Wednesday, April 02, 2014

This is me...then

My life is changing. A lot. Some by choice some by design but all for the better. I am trying to understand myself and those around me. Somedays are hard and these changes fit poorly and look matronly and sad. I will work it out eventually. The one thing I've learned is that everything is temporary. 

What is sticking in my craw is not being able to match communication with people. For instance, explaining the difference between anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds to someone who thinks Psychology is voodoo and all pills are a crutch is frustrating as fuck. So I am upset, and I feel unsupported because the person I love and want to marry is a complete clod about modern medicine.

It's the tried and true way of black folks. The majority believe that mental health services are akin to witch doctory. Well buddy, let me tell you about who I was before all that fancy chemical balancing medication I've been taking since the early 90's. It's the only thing standing between me and abject insanity. It's the reason I am able to live the life I have now, and most of the reason you tolerate me at all.

I am a profoundly depressed individual. Have been since adolescence. It's taken forever for me to get to the point where I can feel comfortable even taking the damn things much less tell folks that I do. So when I get pushback (for doing what A. Is smart and B. Is my chosen degree program) from someone who is also profoundly fucked up with years of latent anger and grief, drowned for 15 years in liquor to dull it, I get irritated.

So, while I probably won't tell him, let me tell you who the unmedicated Avin was. Avin, in her early 20's only had trash that clinked. She chain smoked and contemplated suicide daily. She indescriminatly fucked random guys from the internet and the office, spent an inordinate amount of time causing others problems and basically not giving a fuck. AT. ALL. This fucked up individual was someone's mother. A very small, very impressionable boy and though I never put him in the direct line of harm, I did make stupid shitty ass choices that could have turned into a real mess. One night after a high school friend turned stalker found my number and called 20 times in 3 hours I had a had enough. I found Paxil and a shrink after a nervous breakdown and my entire world changed.

Over the years I have changed meds and doctors but the fact remains the same without pills I am a wild card. I found that out the hard way this summer. My cash started running low and I couldn't afford my shrink because of the crapass insurance my former boss offered. So I started running out of meds at possibly the worst time imaginable. My fiancé almost killed himself in a drunken blackout car wreck and I started fretting about the future. My dad was diagnosed with kidney cancer...again, and my folks had to go to California for 6 weeks for his partial nephrectomy. Work got intense and without my trusty meds to bolster me, the depression crept back in and I started spiraling. I was either angry or crying every day. I stopped talking to friends, snapping at family and generally just being a jerk. My anxiety which goes and and hand with my depression started affecting my sleep. I called off the wedding. In fairness, I wasn't getting any help and I was out of money anyway. Then I stopped sleeping, and started trying to combat the insomnia with excersize.  It didn't work. Basically, I was a terror for 3 months, a living breathing monster having panic attacks constantly.

Then I spoke to my therapist who (god love her) let me come free of charge for a while till my money got right. Only then did the world come into focus again. By then I had a mess to clean up, my fiancé was accusing me of all sort of treachery, and my friends were like wtf. Needless to say, if I can avoid going off my meds I do.

So, when I got laid off in March, I was at least smart and lucky enough to reup and fast. I have enough to make it until my ACA healthcare kicks in. That and I had a chance encounter with a lady at my night job (henceforth referred to as my only job) who told a funny story about her cat who comes when she chants. She's Buddhist, and something in me volunteered that I have always had an interest in the practice. She invites me to their center and I take her card. That was the day before New Year's Eve and while I considered attending, my nerves got the better of me but I put her card in my purse. 

Fast forward to my being axed from a job I hated anyway by an awful man with no integrity on Fat Tuesday no less. As I clean out my desk in anger, blinking back tears, I find my Buddhist friend's card and I know immediately what I need to do. So I email her that day  and though I have no job and no prospects I am one thing and that is a practicing buddhist. I have always felt like one in my heart and I took to it like a duck to water. I chant every morning and evening and I fellowship with other Buddhists.

