I know wrestling is silly, and a lot of people look down on it, especially now a days, and I do have to say I don't agree with a lot of things WWE puts out, but look at it from my eyes:

Wrestling (done right) is modern day opera. Each match is the physicalization of the struggle between good and evil. In the beginning the evil character is a bit stronger, but not as fast, and not as clever. The good guy is constantly fighting up from the bottom, landing lucky blows here and there, but continually being cut off by the bad guy. Eventually his own ineptitude will push the bad guy to start cheating. In a long story arc, he may win several times by cheating, giving him reason for hubris, and bravado, until eventually he is vanquished by the good guy and sent sulking to the back. Good reigns triumphant.

Entrance music gives a capsulated introduction to each character and which side they're on.

In America, the expression of wrestling focuses on body motion and facial expressions. We see the grimaces of pain the good guy makes as he is brutalized, and we know what of himself he is sacrificing for what he believes is right. We want him to triumph in his struggle. The more difficult it is, the more satisfying his win because he has fought against so much for his achievement.

Mexican wrestling, on the other hand features characters more akin to superheroes. Since luchadors are usually masked (it is a sign of dishonor for a wrestler to fight unmasked) facial expressions don't come into play. Instead the underdog bears his punishment stoically, knowing that one day his chance will come to avenge the wrongs perpetrated on him by his opponent. Again and again we see him beaten to the ground, and again and again he gathers himself up to stand once more against the onslaught, until finally he turns the tide and vanquishes his enemy. We want him to succeed because of his stoic persistence against all odds.

Because wrestling focuses on story telling through movement rather than actual combat (as well as the fact that you live work and train with a rather small group of people year round) wrestlers tend to form very tight knit communities, but there is reminder of mortality in injuries, and its hard to maintain close ties when you're not actively involved in traveling to shows, working out in the ring or in the gym, and tirelessly self promoting.

When I was 19 I left my home state for the first time in my life, moved 1200 miles away from friends and family to a city I was completely unfamiliar with, and staked everything on a crazy dream. My BF at the time came with me, and we planned to build a life together. He was unprepared for the reality of our situation, and we officially separated at Christmas, and he moved back to our home state leaving me alone, nearly broke, and largely friendless. I threw everything I had into study and training.

It payed off as well as it could in a town crippled by the folding of WCW, and when my training center finally folded due to financial concerns I struck out for Los Angeles, where I was lucky enough to get work with several promotions, including one where I got to play the good guy for the first time.

My last show was at the Grand Olympic here, where I was afforded an entrance to the cheers of an estimated 5,000 people. Young girls came up after the show asking for autographs, telling me they were so excited to see a woman who could hold their own with the guys. That they were so delighted to finally realize it was ok to be a strong woman.

And less than two months later it was all over. I was in the ER strapped to a backboard with IV tubes in my feet because there wasn't enough of my arm left in one piece to reasonably find a vein. Twenty four stitches and some 12 hours later they let me out, but warned that there was a good chance my skin was too damaged and I might need grafts.

Luckily the skin healed, but I lost all the tissue underneath before the muscle, and I was a deformed and mangled mess.

In short order I was dumped by many of my promotional clients, and all the companies I had been modeling for.

Once stitches came out and I finished my three months of intensive physical therapy, I tried to get back into the ring, but soon found that repeated impact seemed to exacerbate the entrapped nerve I inherited from the debacle, and I was terrified of completely losing control of my hand and arm.

So I waited. I consulted with doctors, and I explored surgical options, hoping against all reason that 70% would somehow change to 100% and I'd be pain free as I was before the accident, instead of the functional cripple I am today.

It didn't.

It won't.

And I don't think I can take any more surgeries at this point.

So its over. Its something I dedicated a large portion of my life to, and an even larger portion of my heart to, and it was taken from me by one single careless driver who wanted to get home so badly that he didn't even stop after hitting me with the trailer of his semi-truck. Its a hard thing to come to terms with.

Hello and welcome

This blog is a symptom of my ever increasing desire to compartmentalize and organize.

I have a couple outlets on LiveJournal, and have been guilty of blogging on MySpace as well, but I feel the need to separate out my actual thoughts from the jumbled ramblings recounting my day, and updating friends and family as to my schedule.

