Avin's Day

Feelin Myself

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Fri, 29 May 2015 16:30:00 +0000

Breaking news people. I have decided to embark on an epic journey. One that can only be traversed alone. I will see things that I have never seen, experience life in a a new and fantastic sometimes absurd way. I have waited until I am close to the precipice of my 40th year on this here planet to undertake this epic adventure. I my dear friends and family am pregnant...again...at 39. I must be out of my damn mind!

Most of you already know that the original boy is 22 and enjoying his Junior year at college so I am sure you are wondering why in the name of everything correct would I go and get knocked up now? When he is so close to being out of my pocket and out in the real world. Well it would only be right if somehow I were the very first of my group to have a child and then somehow be the very last. Girls I went to school with are grandparents now. That's no exaggeration, there are like 7 of them. I counted. These kids are toddlers too, not newborns. I am unfashionably late to this party and I showed up unable to drink your liquor or eat your fancy charcuterie/soft cheese/raw fish hors d'oeuvres. How about them apples?

All this fussing I am doing ehh just ignore me. My husband is so happy he could just explode. This is his first baby and a boy at that so he feels like he his the damn jackpot. I honestly feel like I did too. First off, I didn't want to do hair. I don't want to do my own as evidenced by this Side Show Bob mess on my dome. Next, girls like accessories, and colors, and other things I don't do well. Every woman I know was praying I was having a girl but twas not to be. I am happy as hell I am getting another boy. I did a bang up job with the first and I plan on doing the same with the second. Y'all can keep your boy band posters, barrettes, dresses and barbies. I am good. This does make me slightly outnumbered by 4 in the household but I don't really care. there are worse problems to have IMO (like not being able to eat sushi, lunch meat, soft cheese or wine) so I guess I will survive.

I have another 6 months to go and right now I am a pretty manageable size. I am low-key agitated that no one can tell I am pregnant with this basketball I am sporting up front. First off, if you look at me and aren't thinking pregnant are you thinking I am just fat right in the middle? Like who looks like this that isn't pregnant? I am fully confused! I cant get a damn seat on the train, people wont make eye contact and all I want to do is scream "I'm not fat I am pregnant you ninny!" Seriously, where are people shaped like this that aren't pregnant? I want to know!

Our anniversary just passed last week and things are still wonderful despite the leggy greedy guy in my gut telling me when to sleep, eat, pee and forget things. He is already pushy as fuck. God only knows what the sweet little long legged angel is doing in there most days. There probably wont be another post until after he shows up cause I forget this thing exists and well no one reads it anymore. Its nice for me though. Off to go eat!

Blank Space

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Fri, 29 May 2015 16:05:00 +0000

What can or should I say about the last 5 months? There's been triumph and tragedy and joy and sorry and new friends and obstacles. What can I say? I can start with the good. My son is doing well in school, I love my husband and our marriage, I am officially an SGI Budhist and I am employed and finishing my last 8 credits. All of these things and my wonderful friends and family are great. The other shit... I am tired all the time, and broke. I have possibly the most unhappy person on the planet as my boss and I am fat cause I can't work out between the two jobs and school. If that weren't enough my dad has the remainder of his kidney removed in October due to another tumor, resetting his transplant clock to two years at the one year and 5 month mark. Devastating news for us all and before he can heal up we get the crazy news that mom has breast cancer. So one week out from intense chemo for what we thought was stage 1 but after surgery turned out to be stage 3, we are just trying to make the best of it all. For her, cause not to sound cliche but why the fuck her? Granted, if it's gonna be someone, Cancer picked the toughest bitch available. My momma wasn't built with any quit in her. So even though I know it's gonna be bumpy, she is gonna fight. You know those Internet memes that say stuff like "I was built for this shit?" That's mom. She possesses a mental toughness that most regular folks haven't ever seen. So fuck that Cancer. In the words of my husband. "If you see my mother in law in a fight with a bear, you better go help the bear." I will figure out how to feel about all this later. When I am less tired and my folks are healthy and I don't have a demon for a boss.

Spring 2014 or That year I got fired, got married, became a buddhist, took summer classes, lost 20lbs, lost my bathroom ceiling, worked in a liquor store and watched my 21 year old get a degree.

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Thu, 31 Jul 2014 00:43:00 +0000

Yeah so there's that. Who knew all this time that 2014 was secretly lying in wait for me to do everything I hadn't managed to accomplish or fail at all in the span of six short months. Hey do you know unemployment pays like nothing and stops after 6 months? I should be down at the food stamp line or walking the track. Fuck me. I just keep thinking about the creditors. I hate creditors. Why the fuck did you even give me that money if you didn't want me to spend it? You knew I wasn't good for that shit when you sent the card. SMH... So instead of sitting at home bitching about that wretched job I fucking hated any.damn.how I am ringing up fellow drunks in my happy place. We will call it the liquor emporium for safety sake and because...fuck it that sounds fancy/classy and shit. On my off time (read: days, weekends and such) I am working tirelessly on boring a hole straight through the couch with my ass as I attempt feats such as "finish your degree" and "don't fail math". It's really quite interesting. I even bore the dog. An animal that sleeps a solid 20 hours a day. I bore him! Talent I tell ya. Honestly, I complain but I should be grateful. Which I sort of am. I have had a monster break that has allowed me to keep from putting more miles on my vehicle and not get an oil change since March. I have also been building my good karma which is pretty cool too. Except all this fancy expensive schooling is keeping me from gongyo and Daimoku with my fellow faith folks on the regular. Oh, hey I did something grown up other than get hitched. We will get there I promise. I got a tutor. I went and found me a math tutor to help me with my remedial fraction life. It only took 20+ years for me to realize that I wasn't ever gonna "get" algebra on my own. She is cool too in a bookish, doctoral student way. I dig her. If I thought she drank or left the house to do fun shit I would totally drag her out to have fun. Oh shit! I am supposed to be writing her a review! Then there was the portal to another universe that opened up in my only lavatory. Twice I awoke to the recreation of the great flood in my bathroom. Once when the light fixture fell off the wall and the second time when a bubble of water large enough to drown a small animal formed behind the latex paint. The first time they only came out to patch the ceiling. The second? Well they are in there removing the whole damn shebang right now. Granted, I am not happy about 6 hours of math set to the soundtrack of saws and hammers but at least I know that there won't be any creatures climbing through it to come and get me. Thanks mom for the visual. So, back to the wedding. It was small. We just decided in the intellectual words of Jagged Edge we weren't getting no younger so we might as well do it. We just felt like it was the right time and we didn't want to pay to feed gossipy fake people who want to trade a $20 picture frame for a $100 dinner. Fuck em. We had a small family get together afterwards and ate some food together and later went off to Vegas in a very funny mock honeymoon. Oh and I will probably never remember our wedding date either. Cause it was initially planned for May 23rd a Friday but then my kid needed to graduate from college that day so we moved it to the 22nd. It was comical in a happy, sort of unexpected change way. Then I cried like a fool during the kids graduation. The whole damn time. Oh and my mother clowned me as I bawled like an infant. Way to go mom! All that lead up to say that the boy got accepted to a 4 year and they are steady dicking him around on the daily. Welcome to higher learning kid. As for me I finally found someone to hire my fail ass. Sure it's twice the work for 2/3 the money and my new boss is the most unprofessional person in life, but let's just thank the universe that I will be drawing down a paycheck. No hooking for me! I kid I kid. It's not bad it's just not ideal. It could be worse. I will just try to remember what T.I. says and when they ask how you are say "better than you!"

This is me...then

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Wed, 02 Apr 2014 04:22:00 +0000

My life is changing. A lot. Some by choice some by design but all for the better. I am trying to understand myself and those around me. Somedays are hard and these changes fit poorly and look matronly and sad. I will work it out eventually. The one thing I've learned is that everything is temporary.

What is sticking in my craw is not being able to match communication with people. For instance, explaining the difference between anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds to someone who thinks Psychology is voodoo and all pills are a crutch is frustrating as fuck. So I am upset, and I feel unsupported because the person I love and want to marry is a complete clod about modern medicine.

It's the tried and true way of black folks. The majority believe that mental health services are akin to witch doctory. Well buddy, let me tell you about who I was before all that fancy chemical balancing medication I've been taking since the early 90's. It's the only thing standing between me and abject insanity. It's the reason I am able to live the life I have now, and most of the reason you tolerate me at all.

I am a profoundly depressed individual. Have been since adolescence. It's taken forever for me to get to the point where I can feel comfortable even taking the damn things much less tell folks that I do. So when I get pushback (for doing what A. Is smart and B. Is my chosen degree program) from someone who is also profoundly fucked up with years of latent anger and grief, drowned for 15 years in liquor to dull it, I get irritated.

So, while I probably won't tell him, let me tell you who the unmedicated Avin was. Avin, in her early 20's only had trash that clinked. She chain smoked and contemplated suicide daily. She indescriminatly fucked random guys from the internet and the office, spent an inordinate amount of time causing others problems and basically not giving a fuck. AT. ALL. This fucked up individual was someone's mother. A very small, very impressionable boy and though I never put him in the direct line of harm, I did make stupid shitty ass choices that could have turned into a real mess. One night after a high school friend turned stalker found my number and called 20 times in 3 hours I had a had enough. I found Paxil and a shrink after a nervous breakdown and my entire world changed.

Over the years I have changed meds and doctors but the fact remains the same without pills I am a wild card. I found that out the hard way this summer. My cash started running low and I couldn't afford my shrink because of the crapass insurance my former boss offered. So I started running out of meds at possibly the worst time imaginable. My fiancé almost killed himself in a drunken blackout car wreck and I started fretting about the future. My dad was diagnosed with kidney cancer...again, and my folks had to go to California for 6 weeks for his partial nephrectomy. Work got intense and without my trusty meds to bolster me, the depression crept back in and I started spiraling. I was either angry or crying every day. I stopped talking to friends, snapping at family and generally just being a jerk. My anxiety which goes and and hand with my depression started affecting my sleep. I called off the wedding. In fairness, I wasn't getting any help and I was out of money anyway. Then I stopped sleeping, and started trying to combat the insomnia with excersize. It didn't work. Basically, I was a terror for 3 months, a living breathing monster having panic attacks constantly.

Then I spoke to my therapist who (god love her) let me come free of charge for a while till my money got right. Only then did the world come into focus again. By then I had a mess to clean up, my fiancé was accusing me of all sort of treachery, and my friends were like wtf. Needless to say, if I can avoid going off my meds I do.

