rock facts rock facts rock facts

I want to go to Ladies Rock Camp. There's one in Portland and one in NYC, and both are fundraisers for local Girls Rock camps. I'm excited about it, because I like to rock but I'm not very good at it, and this is a chance to practice rocking with some ladies that won't make too much fun of my problems, since we're all supposed to be learning.

I also like the idea of giving money to rock camps for girls, because more girl rockers = more rockers = more good bands.

heaven on wheels

My bike's rolling again after about a month of exchanging grease for dust in the extra bedroom. I hadn't checked the bottom bracket for a while, and suddenly it was creaky and wobbly. Busy and lazy as I am, I tried to take it to the bike shop to get it fixed, but the bike guy told me to do it myself (you have to know this bike guy for that to make sense).

The reason I didn't ride my bike for such a long time is that it's unlucky. Right before I started having these problems, somebody kicked and bent my back tire. As soon as that was fixed I noticed the bottom bracket problem. I wanted to buy a sealed bottom bracket to replace it, but even that took three trips to the bike shop. It went like this:

"I want a sealed bottom bracket."
"Do you know what size you need? Bring in the old part so we can tell."
"I know what kind of bike I have. Does that help?"
"No."

(later)

"I want a sealed bottom bracket. Here's the old one."
"Do you know what size you need?"
"Uh... last time I was here, you asked to see the old part so you could tell what size I need."
"No, we actually have to measure the shell on your frame."
"I know what kind of bike I have. Does that help?"
"Oh, ok. It's probably this one."

(later)

I'm at home putting my bike back together, and (oh no!) the new part doesn't fit. Thing is, there's two sizes of these, a big size and a smaller size. They are supposed to have sold me the smaller size, yet this one is too big. What's going on? I measure my bike and it's 68 mm. I put the part together outside my bike and measure it; it's 73 mm, but it's marked 68. Huh? I look closer. The cartridge itself is marked 68 mm, but there's a collar that holds it still on the other end, and that's marked 73. Back to the bike shop. They are very speedy, for once, and immediately give me the right piece. Awesome! So today I get to bike to work.

j-j-johnny and me

When I lived in Royal Oak, before my youngest brother was born, I went to preschool and kindergarten with A., who was my very best friend. We moved away when I was six, but A. and I kept in touch for a surprisingly long time - longer, I think, than we were actually in-person friends.

When I visited her for the last time, I must have been 13 or so. We didn't have a lot in common anymore - I remember watching Spaceballs and playing a lot of Sorry!. She played a tape for me ("She Don't Use Jelly") that I didn't really get into, and after that we didn't talk much anymore.

These days I realize she was a lot cooler than I was back then, all listening to the Flaming Lips and watching funny grown-up movies. I wonder what she did with herself after that.

yeah, some people want to steal her heart

Globe-trotting!

Everybody's friend Ryan returned from his time in Kazakhstan for the Peace Corps recently, and a commemorative party was held this weekend. I drove with T. and Bdon to Chicago, spent Friday night and Saturday morning gently chilling, and bought a very sexy new shirt before the real party began.

Swashbuckling!

After a round of vodka shots accompanied by a horse sausage chaser, the rowdiness of the party shot up precipitously. The guest of honor got it into his head to play a game of baseball. Lacking a bat and a ball, we were forced to use an umbrella and hamburger buns. Similarly, lacking space in Neal's backyard, a baseball contingent trekked to the boulevard part of Logan Boulevard. (This isn't as dangerous as it sounds - Logan is divided into three parts, not two: a four-lane, two-way center road with smaller one-way streets on each side. So the boulevard was at the side of the main road.) Since the hamburger buns smashed in midair whenever we hit them, there wasn't really a way to catch the ball or tag anyone out, and we pretty much had to tackle the runner once they hit the bun. The game quickly degenerated into some friendly grappling between Ryan and me, since he'd been asking me a bit about bjj earlier. Bystanders helpfully removed our glasses, both Ryan's shoes and one of mine. (Maybe they were afraid we'd kick each other?) Not long after that, we returned to the main party at Neal's place, me with one dirty sock and one clean sock, Ryan with grass prints all over himself.