So here we are.

The first few will be re-posts from my other blogs and updates will be sporadic at best.

Thanks for reading!

Equality! (unless you have a cunt)

Friday I went over to the Knitting Factory to see Agnostic Front. Quite a bit of stupid stuff went down, but here's the bit that literally reduced me to yelling, a half step from a temper tantrum:

So one of the opening bands was this monstrosity calling themselves Viva Hate. They're really terrible, and if you ever get the chance to check them out, I can't say I recommend it. In any case, they're doing their crummy little set, and some of the bigger guys are dancing, getting warmed up I guess, but the pit is well defined, and the guys are mostly just crashing into each other and leaving the ring alone.

There's a girl up front, right next to the stage. She's standing with her boyfriend, wearing little pointy heels, nice clothes, and has her hair nicely braided. She's much younger than he is, so maybe its her first show and that explains her complete and utter lack of common sense to follow. In any case, in the middle of a song Girl decides to step into the middle of the pit. Its clear she's not trying to dance, just trying to walk across, maybe to go to the bathroom or something? Who knows. But she tries to do this in the middle of a song (which is silly, since everyone stopped between songs, and she could have made it safely then, or if she HAD to go right then, she could have easily gone around).

Now the guys dancing don't notice this girl walking into the pit, why should they? Who does that?? So there's a complete failure on everyone's part to entirely stop moving the second this girl gets her stupid idea. And someone's flailing fist hits her. She of course, immediately crumples to the floor wailing, and winds up insisting her BF carry her out to the car and they leave immediately.

The band immediately stops. The singer starts berating the crowd. "Someone just punched a girl! What the fuck, who did that? Who hit a girl? That's the most cowardly thing you can do. You'd better come forward right now. If any of you know who did this, you'd better go outside and take care of it." And since everyone kind of stood there looking at him, singer announced they were done, this was bullshit and disgraceful and walked off.

No.

First off, no one "hit a girl". Dummy walked into the pit and got hit. It was not intentional, and I'm pretty sure the guy who made contact had no idea he hit someone other than one of his brothers.

Second off, its the most cowardly thing you can do? I can think of plenty worse things than accidentally making contact with someone while dancing. Even if it was intentional, labeling the act as cowardly just because he hit a girl is immediately classifying all women as frail and helpless individuals dependant on a male saviour. Fuck you.

And that's what bothers me most. Be against hitting a person because violence is not an acceptable way to solve a dispute. Be against hitting a person because its savage and silly. To specifically decry the action because its against a female is to denigrate the entire female population, or as I said before "equality unless you have a cunt".

I have worked hard my entire teen and adult life to be treated with the same courtesy and respect given to males without a second thought. I've left jobs I loved because I was told flat out that they couldn't make me head of security because I was female, despite being senior staff and the only one qualified (Masquerade in Atlanta. Name and shame.). I've been told that the kitchen wouldn't hire me because (despite my 5 years experience) women were incapable of working on the line (Casa Grande, Atlanta). WWE tells me they won't look at me unless I'm willing to do Playboy first. "Don't hit girls" is more of the same.

Obviously I don't think you should run out and start socking all the women you see in the mouth, I don't advocate that any more than I would punching my 200 something pound ex football playing brother in the face. Violence is wrong no matter who its directed at. Just please, stop treating me like I'm a second class citizen just because YOU think I was born with the wrong set of genitals. Viva Hate, you are a disgusting reminder of small minds and wicked tongues.

Things you say, things you do sure worry me.

D.I. show tonight, a little lame. Four hours of OC hardcore bands and kids around the age of 15 standing around sneaking beers and being brats.

I think I remember being that age. We were self absorbed too, but we had friends and mentors to show us we were wrong. To remind us how lucky we were (and we weren't $300 cell phone lucky). To show us what was right. I don't see that in these kids.

