The Kickathon is tomorrow, and I thought that today I'd do a wrap-up of the blogging experiment, because statistics are fun! Courtesy of Google Analytics, bit.ly, and Facebook.
- 28 posts
- 1,402 total pageviews
- 384 unique visitors
- 39 Facebook comments
- 31 "likes"
- 10 blog comments
- One link from a well-known women's athletics blog
- Six donors
- $125 dollars raised
Saturdays and Sundays are definitely slow times - y'all are clearly only reading these at work. The fiction got the most feedback on Facebook for sure, but didn't get anywhere near the most traffic. (That's not definitive, of course, because I can't sort out people who just read posts from the front page rather than the permalinks, but there's a large difference between the top posts and the lesser ones.)
Thanks to everyone who donated, and if you haven't, there's still time. This was a great experiment, and an excellent writing challenge for me. I still got my butt soundly kicked, fundraising-wise, by people who went with more traditional methods, but hey - we reached our overall goal, and I ain't complaining. I would love to hear feedback on what y'all who have read so regularly thought of the whole thing - too much content? Not enough? More fiction? More pictures? Kill the italicized explanatory bits?
I dunno if I'll do the same thing next year, but this year was fun! Tomorrow is the actual event, and I'll post a report with pics sometime in the next few days. Thanks for coming!
Friday, November 6, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Thirty
I have been remiss this week, but ramp-up to the actual event is eating much of my brain power. And we are less than two hundred dollars from our goal! This is awesome - I confess I was a little skeptical that we'd hit it, in this economy.
Thanks to everyone who's donated, and if you haven't yet, There's still time! Here is the link.
Thanks to everyone who's donated, and if you haven't yet, There's still time! Here is the link.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Twenty-Eight
My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense, or possibly just whatever strikes my fancy. Enjoy!
It's Tuesday, and that means I get to make bullet lists. I love bullet lists. Although I'm too lazy to make actual bullets.
- We're only a few days from the Kickathon. I hope everyone's been enjoying the blog - I know I've got a reasonably steady readership, from the stats (which I totally do not obsess over, whatever gave you that idea?) If you've been one of those regulars, I will ask again that you please consider chipping in $5! We're not quite at our goal yet - it's reachable, but we need just a little more help to make it happen.
- If you're still a little fuzzy on what we're actually raising money for, black belt Graham lays it out in plain terms.
- I mentioned this yesterday, but hi to the Stumptuous folks wandering over!
- Either Saturday or Sunday I'll post pics and results from the Kickathon itself - hopefully none will be too terribly embarrassing, but with my sense of balance, that may be too much to ask.
If you'd like to donate to our fundraiser, there's the link!
It's Tuesday, and that means I get to make bullet lists. I love bullet lists. Although I'm too lazy to make actual bullets.
- We're only a few days from the Kickathon. I hope everyone's been enjoying the blog - I know I've got a reasonably steady readership, from the stats (which I totally do not obsess over, whatever gave you that idea?) If you've been one of those regulars, I will ask again that you please consider chipping in $5! We're not quite at our goal yet - it's reachable, but we need just a little more help to make it happen.
- If you're still a little fuzzy on what we're actually raising money for, black belt Graham lays it out in plain terms.
- I mentioned this yesterday, but hi to the Stumptuous folks wandering over!
- Either Saturday or Sunday I'll post pics and results from the Kickathon itself - hopefully none will be too terribly embarrassing, but with my sense of balance, that may be too much to ask.
If you'd like to donate to our fundraiser, there's the link!
Monday, November 2, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Twenty-seven
My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense, or possibly just whatever strikes my fancy. Enjoy!
I confess I missed last night's update - so close to perfection, too. Also, if you've found your way here from Stumptuous, welcome! And now, on with the blog.
