I bounce well…

Ouch. Human floor mop tonight — spent more time on ass, getting up from falling on ass or rolling about from limbs to ass, than on skates.

But, discovered I’m pretty good at blocking, which makes sense as it’s in many ways just a mosh pit on wheels.

Praise the lord and advil … or maybe just the lord of advil!

Ronnie James Dio Was the First

Ahhh. Acupuncture high…. Mmmmm…..

Suffering lately from insomnia — not the falling asleep end, but the staying asleep. The brain, she is addled methinks… I like sleep. Sleep is good. I went many years without it, all hopped up on the graveyard shift at Sparky’s, the studio, at shows or just plain having fun.

Sleep = good; insomnia = gr.

Many years ago I was an extra in a movie called Dream for an Insomniac, which involved hanging around all night in an evening dress waiting to sit in the background and, in the end product, turning out to be just a human-esque blur of speck over someone’s shoulder.

The chick who used to date Anthony Keidis was the star, and I remember watching her, thinking she was dumb, but feeling jealous none-the-less: he was but one of the objects of my grunge-years hair farmer fantasies.

A few years later I was sitting on the ground at school, tired, much like right now, drinking wine pilfered from an opening and smoking Marlboros on break from the printing studio. The opening was for a magazine called Juxtapoz, and as I sat, oblivious to the all the lowbrow testosterone gods, I couldn’t help but stare at the dude standing right next to me who looked like a cross between a drag queen, Cher and a monkey. He wasn’t cute, but the 14-year-old girl in miniskirt and fake boobs seemed to think otherwise.

It was Anthony Kiedis.

My rock star fantasy was dashed to bits, snuffed like the films my roommate liked to watch on the living room wide-screen TV at all hours of the day.

Until a few days, weeks, months — who knows — later when, at another opening downtown, Dave Navarro brushed past me.

The rock god, I realized, is alive and well, as I stood panting. Unfortunately, some, like Anthony (and itty-bitty Eddie Vedder is a super nice guy so I just can’t dis him) look better on TV.

Which is exactly where I’m headed. I’m tired. Too tired. I need an influx of Sex … and the City!

Dear Diary…

In spirit of desire to write more than takeout food order on a daily basis, have decided to institute diary-esque entries into this here space. Seems like a good idea as I’ve been a total slacker lately, and find myself wondering a.) why I take a writing workshop when all I do is read other peoples’ stuff and b.) why my muse hates me …
With that in mind, shall make at least one entry per day, staring this week. So, without further adieu:
… wait. Oh shit. Bloody hell! Gr…. heh…
Technically started Tuesday at the tail end of Monday near the bottom of a bottle of merlot, in conjunction with mindless Irish cheese and French bread snacking. Must stop all of the above … now … I swear…
Second start to the day wasn’t much better as it involved me riding a trolley/train combo to the ‘burbs to spring my car from the repair shop. After approximately six months of driving on an expired New York inspection I decided it was high time I give in to the fact that I live in Pa. and my East Village sex/drugs/rock’n’roll lifestyle fantasy has been replaced by WaWa soft pretzels and tourists blocking my path near the Liberty Bell, for at least the near future. 
And so, after attempting to trade my first born for the keys to the newly fixed shiny happy legal nearly new-ish VW, (They explained they don’t accept first borns as payment as they are generally more trouble than they are worth, what with not being able to feed themselves nor change a transmission. I concurred and remarked it’s probably a good thing i’ve never actually spawned one.) I hit the road. 
Approximately five miles later the check engine light came back on.
Have thus decided that rather than living on Top Ramen and cheap coffee I will simply buy a roll of black electrical tape. Like wailing, grinding and clanking noises indicating car needs fixed, which I generally rectify by turning stereo up, annoying long-term check engine light isn’t on if I can’t see it…
And again, even though I lost two hours of my life a few weeks ago getting pressured to buy a new one, vowed to never, ever ever ever ever buy a Volkswagen again. (Although, am inclined to write letter to VW of America commending them for recent ad campaign featuring truth in advertising: they may call it a Fast, but it’s still a gremlin, and yep, all new VW’s come with them… you have been warned…)
Following Schuykill adventure got to work, drowned in e-mails, responded to HR that yes, I would be very interested in Weight Watchers At Work (after reading previous message about leftover cookies in cafeteria, getting daily cardio in by rushing across building and knocking down CEO [which also doubled as rollergirl practice, right?] and snatching four cookies, two brownies and a bunch of grapes, which I used to disable sugar-crazed co-workers in pursuit).
Drowned in more e-mails, surfed eBay for going-away present for dept. manager, ate lunch and brushed teeth. (The latter turning into own personal celebration after using toothbrush from makeup bag. It seems the glitter from Sunday night’s bout opened up, and only just now, upon return trip to loo, did I understand coworkers’ comments regarding my "exceptionally bright smile.") 
Vowed to come back in next life as a hermit …
Or a Fast…

Shameless Self Promotion!

Tonight’s the night: Heaven and Hell on Earth in the good’ ol Garden State . Woo hoo!