I don't see that in the scene out here. I remember being taught when I was 15 that you didn't drink in a venue that was nice enough to host shows you wanted to see, because that would cost them their license, the bartenders and bouncers their jobs, and there would be no more shows. That went double for smoking pot. I remember being taught that you didn't punch holes in the walls or piss on the floor. I remember being taught that if you really really really really needed something, you could ask for it (and most times someone would give it to you) but you could never take it. Its not the corporations you're hurting, its your friends who work for $5.75/ hr and have to pay $800/month for rent and haven't been able to see a dentist since they graduated high school. I remember being taught that it was ok to ask for spare change, but to remember that ultimately you had a home to go to (even if it was unpleasant) and to give up the money if someone else needed it more.

Kids here don't seem to understand that, and if you try to tell them, they cop an attitude. Like the world owes them a favor for giving them this silver spoon world. They're not interested in building a better world, they're interested in scoring better coke. They're not interested in helping people or themselves (unless its a five finger discount helping yourself). They want to sit around and call each other faggots, and talk about how the cops are all so stupid they must be sitting around sucking each other's dicks. I guess we shouldn't be surprised kids aren't interested in relationships when they've been raised to view terms and acts of love as expressions of hate.

I see kids in designer clothes, driving brand new cars back to their parent's homes where they live rent free with more spending money than I had pretty much up until last year, and I leave the show and get on the train to go home. There's a man passed out in one of the seats, and someone has vomited near the door. Walking home from the train station I pass prostitutes, huddled sleeping forms, and a man scraping shit off his shoe on the side of the curb. I handed out $150 in grocery store gift cards over the last two months, but it doesn't really make a difference. And the grocery store sells liquor.

I remember everyone we hung out with over dosing. One by one, names crossed off the list. Each one you thought would be the last, and it never was. Joe's birthday, Jim Brady. Then the new generation, Krissy's friends/lovers. I see kids here with every opportunity throwing it away on cocaine and heroin and meth and laughing, like its some great joke. Like they never wanted this life anyway. Like their mothers won't cry. Like their friends won't notice when they pass a convenience store with the same name, and think about how you'll never see it. I see kids too worried about looking cool in front of their friends and too brainwashed by TV to look around, to get involved. They scream along with their favorite song lyrics. They wave their middle fingers at the stage. But the majority of them won't vote. Most of them don't know a single person serving in the military, those classes are too far below them. They have no idea, and they make no effort to find out. Mike's friend with no legs. The Marines who come back, and spend every night screaming.

Its depressing, and I can only hope I'm wrong. I don't understand how anyone can live here and not want to change things. I don't understand how you can sing lyrics again and again about government, equality, and action and believe in none of those things.

Thoughts on MDC and other American "political" bands

Subhumans show last night was great. Dick announced a Citizen Fish US tour as well. They'll be in LA in November of course, when I'm in the UK. Stiff Little Fingers too (though they're just doing the east coast and midwest).

Anyway, MDC opened and I wound up on the phone with J another 2 hours dissecting what exactly it is about them that I find so objectionable.

1) Dietary advice.
If you choose to be a vegan, good for you. If you are one of the almost non-existent percentage who manage to do it without also becoming severely malnourished, then I commend you wholeheartedly for looking after the needs of your body. The operative phrase here being YOUR body. Your body is not my body, and what works for you may not work for me. For instance, faced with the option of a bowl of rice and a skinless chicken breast, which is more healthy? Well, for me it would be the chicken. Why? Because my body doesn't process carbohydrates properly, and chowing down a big bowl of starch sends my blood sugar out of whack, contributes to circulation problems, and could result in such complications as loss of eye sight and organ failure. I'll take the chicken. I'm also a bit allergic to soy.

Do I believe in torturing animals for fun? No. But I do think its possible to be a responsible meat consumer.

Veganism isn't a catch all solution to solve the world's ills. Processed soy products have been shown (among other things) to shut down healthy thyroids and inhibit serotonin production, leading to mood disorders. The estrogen mimics in the most GM organism on the planet are having varied and possibly catastrophic effects on our environment. Many third world countries moving from livestock to grain agriculture also experience an explosion in hemorrhagic disease and other rodent borne illnesses, yet lack both medical care and vector control capabilities. Hundreds of thousands of small animals are maimed and killed by commercial farming equipment each year, to say nothing of the loss of habitat as it turns into arable farm land, and the dumping of chemical toxins into ground water. (Yes, I know forest loss is an argument against cattle farming, but let's remember it goes both ways.)

