Spring Roll Ft. Wayne


Photo by Tom Klubens
This past Saturday was the Spring Roll Tournament in Ft. Wayne. It started for me, on Friday. Remember the super busy week from the last blog post? Well it kept getting busier! We got booked for a few more catering jobs, and seriously, by Friday I could barely keep my eyes open at work! I was dropping cups, making mistakes, it was a mess! Right as Sweet C was picking me up, the shop was exploding with customers there to check out a new art show, and one of our employees called in.
Ugh.
Dill told me to go, so I went, but I felt freaking awful leaving him in the mess. I slept all the way to Ft. Wayne, which C found amusing. She kept saying, “she curls up just like a cat and sleeps anywhere”! Which is pretty true. I have been known to sleep in my office chair for a couple of hours. Not a big comfy office chair either. One of the really cheap ones that swivels.
We all ate together, then crashed in the hotel room. I was so excited there was a coffee maker, but dismayed to find out in came with the coffee already in the filter like a tea bag! No way was I drinking that! When morning came (all 5:30 am of it) I cut open the filter, poured out the crappy coffee, and replaced it with my own Strange Brew Coffee. Yummy!
We headed over to the Coliseum, suited up and warmed up, then played our first bout of the day against the Ft. Wayne Derby Girls Bomb Squad. We’ve played Ft. Wayne several times before. Our first season, they smoked us. Our second season… they sort of smoked us. Our third season it was a down to the wire last minute jam and we pulled out an 8 point win. Everyone in the derby world was predicting a close bout. Everyone but us.
I don’t know why, but we were beyond confident. Personally I knew we were going to win, and I knew it would be no contest. And it wasn’t. From the get go we dominated them, and pulled out a 99 point victory. Only a few stupid fouls, one of their girls turned and clocked one of our girls with her shoulder into our girls throat. She got called on it, and later asked us to apologize for her, calling it the “dumbest move she’s made all day”. They weren’t getting dirty, they were getting frustrated. We were locking down their jammers, and they didn’t know how to answer to it.
Know what? It felt really, really freaking good. I loved every single second I was out on that track. Even the few times we missed their jammers, it was heaven out there.
We had a very long break before our next bout, against the regionally ranked #2 Detroit. I was envious of the fact that they didn’t have to play a bout before they played us AND a bunch of them got to sleep in. Lucky bitches 😉
We weren’t expected to win that bout, and we didn’t. But we DID have a much stronger showing than the derby world was prepared for. I think we lost by 46 or 50, and not the 200 point blowout that was expected.
Honestly, if we hadn’t played a bout beforehand, and if we hadn’t had a couple of jammer fouls in the second half, I think we could have taken them. I eagerly await a rematch!
What’s this mean for our shot at regionals? No idea. Hopefully good things. I am on pins and needles waiting for the next ranking to come out.

On a side note, the Riedell rep was there. Look, I’ve been pretty happy with my 265 Wickeds. I love those skates! Sure, the heel slips! Sure my heel kind of pops out when I run on my toes! But they are good skates! I always laughed at the girls who obsess over the latest and greatest skate that comes out, why it rocks, why it should be bought, etc. I went through two other pairs of skates before settling on my Wickeds, and those suckers have served me faithfully for almost 5 years now!
Then.. I saw these:

The 1065 Siren. No padding on the ankle, can be heat molded to your foot, and see those metal buckles attached to the laces? That’s part of a band, that goes around your ankle, inside the boot of the skate, so when you lace the skates, your ankle is laced in as well. No more foot popping out. Wider toe, narrower heel… and custom colors. Oh yes. I am all about the custom colors. Pink boot, black tongue. Or pink boot, purple tongue. Or pink boot, hot pink tongue, or blue tongue, or, or….
I have never wanted a pair of skates so badly in my entire life!
Want.
Want.
Want.
I mean, if we make it to regionals, I should have new skates right?????

