I spent all weekend with my karate studio. On Saturday, I got to sit on the panel at advanced belt testing and get a feel for the pain I am going to experience in February. *note to self - Start working on your push-ups!* It was definitely cool to watch and I got to help out during the six mile run by directing traffic and driving the chase van. One of our black belts collapsed from heat exhaustion and knocked his head, concussing himself (he's okay) and testing got cut short, but before he got hurt the whole day was really cool. Sensei Brown had a rule for the testing students, " If they didn't have it 600 years ago, it doesn't go in your body today." Meaning that the testing students were given rice and tea at the halfway point, but there were no Balance bars or Gatorade. Rice, tea and water. I dug the whole ritual/tradition of it all.

There was dinner that night to promote the people that tested. Sensei Brown missed the majority of it because he was with Quoc in the hospital. He swung by when the nurses kicked him out for the shift change and then left as soon as he could to get back to the hospital.

Sunday was the Street Fair and I went to help out and do what I do best, which is interact with people. I was a machine, man. Promoting, handing out cards, talking up the studio, hawking and jiving like a veteran carnie. I had so much fun. So much fun that I didn't notice the sun searing into my skin until it was too late and I have a nasty sunburn and a bad case of sun poisoning that knocked me flat on my ass yesterday. *ouch*

I am blown away at how nice everyone at the studio is. I have self confidence issues when it comes to people being this nice to me. I wasn't the most popular girl in school (I wasn't the most unpopular...somewhere in the middle) and the really pretty, popular girls wanted nothing to do with me. I was friends with a lot of the guys because I was football manager but it was a tenuous relationship at best. So I don't know how to react when the pretty popular girls at the studio are nice to me and include me in everything.

There are three Ashleys. Brunette, blond and raven haired. They are all about 15. You can tell by looking at them that they are the "popular" girls wherever they go and from what I can tell, they love me. They wanted me to hang out with them at the fair, they asked me to shop with them. I am at least 9 years older, so I think I have been elevated to the cool "older sister" status, but the little 15 year old girl is still in me that used to get picked on by these types of girls. I am still a little taken back that they want me to hang out.

There is also an 18 year old who is not only beautiful, but she is also the world champion in continuous full contact fighting. Her and her boyfriend were at the dinner on Saturday night and I was hanging out in the back to watch the promotions and she called me up to sit with them (and the Ashleys) in the front. I couldn't believe it.

The guys like me (guys always like me). These ones don't tease me and aren't mean to me at all though.

I almost don't trust the nice behavior. I feel like I am being set up. Part of me knows that I am not and is trying to convince the little girl inside that I have changed since high school. I have better qualities that allow people to see the real me. I have to work on letting people see me and accepting that they do like me.

Anyone who knows me would never think that I could be shy and insecure. There are those (one) that know me well enough to know I AM shy and insecure. I don't WANT to be shy and insecure anymore.

No more hiding behind a brunette waterfall
No more masking insecurity with self deprecation
No more dodging intimacy with a swirl of flirtation
I want to be me, unabashed and unashamed
No longer shackled by the past

Spent my lunch hour applying for jobs.

Anyone know where I could learn PowerPoint really quick? It is the only MS application I don't know and it is the one that everyone is requiring!

If you were wondering about my want ad, I have decided that I need to find another job.

I have changed in the two years I have been here. The stress and frustration has made me an angrier person. I am more impatient and less forgiving and kind. I don't like what I have become.

I am also tired of being disrespected. People see my happy demeanor and positive attitude and mistake it for naivete. Many take it as a sign to try and walk all over me. BossMan has yelled at me, disrespected and been condescending to me for the last time. I left home for a reason. Don't treat me like a child. My health, physical and emotional, is of no consequence to them. I am tired of being berated about having to see the doctor. I can't time breaking my bones to a more convenient schedule for them. I need to take care of my ADD, I need to take care of my bum knee. I had plans to take care of these PRIOR to breaking my toe, which now I also have to take care of. I guess I am choosing my health over a job. You know what though? I am 23. There will be other jobs. I can't say the same for my knee or my shoulder. 23 is too young to be permanently damaged like that, especially when one is busting her ass 8 hours a week in karate.