So, when I got laid off in March, I was at least smart and lucky enough to reup and fast. I have enough to make it until my ACA healthcare kicks in. That and I had a chance encounter with a lady at my night job (henceforth referred to as my only job) who told a funny story about her cat who comes when she chants. She's Buddhist, and something in me volunteered that I have always had an interest in the practice. She invites me to their center and I take her card. That was the day before New Year's Eve and while I considered attending, my nerves got the better of me but I put her card in my purse.

Fast forward to my being axed from a job I hated anyway by an awful man with no integrity on Fat Tuesday no less. As I clean out my desk in anger, blinking back tears, I find my Buddhist friend's card and I know immediately what I need to do. So I email her that day and though I have no job and no prospects I am one thing and that is a practicing buddhist. I have always felt like one in my heart and I took to it like a duck to water. I chant every morning and evening and I fellowship with other Buddhists.

It to me was inevitable. The house full of Buddhas, the enormous tattoo on my back. Come on, I've always known and honestly so did my family. Friends have been super supportive and even the fiancé has been complementary. I feel better, hopeful, happy despite the obvious challenges of having no full time employment and a mortgage.

No matter, I chant the Daimoku and Gongyo with determination and it feels amazing. That said, positivity and purpose are wonderful, but I still have to take my meds. These things do not remove chemical imbalance. Facts are facts. So, that's who I am now but surely, things could be very different for me. I now understand that there are no accidents in Buddhism only cause and effect. Just like being laid off is the path that will lead me to something better, Zelda's card on my desk that day was no coincidence.

Everything is temporary, including this not having a job thing and I know because I chant Nam Myoho Renge Kyo. I chant for my fiancé to understand that the medicine isn't a crutch, and I chant to stay focused and positive about new employment. I even chant for people who most would feel don't deserve it, like my former boss. It's a daily reminder that I am working toward a better life for me and all those around me.

Ronda Rousey's Humility Problem

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Mon, 30 Dec 2013 22:24:00 +0000

After a weekend filled with debate, I awoke this morning thinking about how little things have changed for women in this country over the last 30 years. Several very ridiculous debates have come about in the last few weeks and while I attempted to wrap my head around them several other incidents over the years popped into my head as well. First, lets discuss Ronda.

This weekend, after months of hype and build up, UFC 168 finally arrived and with it the Rousey vs. Tate fight. Folks who arent into MMA, if they knew anything about this fight at all, only knew what they had seen and heard in the media. I will give the general public a pass on knowing the ins and outs, so this is the story condensed. Rousey, who is the womens Bantam weight champ, has twice fought Miesha Tate. She is an olympic Judo bronze medalist, hailing from a former Judo world champion mother. She has an impressive 8-0 record fighting and beating Tate twice in less than two years. Her record as a fighter speaks for itself. Where the drama comes in is her personality. I've known about the Tate rivalry for a while, since before the first fight and there is no love loss between these two. They flat out dont like each other. Which, up to and during the taping of TUF 18 was mutual. They had shared very public verbal attacks, each giving as good as they got with Tate questioning Rousey's striking ability and Rousey questioning Tate's ground game. Once the cameras came on, it seemed as though the only person not fond of the other was Rousey. In the case of Tate, she seemed game to let herself be portrayed as the calmer, classier of the two and Ronda for her part seemed impatient, petty and perpetually butthurt. Rousey has since said that the editing was very favorable to Tate as she was attempting to mend fences with Rousey every week and clutching her pearls when the olive branch extended was repeatedly snapped in half. The anger between the two came to a rapid boil this weekend and culminated in Rousey's 3rd round win and a defening chorus of boos from the attending audiance as Ronda graciously accepted her belt back and attempted to explain why she refused to shake Tate's hand after the tap. Seems awful right? Well, lets examine this a little further shall we?

First, I dont profess to understand the reality TV editing process, but I do have to say that when you are told that you are coaching with one person, and your arch rival shows up in their place, you might be a little peeved. Second, Tate is well aware that this would upset Ronda, and for his part so was Dana. They seemed almost gleeful about the pairing as there was no way that Tate's presence would rub Rousey the wrong way immediately. Tension is a big seller and this rivalry did wonders for TUF 18. It was one of the most watched TUF seasons in history. In addition, everyone loves a good villan, and it was easy to slide Rousey into this position. She is confident, cocky, unapologetic. She will trash talk you, she absolutley has no quit in her and no room for self doubt. This is what made her a Judo champ and what makes her such a great fighter. That type of thinking and bravado that made Ali unstoppable, it is how The Rock spent most of his early career in wrestling (despite what you might think of the validity of wrestling) and in the same night, a fighter notorious for his grandstanding and mocking of opponants, who was arguably the best MMA fighter in the world, lost his rematch in a horrific injury. None of these people had any issue with being the villain. They were booed and jeered and they still went on to successfuly win or defend titles. The closest I have seen to the type of vitrolic angst displayed by Rousey haters was when Ali was called a draft dodger (this right here is deeper than rap so I will not go much further) but no one disputed his talent and his trash talk was not only tolerated but celebrated and quoted year after year. The difference in this comparison between a Rousey and an Ali only boils down to one thing. Gender.

America, god love it or something, still has a HUGE problem with women. Not just fighting women, or singing women, or reporting women, or business women. Nope, america's problem with the entirety of women in general is the same as its always been. If you arent humble, you are disrespectful and this is where Tate has been able to gain fans over Rousey. Its not about talent, because we were all on board with her and her talent last year during the Carmouche fight remember? No one was in Carmouche's corner were they? Well, she didnt look like Tate either, so there is that but basically put, pretty girls should be quiet and bragging about one's athletic prowess and not being willing to make nice with an opponant is a highly undesirable trait for a woman. Whether she chose to shake the hand of a woman who she felt had disrespected her family or not, the crowd's decision had been made long before that. The snub just added more fuel to the fire.

Not only will Ronda not sell herself short, but she refused to engage in what looked like calculated attacks on her group by the Tate folks day after day during the TUF season. Even after Dana sat them both down to discuss it, Ronda practiced avoidance and Tate just kept poking the bear. The eyebrow joke about Edmund, the socks thing during the square up photo, the training coach who came just to start shit with Edmund to get him kicked off, and how could we forget Tate's boyfriend being confronted about his mysoginistic tweet threatening to punch Rousey's teeth down her throat or the subsequent "know your place" tweet. So, when the media sees Tate smiling with her outstretched hand to offer her congratulations on the fight (after baiting and goating this thing along for months) everyone is appauled at Rousey's lack of sportsmanship when she doesnt want to shake her hand? I dont recall that being a caviot of competition, that you smile and accept the extended hand of your opponant less you be seen as a createn or a nardowell. No, I dont even think we would be talking about this if these two were men.

We are talking about professional fighters here. People who spend their day's and nights training to pound in each others faces and we are all so shocked that they arent going to the nail place together? No, we arent, and if this were a group of men, no one would give a shit about because it doesnt really matter unless you are a woman. Then maybe you should smile pretty and be everyone's friend and never crow too loudly about your accomplishments and in the words of Brian Caraway know your place. Maybe then you wont be seen as disrespectful and then we can talk about what this is really about. Letting women continue to be mute and sexy agreeable entities who do this for the enjoyment of men, not the love of the sport. The worst offenders by the way are women. You should see the way they have gone on the attack. Joining right in with the men to defend poor Tate against that horrible Rousey. They are all over the comments sections of every blog, report and I tell you, I expect it from men, but the women really shocked me. Women's MMA is already much maligned and those involved struggle everyday to support each other and defend women's right to even be included in this sport. Between the "this isnt feminisim" folks and the "women shouldnt do this camp" it just bothers me to watch women lead the charge against each other. I dont want it to seem like this just applies to physical persuits. Nope, lets talk about this new Beyonce album.

For the last three weeks I have had to hear all about how Beyonce isnt shit. She cant sing, we hate her songs, her fans are annoying. Yeah yeah, okay so depending upon the week that's every women in the entertainment industry. Oh you think not? Lets see. Lady Gaga is too weird, and cant sing, J.LO cant sing or dance, Mariah is crazy, Ciara is a man, Taylor Swift is bitter, Miley Cyrus is a slut, Katy Perry is stupid, Mary J. cant sing, Christina A. cant dress, Adele is too fat. I mean those are just the ones in the public eye right now. Those that have passed? They dont get a break either. Whitney was a druggie, Amy Winehouse was a drunk. I mean there are countless other singers who no one can seem to say anything remotely nice about and of course who is leading the charge? Women. My own friends have bought the hype. Personally, I cant figure out all the hatred for Beyonce. She doesnt bother me one way or the other. None of them do honestly, but the most in thing to do these days is to just complain about how someone who does something you couldnt do on your best day isnt good enough. The new album is a departure from her regular radio friendly fare. She talks about sex with "gasp" her husband of almost 6 years and she had the audacity to bite back at those haters who she was tired of hearing from. God forbid she think she is great at what she does, and speaks about sex. She must be horrible, she cant be a feminist! People please stop it. We have enough trouble making it through the day without having to hear from everyone how substandard we are as women, now we cant even listen to music?

And this isnt new. Remeber when Natilie Maines said something about Dubya and Texas? Jesus they were talking about killing those girls. God forbid they dont agree with your politics. Sometimes it doesnt even have to be political we just have the audacity to breathe and live and suddenly women who dont pipe down are lesbians or dont know their place. It just fosters the male belief that we are emotional and catty. It happens at our jobs, all day on social media, and everywhere you turn. So when people feel like they need to speak up about Ronda Rousey not knowing her place or not being humble enough for the masses I have to wonder when we are going to stop being villified for being proud enough to own our greatness and not cow tow to those who feel we shouldnt brag about our accomplishments?

Good Eats

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Fri, 13 Dec 2013 18:20:00 +0000

My inordinate love of food has been pulling me to new places all over town recently. The thing about new places is that when they are good, you almost don't know how to behave. Case in point, you hear about or get the scoop on someplace obscure. You find out that their food is amazing and then the dilemma sets in. If you scream from the mountaintops that you love the place will you ever get a seat there again? Will the quality of the food suffer under the weight of the new customers? Or do you simply keep quiet so you can have all of their delicious food to yourself and run the risk of having the business shut its doors due to lack of traffic? I honestly have no idea what to do in those situations. Right now I am sitting on two fabulous places that I want to reccomend (and I will, give me a min damn) to the world but I know that the more folks I tell, the more people will box me out of a table. Ah well let me just give folks their props.

