I was surprised to discover that the magnet people went ahead and printed more of the Puss n' Boots design even though they emailed me saying that the image was a violation of their "no hot nekkid chicks" rule. Apparently they can't deny the sellability of Puss n' Boots. At least that's what I'm telling myself.
So if you find yourself at Comic Con, go to the GirlsDrawinGirls booth and buy this stuff!
Thank goodness Tilda Whirl is around to keep me from wandering off too far into Stoopidland. I found the little flower icon on the camera thanks to her and got some better shots of the little bird I found yesterday.
Obviously, I'm not a golfer.
I crack myself up.
Anyway, here we go:
Note that one of the sclerotic rings is still in the eye socket:
The past couple of days I've wreaked havoc on my sleeping schedule.
Yesterday I laid down for a 20 minute nap. 2.5 hours later, I woke up. AUGH. That sucked. I tried to go to bed at a "normal" hour for me, but of course couldn't get to sleep.
This morning I woke up about an hour and a half before my alarm went off. WTF?!?!?!
I drank an AMP energy drink, but it didn't do much good. Ah well.
As I was headed out to the back to get my bicycle to run errands this morning, I spotted a ball of feathers-and-fluff on the driveway. I shuffled over and took a swipe at it with my foot, expecting it to burst apart and flutter away.
It didn't. It just rolled a few times and came to a stop.
I doubled my efforts.
swipe
Nothing.
I leaned down and realized that I was swiping at a dead bird.
What's weird about this was that I haven't seen its little body there before, and I've been back-and-forth between the back and front of the house via the driveway every day because I use my bicycle. The bird has been dead long enough to dry out and have its eyes either rot or get eaten. Its tongue is still intact, though.
I picked it up. Weighed nothing. Its feathers are still holding its tiny skeleton mostly together, though I notice its feet are missing. I can see its dried innards to a degree.
I tried to take photos of the bird, as I find it really fascinating to examine. Unfortunately I suck at closeup photos. All of them came out blurry, so I tried using the "sharpen" filter in Photoshop to make them more clear.
This is an attempt to photograph its back and wing:
I didn't know what to do with the little body, so now it's placed on a shelf in our kitchen window. I'm a little unnerved by its presence there, though. I go in for a snack and think, "Holy crap there's a dead bird in our window!" and then promptly leave.
I'm out of sorts, but I don't know if it's because I'm running on irregular sleep or the bird.
I may bury it, but at the same time I want to see more of its skeleton.
I'm not working on work-work this week, but I'm still stoopidly busy.
I finished my GirlsDrawinGirls calendar girl. She's freakin' HAWT. I hope you come to Comic Con and buy a calendar and accompanying magnet that I'm gonna sell.
I tried to reorder magnets of last year's Puss n' Boots design, but according to the company who I ordered from previously, she's too naughty to get more merch made. Funny how they allowed her last year, but not this year. So, if you were one of the ten people who got one of those magnets, IT'S EXTRA-SPECIAL WONDERFUL AND RARE NOW SO DON'T LOSE IT!!!!!!!
Ugh.
Now I'm working on the Aftershockers logo. Here's some font fun I've been having with it:
The final choice has been made, and now I'm cleaning everything up. WHAT A PAIN IN THE ASS THAT IS.
I go to Austin, TX in a week and a half. Woohoo! Then the following week the Aftershockers make their banked track debut against a mixed team from ACDG and a few other skaters from a few other leagues. That's a fun game that I'm looking forward to. Then...blessed hiatus!
As I frantically try to finish up on the latest round of freelance and get my GirlsDrawinGirls piece done by the end of this week, here's some more photos to amuse you, dear readers:
By overwhelming popular demand(OK, one person asked), I'm going to put together a process post on Miss June sometime next week. If the post bores you, I'll give you advance permission to give Hurricane Ken a buttload o' grief about it, as he's the "overwhelming popular demand".
I'm still sick. This whateveritis that's been going around is kicking my ass. In a subtle manner. My ears feel like they're stuffed with cotton and I have a cough that gives me a constant headache. NOT FUN.
Fight Crew skated flat track in Bakersfield Saturday night. We were winning, then we lost. Not because we screwed up. Let's just say that I appreciate my league's refs a lot. I just hope that the rest of my team now appreciates them too. And yes, I skated while sick. And no, I didn't get kicked out of the game for penalties. Broadzilla did, though. Ha ha!
