00.000-08:00

Last Sunday I got to take part in a fun event with the Oxnard banked track league, Sugartown. They've been around for a couple of years, and frankly have had an...interesting existence. Things haven't always been smooth in the general Ventura area with them and the local flat track leagues, and it got weirder when they hired LADD's old coach for about a year.

Then Sugartown came to their senses.

They were scheduled to have an exhibition game at a yearly biker event called Chopperfest. Which is really brilliant if you ask me...bikers and roller derby?! A perfect combination! I would be intrigued if I wasn't already involved with both! Problem was, Sugartown hit rock bottom by losing their warehouse practice space, the coach, and a bunch of skaters at around the same time a couple months ago.

O NOES.

So they reached out to the local derby community and asked for help. All kinds of help. SO much help. Sugartown came to weekly practices in LA. They asked to borrow skaters for the Chopperfest event, which they were calling the Sugartown Smackdown. They needed a ruleset to skate by. They needed refs to enforce the ruleset. They needed announcers. They were overwhelmed with the prospect of pulling this off, but they needed to do it to try for survival.

And in a frantic two and a half months, they got themselves an event. Suzy Snakeyes, Figg Lebowski, Helen Surly Frown and myself volunteered to skate the event from LADD. PITA and Pinky P'okerface amongst others led the charge of Orange County, quite a few West Coast Derby Knockouts showed up, a lone badass from Missile Mountain in Colorado, and the remaining skaters of Sugartown were split into two teams to skate exhibition scrimmages on the hour, every hour, for four hours.

IT WAS SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Apparently some of the less experienced skaters were nervous about their skating abilities on the bank, but they needn't have worried as the track was very slippery due to the cold and humidity, thus it became the Great Equalizer for us all. Everyone was slipping and sliding early in the day, and that kept us humble and more likely to work together during scrimmaging just so that we didn't hurtle ourselves into the infield unexpectedly.

And then we started getting comfortable. Here is a hilarious sequence of me trying to terrorize the opposing jammer, Saracuda, who skates with WCDK. To be honest, the only reason I went for this approach was because I was told she was scared of me. HA!

Closeup of the same sequence. When I turned around to hit her, she literally squeaked. It was adorable. She went on to score points, by the by.

I miss skating with and against PITA.

Something you don't see very often, and for good reason. Me jamming. I actually scored points, though!

Look at this group. I'll skate with them ANYTIME.

The Sugartown girls say that for next year, they want to invite more skaters to put together the teams for this event. Which I think is fantastic! I can't wait for 2012! This derby retirement thing is going pretty well so far!

Scrambled Rant Just In Time for My Birthday

2011-12-05T22:53:00.000-08:00

Remember that time the Blood & Thunder Roller Derby World Cup happened in Toronto? I sure as hell do. And the kvetching that went along with it from the online spectators has put me in an incredibly foul mood.

Y'all have already forgotten modern derby's roots. And they're important to remember, especially in this very transitionary period of the derbz.

Remember that time when modern derby started as a DIY sport? And still is? Remember because of that, things aren't going to go as slick as it would if, say, Adidas and Nike were footing the bill to put on an inaugural event such as the World Cup. When the planning is done by a small group of skaters and volunteers and everything is new and there's no money, shit isn't going to be as grand as some of the events you see covered online, whether it's WFTDA Championships or Derby Dolls games.

And then when things don't go off as exactly as planned, it really, REALLY doesn't help to get a constant stream of bitching. WHERE'S THE VIDEO FEED (that you're watching for free)?!?!?

WHY IS THE AUDIO MUDDY(that you're hearing for free)?!?!?!?!?!

WHY IS THE CAMERA IN THAT SPOT?!?!?!?

HOW COME THE TRACK LOOKS DARK!??!?! WHERE'S THE LIGHTING?!?!?!?!

OMG IS THAT CONCRETE?! THAT CAN'T BE SAFE. IT'S PAINFULLY EASY TO GET SPORT COURT.

THOSE PILLARS ARE STUPID. WHY COULDN'T THEY GET A BIGGER AND BETTER SPACE?!?!?!?

BLOWOUTS ARE BORING. WHAT ABOUT THE FANS?!?!?!?! THEY MUST BE BORRRRED!!!! THANK GOODNESS THIS ISN'T ON TV OR ELSE WE'LL LOSE OUR (very small compared to other sports)AUDIENCE!!!

WE SHOULD GET RID OF SKATE NAMES SO THAT THIS WILL BE A "LEGIT" SPORT!

For fuck's sake, people. I want to punch each and every person who made such comments. Because those comments didn't come from people who were working for the event. Yet these came from people within the derby community as a whole. You should know better by now. You really should. Derby has eaten your life and you're still not getting paid. Guess what? Neither was anyone involved in this event.

There's some heavy-duty expectation failure going on here. It's completely unreasonable to expect this event or derby overall to hatch fully formed, perfect and ready for tv, the Olympics, or whatever form of "legit" you kick around a la Athena bursting out of Zeus' forehead. It didn't work in Seltzer's era, it's not going to work now.

The way these criticisms were presented is no bueno, because they fail to take into account the volunteer nature of the event. Would the people who said the above in that tone (in some cases much ruder tones) do that to Black Dahlia, Robin Graves, ToRD, Hurt Reynolds, Gnosis and Justice Feelgood Marshall's faces? I would hope not.

Constructive criticism is needed to make the future of derby better. Key word here is CONSTRUCTIVE. You got something to say? Don't be a doosh about your presentation of the criticism. Think very carefully about said presentation when handing out criticisms to a volunteer unless you're angling for their job. Derby is a microcosm of life in that I've found that those who bitch the most don't necessarily volunteer to do the heavy lifting the most. My message to you: PUT UP OR SHUT UP. If all of this was so damned easy, everyone would be doing it.

Other notes:

Petty shit first: getting rid of skate names is a red herring to making the sport "legit". I can't even get a decent definition of what "legit" is supposed to mean. TV? Olympics? Sponsorship? No one can really tell me. I had an online viewer repeatedly say that skate names is holding derby back. I asked how, but he couldn't explain why and kept dodging the question. It finally came out that his wife started with a local league and was stressed out over her skate name, not her skating ability. Dude. REALLY? Sounds like misplaced priorities to me if one is so worried about being in a "legit" sport. But I can tell you this: if getting rid of skate names would've bought a tv deal for derby IT WOULD'VE HAPPENED ALREADY.
Now that we have that out of the way, let's get to the meat of the situation...

If you want derby in the Olympics or on tv, you need double-digit numbers of leagues who can play TOP-LEVEL derby. The US isn't at that point yet. There's a handful of top leagues, and then the dropoff of gameplay is dramatic. Look at the top teams in the world...sooooooo not ready for the Olympics right now. I don't think the Olympic committee is going to buy, "OK, the US is by far the top team now, but just you wait! By the time you approve of our sport for Olympic inclusion, we'll have other countries up and running! We promise!" You have GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME. Rethink your approach and timeline and be more realistic.

That is not a slam on any league or country that's skating derby and putting everything they have into it. I don't think most of the US skaters realize how goddam difficult it is for non-US skaters to even get a space to practice in, much less establish a functioning league, getting equipment(hello, most derby skates are Riedell, a US brand, so they have to be imported. NOT CHEAP. And unless you're in Australia, the other major boot manufacturers are in Australia. ALSO NOT CHEAP.), and setting up competitive interleague play. The stories I've heard this year both from when I went to the UK and Amsterdam and over the weekend reminded me just how goddam LUCKY US skaters are. Growth isn't going to be quite at the rate it's been in the US. But WOW, I saw some amazing skaters from all the countries who represented this past weekend. I was so happy for them and their experiences!

Because of that difference of derby skill this past weekend, it's good that this wasn't televised on mainstream tv. For someone who didn't have any previous exposure to derby, seeing many of the games with blowout scores would have indeed been boring. Hell, according to my many hours of time spent in the DNN chat rooms, derby fans were bored. But the thing is, interleague is THEE KEY to get everyone's gameplay up. The next World Cup in two years is going to see a dramatic improvement of gameplay by the participating countries, and probably a few new countries, based on the exposure to new people, new strategies, etc. Enough to justify mainstream television coverage? I don't know. Look at how long the US has been doing derby and then look at how many of the US leagues are in that top tier of gameplay. Again, if it's not enough leagues to create televised interest here, then expecting televised coverage of the World Cup at this juncture is kind of a wet dream.

A note about the venue: the Bunker is very similar to the LA Derby Dolls' Doll Factory space in that they're both warehouses with sometimes primitive nuances that make the overall ambiance less about SPORRRRRTS and more about an experience. Which I as a Derby Doll especially appreciated. The Bunker lacked the lighting, paint, and overall spit and polish that the Derby Dolls have done to their space over the past four years, but from what I understand, ToRD hasn't been in that space very long, and finding a suitable mid-sized venue that was affordable was researched but turned out to not be an option.

Overall, my impression of the first World Cup was nostalgic. It was derby 3 years ago. And I liked it. I'm so glad that I decided to eat the cost and go work the event. It made me hopeful for the newer leagues in far away countries as much as it made me frustrated with the expectation failure and "legit" talk from people who haven't realized that we need some out-of-the-mainstream-spotlight growth time to make the sport as good as it can be.

A Visual Timeline from Sunday

2011-11-15T21:19:00.000-08:00

This past weekend was WFTDA Championships in Denver. Well, Broomfield, to be more precise. We didn't see any of Denver, as the game venue and hotel was in Suburb Hell. I've never seen so many SUV's and minvans in my life.

Thankfully we didn't drive much, just to and from the venue.

The games this year were incredible. Every year the gameplay overall gets better and better and better. Discipline seemed to be the outstanding theme to me. The individual skillsets of each skater didn't have the impact of well-disciplined gameplay by the entire team. Gotham proved that.

But of course I was there to drink and heckle. Which I did. Copiously. We even had Team Heckle shirts. We looked good while we yelled.

Here's some photo highlights from Sunday.

In between the two games on Sunday, there was a band that played Salt n' Pepa's Push It, The Knack's My Sharona, and Michael Jackson's Billie Jean amongst other cool stuff:

After the last game, I broke out the Sharpies hastily.

First off, Veronica Scars from Scarred Designs:

Wanton Rebellion quickly followed:

Dinner at one of the local restaurants. We were chided for applauding when two old oblivious farts who wouldn't move when this hoarde of derby miscreants first descended onto the scene finally left after 30 awkward minutes of us glaring at them. By the way, not only were they done with their food, but they were finished with their beverages and their table was otherwise clean. Go talk in the bar, doofus.

Back at the hotel , we found ourselves some Rocky Mountain Roller Girls and Oly Rollers. Drinkin' and rasslin'.

This is actually a calm dogpile by their standards:

I settled down with a glass of wine and the company of Knockser Socksoff and her hubby G. No Evil. Of course I ended up drawing on her:

I love doing Day of the Dead themed pinups!

After I was done with that, Knocks asks if I wanted to draw on Julie. Julie? I wondered to myself, then I realized she was talking about Oly's Atomatrix.

UHM, YEAH. MIGHT AS WELL DRAW ON ONE OF THE BEST SKATERS OUT THERE.

I'm such a fangirl.

RMRG's Deranged had made me promise to draw on her boob earlier in the day. But the hotel was strict enough where I knew the whole rasslin'/drinkin'/drawin' shebang would be shut down faster than Rick Perry's chances of getting into the White House if nudity erupted. So we settled on me giving her a tramp stamp:

O HAI again Atom!

I spotted 2010 WFTDA Champs MVP, Sassy, and managed to get her to not only sit still for a tattoo, but she had to take her shirt off halfway to get it done:

Deranged, Ecko, and Psycho Babble take a little nap using Oly's jackets:

Tannibal Lector was next. She had to rearrange both her shirt and bra to get this done:

And so the night went on. I ended up having a fun conversation with Angel City's GoGo Gidget and Duchess von Damn, as well as fellow Team Heckler Skatum.

Duchess eventually got tired:

And so did Skatum.

The party started to break up for the night, but not before Hellarad's Mister Moxxxie found a mustache soulmate:

Pretty much one of the best derby days evar!

Last Night

2011-11-06T07:14:00.000-08:00

I played my last game with Fight Crew.

We lost by only ten points against the Swarm, but we had almost half the team ejected for penalties(of course I was one of them), and there just wasn't enough firepower or time left to turn it around. So that's that. They're going to LADD Champs to face the Sirens and we're not.

But the reality of not skating games with them anymore hit me hard on the dark drive home. I didn't cry(though I wanted to), I didn't drink. I feel empty.

But I'm not quitting derby. I can't. I'll still be heckling in Denver next weekend, announcing in Chicago the weekend after that, skating the Thankscrimmage pick-up games on Thanksgiving weekend, and I'm looking into flights to Toronto for the Blood and Thunder World Cup. Aaaaand, Issue 18 has a pretty damn cool story on ME. Complete with my art and some hilarious photos.

But it won't be the same as skating with Fight Crew.

The calendar's getting full

2011-11-03T08:24:00.000-07:00

What does this week's busy-ness entail?

First off, the Sportster is back on my shit list.

It's been running fine for months. My main fears while riding it came from having to go through the ridiculous and massive construction zone that is the 405 freeway through the Sepulveda Pass. But overall it's been dependable. Until Monday night.

Rode in to work as usual. No problems. I was able to leave work while it was still daylight, giving me plenty of time to stop off for gas, get home and prepare for the annual trick-or-treater Halloween onslaught. I made a stop at a liquor store to pick up appletini mix. When I started the bike, the damn thing would turn over, but not catch.

WTF.

I unscrewed the gas cap in case of vapor lock. No difference. I switched the petcock to reserve. No difference. I cussed loudly at it. No difference. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!

So I called Fred, the Motorcycle Whisperer, and he suggested a test to see if I had a spark to the spark plugs. According to my roadside test, no spark. Which means either ignition or coil has gone out. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!

As usual, AAA came to my rescue. The first guy to show up wasn't in a flatbed tow truck, and as I saw him pull up, I thought, WTF THIS TRUCK DOESN'T DO ME ANY GOOD AAA KNOWS I'M ON A MOTORCYCLE WHY IS THIS DUDE HERE NOW I GOTTA WAIT FOR A FLATBED TRUCK AND THIS SUCKS GODDAMMIT WHY TODAY I HATE MY BIKE I HATE MY LIFE AND WHERE'S THE GODDAM REAL TRUCK?! When the guy steps out of his truck, he immediately says, The flatbed is on its way. I'm gonna help load the bike. WHEW! And then he says, You looked like you were about to kill me! Yeah, sorry about that. The flatbed truck showed up within five minutes.

Bike got home via AAA with no further dirty looks or mishaps. I'll have to find a way to get it to Fred's house on Sunday.

The next few weekends will be busy. This Saturday may be my last Fight Crew game. We're going to San Diego to play against the Swarm. The winner of Saturday's game goes to LADD Championships to play against the Sirens. Both teams have a 2-1 record. NO PRESSURE.

Next weekend is WFTDA Championships in Denver. I shall be heckling.

The weekend after that is the Kitten Traxx Invitational in Chicago. And I'll be announcing with Dumptruck. THAT WILL BE STUPIDLY FUN.

Thanksgiving is somewhere in there.

And then, the first weekend in December. I'll either be playing in my LAST EVAR Fight Crew game, or I'll be in Toronto doing announcing at the Derby World Cup! I got the acceptance email this week! So either way, I WIN!

I also get to throw in the occasional drawing. Roger Assaultrey and Gia de los Muertos handed over a couple of themed slam sketchbooks to draw in. These are usually items passed around at events such as Comic Con, with fantastic artists contributing to the contents. Roger and Gia had a Blues Brothers and White Stripes themed books. These are my scrawlings:

See what I did there? Frank Oz? Muppets? GET IT?!

True story, I'd never seen the Blues Brothers before now. I know, I know.

The White Stripes one was a little easier to wrap my head around, since I know who they are and like their music in general:

It was nice to use my horribly neglected markers for both of these.

And now, back to work!

Wine, Being a Dork, and Annoying Famous People

2011-10-23T15:37:00.000-07:00

Alright, here's something of a blog entry.

Last night was a Derby Dolls game that I wasn't skating in and the premiere party for Allen Gregory, the show I worked on in between Bob's Burgers seasons. How do I decide which to attend? I don't, I just go to both.

I worked the wine bar at the Doll Factory, which is usually staffed by fellow Fight Crew teammates, and last night was no exception. I got to hang out with Trixie Biscuit, serve wine to interesting people with interesting manners(my personal fave was the lady who asked me if I was a skater. When I said "yes", she asked how old I was. When I told her, she was so DELIGHTED. Very amusing.), and heckle everyone as they walked by. When our shift was over at the start of the game, I did some more heckling for the first half of the game(which turned out to be a helluva great game by Sirens and Tough Cookies), and then we had to take our leave to go to the Allen Gregory premiere.

Not a lot of the people that I work with were talking about going to the party, but I was intent on going because a) I never seem to go out unless it's derby-related, and that's dumb. And b) the party was held at the Roosevelt Hotel in Hollywood, which of course is Old Hollywood, and therefore I'm definitely going because I love that type of stuff.

When we get there, I didn't recognize anyone immediately, so we wandered around, got drinks, and stuffed ourselves silly on food. The Dear Husband had his computer tablet with him, and so we ended up watching a lot of the second half of the Sirens/Tough Cookies game online while everyone else was doing whatever it is that people do at Hollywood parties.

After awhile I finally found people that I knew, and so was able to do a little bit of schmoozing. The loudest schmoozing I did was with designer extraordinaire, Craig Kellman. I worked with him back at Film Roman a million years ago, and not only is he super-fucking talented, but he's funny. VERY funny. We were talking and laughing loudly out on the patio, and of course drew annoyed/curious glances from the other party-goers. The most repeated glances was from Allen Gregory's co-creator, Jonah Hill. Yeah, that Jonah Hill. Once I noticed him being annoyed, I figured I'd try to get a photo with him. Of course that's when he disappeared.

DAMMIT.

While trying to stalk him, I hear a very familiar voice. I turn to look, and it's one of the other voice actors from the show, French Stewart. Yeah, the one who was on Third Rock From The Sun. I turn to the DH and quickly hiss, It's French Stewart! Get the camera out! I'm getting a goddam photo with him! and I immediately corner him and ask him if I could take a photo with him. I also quickly explained that I'm one of the board artists on the show so that he doesn't think I'm too much of a weirdo. His response was gracious, friendly, and warm. I did a little Snoopy dance when he agreed to a photo, and that didn't scare him off. He said, You guys all did a great job! several times in regards to the artists who worked on the show, and I told him I thought he was awesome.

French Stewart, his wife, and me:

French Stewart, me and the DH:

I was delighted to meet him!

After the highlight of the evening, the DH and I wandered the room a bit more, had a few more cocktails, and kept on the look out for Jonah Hill. At one point I came across one of the owners of the studio that does the production for Allen Gregory and Bob's Burgers, and I told him of my plan to get a photo. He said casually, I think he'd be happy to do it. By the way, he's right over there. and points to Jonah standing about fifty feet away.

WELL, ALRIGHTY THEN. I gathered the DH, handed him the camera, and up to Jonah Hill I stomped. I asked for a photo, and he gave an impatient sigh and agreed.

Ta-daaaaaa!

He left the party right after that, and the room cleared out quickly once he left. We grabbed our goodie bags(white wine and a wine glass with "AG" etched on it. All in a small canvas wine bag. Not too shabby!) and got the hell out of Dodge.

A rare night of balance between derby and day job worlds! It was worth the hangover I woke up with today.

FINALLY

2011-10-18T21:03:00.000-07:00

I was able to skate a 3-hour practice and not die.

Losing one's endurance when one is injured SUCKS. I don't recommend it.

At all.

I'm at around 85% in muscle density and endurance. Right on track, betches.

I keep threatening to update the blog with photos and stuff. And I probably will. Just not right now. I sit in front of a computer allllllllllllllllllllll day, so sitting in front of a computer in the evenings just makes me want to punch things.

But...I'm going to Denver for Championals for heckling purposes, and it looks like I'm going to Chicago for announcing duties with Dumptruck for the Kitten Traxx Banked Track Invitational. Who's a happy girl?! I AM.

SRSLY?!

2011-09-26T20:36:00.000-07:00

OK, modern roller derby, you need to have a little heart-to-heart with yourself.

You say you want to be on tv. To sell out large arenas. To be in the Olympics. To be taken SERIOUSLY.

Considering some of the shady things that have happened in derby past, from scripted games to pillow fights to the worst acting EVAR when skaters try to throw punches for titillation, I can understand why the modern derby movement says it wants to be SERIOUS. Look at the changes in modern derby since its inception ten years ago: less fishnets, more dance tights. Less frilly skirts and elaborate skateouts, more aerodynamic hot pants and simple team introductions. Less team themes and skate names, more basic team motifs and more government names. So, SO SERIOUS.

All that change in a bid for "legitimacy" goes out the fucking window when the skaters take the "For the skaters, by the skaters" saying way too fucking SERIOUSLY and pull bullshit like this:

I had hoped that the above jam from this year's East Coast Extravaganza would be the exception to the loopholes in WFTDA rules about when/where teams line up at the start of a jam, and forward momentum after the whistle is blown. This happened with the pack lined up at the pivot line at last year's WFTDA Championals between Gotham and Philly. It was boo'd then. It was boo'd at ECDX this year. It was heavily boo'd when Rat City pulled it over and over again against Rocky Mountain on Saturday at Western Regionals.