Cafe Rue in Beltsville

Awesome place, awesome chef, unbelievable food. Seriously, I went with the fiance last week and I havent stopped thinking about the food since we left. In my quest to remain out of the fatgirl catagory (until the wedding) I cant just go traipsing up there any old time I please getting fat off the best chicken and waffles in the entire area. No seriously, you can quote me on that. Never, have I had such amazing, crispy, juicy deep-fried goodness paired with a light and crispy waffle in my entire life. This man has the whole game right. I had the Sriracha chicken and waffle and soon to be husband had the Chicken and Red Velvet waffle. I seriously had trouble finishing it all. Home made hotsauce, pecan butter, just extraordinary goodness of the highest order. I will go back as much as my waistline allows, and I encourage you to do the same. No, go like right now.

Honest

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Wed, 04 Dec 2013 04:51:00 +0000

Recently I have realized that amongst some circles I am not well liked. To this I say Good! I am sorry, let me clarify if I might. In the words of Fantasia "I'm feeling a little wavy, so right now I don't mind pulling your card".

Fuck your dog ass, turnip shaped husband and his bitch ass friends and your drag queen looking, hooker ass homegirl who don't fucking know me and her ratchet, horrible ass makeup and eyebrow game.

Fuck your lying, smiling, shucking and jiving, never available always lying, ain't about shit probably married ass boyfriend. No one believes him and he should get cancer.

Fuck your coworking bitch ass, and your cry baby, dirty clothes wearing, idiot fucking, lame ass best friend.

Fuck you and your gossiping commiserating with the aforementioned dog ass husband on Facebook cousin and your punk ass manipulative, passive aggressive linkedin stalking ass.

Fuck you, your mammy, your homegirls and your bitch ass, hut dwelling baby daddy for thinking you all matter and for ungratefully mooching off me like a goddamn parasite for years.

Eat two dicks with your ugly pig looking fat ass and your new Philly freeway lookin husband with your shitty no sense having ex-wife ass.

Catch a brick with your woah is me soft, old, no sense having, disease ridden, bitch made "my wife doesn't understand me" please get the fuck outta here ass.

Triple fuck your absentee ass and ya inbred looking, future third exwife and your tribe of barefoot, backwoods stupid ass, recessive gene sporting, hydrocephalus having progeny.

Fuck your disrespectful two baby momma, basement dwelling fail ass and your shady get rich quick parents.

This is your last mention on this blog. I hope you all climb something high, get up a running start and aim for something sharp on the pavement. All of you go kill yourselves. You are welcomed.

Oh, oh, collard greens...

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Tue, 03 Dec 2013 15:35:00 +0000

Thanksgiving was good. Quiet as hell thanks to an entire faction of the family being missing this year. Shit works for me. Less dishes to clean less sweet potatoes to cook. I am full and contemplating the why's of society.

I had a very busy night at job 2 yesterday and some interesting convo with a coworker. A kid basically. He might be two years older than my kid but he is pretty smart. Good head in his shoulders. I bring this up to mention that I realty think I was some sort of Jewish matchmaker in a former life.

The way I understand it is that the act of matchmaking in the Hebrew faith is called The Shidduch. The way I understand it this comes from a recommendation from family members, friends or others who see matchmaking as a mitzvah, or commandment. I am always attempting to pair like minded love minded souls which I thing might be residuals of a past life. Anyway, the kid. He needs a girlfriend and I think I might be able to help him. The terrible little two-toned skunk hair little girl that spends all her time trying to get with him is not the right one. This heffa had on all cammo errything yesterday. Shameful and tragic. I will spend some amount of time attempting to find him a suitable mate. Not too much mind you, but I can see that the pool he is wading in now is very shallow.

Outside of that I watched the TUF finale Saturday night. I was not shocked by any of it honestly. I figured Julianna would win against Rakoczy and though I didnt want it to happen I saw Holdsworth winning against Grant. Nothing was surprising about either fight.

TUF: Episode 12

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Thu, 21 Nov 2013 13:30:00 +0000

Of course I came in about 10 min late to the show due to work but what is the first thing I see? Gutierrez. Its three hours to fight time and he still has to cut 8 damn pounds. From what I could gather from the conversation he was 144 the night prior to the fight, and woke up at 145 (the scale on the wall indicated that). He seemed unfazed at first, but I have said it before and I will say it again. Cutting weight, any weight at all is hard. All the Epsom salt baths and sauna stints in the world are sometimes not enough to bridge a big weight gap. I did see one of my teammates cut 16 lbs for a fight once. He is usually a pretty bubbly guy, but between the excessive sweating, running and hunger he was less than amiable that day. I personally think Anthony was a victim of Pena's enchiladas. He and Bollinger talked mad shit about her but they were eating her cooking like someone was going to steal it. So Anthony is bitching about taking breaks and seriously, how is that going to work when you have so much weight to lose? He was clearly the eatingist MF in the whole house and in the end even Baszler couldn't defend his ass. The whole episode is about how this confirmed clown (check my posts I called it week 2) can't make weight.

They switch off to talk about Davey for a while. He is lean and mean. Hungry but lean and clearly focused on winning and getting home to his young sons. Meanwhile, Gutierrez is still bitching about taking breaks and Edmond, Manny and Ronda look like to top of their heads are about to blow off. Now, if you'll recall this is the same, game playing, shit talking, enchilada eating, free pass getting motherfucker who has had the whole season to train and lose weight. Did he do that? Nope. He wanted to talk shit about Pena and try to come for Fissette. You remember that shit. When they asked him "who do you think is the weakest here" and this fool said Fissette. Naww bitch, that's you! You are the softest, weakest link. Talking about "I could take you". Not if you don't make weight jackass. I know what you can take. A seat and another enchilada. It's soft just like you.

After the official weigh in he has an hour left and he comes in at 140. After a smooth 30 more minutes this asshat says he is gonna quit cause that's what bitches do. Sure enough here comes Dana to publicly embarrass his monkey ass and show him the door but first he gives him the opportunity to explain himself. This fool launches into the most pointless explanation of his mega-epic fail including saying that he doesn't expect Davey to forgive him. Davey for his part promptly says "I wont". Frankly I don't blame him. He wanted to earn this. Not get it by default. Dana points at the door and we bid adieu to Gutierrez and good riddance to big bitches.

Next week is the last semi-final fight between Jessica Rakoczy and Raquel Pennington. They are both top notch boxers and they both really want it bad so this should be great fight.

No Games

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Wed, 20 Nov 2013 18:38:00 +0000

Even though I have seen the last two TUF episodes I have not been blogging about them. Holdsworth beat Wooten and Pena beat Moras. Both were decent fights. I understand that tonight Davey Grant is scheduled to fight Anthony Gutierrez. I really like Grant so hopefully he will give Gutierrez a run for his money although I have to tell you its disconcerting to me that Gutierrez is the sole face of the TUF commercials. Is that foreshadowing? God I hope not. With working this other job in addition to my crazy regular job I haven't really had the wherewithal to recap. I am tired. The fiance had shoulder surgery Monday of last week and its been non-stop. I forgot how hard it is to be someones primary caregiver. Not that the fiance is a remotely good patient, but he was much more agreeable once he got his meds. I am beginning to channel my "No Days Off" life from back in 09. I am seriously not interested in that so I am hoping for sleep and relaxation soon.

So while I am still awake lets talk about GSP/Henderson last week. Which btw I did not order cause its a month from Christmas and frankly I need my cash. First of all, I don't want to speak on it like I watched it. I have only seen highlights and heard a ton of chatter on it. What I did see was that Georges basically had a traumatic brain injury mid fight that had him talking about a break. So, a big WTF to Joe Rogan and especially Dana White on some "He owes us" bullshit. First of all, that man just went to war with a kid we all know is a tough guy. I personally am not digging the Great White Hope thing they are doing with him but that is whatever. Dana going on record to say he thinks GSP lost is some fuckshit. I don't care what your gripe is with the Vegas commission, you are the face of the company and its bad for business to be that vocal about who you thought won and why you think GSP owes somebody.

True story, Dana has made his money off his fighters backs 20 times over. If he wanted he could have a PPV fight with a new headliner just about every weekend. Shoot, at this rate its almost 2 a month sometimes so lets not act like GSP going away to take care of some personal shit would hurt his wallet too much. He has Weidman/Silva coming up, Rousey/Tate and from what I understand Maynard/Diaz 3. He can have a seat. Oh and fuck Joe Rogan too. Stop diggin in that man's business. Frankly if I had just gone 5 rounds with a damn grizzly and managed to live, I might want a vacation too. Let alone time to let my fucking face heal and repair my damn family life. Stop asking me if I am retiring. Give me a fucking second to collect my thoughts. Fuck outta here Rogan. You get a seat too.

This is why I love Jon Jones. He seems not to give any fucks about Dana's money. When he wants to fight, he fights. When he doesn't, he just simply doesn't. All the kicking and screaming and tantrums in the world don't phase him. He just states his intentions and moves the hell on. He knows that the fans want to see him fight and Dana will get his cash, but they are on his time, he isn't on theirs. Hell, when he decided not to fight Sonnen the first time as a replacement for an injured Dan Henderson (with three days notice I might add) they had to cancel UFC 151 and Dana about threw a rod, but he also went and sat the hell down too so, yeah there's that. Oh and quadruple fuck Chael Sonnen for 1. Still being on my GD TV and running your mouth unabated like a broken faucet about any and everything. 2. Fighting Rashad Evans after promising me and the world that he was retiring after the Jones fight. 3. For being a generally devious and unscrupulous steroid using, right-wing con-man bigot and 4. Simply because I don't like your face.

Okay on to other stuff. Job two is giving me all kinds of access to people watching. We all know how much I love that. The folks there are really nice (no I am not gonna tell you what I do there) and come from all walks of life. I have decided that I secretly love hipsters and saying that disqualifies me from being one. They are so cute with their sleeve tattoos of old box fans and vintage cameras, epic beards and PBR (or natty boh if you know, Baltimore). This job really seems to attract them so I get to see all sorts of fun stuff. Just last week a small wide-eyed 20 something rolled in wearing an ironic raspberry beret with Warby Parker's on, a green gingham skirt and floral track jacket. Like Fuck! Why can't I be fun? I mean picture how adorbs me and the fiancé would be? He in his suspendered slacks and tucked in white tank top with newsboy cap and handlebar mustache a la 30's Strongman. Me in my thrift store cardigan over my Atticus Finch tee and rockabilly jeans with navy and brown oxfords. Hair in a messy bun. Standard wayfarer's of course. Ugh I could totally pull it off right and not look like an ass at....38? Fuck. Lets move on.