The afterparty failed, too. I was hanging out with the Tuscon Roller Derby's Iron Curtain(of course I LOVE this team...Soviet themes unite!!) in a dive bar across the street from the game venue when some little wannabee gangbanger did a drive-by boob grab on one of the Tuscon girls. WTF?!?!?!?!?!?! She turned to me and said incredulously, Did that guy just grab my boob??! I stared at him and said, Yep. She just looked shocked. The twerp who did it was about to do it again to another group when I turned to his targets and said, THAT GUY IS BEING A DOUCHEBAG!!! HE JUST GRABBED SOMEONE'S BOOB! Then I turned to the Dear Husband and said, LET'S GO.NOW. We left abruptly. So did the Tuscon girls, leaving the rest of Fight Crew in our wake, wondering what the hell I was ranting about, since they didn't see the boob-grabbing incident happen.
We found out the next morning that after we left, one of my teammates had her purse stolen at the bar. The idiot who did it was lurking around, so he got confronted by the husband of one of my other teammates. Then the cops got called. To the credit of the local constabulary, they had a car there in about 2 minutes, and found my teammate's cash on the suspect, and found her credit cards and purse in a trash can. The only thing she actually lost was her phone, which is minor in comparison to the credit cards, etc.
A sideline of suck about this was that another league asked our league to play them on the same night as our game. That split attention and energy between the two games, and basically Fight Crew lost on that too. When the other teams have skated their flat track games, they got a LOT of support from the league in the form of fans at the game, mucho promotion for their game, encouraging emails, etc. Fight Crew? Not so much. Guess who's gonna ask that this kind of scheduling never happens again?!
In other fail...I have a buttload of work to do, and haven't been able to do much of it because of the aforementioned ick. This week is going to be ugly work-wise to catch up.
There's a buttload of housework to do. Guess who hasn't done it because of the buttload of work that's piling up? Yeah, FAIL.
Play me off, keyboard cat:
Here's a couple of pix from the Big One. Did I mention that LADD took third place out of eight leagues that played? Which is pretty good considering that we were seeded seventh and had no idea what the hell we were doing.
Me doing something fun to one of the Sacred City girls:
Me and Boss Hogg, who is one of derby's favorite photographers. He has EXCELLENT tastes in wardrobe:
I look crazed, as usual.
This morning has been a win/fail combo plate.
I've complained here and elsewhere about the hypershit dog next door who usually starts barking around 6:30 in the fucking a.m. which is an hour and a half before I usually wake up. Which means I have to nap in the afternoon or else I'll be a complete pile of FAIL for the rest of the day.
Now, it's not that I hate dogs. I don't. But they are in the same category as children. They need a lot of love and attention, and are usually the most charming to their owners, not everyone else. Hence, I don't have a dog or a child. I'm not only thinking of myself, I'm thinking of all of YOU, my dears. Thank me for it.
Anyway, the hypershit dog next door did his thing this morning. Of course, with me being sick, this just adds to the pile of FAILI'm in the midst of experiencing. In the past, I've gone out to the back yard and yelled at the damn dog until the neighbors gather the little beast and take him inside. There's been a couple of occasions when he started in the middle of the night where I put on my bathrobe and stomped next door to pound on their front door. The dogs inside would start barking, but the neighbor wouldn't answer the door. Go figure.
Today I put on the bathrobe over my skeleton jammies(no, I'm not kidding)and stomped over in bare feet to the neighbors and pounded on the door. The neighbor lady actually came to the door and started apologizing profusely, saying that she brings the dog in as soon as he starts barking. I had to explain to her that a) waiting until he starts barking is already too late and b)it's consistently happening enough where it's really disturbing and having it happen so early is JUST NOT COOL.
I also told her that if it keeps happening, she's going to fix me some breakfast.
I think that'll stop the damn dog from waking me up in the future.
The neighbor's hypershithead dog woke me up this morning 2 HOURS before the alarm went off. Couldn't get back to sleep. Cranky as hell as a result. If that fucking dog didn't bark all goddam day, I'd be able to take a nap and catch up this afternoon.
Skated all weekend in the Big One tournament. I now have a painful-yet-impressive hip bruise. LA took third place. San Diego took first. That's gonna make a lot of flat track leagues sit up and take notice. Read my assholio blogcasting on Derby News Network.