How the fuck can you expect to be taken SERIOUSLY when you won't even fucking SKATE when the whistle is blown?! You're not playing a sport, you're jerking off and expecting people who PAY to see you SKATE to be pleased, impressed, and to take you SERIOUSLY with your athletic prowess that you're not showcasing by crowding the jammers at a standstill for two minutes at a time?! REAAAAAAAAAAALLY????????

Rethink that shit. Now. It's called roller derby, not noller derby. "Roll" is right in the name of the goddam sport, so try to, I dunno, ROLL when you're supposed to. I've heard some bullshit excuses for using "strategies" like this...Hey, we knew we couldn't outskate the other team, so we decided to mindfuck them. Well, now we know JUST HOW BROKEN the rules are! The other team is going to use it, so we should get used to it!

Uh, you have got to be fucking kidding me. Is this high school or SERIOUS ROLLER DERBY? If you want this sport to be taken SO GODDAM SERIOUSLY and eventually get paid to skate, then stop the shenanigans and JUST FUCKING SKATE when the whistle blows. You want new fans? SKATE. You want fellow skaters to stop booing you at tourneys? SKATE. You wanna be on tv for something other than a side human interest story for this cute little hobby of yours? SKATE.

I've talked to many skaters individually who say they'd rather skate than use noller derby. Yet it's still happening, so I have to ask what the hell is stopping the SKATERS in the "by the skaters, for the skaters" group from fixing these glaring loopholes? It's YOUR organization, YOUR rules, YOUR goal to grow the sport, so what are YOU doing to keep skating?

In other news, I actually had an otherwise grand time at Westerns this year, outside of the noller derby fuckery. Not only did I yell myself into a stupor, but I got to draw on NEW PEOPLE. Here, meet Tannibal Lector from the Oly Rollers(a league who likes to skate, and now they're getting more fans both inside and outside the derby community because they're not fucking around):

I won't lie, I was a bit star-struck with this one. I had also wanted to draw on Oly's Atomatrix, but at the afterparty she was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, and to be honest, she totally intimidates me. So I FIALED. At least I got to get hugged by Rocky Mountain's DeRanged and Psycho Babble, and Assaultin' Pepa keeps thinking I don't know who she is. Which is hilarious, because she's Kinda A Big Deal to me as much as her teammates. I think I talked to more people this tournament than ever before, and I have to say, I fucking LOVED every second of meeting new people and getting to hang out with an ever-wider array of derby awesomeness. Tara tatt photos will follow soonly.

And that awesomeness is why the noller derby pisses me off too much. Because we all work TOO FUCKING HARD to be dismissed for alleged strategery that is not only short-term, but short-sighted. I want to build a legacy, not be a footnote to the early millennium. I know too many other people involved in this that feel the same way; why else would we give so much to something that isn't financially paying off for us? Because we want to succeed, goddam it. So let's put aside ego and silliness and make sure the walk--er, skate stride matches the talk, eh?

Inbetween Worlds

2011-09-19T14:46:00.000-07:00

It's official: I'm retiring from my home team after this season.

WHAT?! some of you may be saying. You just got cleared to skate derby again and now you're gonna QUIT when you're on the verge of gaining momentum?!

That's right. I am.

It's not so much the physical strain that's forcing this decision to come to light, it's the mental exhaustion from derby, mixed in with a strenuous day job(yes, sitting and having to think about camera staging, layout, character acting on a tight deadline is surprisingly stressful), along with the orthopedic surgeon's pronouncement that I'm officially TOO OLD for derby that finally did it.

I've had quite a few conversations about whether I'm really too mentally exhausted or too old for derby, and despite the last two weeks of FANTASTIC derby games that I got to watch (my fave league outside of LA, the Arizona Derby Dames vs. LA's home team, the Sirens. Seattle's Tilted Thunder Rail Birds vs. a mixed LADD crew. Then there was WFTDA Eastern Regionals this past weekend where London showed that they're as badass as I personally thought they were), I just can't stand the daily routine of trying to maintain attendance for the regular season schedule. I've always had more fun skating with/against skaters I don't ordinarily get to scrimmage...whether it was skating with the Aftershockers, Ri-Ettes, Rejects, the occasional Fight Crew travel game, doing the challenge scrimmages at Rollercon or Thankscrimmage, or even just visiting Angel City...those are my favorite games, whether they were flat or banked track. Interleague on an all-star B-team level(almost an oxymoron, when you think about it!) within my league doesn't exist, and so my heart has gone out of it. And I'm just burned out from day-to-day league stuff.

Does this mean I'm quitting derby? Hell no. This is worse than Brokeback Mountain...I cain't quit derby. I'm planning on staying on LADD's training team, as well as the Interleague Task Force. I really want to get out and start training more of the up-and-coming banked track leagues that are beginning to pop up. I want to help them get competitive as soon as possible so that they can skate against other leagues and get as stupidly obsessed as the rest of us about playing good derby. I want to go back to Europe with skates in hand and either practice or coach anyone who will have me there. I want to continue to announce and do derby artwork. I want to continue to keep stating my opinion on derby whether people want to hear it or not.

So I have these plans, and I have to get through the rest of this season. Funny thing is, now that I'm making my decision more public, it feels that there's a weight being lifted off my shoulders. I'm not back 100% scrimmage-wise, mainly because my endurance went to SHIT because I couldn't do any running, but the scrimmaging I am doing is fun and I feel effective. I still dread having to drive to downtown LA for practice because it's such a shit commute, but the knowledge that it's only three more months makes me deal with it better. I'm even wanting to buy another pair of skates: my last derby skates. I've not had much luck with being able to talk to a Knowledgeable Skate Person Who Knows My Skating Style on what that last pair of skates should be (right now it's between the Antiks AR-1 and Riedell 1065), but I need to get that done.

But the egotistical part of me is also squawking...the derby community sometimes marginalizes people if they're not active skaters. Will my status from active to retired-but-still-skating-for-fun skater have an effect on how others in derby see me? Will that depend on how involved I stay in the community? Have I already become that old lady telling all the new skaters to get offa her lawn, and Things Were Different In My Day, or is my experience seen as relevant to modern DIY derby?

So I feel in between worlds as a result of what my life is telling me what I need to do and what my ego is telling me it wants to do. I suppose I'll figure it out as I go along...thank goodness I now have the UFC Personal Trainer program for getting out any aggression build-ups I may get from not scrimmaging every week. And if a smart someone wants to sell me a pair of awesome skates at WFTDA Western Regionals this coming weekend, I'm all for it.

"The Next Level"

2011-09-04T10:19:00.000-07:00

This week has been thoroughly entertaining and frustrating in online derbyland.

It started with a posting of this new documentary about the Old School Derby Association:

Where do I begin?

To put in a bunch of old footage of fake skating doesn't help OSDA's cause. And the new footage they included? Uhm...a little underwhelming. You can see skaters without writstguards on. In my mind, if you don't need wristguards or a helmet to skate derby, you're one step away from Couples Skate at the local rink listening to Journey and the Motels.

To say they're "pro" is ludicrous until their skaters can quit their day jobs and skate full time. To put down the modern DIY banked leagues by calling them "amateur" reveals entitlement issues and a touch of jealousy. If you have to put down others in your promo material to try to look good, then you ain't lookin' good.

Oh, and it's not REQUIRED to have a skate name in modern DIY derby. I don't know where they got that idea from, but it humors me.

And my new favorite phrase: "We're going to take it to the next level". I've read that a LOT this week. You can hear it in the above clip. But I've also heard it from people who are supporting another organization that wants to take derby to some type of other level, the NRDA. As you can see by their fancy website that lists all their participating leagues with corresponding season schedules, they're definitely the next level. Here's some clips that take derby to the "next level":

THAT'S the next level of roller derby?!

That "next level" was invited to Battle on the Bank II in Austin under the "Las Vegas Renegade" name. They got their asses handed to them in both games they played there, and they tried their "next level" gameplay of switching jerseys of ejected skaters to stay in the game, to boot. It didn't do any good.

A little reminder of what the pesky amateurs are doing:

So, yeah. If the "next level" of derby is coasting, minimal contact, and fake fighting, then no thanks, I'll stick to Amateur Hour.

The thing is, is that people's memories are painfully short. Why did derby die to begin with? Because it wasn't a sport, it was a sideshow. See the NRDA clips above. The modern DIY version of the game has elements of the ludicrous with skate names and team themes with a dash of unicorns and mustaches thrown in for good measure, but once the whistle blows to start the game it's allllll sport. Not that the modern game doesn't have its faults, but hey! it's not a staged circus act.

For those who want to bring the sport back to where they say it should be? I wonder if it's about them reliving their younger days instead of realizing that their time was done. There's no doubt the old school skaters back in the day had skating talent, but it's too bad that talent wasn't used to best results.

Reminder to new skaters: do yourselves a favor and watch this doubleheader of derby documentaries:

Jam: The Movie is about the Old Schoolers in the Bay Area in the late 90's. It's sad yet fascinating. I first saw this at SXSW in Austin the first time the Derby Dolls played an interleague game. You'll learn that derby drama is nothing new, and so learn to avoid bullshit like this.

Hell on Wheels is about the start of modern DIY derby in Austin. It's basically a how-to on how NOT to start a league. EVERYONE should see this, because the problems that caused the Mutha of All League Splits are still prevalent in DIY derby today.

And the overall message on all of this is the old proverb of those not knowing the past are doomed to repeat it. Let's not repeat the past, shall we?

What's Next?

2011-08-27T22:03:00.000-07:00

Being injured sucks.

Not exactly a newsflash, but DAYUM I miss skating. I'm still supposed to refrain from anything that hurts my knee, so no derby, no running, no Tarametrics, no burpees. In other words, all the high-impact stuff I do, I can't do. I still ride the bicycle at least 45 minutes a day, and take a walk at lunch, but...yeah. SO not the same.

Going at a literally slower pace isn't fun, but adjusting food intake for that slower pace has been sucktabulous, too. Whether I like it or not, if I stray too often from salad, my pants tell me that I should rethink that strategy for future wearings of said pants.

Of course the worst part of not skating? Not skating. Not just the physicality of it, or the skating with my team, but the adrenaline and endorphin levels are now off. WAY off, because I can't do anything to raise them up because of my damn knee. The result of this lowered inactivity and loss of adrenaline and endorphins has made me very, VERY cranky. REALLY cranky. UNBEARABLY cranky. And everyone has felt it, especially the Dear Husband.

He's now adopted an aversion to me that's rather extraordinary, considering that he rarely leaves the house...our small, small house. But when he's foolish enough to try to talk to me, it's to tell me that I have to find a way to keep skating, because I'm pretty much intolerable in my non-skating state.

The funny thing is, he just kept saying I need to stay in derby, which I took to mean staying involved in derby. But no, he was really saying I need to keep skating. The difference was highlighted to me when I had lunch one day with Hurricane Ken, and I was bemoaning my crankiness to him. He sighed, nodded knowingly, and said flat-out that I'm in withdrawals from the adrenaline, and that he went through a similar experience when he stopped racing cars. It got so bad he couldn't even watch racing for a long time. Ahhhh, someone understands!

And it's interesting that of all the talk about injuries, and how to stay involved while not being able to directly participate, it's the adrenaline and endorphins that don't get talked about much. Because I think that stuff does as much to the injured person as the immobility and lack of belonging many experience. For myself, the only time I've sustained a happy feeling outside of Rollercon for more than a few hours was last week when I skated while torturing the new Fresh Meat skaters. It was the first time since June where I felt I got a good workout(my endurance has predictably gone to shit)and my body absolutely craved the euphoria I experienced afterwards. With not much knee pain, I might add.

HOW THE HELL DO OTHER SKATERS DEAL WITH THIS?!

Anyway, I had tried to divert my unskatingness into coaching and other derby work. The coaching wasn't bad, because I got to yell, and therefore felt somewhat useful. But the other derby work? Ugh. I want no part of it anymore, because there has been a severe lack of positive payoff for my time and energy in those areas. And that's another side topic entirely...ever notice when nonskaters try to participate in DIY derby, even if they were at one point skaters, they're not seen as part of the collective as much as a skater is? Which is fucking DUMB, because "by the skaters, for the skaters" is great until you realize how much fucking work running a league is. It sure would make life easier and better for everyone if the burden was shared with those who aren't skating for whatever reason. But at least with my league, when a skater retires, she doesn't stick around much. I can think of about three exceptions to that observation. Three out of...how many hundreds?

Interesting.

More importantly, I feel like an outsider in my own league. I felt I've been getting pushed aside in subtle and not-so-subtle ways this season. I can't say how much of my outlook on this is because of the non-skating part, or because I'm seeing the league in a different light. But it's there, and it's telling me time to do something different.

My main goal right now is to successfully finish this season. That's really the only solid goal I have right now. There are other things floating in my brain...I still want to train, I still think I can contribute to interleague stuff, and I still want to skate, but not under the current setup.

This injury has changed my outlook on work, derby, and life. Much as derby itself has changed me. But I want to be able to skate like I did before; with minimal pain and no further damage. Especially since my happiness is still stuck in an apparently old rut. Stupid adrenaline.

Remember When?

2011-08-21T10:12:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, I worked on Pinky and the Brain. It was my first job at Warner Bros. Back in those days, schedules were really lax compared to what we have to crank out today. In fact, I spent the first six weeks on the job doing nothing. Literally nothing, because the writers were horrendously behind schedule.

Anyway, since the schedules were reasonable(though we didn't know that then, I remember hearing people complain about how tight the deadlines were!), we'd be able to have some drawing fun on our own. My cute friend Becca just posted a few gems online, and so I thought I'd share the hilarity and post them here.

This is a birthday card that background painter Greg Dubuque did for Becca's birthday. The crowd that's running away from the robot is our particular crew, which includes director Kirk Tingblad, designers Steve Smith and Ashanti Miller, production assistant Lisa Melcolm-Weisman, storyboard artist Eric McConnell, and yours truly. And yes, Greg did a fantastic job on this!

Here's a card I did for Becca. Tallulah is Becca's bird, obviously. My colored pencil shading is atrocious, but I almost made a funny.

As usual on any show that a bunch of smart-alecky artists are on for any amount of time, the weird drawings are bound to happen. The following two are the result of a drawing...competition? between myself and the always-amazing Diane Kredensor. It all started with me drawing Pinky picking at the lint in his bellybutton on the far left of the below photo and leaving the drawing on Diane's desk when she wasn't looking. She then did a reply drawing(I think her first one was the nose-picking one)and left that on my desk. And so it escalated.

Each drawing was done on regular 8x11" paper, but after we finished the drawings, we took all of them and shrunk them down on the xerox machine, and placed them on official Warners Expression Sheet paper. In the usual production pipeline, all designs were xeroxed onto official WB paper and distributed to the crew accordingly. This is my expression sheet:

And this is Diane's expression sheet:

And this is the drawing that ended the competition. Some might say prematurely, but I say it ended just in time. Yes, I did it:

And so ends today's Nostalgic Travels. I have a huge box of Warner-era drawings in the form of both storyboards and various doodles, drawings, and whatnot from my fellow artists that I had the extreme pleasure to work with at the time. Becca's rummagings have made me realize that I should dig through my stash o' stuff and post what I have for the world to see. Because once upon a time working in animation was FUN.

The Saga of the Louise Bunny Ear Hats

2011-08-07T16:53:00.000-07:00

As most of you know, I'm working on Bob's Burgers. This year for Comic Con, the Powers That Be decided to hand out bunny ear hats, which is worn by Louise in the show:

I couldn't go to Comic Con this year. Which I was displeased about, but I had UK guests Neil and Tara over (that's a whole other post right thurr, I gotta get on that) that weekend, so whatever.

Last year the Comic Con giveaway were cool t-shirts, and all the artists working on the show got a shirt before Comic Con. This year right before Comic Con, the bunny ear hats were delivered to the studio. Someone opened a box, and some of the artists grabbed a hat and wandered around the studio looking hilariously ridiculous. Then management came through and took the hats back, saying they were only for Comic Con. What?! But then they apparently claimed the artists would get hats after Comic Con. Ok, whatever.

In the meantime, I was contacted through Facebook by Terminal City ~~ref~~, coach, Johnny Qwadd. He apparently comes to LA-LA Land quite a bit, and has been to Derby Doll games. He asked if I was going to Comic Con, and that he loves watching Bob's Burgers. I tell him I won't be there, but to be sure to keep an eye out for the bunny ear hats, since they'll be a hot item. Then the whole taking-the-hats-back-from-the-artists thing happened, and I asked Johnny that if he gets his paws on a hat, to get one for me, since I wouldn't be able to get one.

A few days after Comic Con, he posts this on my Facebook page:

WOW! He was able to snag not just one hat, but TWO of them! And he says he'll give BOTH to me! HOLY MOLEY!

The most obvious way to get the hats to me was to meet up at Rollercon. But he wasn't going. DRAT. But he found out that since Luludemon from PivotStar will be vending, he just needed to get the hats to her and then I could stop by her booth and pick them up. Great!

First he hands off the hats to his wife Player 1 and fellow skater Snow Crash to hand off to Luludemon:

And so Luludemon packs the hats with her to come to Vegas as the Merch Mule:

And then, I finally get the bunny hats and can take a totally ludicrous photo with B-Train from Wicked Skatewear:

This was kind of a huge favor, to have a Canadian get me goofy hats from San Diego and then get them shipped to Vegas for me to pick up. As a thank you, I gave Luludemon a Derby Dolls bandana and a Tara tattoo. Johnny Qwadd got a shirt. Guess which one I gave him?

I think everyone came out good on this deal. And as of this writing, the Bob's Burgers artists are still hatless. Except for me! It's good to have friends!

2011 Rollercon: A Quick Best/Worst List

2011-07-31T22:10:00.000-07:00

Just got back from Rollercon in Vegas. For the seventh year in a row, this is pretty much the only reason I'll undertake going to the desert in the middle of summer to stay at a shit hotel. I'm tired, hungover, and ate a LOT of food. No skating, thanks to the patellar tendonitis in my right knee. But I did wander around a lot, talked to many, MANY people, and got to hone the announcing skills. Here's an impromptu personal best/worst list:

Best Drinking Buddy: Cherry Chainsaw from TXRD. Whenever she's not at Rollercon, my fun level drops 75%. I won't be her(or anyone else's)derby wife, but she's one of my most favoritist people in derbydom. She helps me by taking on any and all drinks I can't finish, because she firmly believes in the rule of, No Drink Left Behind.

Best Experience While Volunteering: announcing with Dumptruck for the Derby News Network feed of the Team Awesome/Team SeXY rematch. Dumpy makes announcing look so easy and so fun, but it's really interesting to see him behind the scenes, taking his job very, VERY seriously. But once he goes live, he knows how to balance having fun with doing his job effectively. The best part is his habit of turning to his announcing partner to involve them in the announcing process. I've learned so much about announcing just from that seemingly minor detail.

Best Venue for Rollercon: The Riviera hotel. It's a shithole. But it's not the worst shithole RC has been at. The first RC was at a hotel appropriately named Terrible's. Then there was the Plaza, which made me fear for my personal safety numerous times over the course of four days. Imperial Palace was a maze of ridiculousness, and the only reason it was acceptable at all was because of its location on the Strip and its dealertainers. The Tropicana and Hooters? They weren't bad, but they apparently didn't want the likes of us back.

But the Riviera? Not only do they have One-Notch-Above-Scuzz rooms, but they had enough convention space to house ALL of Rollercon's activities, including space for 3 FUCKING TRACKS. For the first time in four years, everything RC related was in one facility. That's ten bajillion times better than taking a non-air conditioned double-decker bus to an off-site facility that barely fit two tracks and was kinda boring to hang out at because nothing else was walking distance in the area.

Which brings me to...

Best Excuse to Leave the Riviera Occasionally: to go next door to the Ross Dress For Less to shop for something cheap and fancy for the Black and Blue Ball. Since we've been working like crazy and had no time to plan fancy outfits, it was great to get something for under $20 that looked good poolside and fit into the color theme of black and/or blue. While you're out at Ross, you can also stop in to the Peppermill Lounge for a salad the size of your head while wearing an econo-sized sombrero while sipping on an expensive mojito. 24 hours a day. WIN.

Best New Item of Clothing: I finally got to meet and greet Luludemon, founder of the Canadian clothing line, PivotStar. She's English, but lives and skates in Canada. She went back to the UK around the same time I took my first trip there, and she posted some really fun video blogs of her visit. If you remember, PivotStar had a contest last year to name their sleeveless hoodie after a skater, and I lost to a skater who had more Facebook friends than me. However, Luludemon sent me one of the hoodies(which some awesome friends still call a "Tara Armov hoodie" despite the contest results), which was very nice of her to do. For one of the challenge games, she supplied the team with Chicabomb shorts. Now, I thought the shorts would look horrible on me. They don't. Buy them. They look gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood. On anyone and everyone.

Best Logo Use: Iron Maiven asked me to do a logo for a fanny pack giveaway her clothing company, Iron Doll, was doing to promote her Lift and Separate shorts. So I did. It turned out to be very, very popular. I now want a shirt with said logo on it, just because. Check out the facebook page of all the Lift and Separate contestants. It's tremendous.

Best Reason to Hang Out by the 24-Hour Pool: watching the unwashed and horny dude-masses think that they have any remote chance in hell to get into the non-pants of a seemingly-wild and willing roller derby player. I watched several small groups of four or five bros saunter poolside with the aplomb of a peacock in full feathery glory. By the time they wandered a quarter of the way around the pool, they were visibly shaken and their confidence levels had dropped approximately 4000%. If they managed to stick around past halfway around the pool, they were crying for their crackhead mothers and had shat themselves. It was really fucking funny.