Romance!

Back at Neal's place, the fact that J. and T. (who dated each other a long time ago) had each brought a relatively new significant other led to some entertaining storytelling. Everyone had an embarrassing story from J. or T.'s younger, less dignified days. I don't know if J. and T. enjoyed it, but everyone else had a great time. J. and T. sure did a lot of cutely dumb things back in the day.

Adventure!

Everyone at the party liked my new shirt, and it was generally agreed that I can do a little bit of style. So Ryan asked me to go shopping with him Sunday with the goal of helping him become more dashing. Shirts were found without too much trouble, and then we passed Myopic Books, where I picked up One Hundred Years of Solitude and Love in the Time of Cholera. The whole outing was a good time, punctuated by us periodically getting slightly lost. That was fine, though - it just led to extra car time listening to some great albums I hadn't heard in a while. On the way to drop Ryan back off at Jake's place, we passed a coffee house that looked delicious even from the outside - after a hot afternoon of walking around, lemonade was impossible to pass up. I had intended to go home after that, but the J Team and T. wanted to have dinner in Chinatown and I was forced to change my mind. Another slightly-lost episode and a theory about Built to Spill later, we were having bubble tea and waiting for a table with them. Dinner was at Lao Si Chuan, apparently widely known as one of the better Chinese places in town. Delicious! Everyone went to Jake's place for a little while, and then I had a long and exhausting drive home.

when my mind is uncertain my body decides

Yesterday, after a lazy morning and a little bit of work, I met up with B. for a bit of BJJ. He'd missed class Tuesday, so I showed him the two new mount escapes from that practice. Truthfully, I can't get them to work very well, or very consistently. However, having four options for escaping mount instead of two makes my game immensely better even though I am not great at many of them. It makes it easier to keep my opponent from settling down and starting to try submissions. Also, the tiniest details can change how really basic things feel: I concentrated on not lying flat on my back when on the bottom in cross-side, and I was a lot more successful.

After a satisfying and educational hour of jiujitsu and a stint at taiji club, the posse hit one of Champaign's worst bars, the White Horse, to see some possitos play in Champaign's hottest new band, Porn Chowder.



These dudes are going to play at my birthday party. It's going to be awesome.

not good at bjj practice yesterday

Some days, everything you try works. Other days, you try everything and nothing works.

I learned a couple of things, I just felt like I had two left hands the whole time.

Edit: If I let this bother me, does it mean I don't have a good attitude? Eh, everybody gets frustrated. But not everybody drills the next day.

little vicious goes to goshin jitsu

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preventive care

I sprain my ankles pretty frequently (once or twice a year). I just did it again. This is a link to remind me to do exercises for them.

winners get sandwiches

Ever since Brandon & I decided we'd go to that jiujitsu tournament, people at our school have been saying, "You guys are going to tear it up." I'd never heard that expression before, so my mind would immediately fill with the same kind of images that result from hearing about actors chewing the scenery. I had trouble not laughing.

It was a good prediction, though - I won my three-woman division, though I doubt I'd have done as well in the much larger men's lightweight bracket. There was a lot of variety in the matches I had - my two opponents were very cool and very different from each other.

My first and third matches were against J., a woman who was about my size and had killer takedowns. I spent some time trying to get the takedown myself, but she up and threw me, surprising me both times. I always landed with guard, though, and in the first match this led straight to a cross-collar choke. In the third (my second with her), I caught her with a sweep and the match ended (much later than the first one) when I managed a sleeve choke from mount.

My second match was with H., a woman who was much bigger than me - she was the only person in her weight class, so she got mixed in with mine. I was a little concerned about that at first, since size really is an advantage, and she was 1-and-1 with the first girl. But this time I got the takedown, and she kept giving me chances to go to her back. It seemed like her thoughts were, "She's got a better position, I have to get away," and getting away meant turning her back. So I went to the back and she squirmed partly out of it, but when she was on her side I hit an arm bar. I didn't get it very tight at first, and she fought it and rolled us both over, but eventually tapped. At first I didn't hear her (maybe because of the upside-downyness), and I felt pretty bad about that, but she turned out to be OK.