It to me was inevitable. The house full of Buddhas, the enormous tattoo on my back. Come on, I've always known and honestly so did my family. Friends have been super supportive and even the fiancé has been complementary. I feel better, hopeful, happy despite the obvious challenges of having no full time employment and a mortgage.

No matter, I chant the Daimoku and Gongyo with determination and it feels amazing. That said, positivity and purpose are wonderful, but I still have to take my meds. These things do not remove chemical imbalance. Facts are facts. So, that's who I am now but surely, things could be very different for me. I now understand that there are no accidents in Buddhism only cause and effect. Just like being laid off is the path that will lead me to something better, Zelda's card on my desk that day was no coincidence.

Everything is temporary, including this not having a job thing and I know because I chant Nam Myoho Renge Kyo. I chant for my fiancé to understand that the medicine isn't a crutch, and I chant to stay focused and positive about new employment. I even chant for people who  most would feel don't deserve it, like my former boss. It's a daily reminder that I am working toward a better life for me and all those around me. 

Monday, December 30, 2013

Ronda Rousey's Humility Problem

After a weekend filled with debate, I awoke this morning thinking about how little things have changed for women in this country over the last 30 years. Several very ridiculous debates have come about in the last few weeks and while I attempted to wrap my head around them several other incidents over the years popped into my head as well. First, lets discuss Ronda.

This weekend, after months of hype and build up, UFC 168 finally arrived and with it the Rousey vs. Tate fight. Folks who arent into MMA, if they knew anything about this fight at all, only knew what they had seen and heard in the media. I will give the general public a pass on knowing the ins and outs, so this is the story condensed. Rousey, who is the womens Bantam weight champ, has twice fought Miesha Tate. She is an olympic Judo bronze medalist, hailing from a former Judo world champion mother. She has an impressive 8-0 record fighting and beating Tate twice in less than two years. Her record as a fighter speaks for itself. Where the drama comes in is her personality. I've known about the Tate rivalry for a while, since before the first fight and there is no love loss between these two. They flat out dont like each other. Which, up to and during the taping of TUF 18 was mutual. They had shared very public verbal attacks, each giving as good as they got with Tate questioning Rousey's striking ability and Rousey questioning Tate's ground game. Once the cameras came on, it seemed as though the only person not fond of the other was Rousey. In the case of Tate, she seemed game to let herself be portrayed as the calmer, classier of the two and Ronda for her part seemed impatient, petty and perpetually butthurt. Rousey has since said that the editing was very favorable to Tate as she was attempting to mend fences with Rousey every week and clutching her pearls when the olive branch extended was repeatedly snapped in half. The anger between the two came to a rapid boil this weekend and culminated in Rousey's 3rd round win and a defening chorus of boos from the attending audiance as Ronda graciously accepted her belt back and attempted to explain why she refused to shake Tate's hand after the tap. Seems awful right? Well, lets examine this a little further shall we?

First, I dont profess to understand the reality TV editing process, but I do have to say that when you are told that you are coaching with one person, and your arch rival shows up in their place, you might be a little peeved. Second, Tate is well aware that this would upset Ronda, and for his part so was Dana. They seemed almost gleeful about the pairing as there was no way that Tate's presence would rub Rousey the wrong way immediately. Tension is a big seller and this rivalry did wonders for TUF 18. It was one of the most watched TUF seasons in history. In addition, everyone loves a good villan, and it was easy to slide Rousey into this position. She is confident, cocky, unapologetic. She will trash talk you, she absolutley has no quit in her and no room for self doubt. This is what made her a Judo champ and what makes her such a great fighter. That type of thinking and bravado that made Ali unstoppable, it is how The Rock spent most of his early career in wrestling (despite what you might think of the validity of wrestling) and in the same night, a fighter notorious for his grandstanding and mocking of opponants, who was arguably the best MMA fighter in the world, lost his rematch in a horrific injury. None of these people had any issue with being the villain. They were booed and jeered and they still went on to successfuly win or defend titles. The closest I have seen to the type of vitrolic angst displayed by Rousey haters was when Ali was called a draft dodger (this right here is deeper than rap so I will not go much further) but no one disputed his talent and his trash talk was not only tolerated but celebrated and quoted year after year. The difference in this comparison between a Rousey and an Ali only boils down to one thing. Gender.

