AIDS Trails, Pea Patches and things we can do.

I was allotted a P-Patch today! It's 10'x10' only 8 blocks from my apartment! For those of you who don't know, a P-Patch is an urban/community garden plot. There are all of these community gardens all across the city and I signed up for one last spring/summer. Of course I was too late to get in on it last year and I barely made the registration deadline this fall (I called in on Friday at 5:30 p.m. after offices were closed) but I got in and today was awarded my very own spot! (I love dirt!) The funny thing is I don't come from a family of gardeners. My mother always assigned me to weeding the flowerbeds as one of my chores and after griping about it enough, I eventually found great peace and quiet in weeding. (It was funny, she asked me a few summer ago how I became so good with plants and I sighed - all of those summer you made me weed, I read the little tabs with the plants and learned about them.) So now I have my own patch, with community tools to share... I can't wait to plant basil, carrots, tomatoes, peas... yum!

A month ago a community educator from the HIV Vaccine Trails Unit spoke at the PPWW Young Professionals meeting. He was dynamic and passionate, hilarious and charming, in his enthusiastic speech about the HIV Vaccine Trail. I had seen a bus ad for it when I first moved to Seattle, read more about it at the AIDS Walk in the summer and it wasn't until I heard David talk about it that I remembered I was so interested in it. I decided a few weeks ago to volunteer for it. You are not given a live virus or even a dead one. Three (3) pieces of man-made DNA are spliced into another virus (common cold) and you are injected with it to see if your body builds any kind of response to it. It was a year long study and I thought, I am, sadly, NEVER going to be a research scientist and find a cure for this horrible disease that has seemingly impacted so much of my life from growing up in the 80's to its horrible effects on my communities in the Peace Corps. so I might as well volunteer for a possible vaccine - at the very least.

It turns out that I am short on Adenovirsus antibodies (which mainly cause respiratory infections) which mean NOTHING about my general health as anything 2/3 of Americans don't have them (but they wanted volunteers with these antibodies present for this study). So I'm going to have to wait until July to become a part of another study. In some respects, as a healthy young woman, its the very least I can do.

Some people find it courageous to do something like be a part of a vaccine study... but there are a million things we can do like eat tasty meals at our local restaurant and Dine Out for Darfur which in Seattle will be held on Tuesday, April 3rd. I don't have a scheduled skate practice that night so some friends and I are going to go out and eat... not from the P-Patch just yet, but for an even better cause.

B-I-N-G-O! On a quiet weekend...

Woo hoo! I was a bingo winner on Friday at the Grave Danger fundraiser for their Chicago trip. I was out to support my friends Skate Trooper, Sara Problem (always) and other GD members and play bingo. I love to play games (especially if there are prizes involved that I can win!) And I did win (promptly started screaming and forgot to yell bingo at first). It was great fun and great to hang out with some pals (Jeremy, Katie and Katie) that I hadn't seen in a while.

Saturday started with Internet problems that I tried to fix by "contacting your local administrator" who happens to be my brother. It turns out my provider was down which forced me down to one of my favorite coffee shops where I drank in my own brand of sunshine (Americanos) before going to the gym to start my new routine. (Before I had Internet at home, I spent many hours in coffee shops, writing emails, drinking coffee, being out and about.) Then it was off to another Kelly Rae Cunningham art opening followed by a birthday party and late dinner in Eastlake - the Eastlake Bar and Grill has revamped their late night happy hour menu. (It's sad that I know these things).

Sunday was sunny and spring. I grabbed Lara and headed over to Coffee at Bird on a Wire in West Seattle for coffee, breakfast and chatter with my skate coach Nate - then over to Discovery Park for a hike - which felt fantastic to be out in the sun. We went down to the ocean where it was low tide and looked for "reluctant creatures" and found a tiny dungess crab and a hermit crab. Two crabs and birds. No star fish or little fish in the tide pools. But it was nice to be reminded how small we are in the grand scheme of things.

And of course, to win at BINGO.