Best Conversation with Random Strangers of the Weekend: I was sitting at an outdoor patio not far from the pool, drinking Four Loko. What?! Anyway, two Brazilian skaters came up to me out of the blue, introduced themselves, stated that they knew I was Tara Armov and started talking to me about how great it was that former SD skater Bonnie D. Stroir came to South America to train. I ended up talking to them for quite awhile, and they were cute as buttons. I am so excited to talk to skaters from outside the US!

Best Approach to get a Tara Tattoo: buying me a drink is a sure-fire way to get me to draw on you. If you don't have that, come up to me when I'm goofing off at the Derby News Network booth and ask if you could get a drawing, and then hand me a handmade necklace of your league logo. That's what Andrematron from Crossroads City Derby in New Mexico did. And it worked beautifully!

Best Unexpected Gift: I finally met Vicorp, one of the founders of Cheezeballs Bearings. He had asked me to test out some bearings several months ago, and who am I to say no? Anyway, he came up to me on Thursday afternoon, introduced himself, and promptly dropped a Wicked fannypack full of sharpies into my lap. You might need these! he states. Damn right! Just as I was about to test out the sharpies on him, he was literally called away to deal with business stuff at RC, and that was the last I saw of him. NO BUENO.

Best Expected Gift: two Louise bunny-ear hats that were given out as Comic Con goodies during the Bob's Burgers panel this year. I couldn't go to Comic Con, and the artists working on the show hadn't gotten said hats, but a referee from Terminal City, Johnny Qwadd, managed to grab the bunny-ear hats and send them to me through the afore-mentioned Luludemon. I looked like a goober wearing them, but wear them I did.

Best Meal: going to the Rio's seafood buffet with the Dear Husband and Cherry Chainsaw. It was worth gaining the ten thousand pounds I put on over the course of the weekend.

Best Reason to Be Hated: Hellarad.Though now they're becoming popular, which probably means they're going through some heavy-duty self-loathing right now.

Best Half Hour of Power: stumbling across retired LADD skater and author Kasey Bomber, Mad Dog, and a few other friends while they're meeting up with Hellarad for a very structured drinking session known as the Half Hour of Power. It apparently consists of one's favorite alcoholic beverage and taking a shot of said beverage every two minutes. It's very effective for a pleasant drunken level very quickly.

Best Advertising: as usual, the LADD Enforcers have more fun than everyone else put together, and they do so creatively. This year's project was mimicking the escort services that advertise on the Strip by hiring schmoes to stand on the sidewalk wearing neon shirts and "slapping" the cards of the whore of your choice together before handing said card to you. Hilarity ensued when skaters found out that the website was real and the phone number was live.

Best "Do You Know Who I Am?!" Moment: Sunday morning, gray and hurtful after a long Saturday night. I was shuffling to the vendor area when I passed a skater who was wearing a Better Red Than Dead shirt. I have no idea who she was. I smiled at her. She gave me a polite "I'm smiling at you because you're smiling at me but it's really fucking obvious I don't know you so maybe you should move along" smile. SHE'S WEARING MY FACE ON HER BOOBS AND SHE DIDN'T RECOGNIZE ME SMILING AT HER.

Fucking.

HILARIOUS.

The real topper: right after this, I stopped to get a bacon and cheddar sandwich for the Dear Husband. The dude at the counter called me "sir". Fuck my life.

Worst Outfit: anything that Dumptruck and Megatron wore when they went pantsless. I tried to drown my eyes in alcohol, but it didn't work. Second place: the league that wore bandaids and tutus to the Black and Blue ball. Put on some clothes, bitches, the Dbag DudeBro creeping problem was exacerbated because of you.

Worst Room: I heard a story about an LA skater's hotel room that had not been cleaned after the previous guests had vacated the premises. Eww. Just...EWWWWW.

Worst Situation to Meet New People: late at night, poolside, after a long day working and then flying to Vegas from LAX. I fucked myself over on that one. Never again. And then people violated my DON'T TOUCH ME rule so much I just took the Victorian attitude and dreamed of England every time I was hugged. I shake my fist at the lot of you.

Worst Security: one of the reasons the Riviera should've been awesome was their 24-hour pool. But on Saturday night, they closed the pool because they claimed they hadn't hired a lifeguard. Uhm...what?! Everyone knows they have a goddam 24-hour pool. The running theory was that the Riviera didn't want to deal with another night of near-nudity and beer in the pool from partying guests. Scumbag dudebros doing that? That's fine. Near-nekkid derby girls? O NOES. They later did open the pool, but...cracka, please. Stop sucking. We're no worse than the scumbags that usually frequent the premises. In fact, we're classing the joint up. So fuck off and let us have our goddam fun.

Worst Cut Off: all weekend one was able to bring in water and even drinks into the main room of RC. Then all of the sudden, about an hour before the Grande Event of the Weekend that was the rematch between B.A.D. Girls and Denver Roller Dolls, everyone was told no outside drinks were allowed in the venue. A bar had been set up nearby, selling overpriced watered-down drinks for the unprepared. WEAKSAUCE.

Worst Attitude: shit got SO SERIOUS this year. The usually ridiculously fun challenge games had a requirement of its team captains to submit rosters in advance...like a real game. WTF. Most of the fun of these games is the ability to show up in the appropriate color shirt and lurk around to see if there are any open slots on the team four minutes before the game begins. The excuse given? Refs need training. Now...they do. BUT...how about setting up classes that are geared towards the refs where maybe some skaters are there mimicking game scenarios for the refs to dissect and work out? Most leagues have to take a fairly serious outlook on their games because their existence depends on it. Challenge games? Pure ridiculousness that shouldn't be regulated to death like a real game because it doesn't. Mean. SHIT in the general scheme of things.

And there was behavior that was kaibashed at a WFTDA-sanctioned game that would've happened if it were a public game. Having rules be stricter for a non-public game proves...what, exactly? So what if there's heckling? Or an occasional beer? Will the derby world end? I doubt it. If it does, then it really and truly wasn't meant to be. Lighten the fuck up, people. Derby should only be serious business when it's actual business. RC is business, but it shouldn't be stick-up-your-ass serious, because that sucks the fun out of it. And why the hell do we do this crazy hobby? Oh, right, IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE FUN.

Worst Wardrobe Malfunction: the four shirts I ordered for delivery at RC didn't happen, despite me getting the order in on time. I was PUH-HISSED the hell off about it. I still kinda am, as two of the shirts were for challenge game teams I had hoped to bench coach, and a third was a gift for Cherry Chainsaw. There went that clever idea. After a few hours of sulking and a nap, I met up with Cherry and ended up drinking and drawing most of the evening. That works.

Worst Elevator Ride: luckily I wasn't directly involved in this one, though I could've been. At one point Saturday night, 22 people, most of them involved with BAD Girls or Hellarad, got stuck in an elevator for a half hour. I'm apparently claustrophobic, because the mere thought of something like that happening to me icks me out to the point where I need to go outside just so I regain a sense of scale in life. Luckily there were handsome firemen who saved the unfortunate elevator riders from certain death by farts.

Worst Seminar: I didn't get to go to any of the classes or seminars for one reason or another(read: I ended up meeting up with someone and talking their damn ear off), and so I missed Kasey Bomber's seminar where she was pushing her book, Down and Derby. I heard that there was a certain derby personality in the audience who was rude, constantly interrupting Kasey, and then pimping SOMEONE ELSE'S BOOK. Who the fuck does that?! Oh, entitled opportunistic jerkoffs, that's who. Stop riding the young'uns coattails and DO something that's non-destructive, will ya?!

Worst Hangover: all things considered, the Four Loko let me off easy. But waking up this morning still sucked.

Photos and addendums coming soon...

F-Bomb!

2011-07-19T22:35:00.000-07:00

Life has gotten crazy lately.

Work is fucking INSANE schedule-wise. I'm barely keeping up, so I'm attempting to use the software that we do boards on for home use just so I can be at home once in awhile. So far, no good, as the files aren't loading correctly. FUCK.

Instead of going to Comic Con this year(what a fuckup trying to get either hotel or professional pass that turned out to be this time), I'll be hosting the couple who put me up in Nottingham in January. Since I haven't cleaned the house in, oh, forever, this is turning into a much bigger project than it should be. I fucking hate cleaning under a deadline.

The knee. Oh, the goddam knee. After seeing the orthopedic surgeon last week, I schedule an MRI. The doctor had said that he'd call no later than two days after getting the MRI results. I get the MRI Wednesday, they say the doctor will get the results no later than Thursday morning. I wait. No call. Today I called multiple times before even getting through to anyone. Then I get a call back from the doctor's nurse, who tells me that they should've scheduled an appointment for me to go over the MRI results because the doctor is too busy to call patients back for these things. Ugh, fine. When can I come in? How about tomorrow? Great, what time? What do you prefer? I prefer either really early or really late. OK, our last appointment is at 4pm.

JEEZUS H. BALD-HEADED KEE-RIST.

That of course will totally fuck up my already-two-days behind work schedule. So now I'm going to have to forgo the usual morning routine so that I can get into work early and get in a full day before leaving at 3pm to go from fucking Borebank to Beverly Hills to see the doctor to find out what the ever-living hell is wrong with my goddam knee.

Rollercon. I'm betting I won't be able to skate, no matter what the doctor says, because my knee hurts all the goddam time. Which really makes the whole Rollercon experience...not as much fun as it should be. I'm still excited that I'm going, but I'm missing two days of work for not skating. Can the timing get any crappier?

There are a couple of things that have kept me from punching myself in the face repeatedly until I pass out. But just a couple.

One: on Saturday during the weekend of Carmageddon(what a bunch of shit that turned out to be), Hurricane Ken said that his landlord Dave is having a birthday party and that I should show up. I've met Dave once before when Ken dragged him to a Fight Crew game, and since he's a cool dude, I gathered up the Dear Husband and off we went to the Hollywood Hills.

Dave is a writer, screenwriter, and all-around Kinda A Big Deal. He also likes monsters. He also has a lot of cool friends who all do Important Stuff like directing, writing, drawing, acting, etc. He also doesn't mind when I draw on him, so when I said I wanted to draw on him for his birthday, he complied quickly.

While I was drawing on him, I also managed to draw a crowd. Which is better than drawing flies, haha. Anyway, one of the other party-goers, Tom, was especially taken with the sharpie tattoo, and he asked Dave to ask me if I'd draw on him.

Sure, why not?

So I did.

Here they are in all their glory:

As well as Tom and myself:

At the time, I noticed that as Tom would walk through a room, other partygoers would whisper, That's Tom. He's in The Mist. After this happened a few times, I thought his name was Tom He's In The Mist. Because I'm so out of touch with the world that I've never seen The Mist.

Then I googled him when I got home.

He's also kinda a big deal.

He also takes a damn good photo:

DAYUM. I GOT TO DRAW ON THAT GUY.

The second thing that has kept me somewhat sane: Angel City skater LuAneurysm made these shirts for fellow ACDG skater Scarbie Doll after I heckled ACDG's B-team tryouts, and she posted a photo of said shirts on my Facebook wall:

I won't lie, seeing that after the shitty time I've been having lately brought a tear to my eye--I mean, dust. Damn, there's a lot of dust in the air.

The Machine is Breaking Down

2011-07-12T13:38:00.000-07:00

This hiatus has been very weird for me because I've actually had to take a hiatus from skating derby. My knee said so.

To be honest, despite all the work I've done in the past to keep me physically able to do derby, this season has been rough on my knees. Especially the right knee. It feels...loose. Like it'll buckle under me when I'm walking. And it pops almost every time I sit down. The pain doesn't help, either. I'm walking with a gimp like an OG pimp and it's driving me completely batshit crazy.

I knew it was bad after the Fight Crew/Tough Cookies game at the beginning of June when I didn't skate for two weeks afterwards but my knee was still killing me. WTF. THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE.

So I visited one of the Derby Dolls chiropractors on my week off at the end of June. He promptly said the ligaments look good, but I might have a meniscus tear and that I should get an MRI to find out.

What's a meniscus? See gross photo:

After doing some reading up on the meniscus, so far I'd say he's right on the money. But I need to see an orthopedic surgeon to concur with this diagnosis. So off I go to see a doctor that has had several Derby Doll patients. He knows about derby, he knows how we don't want to stop moving, he knows that we're totally insane.

The first thing he says to me as he stepped into the examination room is, You're one of them, aren't you? meaning a derby skater. Because I name-dropped a bit when making the appointment. He looked at my x-rays(nothing to see there---totally normal), looked at my knee, asked me a few questions, wondered if the bruises on my legs were permanent(how it is that I haven't skated derby in weeks but I actually have MORE bruises than if I had been is a mystery even to me), and poked at the swelling on my knee.

He then tells me I'm old.

NO SHIT.

Btw, he's the same age as me. He says that he stopped playing sports because he was getting too competitive doing them, and blew out an ACL in the process. Grrr, I don't want to hear that.

Again, the ligaments are fine. The swelling is indicative that something is not right, but from the x-rays and examination, it's hard to tell what it is. I could either suck it up and just deal with things the way they are, or I could get an MRI to see if I have a meniscal tear. I said that I was hoping to get an MRI, because this pain thing is NOT working for me.

Fine. He gives me a 'scrip for an MRI and I get a list of places to go get one. He says that he'll call me two to three days after he receives the MRI imaging to tell me what's going on.

I get home, feeling a little conflicted because so far the meniscus outlook is most likely, but DAMMIT I don't feel old! Well, not too old! I tell the Dear Husband about all this, and he says, Well, you keep saying you're old, and now you have vindication! THAT'S NOT THE RIGHT THING TO SAY.

Tomorrow morning at ohfuckit'searly o'clock, I'm getting the MRI. Woohoo! I hope it's something visible so that I can GET IT FIXED ASAP!

And then this happened...

2011-07-03T10:54:00.000-07:00

Fourth of July weekend so far:

Being part of a human pyramid at the Angel City Derby Girls game.

Totally winning.

Habit breaking?

2011-06-27T08:13:00.000-07:00

I am a creature of habit, as is everybody.

I'm also a bit lazy and superstitious. All of the above can be an interesting mix when it comes to derby, or any sport/hobby/fun stuff going on in life.

Most people have a talisman, a "lucky" object, a very set and strict routine precluding an event where one feels that these combinations of things will help them win in whatever it is they're doing.

For me and derby, I have specific things that I wear or do to make me feel good on gameday. The night before, I order dinner from a specific Italian restaurant. I go for a jog in the morning day-of. I have the choice of three pairs of tights, one bra, and two sets of underwear to wear under my uniform. I have a specific set of makeup to use. I tie two silver skulls that I got in Texas eight years ago into my bra. I wear specific shoes and carry a specific bag for my uniform.

But the oldest item in my game-day list is a water bottle.

It's nothing special, just a huge Arrowhead bottle that I bought for a game at least five years ago. I don't remember which game it was, but Fight Crew won that day. It must've been because of the new water bottle, right? So I kept the bottle. And it became my regular water bottle used for practice, games, whenever I needed water for years to come. I think teammate Kubo first noticed that I used the same bottle about a year ago. Is that the same bottle you've had for...forever?! she asked. Yep. Ewwwwww. she said. It's not like I wash it in urine, so I don't know what the problem is.

Apparently this observation spread to the rest of the team, because I started getting grief from Lusty Loveless and Trixie Biscuit this season. Now, they love giving me grief for merely existing(ask them to do their imitation of me on the phone with a non-derby-related call. It's hilarious. And probably true.), so at first their jibes at an innocuous water bottle that I've had for years didn't bother me.

But then Lusty took it upon herself to show me the error of my ways. She got herself a fancy new water bottle that's BPA-free and good for the environment and probably bumps up her IQ by a thousand points or something. She brought her fancy bottle to practice where she promptly showed it to me. Isn't it great? she asked. You should get one, too! That old bottle is so... she just trailed off, leaving the insult unsaid, but obviously there. I looked at her fancy bottle with its fancy lid and fancy shape in a fancy color and was unimpressed. You don't want to die from cancer because you use that old bottle, do you? she chided. Just about everything causes cancer is my general reaction. She rolled her eyes, shrugged, and we went to practice.

A couple months go by without further comment about the water bottle from anyone. Then one recent evening while I was putting on my skates before a team practice, Lusty comes marching up with a grocery bag in her hand. She abruptly sets the bag down in front of me on the ground, muttered, Merry Christmas! and marched away to go put her gear on without further comment. I looked at the bag curiously, then peered in.

She bought me another Arrowhead water bottle. I laughed.

And then I set the bottles side by side. OK, I can see why my team would be disgusted by my old bottle. Guess which one is which:

As soon as I finished the water in the old bottle, I switched to the new bottle. But I didn't throw away the old bottle at first. Because of my lazy superstitious game-day self. But strangely enough, the new bottle didn't affect my gameplay in a negative way, so I finally threw that old bottle into our recycling bin:

I probably won't change the rest of my game-day routine, but this new addition is juuuuuuust fine.

How I Spent My Battle on the Bank IV Weekend

2011-06-15T21:56:00.000-07:00

Since I'm not on the Ri-Ettes this year, the most I expected to do at the annual Battle on the Bank tournament was maybe a little textcasting for Derby News Network.

But no, I ended up doing a lot more than that!

The fine folks at Derby Deeds asked me to help cohost each morning for never-done-before live segments before each day's games. ISN'T THAT COOL?! I thought so! Since my time is pathetically short, I can't list all the other amazingness that happened at the tournament. Instead, I'll give you the shows that I appeared on, since this blog is about ME.

Friday morning:

Watch live video from Derby Deeds LIVE! on Justin.tv

Saturday morning:

Watch live video from Derby Deeds LIVE! on Justin.tv

Sunday morning:

Watch live video from Derby Deeds LIVE! on Justin.tv

As an added bonus, here's some highlight clips I made from the Championship game on Sunday between the Ri-Ettes and Team Legit. Notice how very little of it has to do with skating, and a LOT to do with absolute silliness:

Saven Reaward:

Watch live video from taraarmov on Justin.tv

NOM NOM NOM!

Watch live video from taraarmov on Justin.tv

Deranged gets up close and personal with Roger Assaultrey:

Watch live video from taraarmov on Justin.tv

"Legit" and "mainstream" derby

2011-05-31T20:32:00.000-07:00

A Facebook email chain included me(surprisingly) amongst a group of various skaters from various leagues that asked about what things that WFTDA could do in the next three months to "legitimize" modern DIY derby. Of course, I'm not in a WFTDA league, but I do have a big mouth. I wrote a long-winded and rambling reply, and didn't really hear a lot of feedback from it. I don't know whether I covered the bases or everyone just thought I was a jerkfaced asshat, but I thought I'd repost what I wrote just for shits and giggles. Or feedback. Whatever you have time for.

First off, I hate the terms "legit" and "mainstream" in terms of the current modern DIY derby, whether it's flat or banked track. To me, those terms signify complete and utter boredom, which is what I think of when sports in general are brought up to me. Derby isn't a mainstream sport; why there are people pushing to make it "mainstream" is really beyond me. I won't watch derby if it's included in the Olympics. I just don't care. I like where derby is at right now. A little whimsy in sports shouldn't be frowned upon. Don't be swayed by what's already out there. If you were, you wouldn't be involved in derby to begin with.

I would like to see modern derby try to grow its fanbase in a close manifestation of what we're experiencing right now. Fun names and team themes with serious athletic abilities, at least with what's seen in the top leagues in the country.

Anyway, here's some thoughts:

Get rid of minor penalties. If a skater sits in the penalty box, it needs to be obvious to everyone watching the game why she's there. Accumulations are BORRRRRRINGGGGG.

Another rule change, especially for WFTDA: GET RID OF NOT-STARTING DERBY. The pack whistle blows, the pack MUST MOVE. The rule needs to change about waiting for the last pack person to cross the pivot line. In WORD rules, the jammer whistle is blown 3 seconds after the pack whistle. In MADE rules, there's only one whistle for both pack and jammers. Either way, it's encouraging movement, which is what fans want to see. Not the standing-around-like-idiots play that bores the pants off of everyone except the skaters in that particular jam. Strategy doesn't mean diddly if people won't sit and watch non-movement when skating is supposed to be involved.

Have a handbook or some other source/guide for game/bout production. This includes how to run the door, lighting, announcers, timetables, etc. Sure, not all leagues can be all fancy in every aspect of game production, but if they had a guide to work off of, they can do what they can with current resources as well as set goals for future games to keep the fans interested AND informed while using what's available and affordable to leagues.

Continue to encourage any and all skaters in any and all leagues to go to bootcamps that are hosted by top skaters/leagues/whatnot. The idea is to bring more competitive gameplay to more leagues. If you look at rankings, whether they're WFTDA, DNN, WORD, etc, you see that there's a dropoff in...talent? ability? I don't know what the word is, but there's a small group of teams at the very top, and the dropoff to what the next group of teams' abilities is severe. So, say in a tournament situation, if you have #1 seed vs. #7 seed, it's going to be a blowout. Which for new fans is boring to watch. But if we're able to spread the training around far and wide so that more leagues get to a level where they're more competitive in a shorter space of time, that's just good for everyone.

Interleague. This goes back to building up the talent that's already out there. Interleague is a great way to do that. But not just the all-star teams. I love TXRG's example of using their home teams as "B" teams for interleague play. It not only encourages city-to-city competition that modern sports thrive on, but it introduces a higher level of gameplay to more skaters in a particular league. And then they'll strive more to achieve higher excellence. This also helps address the problem that many leagues have of their intraleague drawing more fans than interleague. If the home teams are used in more interleague play, then that gets the fans used to more interleague matchups, which generally makes the skaters and the fans happy.