Spring Roll Ft. Wayne


Photo by Tom Klubens
This past Saturday was the Spring Roll Tournament in Ft. Wayne. It started for me, on Friday. Remember the super busy week from the last blog post? Well it kept getting busier! We got booked for a few more catering jobs, and seriously, by Friday I could barely keep my eyes open at work! I was dropping cups, making mistakes, it was a mess! Right as Sweet C was picking me up, the shop was exploding with customers there to check out a new art show, and one of our employees called in.
Ugh.
Dill told me to go, so I went, but I felt freaking awful leaving him in the mess. I slept all the way to Ft. Wayne, which C found amusing. She kept saying, “she curls up just like a cat and sleeps anywhere”! Which is pretty true. I have been known to sleep in my office chair for a couple of hours. Not a big comfy office chair either. One of the really cheap ones that swivels.
We all ate together, then crashed in the hotel room. I was so excited there was a coffee maker, but dismayed to find out in came with the coffee already in the filter like a tea bag! No way was I drinking that! When morning came (all 5:30 am of it) I cut open the filter, poured out the crappy coffee, and replaced it with my own Strange Brew Coffee. Yummy!
We headed over to the Coliseum, suited up and warmed up, then played our first bout of the day against the Ft. Wayne Derby Girls Bomb Squad. We’ve played Ft. Wayne several times before. Our first season, they smoked us. Our second season… they sort of smoked us. Our third season it was a down to the wire last minute jam and we pulled out an 8 point win. Everyone in the derby world was predicting a close bout. Everyone but us.
I don’t know why, but we were beyond confident. Personally I knew we were going to win, and I knew it would be no contest. And it wasn’t. From the get go we dominated them, and pulled out a 99 point victory. Only a few stupid fouls, one of their girls turned and clocked one of our girls with her shoulder into our girls throat. She got called on it, and later asked us to apologize for her, calling it the “dumbest move she’s made all day”. They weren’t getting dirty, they were getting frustrated. We were locking down their jammers, and they didn’t know how to answer to it.
Know what? It felt really, really freaking good. I loved every single second I was out on that track. Even the few times we missed their jammers, it was heaven out there.
We had a very long break before our next bout, against the regionally ranked #2 Detroit. I was envious of the fact that they didn’t have to play a bout before they played us AND a bunch of them got to sleep in. Lucky bitches 😉
We weren’t expected to win that bout, and we didn’t. But we DID have a much stronger showing than the derby world was prepared for. I think we lost by 46 or 50, and not the 200 point blowout that was expected.
Honestly, if we hadn’t played a bout beforehand, and if we hadn’t had a couple of jammer fouls in the second half, I think we could have taken them. I eagerly await a rematch!
What’s this mean for our shot at regionals? No idea. Hopefully good things. I am on pins and needles waiting for the next ranking to come out.

On a side note, the Riedell rep was there. Look, I’ve been pretty happy with my 265 Wickeds. I love those skates! Sure, the heel slips! Sure my heel kind of pops out when I run on my toes! But they are good skates! I always laughed at the girls who obsess over the latest and greatest skate that comes out, why it rocks, why it should be bought, etc. I went through two other pairs of skates before settling on my Wickeds, and those suckers have served me faithfully for almost 5 years now!
Then.. I saw these:

The 1065 Siren. No padding on the ankle, can be heat molded to your foot, and see those metal buckles attached to the laces? That’s part of a band, that goes around your ankle, inside the boot of the skate, so when you lace the skates, your ankle is laced in as well. No more foot popping out. Wider toe, narrower heel… and custom colors. Oh yes. I am all about the custom colors. Pink boot, black tongue. Or pink boot, purple tongue. Or pink boot, hot pink tongue, or blue tongue, or, or….
I have never wanted a pair of skates so badly in my entire life!
Want.
Want.
Want.
I mean, if we make it to regionals, I should have new skates right?????