Traffic, Thunder Storms, 4th Dimensions

I know I've griped about this before but I honestly don't understand the traffic patterns here in Seattle. It took me over an hour to get to Everett on Friday at 3 p.m. (not rush hour) and two hours later it took 25 minutes. It's hard to understand where everyone is going and why they all decide to go the same place at the same time. Sundays at 1 p.m. going into the city is nearly impossible but who knows when rush hour really starts on Friday. Today was an easy Monday drive into work (didn't get up in time for the bus) and other Monday's I've sat in traffic for 40 minutes. I truly, just don't understand it. Where is everyone going? And why?

I dreamt about thunderstorms the other night. I was flying in an airplane to Cleveland and could see the thunderstorm as we approached the city - fantastic lightening! I was slightly nervous (I've flown in one thunderstorm and it was incredibly rough) but so thrilled to see the lightening. There aren't thunderstorms out here. The temperatures aren't extreme enough to create the volatile reaction when a cold and warm front collide. They're missed.

I do have to add though, the 4th dimension, opened up by my landlord when he added a pipe to the bathroom has been an incredible source of entertainment for the kitty friends. I KID YOU NOT, they are in the bathroom when I come home from work, looking at the hole in the wall, receiving life instructions of some sort. Monkey jumps in the bathtub and then darts down the hall. Sometimes they sleep in the bathroom. It's hilarious. It's crazy. I wonder what the hole in the wall is telling them.

Clearly, my life is full of mystery right now.

Green Jello, Car bombs and Sunshine

Green Jell-O, used in wrestling is a bitch to clean-up but it makes for a nice gentle medium for wrestling - which is what some of my league mates subjected themselves to in the name of derby on Friday. I did not (as I quit wrestling when my brother was one day suddenly able to beat me.) I sold Jell-O shots (from the fridge, not from the "pit"), t-shirts and other stuff. Talked up the league, hung out with friends and after clean up the bar, found myself eating Denny's at 4 a.m. - which is really the only time you need to eat Denny's.

Car bombs are truly evil though they makes for great St. Patty's day drinks - with your friends. A group of us decided to celebrate St. Patty's day - me - who use to do anti-St. Patty day events in Cleveland (the land of Irish Catholic)... had a great time at a non-Irish bar drinking cocktails with names that reminded us of Ireland's less joyful days.

Sunshine is delicious and it one of the great things about Spring in Seattle - um yes - it's spring in Seattle. I skated on Myrtle Edwards in the sun with daffodils, cherry blossoms, magnolias, all of the wonderful things. I never thought I would love March.

Contact Origami....

Every once in a while I get a message on my cell phone that goes:
Michelle, what is contact origami?
Michelle, am I missing out on a new phenomenon - what is this contact origami?

However most people leave their message without listening to the message on my cell (which changed when I was chastised for the lack of variety in language.) For those of you who want to know, here is where the idea came from... an essay I ran across while working for the literary magazine at the University of Iowa. It's brilliant:

http://www.english.upenn.edu/~cjacobso//appess.html

This is actually an essay written by a college applicant when applying to colleges/universities.
----------------
The author of this essay, Hugh Gallagher, now attends NYU

3A. ESSAY: IN ORDER FOR THE ADMISSIONS STAFF OF OUR COLLEGE TO GET TO KNOW YOU, THE APPLICANT, BETTER, WE ASK THAT YOU ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTION: ARE THERE ANY SIGNIFICANT EXPERIENCES YOU HAVE HAD, OR ACCOMPLISHMENTS YOU HAVE REALIZED, THAT HAVE HELPED TO DEFINE YOU AS A PERSON?


I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.

I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.

Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.

I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat .400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.

I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations for the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.

I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven. I breed prizewinning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.

But I have not yet gone to college.

Dead mice...

End up in the water bowl. Nearly every time I come home from work... there's a pink one, or green, yellow sometimes a ball or two. This is all Monkey's doing. She's really the only one who plays with these things.

Fez and I just watch her - curiously.

However, as I write this, both of my cats are in the bathroom staring at the portal to the Fourth Dimension that was revealed when the landlord put in a magic pipe.

Curious.

Indeed.