Last but not least. Last week was long and difficult but I did learn something very valuable. When driving your fiance around in his truck, and all he wants to do is listen to Eminem's MM2 album, you might have difficulty being a nice person. Not cause the lyrics are road rage inducing. Naww, that ain't it. Not at all. I used to love Eminem. Still do honestly. Still rocking the first MM in my car right now. Still listen to D12s old stuff, still run to Renegade weekly. Everyone was siced about the new album release but me? Not so much. In fact, I haven't liked anything he has done since Encore. Even then I was like "Eh what's all this singing about?" but I let it slide. Now I just flat out cant stand it. The music itself sounds dated. The topics are all still the same. Your ex, your mom, your kid, ICP, pop singers, gay slurs, blah blah blah. I mean is there something else you can be mad at or talk about? My buddy Rachel and I talked about this a few weeks ago. Its the same shit, just repackaged. That and why lord do you have to have a singer on every track? What the hell is that even about? I liked it when you used to just rap. Shoot, I don't even care if YOU sing on your track. Just don't enlist some woman to do it. No Rhianna's, Skylar Greys, Dido's, Pink's or whomever. Please. I like you I really do. Always have. But this sing-songy 2002-esque crap is killing me. I know you are 41, but if Jay can find new shit to talk about (and he is damn near 45) so can you. Just do better.

Christmas is around the corner and my list is no where close to being accomplished. I feel like this is going to be a gift card Christmas for sure. It wont matter. I am studying for a huge test over the holidays anyway so its not like I will have a ton of time to engage in forced conviviality. I am however back on sweet potato duty. You knew it was too good to last didn't you? Anyway, the fam will be fine. They will get their gift card, I get my wine. Everyone is happy.

TUF: Episode 8

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Thu, 31 Oct 2013 02:18:00 +0000

So I come in as Bollinger is basically breaking from trying to cut weight. Come on son, I need you to put foot to ass with the Gutierrez kid and how the fuck you posed to do that crying in a corner at 140 lbs. seriously I've been waiting all season to watch Gutierrez get beat. Now Raquel is trying to convince him to continue. So Bollinger quits. Dana calls a meeting. So you mean no one is gonna punch Gutierrez in the face tonight? Weak sauce man. Dana is hot. He throws Cody out and not for nothing, Anthony is a pound off too. Oh fuck the crying. You weren't crying when you decided to eat all that crap. So now that the commission is the deciding authority on what happens with Gutierrez.

Ronda seems unreasonable this week. As much as it pains me to agree with Tate there really wasn't anything she could have done to make Cody cut weight or not quit. Turns out Anthony has a choice. Cut weight again in a few days and fight Chris Beal or take the forefit and move on to the next round. Of course he takes the move on card. Dana's face is tight as fuck tonight. We move on to the Moras Vs Morgan fight. Sarah is one tough chick but she is a ground game girl and Peggy is all about hands. She already said she will try to keep the fight standing which is always a bad move. This whole season has been like this. Grappler vs Striker. I can dig it. We all have our comfort zones but no fighter can just be one style.

Morgan is tall as a tree and lanky as hell. She is also a college professor. Who knew. Ronda is concerned about her takedown defense on the cage. The height and reach stats are so disproportionate for these two. Sara is 5'6 and Peggy is 6'1. I love Sarah but she is shaped like a dumpling. I hate to say that in my current physical state but it's true. Of course we know this means nothing in the ring but it's an accurate observation. Fight starts and Moras is getting in close. She has an odd flatfoot work. It looks stilted. The first takedown attempt by Moras failed. But the seconding was successful. Moras is in there like swimwear and gets the armbar. Peggy never saw it coming. Anyway. I guess we are on to the semifinals next week. Should be interesting.

It Wont Stop

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Thu, 24 Oct 2013 20:02:00 +0000

No TUF update this week. We got some recap nonsense last night that I didn't need to see instead of the Gutierrez/Bollinger fight. Oh well. On to other topics. I was talking to someone about how difficult it is to lie convincingly for some folks. There is some workplace trickery going on around here that makes me wonder sometimes if they really think that the client is stupid. Not anyone in particular, I am just saying its very interesting to see folks try to BS their way through something and get royally called on it. I am one of those folks who can sense when folks are lying most of the time. Whether it be direct or by omission, I can always tell when something is up.

Case in point, folks have a tendency to forget what they lied about. Don't tell me something completely fabricated and then when I ask you about it later you go completely stiff and forget what the hell I am asking you about. That is a dead damn give away. Another example is when folks are pretending with their true feelings. This right here I am not good at. I have no poker face when it comes to whether or not I fuck with you or not. This is why when phonies come around or people I just generally dislike, I don't spend my time attempting to convince them that I like them or that I care about what it is they are doing. I am transparent, and pretty sarcastic when I see them, so if I really don't want to offend I just steer clear of them.

My stepbrother is a good example. I cant stand his ass and he knows it. I make myself say hello with as much grace as I can and then I don't speak to him again for the rest of the visit. Its better that way for both of us. On the flip, I am sure there are folks who don't fuck with me either, but smiling in my face or pretending to give a shit about my innermost thoughts and feelings isn't doing a damn thing for either of us. I already know you don't give a fuck, and continuing to keep pretending just makes me irritated. I am not an idiot or a child, and blowing smoke up my ass is patronizing.

This is why I wish folks would just be real or go the fuck away. Do me a favor, when our time is up and we have nothing else to say to each other, can you please just go the hell on? Kick rocks and beat feet down the lane. I wont even be mad about it I swear. You arent going to hurt my feelings if you get ghost, just don't keep hanging around...talking to me or asking me stupid ass questions cause that I cant stand. In the words of Big Pun "Go that wayyyy". If you got what you came for do me a favor and bounce.

Outside of that I have been reworking my book. I think I finally know what to concentrate on and what about it is important. Sure its only taken me 20 years but whatever, I had real shit going on. I gotta plan a wedding! I am still working out the details. It looks like we have come up with a better venue and a possible date. I don't want anything in stone right now as this shutdown shit has made money real funny in our household and I don't want to promise that cash to someone if I need it. I am sure it will work out just fine.

In addition, because I struggle with not knowing when to stop piling on, I have decided that what I really need to do in addition to my 40 hour a week job is take on part-time employment. Since I didn't (read: couldn't) go back to school this semester I decided that getting paper was a good idea. For those of you that know me, this is not a new scenario. I don't sit still well, so getting off work to come home and either watch TV or cook dinner seems way more stressful to me than writing a paper or working. I have always either had two jobs or one job and school so its far from unfamiliar. This gig is a sweet one too, so I have zero qualms about adding a few more hours to my evening. Now, sadly it does cut into my workout time, but I can just push that stuff to the ends of the week. I can always run on the hamster wheel and Zumba and BJJ are both offered plenty of times during the week.

Headed to see Fiona Apple tomorrow with my Pisces sister from another mother Rachel. I am so geeked to go. We finally got a chance to hang out after eons of not seeing each other and as true Pisces do we laughed and drank wine and played Just Dance lol. Yes I am grown and I still kicked ass at Janelle Monet's Tightrope and Apache's Jump On It. I got the new one last week and its time to have fun. Anyway, recap next week people.

TUF: Episode 7

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Thu, 17 Oct 2013 19:42:00 +0000

True story I missed the first 25 min of TUF talking to my fiancé about the worst boss I ever had. Anyway I came in just as Hill and Wooten were entering the ring so this review will be MAD short. For the record the Wooten kid did not impress me. Mainly cause of his lack of energy, enthusiasm and participation in the first fight. He's under the Hill kid about to be choked out 2 min into the first round and he's gasping for air like a fish on land. He escapes a submission attempt but trust me he is not in control of this fight. This kid gives his back more than a hooker. He defends take downs okay but in general he isn't great. I am saddened when I realize there will be a round two.

We go to commercial and despite my assertion that I would not do arms last week I did them anyway. Tonight is another story. 2 hours of Zumba with weights is not making me feel happy about extra arms tonight.

Somewhere during the intermission someone lit a fire under the Wooten kid. He comes out aggressive and spend 2 min on the mat on top of Hill. Of course the balance of power changes and Hill has him up against the cage again. Hill executes closed guard from a standing positing and takes Wooten down. Suddenly Wooten has his back. It doesn't last. Ugh I hate this fight. Seriously I coulda had a V8. The fight goes to 3 and all I can think about is sleeping.

I succumbed to a little arm work and I get up to get the kettlebell during the next commercial out of guilt.. Sue me. All the corner help in the world can't save this here fight. It blows and neither guy is going to choke, tap or submit the other. Not in a good way like last week in a bad way like WTF.

Almost 4 min have passed and I am thinking about what I should wear to work tomorrow. The foolishness of this fight is just too much for me. Wooten and Hill evenly matched losers. Of course it goes to decision. Yawn worthy win by some miracle Wooten wins. Miesha comes over for some fake congratulatory nonsense and Ronda deflects. She shakes Hills hand but not Tate. Eh, I get it. So last women's fight is gonna be Peggy and Sara. Two big redheads and Cody and Anthony and I want Gutierrez to lose. I have been extra sick of his face and I am hoping Cody puts it to him.

TUF: Episode 6

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Sat, 12 Oct 2013 17:25:00 +0000

The big fight that we have all been waiting on since the first night is here Raquel Pennington and Jessamyn Duke are finally gonna go. Tate is having some sort of pow wow prayer circle for Pennington and Pena has decided folks need makeovers. Pennington and Moras are selected as guinea pigs. They look terrible dolled up honestly. Square and in heels and just wrong. Pennington is talking about her coming out and how difficult it was. She seems to have struggled with it but seems a lot more settled and happy doing what she loves and being the person she is. When it comes time for training I give Raquel strength and speed but Jessamyn is no bullshit and she would be a fool to underestimate her.

Off to the break and no arms tonight. Two straight hours of Zumba fried me so fuck arm work tonight. True story I am gonna regret that tomorrow.

The group heads off to green Valley Ranch resort and spa for a little break which means assless Hooters girls and a pool party with food. Raquel is there but not eating. Jessamyn didn't even go. She was on some "any other fight any other time". Mother bitch, here comes Gutierrez again. You know he is happy about food and no ass. Gutierrez is acting a whole drunk fool as usual. He is totally fucking with Raquel and she does not appreciate that shit. Period. So early the next morning they fuck with him and dump him out of his bed. Good show ladies.

The fight starts and they make it through round one and they both spent time swinging for the fences. You can tell Jessamyn is all Muy Thai and Raquel is all boxing. No mat action whatsoever. Jessamyn managed to get a decent choke early but couldn't finish.

