Zee skateeng, shee ees like a low-vair

Zhou mowst ayprowsh hair like jhou ar een love weez hair... do nowt eet dee too mowsh chineees food befor jhou go to zee skayteeng... she weel know, aynd jhou weel hayv dee gayss. Jhou mowst eet only a leetle beet before jhou go to dee skayteeng.

Zhou mowst also comeet to hair... Do nowt be coy, onlee say to hair, een jhour heart, 'oh, zee skateeng, I am cowmeetaid..." Aydn cowmeet to hair jhour aynkles, dee knees, dee lowair beck, dee tammy, aynd dee owdair parts of jhou... do nowt bee ayfraid to geeve dee floor a wax weet jhour fayce... Eet weel ownly prove to dee skayteeng dayt jhou are hair only lovair...

Aynd do nowt bee showked, eef chee ees ay keenky laydee... jhou weel be sore, anyd jhou weel hayve dee bruiseenk, aynd dee 'rash de reenk', aynd eet weel only make jhou lowv hair eefen mowr.

Tuuuurn arouuuund

For serious, check out my Myspace - Provalone put a comment on it of the Limahl video for Neverending Story... SO GREAT!

Movies Movies Movies

Saturday night I saw The Last King of Scotland. I was a bit wary of seeing it because biopics are usually, you know, bio-pic-y. It's hard to make someone's life into a narrative, the actors look like they're copying archival footage, the makeup artists are working too hard, blah blah blah. But happily, Last King of Scotland jumps these obstacles nicely. I think this is because the rise and fall of a dictator is a classic story, and the narrative's already there. Also, Forrest Whittaker really kicks some actorly ass.

Don't go see it if you're squeamish about seeing people get shot in the head, or with their limbs rearranged, or tortured with hooks, etc.

Then on Sunday I saw Pan's Labyrinth, and it was so so so good. But, don't go see it if you are squeamish about needles. Seriously. Or about, like, people getting their faces repeatedly smashed with whiskey bottles. Ick.

The Night Provalone Lost Her Mind

Ok so the plan was to go to the Freezepop show on Friday night at Galapagos in Brooklyn, but things didn't really work out as planned, and Provalone asked me, 'um, are you going to blog about this?' and I said, 'uh huh', but now, I dunno. I mean, the show was sold out, yes, and Provs was upset, yes, and she did claim to know her way around the city, driving-wise, and yes, she did still somehow get lost, and yes, we spent more time on the BQE and on the east side than we probably would have wanted to, and yes she DID almost start her car while she was still putting gas in it, but... it was still a pretty fun night. I was pretty exhausted from the get-go to be honest, so I was cool with whatever. Really I was just sorry that I couldn't muster up the energy for alternate plans, after Provs got us out of the city. Sorry Provs!
But I don't regard the night as a total loss... Galapagos is on my list now tho'. That place is way too cooler than thou, and it made me miss the Black Cat in DC.

"I have just been informed that all of your children are gone."

There are many, many reasons why I love School of Rock. It' s pretty much, as far as I'm concerned, a kick-ass movie. Of course, Jack Black is brilliant. Of course, Sara Silverman is brilliant. Of course, the kids are good, and the whole fantasy of having a boring month of school turn into rockin' band practice every day, culminating in a specatular battle of the bands showdown, works for me a hundred percent.

The moment that keeps coming back to me though is one scene of Joan Cusack's. She plays the uptight principle of the ultra uber strict private school. She's doing her best but she knows that all the parents are watching her all the time and are ready to blame her for say, having the bologna slices touching the cheese slices on the breakfast tray (witness the dialogue, 'now, I know that YOU know that's a problem').

So she has this moment after it's been revealed that Jack Black is not, in fact, Ned Schnieble, substitute teacher, but is just an unemployed guitar player who scammed his way into the job, and the parents know it, and they've all crowded into her office to yell at her. The parents are in a complete tizzy, speculating on all the horrible things that this man could have done to their children, and her assistant calls her out and whispers in her hear that the class is gone (because they've decided to play the battle of the bands after all and have jumped in the field trip bus to pick up Jack Black.)

She walks back into the throng of angry parents, calls for their attention, and the expression on her face is 90% serene, 10% chagrin, and she says "I've just been informed that all of your children are gone." And then she smiles into the shocked silence that follows. Joan Cusack is so brilliant here because it's clear that this is her very worst nightmare, and there is nothing she can do to avoid it. She has to step off that cliff, there's just no way around it.