Just started the Xmas episode of Freelance Hell. First the Halloween episode, now the Xmas episode. What's next? An Extra-Special Purim episode? And both of these holiday episodes have me drawing party sequences. If they ever met me, they'd slap their foreheads in disgust at the disparity.
Derby drama on the horizon. It could make the future derby terrain even more...interesting. Luckily I'm not the cause of it, so I'm just sitting back and giving advice when needed.
Derby drama upset my work flow this week, but I did manage to pull this out of my ass for the GirlsDrawinGirls calendar project. It's still in progress:
That round thing is the sun. That square thing is where the actual calendar part goes.
I'm stoked about the color, since I was able to fix it after looking through a couple of color theory books. At-home reference=results!
I gotta tweak the hell out of her before the end of the month. All while working on Xmas-themed freelance. Oh joy!!
Have you been feeling neglected when it comes to Redneck Theater updates? Satisfy yourself.
However, I have to attack the growing list of non-work artwork that needs to be done by the end of the month. The post-it note on the corner of my computer monitor is mocking me with its list staying stagnant...nothing is getting crossed off and labeled as "done".
The outstanding one is the calendar girl I'm doing for GirlsDrawinGirls. I started on a high note because I found a previous doodle that I thought would look cute and appropriate for the specifications for doing a girl for the month of June. I started building her in Illustrator, and all was good.
Then I started adding color, and that's when I started losing my way.
Color has always been difficult for me to handle. I took enough art classes to know basic color theory, but I'm such a simpleton about it. And obvious. I use bright primary colors a lot. Subtlety is not my forte. I know, surprising. So as I started coloring my June girl, she became more and more boring and ordinary. So far she's a mid-brunette against a mid-blue background. BORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRING!!!!! as the derby girls would scream. I need something more eye-catching, or more complimentary, or more unique or more...more.
Now I'm going through my color theory books to see if something piques my interest that will save my June girl. sigh. It doesn't help that I'm eating schnacks like there's no tomorrow...damn you, Trader Joe's and your tasty treats!!!!
Yeah, yeah, not exactly a newsflash, but here's the latest manifestation of said idiocy...
I ASSumed that the only skating-related folk that read this-here blog are from my league.
WRONG!
How did I find out otherwise? Well...
I took the Fight Crew thank you card I made for Coach Pauly to practice last night to have everyone sign. Captain Janis Choplin said that she's email me Pauly's address so that I could mail the card. Well, she didn't, and I happened to come across Pauly on Facebook this morning(I have a nasty addiction to Facebook...it's stoopid as hell but I'm on there ALL THE TIME...but I digress)and asked him for his mailing address. He then says, "So what's this about some card you made for me?"
D'OH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Turns out that he has his name wired in to Google so that he knows when people mention him online. I thought I was "safe" since I didn't put in any keywords in my posts. Durrr durrrrr durrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
So I told him to act surprised when he gets the damn card in the mail.
My lack of sneakiness regarding the card made me realize that I've been hanging out with the Dear Husband and his family too much. I call it the Israeli Secret Service. It's based on a comedy routine some standup comedian guy did years ago about how the idea that the Israeli Secret Service could keep anything a secret was ludicrous.
Imagine your average New York Jewish mom or dad at the deli yelling at the counterguy: Is the fish fresh? THE FISH...IS IT FRESH?!?!?!?!
Apply that to a secret operative situation: Is the gun loaded? THE GUN...IS IT LOADED?!?!?!?!?
I've seen this type of thing happen with the DH and his family. The classic situation is when we're going somewhere of Important Social Networking Significance and he'll say to me beforehand, "Let me know if I say something stupid." During the course of the ISNS he'll say something stupid and I'll do the Typical Wife Nudge or Kick Under the Table. What does he do in response? "OW! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"
Israeli Secret Service.
For the DH's mom's birthday we went to the Olive Garden. DH's sister was talking about...something. I forget what, as I was trying to not pay attention. My sister started texting me in the middle of the droning. Now, my sister is sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME at the table. DH's sister is sitting across from us. We continue to text back and forth for a good 20 minutes before DH's sister figures out that something's up. "ARE YOU TEXTING ABOUT ME?!?!" she finally asks.
Of course not!we reply.
Yes, we lied.
Yep, Israeli Secret Service.
OK, let's look at some drawings, shall we?