I think that this position has served its purpose. I have more experience to bring to the table. My current boss' low-balled me because I had no experience and was making dick at my last job. Even paying me $7000 below the running rate for my position was a HUGE raise for me. Now I know what I want, I know what I am worth and I am going after it.

Resume is prepped and ready, if anyone is interested!

By request...

OCTOBER:Loves to chat. Loves those who loves them. Loves to takes things at the center. Inner and physical beauty. Lies but doesn't pretend. Gets angry often. Treats friends importantly. Always making friends. Easily hurt but recovers easily. Daydreamer. Opinionated. Does not care of what others think. Emotional. Decisive. Strong clairvoyance. Loves to travel, the arts and literature. Touchy and easily jealous. Concerned. Loves outdoors. Just and fair. Spendthrift. Easily influenced. Easily loses confidence. Loves children.

I was supposed to strike through the ones that don't apply to me, but I think it pretty much sums me up.

They need to add nymphomaniac though.

WANTED:

A JOB IN THE SAN DIEGO/NORTH COUNTY AREA FOR A BRIGHT, POSITIVE, CREATIVE AND TALENTED YOUNG WOMAN. SEEKING A POSITION WHERE BEING UNIQUE AND CREATIVE IS VIEWED AS A STRENGTH, NOT A WEAKNESS. SUPERVISOR MUST BE ABLE TO RETURN RESPECT GIVEN.

APPLICANT AVAILABLE TO START IMMEDIATELY.

I got the call at 3:30 this morning. Nan passed away quietly in her sleep at 2:30.

Devastated.

I believe that she wouldn't have wanted me to see her in the state she was before she let go. I am sad but I am glad that she is free of pain now.

I made the decision to take the train last night because I was anxious about driving alone. Higher powers were at work because there was no way I would have been able to hold myself to drive 7 hours to get here after I got the news this morning. I was able to sit on the train, read listen to music and think about happier times.

7 hours back home tomorrow, then life goes on.

I will miss you more than you will ever know, Nan. I love you.

Journey

I am driving up the coast to my parents house in Morro Bay tomorrow. My Nan (grandma) is dying and my mom doesn't think she will last out the week. They weren't even sure if she was going to last until I got there. HammieLove and I were planning on leaving tomorrow morning, but he has come down with a really nasty cold/sore throat and is not up to the drive. So I am doing the 6 hour San Diego-Morro Bay drive alone.

And tomorrow is HL and my 5 year anniversary. And we won't be together. And this will be last time I will see Nan.

Is it cool that I just want to crawl under my desk and cry?

I don't know how to deal with death. I know that it is unevitable. I know that Nan has had a good life and is ready to go join Grandad in the Wherever Forever After. I only have two grandparents left out of six (counting my stepdad's parents). Nan and Grandma. Grandma is senile. Nan is fading. I was young when my other grandparents died and it never really affected me. I was never a really emotional kid anyway, didn't cry when anyone died, unless it was a pet.

That all changed when my childhood friend, Jimmy, was killed in a drunk driving accident when he was 19 and I was 15. That devastated me and changed me forever. I now cry at the drop of a hat when there is something sentimental or sad in a book (When Harry's uncle died in Book 5? I sobbed through the rest of the book.), movie or TV show, I break down and cry.

And now I am "in touch" with these feelings, this will be the first time I will have to deal with the death of someone close to me. Someone who was there for me throughout my entire childhood.

Nan taught me how to be a proper, respectable young lady. 50 years after coming to America, she still has an impeccable British accent. Her favorite color is blue and her entire house is done with blue accents. She always smells like expensive perfume. She was immaculate and would clean her house from top to bottom every Monday.

Nan lost her first husband in WWII. She gave birth to his son, Anthony, on the floor of the hospital hallway while an air raid rained bombs down around the building. She remarried to my Grandad and had Phil, who is my stepdad. Grandad and Nan had just celebrated their 50th anniversary when he passed away. And she survived. Nan discovered country music (she loves Garth Brooks) and loves to watch Spongebob with my nephew, Dylan. She would sit in her favorite chair with her Spongebob pillow that I bought her cushioning her back.