Round two starts and they come out fast and furious as round one. There are some serious strikes thrown and it looks like Raquel is getting the best of Jessamyn. The round ends and they go to three. First time in this season. Jessamyn is rocked but still fighting. Raquel looks untouched and still fresh. How they managed to go three full rounds is beyond me. I didn't expect a decision. In the end Baszler is right from the outside the fight seemed dead even but the judges scored all three rounds for Raquel. Well deserved win, and honestly Jessamyn shouldn't be upset. She fought like a damn champ. So the next fight is Josh Hill vs.Michael Wooten. I hope that Wooten boy fights better than he did the first time. Dana was ready to throw him off the show and that is never a good look.

TUF: Episode 5

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Wed, 09 Oct 2013 17:06:00 +0000

I know I know, late and wrong. I don't know what is with me and my timing but I somehow managed to miss the first five minutes of this week's episode too. I gotta get it together. Anyway, this week's drama is brought to you courtesy of the Grant/Fisette fight. Two guys involved in the most friendly bromance I have seen in a while. They are roommates and buddies and they laugh and joke and friend it up which I am sure is gonna make for an uncomfortable fight.

I keep forgetting that these kids are tremendously bored. There is nothing to do in the house but eat and pick on each other. Raquel tells the story of her coming out to her family to the girls in the house. I don't know why but I felt like there was some editing there. I will tell you why later. So, they are all dicking around outside playing truth or dare and somehow Gutierrez gets in on the mix. Possibly because Sarah Moras deemed him best looking in the house. Uggh okay kids whatever. So this gives him license to come out and run his trap. First thing he does is choose truth and when they ask who he thinks is the weakest link in the house he picks Fisette. Not that I don't agree, because out of everyone in the house Fisette is the only one who didn't get there by winning his fight. He was actually submitted by Holdsworth, but when Corwin got sent home, he got the opportunity to come back. Fair enough. Oh and Roxanne is probably the funniest person in the house. Bollinger picked dare, and they send him upstairs to use a cheesy pickup line on her. I don't even know what he said but she seemed wise to his game when he walked in. She is just minding her business and writing her Japanese blog (I know, I think she is magical too) Her response? "You couldn't handle all of this" which I think is hilarious.

Training sessions start and we get to see Fisette in action with Caraway. He has what he thinks is a foolproof strategy to win against Grant. Noticing that he doesn't really stand still and trade punches (because that shit is stupid and guaranteed to get you a nap on the mat) he intends to get in close. Okay chief, if that's what works for you. The other team has the esteemed pleasure of meeting Ronda's mom former judo champion Anna Maria DeMars. One very intense, very quick lady with a whole lot to say. Ronda put it best when she said that she thought people would understand her better once they met her mother. I get it. BTW I don't subscribe to that whole Ronda is a bitch deal. Sure, she might be but first and foremost she is there to win. She is serious and all that jokey shit is lost on her. Ms. DeMars for her part takes the time to watch each fighters technique before offering any criticism and then proceeds to execute one of the fastest armbars I have ever seen in a tank top and jeans. Wow. Ronda explains a little about having to fight people who were clearly better or fight injured because her mother wanted her to understand how important her training and preparedness was. It seems to still be a point of contention for her, but I get it.

Ms. DeMars comes back to the house and gets the opportunity to chat with Grant about his two boys. She asks if they were there would an opponent have any way to stop him. Of course he says no, and that right there sets the tone as far as I am concerned about what is bout to happen next. Long story short they both make weight, despite the fact that Grant has a ton to drop and everyone in the house has been eating like pigs at a trough. Its just flat out ridiculous what they are eating. Anyway, somewhere in the mix Miesha the voice of reason and good decide that what would really go along way to make things better between the teams is to sneak into the Rousey camp and leave Edmond Tarverdyan a figurine of the The Count from Sesame Street because they think he looks like him. They also add an eyebrow waxing coupon for his unibrow. Good thing Ronda and her mother see it first, cause she is convinced that "joke" wont me met with lightheartedness and hides it from him.

On to the fight. All that "get in close" crap did not help Fisette at all and even though it went to round two, Fisette couldn't hold Grant off or even come up for air IMO and he was defeated by rear naked choke in Round 2. Ronda announced the next fight, Duke vs. Pennington and I am guessing its going to be a brawl. Both these women have a rack of go hard and very little quit in them. Should be really damn interesting.

TUF: Episode 4

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Fri, 27 Sep 2013 15:45:00 +0000

Somehow, between live blogging from my phone and editing today I lost more than half of this review. To say that I am pissed is an understatement I can’t with this thing. Let’s move on. I got tangled in the season premiere of Law and Order SVU so I missed the mess with the guest coach Dennis Hallman. I don’t know if Tate sent him in there to stir shit up or not but I know that Edmond Tarverdyan wasn’t here for it, and apparently there was some posturing and challenge to fight. Rousey figured it was an attempt to get Taverdyan kicked off so she intervened. I hear there was some additional BS about the Caraway Twitter thing that Dana had to get involve in. Who knows man, just when I was going to say it was a drama free episode.

This week the house is happy. The girls on team Tate are getting the opportunity to actually spar with the guys. Sarah Moras says this is what she is used to, and she doesn’t hold back. Bollinger and Fissete don’t either, although they both seem uncomfortable going at 100% with the women.

Okay, here is my two cents on that. My fiancé and I have talked about this at length, and while I agree that most men are stronger I don’t see why a woman can’t roll or spar with a man at 100% if she is a trained professional fighter. There is a blue belt chick at my school who is nothin but go hard. I have rolled with guys at I would say 60% and if I were better trained, better conditioned and more than a white belt, I would be happy to get in there and mix it up with them. What better way to find out what you can and can’t tolerate as a fighter. Look, when those women come for you in the ring they aren’t going to hold back, so what’s the big damn deal? My fiancé of course disagrees. Whatever...

There's nothing but happy Warrior Roxanne Moldifari who is clearly my spirit animal and possibly my son's real mother. She is fun and funny and a happy person who loves Anime and Jiu Jitsu and her crocodile socks and fun facts like the fact that the act of smiling actually releases chemicals that make you feel more positive. She loves Nerf guns and the guys love her and the girls think she's awesome. She actually fought Baszler in Japan back in the day. Baszler has a ton of respect for her. She is seriously happy on the mat and apparently she is versed in Taekwondo, Judo and Jiu Jitsu. She is not to be toyed with. Unless she is playing with a Nerf gun of course.

Then we totally flip the script to Jessica Rakoczy who is telling the horrific story about her shitty abusive stepdad (who they imply killed her mother). She started boxing to get her anger under control. At 36 she is the oldest fighter in the house and a world title boxer. She looks like she's seen a very hard very long life. This is a classic grappler vs. striker bout.

Just before the fight Roxy gets a note from Pena and I think it's just known that Pena gives notes of encouragement to the fighters on her team so maybe Holdsworth shouldn't feel so effing special. Jessica is fighting for a secure future for her little boy. She tears up every time she mentions him. It's beyond personal for her.

Know what? I am still sort of angry about losing my post so let me just cut to the chase. First round Jessica spent getting out of some serious submission attempts. Second round she caught Roxy with some fast strikes and managed to get the TKO. Of course Rox wasn’t happy and Baszler felt her pain. Jessica lives to fight another day and Rousey gets her first win.

Next up are Fissette and Grant who are best buddies and roommates. I don’t know if they are going to make this fight interesting for me but we will see. Seriously I am blown about this review. I had a ton of really pertinent observations and stuff that I can only write while in the moment. Anyway, I hope next week is better and Blogger doesn’t eat my post.

TUF Episode 3

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Wed, 25 Sep 2013 16:44:00 +0000

Yeah I know, I am a week late but I got super busy with some real life shit and couldn't seem to edit and post this thing. Anyway, for those who care lets recap.

Baszler/Pena is over and even though Rousey is still pissed, Tate returns to the house with a milkshake for Pena and cake for Baszler. I still cant tell if Miesha is this caring coach or she is trolling us. In the words of El Debarge, time will reveal. Pena is floating around the house on cloud nine and as such she is sporting a British accent. The guys seem irritated by the faux accent she is rocking. Particularly Gutierrez. I don't know if I would dig it but dude is an ass.

So, Rousey still seems really obsessed with the Tate thing. She immediately gives a speech before practice about wining and losing and growing and maintaining. It's directed at Beal cause we all know he is hurt and despite the jacked hand "Crazy Eyes" is definitely game to fight Holdsworth. I am not however digging his need to keep this a standup fight. I don't know how confident he is with his Jiu Jitsu but its gonna take more than some boxing with a busted hand to win.

So now the guys on team Tate (lead by Bollinger) are accusing Julianna of telling team Rousey about the intended girls match ups. First they tell Tate, then they confront Pena directly. It makes sense since Pena's already fought and she immediately deflected to Roxanne but I cant figure out how she would even know and the guys don't have proof. Pena isn't budging.

Holdsworth tells the story of his black belt brother that passed. So far I can't tell who is going to win from the taping but that may change. These kids are already experiencing some serious ass withdrawal. Its only a few weeks in yet they stay trying to hook up. Could y'all focus on the fighting please? I bet if you win there will be plenty of stray ass at your disposal.

The girls on Team Rousey are now chatting about the "leak" and it turns out that the supposed list leak went to Jessamyn but she tells her team that she doesn't have a clue who they are matching. She also tells them that Bollinger told her that even if she doesn't know, it gives him an opportunity to go on Pena. SMH, y'all stay with the secondary BS don't you?

Beal tells the story about his cancer battle and he too has a brother he lost to gun violence. He wants this fight and he is cool and confident but so is Holdsworth. I am gonna go on record and say this is a boring episode. There is a lot of internal BS going on in the house and very little focus on the training.

I guess cabin fever has gotten the better of both teams (or its a calculated reality TV set up) and they all go to Red Rock and have a party. Rousey takes this opportunity to stir the pot and comes to stand a little to close to Tate's boyfriend. Now they are beefing, something about Rousey not being able to hit pads or even throw punches. Rousey sidebars to a discussion about her respect for Tate as a fighter but how she has zero fucks to give for either she or Caraway personally. This particular incident is fueled by the fact that Tate's man Caraway tweeted something about breaking Rousey's teeth out of her mouth on Twitter the night before their title fight. Edmond Tarverdyan is NOT about that life and he tells him that too. It didn't escalate, mainly because Caraway is apologetic about the tweet but make no mistake Tarverdyan wants to kill him. Tate sits back and says that since it happened so long ago and Caraway apologized, she should drop it. I don't agree with the tweet, but I do feel like Rousey has to get out of her feelings about that. Its just giving Tate what she needs to keep winning.