It's a feeling I've had before, mostly at work. "I've just been informed that all of your children are gone." Or, at work, "I've just been informed that the software's been broken for weeks." "I've just been informed that we won't be able to get the job done." "I've just been informed that the deadline was moved up to yesterday." "I've just been informed that we're closing the Virginia office."

Having the worst come true - there's that moment of realization, like when you know you're going to throw up, and there's nothing you can do about it. You have to move forward, and the fact that you now know this somehow makes you smile.

In conclusion, Joan Cusack rules my world.

Items in my home that mock me silently ever day

-Food scale.

-Bathroom scale. Blink blink, please replace battery... oh what, you're too scared? Blink blink

-Two five pound weights. So dusty!

-One ten pound weight. So VERY dusty!

-Acoustic guitar.

-Electric guitar.

-hiking boots.

-skinny jeans.

-old copies of my resume drafts. Always a draft, never a finished copy.

-computer

It has recently come to my attention...

...that some people actually read this. I'm trying not to become alarmed at this news.

Cut-throat said she read all of these posts because she was stuck in line all day. This led to a discussion of who reads blogs and why, and she astutely stated that people read them to see mentions of themselves, which is true, so I'd like to take this opportunity to give Cut-throat a shout-out. She's a lean mean skatin' machine, and she wears her mouth guard attached to the top of her helmet, so it looks like she's wearing a beer helmet, and one time I said, "Hey, it looks like you're wearing a beer helmet!" and she was all, dude, do you know how many people have said that? and I immediately felt a deep sense of shame. But then we skated some more and I got over it. Cut-throat rules and is slated to kick ass both on the Nightmares and on the Garden State Roller Girls travel team.

And now back to our regularly scheduled rambling.

Buffy-oke, the L train and Slovenliness

This weekend was jimmety-jam-packed, in a good way, woohoo!

Friday night me and Ponce de la Provalone went to das Willage for the Buffy Once More With Feeling singalong. Because I am an early girl, I insisted we get there at 10pm, cuz I thought there'd be big long line and whatnot. We got there and there was no line, and when we picked up our tix the guy was like, "Oh, I can tell you're here for Buffy. You have that look." And I was all, uhhhh, I dunno how I feel about that, cuz Provalone had pointed out some other Buffy fans on the train in and they were, well, fug. Like, oh, I'm sorry you got hit by a truck fug. Anyroo, so we went to a diner across the street and I ate ice cream and then Ms. Legs showed up, and then we noticed that hey, there was big ol' line outside the theater! So we went to stand in line in the cold for approximately forEVer.

The Buffy fans were an even mix of cute gay guys and cute chubby girls. We finally were seated and at first I didn't have such a good time because there was some crowd-warming filler stuff, and frankly the non-actor "cast" kind of got me down. Just in the way that nerds, when you realize you are one, kind of can get you down. But then the thing finally started for real and it was very, very fun. Singing along with a bunch of strangers rules. At first everyone's a little scared to sing, but then everyone starts singing and it's just awesome.

There was minimal heckling, probably because we Whedonites revere more than mock. We really do think he's the best thing since Star Wars. No Doubt.

Anyways, it was over and we bid a fond farewell to Legs and rolled on home, and after I dropped Provalone off it started mini-blizzarding so I took a leisurely 20mph stroll home on the Parkway.

Then on Saturday, I had to get up way too early, considering I got to bed at 4am, to go into Williamsburg to meet some friends. My fave thing about going to Williamsburg is taking the L train. On the way in, a guy with a guitar came in and played and sang a probably South American song, and on the way out there was a guy playing Beatles songs not very well but still enjoyably. I mean, hanging out in Williamsburg was fun and o' course seeing the friends was fun, but I really like the train.

Then I went home to my messy, messy, messy room and my messy, messy, messy car. Provalone has told me I'm not allowed to drive her anywhere else until I clean it out. I don't blame her. Nor do I blame anyone who's disgusted by the messiness of my room. I feel particularly guilty because I harshly judge those who are messy when I go to visit them. So, I should be a neater person, no? Is it possible to change that sort of thing, to go from being a slob to a neat person? I can't help but think I could only achieve it by peer pressure, like if I was dating someone who was horrified by my throwing my clothes on the floor. But then again my mom's horrified by my dad's messiness, and he's pretty much still messy. He, like me, just confines it to his own spaces, and it still ticks my mom off...