It’s about noon now and I’m just schlepping down the last dregs of my gallon of coffee before dragging myself out the door. There are errands to be run, things to be purchased and weekly un-fun chores to be completed before tonight.


But that’s not stopping me from heading out to Holiday Skating Center tonight and having some goddamn good ol’ fashioned fishnet and mini-skirted fun …


And that shouldn’t stop anyone else, either.


So, the doors open a 6 p.m. , bout starts at 7 p.m., and the place is super easy to get to:


From Philly just head across the Betsy Ross Bridge , get onto Route 130 (Burlington Pike), and, in New Jersey left turn form, there will be a Creek Road exit to the right. It’s over a river, and there’s a green highway sign as well for Creek Road. (If you look it up on Google it’s Riverside, NJ, on Mapquest I think it’s Delanco. Total bullshit — just hit Route 130, there’s some big resort-y looking place also called Holiday — it’s easy to find, just go. I got there with zero sense of direction — anyone can!)


There will also be loverly hand-painted signs reading “Roller Derby” with arrows pointing the way at the corner in all directions as well, courtesy moi. (Yo, can’t let that art degree go to waste, eh?!!?!?)


Cross Route 130, at the light right past the WaWa on the corner turn left, and be amazed at the amount of cars and people swarming into the skating rink parking lot, a very short bit down the road on your right.


I expect everyone to be there, damnit!


In the meantime, I guess I’m going to leave the house or something … a croissant is calling my name …

The Dryer Hates Bunny Soft

I wish someone had told me that the socks I keep buying at Target that are the tactile equivalent of millions of soft kittens snuggling and purring all around your feet cannot be put in the dryer. Sadly, the soft sock bunnies have now been replaced by evil scratching foot killers…
Please, let this be a lesson to y’all; don’t suffer the same horrible fate as my hurty feet!

Girl-On-Girl in the Garden State!!!

The time has finally come for some hardcore, hard rocking, hot girl-on-girl action, and you know you want to be there!

So, get your ass out the door and across the Betsy Ross for the premiere bout of the Penn Jersey She-Devils all-girl rollerderby, Heaven & Hell on Earth, next Sunday, March 26, at Holiday Skating Center in Delran, N.J. Doors open at 6 p.m.; ass-kicking will commence promptly at 7 p.m.!

Though I’m still a newbie, rockin’, rollin’ and occasionally rolling around on the floor (just call me Grace!), I’ll be there in full flame-skate, fishnet regalia. The real action, however, is going down on the rink: the Fallen Angels vs. the Sadistic Sweethearts. Trust me, I’ve watched these chickies in action, and there’s gonna’ be blood!

We’ve got tickets on sale right now, so get your hands out of your pants, grab your wallet instead, and click here to find out where to buy them, or order them online. You can also get them at the door, but you’ll cough up $3 extra, and why the hell would you want to throw away the cost of a perfectly good Special? (For all you non-Philly dive bar aficionados, that’s a shot of Jim Beam and can of Pabst. Mmm-mmm-good!)

For those of you who want to get as close to the action as possible without being an actual rollergirl, VIP seating is $25. Plus, there will be an open skate following the bout, for those of you who want to court death just a wee bit more — we promise not to hurt … much.

We’re also looking for sponsors; as a team-owned operation we’re always looking to partner with the same people and products we live, work and play with here in the Philly region, and beyond. E-mail me for information on our sponsorship packages and get your name on one of the fastest-growing (and hottest — admit it, we’re cute!) sports around.

Plus, we don’t skate in Camden, so you won’t get shot…

Once you’ve had a chance to check out our skating chops, check out some awesome underground music on Friday, March 31, at URBAN DK, God’s Basement, 5151 Warren St., Philly. It’s hosted by TruSkool Productions, one of our best sponsors. $10 gets you out of the house, into a super cool event, and another chance to hang with chicks on skates. We rock, and so will you.

Until then, happy St. Patty’s Day, drink some green beer, and get your tickets now, damnit! (And don’t forget to come find me at the bout so I can actually meet the people who read my stuff!)

She-Devils Rollerderby Opening Bout!

Having a tough time typing these days — spilled a glass of wine on my keyboard, which is making the keys sticky, not to mention it smells like a bar. Plus, I’m sitting here with a heating pad on my shoulder because I suffered my first quad wheel injury in years! Had a good time doing it, though, but in the falling department, I can definitely use some practice, which I’m sure I’ll get!

And, speaking of quad speed demons, I expect everyone reading this to come to the Penn Jersey She-Devils’ first bout of the season! Or else….

Nodding off in NOLA

So I’m sitting in a conference room in the middle of New Orleans talking disaster management.


What I really want to do is go to Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo. I think I need some new mojo. Or just something fun to do.  


This is such a cool city, and it’s too bad I’m not here for fun. I did hit the French Quarter yesterday, and drank chicory coffee and ate fried balls of powdered sugar-laden dough.


Wandering back, I hit some tourist dives and sex shops, and literally walked into a parade of drunken Irishmen. By the time I made it back to my hotel I was nearly falling over from the strings of green beads around my neck.


I think this could be my new favorite city.


If only I could get out of this laptop, air-conditioned, sunless, bland coffee hell!