America, god love it or something, still has a HUGE problem with women. Not just fighting women, or singing women, or reporting women, or business women. Nope, america's problem with the entirety of women in general is the same as its always been. If you arent humble, you are disrespectful and this is where Tate has been able to gain fans over Rousey. Its not about talent, because we were all on board with her and her talent last year during the Carmouche fight remember? No one was in Carmouche's corner were they? Well, she didnt look like Tate either, so there is that but basically put, pretty girls should be quiet and bragging about one's athletic prowess and not being willing to make nice with an opponant is a highly undesirable trait for a woman. Whether she chose to shake the hand of a woman who she felt had disrespected her family or not, the crowd's decision had been made long before that. The snub just added more fuel to the fire.

Not only will Ronda not sell herself short, but she refused to engage in what looked like calculated attacks on her group by the Tate folks day after day during the TUF season. Even after Dana sat them both down to discuss it, Ronda practiced avoidance and Tate just kept poking the bear. The eyebrow joke about Edmund, the socks thing during the square up photo, the training coach who came just to start shit with Edmund to get him kicked off, and how could we forget Tate's boyfriend being confronted about his mysoginistic tweet threatening to punch Rousey's teeth down her throat or the subsequent "know your place" tweet. So, when the media sees Tate smiling with her outstretched hand to offer her congratulations on the fight (after baiting and goating this thing along for months) everyone is appauled at Rousey's lack of sportsmanship when she doesnt want to shake her hand? I dont recall that being a caviot of competition, that you smile and accept the extended hand of your opponant less you be seen as a createn or a nardowell. No, I dont even think we would be talking about this if these two were men.

We are talking about professional fighters here. People who spend their day's and nights training to pound in each others faces and we are all so shocked that they arent going to the nail place together? No, we arent, and if this were a group of men, no one would give a shit about  because it doesnt really matter unless you are a woman. Then maybe you should smile pretty and be everyone's friend and never crow too loudly about your accomplishments and in the words of Brian Caraway know your place. Maybe then you wont be seen as disrespectful and then we can talk about what this is really about. Letting women continue to be mute and sexy agreeable entities who do this for the enjoyment of men, not the love of the sport. The worst offenders by the way are women. You should see the way they have gone on the attack. Joining right in with the men to defend poor Tate against that horrible Rousey. They are all over the comments sections of every blog, report and I tell you, I expect it from men, but the women really shocked me. Women's MMA is already much maligned and those involved struggle everyday to support each other and defend women's right to even be included in this sport. Between the "this isnt feminisim" folks and the "women shouldnt do this camp" it just bothers me to watch women lead the charge against each other. I dont want it to seem like this just applies to physical persuits. Nope, lets talk about this new Beyonce album.

For the last three weeks I have had to hear all about how Beyonce isnt shit. She cant sing, we hate her songs, her fans are annoying. Yeah yeah, okay so depending upon the week that's every women in the entertainment industry. Oh you think not? Lets see. Lady Gaga is too weird, and cant sing, J.LO cant sing or dance, Mariah is crazy, Ciara is a man, Taylor Swift is bitter, Miley Cyrus is a slut, Katy Perry is stupid, Mary J. cant sing, Christina A. cant dress, Adele is too fat. I mean those are just the ones in the public eye right now. Those that have passed? They dont get a break either. Whitney was a druggie, Amy Winehouse was a drunk. I mean there are countless other singers who no one can seem to say anything remotely nice about and of course who is leading the charge? Women. My own friends have bought the hype. Personally, I cant figure out all the hatred for Beyonce. She doesnt bother me one way or the other. None of them do honestly, but the most in thing to do these days is to just complain about how someone who does something you couldnt do on your best day isnt good enough. The new album is a departure from her regular radio friendly fare. She talks about sex with "gasp" her husband of almost 6 years and she had the audacity to bite back at those haters who she was tired of hearing from. God forbid she think she is great at what she does, and speaks about sex. She must be horrible, she cant be a feminist! People please stop it. We have enough trouble making it through the day without having to hear from everyone how substandard we are as women, now we cant even listen to music?