Asking myself why I do this…

Ever look at yourself, your hobbies, your job, and think, “what the hell am I doing”? I’m having one of those weeks.
We have been booked for catering every single day. Which means we need two people out catering, and two people working the morning rush at the shop. Since we have so few employees the results are a full week of open to close shifts for Dan and I.
Combined with the Spring Roll tournament in Ft. Wayne this Saturday, that means my life right now is nothing but work and derby. Up at 3am to load the trailer and get catering stuff ready. Bake, brew coffee, etc. Either go with Dan to cater or run the shop. If it’s a practice day, leave Dan at the shop at 5pm, go home, change, straight to derby until 9pm. Get home at 9:45 or so, wash all the catering towels and tablecloths, take a shower, eat dinner, get in bed around midnight. Repeat. All. Week. Long. Throw in the total random incidents at the shop (Had to bounce our resident eccentric from the shop. Sure, every coffee shop needs their resident eccentric, but ours started pooing in inappropriate places. Proof of the fact that I’m too nice for my own good, I let it happen no less than 5 times before I finally, nicely, let it be known she could not come in here anymore)
I should be absolutely miserable at practice. I’m tired, haven’t slept, my body is so incredibly sore from how hard we’ve been pushing and practicing for this (not to mention the fact that I’m squeezing in any spare seconds I can to run, lift weights, or even just do push ups in my office), my body is literally a mass of bruises. I can’t sleep on my right side at the moment due to the amazing amount of bruises on that hip.
Everything that isn’t work this week, is derby. No time to play with the horses, no time to sit and hang out and knit or work on spinning yarn, nothing but derby, derby, derby, every spare second of every single day.
But instead of being miserable, I found myself smiling last night. I spent no less than two hours in scrimmages and drills. I was not rotated out a single time. So every single jam, 2 minutes at a time, I was in the pack, hitting, getting hit, falling, getting back up, getting hit again, opening holes, working plays… I should have been bitching and hating life! It kind of surprised me, in this abstract way, to realize I had a GIANT smile on my face. Even when I left practice, dragging my bag, gingerly poking a bruise to see if it was knotted underneath, getting home and taking a shower, inspecting a brand new bruise on my back, another on my shin, one more developing on the top of my foot… and still I’m smiling!
This week has pushed my endurance with derby. These open to close shifts, then we’ll have a tournament Saturday, with our first game being at 8AM(!!!), but I’m realizing that I’m still loving every second of this.
Logically, I should quit. I have no time. I MISS free time. I miss it so very much! And sleep. Oh god do I miss sleep! But I just can’t imagine it. I can’t bear the thought of seeing a game and not being down there, getting new bruises, working new plays, sweating with some of the most amazing women I’ll ever meet…
Monday, when we have a big meeting, and announce whose staying next season and whose going, I know that despite swearing up and down that this year was it for me, I’m coming back. It’s not the smart decision, or probably even the right decision to make. But I just don’t know any other one I can make. I have never, ever, loved a sport like this one. This sport is greater than me, greater than my team, greater than any one girl or one single group. It’s a collective of DIY punk ethos that decided, “I don’t fit in anywhere, let me make my own niche in the world” and slowly the world has started accepting derby. But no matter how big it gets, there’s still a girl, seeing it for the first time, who never thought she would do anything like this, ordering skates. Taking laps around her driveway. Trying to read and understand the breakdown of a crossover, or a t-stop, who will someday step out in her first bout, and perform that perfect block, or that perfect jam, that helps her team, and makes her heart swell, and in the stands, there will be a girl, seeing it for the first time, who never thought she would do anything like this…
Could you give something like that up if you were me?