Nan is a two time cancer survivor, breast and colon. Liver cancer is what is taking her away.

Third time wasn't the charm.

She raised two sons, one who became a general in the Air Force, who commanded the Stealth Fighter unit and flew missions in the first Gulf War. Her other son retired from the LA County Sherriff's Department after 23 years. Nan has 7 grandchildren. Me, my sister, my three brothers and 2 cousins. She will be survived by 6 and joining Jason (killed at 22 in a motorcycle accident) who is waiting with Grandad.

The little girl in me wants to stay at home, bury my head in the sand.

I know I have to suck it up and think of her. I don't even know if she will know that I am there.

I think she'll know, if not on earth but Elsewhere.

I guess I should mention that I composed the previous post at 1 am. I couldn't sleep on Tuesday night (actually, I DIDN'T sleep at all) and I thought that if I wrote down all the junk that was going through my mind, it would help me settle down and sleep and the previous post was the result of that. It didn't work but I am glad that I wrote that because I like it.

I went to karate class last night, after having NO sleep, with the "touch me" stuff on my mind. I had a couple interesting conversations with people online about the touching and some of the fun stuff that results from the touching. *looks at G* So I worked out in beginner class and I was just going to watch the advanced class, but they had uneven numbers when they paired up for warm-ups, so I jumped in to help out. Sensei Bartlett had us working some break away Krav Maga stuff and since another person joined the class after I did, there were uneven numbers again. Sensei Bartlett came to work with me since I am injured and he didn't anyone to hurt me.
The grab that I had to break away from was a throat grab.

Did I mention that Sensei Bartlett is young and good looking? And now his hand is at the base of my neck with his thumb tucked into the hollow of my throat.

Thank God I was already red from working out because I was blushing furiously. I could not keep my mind out of the gutter. I was supposed to be working on breaking away and to be honest, that was the last thing I wanted to do.

"Senseis are supposed to be old, wizened Chinese men" I muttered.

I think Sensei sensed what I was thinking because he seemed like he was getting a kick out of the whole thing. I couldn't even look him in the eyes.

Paralyzing shyness is not something that I experience often.

After we all stopped choking each other ( the technique was REALLY cool and I am glad that I learned it, but I think I would rather practice either with a girl or with HammieLove) we circled up for circle sparring. I thought it would be light contact because no one put sparring gear on.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

I was in charge of calling numbers because I can't spar. One person is in the middle and I would call a number of someone making the circle and they would jump in and fight the person in the middle. I called a number and the guy jumped in and started fighting Sensei Bartlett.

*wham*

Sensei Bartlett kicks the guy FULL force in the leg. They just start BRAWLING. Full contact, no pads. As different people jumped in, they just started going at it. Wrestling, jiu jitsu, just full out fighting. It was the coolest thing I have ever seen. You could hear the hits landing on thighs, stomachs, heads.

It was nuts. And you have to fight like that at testing. I found out last night that I will not be advanced testing for at least a year.

Thank God.

Touch me.

I am a very tactile person. I like touching, being touched. Some of my strongest memories are of the FEEL of something, like the cold ridges of the kitchen tile at my grandma’s house and the way it felt on my feet when I would stand in front of the space heater every morning, warming up before breakfast. I would probably recognize that tile pattern in another place if I walked on it barefoot, but I doubt I could identify it by sight.

I constantly twirl my hair. Long, thick, shiny and smooth. I have chestnut brown hair and have spent the last couple of years returning it to it’s natural color after I spend three or four years as a blond. At this time there are no chemicals at all in my hair and it is so soft as a result. I twirl it through my fingers like a valley girl with OCD. It annoys some, fascinates and mesmerizes others, and offers me comfort like nothing else on earth. I tried to curb the habit by using smooth stones to rub, but I love to pet my own hair.

The touching thing has actually gotten worse since I started my meds. I don’t know if I am just more aware of it since my brain isn’t as jumbled but I am driving myself mad.

Touch me.

I could lie for hours having my hair petted, pulled, played with. Being kissed, touched on the lips, the nape of my neck, the hollow of my throat, the spot where the collarbone meets the shoulder, the flat part of my hip.

I know this sounds sexual, but it’s not about sex. It’s about stimulation.

