Black Belt Mama

My Funny Valentine

Years ago, I met a black belt student and thought he looked familiar. I didn't see him all that often, but there was always something eerily familiar about him. One day, while I was watching Big I's class, he walked into the dojo wearing a school t-shirt and it all clicked.

"Did you go to school there?" I asked him.

"Yes," he said.

"When did you graduate?"

His answer was the same year I would have graduated from there, had my family not moved when I was in 5th grade.

Suddenly, it all clicked.

"We went to elementary school together!" I exclaimed.

I told him my maiden name and his response was, "Oh my God! I had the biggest crush on you!"

I was completely shocked to hear that, went home, found my old elementary school pictures and had some fun recalling memories of boys vs. girls on the playground and the fact that this guy loved his red striped shirt with a deep, deep passion.

Last night, I went to class and was told to look on the bulletin board. There, pinned to the announcement board was a Valentine that I gave to him in Kindergarten. Apparently, his Mom had been going through stuff and found it.

Back then, I had a very complicated last name and I got a laugh out of the fact that I obviously had to write over a letter or two to get my name spelled correctly.

Since the Valentine belongs to the black belt, I flipped it over to his name, wrote him a little message from the modern day me, and pinned it back up on the board. The message. . .

"Keep this. I'm going to be famous one day. . . "

We have such a fun group at the dojo right now. Of course, I won't be saying that if he starts breaking out pictures. . .

On a completely different note, I got an email today regarding a great group called the Fresh Air Organization. They are looking for host families for short periods of time over the summer to host a child from the city. If you are interested in finding out more, or in becoming a host family, please visit here.

Talk Radio Tonight!

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10 PM EST.

Beverages, Bathrobes, and Party Crashers

Eleven women. No kids. No husbands. Add a spa and you have a weekend to remember.

This past weekend was the annual trek to the Hershey Hotel and spa. A bunch of my girlfriends from Pitt planned it last year and I was unable to attend. This year, I committed to the weekend months in advance because I knew I couldn't miss it.

We arrived on Friday evening and spent the night sitting in the middle of our three hotel rooms and having beverages, lots and lots of "beverages." One of my friends brought the board game "I've Never." If you haven't ever played the game "I've Never" then just imagine being about 12, at a party, and it's your turn to go into the closet with some random boy for "7 minutes in Heaven," not that I've ever done that or anything (Ok, so I did it once, but we both sat there under the coats and talked about ice hockey. I kid you not). The uneasiness and discomfort of that junior high scenario. . .can you remember that. . . well "I've Never" is the adult version when it comes to uncomfortable situations.

Clearly I didn't have enough of those beverages on Friday; and clearly, women are way worse than men when it comes to talking about sex. Clearly.

Also, there was much discussion about important things like how to solve the economic crisis in our country. Don't worry. These girls are on the job.

Actually, I believe they're debating lime or no lime. Or not.

Saturday morning, I was up before eight, dressed and out the door. The Hotel Hershey had a really nice fitness center and I was going to get my money's worth. On Friday evening, one of my friends said she would come along with me, but that was a beverage-induced affirmative. Saturday morning found most of my fellow girls either still sleeping or having a desperate need to stay horizontal.

They got some amusement out of me showing up in my "Lazy Sucks-Just Do It" t-shirt before heading off to the gym. At 8:15 a.m. I started my workout. I spent some time walking and running on the treadmills that overlooked the Hershey gardens. I made my way around the fitness center trying to figure out their equipment (Note to future hotel guests-the slant board sucks). At 9:30 a.m., I returned to the room with an apple to find my room still completely dark. They were awake, but no one was moving very fast.

Many of the girls thought I was insane to go to the gym so early on a day when I could have slept in, but the truth of the matter is that being able to get up and go to the gym without having to get other little people dressed and to sitters or Kidzone was like a little slice of heaven.

Soon after I returned, it was time to hit the spa.

We were shown to a locker room where we changed into bath robes and slipper/sandal things. Then we were given a tour of the spa and told where to wait until we were called for our spa appointments. It was 11 a.m. and after a hard workout and only an apple I was starving, but as soon as I picked up a muffin my massage guy came to get me.

Yes, I said guy.

In the past, I've always had a woman whenever I've gone to get a massage. The guy was super nice and he did a good job, but I just couldn't relax the way I was able to when it was a woman. After the massage, I met up with my friends and we had lunch outside, in our bathrobes. To say that dining in such attire, or lack thereof, felt weird, would be the understatement of the century. At one point, I told my friend it kind of felt like we were in a mental institution, let out for some fresh air or something.

After lunch, I spent some time in the steam room, dry sauna, hot tub and pool. It was a relaxing afternoon and I was sorry to see it end. That's all of us, minus the one working the camera.

For dinner, we went to the Forbay restaurant at the Hershey Lodge. My dinner was spectacular, but the highlight of my weekend came after we arrived back at the hotel.

The lounge was featuring a jazz band as the live entertainment and upon entering, we brought the median age down to around 70. I ventured off to find a restroom with two of my friends when we happened to walk by a banquet room where there was an awesome band playing.

"We should totally crash that party," I said to my friends. We laughed about it between the bathroom stalls, but as we were about to walk by it again, we couldn't help but linger a bit longer. We started dancing out in the hallway and before you know it, and much to my surprise, my friend Kim strutted right into the banquet room and onto the dance floor. I was happy to follow her.

At first we thought it was a wedding we were crashing but a quick glance of the room revealed there was no bride. Another one of my friends ventured off to find out exactly what kind of party we had crashed and found out that we had crashed an "Auto Traders Association's" annual banquet.

It was obvious that the three of us were the best thing to happen to that party. One of the guys from the band came out on the floor, took our purses and put them up on stage (to keep us there), and practically begged us to stay. They kept playing songs "for the crashers," and we spent the night dancing to jazzed up Santana, Amy Winehouse, and Christina Aguilera tunes. At one point, the main band guy wanted to "slow it down" and when I protested he found me a dance partner.

I found out more about my friend Kim at that crashed banquet than ever before. First, she can dance like Tina Turner, better actually. In fact, I spent the rest of the weekend calling her "Tina." Second, she's up for anything once you get her out of her shell. Third, that girl can play a mean tambourine.

Needless to say, it was quite fun.

I came home yesterday afternoon to an empty house and was able to snag a decent nap before Mr. BBM got home with the girls. I woke up thinking that the spa weekend was really nice, but that party crashing might just be my new calling.

To be entered to win your very own Spa Break Basket, head on over to The BBM Review for all the details and leave a comment telling me why you deserve a spa break.

To be entered to win one of several great martial arts prizes, please leave a comment on any of the Admired Martial Artists posts.

Stockwater Tea, Julio Iglesias, and Downtown Drownings

Edited: New One Added Below

I watched American Idol with Mr. BBM last night. Either we're getting old, or the people are just really lousy. There were a few stand-outs, but most of the ones who stood out, were standing out for all the wrong reasons.

Did you know that spandex pants, worn with sneakers, a halter top and a cumberbund is the new thing? Think it was unique to just one audition? You would be wrong. I don't know where these girls got the idea that spandex and sneakers is hot, but it's really not.

"You know, it's a real shame I'm not younger and I don't have a good voice," I told Mr. BBM. "I have star quality. I can dance and perform better than most of these people." I have a video to prove it.

If you can't view this video, go here.

Mr. BBM almost blew his drink out of his nose, and not because I lack star quality either.

"Do you mean 'Stockwater Tea'?"

"What?"

"Don't you remember that?" he asked me.

"Oh," I said, recalling another one of my lyrical follies.

When we were in college, we went to see the Evita movie. The movie itself is for another post. It involves old ladies and wet popcorn and pure nastiness, but like I said, for another time.

I really enjoyed that movie, and Mr. BBM bought me the soundtrack. I know, shocking, considering my favorite song right now is "Blame it" by Jamie Foxx. Anyway, I used to sing along with the soundtrack regularly. There's a song called "Buenos Aires" but it should really be called "Stockwater Tea" since those are the words I sang along with that song.

Listen for it. . . "Just a little bit of stockwater tea. . . "

If you can't view the video, go here.

One day, Mr. BBM corrected me and I knew there was no point in arguing. "Stockwater tea" truly made no sense at all. It just sounded so right when the words came out of my mouth!

My other classic lyrical mishap is from the song "Take my Breath Away." There's a part of the song that says, "Through the looking glass I saw you," but to me it was always belted out to the tune of "Julio Iglesias saw you. . . " I don't know. It just made more sense. Looking glass vs. Julio. Julio clearly wins.

If you can't view this video, go here.

Listen for yourself. Doesn't it sound like she's singing about Julio? I swear I'm right about this one. I had a little singing duo when I was younger and I'm fairly certain I have audio proof of this lyrical mishap.