And this isnt new. Remeber when Natilie Maines said something about Dubya and Texas? Jesus they were talking about killing those girls. God forbid they dont agree with your politics. Sometimes it doesnt even have to be political we just have the audacity to breathe and live and suddenly women who dont pipe down are lesbians or dont know their place. It just fosters the male belief that we are emotional and catty. It happens at our jobs, all day on social media, and everywhere you turn. So when people feel like they need to speak up about Ronda Rousey not knowing her place or not being humble enough for the masses I have to wonder when we are going to stop being villified for being proud enough to own our greatness and not cow tow to those who feel we shouldnt brag about our accomplishments?

Friday, December 13, 2013

Good Eats

My inordinate love of food has been pulling me to new places all over town recently. The thing about new places is that when they are good, you almost don't know how to behave. Case in point, you hear about or get the scoop on someplace obscure. You find out that their food is amazing and then the dilemma sets in. If you scream from the mountaintops that you love the place will you ever get a seat there again? Will the quality of the food suffer under the weight of the new customers? Or do you simply keep quiet so you can have all of their delicious food to yourself and run the risk of having the business shut its doors due to lack of traffic? I honestly have no idea what to do in those situations. Right now I am sitting on two fabulous places that I want to reccomend (and I will, give me a min damn) to the world but I know that the more folks I tell, the more people will box me out of a table. Ah well let me just give folks their props.

Cafe Rue in Beltsville

Awesome place, awesome chef, unbelievable food. Seriously, I went with the fiance last week and I havent stopped thinking about the food since we left. In my quest to remain out of the fatgirl catagory (until the wedding) I cant just go traipsing up there any old time I please getting fat off the best chicken and waffles in the entire area. No seriously, you can quote me on that. Never, have I had such amazing, crispy, juicy deep-fried goodness paired with a light and crispy waffle in my entire life. This man has the whole game right. I had the Sriracha chicken and waffle and soon to be husband had the Chicken and Red Velvet waffle. I seriously had trouble finishing it all. Home made hotsauce, pecan butter, just extraordinary goodness of the highest order. I will go back as much as my waistline allows, and I encourage you to do the same. No, go like right now.

Tuesday, December 03, 2013

Honest

Recently I have realized that amongst some circles I am not well liked. To this I say Good! I am sorry, let me clarify if I might. In the words of Fantasia "I'm feeling a little wavy, so right now I don't mind pulling your card".

Fuck your dog ass, turnip shaped husband and his bitch ass friends and your drag queen looking, hooker ass homegirl who don't fucking know me and her ratchet, horrible ass makeup and eyebrow game.

Fuck your lying, smiling, shucking and jiving, never available always lying, ain't about shit probably married ass boyfriend. No one believes him and he should get cancer.

Fuck your coworking bitch ass, and your cry baby, dirty clothes wearing, idiot fucking, lame ass best friend.

Fuck you and your gossiping commiserating with the aforementioned dog ass husband on Facebook cousin and your punk ass manipulative, passive aggressive linkedin stalking ass.

Fuck you, your mammy, your homegirls and your bitch ass, hut dwelling baby daddy for thinking you all matter and for ungratefully mooching off me like a goddamn parasite for years.

Eat two dicks with your ugly pig looking fat ass and your new Philly freeway lookin husband with your shitty no sense having ex-wife ass.

Catch a brick with your woah is me soft, old, no sense having, disease ridden, bitch made "my wife doesn't understand me" please get the fuck outta here ass.

Triple fuck your absentee ass and ya inbred looking, future third exwife and your tribe of barefoot, backwoods stupid ass, recessive gene sporting, hydrocephalus having progeny.

Fuck your disrespectful two baby momma, basement dwelling fail ass and your shady get rich quick parents. 