I didn't realize it would make such a big difference, but having coaches really changes the way the game is played. At least two or three times in this whole thing, one of Dan or Mike or Jack pointed out an opportunity I didn't see, or didn't initially think I could make. I'd try it, and it would work, and that would really change the match. Those guys are excellent.

H. was actually from the school my brothers are about to start going to. I met a couple of the girls from Michigan, and they were great. I hope I get to visit them when I'm up there in a couple of weeks.

Oh! And my parents came to see the tournament. I sat with them for a while at the beginning, and they asked things like, "Why is that guy upside down?" But they saw a day-long tournament's worth of matches, I sat with them and helped explain what was up for a while, and by the end they were cheering: "Squish him, B!" My dad even noticed the Jiujitsu Faces on people and asked about it (I'm glad I'm not the only one). After my bracket was all done, we hit a grocery store and made a huge sub sandwich to pass around. Everybody loved it. All those macho guys I go to school with wish their moms would come watch them.

It was funny when Jack met my mom, though. He started saying, "OK, don't freak out, KC's not going to get hurt..." and my mom was all, "Are you kidding? Do you think I don't know this chick?" And I was in the middle, thinking "Ja-ack, you're embarrassing me!"

on looks

Last night I read this post at Feministe, which is commentary about another post at Creek Running North. It's about something that has always felt wrong to me about what the internets call "fat acceptance": can't we admit that sometimes being really fat is not good while still refusing to blame fat people for what might actually be a social problem? (If you want to hear about how social structures can make people fat, read those posts - though they don't mention having a sit-down job with long hours, and they should.)

But that whole conversation isn't what I'm thinking about - I finished thinking about it last night. This morning I put on a shirt that says "this is what a feminist looks like" and some sexy pants. Then I thought, "Is it OK to be feminist and want people to like how my butt looks?" Then I thought, "That's a stupid question. Of course it is."

The conflict stems from a common reaction to an idea that is actually not so bad. People start from "patriarchal beauty standards are screwed up and unhealthy, and the amount of pressure there is on women to look a certain way is definitely bad." That's completely fine. But then they conclude: "we should never think that some people look better than others." That's unrealistic and, I think, also bad.

People have eyes, and they look at each other. Eyes are just tools - they're not necessarily Tools Of The Patriarchy. Relationships are based partially on sexual attraction, which is based partially on looks. Denying that will just lead to guilt and conflictedness about making visual judgements. But it's possible to make visual judgements that don't reinforce unhealthy ideas of beauty. Just like (going back to how I got on this topic) how it's possible to admit that sometimes fatness is bad without blaming, discriminating against, or being hurtful to the fat people themselves.

time to branch out, BJJ anthropology

I've been saying for a while that I need to start rolling with more & different people in jiujitsu. I'm not going to abandon the regulars - there's just a lot I could learn from certain people I don't often work with. The thing is, I'm shy (especially around people that are better than me at something). And the phenomenon that I call Jiujitsu Face doesn't help.

See, when people are rolling, they try to be relaxed so they don't tire themselves out, and they're usually thinking hard and paying close attention to what's going on. They may also be trying to look cool. This leads to Jiujitsu Face: the characteristic face a person makes during a match. People with Jiujitsu Face often make faces that look disappointed, bored, concerned, or very mildly amused.

Sometimes they continue making their Jiujitsu Face off the mat. Then how do I tell if they're actually disappointed or bored, or if they just made that face so long it got stuck that way? Should I be taking this disappointed, bored, concerned person away from the object of his disappointment? Is what seems to me an enjoyable match during open mat really an imposition?

