June 2006

If web sites were people I’d want to roll around on top of this one.

Yesterday, while playing SudokuCombat against random strangers, I was competing against a guy named “joe”. As I made mistake after mistake, I jokingly said, “I keep screwing up because I’m watching UFC while playing!” and that prompted a conversation about MMA.

As it turns out, “joe” is a writer for Sherdog and he has several friends who are in training to be fighters, and after 40+ minutes of conversation neither of us had finished the damned Sudoku. He was surprised that I was a girl, and more surprised that I hadn’t become interested in the sport as a result of some guy’s interest, and we had some very good conversations about training, competing and what it takes to be a wicked MMA fighter. He confirmed a lot of my suspicions about how guys get into the sport and he confirmed my belief that it is one hell of a sport to train for when compared to other sports.

When he asked what I liked best about the sport, I didn’t want to say, “the homoerotic nature of it”, so I said, “it teaches me new methods of tackling my husband, pinning him to the ground and shouting, ‘DO YOU SUBMIT?’ over and over”. Joe approved, but said, “Y’know, seduction works just as well…”

Seduction is nowhere NEAR as much fun as a leg bar and a headlock, though. COME ON.

In all seriousness, what I love best about MMA – besides the sweaty, half-naked men rolling around on each other – is the incredible ‘raw’ power. These are men who train 6 days a week, lifting weights and studying multiple martial arts, who get into a ring with another guy and pummel the shit out of each other. At first glance it appears to be all about the brawling. At second glance, you notice the precision and speed. After watching for a while it becomes a fascinating dance of skill. To have a response to all your opponent’s moves, to anticipate what comes next, to use strength and agility and skill to counter every action – it’s amazing.

Yes, I enjoy the end result – sweat, blood, busted-up faces – but the skill is mindboggling. It is, as far as I’m concerned, the best sport in the world. I can’t wait for Coffee’s debut fight.

This morning Coffee had to go to the OHIP office before work, so the alarm was set for 6:56 instead of our usual 7:59. After hearing it blare a few times, and after I smacked ‘snooze’ a few times in response, Coffee got up and headed downstairs to start getting ready. He turned on the coffee machine, filled in some forms, then decided to come back upstairs to let me know that I had been distracted by the rats for almost an hour. (I go in there every morning to say “Hello!” and rub some bellies and all that other good rat-related stuff.)

I was not in the rat room, however; I was sound asleep on my little pillow with my duvet pulled high over my head.

I have no idea what the hell happened between the time the alarm went off and when Coffee came to re-wake me. I don’t remember putting my head back down, I don’t remember thinking, “Oh, I’ll just lie here for a few more minutes” and I don’t remember turning the alarm clock OFF. Thus, when I bolted awake and found my dear husband a few inches away from my face saying something about getting up, I experienced a level of disorientation that can only be described as, “WTF happened here?”

Clearly this whole “not working” thing has done WONDERS to disassociate “getting out of bed” with “alarm blaring”. Have I mentioned lately how much I like my life?

Next up, breaking the bond between “daytime” and “need for productivity”.

(Who am I kidding? That one was the first to go..)

It is my humble opinion that a good life must be filled with questions. Why do I do the things I do? Why don’t I do other things? Why do I feel this way? Why don’t I feel that way? A therapist in my past once commented that I was very self-aware, to which I responded, “Isn’t everyone?” I realize, now, that most people aren’t. That realization is affirmed with stunning regularity.

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Dear People Who Play SudokuCombat Against Me,

You people are POOR FUCKING LOSERS. Leaving the game when I have only 2 spots left to fill, killing my chances at gaining some points and then freaking out and disappearing any time we’re connected for a future game? YOU SUCK, YOU BIG WHINY BABIES.

Love,
Dana

Since opening my package ON MONDAY, I can’t stop singing that “Candy Shop” song by 50 Cent. Maybe it’s the excessive quantities of sugar in my veins? Notice that I said I opened the package ON MONDAY and notice that it is now WEDNESDAY and I am finally putting up the pictures of the candy. You may refer to me as “that ingrate” for the rest of the day, if you like, but I really really REALLY loved getting this package in the mail – I just got a little distracted with the immigration thing.

My swapper was Lala who, through some sort of.. magic, was able to find Sugar Babies IN CANADA. Eeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!

Let’s get to the pictures, shall we?

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CANCER (June 21-July 22): In 1982 I moved into a new home in Santa Cruz. It was just a funky old cottage that had once been a barn, but I was ecstatic to have it. As I opened the front door to begin my first day there, a violet-crowned hummingbird bolted inside in front of me, stayed for a few minutes, then departed. I regarded its visit as a phenomenally good omen, and it turned out to be just that. During my years in that house, I wrote my first book, recorded my first music album, fell in love with the woman I married, and conceived my daughter. Almost exactly 24 years later, I’m meditating on your horoscope as I sit in my current abode. “Send me a sign,” I just said to the gods. “What’s in the works for Cancerians?” Now a violet-crowned hummingbird is dancing exuberantly in front of my window, peering in, lingering a long time. I take it to mean you’re at the beginning of a great opening.

Edited, because I forgot to link to Freewill Astrology! Oops!