This is your last mention on this blog. I hope you all climb something high, get up a running start and aim for something sharp on the pavement. All of you go kill yourselves. You are welcomed. 

Oh, oh, collard greens...

Thanksgiving was good. Quiet as hell thanks to an entire faction of the family being missing this year. Shit works for me. Less dishes to clean less sweet potatoes to cook. I am full and contemplating the why's of society.

I had a very busy night at job 2 yesterday and some interesting convo with a coworker. A kid basically. He might be two years older than my kid but he is pretty smart. Good head in his shoulders. I bring this up to mention that I realty think I was some sort of Jewish matchmaker in a former life.

The way I understand it is that the act of matchmaking in the Hebrew faith is called The Shidduch. The way I understand it this comes from a recommendation from family members, friends or others who see matchmaking as a mitzvah, or commandment. I am always attempting to pair like minded love minded souls which I thing might be residuals of a past life. Anyway, the kid. He needs a girlfriend and I think I might be able to help him. The terrible little two-toned skunk hair little girl that spends all her time trying to get with him is not the right one. This heffa had on all cammo errything yesterday. Shameful and tragic. I will spend some amount of time attempting to find him a suitable mate. Not too much mind you, but I can see that the pool he is wading in now is very shallow.

Outside of that I watched the TUF finale Saturday night. I was not shocked by any of it honestly. I figured Julianna would win against Rakoczy and though I didnt want it to happen I saw Holdsworth winning against Grant. Nothing was surprising about either fight. 

Thursday, November 21, 2013

TUF: Episode 12

Of course I came in about 10 min late to the show due to work but what is the first thing I see? Gutierrez. Its three hours to fight time and he still has to cut 8 damn pounds. From what I could gather from the conversation he was 144 the night prior to the fight, and woke up at 145 (the scale on the wall indicated that). He seemed unfazed at first, but I have said it before and I will say it again. Cutting weight, any weight at all is hard. All the Epsom salt baths and sauna stints in the world are sometimes not enough to bridge a big weight gap. I did see one of my teammates cut 16 lbs for a fight once. He is usually a pretty bubbly guy, but between the excessive sweating, running and hunger he was less than amiable that day. I personally think Anthony was a victim of Pena's enchiladas. He and Bollinger talked mad shit about her but they were eating her cooking like someone was going to steal it. So Anthony is bitching about taking breaks and seriously, how is that going to work when you have so much weight to lose? He was clearly the eatingist MF in the whole house and in the end even Baszler couldn't defend his ass. The whole episode is about how this confirmed clown (check my posts I called it week 2) can't make weight.

They switch off to talk about Davey for a while. He is lean and mean. Hungry but lean and clearly focused on winning and getting home to his young sons. Meanwhile, Gutierrez is still bitching about taking breaks and Edmond, Manny and Ronda look like to top of their heads are about to blow off. Now, if you'll recall this is the same, game playing, shit talking, enchilada eating, free pass getting motherfucker who has had the whole season to train and lose weight. Did he do that? Nope. He wanted to talk shit about Pena and try to come for Fissette. You remember that shit. When they asked him "who do you think is the weakest here" and this fool said Fissette. Naww bitch, that's you! You are the softest, weakest link. Talking about "I could take you". Not if you don't make weight jackass. I know what you can take. A seat and another enchilada. It's soft just like you. 

After the official weigh in he has an hour left and he comes in at 140. After a smooth 30 more minutes this asshat says he is gonna quit cause that's what bitches do. Sure enough here comes Dana to publicly embarrass his monkey ass and show him the door but first he gives him the opportunity to explain himself. This fool launches into the most pointless explanation of his mega-epic fail including saying that he doesn't expect Davey to forgive him. Davey for his part promptly says "I wont". Frankly I don't blame him. He wanted to earn this. Not get it by default. Dana points at the door and we bid adieu to Gutierrez and good riddance to big bitches. 

Next week is the last semi-final fight between Jessica Rakoczy and Raquel Pennington. They are both top notch boxers and they both really want it bad so this should be great fight. 