Tonight in class, our instructor talked a little bit about maintaining focus and composure in practice, even - especially - when doing things that make us uncomfortable. She said "Has anyone ever said something totally insulting, and you got so flustered you couldn't respond? Practicing keeping your composure here will help your brain get used to that feeling, so it doesn't totally lock up when you're stressed." I could certainly relate to that - today more than usual.
I am not a girly girl. I tend to wear baggy t-shirts and jeans, my hair is as often buzz-cut as anything, and I spend very little time worrying about my appearance. This is, however, partly a defense mechanism - I am rather well-endowed in the chest region, and if I wear tight shirts or look particularly feminine, I get attention that's unwanted at best, and usually unpleasant.
This morning I grabbed a shirt that I haven't worn in ages. It's just a long-sleeve tee, but it's got a particularly wide neckline - wide enough that I had to move my bra straps over a bit so they weren't hanging out. I'm thoroughly tattooed around the shoulders, so on the one hand it's nice to be able to show off the art. But in the elevator on the way to work, I realized that I looked way more femme than usual, and it made me uncomfortable.
Nothing in particular happened today to justify it, but it has, in the past. I remember one time at a restaurant out in the Hill Country, some good ole boy came up to me out of a clear blue sky and said, "You're pretty, but you need to wear some makeup."
What do you say to something like that? There were so many different things wrong with that statement that I couldn't pick one to call out. I just stared at him, appalled, and he went away. I didn't feel particularly insulted, because the opinions of ill-bred idiot strangers are not particularly valuable to me, but I certainly wished I'd had some snappy comeback instead of just a blank stare.
Hopefully self-defense practice will improve the odds of getting a quip out before I punch the next bastard to pull something like that right square in the throat. Really, people. Who raised you, anyway?
Some days I suspect my instructor despairs of ever teaching some of us the principles of non-violence. She keeps trying, though.
If you haven't already, please do donate $5 to our fundraiser - the event is on Saturday, and this is the last big push to meet our goal.
I confess I missed last night's update - so close to perfection, too. Also, if you've found your way here from Stumptuous, welcome! And now, on with the blog.
Tonight in class, our instructor talked a little bit about maintaining focus and composure in practice, even - especially - when doing things that make us uncomfortable. She said "Has anyone ever said something totally insulting, and you got so flustered you couldn't respond? Practicing keeping your composure here will help your brain get used to that feeling, so it doesn't totally lock up when you're stressed." I could certainly relate to that - today more than usual.
I am not a girly girl. I tend to wear baggy t-shirts and jeans, my hair is as often buzz-cut as anything, and I spend very little time worrying about my appearance. This is, however, partly a defense mechanism - I am rather well-endowed in the chest region, and if I wear tight shirts or look particularly feminine, I get attention that's unwanted at best, and usually unpleasant.
This morning I grabbed a shirt that I haven't worn in ages. It's just a long-sleeve tee, but it's got a particularly wide neckline - wide enough that I had to move my bra straps over a bit so they weren't hanging out. I'm thoroughly tattooed around the shoulders, so on the one hand it's nice to be able to show off the art. But in the elevator on the way to work, I realized that I looked way more femme than usual, and it made me uncomfortable.
Nothing in particular happened today to justify it, but it has, in the past. I remember one time at a restaurant out in the Hill Country, some good ole boy came up to me out of a clear blue sky and said, "You're pretty, but you need to wear some makeup."
What do you say to something like that? There were so many different things wrong with that statement that I couldn't pick one to call out. I just stared at him, appalled, and he went away. I didn't feel particularly insulted, because the opinions of ill-bred idiot strangers are not particularly valuable to me, but I certainly wished I'd had some snappy comeback instead of just a blank stare.
Hopefully self-defense practice will improve the odds of getting a quip out before I punch the next bastard to pull something like that right square in the throat. Really, people. Who raised you, anyway?
Some days I suspect my instructor despairs of ever teaching some of us the principles of non-violence. She keeps trying, though.