Voodoo, Volunteering and Dirt

Friday I succumb to my frustrating fatigued and on the advice of my friends and colleagues, I went to the witch doctor to get stuck with pins. Ok, I went to an acupuncturist - one that pretty much my whole department and then some have seen. I was lucky enough to get a visit in before he left for two weeks for China.

I not a skeptic - honestly. I'm a big fan of the "body is your temple" and you need good physical health to have good mental health and vise versa. He asked me if I had ever gone to an acupuncturist and I laughed "where I come from we call it Voodoo." He asked me where I was from - I told him Cleveland. He was from Louisville and we immediately had that Ohio connection (Louisville is right across the river from Cinici.) He told me about what the Chinese believed. We talked about how long I had been under the weather and what he thought it might be and then he stuck some pins in me. I barely noticed them. He massaged a few knots in my neck and talked to me about circulation (how the tension was blocking blood flow and consequently not allowing my sinuses to clear up.) He suggested that I eat a warm breakfast (oatmeal instead of yogurt) and how really we were looking at healing my organs (digestive, liver, respiratory). A few more pins, a few deeps breaths and an hour later I walked out feeling a little bit better with a bottle of dirt (ok, their herbs but it tastes like dirt tea) I headed out with high hopes for the next 48 hours.

I finished Friday off having beers (more than one) with friends I hadn't seen in a while and woke up this morning, tired. Not fatigued, not struggling to get out of bed. Just plain tired. It was different. I am hopeful the acupuncture is working... along with the dirt. And the beers too.

And just in time as today was a mega day of volunteering... or just a long day of volunteering. I picked up another skater in my league and we sped off to Monroe (north of Seattle, rural town) to help out with an auction for a kid who had Leukemia. There wasn't much to do early on, so I spent a lot of time getting to know my fellow skaters and explaining roller derby to those who knew nothing about it and laughing about it with those who remember it from their youth.

I sped back to Seattle, ran a few errands (kitty food, lipstick, apples - the important stuff), ate some lunch and then went to volunteer at Provail's and Parkview's auction. A new friend of mine works there and I was glad to be there - to help out with an organization I wouldn't have done anything with otherwise (and not for any reason, beside exposure). They had quite a diverse group of people volunteering and hopefully raised a lot of money for all of the work they do for those with speial needs.

All and all, it was a good day. Tiring. But a good tiring.

Finally.

Other Fourth Deminsion Kitty Stories...

My friend, upon reading my blog, sent me this "best of Craiglist" posting... click the link below. Holy cow, it's too funny. (I'm still laughing).

Crazy Kitty Story

Fourth Dimension...

The kittie friends have been going all out on the "Kittie Olympics" lately - Monkey especially. It seems when my landlord did some plumbing work in the bathroom and added a new piece of piping under the toilet, it opened up a 4th dimension (we live in a three dimensional world. The 4th dimension, well, now that's hard to explain). Monkey and Fez both hang out in the bathroom staring at the new shiny piping. Monkey will sleep on the toilet seat, meow at the pipe. Her tail will poof out and she's start Kitty Olympic Relays at 11 p.m. at night. A colleague of mine once said about cats randomly staring at things "You know Michelle, they can see into the 4th Dimension. They will stare intensely at the wall or their tails will poof out over seemingly nothing. They see things we don't. Just accept it." I didn't know that at the time but I'm pretty convinced that they see something - and it might sometimes just freak them out.

With poofy tails and parties in the bathroom, the kittie friends have their own Olympics to train for and experience all the time. To that end, I am going to start training for the Danksin mini triathlon. Yes, I said it. I am going to be participating in a triathlon. And not as a spectator.

I had always said I wouldn't do a triathlon because I don't like to run. (If only there was one that involved all wheels - like skate boarding, rollerblading and biking. Or biking, driving and rollerskating. Yes - driving is a sport.) The mini is 1/2 mile swim (with thousands of people), 12 mile bike (cake!) and a 3 mile run (ugh). Pygmy and I had considering doing the Danskin last year but the Seattle Danskin is the only one that fills up and they actually have to close it. (Exercise freaks!) My friend Lara wanted to do it. She knew some people who had done it and since we had become roller derby girls (and athletic like no other time in my life) we decided we'd do it - together. The email came from my boss that the registration was open and we managed to get registered before it closed (the next morning).