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

No Games

Even though I have seen the last two TUF episodes I have not been blogging about them. Holdsworth beat Wooten and Pena beat Moras. Both were decent fights. I understand that tonight Davey Grant is scheduled to fight Anthony Gutierrez. I really like Grant so hopefully he will give Gutierrez a run for his money although I have to tell you its disconcerting to me that Gutierrez is the sole face of the TUF commercials. Is that foreshadowing? God I hope not. With working this other job in addition to my crazy regular job I haven't really had the wherewithal to recap. I am tired. The fiance had shoulder surgery Monday of last week and its been non-stop. I forgot how hard it is to be someones primary caregiver. Not that the fiance is a remotely good patient, but he was much more agreeable once he got his meds. I am beginning to channel my "No Days Off" life from back in 09. I am seriously not interested in that so I am hoping for sleep and relaxation soon.

So while I am still awake lets talk about GSP/Henderson last week. Which btw I did not order cause its a month from Christmas and frankly I need my cash. First of all, I don't want to speak on it like I watched it. I have only seen highlights and heard a ton of chatter on it. What I did see was that Georges basically had a traumatic brain injury mid fight that had him talking about a break. So, a big WTF to Joe Rogan and especially Dana White on some "He owes us" bullshit. First of all, that man just went to war with a kid we all know is a tough guy. I personally am not digging the Great White Hope thing they are doing with him but that is whatever. Dana going on record to say he thinks GSP lost is some fuckshit. I don't care what your gripe is with the Vegas commission, you are the face of the company and its bad for business to be that vocal about who you thought won and why you think GSP owes somebody.

True story, Dana has made his money off his fighters backs 20 times over. If he wanted he could have a PPV fight with a new headliner just about every weekend. Shoot, at this rate its almost 2 a month sometimes so lets not act like GSP going away to take care of some personal shit would hurt his wallet too much. He has Weidman/Silva coming up, Rousey/Tate and from what I understand Maynard/Diaz 3. He can have a seat. Oh and fuck Joe Rogan too. Stop diggin in that man's business. Frankly if I had just gone 5 rounds with a damn grizzly and managed to live, I might want a vacation too.  Let alone time to let my fucking face heal and repair my damn family life. Stop asking me if I am retiring. Give me a fucking second to collect my thoughts. Fuck outta here Rogan. You get a seat too.

This is why I love Jon Jones. He seems not to give any fucks about Dana's money. When he wants to fight, he fights. When he doesn't, he just simply doesn't. All the kicking and screaming and tantrums in the world don't phase him. He just states his intentions and moves the hell on. He knows that the fans want to see him fight and Dana will get his cash, but they are on his time, he isn't on theirs. Hell, when he decided not to fight Sonnen the first time as a replacement for an injured Dan Henderson (with three days notice I might add) they had to cancel UFC 151 and Dana about threw a rod, but he also went and sat the hell down too so, yeah there's that. Oh and quadruple fuck Chael Sonnen for 1. Still being on my GD TV and running your mouth unabated like a broken faucet about any and everything. 2. Fighting Rashad Evans after promising me and the world that he was retiring after the Jones fight. 3. For being a generally devious and unscrupulous steroid using, right-wing con-man bigot and 4. Simply because I don't like your face.

Okay on to other stuff. Job two is giving me all kinds of access to people watching. We all know how much I love that. The folks there are really nice (no I am not gonna tell you what I do there) and come from all walks of life. I have decided that I secretly love hipsters and saying that disqualifies me from being one. They are so cute with their sleeve tattoos of old box fans and vintage cameras, epic beards and PBR (or natty boh if you know, Baltimore). This job really seems to attract them so I get to see all sorts of fun stuff. Just last week a small wide-eyed 20 something rolled in wearing an ironic raspberry beret with Warby Parker's on, a green gingham skirt and floral track jacket. Like Fuck! Why can't I be fun? I mean picture how adorbs me and the fiancé would be? He in his suspendered slacks and tucked in white tank top with newsboy cap and handlebar mustache a la 30's Strongman. Me in my thrift store cardigan over my Atticus Finch tee and rockabilly jeans with navy and brown oxfords. Hair in a messy bun. Standard wayfarer's of course. Ugh I could totally pull it off right and not look like an ass at....38? Fuck. Lets move on.