Of course it's not. Hardly anybody is ever annoyed because somebody wants to roll with them. That's why they're still hanging around during open mat. They'd just leave if they weren't interested in doing any more work. But Jiujitsu Face - even though I have one of my own - fools me into being a little less outgoing. Weird.

expensive things I am not going to buy (at least not now)

1. Important, classic book on electromagnetics. (J. A. Stratton, Electromagnetic Theory, McGraw-Hill, New York, 1941.)
2. Sexy gray sequined pants from The Limited. (2a. Pants in general.)
3. Exciting moonstone bracelet from hippy-dippy fair trade store.
4. As much sushi as usual.
5. New glasses.
   

I'm kind of pouty about this. It's not like my life is really luxurious, but I am weak-willed and like to be smart, pretty, and well-fed.

it just continues on that way

From fmhLisa, posting in Hugo Schwyzer's blog (I rarely agree with the guy, and he often assumes that everyone else's experience has the same meaning as his, but the writing is thoughtful at least):

I changed my name when I married at the ripe-old age of nineteen. But I don't think I'd do so now.

I'm still married to the same lovely man, and much much more committed to him now, after thirteen years and three children.

I'm so glad I married him (even so young) but knowing what I do now, I wouldn't advise nineteen-year-old me to change the name.

Basically, I didn't want to hurt his feelings, I didn't want to cause a stir within my family, I was only just deciding that I was a feminist at all. But I do feel like I lost something of myself, gave up my own identity, when he was not expected to, nor did he even understand the sacrifice. And it just continues on that way, women giving up stuff and men not noticing until you beat them about the heads with it.

I feel pretty lucky that I am able to refuse to just give things up like this. It is an important point, though, and just because I'm avoiding it in most areas of my life doesn't mean everyone else is as privileged as me. I'll come back to this later.

Edit: originally I said that Amanda at Pandagon had posted that, and it didn't sound right then either. But I was confused by the order of comments & the names of their authors. Sorry, all y'all.

irrepressible

Excitement: B. & I are going to compete in a BJJ tournament in June. We're trying to get F. to compete too, but right now he's saying he just wants to come watch us. I'm a little concerned about that - F. isn't the kind of guy to skip a chance to meet & roll with new people just because there's a little pressure on. Why's he so reticent now? We've gotta get that guy's confidence up.

In the way of preparation for this advenure, the three of us have changed the way we do matches. Normally we start from knees and go until somebody gets tapped out, and don't really keep score. (This is partly because it's often just me and B., and it doesn't make sense to put a time limit on your matches when there's only two of you.) Yesterday we switched it up, with five-minute matches starting from standing, and it forced me to play a lot differently. I'm not strong and big, so I often am not very aggressive in matches, but I found I didn't have so much time for that. Also my takedowns really suck. I learned a lot, though, and we're going to do it again today.

I'm so excited about BJJ. Anytime fighting comes up (and sometimes when it doesn't), sirens go off in my brain: "eeeeeee i get to do bjj this is so exciting!"

I think everyone else is tired of it.

post punk

My hair has faded to a minty, silvery blue-green (I've been swimming a lot). Some people say it looks "industrial." Maybe it looks a little verdigris-ish, but I was surprised by that.

Yesterday, a BJJ seminar. I learned a lot of great techniques. Also, the guy (visiting from Phoenix, originally from Brazil) talked hilariously about sex all the time. I liked that he swore a lot, though. It let me forgive a little bit of his interesting opinions about ladies.

plumb tuckered out

I swam for the first time in a month or so yesterday. It took a little of the fire out of my jiujitsu later in the day, but I am trying to swim more frequently so that doesn't happen. To that end, I planned on swimming today, but I couldn't make myself do it. I've got reasons - I didn't get a lot of sleep and wanted to go home and nap, I was hungry, my legs were sore . . . but I think all of those things would have been improved by a little time in the pool. Oh well. I'll work out on land tonight, test the water again tomorrow.

(I wrote my first lecture ever today! I think I should have taken maybe twice as long to give it - I definitely went too fast - but it was very informative anyway.)