Skater names. This is a touchy subject. I myself love my skate name. But there are some names out there that aren't...family friendly. Now, as non-mainstream as this sport is, it's also a sport that's gaining popularity in Jr. leagues across the country. It behooves leagues to not have skate names such as Slitty McCuntergash if they have a Jr. league going on. Or if they have all-ages games. Or both. To build a following that will last beyond any hipster fad, you gotta suck the kids in. A little discretion can go a long way to having a skater feel like she's expressing herself the way she wants to while having the league build a following that's going to think of the future of the sport by having kids around to get them hooked.

Recreational leagues. Not everyone coming into a league is going to be all-star material. Some won't even be home team material. But dammit, they love to skate. Maybe they volunteer for your league, and having them around is a good idea for whatever reason. Give them a place to go skate. Same for retired skaters who maybe can't make the training schedule of a team for either physical or scheduling reasons...give them a place to come to so that they can give advice to the up-and-coming skaters. Or give them a reason to justify the cost of their brand-new Antik skates. Whatever. Rec leagues are another avenue of spreading the derby love while being low-cost and casual.

That's just off the top of my pointy little head. I'm sure people have brilliant ideas on how to grow the sport. The question is, will that growth be "legit" and "mainstream", or just...growth?

The Side Things Make Life Fun

2011-05-29T08:55:00.000-07:00

There's a new tradition amongst the LA Derby Dolls' referee crew. They do a Summer Mix contest of their fave music and have an outside, supposedly impartial judge overseeing the listening and judging part. A few months ago the DH and I were asked to be this year's judges. Which is awesome.

If I had remembered that I was asked. Oh, and I never told the DH that he was getting sucked into this, either. Whoops.

So last week rolls around and there's a flurry of facebook updates about the Enforcers getting their mixes done, how fucking brilliant the mixes are, and that they didn't pander too much to my musical tastes. The DH sees these updates and is baffled by his involvement. As usual.

The actual delivery of the cd's to me is a story in and of itself. Last Thursday I get an email from Gwen Sweetfanni asking if I'll be at the track that night to pick up the cd's, and if not, could she drop them by my house after practice? I reply back telling her that I won't be at practice and of course she could deliver them to my house and drop them through the mail slot. Or I could pick them up this Sunday, since I'll be at the track. She says she'll leave them at the track.

A semi-important note: because I'm on the computer ALL DAY for work, I rarely, if ever, turn on the computer when I get home from work. And so I missed Gwen's email from later in the evening saying that she's going to stop by the house and drop off the cd's when she's done with practice after all because she's giving a ride home to fellow Westside resident and LADD Head of Events Bong Jovi.

This is where the hilarity comes in.

Another semi-important note: the DH is usually one who doesn't have much in facial reactions. Or reactions in general. Whatever is going on in his mind keeps him occupied to the point where outside stimuli is only able to earn a momentary pause in his thinking before he goes right back to whatever he was saying before said outside stimuli pierced his thought patterns. Long story short, he's a little deadpan in his reactions. This will help with visualizing the following.

In the morning I find this on my computer keyboard:

The DH shuffles in and in about four sentences mumbles that the manila envelope was dropped off last night by Gwen. She had tried to shove the manila envelope through the mail slot and he had interrupted her.

I'm delighted with the unexpected-until-I-read-my-email-at-work delivery. I unpack the envelope and see the seventeen discs waiting for me to be all judgey on them:

I think to myself that there are more cd's than I expected. I wonder how Gwen got that envelope through the mail slot?

I take some of the cd's to work and settle in for a long morning of almost getting stuff done when Bong Jovi messages me on gchat(PS: I'm on gchat all day. ALL GODDAM DAY. It's the only thing that keeps me from going spider monkey on my coworkers) about the Summer Mix delivery. Here it is:

JOVI: loudest

delivery

ever

me: I'm so bummed I slept through it.

Poor Busta had NO idea what the fuck was going on. HILARIOUS.

JOVI: oh man

dude, it was hilarious

i mean, first, gwen and i running errands together like a crime fighting team is already funny

but we get to your place

me: oh gawd!

JOVI: and she's like, i'm gonna run up and put it in the mail slot

and as she walked away i thought, that envelope is probably to big for the mail slot

and then she disappears in the darkness of your porch

me: I'm laughing out loud already, I'll have you know.

JOVI: and then it's nothing but sounds

the KREEEEEEEEEK of the screen

the opening of the slot

then PAPER RUSTLE PAPER RUSTLE

then silence

then the SCREEEE of the mail slot again

PAPER RUSTLE PAPER RUSTLE

me: <---literally giggling like goon reading about this.

JOVI: then silence

i'm in the car with the door opening laughing my ass off

because like, your porch is an echo chamber or something

me: OH MAN.

where did you guys park? Did you pull into our driveway?

JOVI: we parked on the street behind your car

me: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA

JOVI: and then the porch light comes on

which scares gwen

and immediatly i think

Holy shit, we're at the wrong house

me: :::dying;::

JOVI: she's trying to cram all these random cds into a strangers mail slot

the porch light comes on and i hear her this:

Busta: Who's there?

Gwen: Gwen? Cammie?

Busta: Gwen who?

Gwen (panic): Gwen Sweetfanni??? of the LA Derby Dolls??? Imjusttryingtodropoffthecdsfortheenforcermixtapecontestsorry. sooooo sorry...

me: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA

JOVI: and then she races back to the car

and i'm like, "Who the fuck answered the door and why did you give them your full official title/"

because we'd been joking about waking you up

saying things like "Don't Poke the Bear-a"

me: OH SHIT.

FUCKING BRILLIANT.

JOVI: and then we end up waking up Busta

and we sped out of your hood

me: my eyes are tearing up.

JOVI: :)

Good thing the DH didn't show up to the front door with a gun.

That story makes judging the cd's that much more fun.

Whoa.

2011-05-16T22:54:00.000-07:00

Here's an update on good ol' Beavis.

Read it before reading the rest of this entry.

I have to admit, I wasn't sad when I first found out about Beavis. That guy was a total asshole to us from the instant we moved in. And really? What a loser. Never moved out of his parents' house for very long. Never had a real job. Never did anything with his life except cause trouble, surf, park cars to rot in front of his parents' housee, and make babies.

But as the day wore on and I did a little online reading about his untimely demise, I felt a growing unease. Despite the fact that I really believe he reaped what he sowed in life, knowing that the person who shot him multiple times is still on the loose is incredibly unsettling. Not that I expect them to come after me or anything like that.

No, it's just the escalation of a lack of humanity that Beavis exhibited himself most of the time. Whomever killed Beavis is Beavis times twenty on the asshole scale. And that's a helluva scale. I would feel differently if there was a suspect apprehended. It would be like a Hollywood movie ending. Everything tied up in a neat little package.

But life is rarely about neat little packages. It's more like a haphazardly woven piece of cloth with different sizes and colors of thread. No even sides, no consistent thread count, just squiggly pieces twisting around and through other pieces willy-nilly. I think I need a reason for Beavis' death, even though I can guess at it. He died because he was an asshole to the wrong person. But really? Weird shit can happen to anyone without rhyme or reason, no matter how desperately we try to find that very thing.

So what do I get out of the Beavis experience, other than realizing that my most entertaining blog entries are due to the pain and stress he inflicted on me? I don't know. It may be too early to know. I'm happy I don't have to worry that he'll steal our stuff, set our house on fire, literally attack us when we walk to our car, or park another goddam vehicle in front of our house for a year anymore. Is that it? Is that where the psychotic Beavis thread in life ends?

Maybe so. Maybe so.

Hey, what?

2011-05-08T09:27:00.000-07:00

Long time, no post.

I saw this photo on the internetz and thought I'd share. I want this shirt!

Today is Mother's Day. I gotta call my mom in a few minutes. I'm bummed I won't be able to see her today, but my sister and I are planning on visiting next month for Father's Day. For both of us, job stuff is keeping us on our toes and in town. Bleh! Luckily our parents understand, and they're busy trying to save their house from the Basset Hound puppy they got a couple months ago anyway.

I just realized that my mom is much like my derby team in a key attitude perspective. They both undersell themselves. When I was a kid, my family would watch Jeopardy on tv while eating dinner, and my mom was always able to quickly answer all the trivia questions. She's a very literate, very smart, very astute woman. But because of some of the things life dealt her from within and without, she doesn't see what she does so well. She could do amazing things if she thought she could. At one point in her life she had wanted to be a lawyer. She would've been a KICKASS lawyer, but for various reasons, she didn't think she could. So she didn't. I wish she had, because I think it would've been the best mental workout she could ever have!

And that's applicable to my team, as well. An amazing group with amazing abilities, and when the collective keeps its cool, a bunch of kickassery happens on the track. But man, once self-doubt weasels its way in on the bench, the motivation to do well kills the aptitude, and it's back to being the Bad News Bears sometimes.

Of course this happens a lot to a lot of different people in different situations. It's human nature. And I know I sound kinda hippyish in that I do think a positive attitude can help with aptitude in many situations. Lately I've been really, REALLY down on myself. I don't know whether it's just me or whether it's coming from those around me as well, but really? Life's too short for that.

So this is today's message:

You're OK. In fact, you're probably pretty fucking awesome. Whatever you're doing at work, at home, for derby, for the local homeless shelter or animal rescue? THAT'S FUCKING FANTASTIC. You rock! Whenever you think no one notices you or says thanks for what you do? They may be too shy, or momentarily too caught up in their world to let you know that you affect them in a positive way. You matter. You really do.

The Other Side

2011-04-25T21:44:00.000-07:00

Anyone who has skated derby for more than five seconds knows that injuries happen.

The attitude one takes toward getting injured determines whether that person comes back for more when they're healed.

But what about the one who may have caused said injury?

I'm dealing with an incident that happened yesterday when we had visiting skaters from a league that's in the beginning stages of getting a banked track. We were playing during wRECk League, and it was a session that was got a bit...aggressive at times. Not all on me, by the by. But I was getting wound up, and it started to show in the previous couple of jams I skated in. Then...it happened. I was at the front of the start line. I see one of the visitors lined up behind me, just downhill from where I was at. The pack whistle blew, and I threw a shoulder at her. Unfortunately said shoulder hit this skater in the face, and she went down immediately. Hitting off the line isn't unusual for us, and everyone else started forward as if nothing had happened. The jammer whistle blew, the jammers took off, and the skater I'd hit was still in the infield. Shit.

Jam was called off. Injured skater got to her bench, she was checked out, and the jam was reset. I found out afterwards that I momentarily dislocated this poor girl's jaw on the left side. She popped it back into place, sat out five jams, and came back in and skated as if nothing had happened.

But DAMN, how does one deal with the guilt of a hit, no matter how it happened, when an injury is the result?

It could be said that I'm just a jerk. This post can remind one of that. But I'm not out to hurt anyone. I don't have any pride for hurting anyone for real while playing. I've been on the receiving end of this type of event, too. I had my right ankle screwed up for six weeks when I got stuck in a Siren sandwich back in 2005. Heaven knows how many times I hyper-extended both shoulders from falling after either getting hit or tangled up with other skaters. Bruised ribs? Yeah, got that, too. My one concussion was all my fault, though.

All of this made me concentrate even more on general form when I had to teach the Fresh Meat later in the day. I hope they catch on quick and don't do stupid things like me. DO AS I SAY, NOT AS I DO!

What's In A Name?

2011-04-24T12:37:00.000-07:00

Long-time LA Derby Dolls fan and game reviewer DF just coughed up an amazing paper about DIY derby names. I'm not saying that it's amazing because I'm mentioned in it, but it certainly doesn't hurt. I'm not one for reading legal papers on a regular basis, but DF has done for legal papers what he's done for game reviews: he made for interesting and funny reading. You can download the pdf here.

Good grief...

2011-04-16T09:25:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning started normal. Did my bicycle ride, a few burpees, made lunch and took the Softail to work.

As I was riding up Bob Hope Drive to Alameda, I see a long line of cars waiting to turn right. Which happened to be the direction I wanted to go. DAMMIT. I thought to myself. Some asshole is asleep at the wheel and is holding up traffic. ASSHOLE. Since I myself have assholish tendencies, I rode the bike up the left turn lane and turned right onto Alameda. As I whooshed by, I see what the hold up is that's creating this conga line of non-movement and increasingly loud car horn cacophony.

A midsize VW car is in the middle of the lane, hazard lights on. Obviously it died while making the turn. The driver of the car was standing on the sidewalk corner, cell phone in hand, visibly upset at how her morning was progressing. Or not progressing, as the case may be. She was small, petite, brunette, and not up to the task of being an on-site mechanic to figure out what's wrong with her car.

The thing that got me about the whole situation was that there were at least ten cars sitting behind her car. Gawd knows how many other people who were making a left turn and could see that this tiny woman was in distress. But no one stopped. No one got out of their own little metal cave to ask if she needed help. No one called AAA or the police. They just sat and honked their fucking horns.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

And now we take a break from yesterday's adventure to tell another quick story:

Something similar happened to my sister last month. She had been running errands on a fine Saturday afternoon, and as she was leaving a grocery store parking lot, a sensor in her car decided to die just as she was about to turn out of the parking lot. Again, no one stopped, no one asked if she needed help, no one did anything except honk their horns and eventually worked their way around her car to go on their way. She called me in a panic, and I asked her calmly if she had called AAA yet. She thought for a moment, said she thought she still had time on her extended warranty from her car company, and would call them. As she did that, I put on my shoes and drove over to where she was at. On the way I spotted some Girl Scouts selling cookies in front of their house, so I got two boxes of Thin Mints(one for me, one for my sister), and continued on my way.

By the time I got to where my sister was, she was a little more calm, having figured out that she couldn't use her extended warranty, and so had called AAA in the meantime. I started to help push her car out of the grocery store driveway back into the lot. An old man who happened to be wandering by stopped and helped us, and I think he was kinda-sorta hitting on me. Or he was just a touchy-feely type of guy. Either way, he got $20 from my very relieved sister for helping out. About ten minutes after that the AAA guy came along and we managed to load my sister's car up and get it to a local dealer just as they were closing for the day. Everything turned out OK, because my sister got some help instead of a ration of shit from asshole strangers.

Back to yesterday's story.

With my sister's car mishap fresh in my mind, I immediately pulled over to the side of Alameda as I passed the petite woman and her car trouble. As I stomped over to where she was standing, she was yelling back at the asshats who were still sitting in their cars honking their horns. I said, HEY! and she immediately turned around. Do you want me to help you push your car to the side of the road? I ask. YES! PLEASE! she cried. OK, put your car into neutral and you steer it over while I push. I replied.

This is the part where things get hilarious. I've pushed cars before, obviously. But usually with a little help. The woman puts her car into neutral and gets in the car. Oh, jeez! Ah well, might as well give it a try. What do I have to lose, except maybe a little pride?

I start to push. Nothing happens. I keep pushing. Nothing. Oh shit! I start to think. Some fuckwad starts honking their damn horn. I turn around and gave them the GLARE OF DEATH. What kind of mindless idiot who can see that the car needs to be pushed out of the way and sees a WOMAN doing it would DARE honk their fucking horn instead of getting their lazy ass out of their own car and helping?! Fucking coward!

The GLARE OF DEATH worked, and apparently the added adrenaline rush from the honking jerkface got me to slowly push the car forward. In about three minutes the car gained momentum and was moved to the side of the road, perfectly parked behind my motorcycle and out of harm's way.

I did what I did not because I think I'm better than anyone else. But based on these people's reaction to a situation, I've decided I'm certainly no worse than anyone else. I'm not a superhero; I did what I did because I've been in that situation and every little bit of help helps me deal with it so that I get out of everyone's hair and things can go back to normal. I did what I did because I just wanted to get to work on time, but the broken car was preventing that. So I helped move the car out of the way so that everyone else could go about their day while the woman could deal with calling for help in relative safety. I did what I did because I saw a situation that needed to be fixed, and it wasn't a big deal to fix it. Yet no one else felt they could be bothered to help fix it. Instead they sat and bitched about it.

Part of it is human nature, to be sure. But it also PISSED ME THE HELL OFF that we as a society seem to have gotten to such a point where we're too mentally paralyzed to help ourselves and fix things for ourselves even when we have the direct impact to do so. Even when there's someone who obviously needs just a little boost, no one would give them one. Even if that boost would benefit themselves as well as the person who directly needs that boost. What will it take to get people off their asses? I don't know.

I tell this story not to stroke my own ego, but to remind everyone to help fix the problems of life, not be part of them. We all have shit going on, but sometimes just a little gesture can help someone else get through a tough day as well as helping oneself along. I wish more people would do that.

An Uncomfortable Afternoon

2011-04-13T23:25:00.000-07:00

This past weekend was a busy one of running errands, going to bachelorette parties, beach skating, taking care of stuff around the house and having an early dinner with the in-laws.

It took us a few minutes to even decide which route to take to said dinner: surface streets or the freeway. The Dear Husband pondered surface streets while I said, Why the hell wouldn't we take the freeway? It's Sunday, it's warm, everyone will be at the beach, it'll be clear.

Jinx.

As soon as we got on the freeway, it was backed up.We quickly saw the reason. There was an accident in the two right lanes of the 10 where it transitions to the 405. A car was parked sideways across the two lanes. As we crawled by, we saw a sport bike lying on its side...next to another sport bike also lying on its side. DAMN. With the sideways-parked car, this looked ugly. The CHP wasn't on scene yet. No ambulances, no flashing lights, no sirens of any sort yet. There were people milling about in the middle of the blocked off lanes; some just looking, a couple people on cell phones. And then we saw the worst part: one of the motorcyclists was still splayed out on the scene, laying on the road.

HOLY FUCK.

HOLY.

FUCK.

He wasn't alive. It was in the way he lied there...crumpled clothes and ragamuffin limbs. He was wearing full gear, including a full-face helmet. He was lying on his stomach with his head turned to the side. The way his head was turned so far to the side looked wrong. A live neck wouldn't be able to do that with that helmet on. After years of seeing horrific images of roadkill in my travels and being occasionally haunted by such memories, this just crowded everything else out.

The DH hopefully said, Maybe he's just unconscious. I squinted at the dead man's face. No. I said. He's gone. I can tell by the way he's lying there...he's gone. The DH remained optimistic. He might be fine, we'll find out on our way back...if the scene is still closed, we'll know he died. If not, he's alive.

When things like this happen, the usual thought that first springs to mind is: What did the biker do to get himself killed? Especially with sport bikes. Some people call those riders "squids" because they do stupid things at high speeds and get themselves hurt or killed for their shenanigans. Two bikes down, a car parked sideways across the lanes...what the hell happened? The DH speculated for the rest of the trip. Maybe they did something stupid? Maybe a car cut in front of them? Maybe a car cut off one of the bikes, and the other came up to the car?

No matter what brand or type of motorcycle, I feel a type of kinship with most riders because the laws of physics are against us when there's a motorcycle involved. Well, except when we lanesplit. That's the joy of riding a bike in California. The flip side is we're always going to lose in a crash, no matter how minor because we're so exposed without that metal cage of a car around us to protect us on impact.

Needless to say, this event put us in a weirdly foul mood for dinner. We didn't explain why, we just soldiered through. On our way home, we saw the CHP on the taped off scene, taking measurements. The car and bikes were gone. The motorcyclist we saw was indeed dead and also had been taken away.

To go from reading articles, seeing news footage, or even seeing wreckage to visual fact on a fatal accident isn't in most people's experiences, despite those of us who live in big cities and therefore would be more likely to see this sort of thing to begin with. I've lived in LA for 20 years and have seen accidents of mangled metal, but if anyone was injured or whatnot, they were already gone by the time I've rolled by in the ensuing traffic backup.

How emergency workers, cops, firemen, and accident site cleanup crews do it day after day, year after year boggles my mind. How do they cope with such horror?

This obviously shook me up, to see the direct human cost. Especially since we didn't know what caused it.

We watched the late night news, hoping to hear what caused this mess, but a driveby shooting at a Taco Bell in Rialto took the top headlines. We looked at the CHP site and news station sites online, but to no avail. The CHP site merely listed when the call came in about the accident, what time the officers got there, what time the ambulance arrived on scene(fifty minutes after the accident was first reported, by the way.), etc.

It wasn't until Monday morning when I perused the LA Times website that I found a short blurb about the accident. The two bikers were weaving through the traffic, and one hit the other. A car was somehow involved, but the article didn't clearly explain how. Anyway, both bikers went flying through the air. One lived, the other died. Drinking was involved. The dead one was only 23 years old.

I won't lie when I sighed with a very slight sense of relief, because there wasn't any indication that a car purposely cut in front of the bikes as they whizzed through traffic. They seemed to be solely responsible for their own tragedy. That previous kinship and horror I felt for the riders were a little bit abated, because damn, it's so stupid to drink and ride. But a new fear and paranoia about riding settled into my brain; burrowing its way through all the good memories of riding.

Tuesday morning I decided to ride to work. I was terrified. But even though I hadn't directly been involved in the accident, mentally I had to get back on the motorcycle horse, even though it was just psychological.

I didn't ride fast. I didn't ride crazy. Well, contrary to popular belief, I've been mellowing out on the fast and furious lanesplitting and stuff since I joined derby. The direct physics lessons a full-contact sport has given me new respect for the damage I could do to myself if I didn't pay attention. And I got to work safely. I rode home with no incident, either.

Thank goodness.

But I continue to feel very unsettled. It's going to last for awhile.

2011-04-05T06:44:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday I team managed the Tough Cookies. Fight Crew co-captain Haught Wheels bench managed them. In other words, Haughty kept track of penalties while I adjusted the lineups according to the penalties.