I like this drawing. I'm afraid to clean it up, because I know I'll overwork it until it sucks so much ass, all I'll see is a sphincter:
A drawing that was based on one of my jammer photos. I was trying for an upshot angle on her. I'm not getting the feets very well:
A drawing based off looking at some flat track skaters. She's pretty badass, and I hope something comes of her. I tried doing a version where she's cleaned up and looks kinda comic book-y in style. It's...ok. Not fabulous. Not as good as this:
I always like my ruffruffruff drawings way better than my cleanup drawings. Argh. But I'm going to try to do something with this stuff. 'Cos I gotta dosomething in my life besides worry about where the next job is coming from!
I finally got around to scanning in the final card I made for Fight Crew to send to Coach Pauly:
Not too crapacious, I guess!
Used a brush pen for the outline...it's a lot of fun! I need to play with brush pens in general more often...for some of the action-type stuff it'd work really well.
I gotta get off my ass and get ready for Comic Con in July. I need to make merch to sell. Small stuff, like magnets and the like. Cheap to make, easy to sell. Just like me! Ha ha, I'm such a card!
Here's a promo for the Ri-Ettes game this weekend:
Even though I'm listed as being on the roster, I'm not skating this particular game. Kinda bummed, but it's gonna be OK, as I'll be going to Austin for their Battle on the Bank tournament in June. As an alternate. Guh!
Yesterday I topped off a VERY busy week/weekend by announcing up in Bakersfield. It was a double-header and a long day of being witty yet informative for the audience. Luckily I had Suzy Snakeyes helping me out, which is great since she's had experience as a radio DJ.
Anyway, at halftime for the first game, the league invited kids out to the center of the rink and had a "dance off". Suzy and I were to judge. Of course neither of us knew about all this beforehand or else we would've been hiding in the bathroom or something while this was happening.
So I was standing like a redwood tree in a forest of writhing ground cover as the kids danced. One girl came up to me, holding her arms up. "You want me to pick you up?!" I ask incredulously. She nodded. I picked her up and told her that when she wanted to be let down to just let me know. Then I turned to the game photographers and yelled, YOU'D BETTER GET A PICTURE OF THIS COS IT AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN EVER AGAIN!!!!!
This week I'm rushing to make the end-of-the-week deadline for work. But while I was waiting for notes on said work, I pumped out a quick thank you card for Coach Pauly, who lives in Arizona and will come coach your derby league for the low low price of whatever travel costs are.
He came out this past weekend to give Fight Crew a boost. And what a boost it was! I can't wait to see how his input helps us out! I was at the track alllllll weekend. Good times!
This is the rough drawing I did:
Cute, eh?
I'm also stoked that the Sirens want me to be team manager for the rest of the season(except for the game Sirens and Fight Crew play against each other)! That should be fun!
OK, so it's been a million years since I actually posted anything art-related on this allegedart blog, so here ya go...some ugly drawings.
Of course I can't keep the derbyz out of my posts, now can I? Here we have an interpretation of badass blocker Killo Kitty from the Sirens:
I definitely need to get more cuteness in her face.
And here's a badly done scan of a Krissy Krashesque girl. It's supposed to be Krissy, but...uh...yeah. Not so much:
Having her right skate in her crotch just can't be comfortable.
Actually, I like this drawing despite its major retardation. The pose is fairly dynamic, though simplistic in a "obviously I don't look at a bunch of comic books to get these action poses more interesting" type of way. I like her head proportions a lot, too, even though it's as big as her butt. Which doesn't happen in real life. Ha!
And sorry for the crapacious scan. I usually doodle on the backs of old storyboard paper. Which shows through when I have the lid down on the copier/scanner. So I tried scanning with the lid up, and now the image is dark and gloomy. Much like my soul.
Big hat, curly hair, loud voice, cool shirt, hot pants and shiny legs:
Sirens squeaked by in the last jam, winning 77-71 against the newbie team, the Varsity Brawlers. That woke everyone in the league up! Fight Crew faces VB in August. We gots work to do!
As an extra-special bonus to my being able to be team manager on Saturday, I got to meet a punk legend: John Doe from X. Out of all the celebrities we've had at our games, this one made me the most happy. I listened to X a lot when I was younger, and still do when I'm in a particularly LA mood, mostly when driving around near downtown. So getting to talk to him was a Big Deal for me.