A more recent one? Kevyn Little's "Turn me On."

View the video here if you can't see it here.

"Let me hold you. . . "

What do you think it says after that?

I'll tell you what it says, "Downtown, that's my body." I totally thought they were dancing in a club downtown as in. . .

"Let me hold you downtown" and then "that's my body." You know, this doesn't really make sense now that I'm writing it out, but whenever I sing that song, it's not "girl caress my body," it's "downtown that's my body." Always has been, always will be. Also, the part that says, "let me charm you" that's right after that? For some reason, I used to sing still sing "let me drown you." I don't know why that would make sense. It certainly doesn't, but that's how I hear it people. Just is. Drown you in love maybe? I don't know.

These lyrical mishaps started quite young. My Dad was a big Tom Petty fan and we were often listening to his music. Remember "Refugee"?

Click here to view if you can't see it here.

My words when I was little: "It don't really matter to me baby. Everybody gotta fight to be free. Oh, yeah, a little appendectomy." I mean, yeah, totally fight for your right to a medical procedure. I think my Dad almost drove off the road laughing when he heard that one. This one makes total sense. It says right in the song, "someone must have kicked you around some." Can't being kicked around cause appendicitis? I'm just saying.

Finally (and I'm sure there are more that Mr. BBM will think of as soon as he reads this), is one I can't really take credit for but think it's fabulous anyway. My sister-in-law used to get frustrated trying to sing along with Rusted Root. Who wouldn't? Those lyrics are more confusing than the Doodlebops!

The song "Ecstasy" is especially troubling, and you look lame if you're at their concert or trying to dance to it and you don't sing along. So, she came up with this for the chorus. . .

"I want whole wheat, with a little bit of turkey meat and mayo."

Listen and sing along. Totally works and trust me, it makes more sense than whatever the heck they're saying. I can't embed this one, so you'll have to go here to listen.

So considering that most of those people on American Idol last night couldn't sing anyway, maybe they should just let me on. At least they'd get a few laughs from the lyrical mishaps.

What's one of your biggest lyrical mishaps? Feel free to share below so I don't feel so stupid and alone.

Best Birthday Ever

I can honestly say that this was the best birthday ever. It has even trumped my 10th birthday when I got my first stereo and trust me when I tell you that was an exciting birthday for me, not so much for my parents whose bedroom was right beside mine. I actually still have that stereo. 

On Friday, I got a couple cards in the mail. One was from my aunt who always sends me scratch-off lottery tickets. I won $100. I also received several other thoughtful cards (one from Marguerite-thank you!), many of them mentioning my "29th" birthday.  Sweet.

Yesterday, I slept in. When I woke up, Mr. BBM made me breakfast. The girls gave me cards they had made themselves and they also gave me that Live Strong t-shirt I saw a couple weeks ago. It says, "100% Back" on it. I'm wearing it today.

At noon, I had a manicure appointment thanks to Renovation Girl and her called in gift certificate. I came home, showered, packed and we were off. We dropped the girls off at my parents house and headed to the hotel. Right after we arrived, one of my friends arrived at the hotel to drive with us to dinner. He brought with him a beautifully wrapped gift and wished me a happy 29th birthday in Japanese (He's a friend from karate).  Inside I found a gift card for Ann Taylor Loft. Does he have good blog reading comprehension skills or what? Although I did not at all expect gifts, I was elated. Thank you E!

We drove over to Bahama Breeze for dinner and while we waited for our table, I drank a mojito (ok, actually two mojitos). I nursed the second one all through dinner because it was STRONG and I had some dancing to do later. We had a lovely dinner. I had almond crusted salmon in a lemon butter sauce with tropical rice. It was delicious.

So was the spinach dip which is why my friend Stacey is covering her mouth and we are cracking up. Ok, the cracking up part may be due to the mojito.

     

We headed back to the hotel and the nightclub afterward. First, I did a quick wardrobe change. I couldn't decide what to wear so Mr. BBM told me I should be like a celebrity hosting an awards show and switch tops, so that's just what I did. He was apparently kidding, but it was a suggestion I couldn't ignore.

I wasn't the only one with a wardrobe change. Ikigai ended up having to borrow one of Mr. BBM's shirts since t-shirts, even nice ones, were not allowed. Yep, that's right, no t-shirts allowed but bring on the leggings, cheesy hot-pants, fishnet stockings and bikinis. Oh, how I wish I were kidding about that part.

Here's Ikigai playing the role of Mr. BBM.

   

We arrived at the club and were shown to our VIP room. The VIP room was a bunch of comfy couches, six televisions that looked like a kaleidoscope, and a great big comfy ottoman. This was surrounded by long white flowing pieces of fabric. It was like our own little cocoon. 

That's my sister and her boyfriend in the background. He was googling himself, like usual.

The VIP room came with a specialty drink for all of us to share. It was quite good and didn't last very long.

 

I'm just thankful I had some good help getting rid of it. That's Stacey's husband Richard. You may recall him from this post.

 

Here's another picture of me and my sister. I never really thought we looked anything alike until I saw this picture today. Clearly though, we're leaving the chest area out of this comparison. One of these things is certainly, and sadly, not like the other. 

 

Ikigai (seen below) dared me to go out onto the dance floor to get the party started and I told him I haven't met a (reasonable) dare I haven't liked. So, out I went. Ikigai's girlfriend, "Foxy Citrus" (also seen below and also celebrating her birthday), joined me after a lonely minute and things started rolling. Someone has to start the party right?

We had an unsolicited dance partner who didn't smell that great, so we decided we'd go sit back in the VIP room to let him cool his engines.

The club had a stage where only ladies could dance and at some point, they called me up there. I went and took a posse of girls with me. We truly had a blast.

I believe that's me doing my best impersonation of nai hanchi stance. Actually, on second thought, I think I was just getting low and stuff.

When my friend told me this club was cheesy, she neglected to tell me that there were "cages." That would be my sister leaning way back there while holding the bar and that would be me standing in the cage laughing. No one can say we weren't adding to the entertainment value at the club.    

 

With the exception of one party pooper (see "google" image above), everyone from my party got out on the dance floor at some point, even those who swore they were like T.I. as in "alright, ok, I don't dance, no way."

Of course, my sister and I don't use that type of logic. We're always ready to dance.

My knee held up quite well all night long, and although none of us made it to the 2 a.m. closing time, I didn't mind because they started playing really craptastic music. See my face expression reflecting this below. And for those who only tolerated last nights music in honor of me and my birthday, zip it, I already know what you're going to say about the music that preceded the end of the night's craptastic music.

   

My friends all put in a good amount of time at the club. I had a great group of people, a great group of friends, and a really fantastic time.

Tonight I went to my Mom's for dinner and cake. My Mom and the girls made me a cake. The girls decorated it almost completely by themselves and they did a fantastic job. 

   

I've learned that one of the keys to having a good birthday is having it fall on a weekend. This was definitely one for the memory books! Thank you to everyone who made this birthday special by sending me something sweet, typing me birthday wishes, or getting your groove on. I truly have the best friends in the world.

Karl is Hired and Avitable Rocks

Yesterday, Karl found the secret BBM lair with his GPS. I think we had a great time. I know my kids did for sure. I'm not so sure about how much Karl liked being a jungle gym, but he was a good sport even if he wasn't digging it.

Lil C made fast friends with Karl. She fed him chocolate chips while he taught her to say "Whoa Jack." Within 30 minutes, she was climbing on his lap, and forcing him to play with Barbie dolls and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse toys. Think Mary Poppins in pants. Yes, he was that good.

 

When Lil C tired of that, she climbed onto Karl's back and told him he was her horse. He happily obliged. Later, she held up two play hamburger buns to his face and told him he was her Prince. She was playing the part of Ariel and apparently she thinks that Prince Eric looks like Princess Leia.

 

At some point, she had a "wardrobe change" and morphed into Cinderella. She told Karl they were getting married and she kissed him. He told her she was the best girlfriend he ever had. It was a match made in heaven.

I seriously think I need to convince him to buy the lot beside me. I could really use another babysitter and Lil C would like to see her "husband" more than once a year or so. Plus, I think I only had about 20 minutes of talk time with Karl. My kids totally monopolized him. If he moved in, we could have drinks on the lawn all summer long.

Thanks for coming to visit me Karl! What fun!!!

Right after Karl arrived, the doorbell rang. Arriving was a birthday present from Avitable. His site may be a little wild at times but the man has a heart of gold. He sent me this shirt after he read this post.

If you look closely you'll see that the shirt is covered with little pictures of gi'd up me. I have to say that this was the most unique present I've ever received. Thank you Adam! 