IloveskatingIloveskatingIloveskating

I took a pre-practice nap last night, since I get home around 5:30ish and practice ain't until 9pm. I've been spending that time staring at TV, but I decided to give nappin' a shot.
I was groggy when I woke up, and it took me a while to shake it off, but when I did, practice. Was. Awesome.
We had a guest coach named Steve. Steve would ordinarily be teaching people how to ski, but, ha ha, no snow for you! So Murder City Mandy and Jenna Jamitin got him to guest-coach us in the fine art of speed-skating. We really only learned two things: skate with your body and lean forward into the turns, but it was incredible what a difference it made. He'd work with two skaters in the center while the rest of us did a weave drill, and after I had my five minutes with Steve, I was actually excited to keep doing the weave drill, because I was skating so much faster and it was taking much less effort. And you know how I feel about weaving, normally...
So yaaaay skating! Then I got home and didn't fall asleep until 1am. More naps today!

I did my 20 laps in 4:05

After doing five laps in 1:01, I was so nervous about doing my 20 laps in 5 minutes that I've been dreaming about it. The only thing more boring than doing 20 laps is dreaming that you're doing 20 laps.
Anyways, the main thing about it is, it's really aerobically hard. Even with my supa-cool new skates, my extra-grippy outdoor wheels, and my Swiss Bones bearings, I was breathing hard by lap 6. I wasn't shaky and didn't fall, but I found myself thinking there was a good chance I'd actually be too tired to do all 20 and have to stop. Luckily I made, I think just by maintaining a steady pace and telling myself I didn't have to sprint. So, I ended up with 4:05, which isn't amazing, but it's passing.
In other news I finished reading Citizen Vince and it was gewd. Not the best book ever, but enjoyable. Hooraw!

I mean...

Sorry Mrs. Pinchloaf, actually I meant to write 20 laps in 5 minutes... :) Yeah, I probably could do 10 laps in five minutes.

1 Minute, 1 second.

So, we've been doing skills testing at practice, and last night we finally got to the thing that was stressing me out the most: the speed test. We had to do 5 laps in 1 minute. Everyone else from my team did it, and I went, and I was really nervous and wobbly, and my time was 1 minute, 1 second. Yeah. I was one second over. To say I felt chagrin would have been putting it accurately. And, kind of boringly. I mean, I didn't cry or throw stuff. I was just like, man. That sucks.

Also while I was taking the written test, Oriental Express broke her ankle. The fall wasn't dramatic; I missed it and I don't think she yelled or anything. Just when I looked up she was in the center on her back with ice over her ankle and the police (never far away in Branch Brook Park) were strolling in. "You ladies get a little rough?" one of them said, which was kind of funny, since we had not, in fact, been getting rough at all. Or, maybe we were, I can't say cuz I missed it.

The paramedics came and strapped her into a chair and took her away. She was very calm. I hope she didn't for reals break her ankle; I hope it was just a sprain and she can come back soon, cuz she's awesome.

There's one more trial left: 10 laps in 5 minutes. I'm trying not to stress about that one either...

Awesome stuff I got for Christmas

Santa was very good to me this year, despite Santa's stating that Santa really wasn't going to get me much this year, Santa went to China and is going to Patagonia and really, it's more about family anway... This is a spiel that started up a few years ago, when my sister and I were both out of college and therefore officially 'grown up.' It's always a total lie.

-brand-new Sin City Riedel 265 roller skates... mmm, new-skate smell! With lace-to-toe action, for people with deformed feet. My feet aren't defmormed just yet, but who knows what a season of skatin' will do!
-wrist-band that says, "I'm not mean, you're just a sissy"
-uber-geeky-cool glow-in-the-dark power-button T
-fuzzy socks
-four soft'n'fuzzy sweaters
-book of short stories by the woman who wrote Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, aka the best book ever
-Lisey's Story by Stephen King
-Ott lamp, to chase the winter darkness blues away
-Gothic Archies CD
-Raconteurs CD
-cool 50s style lady calendar
-blue scarf with vintage Chinese hookers printed on it, tres pretty
-uber-cool new bag
-Harajuku girl barrettes
-book of stripper pole moves
-book of how to make tshirts into cooler tshirts
-Radio Dept. CD
-New Yorker subscription
-safety-pin-pearl choker (yay!)
-marzipan chocolate piggie
-TimTams! aka the best cookie ever: 2 cookies with chocolate cream in the middle, covered in chocolate. Just 2 WW points per serving, too.

So, YAY MY FAMILY! I HEART LOOT!

Mo' sprinting!

Last night at practice I did ok. Not awesomely fantastic, but better than usual, I think. Of course, we didn't do suicides and we didn't do weave drills.