If you haven't already, please do donate $5 to our fundraiser - the event is on Saturday, and this is the last big push to meet our goal.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Twenty-five
My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense, or possibly just whatever strikes my fancy. Enjoy!
Happy Halloween! Here's a spooky true story appropriate for the occasion.
On a fine cool day, we hiked up the hill, through the forest, down the road, and across the cornfield to the graveyard. I no longer recall why we went to the graveyard, but we were ten, and graveyards were neat. Our group leader pointed out some significant older graves, and we solemnly examined the inscriptions. Then we scattered a little bit to contemplate our inevitable mortality at our leisure.
I crouched at a particularly interesting grave with two other girls, murmuring perhaps over the youth of its occupant. For some reason, I looked up. Walking along the gravel drive in the bright sunlight was a woman in a long coat. I mentioned her to the other girls, and then we went back to our examination. Not more than half a minute later, I glanced up again. The woman was gone.
I stood up and looked up and down the drive - it was clear for a hundred yards in both directions. The other girls also stood, and we peered all around us. With many nervous glances at each other, we walked toward the road, always expecting to see the woman behind one of the few trees, or perhaps kneeling at a grave. But she was gone.
That evening around the campfire, ghost stories brought a chill - but not for their own sakes. The three of us had seen a ghost for real.
I'm much less convinced of it now, of course, but at the time, that was the eeriest thing I'd ever seen.
Only one week left to donate $5 to our fundraiser!
Happy Halloween! Here's a spooky true story appropriate for the occasion.
On a fine cool day, we hiked up the hill, through the forest, down the road, and across the cornfield to the graveyard. I no longer recall why we went to the graveyard, but we were ten, and graveyards were neat. Our group leader pointed out some significant older graves, and we solemnly examined the inscriptions. Then we scattered a little bit to contemplate our inevitable mortality at our leisure.
I crouched at a particularly interesting grave with two other girls, murmuring perhaps over the youth of its occupant. For some reason, I looked up. Walking along the gravel drive in the bright sunlight was a woman in a long coat. I mentioned her to the other girls, and then we went back to our examination. Not more than half a minute later, I glanced up again. The woman was gone.
I stood up and looked up and down the drive - it was clear for a hundred yards in both directions. The other girls also stood, and we peered all around us. With many nervous glances at each other, we walked toward the road, always expecting to see the woman behind one of the few trees, or perhaps kneeling at a grave. But she was gone.
That evening around the campfire, ghost stories brought a chill - but not for their own sakes. The three of us had seen a ghost for real.
I'm much less convinced of it now, of course, but at the time, that was the eeriest thing I'd ever seen.
Only one week left to donate $5 to our fundraiser!
Friday, October 30, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Twenty-Four
My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense, or possibly just whatever strikes my fancy. Enjoy!
When I'm stressed, my dreams get violent. This isn't much of a surprise given my preference for swordfight-packed books and video games, but my subconscious is shockingly good at providing detailed action-movie plots to externalize whatever is bugging me at any given moment. There was a lot bugging me in high school, even if it was just raging hormones and homework, so my dreams regularly featured full-color surround-sound with extra explosions.
One fine evening my sophomore year, I found myself leading the remnant of a scouting squad back to the main camp after an ambush by the orcs. I was pissed - the orcish champion (who was inexplicably human, and also kinda hot) had engineered the ambush, and I'd lost at least one friend. In typical dream fashion, the next scene was the full-out melee between the human and the orcish armies. I was trying to find the orcish champion, but instead encountered the orc king. He was about four feet tall, green, and not nearly good enough with a sword. I killed him, and the battle melted away.
My own king told me the orcish champion had escaped - I was ordered to run her down and capture her. So off I went, and I ended up cornering her in what was, if I recall correctly, my junior high school bathroom. I attempted to menace her with my sword. She laughed and mocked me. Pissed, I knocked her sword from her hand and lunged. I stabbed her square in the chest, and she dropped.
And that was when I realized I loved her.