Anyway, I had expected to dress like a slob for the game. I wasn't feelin' the Pretty. But Haughty was. She texted me the night before the game to say that she was Doin' Pretty because she was highly impressed with how spiffy and professional Gotham Girls' infield managers dressed for games. Dammit. I changed my Saturday plans to include Trying To Make My Hair Do What I Wanted time and borrowed Iron Maiven's troop leader uniform.

This amazing photo was taken by Jess Reynolds as we were watching the intro clip for the game:

My favorite comment made about this photo was made by one of our skaters who said, Oh my god, it's like an old school Sears portrait of sisters. Hahahahahahaha!!!

In completely unrelated news: I'm not adjusting to getting up at six o'clock in the morning for work. Well, I'm kinda adjusting, just not well. I don't know why this is when I was able to do it last year, but it ain't workin' for me this year. Speaking of, I gotta get it together and commute to work.

BC Glasses

2011-04-03T00:21:00.000-07:00

Two years ago I went through the trauma of picking out new eyeglass frames.

I have to admit, I ended up not liking the frames I chose. So when I went in for an eye exam last week, I decided that I needed new eyeglass frames again.

As soon as I got my updated eye prescription, I started roaming around the eyeglass shop ready to pick out THEE new glasses. After ten minutes, I found myself bogged down in overwhelming crapaciousness. I wanted something retro-ish but not too girly. But not too masculine, either. And nothing that curved down at the top because I'd get that annoying angry librarian look that doesn't work well on me. But at that moment I wasn't finding much of anything that was appealing.

Luckily a saleswoman came up to me and I happily let her start picking out frames for me. In another ten minutes she found frames that I thought were cool and hilarious at the same time. As soon as I tried them on, I knew I'd end up with them:

I look like crap in the photo because I have zero makeup on, but the glasses are cool in a supernerdy way. I call them my BC glasses for obvious reasons. They're Raybans, they're burgundy-colored, and heavier than my old glasses because they're bigger. The prescription is uber-visible, but at the moment I don't care. There's just something about them that I'm liking for the moment. I have a better feeling about these than I did my previous pair, so I hope to hang on to these frames for awhile!

Dammit

2011-03-30T23:24:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile since I had to write a letter to my bike. But apparently it's time to do it again. So here we go...

Dear Sportster:

You're so saucy and cute. You lanesplit like a champ. You're nimble and get great gas mileage. You don't have a lot of icky chrome on you to distract from your awesomeness. I love taking you to work.

So why do you keep crapping out on me?

You can't blame me for not riding you quite as often as I should...it's been raining, for fuck's sake. A LOT. But c'mon, I took you out over the Softail on more than one occasion to show you off when the skies were clear. And with the new job I just started this week, you get to go to Borebank often.

But you apparently like to hold grudges.

What was it about yesterday that pissed you off so much? Was it the fact that I had to take the freeway the entire way to work? It couldn't have been the weather, it was sunny and cool but not cold. Borebank isn't so bad...you usually like the parking space that's right in front of the studio, where EVERYONE can see you, so it can't be that. I even took surface streets for part of the way home instead of taking the crapacious 101 freeway, and we cut through a shit ton of traffic. Yay, us!

When you died at the intersection of Laurel Canyon and Riverside, I was shocked. And pissed. Luckily there was a Mobil station right across the intersection from where you staged your protest, and after waiting in the middle of the westbound lanes on Riverside for an extremely harrowing streetlight cycle, I pushed you to the gas station. I had just filled the gas tank, so that's not the problem. The lights work, the battery is new, and you'd turn over but wouldn't catch. WTF?!?!?!

I let you rest for a minute, and tried starting you again. You refused.

A guy who may or may not have been a rider asked me if I was alright, but didn't have any tools. But he was very nice and said that if I needed anything, to go to the bar next to the gas station.

I should've gone and had a drink or five.

Instead, I called AAA. Twenty minutes, they say. Fine, no problem, I say.

During the initial twenty minutes I tried a few more times to start you up. Same thing: lights, turning over, but you wouldn't catch. DAMMIT.

Twenty minutes later I get another call from AAA. They now say it'll be an HOUR AND A HALF before I get rescued.

I hope you felt proud of yourself when I did what any roller derby-playin', murdersickle-ridin' grown woman would do in that situation...I burst into tears.

It's not that the intersection of Laurel Canyon and Riverside is a shithole neighborhood, but there were definitely a few shady characters lurking about. What is it about gas stations that brings out the shady lurkers, anyway?! I notice one particular creepy weird dude wander by the bus stop on the opposite side of the gas station, talking to himself as I dropped to the curb and sobbed to myself. Then he starts lumbering towards the gas station. You know where this is going, right, Sportster?

After about fifteen minutes of me freaking out, my phone rings. It's the tow company saying that it'll be fifteen minutes. They had a couple of cancellations.

OH THANK JEEBUS.

I try starting you up again just for shits and giggles, dear Sportster. Nope, not gonna happen.

The tow truck pulls into the gas station just as the Creepy Weird Dude who was lurking by the bus stop walks by me and starts to talk to me. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. The driver comes over and that is enough to shoo away the Creepy Weird Dude. Whew!

We talk about what went wrong with you, Sportster. And then you made me look like a total asshole by STARTING UP JUST FUCKING FINE when I turn on the ignition.

GODDAMIT.

The driver asks if I still want a tow. The look on my face must've been priceless, for he immediately says, Ah, you don't want to get stuck again before you get home. Alright, let's get going. And off he goes to prep the tow truck bed to take your miserable metal self back to the Westside.

Since the Harley dealer doesn't have a drop off spot for broken bikes after hours, I bring you back to home. You got a smooth ride, the tow truck driver was very nice and very conscientious. By this time, it's late enough where traffic going to the Westside isn't bad at all, though the driver will be in Driving Hell getting back to the Valley after you're dropped off.

There's something about you, Sportster, that keeps AAA drivers from charging me the extra mileage when you're towed beyond ten miles. And I guess I'm a sucker for you, too, as I'm going to limp you to the Harley dealer on Saturday and see if they can track down what the hell is wrong with you. Because I DO NOT want to have any more towing adventures, Sportster. DO YOU HEAR ME?! You must be ridden, not towed!

C'mon, you don't want to be stuck in the garage any more than I want to leave you in there, unridden and neglected. Summer's comin' and you gotta get out there and enjoy it!

xoxo,
Me

Brain Dead

2011-03-24T12:26:00.000-07:00

I seem to be creatively brain dead when it comes to my own artwork.

Next week I start a new short-term gig, and I know I'll get my shit together to do a good job on that. But I'm squandering my free time away on...almost nothing.

OK, I did useful things like get an oil change for the car, purchased new contact lenses and eyeglasses, and started to go through the millions of packing boxes full of crap that the Dear Husband and I haven't touched in at least ten years.

But artistically I'm in the middle of a Sahara-sized creative desert.

I don't know whether it's continued stress, frustration and burnout from derby(part of it definitely is), or if it's continued stress and frustration about not having a steady gig, or about not feeling as confident about my own art as maybe I could/should.

I do know that I'm taking things on a day-to-day basis on just being not miserable. And that's OK for the moment. I'm enjoying stupid shit like this as I sit on the computer:

For some reason 80's funk is really making me happy when I listen to it. Nostalgia? I hope not!

And then there's this:

I can't say I like 50 cent. But damn, his music just grooves for me, especially when I'm out running errands on the bicycle.

The Dear Husband just started a new job which makes him(and me)very happy. He's working in the mid-city area where all the gourmet food trucks gather at lunchtime. It's as if he's in Foodie Mecca. Lucky bastard!

Welp, I have two more days to waste before going back to work, so I shall get back to it. Not a very inspiring blog posts, but they all can't be winners.

Last London Photo Dump

2011-03-18T13:47:00.000-07:00

This is hopefully the last installment of, Hey! I Finally Got Out of the USA for a Fun Trip!

When my sister and I got back to London from Amsterdam, it was my sister's turn to have a total meltdown. The hotel we were scheduled to stay at was, how shall I say? Icky. It was in a good neighborhood, right next to the east end of Hyde Park, and the lobby was newly remodeled. But the room? Small, cramped, and dirty. The hallway gave an indication of this when we noticed the door moldings appeared to have been gnawed on by rats.

YUCK.

My sister was still in the throes of sickness, and absolutely LOST HER MIND. She stated, I'M NOT STAYING HERE EVEN ONE NIGHT. THIS PLACE IS GROSS! She called her LA boss immediately(it was early evening in London, early morning in LA), told her about the squalid conditions, and even took photos with her phone to send to her boss to show that she wasn't exaggerating. So if you get reservations for a hotel near Hyde Park that rhymes with "cummerbund", change said reservations IMMEDIATELY.

Luckily her boss is awesome and quickly switched our lodgings to a place that's on the western edge of Hyde Park on Kensington High Street. This place was fancy, but not in the same fancy way that our Amsterdam hotel was fancy. This place was understated modern British fancy.

It was so fancy, rich Arabs were staying there. THAT'S PRETTY DAMN FANCY, PEOPLE.

We were so damn happy, we celebrated in style:

In the morning, I enjoyed the view of Hyde Park from our hotel room window:

And when I looked to the left, I see...Kensington Palace!

My sister was too tired to come out and do stuff, so I was left to amuse myself.

After another ridiculously delicious British breakfast, I went out to take photos of me in front of Kensington Palace:

Then I wandered through Hyde Park. From there I wandered east and covered a great deal of Very Central London. I should go to googlemaps and see if I can map my route and get a mileage reading. My feet say I walked a LOT.

On my way back to the hotel, I found Royal Albert Hall:

And an Albert statue, right across the street from RAH:

And I had to get a photo with an iconic phone booth:

Later in the day my sister was finally feeling well enough to do something, so I took her to Camden. I went there with former ACDG skater Bette Noir before we went to Amsterdam, and got a quick tour of the place. This time, I got to linger a bit more with my sister in tow. It was fun!

Camden canals:

We also did some wandering on Kensington High Street. This is the only photo I got of my sister the entire trip, and it was akin to pulling teeth from a wolverine to get it:

The day of our departure I wanted to go to the Harley dealer in London to get the Dear Husband a shirt. I took an arbitrary LONG walk to get there, and on my way I spotted this:

The house where Benny Hill used to live!

I managed to get lost on the way back to the hotel, which freaked me out since I was cutting it very close timewise to finish packing and get going to the airport.

Oh, I walked across Tower Bridge. Not on the last day I was there, but here are the pix anyway:

Every time I look at my vacation photos, I want to go back SOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH.

Proven Wrong

2011-03-15T08:50:00.000-07:00

Remember when I did some shit-talking about this logo?

Welp, it looks like I jumped to conclusions. A couple of Pearl River peeps commented on that post last night, saying that they indeed DID get permission to use that drawing from Sure Grip.

YAYYYYYYY!!!!!

Which means I'm back to not being blatantly ripped off art-wise!

YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So there you have it. I'm a jaded, cranky asshole who got this wrong. If I'm going to be wrong about something, I'm glad it was over something like this! Carry on, Pearl River, carry on.

Completed...

2011-03-14T22:59:00.000-07:00

Final artwork for this year's Battle on the Bank tournament.

BOOM.

Done.

I think it turned out pretty good...I actually looked at a shit ton of derby photos before attacking this, as I feel that I use the same type of pose all the time. Now I know why...to do this particular style with the pointed toes on the skaters really limits what works and what doesn't posing-wise! Ah well, as long as it works!

THEE Hat

2011-03-10T13:00:00.000-08:00

The first day we were in Amsterdam, my sister and I found a flea market in our afternoon wanderings. While there, I found an awesome hat. Lately I've been enjoying hats more, and this one was way cool. However, since I was a dumbass, I didn't purchase it right away like I should have.

When I went back to the flea market the next day, the lady with the hats wasn't there. D'OH. I made it a point to go by the flea market every day to see if the hat lady with THEE hat would show up. I was sorely disappointed each day to wander down the aisle and see the skeletal remains of the booth with no hats inside said booth. Until the morning we were scheduled to leave to go back to London:

SUCCESS. A sunny day and a new hat! The photo makes the hat look like a bowler. It's not. It's a more feminine version of a fedora. And it's cool.

An atypical dinner in Amsterdam for us. NOM NOM NOM:

A typical building in the City Center:

A real live Rembrandt etching:

Watching the process of how that was done was really great to see. At the Rembrandt house they have a room with all the etching stuff and primitive printing press. While I was wandering around in that particular room, a small group of German tourists came through and started asking questions to the museum employee who was in there manning the press. He went into a German explanation of the tools used, the printing process, the type of paper used, etc. I don't know German, but I was able to follow the lecture the entire time. WEIRD.

On our last night in Amsterdam, we went for Mexican food. I know, I know. I live in LA, why would I go to a Mexican restaurant in Amsterdam?! Because they had this as a window display:

The penguin spun around. I couldn't pass that up!

First course: onion rings and what the menu called a "quesada", but it was really a quesadilla:

And we forgot to take a photo of the nachos before we destroyed them:

The margaritas they had were en pointe, too!

Is it about YOU?

2011-03-08T13:43:00.000-08:00

I'm back to brooding today.

I remember when DIY derby was meant to be inclusive...every body type, every background, every woman was encouraged to join. The biggest bullshittery that went on a few years back was flat vs. banked track. Which I want to comment on in a different post. More on that later. Anyway, yeah...inclusive.

But now, it's getting more exclusive and dooshy. It starts with basic human nature stuff like cliques. Maybe it moves to how teams and practices are structured. Or it becomes difficult to even sign up as fresh meat for a league that may not be chock-full of skaters.

Maybe there's a power-hungry person or three who takes over a committee, or bullies others on how things should be done in their eyes within the league...whether it's their business to do so or not. These types probably haven't done a lot of team sports or team anything in their past with much success. Right now I'm seeing a lot of that type of crapaciousness up close and personal. If I wasn't subject to Code of Conduct violations, I'd be doing a lot of gut-punching on others this very moment.

I find it weird when teams and leagues get the doosh label when the majority of the individuals who make up that team or league can be perfectly nice. What is it about the group dynamic that takes a logically-thinking person and turn her into an asshole when she's with the dooshtastic team or league in question?

I'm also noticing a lot of petitions and groups on Facebook that cater to flat track only. Like the petition to get flat track derby on tv. Or the flat track derby announcers group. Gosh, jackholes, are you still insecure about fans liking banked track better than flat, or are you purposely ignorant that DIY banked track isn't all that you were told they were in the '70's? Get out of your box.

That means everybody. Get the fuck out of your box and really take a look around you at yourself, your team, and your league. Are the things you're doing by shutting others out really the path to grow this crazy hobby into a paying gig? There are standards for things, sure...like having whomever is running the league finances have some reasonable financial training, for example. Or the skaters on the travel team should actually be the best derby players.

On the other hand, if you shut out your skaters in your league from doing stuff, you're playing to your own ego and shortselling the future of your league. You have to train the future leaders and skaters for your league if you expect it to last, and for them to remember you with fondness(if at all), instead of as That Cunt Who Needed To Get Her Head Out Of Her Ass And Thank Fucking Keerist She's Gone.

As things are getting bigger, I don't know if it's getting better. Some of it is growing pains, sure. But some of it is preventable dooshiness. It's difficult to sometimes see when one is being selfish, but I'm finding that if others are as unhappy as you are, then something's going on, and it may not be good.

I'd like to see the fun put back in the dysfunctional of this adventure.

AmsterDAYUM

2011-03-07T10:45:00.000-08:00

I'm still trying to catch up on posting photos from my European Adventures from January. Yes, I'm tardy. So what. I'm cranky today, so deal with it.

Going from London to Amsterdam broke my brain.

After having been in the UK for almost a week, my sister and I flew to Amsterdam. We flew on KLM, which takes a much more relaxed attitude about boarding the plane, listening to the safety instructions, and checking to see if one has turned off their cell phones or mp3 players or not. I had to give up my precious skates to checkin, as the flight was full, but they were very nice about it and I wasn't charged to check in the bag. Win? Their snacks sucked, but they had Coke with real sugar, and it was DELICIOUS. Fuck you, US Coke. Corn syrup is rancid.

Anyway, my brain broke as soon as we got off the plane and saw that all the signs in the airport were in Dutch. Now, everyone in Amsterdam pretty much speaks English, but for some reason I expected more of the signage to also be in English. Nope. Maybe it was the sugar from the Coke, but I just about freaked out.

My sister and I had to take a deep breath, get a coffee, and figure out how to get from the airport to Centraal Station via the train. It took us about seven tries with the automated ticket machines to figure it out, but figure it out we did!

As with London, I walked everywhere and got lost every day. The tram stops don't have the handy street maps that the London bus stops do, so I had to attempt to not look too much like a tourist as I pulled out my map every two blocks to figure out where the hell I was. I was more worried about looking like a tourist here than in London because I was told that pickpockets will swarm upon any tourist who made themselves obvious and pick them clean of any useful belongings. No one bothered me at all.

Speaking of obvious:

That photo is SO Amsterdam to me. Very pretty architecture-wise, lots of old stuff to look at, yet there was a messiness to the place that's an interesting antidote to the prettiness.

This is the church across the street and canal from our hotel:

Here is the hotel we stayed in:

I should post the pix I took of our hotel room. It was RIDICULOUSLY nice. I was feeling all swank and stuff. The big drawback to the place was that the city had torn up the street right outside the hotel. So when we were dropped off by the taxi, we had to hike down the block through dirt and scattered cobblestones to get to the front door. My travel agent sister had a shit fit. I didn't care once I saw the room. By this time my sister was full-blown sick with a cold/flu thingy that kept her from having as much fun as she should've. I had brought some old-fashioned sudafed with me, and that was the only thing that kept her functioning on any level whatsoever.

The Salad Trouble that plagued me in London was evident in Amsterdam, too. All I wanted was green leafy foodstuff, and I couldn't find it for the life of me. Until I stumbled upon the Hard Rock Cafe in my wanderings. I hate places like that, but I knew they'd have a fucking salad.

Meet my so-so salad, delicious bottled water and fantastic Long Island Ice Tea:

I don't know what the deal is with this cool skull arch, but it's cool. So I took a photo of it.

This apartment window was funny. Bogart and gnomes. The Bogart was great enough...

...but it got better when one noticed the gnome-like critters:

I didn't drink in here...in fact, I didn't hang out in a single Amsterdam pub. But hey! I had to document its existence for obvious reasons:

The Best Thing about Camp This Year.

2011-03-04T21:04:00.000-08:00

March RADness is in full swing this weekend. It's pretty damn fun. I'm getting to take more classes this year, which rocks my world. Especially when those classes are led by skaters such as Deranged, Psycho Babble, Carmen Getsome, OMG WTF and Bonnie Thunders. We even have Pitchit from AZ out to teach stuff.

But the most fun part is this year's in-joke. It started yesterday at lunch. Some of the trainers are eating Italian food in the room where the trainers are designated to put their stuff. Lace N' Arsenic, Deranged, Psycho Babble, Carmen Getsome, Skatum O'Neal, Chargin' Tina, Cherrylicious, Isabelle Ringer and myself are amongst the ones stuffing our faces. Lace sees Chargy munching on a piece of pizza-ish bread and asks, Is that ice cream? No. Chargy replied. We then ALL sigh and wish we had ice cream. I said, If one of the visiting trainers wanted ice cream, Demolicious would TOTALLY go out and get it. And it was quickly decided that Bonnie "I don't have an ounce of body fat on me" Thunders would DEMAND ice cream or else she'd walk out on camp.

Now, you have to know a little more about Ms. Thunders to realize how totally absurd this is. She's awesome in the best way possible. She is a great trainer, a dedicated athlete, and is very nice, though a bit aloof. She's a vegetarian and doesn't eat junk food. People are in awe of her...it's really funny to watch. But from what I've seen she's very down to earth.

She wasn't in the room while all this silliness took place. Demolicious comes by and asks if we need anything. We tell her that Bonnie Thunders DEMANDS ice cream sandwiches. Neopolitan flavor. With the strawberry part cut out. She laughed and says, REALLY? We say, OH YES. She laughs again and leaves the room.

An hour later she comes back with a box of ice cream sandwiches. WE DIE LAUGHING.

The joke of course has expanded to the point where Bonnie Thunders is "demanding" endless cans of regular Coke, a mini-horse who hates children, a gravel pit to play in and a swimming pool on the roof of the Doll Factory. We crack ourselves up.

During one of the afternoon breaks I came into the trainer room and see Bonnie and OMG WTF sitting next to their gear. I ask if she enjoyed the ice cream sandwiches. She laughed, but apparently hadn't been let in on the entire joke. She wasn't told until dinnertime, when more jokes about her "demands" surfaced, and she had been dismayed that anyone would think she's being a diva. Once she was told that the joke wasn't on her, she joined in.

Being easily amused has its advantages!

Cat's Out of the Bag...I mean, Hoodie

2011-03-01T15:36:00.000-08:00

Back in November I was talking to Wanton Rebellion from Scarred Derby Designs while we were in Chicago for WFTDA Nationalships. We were joking about the Pivotstar contest to name their armless hoodie...you know, the contest I lost. She said, You should have your own hoodie anyway! I concurred.

About a month later she emails me asking if I was still interested in doing said hoodie. OF COURSE! I reply.

Then I got caught up in the new derby season and hating my life and going to Europe and rediscovering my reason for living. Wanton reminded me that she needed the design in time to start selling the hoodies at Wild West Showdown in Bremerton, Washington this weekend.

So I started to sweat, busted out a design, and hoped for the best.

Today she sent me this photo:

GIGGITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If you're going to Wild West Showdown, you can get a hoodie there. Or you can go here and ask them nicely how to order one.