Anyway, I encountered him about 15 minutes before the game started, and I was all decked out in the Sirens outfit complete with cop sunglasses, Commie Captain hat, and tall boots. So I ended up towering above him. We shook hands, he laughed at my name, and I told him how much I loved his music and how excited I was that he was singing the National Anthem to start off the game. He then told me a story about how he was asked to sing the National Anthem for one of the Austin leagues but the US had just invaded Iraq so he wouldn't do it as a conscientious objector. Interesting! But apparently he's feeling a little better about the US now and did a fine job singing for us Saturday night. He couldn't stick around for the game but swore he'd come back. Oh, and of course he used to watch the LA T-birds play at the Olympic Auditorium Back in the Day.
Ever since the LA Derby Dolls were featured on an episode of Rock of Love II, I've become obsessed with the franchise. This year I've been avidly watching Rock of Love Bus, or as I also like to call it, SKANKARAMA.
Unlike seasons past, the finale was boring. BORRR-RRRING!!! It got that way as soon as Bret Michaels kicked off one of the drunkest "contestants", Ashley. Here she is in full force:
are the two best Ashley quotes of the bunch, but she's just an obnoxious ball-buster throughout her stint on the show. My other fave quote: I didn't know they made bikinis in size Fat Fuck!
Pure genius.
She's going to be on Charm School 3. Guess who has two thumbs and will be watching that train wreck?! THIS GUY!!!
I get to be the Sirens' team manager again for this game. Which means I gotta lose enough weight to fit into the uniform shirt again...which I was barely able to do last time. Ah well, people will be distracted by my captain's hat anyway! Ha!
I love the city council district the LA Derby Dolls are in. They actually like us. They like us so much, they put up a blog entry about us for last week's Treasures of Los Angelesaward ceremony.
Getting this award is a Big Deal for us. It gives us credibility in the city's eyes, and that's a Very Good Thing for when we have to search for our next digs...which we'll have to do this year at some point. Bleh.
At the awards ceremony we got to wear skates at the Bonaventure Hotel, eat free food and drink free wine in the VIP area, hang out with our city councilman, Eric Garcetti, meet and greet local newscaster Jim Hill, talk with and take photos with LA Police Chief Bratton, and hit up boxer Oscar de la Hoya for some fancy footwork lessons. As an added bonus, we got to grab all the reusable insulated shopping bags that were given as freebies as we could carry, along with an orchid centerpiece or three. A good day, to be sure!
Here's a photo(taken by famous LA photographer Gary Leonard) taken of all of us during the ceremony when Demolicious accepted the award. Top row: LA Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa, Demolicious, City Council President Eric Garcetti. Middle row: Krissy Krash, Myna Threat, Roxy Cotton, Kaboom, Juana Beat'n, some jerkface. Bottom row: Brandi Iron, Sniperella, Mila Minute, PITA.
Next week I start another round of Freelance Fun, so maybe there will be less derby blathering here.
This morning I'm riding my bicycle to the track to help out with Subpool tryouts.
Oh joy!
Lately I've been having problems with the little toe on my right foot. It's amazing how one tiny little digit can cause a wholeLOTTA pain, but there it is. It started at Blood & Thunder camp, where I did a lot of skating, and a lot of switching of surfaces between the banked track and the flat track. For whatever reason, the inside of my skate boot decided to rub up and annoy my little toe, and it's been very painful ever since. SUUUUUUUCKS to be me.
Two weeks ago we flew up to the Bay Area to celebrate my dad's 70th birthday with a really nice brunch in Walnut Creek. It was great hanging out with the parental units and stuffing ourselves stoopid. We flew up to SFO on Virgin America airlines. They're the Hipster Airline. Nice mood lighting, amusing safety video, the ability to chat with other passengers on computers mounted to the back of every seat and the gayest flight attendants EVAR. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.
GirlsDrawinGirls has a booth at Comicon again this year. We're not doing a book, but we're putting together a calendar. I'm doing the month of June, and I'm proud to say that I've actually started working on it in Illustrator already. It should be muy cute.
Here's some photos from last Saturday's game in our spiffy new uniforms. Aren't we cute?
Well, some are cuter than others. I'm in the latter category.
No real bruising, no broken bones, no torn ligaments. Just an insane amount of soreness in my upper arms/shoulders from SLAMMING THE LIVING BEJEEZUS out of skaters at the game.