 

Tomorrow is the birthday bash and I am so looking forward to it. I'm sure someone will take pictures. My knee is feeling great and I am looking forward to getting my groove on.

Musical Memories

We've been listening to a lot of music around the house lately. Having an IPod Touch makes it all the more enjoyable. I'm totally loving their Genius feature. Anyway, as I was listening to music today, I started to mentally compile a list of some of my favorite songs. My favorite songs are almost always linked to good or fun memories and I thought I'd share a fun one with you today.

My best guy friend got married a couple years after I did. He met his girlfriend in college and had been with her for years before they got married. Unlike most couples who get married, they had actually waited if you know where I'm going with this. For my friend, this had been especially rough and frustrating at times.

While at his reception, music was playing. It was all classy stuff, dinner type music that anyone could enjoy. And then my friend made a request.

The DJ announced over the microphone that my friend had made a request and was dedicating it to his new bride. There were collective ooh's and ah's and a lot of aw's. My friend led his new bride out to the dance floor and the music started; except it wasn't at all what anyone was expecting.

It was this. . . (You can watch the video and hear the song here.)

This thing right here
Is lettin all the ladies know
What guys talk about
You know
The finer things in life
Hahaha
Check it out

Ooh dat dress so scandalous
And ya know another n couldn't handle it
See ya shakin that thang like who's da ish
With a look in ya eye so devilish

Uh
Ya like to dance at all the hip hop spots
And ya cruise to the crews like connect da dots
Not just urban she likes the pop
Cuz she was livin la vida loca

[BRIDGE]
She had dumps like a truck truck truck
Thighs like what what what
Baby move your butt butt butt
Uh
I think to sing it again
She had dumps like a truck truck truck
Thighs like what what what
All night long
Let me see that thong

[CHORUS]
I like it when the beat goes da na da na
Baby make your booty go da na da na
Girl I know you wanna show da na da na
That thong th thong thong thong
I like it when the beat goes da na da na
Baby make your booty go da na da na
Girl I know you wanna show da na da na
That thong th thong thong thong

Lyrics thanks to: http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/sisqo/thongsong.html

As soon as the music started, my friend started going nuts, dancing all around her and right up to her. There she stood in her bridal gown, completely dumbstruck. She was a good sport throughout and it was absolutely hysterical. Every time I hear that song, I just crack up. The look on her face, the look on his face as he danced like a maniac, the look on everyone's faces at the reception. . . it was priceless.

What's one of your best musical memories?

Clothes and Earrings and Lunch

Warning: Male readers should prepare to be confused by this post.

Yesterday was like a little slice of heaven, actually more like a big slice of heaven. My Mom took me out for a day of shopping for my birthday. We went without the girls.

While I love shopping with the little ones, being asked for a "soft pretzel and flushie (Lil C for slushie)" every other minute can get exhausting. Most shopping trips usually end with buying something little for the girls and nothing for me. It's difficult to determine if your butt looks bit when you're busy in the dressing room, trying to entertain little anti-shoppers.

I left my house at 10 a.m. yesterday and didn't come home until almost 7 p.m. It was fantastic.

We first went to a little boutique in the area of town where people usually look at us like we don't belong. I found a fabulous new purse for only $39, some really cool crystal earrings, a shirt that will work nicely for my night at the nightclub next weekend and a really different sweater that will work for casual, work, or whatever. My Mom also found something nice. It was so much fun to try things on that were different and fun.

Next we headed to a restaurant called "Bensi" for lunch. We had some fantastic eggplant parm with salad and were actually able to talk about something other than princesses. I didn't have to cut up anyone's food either. I almost didn't know what to do with myself.

After lunch, we headed to a big outlet area and found some total steals. I got a pair of Ann Taylor Loft pants for $10 and some shirts for $2.50 and less. When all was said and done, I had two new pairs of pants (totally necessary since I've been hard at work reshaping my butt and legs), two new sweaters, three cami's, two shirts, a new purse and new earrings. It was an absolutely blissful day.

Top that with the fact that I came home to two happy kids and dinner on the table. . . it doesn't get any better than that people.

Add to that my Friday evening. I had a hair appointment and upon arriving the receptionist was being extra cheery. "You want to know why I'm so great?" she asked. "Sure," I told her.

Then she went on to tell me how she had just spent 15 minutes on the phone with a friend of mine who had called in a gift certificate for a manicure for me.

I left the salon with a slightly different cut, lighter blonde streaks (which always make me feel better) and an appointment for a manicure next weekend.

This leading-up-to-the-birthday-week is off to a great start.

Internal Dramalogue

This morning I was talking on the phone with my Mom when my Dad had a little outburst. He went from perfectly quiet to "Damn woman, why do you have so many towels?"

He was folding laundry for my Mom.

He then went on this whole conservation lecture kick, telling her that she uses too many towels (dish rags, drying towels, cleaning rags) and socks (work socks, work-out socks, etc.). So much for saving the world by not using paper towels to clean.

"I don't know what his problem is," my Mom said laughing.

This type of outburst is not unusual for my Dad. He can spend 15 minutes not saying anything and then completely freak out. I've just learned to expect this type of behavior from him.

"You know what's wrong with him?" I said. "He has these internal conversations in his head like this: 'I'm a big bad man. Why am I folding laundry? Why am I folding all these towels? Why are there so many damn socks? What does this woman do, use 15 towels and four pairs of socks a day?'"

And then it's all too much and he says something like, "Damn woman, why do you have so many towels?" I told my Mom he's having an internal debate, a dramalogue if you will, with himself. She lost it, and we were completely cracking up because it is so obviously what he does.

"Your daughter has you all figured out," she told him laughing.

Earlier in the conversation we had been talking about my grandfather. He got a bill in the mail today and instead of calling because he had a question about it, he got in his car and drove there. It's New Years Eve. I'm betting no one is even there. We were talking about how stubborn he can be and my Mom went on to say that if anything ever happens to my grandmother, she'd probably have to take my Pop-Pop in and she thinks she would go nuts.

"Remember what you said about your dad?" I asked her. "Ditto that for me," I told her.

They both must have been put on this Earth to provide humor for the women in their lives. It's the only explanation.

Back from the Beach and Feeling the Love

We had a fantastic weekend in Ventnor with some great friends. We spent the weekend eating lots of barbequed goodies, splashing in the waves, and playing some really fun games. The girls created "habitats" in beach buckets today. They both picked up tiny clams and enjoyed watching them burrow back into the sand. I even found a hermit crab for them that didn't do a whole lot, but they loved it anyway. When all was said and done, we put the little creatures back on the beach, packed up, and drove home.

We made a brief stop on the way home and were very pleased to see that our siding is going up on the house. My parents stopped by over the weekend and said the guy was working all day Saturday. He got a lot done. By the end of this week, we may actually have a house that's not green with rain guard wrap.

Usually when I go away on a little vacation, something bad happens. People write mean things about me on their websites or my cat starts barfing a lot. Tonight I came home to this award from one of my favorite bloggers, Karl.

So a special "thank you" goes out to Karl (who would obviously be on my list if he hadn't already won the award). Here are the rules of the award:

• The winner can put the logo on his/her blog.
• Link the person who awarded you.
• Nominate at least seven other blogs.
• Put links to those blogs on your own blog.
• Leave a message on the blogs you've nominated.

Here goes, in no particular order, and this is in no way a complete list of blogs I love:

Renovation Girl

Adam's Cerebral Spillage

Ikigaiway

Martial Views

Sizzle Says

Iron Fist

Blogography

I hope this award helps all of you start your week off with a smile.

 

Because IT is ON

When I was first nominated for this calendar thing, I thought it was pretty funny. I'm a Mom of two girls. The most prominent picture of me on this blog is one in which I'm wearing a baggy gi. Being nominated was nice though, especially when one of the ladies commented here the other day and told me what the anonymous person who nominated me said about me.  After giving birth, it's nice to know you've still got it, at least a little bit anyway.

Once the voting started, I clicked on over there and was shocked to see that I was in the top 12.  How on Earth did that happen? I'm not tech savvy. I have no robot that will vote for me 24/7.  I only have my readers, my friends and my family (and trust me when I tell you that asking my Dad to vote for me for "Hot Blogger Calendar" was just not going to sit well with him so I didn't bother to ask).

For those of you who know me personally, you know that I am one competitive girl. Mr. BBM and I are super competitive with each other about everything. I hate to lose. I must always win, whether it's a game, a debate, or a competition.

So, I'm calling out all the stops and I'm giving you all the reasons you'll need to go and vote for me and secure my spot in the top 12. 