Did I say GIGGITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! already?!

Stumped

2011-03-01T09:08:00.000-08:00

Sunday afternoon I was stumped.

I had to lead Fresh Meat practice in, "Jamming, Blocking, Light Scrimmaging".

Which should be a cinch, since "blocking" is right in there. But in reality, I was stumped on what to do. Why?

Because the previous night New York's Gotham Girls came and played against LA, and it was AMAZING to watch. Mainly for badass Gotham jammer Bonnie Thunders.

The girl's got smarts and footwork like nobody's business. The rest of the team follow suit; they're a team of long and lean athletes that know their stuff. I believe the only reason they lost to LA was because they didn't keep tighter packs. You can't go one-on-one as well on the bank against a fast-moving jammer.

Anyway, after seeing Bonnie skate, my mind became overloaded with awesomeness. How the hell am I going to teach our Freshies a damn thing about jamming when Bonnie's in town?!

I sat down to write up my lesson plan. And threw it away. Went back to a blank sheet of paper, started scribbling, and threw that away, too. I swear I threw away four to five lesson plans when I usually don't go beyond numero two-o. I had looked at drills, plans, and other training stuff online and that hadn't helped either.

I just couldn't get beyond not feeling worthy enough to do the job effectively.

I finally wrote up something that was semi-suitable and trundled off to wRECk League.

Which turned out to be the best way to use the cntrl + alt + delete on my brain to restart it.

I didn't play particularly well at wL, but there were a few skaters from a league in San Diego that have flat track experience but have never been on the bank. And that's where I was able to draw my lesson plan from.

After scrimmaging I took advantage of the hour of downtime between wL and Fresh Meat practice and quickly wrote up my lesson plan in about five minutes. BOOM. Finally done.

And FM practice ended up being awesome.

It's not that I came up with anything mind-blowing, but I came up with a series of drills that built up to the results that I wanted to see. Which I try to do at every practice, but somehow it worked particularly well for this one.

Which made me happy, as I saw some vital improvement in so many of the skaters! I hope that they take what all the trainers are giving them and putting it all to good use!

When it comes to other league stuff, especially politics, I'm really beginning to take this attitude:

Thank you, Xena.

Further Adventures in Nottingham

2011-02-26T10:14:00.000-08:00

Things I unexpectedly got to do while in the UK:

--Take a train from London to Nottingham. When I was asked to train the Hellfire Harlots, I didn't really think about it. Former London Rollergirl el Visious brought it up, I quickly said yes without thought as to the whats and wheres of Nottingham, or even looking up the Harlots on the web, and away we went. I got to figure out how to get myself from my hotel to the correct train station, buy the right ticket at the right time(failed to do that as well as I could've, actually), and get on a train for a quick hour-and-a-half ride north.

--At one of the stops along the way, I got to see my first closeup view of a nuclear power plant!

I don't know how many nuclear power plants are still operating in the US. I only know of one in California. So to see one CLOSE UP RIGHT OUTSIDE THE TRAIN WINDOW was kinda cool...and a little scary since us 'Mericans are freaked out about nuclear power.

--A cool old train station. The station in Nottingham is small, full of pigeons, and cold. BUT, it was built a long time ago, so it's automatically neato in my book. While I was waiting for el to pick me up( I ended up being an hour early, and unfortunately couldn't get the little laptop computer with me to work to let el know that I was sitting at the station), I sat and watched a constant stream of interesting-looking people wander through. And the pigeons inside? Those little feathered bastards knew how to forage for themselves very efficiently. I'm sure they would've pecked my shoes to bits if I'd gotten in their way of the fallen croissant bits that were their main dietary source.

--I got to be a passenger in a car on the freeway. You wouldn't think this would be exciting, but it was kinda cool. Remember, I'm easily amused.

--I got to stay in a British home. Namely this one:

Tara and Neil were foolis--uh, nice enough to let me stay with them. I don't know if they knew what they were getting into when they agreed to this plan. Funny thing: they had the roller derby art book that I'm in, and apparently were looking through it prior to my visit and found my artwork. Ohhhhhhh! they said in realization of what they were signed up for. And figured out it was too late to fake their deaths or something. MWAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA. They treated me very well, and even made me breakfast! NOM NOM NOM. I would totally stay at their house again if I found myself in the area!

--Bearing witness to the Castle vs. Stately Home debate. Nottingham is where Robin Hood was from. I didn't realize this when I first agreed to go up there. I know, I know...DERP. So when I was being shuttled about to and fro, el said to Tara and Neil, We have to show Tara Armov Nottingham Castle! to which Neil replied, It's not a castle, it's a Stately Home. el said, It looks like a Castle. Neil replied, It's still a Stately Home. And much discussion ensued as to whether Nottingham Castle is actually a castle or a stately home. And yes, the way Neil said it, Stately Home is capitalized.

So here we have the front of Nottingham Castle. It certainly looks like a castle from this angle:

Buuuuuuuut, what's that behind the facade in this shot? Looks like a Stately Home. Hmmmmmmmm.

Either way, I got my photo taken in front of the Robin Hood statue:

--As an added bonus, I got to see a real honest-to-goodness Tudor house. Yeah, a REAL Tudor house!

Conveniently located right across the street from Nottingham Castle/Stately Home.

This side adventure was great! I got to see things I never would've seen, meet people I wouldn't have met otherwise, and had a damn good breakfast to boot. AND I GOT TO SEE A CASTL--ERRR, STATELY HOME. Or something.

Fighting

2011-02-24T07:27:00.000-08:00

I'm fighting a cold/flu thingy right now. Everyone I know has been sick the past three weeks, and I've been dodging sick bullets the whole time.

Last night I bought raw garlic and ate ten cloves with some olive oil and bread. My stomach is paying for it this morning and I COMPLETELY reek of garlic, but I don't feel any worse sick-wise. So that's a good thing, I guess?

In between noshing on garlic, swabbing my nose with zinc, and slugging down enough vitamin C-enriched juice to keep the Florida orange industry in the black, I adapted my flier design for LA's March RADness training camp into a shirt:

Hopefully it'll turn out well and the happy campers will be happy.

UK Derby

2011-02-22T21:30:00.000-08:00

And now, back to adventures in Europe...

UK derby. How different is it from US derby?

The rules are the same. The floors they seem to generally skate on is a typical wood-covered-with-polyurethane found in many a gym and recreational center that feels thick but not slippery. The terminology? A little different, but probably not any more different than what one finds in the US. The skaters mainly dress the same. The refs are pretty much the same; they're made up of fans and spouses/bf's/others of the skaters.

It's the volume, people.

I mentioned that before, I know. But it's the glaring difference between the US and UK in terms of derby.

Both in London and Nottingham I was by far the loudest skater there. Some would say, Well NO DUH, Armov. But really? I'm kinda surprised. I guess I was influenced by stories of soccer hooliganism and thought that maybe some of the superfan behaviors that would happen during soccer matches would also happen to a much less-violent-but-still-vocal extent.

When I went up to Nottingham, I got to see a men's derby match. Which of course was fun. But I started my usual pattern of heckling quickly when one of the teams obviously had less going on in the strategy area than the other. I find a lack of strategy BORRRRRRRRING. And I said so. Repeatedly.

What I didn't expect was the reaction. Of course this is the UK, so no one said anything to me as I continued to "coach" from the sidelines(I yelled repeatedly to the losing team: HEY! SEE THAT GUY WITH THE STAR ON HIS HELMET? HIT HIM! ONLY HIM! NO ONE ELSE MATTERS! They didn't take my advice), but I could feel the stares and wonderment at my continued minor-league assholiness.

One group of visiting skaters started semi-organized cheers. In response to me? Doubt it. But I'd like to think that I had some sort of influence on them. Even if it was bad.

When I scrimmaged with both London and Nottingham, no one in the pack said anything during jams, either. That was WEIRD. I talked. A lot. Saying where the jammers were, telling my pack to speed up, slow down, inside, outside, etc. What method of communication do these skaters use if they don't talk?! I don't mean to be an asshole with that question, I'm honestly puzzled, because I didn't see anyone use hand signals or anything.

MAYBE THEY'RE ALL PSYCHIC. Which will make the upcoming Derby World Cup very interesting for the US team!

Another random observation: I noticed that the skaters didn't call each other by their skate names as consistently as US skaters do. I knew more government names than skate names in Nottingham!

Speaking of names, I enjoyed the way my derby name was pronounced. Here in the US, "Tara" is pronounced "TAIR-uh". Hence the pun of my skate name. But in the UK it was pronounced "TAR-uh". Which loses something in the translation, though I have to admit hearing anything said in a non-US accent is pretty damned cool for me.

All of these photos were taken of Nottingham skaters the night before I trained them for three hours. They took me out to a pub that had THE BEST GODDAM BURGERS I've had in a long time. And then they bought me cider and I drew on them. I wonder if they would've been so nice if I had done the training and yelling first?!

Uhm, they would have.

Pssst...

2011-02-18T07:00:00.000-08:00

My team, Fight Crew, will be flying to Phoenix, AZ tonight to skate against the Arizona Derby Dames' all-star team tomorrow.

Who's excited about this?

I AM!

And here's an interesting photoshopped image of me eating AZDD for breakfast:

An Afternoon with Vic and Al

2011-02-15T21:29:00.000-08:00

I must get back to London before the free museums aren't free anymore.

With all the walking I did, I passed very few museums. It's not necessarily for a lack of trying, it's just that I felt so pressured to see EVERYTHING that I didn't want to stop to look at even older stuff than the old stuff that I was already seeing just on the streets.

However, one afternoon I decided to check out Victoria Station. For some reason I thought it would've retained a very Victorian appearance, and I wanted to see that.

It didn't.

However, since I was in the area, I decided to get lost. And so I did. Very well.

More observations:

The big chain stores that are all over the place were Boots, Starbucks, Costas, Vodafone, the aforementioned Pret a Manger, Clarks, Marks and Spencer, H&M, and Tesco.

Everyone in Londontown is dressed better than the average Amurrikan dipshit. I think I commented on this before, but it's so striking to me that I'm gonna comment on it again. Interestingly, I didn't see a single pair of impractical stiletto heels on any woman during the day; if she wore heels, they were no more than an inch-and-a-half high and were reasonable to walk in. If you like that type of thing. Yet were still stylish and not athletic shoes.

I didn't hear what used to be called a Cockney accent. It's mutated over the years,but there's still a class distinction in slang and general speech patterns. Even I with my untrained ear could tell the difference between someone who probably grew up all fancy and someone who didn't.

The British fucking LOVE "take away" food. Us dipshit Amurrikans know it as "to go". But the British has EVERYTHING as Take Away. Especially sandwiches. Goddam, they love sandwiches. With flavorless mayo on them.

They don't have Proactiv available there, or else everyone loves being au natural. I saw more faces with acne than in junior high. Which you have to realize in the early 80's was chock-full of craters.

The bus stops were a lifesaver. Every other one would have a map of its location and what was within a five minute walk of that particular stop. It kept me from digging out my Very Obvious Tourist Maps out too often.

Free museums fucking ROCK.

I don't necessarily care for religious art. Maybe it's tied into my feelings about organized religion. The things that caught my interest the most at the Victoria and Albert museum were not the religious artifacts, but the everyday things...

Such as the mosaic floor:

OK, this looked cool. Beheadings are awesome.

They had an impressive display of clothing from the 17th and 18th centuries. Every day stuff. I LOVE THAT TYPE OF THING. Forget epic battles and Important People...I love hearing about the day-to-day lives of people. What did they wear? How often did they bathe? If they were near- or farsighted, what did they do? How did they fight colds? Did they have cancer back then? What did they call it if they did?

Here's some cool ironwork:

I also strolled through Harrod's department store.

Big fucking whoop.

The best part was where one could see the older architecture and moldings. I could easily detect some Art Deco going on in there. It was beautiful. The modern stuff was BORRRRRRRRINGGGGGGG.

I love how the Tube stations have their escalators marked so that if you want to just stand on them as they go, you stand to the right. If you want to climb/descend the escalator, the left side is open to the hurried folk. HOW I WISH WE HAD THAT HERE. But noooooooooooo, that would infringe on some self-centered fuckwad's definition of "freedom". Efficacy shouldn't be sacrificed for "freedom" in these minor cases.

During this first part of my stay in London, I didn't buy anything except food. No souvenirs. I was traumatized by the currency exchange rate. Not like it mattered for the chain stores; all the H&M's have the same crap in them, so I'm not missing anything by waiting to get back to the States to buy from there. Luckily(?) I didn't see anything that I had to have during this portion of my trip.

Ripped...

2011-02-12T12:40:00.000-08:00

...off.

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

With the ridiculous growth of derby, there has been a fair share of leagues swiping artwork from other leagues and various artists for their own purposes regarding league logos and such. I've seen quite a few examples of this, and it's especially prevalent in non-US leagues grabbing stuff from US leagues and trying to make it their own.

For the most part, my art has been left alone.

Until now.

Meet the Pearl River Roller Derby league in Louisiana:

What a cute girl! Gosh, where did they get that from?

Oh, right:

That Sure Grip girl I did several years ago!

To be honest, I'm not really angry about this, as Sure Grip owns this particular girl and they hired me to do the artwork. I've seen her on stickers, band aid packaging, and even on wheels! I should've negotiated a better rate for myself, but whatever.

But really, it's DUMB to think that one can take a drawing that's KNOWN and incorporate it rather blatantly into one's own league logo. They could've come to me directly and given me money to make them a logo. And it would've been better than what they currently have. Ah well.

I wonder if Sure Grip knows about this?

Second Day...

2011-02-11T00:29:00.000-08:00

First off, I just got called back to do some retake stuff on Bob's Burgers, so I'm going through my travel photos wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy slower than anticipated. Second of all, I like money, so the job will continue to take precedence!

Back to our adventure...

I decided that I would accompany my sister to work the morning of our second day in London. Which turned out to be a good idea since it gave me a starting point to learn the intricacies of the London Underground.

If you're staying in London for more than 24 hours, get a damn Oyster card. Also, be prepared to get disoriented direction-wise every time you come out of a different Tube station. My sister and I had no problems getting to the closest station, getting tickets, and getting on the right train. We exited the correct station at our destination, walked out onto the street and promptly got lost. This is what happens when one obeys the "Way Out" signs very, very literally. We had to stop at a Starbucks so that I could look at a map while my sister asked a cop for directions. After that, we were golden.

Oh, I love London's directness in some matters. In the US, we have "restrooms". In the UK and Europe they don't fuck around, they have toilets. Wherever you go, you can find a toilet. I, having a bladder the size of George W. Bush's brain, appreciated that. Another piece of handiness were the "Look Left/Look Right" signs painted onto the streets, so that dumbass tourists wouldn't get smooshed by speeding cars on the London streets. Those signs saved my butt several times throughout my visit.

When we got to my sister's work, I took a breather before going on my own way. One of my sister's colleagues suggested I take the Tube to Oxford Circus, then walk down Regent St. to Piccadilly Circus. Sounded like as good a plan as any to me, so off I went.

I could walk for days in London. I apparently really like looking at old stuff. I took the sage advice of one of LADD's newer skaters who lived in London for awhile and picked up a London A-Z street atlas while I was at Piccadilly. Then I went a-wanderin'.

Hey, I found Trafalgar Square!

Oooh, St. James Park.

The Horse Guard. Those guys stood out in the damn cold for what seemed like forever before anything happened. Then they did some ceremonial stuff and literally trotted off to Buckingham Palace.

A statue in the courtyard of the Horse Guard house/stable/whatever you call it.

I wandered through St. James Park, came out the other side and accidentally found Buckingham Palace.

See the guard? Back there, by that little guard house? That dude is BORED OUT OF HIS FUCKING MIND.

The amount of tourists constantly taking photos around the area was maddening...yes, I'm a hypocrite since I myself was obviously snapping away, but still.

So I wandered off and found...Westminster Abbey.

I balked at paying the 16pounds to go into Westminster Abbey. I later regretted my fake frugality, as I forgot that Westminster Abbey is chock full of famous dead people that are interned there. DAMMIT. Next time, London, NEXT TIIIIIIIIME.

I spent most of the day wandering around. My sister and I did more wandering closer to our hotel when she got home from work. Again, the dreaded British pub/Thai food combo threatened to make us extremely cranky...and hungry. We finally found an Italian restaurant with semi-decent pizza and delicious wine. On the way back we went to the local market and picked up some more delicious goodies:

Why yes, I am enjoying my vacation. Why do you ask?

First Day

2011-02-08T18:17:00.000-08:00

My sister and I left sunny and warm 80F degree LA weather and landed in cloudy, overcast, and occasionally drizzly 35F degree London weather.

That was just the beginning of a long line of adjusting!

Luckily for me, my sister has been to the UK before, and so as soon as we cleared airport security, we were on our way to Paddington Station via the Heathrow Express. Apparently the Heathrow Express is the easiest and comparitively cheapest way to get to and from central London and the airport. Works for me.

I'm so excited to be using workable public transportation, I take a photo of my luggage on the train:

We wind our way to Paddington, hail a cab, have a hilarious talk with the cab driver about Amsterdam and its coffee, and in what seems an endless round of driving in circles(I've never seen so many one way streets with roundabouts in my life!), we end up at our hotel, which is on the south side of the Thames, not too far from Big Ben and Parliament:

These photos weren't taken at the hotel, but from the riverwalk two blocks away from the hotel. I insisted on walking around as soon as we got in, as we had a few hours until bedtime anyway, and it was best to keep moving instead of giving in to jetlag too early in the evening.

Here's the London Eye, a ridiculous excuse for a ferris wheel. I wouldn't be persuaded on going up in that thing...my fear of heights wouldn't let me.

I thought the closet door in our room was funny, because it reminded me of Elizabeth Berkeley in Showgirls:

Unfortunately Google wouldn't cough up a clear photo of the outfit I'm talking about. This is the closest I was able to find:

Anyway, I forget what we did for food that night...I think we just got snacks and the aforementioned magical JD and ginger cola at a local shop. We quickly came to discover that the local pubs in the immediate area had a propensity for serving Thai food. Thai food?! The last thing I want to eat in a British pub is Thai food. That's even more gross than the Chinese food/donut shops I've seen in the San Fernando Valley!

The rest of the evening was spent figuring out wifi, and reading maps to figure out where my sister had to go to work the next morning, and where I was going to spend my first day exploring.

Just Started

2011-02-06T08:48:00.000-08:00

...going through my photos. I didn't take as many photos as I thought I did. Ah well.

Here is a photo of my fave beverage the early part of the trip:

Yes, that's a can of Jack Daniels and ginger cola. It's a product that makes me scream, WHY DON'T WE HAVE THIS IN THE US?!?!?!?!? because it's goddam delicious. And potent.

Have a listen to the podcast I guested in Nottingham. It was a quick and dirty interview: what you hear is pretty much the entire unedited session. I don't sound too stupid, but I tell you what, mornings are not my strong suit!

Back, back in Cali, Cali

2011-02-05T22:00:00.000-08:00

I just got back from my ten day excursion to the UK and Amsterdam.

Holy cow, what an experience! I spent most of the time overwhelmed and lost due to constantly cloudy skies. It's amazing how much I depend on the sun for my sense of direction!

Anyway, here are some quick observations before I start posting about my trip for realz:

Both London and Amsterdam were full of people who were very nice whenever I had a question that needed answering immediately. Nicer than what I've come to expect in LA. But then again, I don't talk to many strangers in LA.

I hardly saw any fat people. Even in LA, the land of plastic surgery and the brutal standards of the entertainment industry has more fat people than I saw in London and Amsterdam. Is that ratio different when one gets out of the metropolitan areas of London and Amsterdam? I'm sure it is, but still, because of all the walking people have to do to get around, they're thinner than people here. Food portions are smaller and more expensive, as well.

Speaking of food, I was intrigued with the Pret a Manger chain in London. When in doubt about food choices such as a British pub that contains a Thai menu, grab a sandwich at Pret.

Driving looks more frightening there than here. And that's saying something. Also, no SUV's. That was pretty cool!

It's apparently a local law that women in London don't wear pants, even in January. Leggings were the hip, happening thing. Not for me, but for everyone else.

Amsterdam coffee is really good.

UK roller girls are as polite on the track as they are off the track. Which means they're very, very polite. The leagues I visited were very nice, and put up with my yelling very well. I ended up training more than expected, but I still got to hit strangers, which is always fun!

I was easily the loudest person in all of Europe while I was there.

Searching for a decent salad was akin to searching for the Holy Grail. Well-nigh impossible most of the time.

Mexican food in Amsterdam isn't too terrible.

Staying at a hotel where Arab fancy people frequent is a surreal experience.

Walking constantly for almost ten days is kind of a workout, kind of not. But my feet are killing me. I didn't lose weight thanks to my eating an English breakfast on most days, which I don't do here in the US. English bacon is DELICIOUS, btw.

Wearing athletic shoes out and about when one is not actually working out is a sure sign that one is an American.

Not having a cell phone for ten days was a pain at times, but for the most part I adjusted. Not having reliable internet access was a different story!

The Jack the Ripper tour was pretty cool, though most of the actual locations have been updated with new high-rises and such, so it's difficult to imagine how it all looked "back in the (gruesome) day".

The branch of the Hermitage in Amsterdam needs more stuff. The Van Gogh museum gave me new appreciation for his drawings. Rembrandt's house gave me a HUGE appreciation for the art of etching.

Watching news that actually contained news as opposed to merely gossip stories about actors and celebutards was eye-opening. America is really full of spoiled whiny brats. The anti-intellectual bend the US has taken is horrifying in light of how other countries cover the news.