Unfortunately for Fight Crew, Timothy the mouse wasn't in full effect telling us that we could fly. So we lost. Mainly in the last five minutes of the game. Frustrating. I thought that I myself skated well, but I'll have to wait until I see the video of the game to make sure.
Speaking of video, check out the rad game intro from the LADD RaD(Research and Development)group from Saturday's game. To say they keep outdoing themselves doesn't begin to cover it:
Next, finishing up the latest round of freelance and figuring out how I'm going to get through the skating schedule for the next two and a half months. I'm on four teams. FOUR FUCKING TEAMS. That's just STOOPID.
I've been thinking a great deal about what it takes mentally to win at roller derby.
One would think it doesn't take much, but I'm finding more and more that this game is ALLLL mental, with just a smidge of talent.
Much like Dumbo.
As a diversion, I'll talk about Dumbo for a moment. It's one of the very few Disney movies that I can stomach. Compared to other Disney films of the general era, it was done on the cheap, which appeals to my Warner Bros. sensibilities.
My parents got me the Dumbo storybook LP when I was but a small child, and I would listen to the LP over and over and over again. Pink Elephants on Parade was of course my favorite part. The other fave section was Dumbo with the crows. Pure genius.
And that's where roller derby comes in. I haven't found the magic feather that will make me fly. And I shouldn't need one, but I do.
Looking at game footage from this season shows me that my team has what it takes to win. But we let the little things get to us, and that's when we lose the magic feather. I don't know how to grab Timothy the mouse in time to reassure me that yes, you can fly!YOU CAN FLY!YOU CAN FLY!!!!!!
But we'll try again and see what happens. Hopefully we won't wait until we're jumping out of the prop burning building to find out that our flying abilities are just fine, thank you very much.
It's official, I won't be working on any more talking Great Dane stuff anytime soon.
There's been a regime change, and the idio--I mean, very talented folks put in charge of ALL creative endeavors at the studio wouldn't hire me on a dare. I don't really know for sure why they don't like me, all I know is that they don't.
Grrrrr.
Kinda weird...I've worked on talking Great Dane stuff of one sort or another for seven years. It became as dependable as the sun rising in the east for me. But I started to figure out in January that it was really dark outside; the sun had ceased to rise for me on that particular franchise. It makes me sad for a variety of reasons. I didn't particular love the franchise, but I loved working with the crew. And I love the studio. Yeah, it's masochistic, but it's true. I'm gonna miss it.
From Baltimore's Charm City league, this great observation from Cindy Lop-her:
I guess it just goes to show that people are watching you, even when you feel far away from being watched, and at any given point in time you can be someone else’s role model. Shit, if that isn’t a reason to live your life with integrity, I don’t know what is.
It's in a derby context, and you can read the whole blog entry here, but it sure as shit should apply to everyone, no?
This week I've been on-call to go downtown for potential jury selection. Monday and Tuesday I got off free, but Wednesday morning will find me sleepily wandering around on Temple St. looking for the right courthouse to report in at 7:45am.
7:45am.
That's just inhuman for a night owl like me.
At least I don't have work this week, and I can't imagine that any attorney would be stupid enough to put me on a jury, so it's worth losing a little sleep over. Hell, I haven't been sleeping well anyway.
I has another game coming up! I designed a poster for it:
Art Department co-head Ryder Hard said, That's OK, but this is better:
I have to agree! I like how she took my pseudo-new wave attempt and made it look old school east LA boxing poster-esque.
My team FINALLY got new uniforms, too. We look purty(well, most of us. At a recent photo shoot showing off our new threads, I look like a transvestite. SRSLY)! I think we'll do well in this next game.
Moar fun stuff: I'm on the flat track Ri-Ettes all-star team!! We'll be skating in the Big One tournament in mid-May, which features California leagues Angel City, BAD Girls, Sac City, Sacred City, and...LA!! We're uber stoked about this, because as far as I know it's the first time a banked track league has been invited to skate in a flat track tournament!
I'm also an alternate again for the banked track Ri-Ettes this year. Why the discrepancy between the flat track and banked track versions of the roster? Not all the Ri-Ettes wanted to skate flat. Win for me! And frankly, I find B teams to be more fun anyway. Though I do hope to go to this year's Battle on the Bank tournament in Austin this June in any capacity possible.