Heaven for me would be a vast wonderland of textures and no clothing required. Warm and fuzzy furs, suede, corduroy, cotton. Cold steel, smooth silks and thick pile carpeting that tickles your toes when you sink in. Fields of grass that won’t make you itch covered with every kind of blanket imaginable. Nothing feels better than lying on a blanket with blades of grass cushioning you and crunching beneath you while the sun bathes you with warm light.

One of my favorites spots on the human body is the little place right below your anklebone, almost on the side of your heel. That place has been soft and smooth on every person I have ever checked.

Go on, check. Then come sit on the couch with me and let me pet your feet.

Touching can be dangerous though.

One of my clients had on a crisp, white cotton dress shirt at the baseball game Monday night. I was itching to pet him all night, which I don’t think my boss or his girlfriend would have appreciated. I didn’t want to fuck him; I just wanted to touch his shirt, smooth out that cotton of the flat plane of his chest. People might confuse the desires or think they are the same, but they aren’t.

Am I oversexed? Well, yeah.

But that’s a whole ‘nother issue.

I love kneading my toes into my neighbor’s area rug because it tickles my feet, but I don’t want to fuck the rug. Get my point?

I wonder if this what a cat feels like when they are meowing for attention and entangling themselves in your legs. Pet me and I’ll arch my back like a cat, I might even purr. Hell, I’ll curl up on your lap and keep you warm at night.

Pin me to the cool white wall, hot bare skin pressed against the rough denim of your jeans, the metal zipper pressed against my tummy, the buttons of your shirt pressing a trail up my torso. Lie with me, fingers intertwined, legs entangled, hard masculine strength with soft feminine silk. Slide with me between satin sheets, letting the current of the fan flow over us, causing my hair to tickle your chest.

I feel like I am locked in a cage of sensuality, trapped, not by bars, but by a billion nerve endings that are simultaneously crying out for contact. I think I could handle it if this was all about sex, but how do I deal with basic human need for touch?

I just need that touch a little longer. The nibble to be a bite. The pull a little harder.

My need will never be satisfied. There will never be enough.

You can consider yourself warned though.

Because if we ever see each other, face to face…

You can tell me to keep my hands to myself.

I am so frustrated with my job right now that I want to scream, cry and quit. I have very high pressure sales assistant job that requires ALOT of organization. It is really not a good job for an ADHD person, but I have managed. My boss' are aware of my ADHD but the don't really understand.

LadyBoss is out of town in Hawaii and she left behind a ton of high priority stuff, namely a $500 million closing. There have also been problems with the 8 projects we have in Nevada, not to mention day to day management of her clients. Even when she is not on vacation, LadyBoss uses about 80% of my time.

BossMan KNOWS that she uses the majority of my time and to make up for it, he thinks of mundane, incosequential things for me to do -RIGHT NOW- so he feels like he is getting his share of my time. Most of the time, I have to move his stuff down my list because it is not as high of a priority.

This week he has been ALL over me about stuff. Asking me the same question four times in a row and wondering WHY I snapped at him. I know he is the boss and I am the assistant but he has no concept of how overwhelmed I am. I didn't do one thing for him yesterday (I was doing it a different way and forgot to tell him) and today I got the "We need to talk." He took me into the HR office (and our HR Manager is the BIGGEST gossip. She totally betrays the confidence of everyone who comes to her.) and told me that my tardiness, backtalk and lack of focus were really concerning him. The lack of focus left me flabbergasted. Well, DUH. I am working on it and it has gotten a lot better but he doesn't use me enough to see it. I have managed LadyBoss' affairs flawlessly since she has been gone. I might not be focused on him because I have a $500 million crisis going on. I know I need to work on the backtalk. I get frustrated and the filter between brain and mouth doesn't work so well. The tardiness I need to work on, but I have such a problem going to sleep that waking up is really hard! I always make up my time and actually have comp time on the books because I rarely take a lunch.