Both London and Amsterdam were way more environmentally conscious about energy usage and recycling than the US. We have a long way to go, baby.

I wish I lived in a city with reasonable public transportation. I get that cities such as London, Amsterdam, and New York are compact compared to LA. But DAMN, it'd sure be nice to have an alternative to driving every once in awhile.

LAX is the most ghetto airport I've been to. Really, LA? Get your shit together, people are looking at you.

The exchange rate between the US and the UK was brutal on my pocketbook. Thank goodness the Euro was much kinder to my budget.

I hope that I can go back, especially to do some derby training. If there's a way to offset the airfare, I'd totally do a derby training tour!

Missing the Obvious?

2011-01-23T13:06:00.000-08:00

The other day I was reading on the internetz and found an article about why Captain America is being resurrected while Wonder Woman languishes in Comic Purgatory. Now, I'm not really a big comic book fan, but c'mon, Wonder Woman should have more going on for her story-wise.

Anyway, as I scrolled through the article, I was fixated by this early story panel:

WILL YOU LOOK AT THE GAMS ON WW IN THAT LAST PANEL?!?!?! THAT'S SOME ROLLER DERBY PHYSIQUE GOING ON RIGHT THURRR!!!!!!

What springs to mind when I saw those legs? These legs on Windy City's Jackie Daniels:

Now, everyone and their dog has made the comparison between roller derby skaters and superheros. So the obvious next step is...WHERE'S THE WONDER WOMAN-THEMED ROLLER DERBY TEAM?!

Not a permanent team, as Wonder Woman is owned by DC Comics, and they're not in the roller derby business. But I'd think for a pick-up team or Rollercon Challenge, this would be so obvious as a team theme. Even some comic dude has figured it out. I mean, there's challenge teams for everything...Star Wars vs. Star Trek, iPhone vs. Droid, Amazons vs. Short Bus, old vs. young, drunkards vs. stoners, gay vs. straight, yet there's no actual superhero-themed games with the prototype of roller derby hero featured therein?

I'm shocked.

SHOCKED, I tell you.

I think it'd be amazing to have Wonder Woman vs Bat Girl. OR...Wonder Woman vs. Supergirl. Because they have the same colors and it'd be hilariously confusing.

Get on it, people. Make the magic happen!

Bob's Burgers

2011-01-21T15:35:00.000-08:00

The show I was working on last year, Bob's Burgers, is now on FOX after the Simpsons on Sunday nights.

So far the reviews have been mixed. I personally think the show is odd and funny, and I hope it finds its audience. The ratings started out great, dipped a little last week, and it looks like the next two weeks may be make or break for the series. While I'm in London and Amsterdam I'll be hoping that everyone here watches the show! HELP KEEP ME EMPLOYED, PEOPLE!

Today the studio that did the animation had a burger truck on the premises and invited the entire crew for lunch. It was a beautiful warm day and it was great to see everyone again. Besides getting a tasty veggie burger, I also got a spiffy gift:

A very pretty ribbon around a very cool hoodie:

I hope to wear the hell out of it!

In other news, Blue the diarrhea-filled cat is still filled with diarrhea. Poor little Irritable Bowel Syndromed guy. After several different tries at medication, it looks like we may have to take the little fucker in for surgery when I get back from London. Sigh. He's lucky he's cute.

Blue's favorite spot to sleep on is a paper bag on the couch. The other cat, Lou C, will sometimes bully Blue off of the bag, which causes minor but loud tiffs. So I put a second bag next to the first one, and now everyone is happy:

OH! Non sequitir: I get to do the artwork for this year's Battle on the Bank tournament! EEEEEEEEEEE! I'm gonna be busy when I get back from London!

Left on the Derby Bucket List

2011-01-19T09:25:00.000-08:00

Yesterday the amazing derby announcer from Denver had a birthday and I heard it. Yes, Dumptruck is in town.

There was a gathering at one of the downtown bars for him, and it was ridiculous. Ridiculously fun. Of course. In the course of the evening, I ended up talking with one of the Enforcers, Burns. We were talking about vacations to Amsterdam, Heineken, London, walking around everywhere, looking at really old buildings, and how long we think we can roll with the massive changes that is roller derby and the Derby Dolls in particular.

Once you get two participants in derby talking together, of course the conversation takes off like a rocket. And in the course of this particular conversation, derby goals were brought up. Burns will make his goals for this season, I'm sure. Me? I have one goal that I would like to hit before I retire, and I don't know if I'll be able to do it. What is it? So simple...

I want to skate in a real game as a substitute skater.

Years ago, the Derby Dolls allowed team skaters to skate on other teams if they were running short of skateable team members. There were a bunch of skaters who got to do just that...a Tough Cookie skating as Tru$t Fund Terror, a Siren skating as Fight Crew, etc. I never got the chance to do that. The one time I was scheduled to skate with Tru$t Fund Terrors, I hurt my shoulder and ended up being their team manager for the game instead.

The thing about skating as a sub with a team is that I feel for myself, I can concentrate on just skating, and not worry about team standings, point margins, what the team's fans think, even whether the team wins or not...stuff like that. I can just concentrate on hitting the hell out of other skaters.

It's kind of a dumb goal, but hey, that's totally keeping in my character, don't you think?

No Good

2011-01-17T12:21:00.000-08:00

I remember back when I started derby a million years ago, the coach would tell us that we wouldn't be playing long enough to benefit financially from it. What he didn't tell us was that this applies to other aspects of DIY derby as well.

It's still disappointing that I didn't make the Ri-Ettes this year. The sting wouldn't be bad if the Aftershockers still existed, but they don't. I'm not considered to be anything useful to the team in any capacity this season. Didn't get anything resembling a "thanks" for the bullshit I went through last season for the team, and am not considered good enough for jobs including team managing and such. I'm not the only now-former Ri-Ette who feels tossed aside; another veteran skater actually quit skating on any team after she didn't make the roster. There were a couple of other aspects going on that may have contributed, but the final straw was tryouts.

OK, fine. I take a deep breath, get up, dust myself off, and keep going. Don't focus on the negative, try to stay positive.

But then...

Before the holidays Training Team asked for candidates to train at the upcoming March RADness camp. So I applied as I had a fun time training last year, especially the How To Do Fun Stuff On the Banked Track class. Today I find out I'm not even considered good enough for that. Really?! REALLY?!?!?! I'm not qualified to teach skaters how to flip over the fucking rail or how to do Tarametrics!??!?!?! That fucking pisses me off.

I know time marches on. I know that things change. But I'm not completely fucking useless, either. I feel that I'm now seen as worthless within my own fucking league, and I empathize with the skater who just quit, because I imagine she felt the same way. Why bother?! I feel like I'm working so hard and am losing ground, as well as what little respect I may have had in the past.

Or did I? Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I'm the Rodney Dangerfield of the league. It would sure as shit explain a lot lately. It's not as if I'm expecting a parade, or rose petals thrown at my feet every time I grace the track with my presence. But damn, I certainly feel that I'm on the receiving end of Familiarity Breeds Contempt.

So far I'm unimpressed with 2011. Especially in regards to derby. I may have reached my breaking point...or my derby break-up point. I hope the trip to London and Amsterdam I'm taking next week will revitalize me overall...I fucking need it.

sigh

2011-01-12T09:13:00.000-08:00

I finally went to the doctor about my dizziness.

First, anyone who is against "socialized medicine" in the USA can't possibly be satisfied with the current privatized situation...unless they're employed by a health insurance company. The DH and I have craptacular insurance of a sort from his last job, and right now we're paying out the ass on COBRA.

The doctor listed on our medical cards, whom we'd never seen before since we had to switch doctors when we got our current "insurance"? He doesn't take our insurance. Wha..?! Yeah. So after a round robin of phone calls, cussing, stomping around the house while on hold, and trying to find a backup in the form of an urgent care center online in case we continue to sit on hold with the damn insurance company, we find another doctor for me to go see.

Getting to the doctor's office was an adventure when it shouldn't have been. I didn't drive because, well, I valued my dizzy little life and those around me. The street numbering in the area we went to wasn't very clear; it looked like the address we were looking for were on both sides of the street at first. Is this what happens when you get old...you get confused by street numbering? If so, this sucks WAY more than getting wrinkles. WAYYYYYYYYY more.

After filling out the paperwork at the doctor's office and trying to explain to the receptionist that just because there's a different doctor's name on the medical card didn't mean that the doctor would take me as a patient. That was eventually sorted out, and I sat miserable, dizzy and suffering from motion sickness for another fifteen minutes.

Then I was taken back to an exam room and sat for another fifteen minutes. With no reading material. BORRRRRRRRINGGGGGGGGG. Finally, the doctor got around to seeing my sick self.

The doctor himself was very nice, and after asking me some basic questions, he had me doing a few silly coordination exercises. He finally gets to the nitty-gritty by looking at my ears, and pronounces that one of my ears is congested, and is most likely the cause of my dizziness.

The good: he prescribes some anti-vertigo medication and Sudafed, and says to come back in a week if those don't work.

The bad: I wish I had done this last week when this first happened so that I could've skated better for Ri-Ettes tryouts last Saturday.

The hilarious: of course roller derby came up along the line in our conversation(a blow to the head could've caused this, perhaps?), and it turns out that the doctor is very interested in coming to see the Derby Dolls. He even watched derby as a kid growing up in the Philippines. I started laughing like an idiot. He was perplexed by this. I tried to explain how derby has pretty much infected ALL of my life; it's now impossible to have a conversation without it being brought up. He didn't really understand, but he says he might bring his wife to one of our games. So funny!

The realization: I had a team practice with Fight Crew last night. At first I wasn't sure if I should go, but I decided that I must. About halfway through, I realized that I'm still really mentally burnt out from last season's Ri-Ettes activities. I may not agree with how I wasn't chosen for this year's roster, but I do agree that it's probably for the best at this point that I don't have to worry about making the ten million extra practices needed for the team to be in some sort of functioning order for their first game of the season in less than two weeks.

What I'll miss more than anything is the chance to skate more interleague games. Especially with no Aftershockers option this season. But I'll have to find a way to deal with that, and make sure that this "extra" time I now have is used somewhat productively. As soon as my ear settles down, I'll be able to focus more betterer on making stuff happen for ME this year.

The Wind Out of My Sails

2011-01-08T20:46:00.000-08:00

Today was the 2011 Ri-Ettes tryouts. I tried out.

And failed to make the roster.

Yeah, really.

To say I'm disappointed doesn't cover it. But I'm more frustrated than anything, mainly with myself and how I handled myself today. Because I think overall I defeated myself.

How?

Well, first off, I feel like crap. As in, I've been constantly dizzy for the past 36 hours. This has been a very recent thing, as it happened over the weekend too, but that time involved heavy drinking, so I figured I was experiencing severe dehydration. After a couple days of recovery where everything went back to normal, I had one glass of wine Thursday night. Friday morning I found myself waking up to the same dizziness I had over the weekend, and it's still with me despite me drinking an insane amount of water and generally trying to take it easy.

Ever try skating when you can barely stand upright? I don't suggest it. Don't try skating in a circle when dizzy, either. Another thing to not do? Skate in a circle on a banked track while dizzy. Last but not least, don't skate in a circle on a banked track while other people are constantly trying to hit you while dizzy. I especially don't suggest it when travel team tryouts are happening.

The problem for me came to whether to say anything to the judges panel about this before tryouts. On one hand, it may have been good for them to know that if I played like shit, there's a reason why. On the other hand, it may have come across as an excuse, and the judges' reaction may have been, I don't want to hear excuses, I want to see you play derby.

I went with the Suck It Up attitude, and now I'm screwed. The ironic thing is, the Suck It Up attitude is one that I played a part in instilling over the years through training the league and various tryouts for stuff, mainly Subpool. Look where that got me!

So that's how I defeated myself, and that's how the 2010 Ri-Ettes team captain is now not even on the roster for the 2011 Ri-Ettes.

Maybe I'll write a letter to the captains explaining my situation anyway to see what happens. Maybe they'd reconsider. Maybe I'd be considered for the team in June when there should allegedly be a reevaluation of the team. Maybe this is the universe's way of telling me I have to focus on other things besides the travel team. Maybe I could drive myself insane with the "maybes".

After the mental stress of the day job, the ankle injury in October, the not skating outside enough during hiatus and now this, the wind is definitely being taken out of my derby sails.

Rededication

2011-01-01T09:41:00.000-08:00

One of the major manifestations of taking on derby for many skaters is getting painful blisters that harden into callouses on the feet. When the blisters start happening, so does the talk about how to deal with them. When the callouses form, one learns that, a)they will have ugly feet for as long as they do derby, and b)those callouses mean the skater is working hard enough for her body to react and try to protect itself.

I have the same routine for the past seven years for my feet when skating, and I discovered this setup after a few months of painful trial and error. I put sports tape around my big toes on both feet. I wear Bunga Pads on both feet. Then there's the ankle sleeves. I have to lace up my boots so that they're loose around the middle of the foot but tight around the ankles. This results in my callouses being a little smaller, but I'm able to skate in relative comfort.

This year I noticed something interesting while training Fresh Meat. Since training isn't as physically demanding as actually playing, I wouldn't use the bunga pads when I put on my skates and demonstrated skills or whatnot while teaching. Hmmmmm. I thought to myself, Maybe my feet have gotten to the point where I don't need the bunga pads anymore? Wow, wouldn't that be great?! Yes, yes it would. So I experimented during regular practice and found that yes, I didn't need the bunga pads anymore. Cool!

Then I hurt my ankle and didn't skate for seven weeks. I still managed to exercise, but the callouses on my feet shrank down even more. When I came back to skate, I found that I still didn't need the bunga pads. Wow! My feet had finally toughened up to the point where I don't need artificial padding?! Great! I skated the Red Bull Chicago game and all practices leading up to that game with no padding on my feet. Hiatus started. Rain happened. Less skating.

Old Derby Dolls photo of when I was getting the general hang of dealing with blisters and callouses:

Then earlier this past week I went for a beach skate. My usual route is around 20 miles roundtrip covering many crazy excuses that LA city and county claims are sidewalks, bike lanes, and streets along the way. I generally don't stop the entire time unless a stoplight or really good batch of stuff comes in to the American Apparel outlet on Venice Beach indicates otherwise.

That's when the pain started. The old spots on my feet that used to be covered by the bunga pads started itching, then aching, then sharper pains became evident. I slowly skated home and found new blisters on what were the old callouses, which had shrunk down to nothing but a layer of slightly tougher skin than the surrounding area. I then realized something.

I wasn't getting better, I was getting softer.

UGH. I was horrified and disgusted with myself. But it also was a slap in the face that I needed, because I realized how this came to be.

The much-needed day job cut my workout time in half, easily. I couldn't go on beach skates most days because I was working and the weekends were crammed with other stuff such as running to the bank to deposit my paycheck. League practices have gotten more crowded with skaters, but not more intense due to overcrowding. We were learning shit-tons about strategy, but we weren't keeping up with endurance. Overall most team skaters in the league have had their actual skate time cut down this year due to the crazy scheduling we have. No wonder I gained ten pounds over the course of the fall! Well, that and I ate like a fat kid.

Now I realize that to fully realize my mantra of, Just one more year, just one more year... I have to get my callouses and endurance back, lose some goddam weight and stop watching Man vs. Food. Yes, I have to stop watching that show because I'm easily suggestable, and looking at all that bad-for-you food makes me want to eat said bad-for-you food. Hence the ten goddam pounds I gotta get rid of.

This sounds like a New Year's resolution! you may be thinking to yourself. Not really. It's one of the many things that must be done for myself, it just happens that the timing for it happened at the end of a calendar year. Don't call it a resolution, call it a rededication to the possibilities I should still have for myself.

Oh, hey, some footage from the aforementioned Red Bull game:

Merry Merry

2010-12-26T20:49:00.000-08:00

To be honest, I had a perfectly great Xmess day. Got to go up to Woodland to visit the parental units with the DH and Leetle Seestir, hang out, eat a ridiculous amount of food, walk in the rain, eat some more, cruise around Woodland to see if every single Starbucks was closed (they were), eat yet more, and hang out with my new favorite cat.

Sidebar on the cat:

First, my mom has...four cats...I think. Maybe three. There's definitely no shortage of cats around the house. They're all calico cats, as that's my mom's favorite type of cat. She gets them from various rescue groups in the area. The most charismatic one of the bunch is a tiny six-pound ball of fuzz named Kacy. She's not a young cat, and apparently she was part of a hoarder's dream/nightmare; she was stuffed in a house with about 35-40 other cats when she was rescued a few years ago. When my mom adopted her, it was discovered that Kacy's teeth were rotted through, so they had to be removed. You'd think this would have made for a cranky cat. But no. She's the sweetest little creature who really, really likes to cuddle. As an added bonus, when she purrs, she drools due to her lack of teeth.

Whenever my sister and/or I come to visit, Kacy slowly saunters to us when we're sitting on the living room couch and stares at us until we pick her up and deposit her on our lap or chest. She then proceeds to purr up a storm, drool prolifically, and settle in for a nice long visit. Yesterday my sister and I would tag team cuddling with Kacy; whenever my sister had to get up to do something, she'd plop Kacy on me. I'd do the same in return when needed. This fazed Kacy not at all. And so she gets a year's worth of attention in the space of a few hours.

ANYWAY, after a lovely family visit, we skedaddle to the airport for our flight home. Note: it's raining. Our flight on a plane that's one step above a peesa-crap puddle-jumper prop plane is delayed by about 45 minutes. Not too shabby considering the weather. The plane finally shows up, we board as fast as we can, and after a few hitches and glitches, we're finally on our way.

And that's when I realize I'm in hell.

I've mentioned before that I fucking HATE gum-chewing. Yes, the DH constantly chews gum. Yes, it drives me apeshit. Yes, I've had to leave the room when he's aggressively chewing his goddam gum so that I resist the urge to slap the gum out of his mouth. I believe I inherited this hatred of gum-chewing noise from my mom, who ABSOLUTELY FORBADE me from chewing gum as a kid. I didn't understand back then. I do now.

Across the immensely small aisle of the immensely small plane was a couple who were subconsciously BEGGING for me to bitchslap them. The girl was a typical skinny, flat-ironed, fake tan, Uggs-wearing idiot who was enamored with herself and her boyfriend while laughing CONSTANTLY. The boyfriend was wearing ridiculous huge cubic zirconia earrings and chewing an insane wad of gum that would've made Violet Beauregard insanely jealous. Open-mouthed, cow-cud-chewin', gum-and-lip smackin', gum poppin', totally fucking OBLIVIOUS TO HOW MUCH OF AN ANNOYING ASSHOLE HE WAS BEING DOOSHBAGUE. I had to listen to these two mental midgets with their inane stupidity while the plane was taxiing for takeoff. Which took FOREVER.

THANKS, RAIN.

Oh, and as an added bonus, the plane was a sweatbox. Air flow? Nah, that would distract me from having to listen to the incessant idiocy across the aisle from me. FUCK.

When we finally were up in the air and cleared for electronic devices, I couldn't get my mp3 player out and running fast enough.

After a turbulent flight, we finally were coming in for a landing at LAX. As soon as I had to turn the mp3 player off, the never-ending cow-cud impersonator was high on my radar again. With his dipshit girlfriend. Holy FUCK, why doesn't his jaw get tired?!?!?! Here is a very badly drawn visualization of my nightmare:

As soon as the plane landed and we were allowed our electronic devices, I had to vent on twitter to keep me from slapping him. No, really, I was going to slap him. It didn't help when we had to taxi across all of LAX for about ten minutes and then wait outside our gate for another ten minutes while the plane that was already at our gate took its sweet time leaving. And all the while I was sweating profusely due to the lack of air circulation.

When we finally got off that tincan of a transportation device, I ranted for a good 15 minutes as we walked out of the terminal. So I turned into as much of an asshole as the gum-chewing asshole.

But at least I had the good grace to do so in an open area where everyone could avoid me if needed!

I have never been so happy to be off a plane in my life!

Oh, and I was able to make another appearance on Derby Deeds for this week. Squeeeeeeee! Those guys are super-fun to talk to and I was glad to be able to step in at the last minute!

Hibernating

2010-12-22T12:24:00.000-08:00

After doing a bunch of running around for the past couple of weeks, my life has slowed down. And now I'm sick. WTF?!?!?!?!?

I've tried to sleep off the ick, but after two days of hibernating I've come to the conclusion that I gotta man up and just deal with life despite the sick. At least I'm not working. So pardon any spaciness you may encounter with this blog entry.

Cat update:

Remember our outdoor visitors, Kitty and Blue?

Kitty has disappeared. One day he was around, the next he was gone. He's been gone for about two months now, and it makes the DH and I very, VERY sad. Kitty was willing to come into the house more; he had gotten skinnier than we were used to. He still ate, but it was obvious that he wasn't the same as he was in years past. I hope that someone took him in...I'd hate to think about any other conclusion.

And then there's Blue. He of the eternal diarrhea and hyperness. He stuck around, ate like a fiend, and teased our cat LouC by frolicking outside. When the weather got cold, he insisted on coming into the house. Which makes sense, as where else was he going to go to? He didn't have Kitty to cuddle with in the outdoor catbed anymore.

When Blue came into the house, we found out that not only does he have constant diarrhea, but he didn't know how to use a cat box. Oh, and he vomits a lot. Needless to say, his adjusting to being an exclusive indoor cat has been quite the learning--and cleaning-- experience.