Now, I'm in a triathlon. Hmmmm....

I still don't like to run but maybe if I could find a way to see into the 4th dimension like Monkey, I could more readily poof out my tail and run some serious laps.

Run away! Run away!

Hurricane Lily and Betty Ford Galaxy chasin' me down... (I had been trying to knock out Lily thoroghout the evening.)

more photos from LJ McAllister, click here.

Surprises all around...

Not posting to my blog has been one of the side effects of this illness I can't seem to shake - since like December. I also haven't called my friends, cleaned my appartment and have had just enough energy to make it to work and derby practice in the evenings. It's also kept me away from Heidi's new baby Lucia much to my chagrin. So I finally went to the doctor and hope that it is truly a sinus infection and my "old self" will be back soon.

However, the big event this weekend was the Rat City Roller Girls bout. It was truly a "derby weekend" with volunteering on Friday and participating in the halftime show on Saturday. Jet City Roller Girls first demonstrated "the rules of the game" during the pre-show. We just "bouted" in slow motion. (Picture of me and Sassy Pants as pivots) We were also invited to play "Last Woman Standing" with Rat City (who just won the Western Region Championship - woot - bytheway) for the half time entertainment. The game is just like it says... you skate around and knock each other down or squarely out of bounds. The "last woman standing" wins. We had been practicing this for the last two weeks and though we had some great strategies (beside "don't get knocked out") it was packed as about 35-40 skaters started the game. I lost my trio of other skaters right away as the whistle blew and the hitting started. I tried to knock those I could and skate away from those I couldn't. I rolled on the outside line with one skate (trying to say in), one leg in the air and figured I was out and started to skate away when the ref yelled for me to "get back in there". So I did. To my surprise, as the dust started to settle and derby girls picked themselves up off the ground and skated away I found myself still skating. I looked across the rink and there was ONE other Jet City teammate, Selma Highkick. We made brief eye contact. It was enough for it seemed like the remaining 4 Rat City noticed me (it was like I screamed, HERE I AM) and I took off skating (for my life). I couldn't even believe I was the last JCRG on the floor! I did a couple of laps trying to shake them and saw my end as another skater had slowed down, with three on my tail, I was going out. And I did. But was an incredible SURPRISE and an incredible evening and our derby gals did so damn well! I was so proud and so thrilled to be part of such a fantastic group.

The other surprise of the week were all the blossoms on the trees. I awoke groggy one morning and noticed the tree in my neighbors' backyard FILLED with pink blossoms. Then driving home from skate practice, there were more trees on 80th with blossoms out. It's honestly almost spring! And it's still February! Woot! Woot!

Happy Valentines Day!

Happiness...

...watching you teammates (and league mates) come together to create a fantastic show for a very enthusiastic and supportive audience as one of your first really successful fundraisers. (click here or here to see more pictures).

... having the support from your friends (who are now part of RCRG) whom you use to skate with as part of PFM and other skaters from communities as far away as Bellingham - being a part of such a great sisterhood.

... winning a Grammy. Yes, it's true! Someone I know, actually won a Grammy! Instrumental Soloist(s) Performance (with Orchestra): "Messiaen: Oiseaux Exotiques (Exotic Birds)," John McLaughlin Williams, conductor; Angelin Chang (Cleveland Chamber Symphony). I am so incredibly proud and happy for her and regret that I didn't make it to any of her concerts when I was in Cleveland (but now I can listen to her albums!) That has got to be such an incredible achievement especially with such competition.


... getting a Valentine from a secret admirer in The Stranger (ok, not so secret, but it's fun anyway!)

... sleeping the entire evening so that you can shake a cold you've had perpetually since the middle of December (which isn't fun).

...watching your best friend become a mom.

And making cupcakes for your friends for Valentines Day.

Look Ma! No hands!