So good for you for doing the best you can for you and your world. I am doing the best I can for me and my world. This does not make me the personification of all evil.

2) Success is a sign of weakness and failure.
No, money won't buy happiness, nor will it buy spiritual freedom (though I think we've all seen enough examples recently that its a pretty good get out of jail free card). But telling me I can't be "free" because I'm financially secure, and that I should feel guilty for my possessions is stupid. You're not playing this show for free. If you have such a problem with my prosperity, give me back my $12.

I've done the homeless thing. I've done the starving thing. I've eaten my share of dumpster sandwiches, and I've fished pennies out of mucky gutters. I've got to tell you, it isn't all that liberating. Living like a starving dog and having to steal food or trash to get by is more than a little demoralizing, and what I want to do with my life is not hang around restaurants trying to snatch leftover food.

I have a job I love. I'm good at it, and I get to make my own hours more or less. I get free trips to Hawaii and decent benefits.

I also give money to the homeless or crust punks if they ask for it, because I'm not in a position to do so, and I remember.

Don't try to make me feel guilty, or denigrate me because I'm not still miserable.

Am I obsessed with money, and the pursuit of money? No. Do I say a little prayer of thanks every time I crawl into my bed, under my faux velvet blanket, snuggled next to my loving kitty? Damn straight I do. Being comfortable doesn't make me a bad person.

3) Kill the police
I'm putting this last, but this is the most important to me. I can not support anyone who advocates killing the police, especially when they reason that the police "aren't people".

Chickens aren't people either.

Do I love cops universally? No. Do I think the system as a whole is open to corruption and needs some serious re-haul. Of course. The current system in place more or less guarantees a police force that attracts uncreative sadists. Does the LAPD in particular have some serious issues that need immediate addressing? Yes indeed. May Day Melee, fatal shootings and on and on. None of these things are right.

But advocating the murder of another person because you don't agree with what they've done, or worse, what their colleague has done is a dangerous road. A cop hassled you once, and now you say kill all cops. If a Mexican is mean to me, do I get to advocate killing all Mexicans? Do I get your ardent support?

Suddenly I've crossed a line. Now I'm racist.

So who decides who's "people" and who isn't?

Yes, there are bad cops. There may even be a lot of bad cops. But I know some individuals in law enforcement, and I've worked with some of these people in the course of interning with the EMTs in Worcester, and there are some honestly good people out there who are doing the best they can to help people. There are also people who are there because they know the system is wrong. They know the system is broken, and they are doing their small part to make things a little better.

And that's more than I can say for you, MDC.

Beginning thoughts on returning home from the AIDS LifeCycle

Hello, and welcome. A little bit about me first, if you don't mind. This year (2007) was my second year riding in the AIDS Life Cycle. This year I was rider 1690. I am HIV negative. I have never lost anyone to AIDS. In fact, the only people I know who are openly positive are people I met on this ride this year and last year.

So why do I ride? I ride because way back when I was a wee impressionable kid of 19 I broke my mother's heart when I decided not to go to medical school. I felt then, as I do now, that the American medical system is heavily flawed. I wasn't comfortable becoming part of a system that ignores those most in need simply because they don't have enough money to placate the drug companies. I wasn't comfortable becoming part of a system that only treats symptoms, often times long after its too late for any real healing to be done. I wasn't comfortable with the institutionalized discrimination, and inbred sense of disdain so many doctors seemed to hold for their patients. Of course, being 19 I wasn't coherent enough to state it that way, and simply told my mother I was moving to Atlanta to be a professional wrestler.

I won't bore you with the lengthy account of what happened in Atlanta, or the strange and varied circumstances that brought me to Los Angeles. Looking back sometimes I'm not entirely sure myself, but here I am. I had heard about AIDS Life Cycle (ALC) first from reading the journal of fd_midori I remember thinking "Wow, cycling from San Francisco to Los Angeles. That's crazy!" I remember thinking how much I admired the courage of everyone involved, and how I'd like to participate one day, time and money allowing. Well, the next year I had a pretty good year financially, but in mid-July I was hit by a truck while riding my bike back home from running errands. The driver crushed my left arm, and I was left with a crippling fear of traffic, an inability to ride (devastating to me, since I live in Los Angeles with no car, and in fact at the time didn't even have a driver's license), and an urgent sense of my own mortality. I knew I needed to stop complaining about things, but not taking steps to remedy them. I knew I needed to do something positive to both get me back on the road, and make a statement about what I believed. I knew it was time to do something small, yet epic.

