I'm not here to make friends.

the mantra of reality television...


Speaking of reality tv, I'm watching the finale of Hell's Kitchen right now, and I have to admit I'm a bit disappointed Petrozza didn't win. I'm not a regular watcher per se, but I know enough about it to doubt that Kristina, who just graduated, can run a restaurant. I wanted LouRoss to win anyway, but the whole show is so ridiculous and profanity-laden. Kristina's camera confession scene (which came after a dizzying array of suspense-building camera shots for about 45 seconds and a commercial break) consisted of screaming "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!" I have to wonder--don't these people realize their grandmas and childhood friends and pastors' wives see all this? I cuss like a sailor, but I try not to be filmed on national television doing it.

Speaking of not making friends, I must vent for just a minute--I've been taking Krav Maga for the last couple weeks, and most of the time I love it. If you haven't heard of it, it's Israeli combat/self-defense. It kicks my ass, my muscles burn, and I leave with my hair soaked and feeling like an old lady. But a tough old lady. Today, I had to pair up with this dykeadelic chick who was, to her credit, a badass. She was however uncoordinated as all hell, and tried to blame my punching for it. I was "doing something weird." Uh huh. I admit I don't always give 100% and I joke around some, but I do work hard. So anyway, we're learning defensive moves and blocks tonight, and she starts blocking my punches with more force than I'm punching with--the point is to defend, you don't have to do it really hard. Plus this is a beginner class. It's essentially non-contact, but sometimes we kinda get physical. So anyway, my forearms are getting bruised like peaches but she doesn't give a shit. Then--she hit me in the face. We were adding combination moves and were supposed to be giving it like 50%--not full on war. I'm tough too, so it wasn't a big deal. Then she did it again. No apology, no oops. The third time she popped me right in the mouth, and I stepped up, towering over her, and said quietly, "Do that again and I'll hit you back. A lot harder." Her sweaty pale face with its set expression of rarrrr fell. I stepped back and put my hands up, ready, but she just stood there. I could see she had been rattled, unnerved. The instructor called us together, gave us a few last tips, and dismissed us, and Blondie hightailed it out of there like her ass was on fire. I resisted the temptation to yell after her, "Yeah you better run, you little bitch!"