My Lemon

My car is a lemon. It is no secret or surprise that the 2000 (first year model) Ford Focus is a lemon. But I like this lemon - even when the fuel pump went out at 18,000 miles, the (ignition) starter busted at 24,000 miles - there have been a 78 recalls for joints, bearings, plastic pieces here and there, wires, plugs, you name it, it's probably been replaced on my car.

But I love my lemon. It was the first car I bought and is the only thing of significant value that I own. It is zippy and fast (oops) and fun to drive. It has bumper stickers on its fat hinny and its name is Ovette (no, not after Corvette, but because it looks like a giant ovary on wheels). My friends in Peace Corps predicted that I would drive a hatchback, with bumper stickers and with an activist box (scissors, tape, tacks, etc.) in the trunk and I declared, defiantly that I "am not a dirty hippie!"

Hmmm...

So I change the oil regularly and keep all of the fluids filled. I have an emergency kit (blanket, jeans, flashlight) in the trunk and I've changed my share of flat tires. My dad and brother, who can fix cars in their sleep (and build houses) have helped me over the years, but have also given me a keen sense of when it's having problems - and it is. Fuel problems to be exact. At first I thought it was the air filter - which after changing it seemed to help. Then we decided it was the fuel injectors. Now, the "check engine" light has come on and I'm convinced that it's the oxygen sensor. Some of this I came up with on my own, some of it my dad and brother helped me with and a friend added a thought or two. So my lemon has to go to the shop and get fixed.

My friend Glitter Chicken (Dani) and I lament about the fact that we're away from "home" - home being many things but home also being that place where you can drive your car up to you parent's/brother's house (or in her case, her boss' house) and say "I think I have this problem..." And you can be reassured about it - you don't have to face car mechanics alone (who, more often than not, think women don't know anything about cars and either treat you like an idiot or try to rip you off) - and together you can fix it or at least learn about it.

It's one of those things you miss - and one of those things you'll figure out along the way - just like finding a good dentist - you will find a good mechanic. Plus, you can still call your dad or your brother and say "Hey - I have this problem and I think...."

Wear sunscreen

I was listing to the radio in the car over the weekend, and stumbled upon this song twice. Somehow I missed this song - this experience - in 1999. Then I realized I was living in Cote d'Ivoire, living it (click below).

Baz Lurhmann's Everybody's Free (to wear sunscreen).

It turns out this song was a column written by journalist Mary Schmich: Schmich's June 1, 1997 column began with the injunction to wear sunscreen and continued with discursive advice for living without regret. In her introduction to the column, she described it as the commencement address she would give if she were asked to give one.

This reminded me of my own "commencement speech". When I graduated from the University of Iowa in 1996, I made my own graduation announcements (I mean really, who needs those fancy expensive things). On the front was a photo of me as a baby laughing announcing my graduation. On the back was a long statement that follows below. (My only copy of this hangs out with my box of resume paper - which is where it should be - always look at where you think you might want to go next):

On my way to an undergraduate playwright's meeting, a friend asked me what I was going to do now that I was graduating. I wrote this:

Because I am greedy and because I am graduating, I'm going to tell you what I want:

I want to learn Portuguese. I want to live in Brazil and master the cello. I want to a masters in Arabic and Senegalese culture and be able to do the Samba in my sleep and hit that center in Salsa that I always seem to miss.

I want to be married someday - honestly I do.

I want to climb Mt. St. Helen's again. I want to become a master chef. I want to have my own arts center for youth, I want to give youth a voice. I want to be forever young at heart. I want to play the piano. I want to have a friend teach me to dance in a tight circle like they do in Zaire. I want to visit Paris in the summer and Moscow too.

I want to teach French on Native American Reservations - there was a need a few years ago. I want to play soccer again - every day. I want to learn Hindi. (I wanted to be Gandhi - but that was when I was young and didn't know anything.)

I want to meet Marisa Monte and maybe Nick Cave and visit Haiti and go to Trinidad during festival and learn Spanish. I want to make an award-winning documentary and be a one-hit filmmaker. I want to work for PBS and NPR and BBC.