So the team Tate dudes, egged on by Gutierrez are having a ball with a letter that Pena wrote to Holdsworth. He is clearly DTF but shouldn't he be worried about the fight? FOH people. Fight first, genitals later.
I am starting to feel like Beal is letting his mouth is write a check his ass can't cash. Seriously, this Chris vs Chris fight has me vexed. Beal is doing his rendition of "started from the bottom" and Holdsworth is on some "if you can dream it you can achieve it." Hell I don't know which one of you is gonna take it.

Round one. First whole minute they test each other. Holdsworth gets Beal down but not for long. Kid is elusive and he knows the mat isn't his friend. Midway through the round Holdsworth sticks Beal one good time with a straight right and he drops. Gave him the opportunity to submit the kid and hands Rousey her second team loss. Beal is crushed. Again, I am not totally surprised. I wasnt digging his complete lack of ground game and intense fear of the mat. Where is your Jiu Jistu honey? Anyway, this loss Rousey takes in stride (or at least that's the face the camera was shown, and the next fight is called up. Tate picks Nerdy Ninja Roxanne Modafferi to fight Singlemomanator Jessica Rakoczy. Something tells me this fight is going to be hard won and super emotional.

TUF Rousey / Tate: Episode 2

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Thu, 12 Sep 2013 23:04:00 +0000

Week two starts with the fighters getting comfy in the house. Some folks are all about business and others are like party time! Gutierrez is doing the most with his "she wants me, and she wants me" routine. No one is here for all that pal. Have a seat.

There is already a discussion about whether or not the guys should roll with the girls at 100%. Tim Gorman is representing in classic jack hole fashion. He set me wrong when he referred to them as females so already he isn't my favorite. Shayna Baszler seems particularly incensed by his cave man bullshit especially because she is a contender, 10 years in, wrestling family, yeah girl we know. Here comes the obligatory chat about the first fight, and as much as I like Julianna she seems shook about it. Oh, and Tate brought her damn boyfriend. He apparently is a part of the coaching staff. So while Tate has the gym she notices that Tim Gorman is struggling. He states that he has a MFing torn hamstring. Seriously dude you wanted to act like you were too tough to roll with Baszler? Fuck outta here.

6pm rolls around and Rousey is marching in evicting folks. Tate seems annoyed by Rousey coming into the gym with her people loud and wrong but Rousey states off set that its basically psychological warfare. She also says that it's easy to be responsible for herself and fail, but letting her team down is her greatest fear.

Of course we are back to watching Shayna and I am already tired of her bragging. Confidence is one thing. The constant shit talking is another and the Rousey team girls are just gassing her. This " doesn't deserve to breathe the same air and shes not the one" shit is tiresome. I still think she will win it, her striking is good, her Jiu Jitsu is stellar but I am not digging how they are so focused on her bragging. It's like foreshadowing and TUF is good for that. It would be just like Dana to get the #1 contender, coached by Rousey knocked off in week two. Commercial break and since this show has me hyped I dubbed TUF night as arm night. I have a fancy new 15lb kettlebell and a new compression sleeve.

So after the break Dana states that an MRI shows that Gorman has a detached muscle, not your average hamstring injury and he is being sent home. They bring back Fissette who was good but not great. Ehh we will see how it goes. We are now at the weigh in and Baszler is up to some swagger BS with her nickname card trick garbage. Didn't look like Rousey found it funny. How these folks are fighting at 135 is just astonishing to me. Like I would need an intravenous drip and a gurney. Once, as an adult human I was 140lbs and I looked like a bobble head doll. The idea of fighting someone at 5 lbs lighter than that is unfathomable.

So Baszler is now getting her hair cornrowed. I didn't realize they had an on site hair braider. Where the do that at and what does that pay? Chatter chatter more constant talk about how she is gonna win. Honestly, I now think Juliana is gonna win and now Ronda has bought into this BS. Jesus...can we get on with the fight?

Here we go, two five minute rounds. They touch gloves and Mazzagotti gets them rolling. Pena looks good and massively underestimated. Early in Baszler gets a weak rear naked choke but Pena gets out. This fight is gonna be on the mat, trust me. Baszler has some great submission attempts all of which Pena gets out of. I still feel like she wasn't bargaining for this much of a fight. She IS the queen of side control though. Not so sure about spades. GSP commercial and more arms for me. I mean what else am I gonna do?

Round two starts and since the girls were all "oh how early in round 1 are you gonna snuff Pena out" all that tough talk is gone. Pena seems gassed but she is NOT giving up. She is swinging for the fences and fighting like her life depends upon it, which honestly with Baszler, it might. Baszler is still built Ford tough cause she is eating some heavy hits early in the round. She definitely has a chin then oops, Shana just eats a knee and her nose is pouring and now she is in a very unenviable position a very deep rear naked choke. Hooks in...and she taps. Wow. So, I called this right?

Tate is siced, Rousey is blown and Dana is pleased as punch (of course) and Baszler is crushed. I don't think this one fight is enough to tarnish her rep, I mean anyone can have a bad match. Happens to the best of them. Rousey is sick with grief and takes Tate's celebration as a pointed jab at Shayna's loss. She is NOT happy, and she lets Tate know. Tate picks the second fight and its Holdsworth/Beal but honestly only cause Beal's hand is hurt. It's strategic but its a sucka ass move and Ronda is even more irritated. Previews do NOT look pleasant. Good shit people!

Just An Observation

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Sun, 08 Sep 2013 17:18:00 +0000

People, if you have sons please don't raise them to be gumps and suckas. Bitchmade grown ass men are in vast abundance and there seems to be no end to this disturbing trend. Don't send these sad bastards out into the world to be dealt with by real women. We don't need that shit. We have our own problems. Stop encouraging this nonsense and stop coddling these jokes. Do better. Its embarrassing to watch and even worse to have to put up with. If you have the misfortune of marrying one of these clowns I feel for you. I don't know how some of you women deal with it. If you are one of these fail men do yourself a favor and either grow a pair, or kill yourself. Happy Sunday!

The Ultimate Fighter Rousey vs. Tate

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Thu, 05 Sep 2013 18:36:00 +0000

Finally, a season worth talking about. So last night was the premier of The Ultimate Fighter - Rousey vs. Tate. I think they stopped numbering these things once they had more than one in a year's time. No matter, let’s get on to the good stuff. First, if you don’t know Ronda Rousey, Current UFC Women's Bantamweight Champion and the first American woman to medal in Judo (at the 2008 Olympics in Beijing, China) is undefeated and one of this year's coaches. A woman after my own heart (who loves food, men and violence) is the seed of a world champion Judoka momma who woke her every morning attempting to put her into an arm bar. The arm bar coincidentally is how she wins all her matches, normally in the first round. She makes it look effortless, and trust me it isn’t.

Her coaching counterpart is non-other than Miesha Tate. Now I don’t know a whole lot about Miesha except that she and Ronda hate each other on a personal level and that her record consists of some pretty telling losses in her Strikeforce days. One to Rousey of course where she was defeated by first round armbar which dislocated Tate's elbow and Rousey became the Strikeforce Women's Bantamweight Champion. Another recent loss to Cat Zingano (who is also undefeated and was initially supposed to be the other coach but had to bow out due to injury) and two others a few years back. However, with a pool of professional women’s fighters that small, they have fought basically the same women in their careers. Enough of all that, let’s get to the tea.

So, Ronda walks in to survey the gym and here comes Tate. Ronda is VISIBLY pissed off and goes looking for Dana to clear up what the hell is going on. Dana explains the whole Zingano debacle and coincidentally looks like he is enjoying having these two boost ratings a little too much. If it weren’t for the fact that they could prove that Zingano was injured I would swear he did this on purpose. Honestly, I can hear the cash register in the background. So once Ronda comes to terms with this little surprise, they are off and running.

They introduce the first fighters and Miesha is just a running damn commentary at the desk with Dana. Cosign Tate is her new name. Ronda doesn’t even engage in conversation…yet. So first up is Jessamyn Duke a really thin, really tall Kentucky girl who apparently did some modeling prior to answering her calling to MMA. This little country chick is scrappy, and her legs are crazy long. In fact, I had never seen someone use their legs to deepen their hold (other when going for a triangle) on the ground. I immediately dub her Pennsyltucky. She defeats the British Laura Howarth by triangle choke (you are shocked, I know) in the first round.

Next up, David Grant and Danny Martinez. Grant can’t seem to keep from engaging in illegal strikes and Martinez can’t seem to stay upright. Grant wins by armbar in the second round.

Moving on, they profile Revelina Berto (of the fighting Berto’s apparently) who comes from a long line of fighting brothers sisters, dad, aunts, uncles and family pets. My first thought (I hope she wins cause if not this is gonna be embarrassing). She is up against Jessica Rakoczy who is no spring chicken and is attempting to get whoever is keeping her little biracial son to put him on the phone. No dice, kid isn’t interested. She looks like she wants to cry every time she mentions the kid. Could be fuel, could be a problem. They get in the ring and Rakoczy gets out of several really decent submission attempts and goes on to put Berto in the oddest and probably most painful omoplata. Rakoczy wins

Then there was a three round fight that went to decision with two guys where my best friend said “Send them both home”. Michael Wootten and Emil Hartsner poked, slapped at and generally danced each other around the octagon for 9 damn minutes. Dana looked like “how did these two clowns get in here”. Wootten won (if you can call it that) but I still maintain that 135 is super small for a man and they were doing zero damage to each other being that both were so comically inept and light in the ass. Hell I think 135 is small for a woman, but what do I know.

There was Peggy Morgan who defeated Bethany Marshall by TKO in the first round. Somehow I don’t really recall this fight. I could have still been in REM sleep from the previous bout, but nothing stood out to me as memorable this morning when I saw that Peggy had been picked by Team Rousey.

Another scrappy wtf moment came from nerd extraordinaire Roxanne Modafferi. Doofy super spazz that she is, she is still more go hard than those two dudes I mentioned earlier and she went on to beat Valerie Letourneau (any relation to Mary Kay?) by rear-naked choke in the first round. Chick was all over the place, but scared she is not.

Raquel Pennington who looks like one of the cautionary broads on Beyond Scared Straight defeated Tonya Evinger. For her part, Tate decided to comment that Evinger had drama going on with her girlfriend, so she didn’t see her winning. She was right, but damn why did everyone need to know that?

Chris Beal who I think I like a whole lot defeated Sirwan Kakai by decision. Something about that guy seems dangerous. That and the fact that he managed to beat leg cancer and get back in the ring in less than a year. I will go on record to say that I think he will win one of Dana’s $25,000 for Knockout of the Season, Submission of the Season and Fight of the Season challenges. Also, he reminds me of Crazy Eyes from Orange is the New Black, so if I refer to him as such, you know why.