Last but not least. Last week was long and difficult but I did learn something very valuable. When driving your fiance around in his truck, and all he wants to do is listen to Eminem's MM2 album, you might have difficulty being a nice person. Not cause the lyrics are road rage inducing. Naww, that ain't it. Not at all. I used to love Eminem. Still do honestly. Still rocking the first MM in my car right now. Still listen to D12s old stuff, still run to Renegade weekly. Everyone was siced about the new album release but me? Not so much. In fact, I haven't liked anything he has done since Encore. Even then I was like "Eh what's all this singing about?" but I let it slide. Now I just flat out cant stand it. The music itself sounds dated. The topics are all still the same. Your ex, your mom, your kid, ICP, pop singers, gay slurs, blah blah blah. I mean is there something else you can be mad at or talk about? My buddy Rachel and I talked about this a few weeks ago. Its the same shit, just repackaged. That and why lord do you have to have a singer on every track? What the hell is that even about? I liked it when you used to just rap. Shoot, I don't even care if YOU sing on your track. Just don't enlist some woman to do it. No Rhianna's, Skylar Greys, Dido's, Pink's or whomever. Please. I like you I really do. Always have. But this sing-songy 2002-esque crap is killing me. I know you are 41, but if Jay can find new shit to talk about (and he is damn near 45) so can you. Just do better.

Christmas is around the corner and my list is no where close to being accomplished. I feel like this is going to be a gift card Christmas for sure. It wont matter. I am studying for a huge test over the holidays anyway so its not like I will have a ton of time to engage in forced conviviality. I am however back on sweet potato duty. You knew it was too good to last didn't you? Anyway, the fam will be fine. They will get their gift card, I get my wine. Everyone is happy.

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

TUF: Episode 8

So I come in as Bollinger is basically breaking from trying to cut weight. Come on son, I need you to put foot to ass with the Gutierrez kid and how the fuck you posed to do that crying in a corner at 140 lbs. seriously I've been waiting all season to watch Gutierrez get beat. Now Raquel is trying to convince him to continue. So Bollinger quits. Dana calls a meeting. So you mean no one is gonna punch Gutierrez in the face tonight? Weak sauce man. Dana is hot. He throws Cody out and not for nothing, Anthony is a pound off too. Oh fuck the crying. You weren't crying when you decided to eat all that crap. So now that the commission is the deciding authority on what happens with Gutierrez.

Ronda seems unreasonable this week. As much as it pains me to agree with Tate there really wasn't anything she could have done to make Cody cut weight or not quit. Turns out Anthony has a choice. Cut weight again in a few days and fight Chris Beal or take the forefit and move on to the next round. Of course he takes the move on card. Dana's face is tight as fuck tonight. We move on to the Moras Vs Morgan fight. Sarah is one tough chick but she is a ground game girl and Peggy is all about hands. She already said she will try to keep the fight standing which is always a bad move. This whole season has been like this. Grappler vs Striker. I can dig it. We all have our comfort zones but no fighter can just be one style. 

Morgan is tall as a tree and lanky as hell. She is also a college professor. Who knew. Ronda is concerned about her takedown defense on the cage. The height and reach stats are so disproportionate for these two. Sara is 5'6 and Peggy is 6'1. I love Sarah but she is shaped like a dumpling. I hate to say that in my current physical state but it's true. Of course we know this means nothing in the ring but it's an accurate observation. Fight starts and Moras is getting in close. She has an odd flatfoot work. It looks stilted. The first takedown attempt by Moras failed. But the seconding was successful.  Moras is in there like swimwear and gets the armbar. Peggy never saw it coming. Anyway. I guess we are on to the semifinals next week. Should be interesting.