1.  Girls in gi's are hot (usually because we're sweating but still, one can't argue this point).

2.  I can represent for karate girls everywhere. Forget these lingerie clad women; tough is hotter.

3.  I doubt many other women have weapons they can bring to a photo shoot.  Weapons are hot.

4.  Garter belts may be hot; but an obi (karate belt) is hotter.

5.  I used to have a dentist named Dr. "Hot"tenstein.  No lie. Would I have had a dentist with that name if a spot in the top 12 wasn't destiny? 

6.  There are many people on the internet who think feet are hot.  Karate women don't wear shoes.  No shoes=hot.

7.  I have quite a temper sometimes, a "hot" temper.

8.  I recently went to the beach and stayed in a "hot"el.  Uh-huh, that's right. Would a not hot person stay in a "hot"el?  I think not.

9. When I was a kid, I used to eat "red hots" so obviously part of my body composition is "hot." You are what you eat right?

10. Doesn't the girl who did this deserve a spot in the hot 12?

Go and vote.  You only have until September 1st to have your voice heard!

Looking for Me?

I'm guest posting over at Karl's place today. Please visit, give Karl a comment, and while you're there give him some encouragement (he recently quit smoking). 

Blogebrities

Going to Tequila Con this past weekend was kind of like hanging out in Hollywood.  There were blogebrities everywhere you looked.  Some of them, you instantly recognized as in "OMG, that's Secondhand KARL!" or "There's Blogography and he looks just like he does on his blog!".  Then there were those times when you knew you should know someone but you just couldn't place the face or the blog.  It was kind of like when I went to England in high school and the little guy from Das Efx and RedMan were staying in our hotel for the entire week, yet I didn't figure out who they were until the day we were leaving, and only after our chaperones had explicitly warned us to stay away from those scary people.

Tequila Con, like the Cheers bar, was the place where everyone knew your name (You were wearing it like a billboard on a lanyard all night so it was fairly obvious).  There was no catty business like in usual social situations (at least none that I'm aware of) and everyone was super nice and complimentary. 

Karl told me he loved my shoes and won my heart.  Others asked me about things I had written about months ago, or checked in on the status of the knee.  There were people there that I was just getting to know, but many of these people knew me.  It was definitely a weird feeling.

I often talk to my college friends about how cool they are, and how no matter how much time passes or what's going on in our lives, when we get together we always have wine, I mean fun. Leaving Tequila Con on Saturday night was like leaving yet another very cool group of new friends who felt like old friends.

For years, I scolded my sister about meeting people online (In my defense, she only met losers online).  So, when I told my family I was going to meet a bunch of bloggers, I could see their hesitation and a flash of concern.  But meeting everyone that I met at Tequila Con showed me that there are some really incredible people out there, and a whole host of bloggers to fix my sister up with if things don't work out with her current guy. 

Meeting Real Live Bloggers: Tequila Con 2008

Last night, Mr. BBM and I met some real live bloggers face to face.  They did not disappoint.  This was my very first Tequila Con and it did not disappoint either.  I had plans to make a photo essay out of the whole night, but then I realized that we had over 40 pictures, and there was just no way I could upload them all here.  So, if you'd like to see the photographic evidence of our very good time, you can go here.  This is where everyone will be uploading their own pictures of Tequila Con.  I've added a few below, just for fun.

I spent the entire night laughing and smiling almost non-stop. My sides and face hurt by the time it was all over. It really was that much fun. The planning crew, Dave, Jenny, Dustin, Vahid (please forgive me if I'm missing someone) were so welcoming and sweet.  We got custom lanyards, pins to add some bling, and even a soundtrack that is just plain awesome (I thought I was the only person who liked S-S-S-S-Samantha Fox). 

Just a couple highlights from the night:

-Sneaking into the DJ booth ninja style armed with song requests and $10 along with the help and support of Jenny and Dee Dee.

-Adam teaching me about the joys of being able to bring Karl's posts to life even in a bowling alley.

-Hanging out with Hello Ha Ha Narf and Vahid.

-Meeting Karl which, well, words can't even begin to describe.

 

-Watching Dustin break out the Tequila costume and then work the room like a pro.

-Kicking Dave's butt, because he put in a special request.

 

-Meeting one of my favorite readers, Delmer and his friend with very cool shoes Donna!

-Meeting Lisa and her husband and Hilly.

-Being in the presence of Miss Britt doing just about anything, but especially dancing.

-Comparing PT notes with Rachel.

-Trying to make the case for Pete and Mike being serial killers.  They're so totally not.

-Saving Dan at Chucklehut for last, and even sharing a cab back to our respective hotels.

It was great to meet so many fantastic people.  Looking back over the list of attendees today, I can't believe all of the ones I didn't get to meet last night.  I guess there's always next year!

   

Weekend in Review

After driving around with only a printed out temporary drivers license, I finally forced myself to go to the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) on Saturday to get my new license.  Going to the DMV is a special kind of torture for me.  I don't know why, but it seems like only the dregs of society ever need to get their licenses renewed when I'm there.  I stood in a line a good 30 people long to be given a number and told to go get my picture taken.  Thank God for the internet, in that I could renew online and skip the first very long step involved with getting a renewed license. 

My number came up and I trudged on in to the cubicle.  An unsmiling young man greeted me and made me answer all the questions about voting registration and organ donation.  He told me to sit down and look at the camera.  He spoke in complete monotone.  He took the first picture and wouldn't even let me see it.  He started shaking his head "no" and then asked me to remove my purse strap from my shoulder.  Apparently, my shoulder strap was preventing him from getting a good shot of my face. 

Whatever.

I removed my purse and he took the picture again.  It wasn't my best, but it wasn't my worst either and I told him to just print it.  Standing at the counter was awkward and my license was taking forever to print.  I noticed that the young man was missing part of his name tag.  To make small talk I said, "What happened?  Did your dog chew up your name tag?" 

He didn't crack even a hint of a smile before responding in a monotone, "It just broke.  I told them I need a new one, but they didn't get me one yet.  So I just wear this one." 

"Oh," I said. 

Then, I had to bite back laughter and tears as I read the leftover bit of his name tag.  "Ken Pew."  That is one man who seriously needs a new name tag. 

After surviving the DMV, we decided to treat the girls to lunch at Friendly's before hitting the museum.  The other night our Realtor asked what we do with the girls for fun and Mr. BBM and I just sort of stared awkwardly at each other.  We haven't done anything in a really long time.  With a Mommy who can't walk for long periods of time, "fun" just doesn't happen. 

We had an enjoyable lunch and then it was time for dessert.  Mr. BBM had ordered a meal that comes with a sundae as did the girls.  They ordered their ice cream and Mr. BBM asked the waiter what type of sundae he was allowed to get with his meal.  Before the server could answer, I figured I'd save the waiter the trouble since I had read the menu and said, "You get a 'Happy Ending'." 

He got fire engine red and started cracking up laughing.  I blinked back at him and asked him what was so funny, but he was laughing so hard he couldn't even speak.  Meanwhile, the girls are staring at him, as is the waiter. 

"What is your problem?" I asked.

"A happy ending" he blurts out, still hysterical. 

The waiter started laughing as I told him to get his mind out of the gutter already.  "We're in a Friendly's for God's sake."  Mr. BBM finally recovered enough to tell our waiter the flavor of ice cream he wanted and I was ready to smack him. 

The museum went much better than the first two locales of the day, right up until Lil C threw herself on the gift shop floor and told us "going home is dupid (stupid)." 

Fabulous.

She thrashed like a bucking bronco as Mr. BBM strapped her into her seat and them promptly fell asleep while we perused piles of dirt for our potential new home.  Yes, we definitely needed to go have some fun.

That was Saturday.

Today we had two showings of our house.  They were at 1 p.m. and 5 p.m.  We cruised the neighborhood for the first one, and brought back fast food for lunch as yet another treat for the girls.  Mr. BBM and I both drank super-sized diet cokes and then we headed back out to an open house to make sure our house didn't get messed up before the 5 p.m. showing.  These girls are little destructors.

We made the mistake of not using the bathroom before leaving and by the time we were finished walking through the open house, Mr. BBM and I were both in agony.  We were in the middle of nowhere and thought we were going to die. 

Big I started bugging us to change the DVD in the player and I was afraid that if I bent down to get another movie, my bladder would burst.  So Mr. BBM told Big I that "Mommy and Daddy can't concentrate because our teeth are floating."  It was the worst possible thing he could have said.

We spent the next 20 minutes trying to explain what that saying meant as we maneuvered a ton of crazy back roads.  On the home stretch for a brief bathroom stop at the house, Mr. BBM burped, sighed, and said, "I think I just burped up a little pee." 

Usually Mr. BBM's humor is completely lost on me.  I just give him a look and we all move on.  This, however, struck me so funny that I could hardly contain myself.  Tears streamed down my face and I doubled over in pain as I tried to keep from peeing in my pants. 