Last up before my workout caught up with me was Shayna Baszler. I still don’t know what to think about her. She has a lot of heart, a lot of mouth, and according to Dana folks think that she is the one to beat. She is certainly built Ford tough, but since she is the very first fight of the season this year and she beat Colleen Schneider in a first round armbar, I am really interested to see what happens. That and she has gone on record to brag about her 10 year career and that she is doing this to be able to beat Ronda. I like your spunk chica but good luck with that. Oh and you should dial it back a notch since you are on Ronda’s team.

Then there were some other fights I didn’t care about. Tim Gorman and Lee Sandmeier two Iowa boys duked it out. That one went to Gorman. I passed out before I could catch the others. So, this morning I watched the replay of Rousey and Tate picking their teams.

Tate got current teammate Julianna Pena, Sarah Moras, Raquel Pennington and Roxanne Modafferi as well as Cody Bollinger, Chris Holdsworth, Josh Hill and Tim Gorman. Rousey picked up Shayna Baszler, Jessamyn Duke, Peggy Morgan and Jessica Rakoczy in the women’s group and Chris Beal, David Grant, Anthony Gutierrez and Michael Wootten for the men.

Some folks were happy, some less than. That Gorman cat was like “Who is Tate anyway” and he wound up being last pick on her team. So, there’s that already. I can’t wait to see how the season shakes out. I am always fascinated by the juxtaposition of amazing fighters to coaching skill. The two are definitely not correlated as we saw last season with the Jones vs. Sonnen TUF. Just because you kick ass doesn’t mean you can teach others.

Tightrope

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Sat, 10 Aug 2013 22:57:00 +0000

It's been a crazy week to say the absolute least. Between the anxiety insomnia and general unpleasantness of work stress I still managed to do the following:

Have brunch with my homegirl after canceling several previous attempts to get together over the last 9 months. We decided to meet up at Jackson 20 in Alexandria. The drinks were awesome, the food was ehh. Oh and if you go skip the cheese grits. Those jokers were gray. The atmosphere would have been cool has there not been a loud ass party of 12 acting a whole fool behind us. It's noon people. I try not to be hood before 3pm, I suggest you try it too.

Next up was the JT and Jay Z Suit and Tie concert in Baltimore. Not only did it take us forever to get there, but we parked so far from the stadium that it took another 20 min just to walk there. Had I know we would be parking in fucking Fells Point I would have skipped my 4 mile run that morning.The concert however was amazing. It was probably the best arranged, most organized show I have ever been to. The sound was great, the performances flowed and a good time was had by all. We weren't close to the stage but just judging by the photos some of my friends took from their seats I actually got us some damn good ones. It even rained during Cry Me a River (as if on cue) and we didn't care. I sang, I danced, I bounced and twerked and rapped every lyric to Tom Ford. We even made a friend or two. Of course it took a lifetime to get home but it was worth it. I am hoping when I take mom to see Beyonce in December we have a similar experiance.

Last night Erica and I went to Rogue 24 which is a very high end journey into molecular gastronomy. It was fan-fucking-tastic. We did chose the premium wine paring package and were bombed when we left. Seriously we stumbled down Blagden Alley and over to Mt. Vernon Square giggling in our sandals and sundresses drunk and full. Thank god for Metro or I would have been fly as hell with the Feds watching (2 Chainz) cause I was too done to drive.

Today I made the most kick ass potato salad to go with the salmon cakes that I have been procrastinating about making. Two kinds of potatoes, fennel, kosher dill pickles, onion and procciuto with a lemon-dijon dill aoli. In the words of a friend of mine "It's official". I definitely don't want to see any more wine till next week. Just the thought is making me get another glass of water. There were 4 wines and a digestivo (that I am tempted to call and identify) so i am liquored out. mental note: at some point I am going to have to get to those salmon cakes.

Oh and one last thing. I fucking wigged out this week cause my feelings were hurt (I mean really girl, how old are you 12?). Fun tip, if you ever want to argue that you aren't crazy with someone, the last thing you should do is come completely unglued on them like an escaped mental patient. I am glad to know that the person who was on the receiving end of my unhinged ass rant didn't just write my crazy black ass off.

It was a misunderstanding (read: I am an oversensitive asshole) and now I feel like a jerk. My anxiety kicked into high gear and I just melted the fuck down. I am aready a damn bundle of sleep deprived nerves navigating uncharted territory and if I am honest, I am aware of why it happened. However, it warrants further introspection and probably an additional apology.

No, seriously, they should up my dosage...

Every Single Night

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Wed, 07 Aug 2013 02:34:00 +0000

My need to do anything other than clean or work has me channel surfing like a mad woman and lately this is all I do. I like things I can sort of half watch as I cook and drink or drink and cook or run on the hamster wheel before I cook.

I don't think I have ever mentioned my inordinate love for Robert Downey Jr. Random right? Well I am watching the Avengers again. Such a complicated attraction I know. He isn't everyone's cup of tea but something about that man does it for me. Ever since the first Ironman I have been blissfully crushing on him. How is it possible for an individual to get better looking as they age? I could say the same of El Debarge (sans drug addiction) who seems preserved. RDJ spent enough of his time drugged out of his mind and playing man-child for several decades so maybe that's the key (I will stick to broad spectrum sunblock and red wine thanks). Suddenly he's back at damn near 50 and he is gorgeous?

Now I am sure he is short which would cross him off all my potential fantasy man lists but occasionally a short man might sneak through. T.I. is super short, he could get the business. Mark Wahlberg has gotta be short and he too could get it twice on Sunday. RDJ is it for me though. Maybe it's the Tony Stark swagger and confidence? Who knows really. I try not to assess my attractions at this rate. There is very little rhyme or reason to them these days. I am damn near 40 and I appreciate a good looking man when I see one and honestly, what's wrong with that?

Housekeeping: I'm engaged (wedding is in 2014 people). Don't get sensitive if you aren't invited. We are broke and those procciuto wrapped asparagus aren't gonna pay for themselves. Next, I am a size 8 again. That's what the jeans say so I am gonna go with it. My hair is longer than it has been in two decades and its driving me nuts. Oh and I love Orange is the New Black on Netfilx. Watch it, seriously. I have more to say but I will just keep all that to myself right now. Expect all kinds of crazy updates soon.

I'm Different

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Fri, 14 Dec 2012 22:19:00 +0000

On the topic of Fuckshit, I have lost my entire mind. I have no clue why I decide to do the things I do, but one day I will either be too tired, too old or too smart to continue. I have finally (at damn near 40) embarking on the ambition of my life. A quest that I have thought about, occasionally bantered about in polite company and secretly desired since the first day I was introduced to it. What am I blathering on about exactly? I, in my infinite 40 hour a week, old, fat, 9 credit taking, college student mothering life am taking MMA classes. Oh and shut up about it, cause its a secret.

Let me just run the tape back for you. 10 years ago I got heavily interested in mixed martial arts without the help of a boyfriend, my son or anyone else. Just me and Pride and UFC. I watched fights, and shows on fights, and then I recognized fighters in obscure paces, and sold property to amateur fighters wanting to start gyms. Then I came here and started writing about them. Then I got my kid watching, and my dad watching and suddenly the guys I dated watched it too. Then I would say to myself "I sure wish I could do that." Me! You know, crazy violent and particularly nutty, tends to take on too much, just got over a serious ankle issue that required 8 weeks of PT. That's me. Not wishing to be able to run again. Wishing to have an actual shot at being a female MMA fighter. Cut to about three months ago, when I my daily LivingSocial deal flashes across my phone. I was pumping gas, or eating something unhealthy or what the fuck ever it is that I do on a weekend that I don't have a paper due, and low and behold my prayers were answered. It was an offer, for a months worth of classes at the local MMA gym for $25! I didn't breathe, I didn't think I just pressed BUY and then I proceeded to chide myself for even thinking that this body with the extra 40lbs strapped to it and the wacky ankle would be able to do anything as kick ass as Brazilian jujitsu...at 36.

I gotta say at that point I just tried to forget that I bought the damn thing. Maybe I would get up enough nerve to go before it expired, or maybe I wouldn't. Maybe I would go home and eat some more bread and gain 10 more lbs and drink another bottle of wine. You know, 40 year old shit, not 20 year old fuckshit like rolling around on the ground grappling with some other sweaty ass people half your age. Nawww I would just ride this one out till the expiration was gone. That was fine too, until one day I was at home, probably writing another godforsaken paper about Information Security or Information Technology, or Project Management in IT or IT ethics or some other fuckass topic that rules my entire existence when No Reservations came on the TV. Now, if you know me you know that the only think I like more than watching showes about food is eating said food. So I settled into page three of five and hear hustled while I typed. Then it happened, Tony Bourdain started discussing Rio, and how it was so beautiful and how his wife wasn't there to soak up the sun or lay on the beach. Nope, she was there to have a good old fashioned BJJ match. So I watched this tiny Italian woman who was sickly conditioned, and sparing like a champ and I knew right then and there that if I didn't give this a try now, I never would and I would ALWAYS be sorry I didn't. So the very next we hopped our asses in the car and went over there to see whether or not two decidedly fat, close to middle aged old birds would be laughed out of a respectable MMA gym or potentially be killed in the process. I also determined that if I really wanted to do this, that I better not tell anyone. Not my worry wart momma or my neurotic ass boyfriend. Erica and I made a pact, and went in.

It was uncomfortable, I wont lie. Even though those boys were as nice as pie, we were still two old fat ladies asking about classes. Not only that but one of us is a huge UFC Stan who is trying desperately not to look like a 13 year old girl at a Bieber concert. Of course I thought, we will find out some shit, think about coming to class and leave. I was wrong, they made me sign a waiver and then told us that we should come for the BJJ Fundamentals class on Sunday. Why did I feel like everyone was laughing at me? So we left, her freaked out, me embarrassed and we said we would come back Sunday. Sunday started strange. We ate, showered and then I proceeded to put on every article of workout clothing I owned. I had NO idea what this situation entailed. The schedule didn't say what I was supposed to wear. How much was I gonna be on the floor? Does that mean shorts? I only own one set of sweatpants that I just bought the week prior. What the hell have I gotten myself into? I came out of my bedroom in the following. Shorts, sweatpants, underwear, sports bra, tank top, tank top, *that's right two tank tops* t-shirt and hooded sweatshirt. It was 500 degrees in that getup and I looked insane, so I figured I better scale it back.