I want to live with the gypsies of North Africa for a while. I want to name the new color of a crayola crayon. I want to be some one's fairy godmother.

I want to be an art therapist. I want to spend 20 years observing a primate we know nothing about. I want to increase consciousness about malnutrition, disease, social injustice, justice, joy and hope.

I want to sleep on a firm mattress with a feather pillow under five quilts. I want to drink lemon tea in the mornings and stay up every night engrossed in conversation about God and love and literature and dance and faint from exhaustion. I want to live every second and not let it kill me. I want to be able to live by the principle Voltaire once stated and that is "Change your small corner of the world and be content." I want ethnic cleansing to stop. I want Muslims to be respected and blacks and Latinos and the people who try every day.

I want every single person to respect at least one other single person.

I want to visit Nepal. I want to stop the Chinese from destroying Tibet. I want Tibetans to reclaim their own culture. I want to live by the Buddhist saying "We can all choose to be awake."

And I want you to, too.

Rabbit! Rabbit!

My friend and past supervisor Nanci has the crazy tradition at the beginning of each month - you say Rabbit Rabbit! If you are the first one to say it to your friend, family, neighbor, colleague, whomever, you will have good luck for the month. Of course, it caught on like wild fire at my last job and we would go to extremes to be the first one. Sometimes I would stay late at work the night before the 1st and write it on a piece of paper, or better yet put a note in the fridge where everyone put their lunches. We would call, type message, send ecards, etc. to be the first Rabbit! Rabbit! and get the most luck.

Well, like most silly traditions, it spun slightly out of control and Nanci instated a new policy in that you had to physically say "Rabbit! Rabbit!" to the person to get the luck. No phone messages, no typed notes, no e-cards. Of course, will caller ID on most of the phones, its been tricky to pull it off, for your names appears and your Rabbit victim won't answer it. Today, I covertly called Nanci's receptionist, said my name was someone from the affiliate in Columbus and I was able to get her with Rabbit! Rabbit! as she sweetly said "Hello."

Rabbit! Rabbit!

5 p.m. and there's still light...

Last week sometime I was getting ready to leave work when I noticed the sun was still out - at nearly 5 p.m. It was - well - stunning. The last time I had seen the sun set, it was setting around 3:50 p.m. and was very dark by 5 p.m. The truth of the matter is the sun has been setting later and later but the sun sets have been masked in clouds and we haven't been privy to the progression.

It's been a very sunny two weeks. It reminds you that you love living in Seattle. Truly.

Smokin'

This weekend was the exposition bout between the Rat City Roller Girls and the Rose City Rollers (Portland). It was the first "bout"(click here) for all of my pals who made the teams last November and a "rematch" from last year. It was absolutely thrilling to be down in Portland and be a part of this experience with them. Glitter Chicken, Lara and I drove down together Saturday morning after a delicious good-luck breakfast at the Blue Star. It was the second sunny weekend in a row. We arrived at a very fun and funky Jupiter Hotel where the gals were checking in, gathering before their bout, etc. We had lunch (food is obviously important) before they got ready. I drove Moe YaDown, Maude Elletee and Dee Troit to the Expo Center and grabbed a car full of "derby widows" to window shop and kill a few hours before the event.

Derby is a drug and there were about 3,000 people addicted to it on Saturday night, including myself, Weedy, Kelly, John, Jenn, and many other people who sat along the edge to be spectators and #1 fans for many of the gals out there. It was exciting to see our friends out there - playing so well - having come so far even in just two months of practice. The pride on all of our faces was only out matched by the cheer of our voices.

The after party following the bout was another great gathering of gals not only those who played in the bout but other from supporting leagues such as the Jet City (my league), Oly Rollers, Dock Yard Derby Dames... they came from Canada and California. There were $2 PBRs and a stripper on the second floor (that's Portland for you) as well as a DJ, lives bands and enough cigarette smoke to make you remember, all crammed into a bar appropriately called the Outlaws.

Isn't life just so damn much fun sometimes?

*photos posted on this page are by Jules Doyle

Hmmmm......