Needless to say, I insisted on getting in the house first.

We quickly exited in advance of our second showing and drove around the neighborhood again.  Because Big I and I can get car sick by driving only one block, and because the liquids had been flowing freely all afternoon, we decided to stay sort of put for this showing.  The apartments across the street from our house have parking spaces that face our house, obscured by some shrubbery.  We spent 25 minutes remarking to each other, "They're in the kitchen now.  They just left the bedroom.  They're outside now," but truly it wasn't good enough.

I think I'm using my Best Buy gift card to wire our house Jack Bauer style and we're totally bringing our binoculars next time.  Who says we don't have any fun with the girls?      

Carnival of Great Martial Arts Books

Scroll down for new entries.

When you are unable to train for months at a time, you need as much good reading material as you can get!  It is with great pleasure that I bring you the Carnival of Great Martial Arts Books. 

Amanda from Amanda Takes Off presents Martial Arts Book Review posted at Amanda Takes Off....

John Vesia presents Martial Arts Madness posted at Martial Views.

Patrick Parker presents Richard Strozzi-Heckler's Warrior Spirit posted at Mokuren Dojo.

Marks presents Great Karate Biography posted at Marks Chat.

Black Belt Mama presents My Journey with the Grandmaster posted at The BBM Review.

Dave Shevitz presents Stepping Off the Mat in Angry White Pyjamas, all In Search of the Warrior Spirit posted at AikiThoughts, No Blog of Significance: Book Review: Ultimate Jujutsu: Principles & Practice posted at No Blog of Significance, No Blog of Significance: Book Review: Okinawan Karate: the Secret Art of Tuite posted at No Blog of Significance, No Blog of Significance: Book Review: The Secrets of Okinawan Karate: Essence and Techniques posted at No Blog of Significance, No Blog of Significance: Book Review: The Way of Sanchin Kata: The Application of Power posted at No Blog of Significance, and No Blog of Significance: Book Review: Bokken: Art of the Japanese Sword posted at No Blog of Significance.

Jason Couch presents The Cane as a Weapon posted at Martial History Magazine.

Other off-topic posts of interest:

Marks presents Vital Point Striking for all Martial Artists posted at Marks Chat.

Frederic Patenaude presents Staying a Step Ahead of Aging posted at Frederic Patenaude Talks.

Rob Moshe presents Live Your Best Life By Serving Others. posted at Rob Moshe.

Anmol Mehta presents Free Online Hatha Yoga Poses Galleries posted at Mastery of Meditation, Enlightenment & Kundalini Yoga.

Enjoy!  Hope to see you all back for the Admired Martial Artists Month!

To submit a post to next months Carnival, go here.  Next month's theme is "Spread the Love."  Tell your readers about a few martial arts blogs that you read yourself and why you read them.   

Quirks

You make your friend start a blog and then she tags you. . .

Sigh.

I'm just kidding of course.  I've been tagged by Renovation Girl and here are the rules:

The rules:
1) Link to the person who tagged you.
2) Post the rules.
3) Share six non-important things / habits / quirks about yourself.
4) Tag at least three people.
5) Make sure the people you tagged KNOW you tagged them by commenting that you did.

Six non-important things about me:

1.  I can drink iced tea or soda out of any type of cup or glass.  However, give me milk in a plastic cup and I could seriously gag.  I have to drink milk out of a glass or it just makes me nauseous.  My Mom is the same way.  Nature or nurture?

2.  My feet are claustrophobic.  I can not ever sleep with socks on my feet.  Once I tried to slather my feet in emollient lotion and wear special socks to make sure it soaks in.  When I woke up in the morning, my socks were on the other side of the bedroom.  Apparently I ripped them off and threw them in my sleep. 

3.  When I get nervous, I pick at the skin on my thumb by my fingernails.  You can totally tell how stressed out I am by the condition of my hands.  Let's just say that this week, my thumb started to bleed.

4.  It doesn't matter what type of hairstyle I have.  It is almost always tucked behind my ears.  It drives my stylist crazy! 

5.  I get extremely grossed out by poor table manners.  People who lick their fingers, double dip and shove food in their mouths make me physically sick.  I also get this from my Mom.  We could both gag over any of these or other related issues.

6.  When I find a house I like, I arrange my furniture in it in my mind while I'm falling asleep at night.  I also grieve over losing a house I want like I lost a close relative.  (No, I'm not over it and I'm not feeling any better about it or my stupid virus.) 

Tagged are:

Adam

Karl

Sizzle

If you're interested in submitting a post for the Martial Arts Carnival that will appear here on Friday, please get it in NOW!  If you don't, I will totally cough on you.  See the left sidebar for the link.  I'm too sick and lazy to link it here for you.

Old Friends, Good Times & Cooper Marketing

Mr. BBM will often come home from work and have a glass of wine or a beer with dinner or afterward.  I rarely do this.  Iced tea is my beverage of choice.  Although I enjoy a glass of wine or a beer from time to time, I just really don't drink that much, especially since I hurt my knee back in October. 

When you're around old college friends, however, all of that can quickly change.  One of our good friends from college married a lovely guy from England and we always have a blast when we're with them.  Saturday night was no exception. 

Because everyone tends to do things for me since I hurt my knee, Mr. BBM or one of my friends were constantly refilling my wine glass.  The conversation and wine were flowing quite freely apparently.  When someone is constantly refilling your glass and you're just hanging out and gulping sipping, it's difficult to know exactly how much you've had until you get up to pour yourself a glass. 

I quickly found out as I surveyed the room and realized that everyone else was drinking mixed drinks or beer.  I was the only wino, literally.

"Will someone please have a glass of this wine so that I can't claim to have kicked the entire bottle by myself?" I asked.

My friend happily agreed to share the blame and we did what many tipsy people decide to do.  We went downstairs to throw pointy objects at the wall, i.e. play darts.  By then, the damage was already done.  We were all feeling fairly silly.  We started playing three different dart games and each one got cut short because one of us hit the wrong button and restarted the game (you should know that I did not do this, despite having almost an entire bottle of wine).  You should also know that I was totally winning 501 and was down to only 9 points.  Granted, I was more likely to be throwing darts into the wall than hitting a 9 at that point, but you get the idea. 

So, with our dart game waning and our jolly English man dozing, my friend recommended that we get some markers and write something clever on his forehead.  This sounded like the most fabulous idea ever to me, so I quickly went and raided the girls marker collection and brought down a variety of colors.  The only problem was: what do we write?

Mr. BBM couldn't really think of anything and neither could my friend.  I, however, can come up with marketing slogans and rhyming fun in my sleep (or after almost a bottle of wine).  Because his job is selling mini-cooper cars, I knew I had to incorporate that into my clever marker slogan.   

"I know. I know!" I yelled energetically!

"Buy a cooper, or kiss my pooper!"

There was a brief hesitation as everyone realized the genius that was my statement, and then there was an eruption of laughter.  Our English car salesman quickly realized that with markers in hand and a slogan ready for public consumption, he had better sit up, stop dozing, and NOW.

Tipsy or not, that slogan is pure genius.  I imagine my friend will be using it quite often while at work.  One thing I won't be doing often?  Drinking that much wine again. 

My Professor was on The Daily Show

Every once in a while, when I'm trying to distract myself from thinking about my upcoming surgery, I'll google a name of someone from the past and see what comes up. 

Today I found this:

Lee Gutkind is one of my professors from the University of Pittsburgh.  His classes and his writing style fascinated me.  Every time I scheduled my next semester, I would try to take something he was teaching.  When all was said and done, I believe he was responsible for giving me about 13 credits or so of very well deserved A's. 

I interned for him at his then newly created journal called Creative Nonfiction.  In fact, Creative Nonfiction turned into my first job out of college, where I worked an an assistant editor.  This man could research the hell out of just about any topic, write about it, and make it interesting. 

He used to take essays I had written and cross off the entire first three pages to show me where my story should start.  I would initially want to cry, after all that work that I had put into my writing; but then I would read the finished result in front of the class and watch their reactions. I knew it was good because people sat there nodding their heads as I read.

Just about everything that is good about my writing, I learned from him.  How cool is it that my professor was on The Daily Show!?!   

Blogsitting

I am blogsitting over at IzzyMom today, with a super holiday gift suggestion for the little "princess" in your life.  Go and read.  I'm busy working on my fantasy football line-up. 

Playoffs baby, oh yeah!

Confession

Thanks to all my shopping over the past few days, my cold has decided it's the perfect time to ramp it up.  That means that it's the perfect time to complete my meme duty as per Martial Development.  I'm supposed to state three embarrassing personal confessions. 