After removing about 4 layers we left for class. 4 bottles of water? Check. We should be fine. We walk in and meet Topaz. He doesn't look nearly as young as the dudes we saw Saturday so we relaxed a little. We introduce ourselves and immediately we have to start jogging. This for me is comedy, because in 3 months the best I have been able to accomplish is attending PT and walking slightly faster than a senior citizen. Okay, so I guess I am jogging. Leg feels strong, I feel good so far. Now I am doing something called Shrimping. Basically I am using one leg to propel myself up the mat. Sure I am slow but I think I am doing it right. There are more warm ups, more jogging. I am beginning to question my sanity when he tells us to sit. Now we are on to ab work and by abs, I mean the place where I used to have muscle. Something tells me that I am not going to feel good later but then, I catch my breath and I start doing moves and Topaz teaches us posture, and side guard and I am understanding now. Everything I have been watching for better than 10 years is starting to connect in my brain and even though every muscle I own has determined that I am a horrible bitch for subjecting it to this class, I am happy and so is Erica. We watch closely every move, and when Topaz instructs we follow intently. Furthermore, we didn't die!

So, class one became class two (where even the apple, redbull, GU and coconut water I had didn't keep me from almost passing out during the boxing portion) and that was mad painful and I still cant raise my arms properly, I still went to class last night and even though I thought I was going to choke in the 15 push up circle, I managed not to embarrass my fat ass in front of a class of 20 somethings and you know what? I am hooked. The funny part is how patient these young dudes are with us. One was so eager to teach us submissions (when I was in the middle of my hypoglycemic attack) another wanted us to stay for a second class. Last night, a little bitty one was telling us how to score points in a tournament. Who tournament? Is he for real right now? Its funny but I honestly believe if I could go back tonight I would. If I were 10 years younger and could just spend all my time training I would dedicate myself to it fully and though I cant walk right now which is not shocking I feel like for the first time I am doing something I always wanted to do. No one has laughed at me, no one has told me that I cant do it, no body has tossed my lifeless body into the alley and though my everything hurts, my ankle does not and its fantastic. So after class 1 I told my kid, cause well he can hold water unlike other folks and he wont admonish me for the ankle thing. Not only that but he was very happy for me. He knows how much I love this stuff. So I will keep you posted. Maybe photos when I lose some weight at this rate it wont be long.

Oh and since I come here once in a blue moon, someone eloquently pointed out in the comments of my last post that as I was complaining about the writing in 50 Shades that I started the first four paragraphs with "so". First, this is a blog, its not a published book so don't think you are shading me by correcting my blog type grammar. I don't write this bitch for grades or book deals but thanks for your fuckass comment anon.

50 Shades of WTF?!?

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Tue, 15 May 2012 20:51:00 +0000

So I've done the unthinkable. For a woman who prides herself on her literary acumen and writing prowess I have actually succumbed to the hype and decided to read what I can only describe as literary porn. I Avin have just finished Fifty shades of Gray.

So let me tell you why this is about as out of character for me as a fuzzy pink sweater. First, I'm not at all a romantic. I do not enjoy the occasional chick flick, love story or romance novel. I don't dig it. I don't like the idea if the helpless damsel in distress or the perils of Pauline where the woman is tied to the tracks waiting to be rescued. It goes against every survival instinct I have honed and every lesson I was taught by my super independent self sufficient momma. Seriously, we are talkin about a woman who wouldn't ever watch The Notebook, has never seen Love Jones and was forced to watch Love and Basketball. By the way I hated it. Not only did I find it implausible for the early 2000's but I thought it was archaic and I wanted to shake Sanaa Lathan for not having a spine and leaving that needy, pitiful Omar Epps when she had the opportunity. Seriously angry folks.

So, when I tell you that I've read 50 shades, it's beyond a stretch. Second, I typically enjoy a higher brow fare when it comes to my books. Favorite novels recently? The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls, the Dragon Tattoo series, Medium Raw, I know this much is true by Wally Lamb, Like water for Elephants and anything by Lee Child. I honestly don't like romantic fare or anything with a shirtless man on the cover. Don't even get me started on black romance novels. Can I even call them that? So hood and raunchy and downright unbelievable and foul I cant even believe they sell that crap. I was in Borders downtown a few years back looking for a respectable novel and what do I see in the African American fiction section? Thong on Fire. I shit you not. I was once roped into a Zane book by a coworker and I was so embarrassed halfway through that I wanted to put that book in a wood chipper.

So the idea that I would read what amounts to crap is baffling even to me. My roommate loves anything with Fabio or some other half naked man on the cover so this is totally up her alley, but I don't go for it. Cut to last week where for the umpteenth time I get to hear some woman gush over this book. Today it was on the radio. Up until that point I had only a vague knowledge of the subject matter. Some woman, some man, some S&M. Not interested. Don't get me wrong I am no ones prude at almost 40 years of age, but I damn sure haven't spent my days fantasizing about two white people in the throws of deviant sexual behavior. Okay let me rephrase that. After countless years of psychology classes in pursuit of a degree, I know more that I ever cared to about the psychology of human sexuality so a little description of whips and chains isn't really enough to run me off from a book. Trust me there are much scarier predilections to steer clear of.

What I had heard was super lightweight. Still if it's not in my purview the I am not interested, but people wouldn't shut up about it. Then I got an invite from FAC's ex girlfriend inviting me to a book club. I lept at the chance to go and discuss books with a bunch of women my own age until I heard the requirement. Read 50 shades before you come. Really people?

Fine, so I go and get the damn book on my Kindle Fire and start reading last week. I am surprised to say that while I don't think her writing sucks, she does spend a lot of time using the exact same adjectives "flush" for example is a worn out favorite of hers to describe blushing. I don't get the blushing thing but okay. Oh and "blaze" is another. She has got to go get a damn thesaurus. I have heard her describe different scenarios the same way about 30 times now. The plot seems fine, the characters are fully fleshed out, the settings are described well, and the pace seems on par...BUT lets not get twisted up in the game. This book, is about a Masochist with a heart of gold and I am really nervous for the glut of weak minded little suburban housewives who 1 thrive off of mock romance and 2 don't have two clues about the seedy ass nature of the paraphilla they are reading about. Homechick has made this some "hearts and flowers" (another over used description) jaunt through BDSM and they are not gonna like what this really is if they go looking for it.

I just get the feeling that somewhere between the feminists ranting about this book returning women to the dark ages and Dr. Oz spouting off about its amazing liberating qualities for women, there are gonna be a whole host of wide eyed, dumb ass women trolling the intrawebs for millionaire dominants with gray eyes and hearts of gold. I envision lawsuits....lots of them. Oh, and stories on the ID channel.

I wont pretend like they don't get into some of the dirtier bits, but talking about spanking and tying folks up gently with a silk necktie and actually being flogged, humiliated or engaging in sounding (please don't google that, you will not be happy) or suspension are two totally different things. I am kinda mad that I know all this stuff honestly. There are some seriously messed up people on this here earth, and they aren't all 26 and waiting to whisk you away for a night of light debauchery. The type of folks who engage in this stuff as a real hobby aren't fuckin around. They ain't gonna ask "Oh what am I going to do with you" (WAY overused) or offer you a soft blanket and a few Advil when they are done. They aim to kick your monkey ass.

Anywho, I read the book, and apparently there are more in the series. I am not necessarily looking forward to two more books of this fuckery but if the book is a requirement speed bump in order to get to the good shit then fine. I can manage. As books go its not terrible, but its no Memoirs of a Geisha.

Addicted

noreply@blogger.com (Avin) — Wed, 16 Nov 2011 22:08:00 +0000

I’ve been keeping a secret. A huge secret that I hoped no one outside of a few close family members and friends would ever have to know. This secret has taken me three years to come to grips with, but sadly I fear that if I don’t unburden myself that the situation may never get better. The secret, as painful as it is to share could change the lives of so many people around me for the better, and I just refuse to sit in silence as everyone else around me suffers.

Three years ago, I was introduced by a friend (or who I thought was a friend) to a very hush-hush society of individuals. Without getting to far into it, I got hooked on something that I am not proud of. Something that haunts me every single day and makes me feel powerless to stop its hold on me. I know that by telling others I will have more and more trouble obtaining and hiding my addictions but I feel like nothing good can come of my current path. That is why I have taken it upon myself to change and bring this shameful secret out in the open.

I am addicted to Korean Fried Chicken and though you may have never heard of it, its powerful stuff. Korean Fried Chicken is difficult to obtain, and I have driven as far as New York in order to get it. I’ve never told certain people because I fear they will clog my beloved retailers and I will never have the opportunity to get it but now I see that by not speaking up, I could be hurting myself even worse.

As of November 2011 there are zero Korean Fried Chicken spots in the whole of Maryland. This is shameful and appalling, and frankly I am getting really tired of driving out to west hell or Virginia just to get it. It’s a tedious process and gas aint cheap. I was lucky enough to find one in Annendale but let me tell you, that’s a long ass ride and not at all fun. Then I found out they opened one in Fairfax and I vowed to spend my gas and time going there, but it struck me that there is not one single Korean Fried Chicken place in my home state, and while I don’t mind visiting NYC or VA its certainly not convenient. Probably better for my waistline but whatever! I need that Chicken!!!

There are at least 4 franchise options that could be staking their claim in MD but they aren’t. No Bon Chon, no Kyedong, no KyoChon and no UFC (unidentified flying chickens) in my state. Hell, only Bon Chon is outside of NYC and if you knew what I had been through to get that, you would lobby the first Korean you saw to open a stand in my state. Anyway, the reason I am even doing this is because possibly by drumming up enough interest someone will see what a great idea putting on in MD is and fulfill my dreams. I mean, I already know there is an untapped market. Most people love chicken, they love it more when its fried and well I don’t have to tell you how much black folks like chicken. We have dollars people, and frankly I am not giving them to the Colonial or Annie from Popeye’s. A Korean franchisee could be raking in the cash in a central spot like Largo or Greenbelt. Seriously, making a killing. And the thing about KFC is that if you build it they will come. They will believe I promise, because there is nothing else like it and we will keep you laced in the finest for the price of a few plates of chicken, pitchers of beer and cups of pickled dakon.

My issue is this, I would start one myself but (and not to sound racist) but do they even give those franchises to non Asians?? They are all based in South Korea, and I tell you right now I would be hella lost on that business deal. I just know that it would turn a massive profit.

So this is my plea. Please for the love of all that is good and holy someone place a Bon Chon or any of the others in my neck of the woods. I will patronize you like a damn zombie and never leave your side and I will bring all my family, friends and associates to worship at your temple of tasty chicken at the risk of not getting any for myself by flooding your store with believers. Please don’t make me keep driving away from my home I already gave up on Sonic, don’t let me lose faith in you! Sincerely, the KFC devoted from the state of Maryland.