Now, this was a dream. It didn't have to make sense. I didn't need any particular relationship with her or even to know her name. It was pure emotion - I dropped to my knees, told her I loved her, and watched the light go out of her eyes. I woke up sobbing.
I still don't know if she heard me.
I think about her almost every night, more than a decade later. And the idea of losing my temper like that, lashing out, still scares me white. It was just a dream, but I can still feel that sense of overwhelming loss and grief. Sometimes, while sparring, I'll kick a little bit harder than I should, more out of reaction than strategy, and then I'll freak out very quietly and pull way back. Maybe it makes me a safer partner - that would be nice to believe. But mainly I still have to deal with the unshakable knowledge that I could kill someone in a moment of heat. It doesn't matter that it was just a dream.
I've accepted that I have to learn how to fight better in order to make myself safer - it's part of why I like studying karate in a non-competitive environment. But I still I tend to look a little longer than I should at tall brunettes with long, straight hair, because part of my mind insists that she was *real*, and someday maybe I'll find her, and get a chance to apologize.
Incidentally, taking a shotgun blast to the stomach - even in a dream - is not a pleasant experience. I don't miss high school a bit. Only one week left to donate $5 to our fundraiser!
When I'm stressed, my dreams get violent. This isn't much of a surprise given my preference for swordfight-packed books and video games, but my subconscious is shockingly good at providing detailed action-movie plots to externalize whatever is bugging me at any given moment. There was a lot bugging me in high school, even if it was just raging hormones and homework, so my dreams regularly featured full-color surround-sound with extra explosions.
One fine evening my sophomore year, I found myself leading the remnant of a scouting squad back to the main camp after an ambush by the orcs. I was pissed - the orcish champion (who was inexplicably human, and also kinda hot) had engineered the ambush, and I'd lost at least one friend. In typical dream fashion, the next scene was the full-out melee between the human and the orcish armies. I was trying to find the orcish champion, but instead encountered the orc king. He was about four feet tall, green, and not nearly good enough with a sword. I killed him, and the battle melted away.
My own king told me the orcish champion had escaped - I was ordered to run her down and capture her. So off I went, and I ended up cornering her in what was, if I recall correctly, my junior high school bathroom. I attempted to menace her with my sword. She laughed and mocked me. Pissed, I knocked her sword from her hand and lunged. I stabbed her square in the chest, and she dropped.
And that was when I realized I loved her.
Now, this was a dream. It didn't have to make sense. I didn't need any particular relationship with her or even to know her name. It was pure emotion - I dropped to my knees, told her I loved her, and watched the light go out of her eyes. I woke up sobbing.
I still don't know if she heard me.
I think about her almost every night, more than a decade later. And the idea of losing my temper like that, lashing out, still scares me white. It was just a dream, but I can still feel that sense of overwhelming loss and grief. Sometimes, while sparring, I'll kick a little bit harder than I should, more out of reaction than strategy, and then I'll freak out very quietly and pull way back. Maybe it makes me a safer partner - that would be nice to believe. But mainly I still have to deal with the unshakable knowledge that I could kill someone in a moment of heat. It doesn't matter that it was just a dream.
I've accepted that I have to learn how to fight better in order to make myself safer - it's part of why I like studying karate in a non-competitive environment. But I still I tend to look a little longer than I should at tall brunettes with long, straight hair, because part of my mind insists that she was *real*, and someday maybe I'll find her, and get a chance to apologize.
Incidentally, taking a shotgun blast to the stomach - even in a dream - is not a pleasant experience. I don't miss high school a bit. Only one week left to donate $5 to our fundraiser!
Thursday, October 29, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Twenty-three
My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense, or possibly just whatever strikes my fancy. Enjoy!
I am grumpy.
I was reminded rather forcefully today that my digestion only handles dairy if it's exposed to it frequently - the last couple of weeks I've had almost none, and my guts were VERY displeased at the bacon cheddar burger with cheese fries at lunch. Cheese is one of my favorite things in all the world, but this brought it home that it's really not very good for me.