Asking myself why I do this…

Ever look at yourself, your hobbies, your job, and think, “what the hell am I doing”? I’m having one of those weeks.
We have been booked for catering every single day. Which means we need two people out catering, and two people working the morning rush at the shop. Since we have so few employees the results are a full week of open to close shifts for Dan and I.
Combined with the Spring Roll tournament in Ft. Wayne this Saturday, that means my life right now is nothing but work and derby. Up at 3am to load the trailer and get catering stuff ready. Bake, brew coffee, etc. Either go with Dan to cater or run the shop. If it’s a practice day, leave Dan at the shop at 5pm, go home, change, straight to derby until 9pm. Get home at 9:45 or so, wash all the catering towels and tablecloths, take a shower, eat dinner, get in bed around midnight. Repeat. All. Week. Long. Throw in the total random incidents at the shop (Had to bounce our resident eccentric from the shop. Sure, every coffee shop needs their resident eccentric, but ours started pooing in inappropriate places. Proof of the fact that I’m too nice for my own good, I let it happen no less than 5 times before I finally, nicely, let it be known she could not come in here anymore)
I should be absolutely miserable at practice. I’m tired, haven’t slept, my body is so incredibly sore from how hard we’ve been pushing and practicing for this (not to mention the fact that I’m squeezing in any spare seconds I can to run, lift weights, or even just do push ups in my office), my body is literally a mass of bruises. I can’t sleep on my right side at the moment due to the amazing amount of bruises on that hip.
Everything that isn’t work this week, is derby. No time to play with the horses, no time to sit and hang out and knit or work on spinning yarn, nothing but derby, derby, derby, every spare second of every single day.
But instead of being miserable, I found myself smiling last night. I spent no less than two hours in scrimmages and drills. I was not rotated out a single time. So every single jam, 2 minutes at a time, I was in the pack, hitting, getting hit, falling, getting back up, getting hit again, opening holes, working plays… I should have been bitching and hating life! It kind of surprised me, in this abstract way, to realize I had a GIANT smile on my face. Even when I left practice, dragging my bag, gingerly poking a bruise to see if it was knotted underneath, getting home and taking a shower, inspecting a brand new bruise on my back, another on my shin, one more developing on the top of my foot… and still I’m smiling!
This week has pushed my endurance with derby. These open to close shifts, then we’ll have a tournament Saturday, with our first game being at 8AM(!!!), but I’m realizing that I’m still loving every second of this.
Logically, I should quit. I have no time. I MISS free time. I miss it so very much! And sleep. Oh god do I miss sleep! But I just can’t imagine it. I can’t bear the thought of seeing a game and not being down there, getting new bruises, working new plays, sweating with some of the most amazing women I’ll ever meet…
Monday, when we have a big meeting, and announce whose staying next season and whose going, I know that despite swearing up and down that this year was it for me, I’m coming back. It’s not the smart decision, or probably even the right decision to make. But I just don’t know any other one I can make. I have never, ever, loved a sport like this one. This sport is greater than me, greater than my team, greater than any one girl or one single group. It’s a collective of DIY punk ethos that decided, “I don’t fit in anywhere, let me make my own niche in the world” and slowly the world has started accepting derby. But no matter how big it gets, there’s still a girl, seeing it for the first time, who never thought she would do anything like this, ordering skates. Taking laps around her driveway. Trying to read and understand the breakdown of a crossover, or a t-stop, who will someday step out in her first bout, and perform that perfect block, or that perfect jam, that helps her team, and makes her heart swell, and in the stands, there will be a girl, seeing it for the first time, who never thought she would do anything like this…
Could you give something like that up if you were me?

Dear last 10 pounds…

Look, we’ve been through some great times together. You were the first ones to jump right on board during the first roller derby break. In the beginning it was all good. Sure, my jeans were a little snug, but so was my bra! I figured it was a good trade! But then, 50 of your friends started creeping in. I get that you wanted company, but I’m not into the whole “open relationship” thing. A little experimenting here and there sure, but soon, you had me sucked into a world of cheese and ice cream… I just wasn’t ready to go that far!
I got rid of your 50 friends, but you? You just can’t seem to take a hint! Months and months after they leave, and you still hang around! You’ve become that dude at the party that doesn’t comprehend that all the other guests are gone, I’ve already changed into my pajamas, and you’re asking if there are more chips!
So look. I’m usually too nice to be this blunt, but it’s over. You need to get the hell off of my body. I’d suggest departing quickly and quietly, otherwise we’re going to have to get Shaun T involved in our lives on a daily, instead of weekly, basis. You don’t want that do you?
You have until July 15th. Au Revoir hips!

Dear last 10 pounds…

Look, we’ve been through some great times together. You were the first ones to jump right on board during the first roller derby break. In the beginning it was all good. Sure, my jeans were a little snug, but so was my bra! I figured it was a good trade! But then, 50 of your friends started creeping in. I get that you wanted company, but I’m not into the whole “open relationship” thing. A little experimenting here and there sure, but soon, you had me sucked into a world of cheese and ice cream… I just wasn’t ready to go that far!
I got rid of your 50 friends, but you? You just can’t seem to take a hint! Months and months after they leave, and you still hang around! You’ve become that dude at the party that doesn’t comprehend that all the other guests are gone, I’ve already changed into my pajamas, and you’re asking if there are more chips!
So look. I’m usually too nice to be this blunt, but it’s over. You need to get the hell off of my body. I’d suggest departing quickly and quietly, otherwise we’re going to have to get Shaun T involved in our lives on a daily, instead of weekly, basis. You don’t want that do you?
You have until July 15th. Au Revoir hips!