Trying to bring myspace posts over to Wordpress so I can delete my myspace page is truly a pain in the ass. That is all.

I’m not going to dwell on the fact that I’m socially inept at gift-giving. I can usually disguise it by showing up with a bottle of Patron everywhere I go, but it gets harder to hide that major personality flaw around the holidays. The Kitten, (most of) the nieces and nephews, and the in-laws aren’t really interested in getting drunk and naked, you know.

What I am going to harp on is that fact that it’s socially acceptable to maintain a wishlist nowadays. Get your butt online and start one. Check out this helpful post on Lifehacker for some top wishlist tools. A wishlist not only makes life easier for your socially-inept loved ones, it also organizes your own thoughts. I would never be able to keep track of what The Kitten wants for Christmas if I didn’t rush to Amazon everytime her eyes widen.

By the way, if you haven’t been using a reader to follow interesting blogs like Lifehacker, you really are living in the dark ages. Haven’t you heard that blogs are dying a slow, painful death? Oh, wait, that’s just mine.

A year ago, I was flat broke. I had just injured my bad knee during WFTDA Regionals, I was emotionally spent from a year of being disrespected, and I had spent all my money trying to force an extracurricular activity into a sport.

This year, my body feels great (even if it’s overweight), I can hold a conversation without yelling or being yelled at (mostly), and I just booked a real family vacation. And by real, I mean we are taking The Kitten to see and play in real snow for the first time, not just squeezing in a day’s visit to an amusement park because Mommy’s too busy acting like a bad-ass.

It’s funny how everything works out for the best (even though I’m still a bad-ass).

Yesterday, after receiving a ticket for not wearing a seatbelt and then tailgating another officer while still not wearing a seatbelt, I joked about setting a record for non-moving violations. Today, I received another ticket for not wearing a seatbelt…from the same officer who gave me a ticket yesterday. I just laughed.

Yesterday, the officer asked for my license without any hint of friendliness. Today, I smiled widely and and asked him “How are you doing today?” He just shook his head. I told him “I never wear it” (I don’t believe it should be against the law, and I certainly don’t believe that people should be pulled over only for not wearing seatbelts). He wrote that it in the comments on the ticket. Huh?

Today, he tried to walk off without being friendly again. I said, “See you tomorrow!” Then he actually smiled. Surprise, surprise…he gave me a tip. Tomorrow, he will be at the Valero on Memorial writing tickets for blocking the intersection instead of chasing people down Memorial for not wearing a seatbelt. I told him “Well, I never do that!”

(Oh, and I lied about never wearing a seatbelt. My daughter usually makes me when she’s in the car. For the record, that’s three seatbelt tickets this year…I wonder if I can start a fund during open enrollment to help pay for these?…a small price to pay for libertarianism.)

I’ve been quiet about this foolishness too long. I have to get it off my congested chest. The way flat-track roller derby has climbed onto the coattails of a movie about banked-track roller derby is driving me crazy.

Flat-track skaters sit around bitching and moaning about how flat-track derby is not your momma’s roller derby and it’s a legitimate “sport” with rules and what-not and blah blah blah. Then we all turn around and kiss Drew Barrymore’s ass because she learned how to roller skate and made a movie about it. How about this little gem from one of the “trainers” who explains she couldn’t even do a 360 when teaching the movie stars? That’s the crap you’re telling Hollywood it’s ok to spoon-feed us, when you’ve got derby girls in your own backyard who can do so much more.

I just don’t get it. Flat-track puts all these rules in place, practices as much as professional athletes do to set up a grassroots sport, distances itself from the history of banked-track, and lets Hollywood come along with a gimic to put it right back where it started, with a new generation of fans believing roller derby is still the same ol’ stuff.

OK, fine…that actually suits my style better. I have nothing against banked-track; in fact, that’s what I grew up dreaming of doing. Still would if I had the chance, but life goes on for the common (wo)man and sometimes dreams just aren’t a part of it. But I spent three years of my life trying to do something more rewarding, and it’s hard to reconcile the two for me. I’m sure it’s a great movie, but it’s not about what I lived or what thousands of other flat-track skaters are still living. I just wish it was about “modern” roller derby. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who feels this way.

So bring on the hate mail. I can take it. I’m a real derby girl.

Work + Vacation = Wocation? I love going to California for work, so to me, it is a bit of a vacation. The hotel is comfy, the coworkers are friendly, and the scenery is aesthetically pleasing. Plus I’m on my own schedule, not a six-year-old’s, and there’s Trader Joe’s. Sounds like a perfect reason for a made-up word. I still can’t wait to get back to my hometown.

Just wanted to share that mainly because I couldn’t make an entire post about the fact that I got a REAL comment today on my last post that was over a month ago. (Update on my last post: waiting till October 1st!).

I haven’t wanted to tell anybody my plans, but I figured since nobody reads this, it would be ok to let it slip here. Within the next month, I’m going to donate my hair to Locks of Love. My longest layer is at ten and a half inches in a ponytail right now. I’m going to give it a little bit more growing time just in case, then I’m going pretty damn short.

I’m scared.

Yesterday, my Facebook status became a complaint about how behaving was getting old. As you can tell, my poor, neglected blog agrees. Until I get the chance to stir some shit up, I must settle for something a little bit different.

You will notice a new list of tags to your right. I’ve been working on tagging all my posts…way back to November 2005…and I finally took the time to find a widget that I liked. Enjoy. Some of them are pretty funny if I do say so myself.

A year ago today was the first day of the rest of my professional life. A year ago today, I started the best job I have ever had.

Today, three coworkers congratulated me on a wonderful year together, one coworker took me to lunch at Treebeard’s, and my boss sent me a bouquet of cream colored roses and pale yellow carnations.

I haven’t looked at a library job board in a over a year although I do admit to salivating over some of the Libgig tweets. I may have been reformed by the love of a good company.

Last Monday, I floated the Comal River like a rookie. Maybe it was because it was The Kitten’s first time to float the river, and I was a little nervous, hoping she would love tubing as much as I do. Maybe it was a bit of showing off in front of my cousins on my dad’s side who all are younger than me. Maybe it was way too much cider. But anyway, I fried my legs for the first time in twenty years. And not just fried all over…burned in a candy-cane pattern. Yes, I have red and white diagonal stripes up and down the fronts of my legs. Lovely!

Still, my candy-cane legs can’t top the marks I received from skating the Pride Parade Saturday night. Before the parade even started, I hit a car. Poor car! It was just minding its own business, and I came along and tripped into it. It was too dark to see how bad my Catazonianess damaged it, but the bruise on my upper arm says there might have been a dent in the passenger door. The bruise is even bigger than the one when I fell in the clothes hamper, which you can actually see in the picture on my Blogger profile. Nice!

By the way, I’m waiting to see pictures from that night, so if you have any of the roller derby girls rolling down Westheimer, either on wheels or on the ground wrastling, put ‘em out there! And thanks, Rushin’ Cleavage, for such an enjoyable evening.

I didn’t think the week could get any better than once again getting the crap beat out of me by stationary objects, but then I went to a Roger Creager concert yesterday evening, right smack-dab in the middle of what I like to think of as my old ‘hood (Oak Forest), and I know it’s hard to believe that only about 75-100 people would brave the heat wave from hell to see him at such a great venue (a little league ballfield), but the few, the brave, the crazy were rewarded with a free beer from Roger himself. Awesome.