For those of you who haven't read my earlier whining on the topic, I am also gluten-intolerant - this means anything involving bread and quite a few things that don't make all of my joints swell up and hurt like a $%@@^%@er. This was a fairly recent discovery, and while I'm mostly resigned to it, I'm still not happy about it.
And then, while recovering from lunch, I read this. The rest of the thread was touching, but that comment was a punch in the gut.
I was an on-and-off vegetarian for several years in high school and afterwards. I wasn't a huge fanatic or anything, I just felt better when I wasn't eating meat (unless I was lifting weights, which would give me steak cravings like you wouldn't believe. That usually led to an "off" phase.) But I felt good about my choices, and I felt good about myself.
When I moved to Austin my girlfriend, who is a fabulous cook, wasn't thrilled that I wouldn't eat much of what she wanted to make. I stuck to my guns for a little while, but... she was a fabulous cook. So I went back to eating meat - with relish, mind you - and have very carefully not thought about it too hard since.
Until today. And now I face a dilemma - I could go back to being a vegetarian, but now I can't eat most bread products either, and I really shouldn't go back to eating a ton of dairy. That cuts out a lot of calories that I'm not sure how I'd replace - eating nothing but fresh fruits and vegetables is expensive. And if eggs are my primary source of protein... I guess I could eat a lot of tofu, but a) I don't particularly like tofu, and b) the hormonal implications of eating a ton of soy products are not terribly well-explored. And my friends are already graciously accommodating my gluten issues - I don't know how much more I can ask.
But dammit, the only way I can eat meat is to stop thinking about it again. And I don't know if I can do that either.
At least half the dojo raises chickens, so I can get guilt-free eggs if I ever remember to ask about them. Support your local hippies! Donate $5 to our fundraiser today!
I am grumpy.
I was reminded rather forcefully today that my digestion only handles dairy if it's exposed to it frequently - the last couple of weeks I've had almost none, and my guts were VERY displeased at the bacon cheddar burger with cheese fries at lunch. Cheese is one of my favorite things in all the world, but this brought it home that it's really not very good for me.
For those of you who haven't read my earlier whining on the topic, I am also gluten-intolerant - this means anything involving bread and quite a few things that don't make all of my joints swell up and hurt like a $%@@^%@er. This was a fairly recent discovery, and while I'm mostly resigned to it, I'm still not happy about it.
And then, while recovering from lunch, I read this. The rest of the thread was touching, but that comment was a punch in the gut.
I was an on-and-off vegetarian for several years in high school and afterwards. I wasn't a huge fanatic or anything, I just felt better when I wasn't eating meat (unless I was lifting weights, which would give me steak cravings like you wouldn't believe. That usually led to an "off" phase.) But I felt good about my choices, and I felt good about myself.
When I moved to Austin my girlfriend, who is a fabulous cook, wasn't thrilled that I wouldn't eat much of what she wanted to make. I stuck to my guns for a little while, but... she was a fabulous cook. So I went back to eating meat - with relish, mind you - and have very carefully not thought about it too hard since.
Until today. And now I face a dilemma - I could go back to being a vegetarian, but now I can't eat most bread products either, and I really shouldn't go back to eating a ton of dairy. That cuts out a lot of calories that I'm not sure how I'd replace - eating nothing but fresh fruits and vegetables is expensive. And if eggs are my primary source of protein... I guess I could eat a lot of tofu, but a) I don't particularly like tofu, and b) the hormonal implications of eating a ton of soy products are not terribly well-explored. And my friends are already graciously accommodating my gluten issues - I don't know how much more I can ask.
But dammit, the only way I can eat meat is to stop thinking about it again. And I don't know if I can do that either.
At least half the dojo raises chickens, so I can get guilt-free eggs if I ever remember to ask about them. Support your local hippies! Donate $5 to our fundraiser today!
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