So this time, when I saw the ALC booth at the Hollywood Farmer's Market, I took a pamphlet. I thought about it for a very short period, but I knew this was what was in store for me. Hundreds of cyclists, hundreds of miles, and millions of dollars raised for prevention, education, and to provide low and no cost medication to anyone living with HIV or AIDS. Unfortunately, I suffered some continuing health problems from my accident. When ALC 5 finally rolled around they were not fully resolved and I was restricted by my doctor to only riding half days. Still, thanks to my friends and family I raised just over $2,500 and with some 1800 other cyclists (who raised over $8 million in total) and 300 odd roadies (the number was odd, not the roadies... although... <3<3)is wrong. Children are being denied access to accurate age appropriate information that could mean the difference between a long healthy life and a tragically foreshortened one. Mothers are still losing children to this disease. Sisters, brothers, lovers, friends are being denied benefits, being denied assistance, being denied help. People are dying because they can not keep up with the thousands of dollars their medicine costs. Our government in slashing funding in order to continue killing people over seas. 40,000 new infections occur in this country each year alone, and over 10,000 of them are teenagers. Many as young as 13. What we have accomplished is such a small drop in the face of the vastness of need. But even a twig can turn an avalanche. And to the thousands of people who walk through the doors of the LAGLC each day, I know I've helped make a real step towards a better world.

Well intentioned but mis-directed change

Spain has banned models with low BMI for fashion week

I'm not sure how I feel about this.

On the one hand, at this point its voluntary for designers to comply, but people are pushing for legislation to be put in place if that fails. No matter how good the intentions are, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with any government legislating any aspect of my body. Yes, a lot of these girls have unhealthy lifestyles, but that's a choice for them to make. Also, those who are in the grip of an eating disorder won't be helped by this legislation at all. Its confrontational, and will only force them to insist nothing is wrong. If anything it will delay those who are sick from realizing it and seeking help. Seems paradoxical, but that's generally the case.

Point the second: they're only addressing the weight issue here, while the most unhealthy runway models for major designers have to be at least 5'8". The average woman is closer to 5'5". Is this height requirement fostering unrealistic expectations? Runway models aer also expected to have chests of B cup or smaller. Yet large breasts are still considered sexy. I have no idea what the average is on that front, but would they be willing to start regulating breast size? Runway models are often expected to have small feet, despite the height requirements, usually around a size 8. (I'm 5'6" and a size 9 shoe... average across the board.) Are they planning to address that issue as well?

By effectively sweeping severely under weight women under the carpet, they are in effect labeling them as shameful, and that will also make it harder for girls to change their eating habits.

There's also the question of intended audience. Fashion week, and Fashion magazines are not really the same thing. Fashion week is a series of industry show cases (each major city gets their own) where high profile designers show silly, ridiculous, shocking, outre designs and shows to make an impression on buyers for retailers and boutiques. Its to generate buzz. The crap walking down the runway isn't the crap they put in stores, even the high end nonsense stores on Rodeo. These are one-offs designed to make people remember your name. That's it. The fashion stuff being thrown at teens and young adults is more in the vein of celebrities on the red carpet, and advertisements for retail lines. While these ads also feature thin women, most of them are of healthier proportions then a "standard" runway model (I fit the body type for most mainstream catalog work. Am I unhealthy because I choose to go to the gym and maintain a comfortable weight for my frame?). Regulating minimum weights for models at an event designed for adults isn't likely to have an effect on the models appearing in advertisements and entertainment.

However, I think its good that they've managed to get people talking about the issue some more. I would love to see a world of healthy happy women wearing comfortable flattering clothes and feeling secure, I just don't think legislating sick girls out of a job is the answer.