1.  Day and Date Memory Lapses: Yesterday I woke up thinking it was Sunday because I thought that Friday was Saturday.  Because of this, I completely forget to take Big I to karate class yesterday morning.  It wasn't even like I remembered in the morning though.  I didn't realize she had missed her class until Saturday night.  I frequently screw up days around holidays, so you probably shouldn't make any plans with me when Big I has days off from school.  Come to think of it, I am usually not aware of the date or time (since I don't wear a watch) so making plans with me is risky. Tomorrow is Tuesday right?

2.  Sunday Plans:  During football season, I usually spend my entire Sunday curled up on my couch with drinks, snacks and my lap-top so that I can constantly check on my fantasy football players and their performance.  I often yell at players as if they can hear me.  Lil C is getting really good at yelling at players too.  This makes me quite proud.

3.  Pronunciation: Because I don't wish to share any more embarrassing flaws of my own, (and since I already told you about the Danger of Recorded Material which goes down in history as one of my most embarrassing experiences ever), here's one of my sister's which I will never let her forget. After the tsunami happened my sister called me.  "Oh my God," she said, "Did you hear about that (word spelled as she pronounced it) "tut-som-ee"?"  When I could catch my breath again, I asked her if she was referring to the tsunami and indeed she was referring to exactly that. 

I'm supposed to tag people, so I hereby command the following people to tell all of their most embarrassing confessions.  With the exception of one, I'm tagging all the fantasy football participants in my league called Smack Talkers Anonymous.  May this meme serve to distract you from your line-up duties to deliver me a win and a bump up in the standings. . .

Adam
Papa Bradstein
Goon Squad Sarah
August Runner
Ikigai (if you don't have a blog, you have to add yours in my comments)
Marcus Aurelius (ditto)
Jenn Maniacal
Da Mack Daddy

Shameless Gloating to Follow

Last year I joined Blog Burst.  You register your blog with them.  If accepted, they find big online publications to publish your posts.  Exposure is the name of the game.  The Houston Chronicle has been loving me for some time and publishing pretty much all of my entries (I'm loving them back because of it); but lately I've noticed some new places.  Check me out!

WNBC.com

The Sacramento Bee

Austin American Statesman

Reuters, yeah THE Reuters. (I should mention here that I totally think it was a mistake.  Someone probably lost their job over it.  I'm on the "investing page" and I can almost guarantee you it's because of the name "Bill Gates" that was included as part of an end note.  I'm taking it any way I can get it though.)   

Now if I could just get Bill Gates to notice me and my tip jar. . . (Oops, there I go again.)

How to Find a Wii

Every day, multiple searches land people on this site, people who are still looking for a Nintendo Wii.  A year after my quest for a Wii, I can't believe that people are still having trouble finding them for Christmas.  Instead of just reading about how I was one of the lucky ones who found a Wii, I thought I'd give you googlers some advice about how to find one.  Here goes:

1. Investigate all the local stores that sell Wii's.  Where are the people most friendly?  Where are the managers or sales associates who are most like you?  I made "friends" with the Electronics Department Manager at my local Walmart and it worked wonders for me.  Don't waste time traveling all over looking for one.  You only need one manager/sales associate who likes you.  Make that the store you're determined to get a Wii from.  In my area, the Walmart received weekly shipments and they usually received more Wii's than the other stores did, 15 to the other stores' three or four.
2. When I say "make friends," I mean, talk to the manager instead of just barking "Did you get any Wii's today in their face?"  I was the master of schmooze.  I always asked her how she was doing, when she thought another shipment might come in, how many she thought she might receive, and I always thanked her for her time and help.  It really paid off. 
3. Do some investigating about when your chosen local store receives their shipments.  My Walmart received shipments on Wednesdays around noon, which means I arrived at the store at around 11:45 and hung out around the incoming boxes.
4. Be persistent, but don't be annoying.  Obnoxious people don't get Wii's.  A Mom, toting two kids, who looks incredibly depressed every time the manager says "Sorry, we don't  have anymore" gets the gold. 
5. That being said, it doesn't hurt to tote your kids along when you're looking for a Wii.  Think empathy factor: a mom trudging through crowds of people with children in each arm. . . you get the idea.  If you don't have two of your own, borrow your nieces or nephews, with permission of course.

I firmly believe that the manager saw my perseverance and "awarded" me with a Wii.  One had been returned unopened, and she snuck me back to the layaway area so that I could buy it in peace without some lunatic swiping it from me (because last year, someone totally would have done that).  She had seen me arrive at Walmart on all the shipment days, with a heavy one-year old in my arms every time and I was rewarded for my efforts.

That being said, Good luck finding your Wii!

Eight things about eight things

I've been tagged again.  I won't mention any names or anything; but I seriously think that some people (a-Andrew-hem) are taking advantage of the fact that I can't run.  I mean, how challenging is a game of tag when one of the players is one leg down?  In all seriousness though, thank you Andrew, because this meme is interesting and NaBloPoMo is about to kill me, so without further delay. . .

Eight Things I am Passionate About (in no particular order):

1. Martial Arts-I know this is rather obvious; but I seriously think about the martial arts all the time.  Ask my husband.  It's pretty much all I talk about. 
2. Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation-My Mom is a type 1 Diabetic and has been since I was 4.5 years old.  I have watched her persevere through the years, and even joined her a bit when I was a gestational diabetic during my second pregnancy.  It is a horrible disease and it needs to be cured NOW!
3. My Children- I love them so much that it hurts sometimes.  For example, when someone picks on my daughter at school, I just want to. . . (I'll let you use your imagination here, but just know that whatever you're thinking, I'm thinking something worse).  That's what having kids does to you.
4. Politics, although you wouldn't necessarily know it from this blog.  You seriously don't want to get in a debate with me about my candidate, because you will lose and badly.
5. Sexual Assault Awareness and Prevention- I worked as a public speaker while in college on the issue, wrote tons of materials for the Sexual Assault Services office at my university, and have recently been published in a book called "At Issue: Date Rape."  Also along these lines, getting child predators off our streets and out of our neighborhoods is another passion of mine.  I sent letters to every politician in my state and hit the national level as well, in hopes of promoting Jessica's Law.
6. Fantasy Football- I know, just shh.  Sad but true; sad but true.
7. Reading-I'll go through these long periods where I don't read anything and feel like I don't have time.  I've found that when I make time to read something (or three things) I'm a much happier person. 
8. Shoes- It amazes me how excited I can get about a new pair of shoes.  It's like love at first sight with certain pairs of shoes.  I just have to have them!

Eight Things I Want to Do Before I Die:

1. I want to get my Shodan and beyond.  I don't just want to learn kata and go through the routine. I want to gain a deeper understanding of all things martial arts.
2. Get a book published (like one of the eight I started and never finished).
3. See my kids grow up happy and become successful adults.
4. Live at the beach.
5. Go to Okinawa (although I'll probably have to wait until they create some sort of time machine that can shoot me over there instantly since that many hours in a plane might send me over the edge).
6. Be on a talk show (not the Jerry Springer variety), maybe to discuss my most recent publication or as an expert on something.
7. Be able to forgive those I'm currently holding a grudge against-this may be the most difficult thing on the list to do.
8. Start some kind of outreach program that reaches out to battered women or those at risk, teaching them self defense skills and how to avoid bad situations.

Eight Things I Say Often:

1. "Dude"
2. "Na na na na NO!"  (Just ask Lil C-she repeats it like a pro).
3. "Whatever"- I know.  I'm practically a valley girl.
4. "Get OUT of here" (Just like Elaine from Seinfeld.  I even hit when I say it sometimes).
5. "I said NO!" (Just ask Big I-she hears it often).
6. "Aw MAN!"
7. "Not cool."
8. "That's ENOUGH!" (Lil C and Big I often hear this when they're having one of their many sisterly wrestling matches).

Eight Books I've Read Recently:

1. Currently reading: "On Killing: The Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War and Society" by Dan Grossman.
2. Currently reading: "Okinawa: The History of an Island People" by George Kerr.
3. Currently reading: "Whale Talk" by Chris Crutcher.
4. "Karate-Do: My Way of Life" by Gilchin Funakoshi.
5. "Zen in the Martial Arts" by Joe Hyams.
6. "The Daring Book for Girls" by Andrea Buchanan and Miriam Peskowitz.
7. "The Book of Five Rings" by Miyamoto Musashi.
8. "The Way of the Peaceful Warrior" by Dan Millman.