We did do a sprinting drill that just about killed me. We sprinted for 2 minutes, and then did a skills test skill for one minute. For the first round, the sprinting was followed by squatting and not picking our feet up, and then sprinting followed by gliding in a squat, and then sprinting followed by hopping with both skates off the floor, and then sprinting in the opposite direction. So basically, heavy cardio followed by heavy anaerobic stuff. It was tough. I had to take a water break before it was over.

We also did a pack drill that was really fun, and we did a push-cart drill, where we all squatted in 2 lines and one person pushed the whole line. So the next thing in my on my own training will be static squats - basically squatting for as long as I can at one time. Man, squat is just not a pretty word. And squatting is not the most attractive thing to do, but I will say my legs'n'arse are startin' to look HAWT.

It was all fun, altho' I have to say the most funnest was practicing whips with Slam'n'Legs. I'd whip her and she'd glide in a superman pose, and then I tried it and it's true, when someone grabs your arm and flings you, the natural thing to want to do is to pretend to be superman. Also whips are fun because they're not intensely aerobic or anaerobic, so in other words it's the only part of practice where I don't feel like vomiting and/or passing out.

And Ad I Do Like

This morning I saw an ad where people are going on about their lives when the ground starts shaking and the all start falling down and cars are rolling over and it's chaos, and then the camera zooms out to reveal a super-studly black model holding the earth, only he's dropping it because he has a bad headache. Then he gets some Excedrin and is ok again. It's cute, and there's hot people in it.

I have a problem with the Verizon DSL Commercial

Actually, I have many problems with the Verizon DSL commercial. I will list them here. I think you probably know which one I'm talking about, because it's an annoying testimonial, and it's been running for approximately a bajillion weeks now.

Anyways, my problems:

-The color scheme. Verizon uses it's trademark Colors of Evil - red and black. The background is red, the people are wearing red, or black, or red and black. The colors of blood and darkness portend a terrible future if you get Verizon's DSL.

-The cast. Older educated black professional man, young sophisticated gorgeous black female, vaguely blue-collar young attractive Italian-American or Latino male, pale 30something white guy who's vaguely concerned that his mousy wife is using the interweb to shop. (GWAH? Next she'll be VOTING. STOP HER.)

-The script. Young sophisticated gorgeous black female actually says, "Now Phish REALLY rocks." Um, has anyone at Verizon ever heard any Phish? They do not rock. And that is not a matter of opinion. It is a fact. Also, has anyone at Verizon ever seen the people who listen to Phish? They are not sophisticated, or gorgeous, and they're mostly not black. I know Verizon is challenging our racist assumptions, but come on. The only correct way to have this horrible piece of dialogue work would be to have a stubbly scruffy blonde hippie drooling out "Now Phish REALLY meanders for hours 'improvising' sort of like the Grateful Dead."

-The script again. Older black professional guy says, "I love using this thing now!" Um, he doesn't call it a computer? Or a laptop?

-The line readings. Older black professional guy has to sort of sing "Now I can get music like the rest of the world." I don't blame the actor because I think he chose to read the line straight and then some Verizon exec held a gun to the director's head who pleaded with the actor to please sacrifice all sense of logic and dignity.

-The theme song.

argh, carpal tunnely!

My left wrist is killin' me today! I slept wrong or something last night and now the left side of my neck is all sore'n'tight and my whoe left side is effed up. Boo!

Sprintervals

As I've blogg-ed previously, my aerobic capacity sucks. It doesn't suck as hard as it used to, but it's still not good. This has been proven time and time again at roller derby practice, where I'm generally the last to finish almost every drill (except for suicides, and that's because a) we usually do them first so I have more energy and b) I cheat at the end. Ha ha, suckers. But kids, I'm only cheating myself. So that I won't be last at everything.) and am always a red-faced sodden headache-having mess.

So, if I'm going to survive 2 20 minute periods of 2 minutes of skating hard with 1 minute rests, I must train for same. I have now had two running with sprinting interval workouts, one on a treadmill, one running outside.

On the treadmill, I was able to do 4 intervals of 2 minutes sprinting, one minute jogging. After that I was done. I only did 25 minutes of running total, also, so I didn't feel like it was the greatest workout. Then yesterday I ran for 30 minutes and did 5 intervals of 2 minutes sprinting, 2 minutes jogging. I'm afraid that part of this is that I'm just going to have to get used to feeling terrible for 2 minutes at a time, and will have to push myself to being in that state for longer and longer. I just don't see any way to get better.

O' course, I'm also trying to avoid injury. So tonight I won't do a sprinting interval workout - If I do work out, I'll just do a more low-key endurance workout.

Good story, right? Yeah. I know.