Compliments

I was on the quad today, just minding my own business buying a delicious popsicle (paleta, actually), when some guys gave me these:


These days there is no such thing as me minding my own business. I mostly enjoy it - not many people go out of their way to say they disapprove of my [green] hair, but plenty of them tell me they dig it. A few people, perhaps struck dumb by my stylishness, can only manage "Hey! Ayyy, green!" - sometimes I smile and wave, other times I tell them I already knew about that. I think looking unusual makes people more willing to approach me. People on the bus, on the street, in the hallway at work, at jiujitsu class, at the park, and at the grocery store all have an opinion. Everybody on the street normally (when my hair is brown) just avoids eye contact. In some ways, this is a lot better.

I recently had to send in a businesslike picture of myself, and I sent that one . . . after converting it to black and white.

I'm like many other martial artists: I wish women would take up fighting sports more. I am actually a little lonely on the mat. Thing is, if I wasn't already into it I don't think I would want to take up martial arts, because I'm put off by the way people market these arts to women. Every ad you see for women's martial arts classes mentions self defense, and I don't believe that's a good way to get women interested for the long haul. "Self defense" is good for selling a weekend seminar, but for something that takes as much time and effort as real martial arts training it's not good motivation. These ads boil down to "study martial arts or you might get raped."

I still might get raped! I am getting pretty good at this fighting thing, but there's always someone who can defeat you. I'm not learning martial arts for self-defense. I spend as much time on martial arts as I might spend on a part-time job because I'm having a good time, not because some ad obliquely threatened me.

Girls just want to get jobs

Citing a recent study by two psychologists (one of them Martin E. P. Seligman, author of Learned Optimism), Washington Post education reporter Jay Mathews called attention to evidence that self-discipline—in particular, a capacity for deferred gratification—may be the best predictor of academic success, better than IQ: Do your homework, and plenty of practicing, before you watch television or sit down to play Xbox. That sounds, I know, like irresistible grist for an argument about whether and why girls might have an innate gift for just that kind of goody-goody, grindlike behavior, but let's not start it. It's a disservice to girls to portray them as destined for diligence, as though conscientious effort were a second-rate recourse for slower or steadier minds, rather than what is really is: a crucial choice that helps ensure long-term success. And it's an even bigger disservice to boys and their college prospects to reinforce the idea that discipline and self-denial are sissy stuff.

This from the end of an article in Slate on the recent ballyhoo about boys not doing their homework. It used to be girls who were too easily distracted to be well-suited for the rigorous academic life. Girls: irrational, emotional, unreliable, college-bound. What goes around comes around, fellas.

dementia pugilistica (in which I talk about fighting)

Recently I've been trying to find girls who want to take up brazilian jiujitsu. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I haven't had much luck. I want some company, and somebody else to help keep the ex-wrestlers in line (they need an ass-kicking periodically or they get uppity). There would be plenty of benefit for the hypothetical girl in question: muscles, fun, confidence, all that.

I just think girls need to get rid of the weakness mindset. I'm proud of my (still baby-size) muscles! They look nice! I'm proud that I could beat some people in a fight. And I'm having a good time. Who cares if it's not ladylike to get all sweaty. At least I'm not prancing around in spandex, stretching and making eyes at men lifting weights. Especially since the gyms I have access to are dominated by college students, that's a pretty common activity around here.

I've noticed that there are two styles of bjj-ers at my school. Especially among the white belts, there are a lot of ex-wrestlers, and they tend to be stronger than average so their matches involve a lot of big motions and powering through techniques. Then there are people who try to operate with a little more finesse - some are ex-wrestlers that got more skilled, but a lot of them are people like me: smaller than average, so they don't have the option of bench-pressing a guy and they have to do everything right. (Not that I do everything right - it's just that if I want to win I have to do everything right. I still lose a lot.) I've recently been avoiding the ex-wrestlers because they're tiring, but I guess that's something I'd better learn to handle.

There are some blogs out there written by women who box that I find encouraging: Brutal Women and Knife Fight are what I've come across so far. What I'm into isn't exactly boxing, but they seem to encounter the same attitudes about women and fighting that I've been thinking about. Truth is, it's a little bit solitary, being a lady fighter. Maybe it would help if I lived in a bigger city.