Eight Songs I Could Listen to Over and Over Again:

1. "Promise" Ciara
2. "Far Behind" Candle Box
3. "Showtime" Nelly Furtado
4. "Rehab" Amy Winehouse
5. "Wish you were here" Pink Floyd (Yes, I saw that concert live!)
6. "Hips Don't Lie" Shakira
7. "Kiss" Prince (which I can't find or link to because Prince is having a hissy fit about youtube right now)
8. "This Love" Maroon 5

Eight Things that Attract Me to My Best Friends:

1. A good sense of humor-ability to make me laugh.
2. Honesty.
3. Reciprocity, as in, I'll be there for you; but you know, return the favor. 
4. Similar interests.
5. Intellect-I like smart people, because they're interesting and usually well read.
6. Kindness and generosity-not the material kind.
7. The ability to say just about anything to them, and no matter what, we'll continue to be friends.
8. An interest in having fun.  I love to go out and do fun new things (karaoke, wind surfing, being the first person on the dance floor, etc.).  Stick-in-the-mud's just won't do.

Eight Things I Have Learned This Past Year:

1. You need to do what's best for you.  It may not be the easiest thing, but if it's the right thing, then do it.  You'll thank yourself later.
2. I really can't stand the show ER anymore.
3. Knee injuries SUCK and so do crutches.
4. I'm happier during football season when I cheer for the Steelers.
5. Having a few close friends is markedly better than having a bunch of so-so friends.
6. Ann Taylor and Ann Taylor Loft are my absolute favorite clothing stores.  It's like their clothes was made just for me.
7. There are few things as rattling to the psyche as the potential of losing one of your parents before their time. (A year ago, my dad had a craniotomy to repair a bleed in his brain and there were lots of complications.  Now he's fine and actually went hang-gliding again a few weeks ago.) 
8. Not everyone is going to like me, and that is just fine.  I need to just be myself.

Eight People Who Should Do This Meme and Not Complain:

1. Adam because he's doing this NaBloPoMo thing too and if he's anything like me, he can use the writing material.
2. JellyJules herself because she's the Queen of the Meme and will tackle this with vigor.
3. Karl because he needs to post more already, and maybe if he sees some incoming traffic from BBM, he'll get curious, followed by inspired, and one thing will lead to another and he'll WRITE!  YEAH!
4. Sizzle, because she's got a cool name and a cool blog.
5. Heather B. Armstrong, because HA!  I tagged Dooce.
6. Papa Bradstein because I'm feeling like adding insult to injury since I KICKED HIS BUTT THIS WEEK IN FANTASY FOOTBALL!  OH YEAH BABY!  (And yes, I am one of those types of winners).
7. IzzyMom because I'd like to see her answers to this one.
8. Delmer, because he's a new reader and I like to challenge new readers to defy my insistence that they do a meme. 

Tone Arms the Yamato Way

I went to see the most amazing show this week.  A group from my dojo went to see a performance by Yamato.  If you haven't ever heard of them, they are a Japanese drumming group and they are incredible.  If they ever come to an area near you, spend the money on the tickets to go.  It is well worth it. 

I expected the show to be traditional and rather solemn, but what I got was not that at all.  It was downright fun!  There were five men and five women who performed; and they got the audience involved every chance they had to do so.  The interacting came in the form of making us clap in certain rhythms.  They even added some shouts to the repertoire which had me feeling like it was a kiai training camp.   

I couldn't help but notice, while watching the show, how incredibly toned all of the arms were on the drummers.  The men and women alike have enviable arms.  It got me to thinking that maybe our dojo should look into starting Japanese drumming training.  That's something I could do from a sitting position at least.      

I found one advantage to being on crutches when traveling with a group from my dojo.  Since I'm unable to climb into the third row, I was able to avoid sitting with the three amigos (If you only would have seen the crazy moustaches I painted onto these guys. . . but then one of them was like "Yeah, sure, you can use my picture BUT NO PHOTO SHOPPING!" Bah!  He wrecked all my fun!).  Since these guys (in addition to a few others) acted as my body guards and blockers all night so I could maneuver around, (and since two of the three are black belts,) and since they're all super nice guys as well, I reluctantly post the original squeaky clean smiley version instead.       

The similarities are uncanny though, aren't they?

In all seriousness though, a sincere thanks to the entire "posse" for a very fun and much needed night out!

The Danger of Recorded Material

I was reading a post over at J's place about making mix tapes today.  I doubt kids these days even know what that means.  These days, kids just make play lists on their MP3 players, something I'm still trying to figure out how to do.  They don't have to worry about missing the beginning or ending of songs, or about some DJ screwing up the last couple lines for you.  Making a good mix tape off the radio was a major accomplishment back in my day. 

Sometimes, if I was drowning in algebra homework, I'd just put a tape in and record the entire Top 9 at 9 (or something like that) program on my local radio station, while I sat at the dining room table with my dad and rolled my eyes a lot.  Sure, the recording had commercials and lots of DJ talking but I could get the top songs, listen to them later, AND get to hear if any random boys were dedicating "Please Don't Go Girl" (New Kids on the Block) to me. (Just in case you have no clue what I'm talking about, and for your listening pleasure, because I swear it is still a good song. . .)

On one particular occasion, my mix tape was awesome!  The Top 9 at 9 had featured all of the coolest songs like "Toy Soldier" for example.  I was hanging out in my bedroom, listening to the taped program after school, when the DJ said that it was time for listeners to call in for a chance to win New Kids on the Block tickets.  They were looking for the 102nd caller.

I frantically rushed to my parents bedroom and started dialing the radio station's number.  I knew it by heart from requesting stupid New Kids on the Block songs on a regular basis.  If speed dial had existed back then, they would have been my #1. When calling during a contest such as this, it was quite common to get a busy signal until the DJ announced there was a winner; but my call went through and before I knew it the DJ had picked up the phone! 

"Oh MY GOD!" I screamed.  "AM I THE 102ND CALLER?????"

I was leaping for joy and imagining meeting and marrying Donnie Wahlberg when the DJ wrecked my fun.

"What?" he said with complete confusion and a dash of attitude. 

"AM I THE 102ND CALLER?" I yelled again.

And it was at that very moment that the tape player in my bedroom next door clicked to signal that I needed to flip the tape over. I needed to flip the tape over, and I really needed to hang up the phone.  I slammed down the phone and died a little bit of embarrassment.   

Since I wasn't listening live that day, I'll never know if I was on the radio live or not.  I really hope not.  If I was, I'm sure that the DJ and the listeners got quite a treat that day, and I don't think I ever called into another radio station again.

MP3 Players are society's way of making sure teenagers don't suffer any unnecessary blows to the ego. Kids these days don't know how good they have it.

What's something dumb that you did as a kid?      

BBM brings you "Pimp My Crutches"

So I can't walk.  That doesn't mean I can't go to observe a Black Belt Workout, and that's just what I did (Thanks to Mr. BBM who pretty much kicked me out of bed and the house today to make me go, and Hanshi who invited me to come and watch).  Unlike when I'm gi'ed up, I arrived a little late.  The workout was already in full swing. 

I crutched it up the stairs and when one of the Kyoshi's at our school saw me, she started clapping.  She followed that with a shout of "Now THAT's SPIRIT!" and the entire dojo started clapping and cheering.  I wasn't expecting a standing ovation (o.k. not really a standing ovation since they were already on their feet anyway, but an ovation none-the-less), but that's just what I got. 

I smiled and thanked them and then spent a good part of the workout talking to Kyoshi about good martial arts books, and our soon-to-begin book discussion group.  Our first two books which are going to be discussed simultaneously are "Living the Martial Way" by Forrest Morgan (which I've already read but will gladly dig into again) and "On Killing" by Dan Grossman.  Although I'm sure the idea of a dojo book discussion group has probably been in the works for quite some time, I like to think that it's Kyoshi's way of keeping me involved and included even when I'm sidelined, and that makes me feel incredibly good.

Despite only being at my new dojo for a couple months, I can honestly say that I feel a part of the family; and I am honored to be included in such a stellar group of people.  But enough about that before I get all teary and sentimental. . .

After the workout, I met Mr. BBM at the local fabric store.  I started with ordinary wooden crutches, with uncomfortable rubber grips and armpit rests.  After a day, Mr. BBM strapped some Warrior shin guards on the top and that was o.k.  My Mom took it a step further by replacing the shin guards with egg crate foam secured with duct tape.  But egg crate and duct tape do not a pretty crutch make. 

I'm sure most of you have heard of MTV's "Pimp My Ride" which is a makeover show where professionals take beat up cars and turn them into extraordinary vehicles.  Today was my very own version of that show except my "ride" these days are my crutches.  Keep in mind that I've called in a favor to a friend who owns a Japanese painting kit, who also knows how to write "Nintai" in Japanese.  That will be forthcoming to my already pretty awesome crutches. 

I give you the before picture. . .

 

And the after Asian-inspired crutches. . .

 

Since a girl needs more than one look. . .