Welp, I gotta go get ready for my early rising tomorrow, as well as getting together something resembling a lesson plan for this weekend's Blood & Thunder camp in San Diego that I'm supposed to be coaching at. Lourdy!
Here's a rough drawing I did while in the latest round of Freelance Hell:
Probably won't end up using it for anything, but oh well. She has a nice butt.
Lately I've been pondering the direction of the new wave of roller derby. Especially since I don't want to start to contemplate the fuckedness that is my choice of day career. I'm skeered to death on that front.
Anyway...
On one of the rad sites I frequent, there's been a lot of discussion about mainstreaming the sport in various ways.
Which is ironic, since one of the greatest appeals of the new wave of derby(hell, just derby in general)is that it's not a mainstream sport. OK, I'm SO NOT SAD that the penalty wheel isn't used by most leagues...in fact, I'm SO DAMN GLADthat my league never did it. It takes away from the pacing of the game, and ironically, it generally doesn't make the players look good.
It's interesting to see more and more leagues go from a very loose interpretation of the concept of a team uniform to seeing everyone not only in the same uniform, but just having numbers on the backs of their volleyball jerseys, without the names to go with it. This drove me nuts while watching the WFTDA Nationals over the interwebs, since me and many other people who tuned in don't know all of the players from all of the leagues skating. The sport isn't there yet, people. I'd like to be able to see both name and number so that I can identify and identify with the skaters.
Which brings me to my grandest of sadness: the decision by a small but growing amount of skaters to stop using "skate names".
I love my skate name. And even though everyone says that my skate name is really just little ol' me, I need the separation of Tara Armov from the rest of my brain. Tara's even more angry than I am, and I've had to admit to myself that by nature I'm an angry person. I have to be angry about something to function. Tara is a way to channel that rage into something somewhat constructive. And I think a lot of derby players need that separation, too.
Why?
Here's my theory...let's look at the average coverage of new wave derby. It's mostly comprised of, "calm, meek librarian by day, wild rollergirl by night". The ol' madonna/whore syndrome. Society still has issues about its wimmins being loud, brutal, and able to take care of their own business.
I think the skate names offer a "safe place" to let out the agression women otherwise aren't "allowed" to have. Well, the entire sport of new wave derby offers that, too. But the skate names add something...oh...I dunno...fun about it all. So does the not-quite-uniform uniforms.
And here's a secret about fun...one generally willing to work harder if they're having fun doing it, whether it's derby, day job, or whatever. TAKE NOTE OF THAT, all you companies out there that expect more work for less pay from your employees. You'd better at least make it fun, dammit.
Ahem...
Women can really tap into the fun aspects of this whole thing, and then can end up applying themselves to the sport when they get hooked on having their butts firm enough to set drinks on and endurance that'll compete with most men.
It's really a bait-and-switch. People hear about this derby stuff. They find out the skaters are women. And that the women have skate names that are usually puns and can be rather risque and wear non-typical uniforms. So these people come to games with a Playboy-influenced idea in their heads about what "roller derby" is like. Then the game starts, and by gawd, it's a REAL FUCKING GAME. These women are actually hitting the living bejeezus out of each other. And they're competing. With NO pillow-fights. And they're having FUN while doing it. OMFG. WHO KNEW?!?!?!?! Everyone's minds are BLOWN. Their minds have been tweaked just a tad...for the better.
And if it's a league that's able to add some production value with lights, good announcers, and a great venue...it's an EVENT. And people come away with a good impression of derby, and a good impression of the skaters, with a twist in its non-comformity of the usual sports on ESPN.
I think the current new wave derby is like early punk. It's shaking up perceptions of what playing a sport should be like. So to see those within derby wanting to go "mainstream", I think that takes away the very aspect of what makes derby the wonderful-horrible beast that it is. I never would've gotten involved in the sport if it were "mainstream".
Not that the sport would've suffered if my wondrous presence was absent, but it does make me wonder how many other amazing skaters wouldn't have gotten into it if everything about the sport was "mainstream"?
Well, all this thinking is making me tired, which isn't good since I have to go to practice and then drive to Bakersfield to do some announcing. Two things I wouldn't be doing if I wasn't involved in derby the way it is now. Wow, interesting to contemplate.
The ramblings, doodles, and misadventures of an animatin', roller derby-playin', drunk-doodlin', murdersickle-ridin' goofball woman in Lost Strangeles. You can try to shut me up, but it probably won't work.