So off to the vet he goes. After two different antibiotics and a shitload of testing...literally(nothing like carrying around stool samples of a diarrhea-filled cat when running errands), the vet figured out Blue has some kind of Irritable Bowel Syndrome that may or may not require medication for the rest of his furry life. We're still figuring out the medication thing for the poor little dude...at least it's not too terrible to give him the medication. Lardo and Max were HORRIBLE with trying to pop pills down their little gullets; Blue is surprisingly docile about it.

I know that Blue is beginning to feel better since he's started to sit with me on the futon couch in the den while I'm watching TCM. LouC will get jealous and will sit on me, so I've become covered in cats. At least I'm warm. Blue's favorite sleeping spot is a paper bag lying on the couch, though. It's so cute...I'd post a photo of said cuteness, but we lost our camera in Chicago back in November. Oops.

Anyway, I gotta go do last-minute crap for Xmess. If you haven't finished all of your shopping yet, may I remind you of the rad crap I have available through Wicked Skatewear:

Better Red Than Dead

You Can't Hit This

Girls Who Skate Derby Are Filled With Fury

SOOPERLACE

Hit Her Out!

BORRRRRRRINGGGGGGGGGG

Legendarily Notorious

2010-12-17T09:40:00.000-08:00

At some point last year, the Derby Dolls decided to set up a category of long-time skaters who have been with the league for at least five years called, "Legends". What's the advantage of being a Legend within the Dolls? So far, a still-skating Legend doesn't have to work the games (unless she's skating in said game, of course), and retired Legends get to come to any Dolls-hosted event for free. There's also talk of hanging all the Legends jerseys up in the flat track area.

On the surface, that doesn't sound like a lot to get out of it, but when you think about it, five years in a new sport is a LONG time. So many experiences and memories.

LADD's very own Vince (responsible for our RaD Dept. who does our amazing game intros, video, lighting, sound, etc.) decided to throw together the first L.A. Derby Dolls Legends Induction ceremony within a week's timeframe. Ridiculous. Email invites went out, requests for old fliers and photos quickly followed, and next thing I knew Ceremony Day was upon us.

Apparently I was scheduled to give a speech. Which I didn't know I was going to do until day of. I was told I didn't have to do it, buuuuuut, by the way, I'm last on the list.

That's a gauntlet being thrown at my feet, people.

I still hemmed and hawed as to whether I'd actually give a speech. I spent the day running errands and so I didn't have time to sit and ponder it. Then, finally, at 7pm I sat and scribbled something out just before hitting the nasty LA traffic to go to the ceremony. I still didn't know whether I'd give the speech until other Legends started giving their speeches. There were quite a few memorable moments brought up with quite a few laughs. After 31 other Legends were acknowledged, I, as number 32 got up, mumbled for a few seconds and said something along the lines of this:

Back in January 2004, I believed certain things about myself and my place in the world. I thought I was:

too old
too fat
too awkward
too shy
too ugly
too loud
too goofy
too geeky
too stubborn
too strict
not pretty enough
not artistic enough
not jock enough
not smart enough
not clever enough
not savvy enough
not diplomatic enough
and not funny enough for my little corner of the world.

Then I found the Derby Dolls.

And my world totally changed.

Well, it's not like the list I just rattled off stopped being true, because I know that everyone here would agree with something on that list.

BUT, I found a group of misfits and crazy people who made me feel I have a place and something positive to work towards, and I hadn't had that in a LONG time.

So, THANK YOU Derby Dolls, for allowing another freak onto your island of misfit toys. And especially to Demolicious and Thora Zeen--what you started has been AMAZING, and has made a difference to so many women. What we're doing is crazy, but as I keep saying, we're too dumb to know that this can't work. So keep working it, everyone!

Thanks!

I apparently made people cry with this quickly scribbled out missive. Without resorting to making them come to my Fresh Meat practices. I surprised everyone, including myself. Which is OK, because that's what derby has been...a long line of surprises.

Hi, Atus!

2010-12-14T21:02:00.000-08:00

Chicago. It's a helluva town. A great place for roller derby, I tell yew whut.

The Red Bull-sponsored game against Windy City was fun. Really fun. And the Ri-Ettes won. By a comfortable margin. 118-81. I'm proud of the team for that. I'm also proud of myself, I must admit. I tried to not be an egotistical dick about being the captain of the travel team this year, but you know what? I'm feeling pretty damned prideful about this. So there.

Co-captain LEGacy really helped make this happen, too. When push came to shove(and when doesn't it in derby?) she stepped up and took on whatever came our way full-force. I now feel she totally has my back, and that's a good feeling to have for this loner.

And the team? We came together and worked as a team in the best way possible. The difference in us from the beginning of the year to this game is profound. And it's great. Next year's Ri-Ettes will be a very different beast...I'm glad I got to be part of this year's roster.

Other highlights of the weekend include:

Taking part in the most outrageous game of Hangman ever. Have you ever played Sexually Explicit Hangman? I was surprised that it's a good way to spend an hour before a derby game. And I learned a few (icky) things, too.

Finding out the coat I bought for both Chicago and my upcoming trip to London and Amsterdam in January works really well in cold weather when it's layered with...just about anything. My general non-skating attire included silk longjohns, a t-shirt and pants, a hoodie, the jacket, gloves and sometimes a hat. I was toasty warm when wandering around in the 19F degree cold and snow.

Windy City skaters hit hard. Really hard. But they're nice off the track. Really nice. And fun. Really fun.

Vinyl decals on banked tracks are no fun due to a lack of traction. I landed on my face after trying to use my toestops to get back up on the track and stepping--no, slipping back off because of the decals. UGH.

Afterparties at lame doosh-filled bars can still be fun when you throw enough derby skaters into the mix.

The Hard Rock Hotel is kinda cool, though it's unnerving to have a huge photo of Led Zeppelin's Robert Plant watching me sleep, and it's REALLY creepy to have Thin White Duke-era David Bowie watching me use the toilet. Yoiks!

The dudes from the band Less Than Jake came across like typical rockers-who-get-laid-too-easily dooshes. I didn't like their music to begin with, but to listen to them "compliment" us by saying, "I'd bone every last one of you" made me want to kick them in the crotch with steel-toed boots.

Luckily the Red Bull crew were infinitely more professional.

Snowfights are fun until one gets hit in the face even after saying, NOT IN THE FACE! NOT IN THE FACE! And bee-tee-dubs? You can't throw a snowball at my head and then say you were aiming for my butt. I WILL NOT BELIEVE THAT.

Missing flights home due to weather sucks. Luckily I had a long book to read and derby girls to snuggle with while we waited for the sideways snow to stop long enough for us to make our escape. We were delayed only by about 11 hours.

Making 118 calls to Derby Deeds in a 24-hour timeframe. I even wrote a song to the tune of Motley Crue's Home Sweet Home that I sang in the airport bathroom while waiting for the flight home. That's dedication, people. Or insanity. Whatever.

Surly cab drivers at LAX. Really, if you don't like what you're doing, why the hell are you a cab driver?! If you want a fucking tip, shut up and drive, honky.

And now for some photos:

I look like I'm prancing:

But in actuality I'm doing something useful:

This photo shows my first time on the track for the game during the second jam. WCR jammer Ying of Fire was trying to squeeze her way on the inside. I see her and go in for the hit. Funny thing is, I MISSED. However, my flying body forces her off the track. Which is good. What's bad is that my landing on the coping of the track hurts my back and hip. I somehow jacked up my right shoulder in the process as well. This was just the first in a long string of falls I took. I haven't been this sore after a game in years.

Waiting for the weather. LEGacy and I on the Hard Rock Hotel lobby couch with PITA in the background. A lovely way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

Life, the Universe, and Everything

2010-12-07T16:54:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I turned 42 years old.

Which doesn't feel very different from 41, especially with the nagging ankle injury. In the morning I'm limping around the house like an old decrepit woman until my ankle warms up and I can walk normally. Then I go do the usual shit that I do. Beach skating, bicycling, derby, whatever. I still can't really jog, though. And that actually bugs me since I like a slow, casual jog through the neighborhood.

Anyway, I see more lines on my face, and have more aches in my body, but I'm still hanging in there. I even had practice, which was GREAT. The Ri-Ettes were KILLING it, everyone was in a good mood, and I even got birthday pie! YAY! I was in a great mood, until...

I got pulled over for speeding on the way home.

DAMMIT.

That's what I get for driving as if I'm still skating!

Wow! Moar attention!

2010-12-04T13:34:00.000-08:00

I'm really excited about this interview.

I'm super-DUPER excited that it also got mentioned in the DNN weekly roll-up.

My Fave Monkey Girl

2010-11-30T19:33:00.000-08:00

Derby has introduced me to more friends than I ever imaged I'd have. Which is a bold statement, considering that before derby, I had a shit-ton of biker friends whom the Dear Husband and I would visit whenever we went on a road trip. It's really an interesting and comforting feeling knowing that wherever one goes, one has a friend waiting to hear from them.

Anyway, back to derby friends. When I went to my first Derby Dolls practice almost seven years ago(holy crap), I was struck by some of the strong personalities that were there. Demolicious, one of the league founders, was her gregarious self. Emma Geddon, a true personification of a Viking, scared the crap out of me. Kasey Bomber talked to me because I was wearing a bar shirt from her hometown of Dallas. And then there was Bonnie D. Stroir.

She stood out not just because of her enthusiastic skating(which continues unabated) as well as the constant smile on her face, but her tattoos made me take notice of her. Why? Because she had a couple of girl centaurs from Disney's Fantasia tattooed on her right arm.

She came up to me and asked if I rode motorcycles(I was wearing my leather jacket at the time). I said yes, and her eyes lit up. She's ridiculously engaging and extremely likeable, and talking to her is always fun. We found out that our birthdays are only one day apart and we both were born in the Year of the Monkey(though twelve years apart) according to Chinese astrology. What's not to like?!?!?!

She lived in San Diego but skated in LA for quite awhile. She then made the decision to start the San Diego Derby Dolls when the commute got to her. Now, after years of running a league and skating and teaching and being an all-around badass, she's leaving San Diego and is moving to Humbolt. It makes me sad that I will see her even less than I do now, but knowing that after a sabbatical, she'll be back skating with the local league and not have the heavy responsibilities she had in San Diego makes me happy for her.

And she also started a blog, which you should read here if you like reading about cool derby stuff.

This is a typical photo of Bonnie smiling and me looking goofy at the Big One tournament two years ago.

Over Thanksgiving break I participated in the yearly Thankscrimmage that one of the local leagues holds. It started as a modest pick-up scrimmage in an outdoor park in Chino Hills with a potluck brunch. It's now an event that needs two tracks, team sign ups, a taco truck, and advance planning to contain all of the derby activity.

I got sucked into one of the challenge scrimmages. These are semi-organized, very similar to Rollercon challenge games, where you see tall vs. short, old vs. young, girls vs. boys, etc. All fun, all silly, and all vital to what makes modern derby the weird sport that it is, in my overly cranky opinion.

In this case, it was Les Foxes Francais vs. the US Rednecks. Guess which team I was on?! The French team. Yeah, I'm surprised, too. It all started at Suzy Snakeyes wedding over Labor Day weekend. I was busy eating and drinking(as one is wont to do at a wedding, and this wedding was a FUN one), and talking to Angel City skater Duchess von Damn. She's also one of my fave derby people for many reasons. She trains hard but keeps a sense of humor, and is one of the steel supports for her league. She mentions Thankscrimmage, and how funny it would be to have a French-themed team for it. Would I be interested? Well, DUH.

Because we had this conversation in the middle of a bottle of wine, I kinda forgot about it until a month ago when she emailed everyone who was to be on the team. Oh shit! I thought. I gotta go through with this! And go through with it I did, even though I wasn't very foxy:

In case you were wondering, yes, we drew moustaches on ourselves. We were the best dressed team there. AND we won. By two points. Against rednecks. YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

Speaking of winning, did I mention that Fight Crew won its last game of the season a few weeks ago? No? Yes? In case you didn't know, WE FUCKING WON THAT SHIT.

I wish I was able to skate that game, but the team did wonderfully without me. I did my bench coaching job well enough, I guess, so I wasn't completely useless.

Next week I go back to Chicago to skate with the Ri-Ettes against Windy City Rollers...ON THE BANKED TRACK. We're shipping out San Diego's track for this event. It's sponsored by Red Bull and I hope it goes splendidly. It'll be cold as fuck, but the skating and the derby girls and the experience will be amazing, I'm sure. Can't wait for it, and I can't wait for it to be over. If I ever say I'm considering captaining another team, please punch me in the face, mkay?

My hurt ankle and knee continues to bug me. I hobble around like an old lady when I've been sitting for a long while. Exercise helps, but I've overdone it over the weekend, and have aggravated the ligaments or something. I keep telling myself, One more year, one more year, one more year in regards to staying on a team. I hope I can stick with it through 2011.

It's Gettin' Real, Y'all...

2010-11-22T07:14:00.000-08:00

I haven't done any type of writeup on my trip to Chicago at the beginning of November for WFTDA Championships. Yes, I'm remiss. Yes, it would be impossible to describe the fun that was the weekend, including but certainly not limited to getting to draw on half of the winning team, the Rocky Mountain Rollergirls.

But here is a typical Tara placing for the weekend: doing textcasting for Derby News Network. Here I am with Roxy Horror from COMO Derby Dames (Columbia, MO) and Ivanna Clobber from Rat City Rollergirls(Seattle, WA). You can instantly see who is representing the various geographical locations from around the US in cold, chilly, 40 degree F Chicago. Roxy in the tank top is obviously the midwestern soul. Clobber in her light track jacket is PNW all the way. And then there's me: jacket, hoodie, hat and scarf being Very Californian.

photo by the amazing Axle Adams

Roxy and I have been friends on Facebook for awhile, but I had never met her before. A few weeks before Chicago, Roxy had made a status update comment about boxed wine. I commented on it, and we were joking about bringing boxed wine to Chicago for Champs. She then emailed me privately saying that she wanted to get a tattoo of one of my Sharpie tatts. A REAL tattoo.

Now, this has happened before...I've gotten several emails over the past few years from people who claim they're going to get a real tattoo of one of my drawings, with little to no follow-through. As far as I know, only one person has ever gotten a Tara Tatt done. So with light skepticism I replied to Roxy that of course we can meet in Chicago and I'll draw on her and then she'd take plenty of photos and get the tattoo done when she gets back home. Our negotiated terms included...a box of wine. I'm so easily bought.

I instantly liked her when I met her in person. We got along instantly as we textcasted, and found we had very similiar, very sick sense of humor. She said, I brought the wine! and I then figured out that she was SERIOUS about the tattoo.

So I drew this on her:

Not too shabby. It was the first Tara tatt I did in Chicago, and arguably the best I did all weekend. Which is a damned good thing, because last week Roxy followed through and got the tattoo done for realz. Check it out!

The 75 on her arm is her skate number. I think the artist who did the tattoo did an amazing job of following my drawing while making it work as a real tattoo. I'm excited that Roxy did this!

I've also been on the Derby Deeds Done Dirt Cheap podcast a couple of times in the past month or so. Megatron, Pitchit and Sheeza Brickhouse are the hosts and bring a well-rounded and intelligent voice to derby. You can listen to me babble on like a doofus in last week's episode here. One of the best aspects of the podcast is that new episodes usually come out on Fridays, just when the workday is draaaaaaagging by soooooooooo slooowwwwwwwwwwww. Perfect timing.

One Thing Before You Go...

2010-11-12T06:38:00.000-08:00

The sooper-funny and cool Ernessa over at Fierce N' Nerdy gave SooperLace a boost. Yay!!!! Unfortunately Chicago was too cold to show off SooperLace myself this past weekend. Boooo!!!!!

But that's what the internet is for! Go order one if you feel like having a fancy shirt!

GIGGITY!

2010-11-03T22:33:00.000-07:00

This weekend I'll be picking this up in Chicago:

SOOPERLACE!!!!!!!!

HOODIE

2010-11-02T18:30:00.000-07:00

On Facebook the other day, the proprietress of a skater-owned and operated clothing line dropped me an email about lending my name to a competition for their new sleeveless hoodie.

Tara Armov + sleeveless hoodie = brilliant marketing.

If you're on Facebook you can vote BY THURSDAY, NOV. 4. Go to the Pivotstar page and "like" it. Then go to their sleeveless hoodie competition, find my photo, and "like" that, as that counts as your vote.

DO IT DO IT DO IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Goodbye and Hello(again)...

2010-10-30T18:51:00.000-07:00

My fave logo that I've designed:

Unfortunately, the Aftershockers will be no more. The league has decided to make all our home teams "B teams" to skate against home teams from other leagues(flat or banked), or skate against the newer banked leagues that are beginning to pop up all over the place. It makes sense, overall.

But it still breaks my heart that the Aftershockers will go away. Especially since the logo is actually kinda cool.

The Aftershockers are dead! Long live the Aftershockers!

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT...

Remember this little gem?

Don't call it a comeback, they've been here for years...

No, wait, they weren't. League split, dramamama, silliness. But the phoenix is slowly rising out of the ashes, and Bakersfield Rollergirls is coming back. With the second-best logo I've ever done.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!

WE'VE GONE LIVE

2010-10-28T23:20:00.000-07:00

...in regards to new shirt designs, that is.

For those of you who are sick and tired of yelling "BORRRRRRINGGGGGGG" during a game, your shirt can say it for you:

Maybe ennui isn't your thing. Maybe you want to give coaching advice:

Last but not least, SOOPERLACE IS LIVE AND SHE'S AMAZING:

And there's still some Team Heckle slogans that haven't gone online yet. These three will have to do!

ZOMG NEW SCHERT

2010-10-20T19:41:00.000-07:00

So...remember my flier with SooperLace?

Well, now I'm making a shirt out of it.

See how I hope the shirts will look:

Every one who has seen the .jpgs have said, OOOOOOOOOOH, I LIKE THAT! so I hope that translates into shirt sales. Because I want to make a living with this crazy derby crap. So I'll have a little Fuck You money for when the animation biz ticks me off to no end.

Will update with link to buy when it's live...

It's True...

2010-10-14T23:11:00.000-07:00

If you thought the whole "gingers are soulless" theory was untrue, get a load of this:

Delightfully creepy.

An Open Letter to My Sportster

2010-10-14T07:21:00.000-07:00

Dear Sportster,

You have been neglected in the past, unneedlessly so. Yes, I realize "unneedlessly" is probably not a word. I don't care.

So, you were neglected for years. Years. You sat in the garage, forlorn and covered in dust. But listen, I finally got my head out of my ass and saw the light. You gotta give me that. I took you out of the garage, cleaned you up, and deposited you at the local Harley dealer to perform a Lazarus on your dusty self. Cost was not a concern, getting you running was.

And how excited was I to finally hear you roar out of the service bay a week later? You have NO idea. Riding you out into the world was a glorious feeling. Like something that had been a little off-kilter was put back to rights. I had forgotten how nimble you are for a Harley. That you're soooooo perfect for lanesplitting. That even though I barely fit on you, you still feel "right" in so many ways.

Then the shakedowns started happening. There was the big glut of old oil that came spouting out after I took you to Burbank. Oops, so the oil tank wasn't as completely drained as it should have been...that's what happens when a bike is left sitting for so long. Easily solved after getting you towed back to the Westside courtesy of the Boops.

And how about the gas leak from right behind the petcock? Yeah, that's what happens when a bike is left sitting for years; the rubber on the diaphragm that holds the petcock in place rots through and gas starts leaking. At least I was able to ride you to the dealer myself just before you died due to one of the vacuum lines being unhooked(not the dealer's fault, btw).

There were a few other minor things that came up...the backfiring at that one specific spot on the Sepulveda Pass, how sometimes the speedometer wouldn't register the correct speed, and the slow warm up when first starting you up.

But yesterday? Goddam, yesterday scared the piss out of me. I thought we had a deal. I'd try to ride you as much as possible during the week because you're really the best bike for the job in the land of narrowed freeway lanes due to major construction. I thought we had the major shakedown shit worked through. I thought you had forgiven me. But nooooooooooooooooooooooo, you hadn't.

You did the backfire thing in Sepulveda Pass again. Just once. Hmmmm. But other than that, you were great. I continue through the Valley to work, and I come off the freeway in Borebank thinking how great the day was going to be. I had ridden you to work the day before, and I was so excited to be riding you two days in a row.

And then, you died. Quietly. I was rolling to a stop sign, and so the clutch lever was pulled in, and you went quiet. WTF?! I frantically thought. I tried the obvious: turning off the ignition key, turning it on again and pressing the start button. Nothing. Not even a click. O NOES.

I pushed you to safety and started to freak out. Luckily, a former Derby Doll skater spouse passed by, stopped, and asked if everything was all right. That made me get out of my own head, collect myself, and gave me a course of action. I called the Dear Husband, who couldn't offer much help. I then called AAA.

I waited for about half an hour to be picked up, but after that things went well. The tow truck driver was actually pretty cool and funny. He made sure you, dear Sportster, were tied down safely and securely. It was a tedious drive back to the Westside due to traffic, but we made do, and thank goodness the carpool lane is open past Wilshire Blvd. on the 405. Did you know that the driver didn't charge me for the extra 20 miles beyond the AAA limit for towing? All for you, little Sportster?

The guys at the dealer remembered you, of course. You've been visiting them so often. Are you lonely? Do you prefer their company to mine? Talk to me, Sportster. Let's work this out. They even chided me for you. That's what you get for letting the bike sit! the mechanic tells me. I take it out and it shits on me! I replied.

It's true, Sportster. You know it is.

So, once the voltage regulator gets replaced(whenever it comes off of backorder, that is), can we stop the shenanigans and just ride together without negative incident? Let's get past this, Sportster. Let's work together, because both of us can go so much farther if we do!

Love,

Me
xoxo