 

In case you're wondering, Mr. BBM and I made these without the use of a single piece of thread or a needle.  The pretty floral covers go over top of the asian fleece covers and it all fits over top of the foam and duct tape concoction.  There are also matching hand-grips in case you were too wowed by the top to notice the bottom. Just in case you can't tell from the photos. . . my new and improved crutches are FAB-U-BBM-LOUS. 

If I'm going to have to use them for a while, they might as well be pretty and cool, right?   

Unfinished Business

Thank you for all of your fabulous guesses as to what Mr. BBM would bring me back from Germany.  The man did not disappoint, but apparently he'd like me to be fat and drunk.  Mr. BBM brought me back an insanely good box of chocolates from Germany.  It's the kind of chocolate that you can't stop eating, but if you eat more than two of them at a time you feel incredibly nauseous.  Lil C also highly approves.  She got a tube full of candy and a fairy backpack and doll, but as soon as I opened up that box of very expensive chocolates, she thrust her hand in there, came out with the biggest one in the whole box, and shoved the entire thing in her mouth.  Like mother, like daughter I guess. 

Mr. BBM also brought me back a box of chocolate covered cherries.  One minor difference between these and your ordinary chocolate covered cherries. . . these are filled, and I mean FILLED, with brandy.  I must be honest.  I am not a fan.  I didn't realize that I was doing the equivalent of a shot on a Saturday afternoon after a morning full of karate.  I think I got a little buzz off that liquor filled chocolate and I don't think I'll be eating any more of them.  I also need to make sure they stay above little hands because one thrust of the little hands into that box and we're going to have a problem in the form of a drunken toddler. 

Keeping with the drunken theme, Mr. BBM also brought me a box full of four varieties of chocolate liquors. I got on this little kick last year of occasionally having an evening dessert coffee with a drop of Godiva chocolate liquor, and apparently Mr. BBM thinks I should be having more of those.  One of the liquors has 87% cocoa.  That one's going to be awesome. 

Speaking of awesome, I've apparently figured out who one of my lurkers happens to be. . .

Kyle apparently reads my blog "all the time" and tagged me for this meme, "7 Random Things about Me."  You already know weird things about me and other random facts so this one was difficult.  Hope it holds your interest better than those liquor cherries held mine. . .

1.  I am addicted to Webkinz. 

Do you know what these things are?  If not, then I strongly advise you to go to your local Hallmark store and pick one up.  They are these little stuffed animals that are totally adorable; but that's not the addicting part.  They all come with a code.  You go to the website, enter the code, "adopt" your pet, name him/her, and then get started having fun.  They have games on that site that are more addicting than Tetris (Cash Cow 2 people, it's awesome!).  They also have this tile tower game that I can NOT stop playing.  I admit that when Big I is at school, you can frequently find me on there playing a game or two.  When you play games, you earn money to buy things for your pet like food, appliances, clothes, and furniture.  I can't afford furniture in my own house right now, but I can totally give Big I's pets cool digs.  SO ADDICTING, but on the record?  I'm just playing to help Big I get more money.  Totally.

2.  I have a problem with "belly rubbers."

Pregnancy.  It's an amazing miracle.  It's exciting when you have this little life growing inside of you.  Sure, I spent hours with my hand on my stomach feeling Big I and Lil C kicking and moving all around.  But I was NOT a belly rubber.  Belly rubbers are those who are CONSTANTLY rubbing their stomachs.  ALL. THE. TIME.  When I was pregnant with Big I there was another woman who was pregnant and only a week or two ahead of me.  At two months (no lie) she would stand there talking to me about her baby and rubbing her stomach.  One day, I let her in on the fact that she was just rubbing her distended bowel, and not an actual baby.  That didn't stop her.  I guess she enjoyed aiding her own digestion, but it really annoyed me.

3.  I am an amusement park nightmare.

If it goes back and forth, or around and round, I am not at all interested.  My Dad once made me go on this ride called "The Conestoga Wagon."  It's sort of like one of those pirate ship rides, except instead of just back and forth, it goes up and all the way around.  I told my Dad I couldn't do it but he insisted we all go on as a family.  Thinking back, he was probably worried that I would go off chasing some cute boy while the rest of the family was on the ride (He was probably right).  Anyway, he spent a couple dollars on a lemonade for me right before we went on the ride. It was completely and totally wasted, as I exited the ride and promptly barfed. Water flume rides, water park slides and Disney-ish rides are all good, but anything else is just not.  I'd rather eat my way through a park. 

4.  I can't ever find ANYTHING.

At least once a day, I will usually call my husband at work and ask him, "Where is/are . . . ?"  You can insert the following words into that sentence: keys, purse, shoes, Lil C's shoes, Lil C's tooth brush, that leftover hamburger, Big I's library book, etc.  Half of the blame goes to my brain which can't remember where anything is, ever.  The other half of the blame rests squarely on Mr. BBM who is CONSTANTLY moving things on me.  For example, "Oh here's a hammer.  I think I'll put that in my underwear drawer."  GRR.  By the way, Mr. BBM will deny this but don't listen to him. 

5.  Fellow bloggers are some of my best friends.

My parents think it's weird.  Mr. BBM knows more about you guys than he does about my own family, I swear.  But I value my friendships via this blog so insanely much.  When Karl wrote about going on a date, I wanted to jump for joy.  When Da Mack Daddy and Maniacal Jenn had new arrivals to their families, I squealed with happiness for them.  When Scott beat cancer and started attacking life with vigor, I was overjoyed.  John is like my big brother in the martial arts world.  Papa Bradstein makes me laugh until I cry.  When my fellow martial arts bloggers get promotions, injuries, or something else entirely, I am right there with them, cheering them on, virtually or over my dinner table.  These links don't even begin to scratch the surface.  I have great commenter buddies too, and I love all of you guys (except for those who flame me over stupid stuff, but that's a different post. . . ). 

6.  Fantasy football has ruined cheering for my home team.

This year I was determined to get at least one player from my favorite team on my fantasy football teams.  I figured, that way, I would be able to cheer for my favorite team at least every once in a while.  It doesn't help that I chose the wrong player, but I root against my favorite team a whole lot more than I root for them now.  For the same reason, I try not to take any players from teams I don't like (Dallas Cowboys for example).  People talk about watching "the game;" but I'm much more interested in planting myself in front of the TV throughout the day Sunday and on Monday night to watch all the games.  Two years ago, I considered buying a Ladainian Tomlinson jersey.  I've never even been to San Diego!  Fantasy football has ruined me.  Ruined me, I tell you!

7.  I'm an "acquired taste."

People who take the time to get to know me, know that I am a very caring and generous person.  I'm also a lot of fun.  I'm the girl who will step up and sing karaoke when no one else will.  I'm the one who will do all of the interactive activities at the wax museum in order for me and my people to have the full experience.  However, there are people that I just don't mesh with well at all.  My friend, who passed away last year, used to say that she liked me because she always knew where I stood.  She said I "shoot straight from the hip" and that's very true.  I have no problem telling people what I think; I can be brutally honest (especially when it concerns my sister and her boyfriends).  I'm the girl who will stick up for someone when no one else will, because it's the right thing to do (I once stepped into a very unfair fight and physically removed the guy who was getting beat up by three other guys while onlookers much bigger than I, stood there and did nothing to help him.)  I may not be everyone's "cup of tea," but if we're friends, you can feel pretty secure in the fact that I will always be honest with you and I always have your back.

Who to tag?  Who to tag?  If I linked you above, you're it.  Have fun!

I Wish and As I Suspected

Have you been to the My Heritage site lately?  There's a lot of fun to be had there.  Take this for example: an 80% match with Jessica Alba???  I'll take it.  And, I don't quite get why they always match me up with Asian women.  Maybe they sense my inner karate.  Who knows?  Anyway, who wouldn't be happy with these results?

I thought I'd try another picture and got these results.  Lisa Ling?  I think I'll stick with the Jessica Alba one. 

Also on that site, who could resist proving your husband's family wrong?  See that 10% more like me.

It must be true, because Lil C got the same results with the above picture with 10% and the below with 12%.  Of course, I happen to think they are way off on this one as she is 99% me (including the attitude).

So, who do you look like???

By the way, awesome guesses so far on the German presents.  I'll be revealing the gifts in a future post.  Keep guessing!

My husband went to Germany. . .

. . . and all I got was . . .

Well, what do you think?  Think I'll get anything at all (he comes back tomorrow)?  I'm going with German shampoo samples from the hotel as my gift. 

What do you think he'll bring me?

Feel free to take a guess, even if you just rolled in here on a google search for scallop food poisoning.  My visitor stats are going up like crazy, but my comments are not which means I have a lot of new lurkers.  So, stop lurking and take a guess.