I just got so frustrated with him. I told him that I am trying as hard as I can. He needs to communicate to me when things are important and I need deadlines so I can schedule my time better. I asked him to stop asking me the same question over and over. I also asked him to read "Driven to Distraction." There is a section for employers. I want him to understand at least a little bit what I am going through. He was one of the ones that said "Oh everybody has ADD" when I told him. NO. THEY. DON'T. I told him that I didn't want him or anyone to think that I use my ADD as an excuse to be lazy, ditzy or irresponsible. I said I wished more than anything to be "normal" (at this point I began to cry). I am never going to be "normal." I am always going to be doing battle with my brain. I am always going to have to have a "system."

I wish there was a way to make them experience ADD. Like make them wear earphones all day that are playing a steady stream of a million thoughts over and over again. Tell them to work and focus with the background noise. Because my brain IS background noise. I heard someone say, "It's like an amusement park in your head."

*frustrated*

On the bright side... I have most definitely lost 15 pounds since July 9th. *shakes her slightly thinner booty*

I went to talk to my old instructor yesterday. Well, he didn't yell. He took me back in the office, left the door open and asked if he could respond to my complaints. He said that he shouldn't have yelled when Dez came to the studio that one time. He said that Chris (my old instructor) had medical insurance and was not supposed to ask the students for prescriptions and that he was popping pills like candy. He said that he should NOT have told Ingrid (my firned that he yelled at) about the pills. He said that the only swearing that he did at Ingrid was say "Fuck it." when he was walking out the door. He said that she called him a liar and that made him angry because he has never lied to anyone in his life. (I stopped him and said," I call bullshit. You NEVER lied to ANYONE. That's a lie. Everyone has lied to someone." He deflected that and moved on.) He said that he didn't lose Swiftkick. He said these kids were teasing the Swiftkick kids and when they went to leave, he put his hands on their shoulders and one of them "fell."

I told him that he places himself on a pedestal and it is a long way to fall when things go wrong. I said that you can't continually lose self control, apologize for it and expect everything to be okay. It comes to a point where the apology doesn't mean jack. I said that if a student had acted the way he did when he yelled at Dez, he would have gone ballistic on the student. I told him the way that he handled Chris leaving was unprofessional and that he didn't give Chris the respect that he deserved after working there for as long as he did for not a lot of money. I called him on when Dez hurt her ankle and he didn't want her to file worker's comp. He said that he wanted to send her to the doctor on his insurance and pay for it. Which is a lie. He intimidated Dez into not going to the doctor. I was THERE for that and he still lied to my face.

Then I told him I was late for class and I had to go. I told him I wanted to leave on good terms because I have friends who are testing for their black belts and I want to be there. He said that we weren't done talking yet, there was no closure. I have closure. I told him that there was nothing that he could say that would change my mind.

One of my other friends that is a candidate told me that if I had gone to black belt camp, I would have a different opinion of them. She said that he opened up about a lot of things and was really vulnerable to them. I told her I would have applauded his performance. The man has a DEGREE in theater, for god's sake! Last night, I could see the rage behind the mask and I KNOW he wanted to scream. I am a trained actress. I can recognize a good character when I see one. I am sure that there is a good man in there somewhere, but he is buried under layers and layers of ambition and greed.

HL said he couldn't believe some of the things I said. I am not intimidated by him anymore. I also think that he is a liar and refuses to accept responsibility for anything that goes wrong in his life.

I was late to class so I just used an open floor to work on white belt stuff. I finished my white belt form. It only took me about an hour total to learn it so I am starting to feel a little more optimistic about catching on to this new style.

Beginner class tonight, and since I missed advanced class last night, I might double up tonight.

OW.

So I started my new studio on Monday. Can I just say that this makes my old studio look like joke? I COULD. NOT. BELIEVE. some of the techniques that we were doing in the advanced belt class. I almost wish that I had started as a white belt.

I was fine with the 50 jumping jacks. The 60 full sit ups (no crunches here) were a little tough, but I did them. We started doing laps and my asthma kicked in, but I hung in there. I made it though 35 of the 50 push-ups before dropping my knees and finishing them girl style (which was okay, I think. The other girls did girl style.) Roundhouse kicks across the room, no biggie. Machine gun roundhouse kicks (where your leg stays up continuously as you hop across the room kicking) were tough, but okay. Roundhouse low, roundhouse high, jump 360 outer crescent kick, land and jump roundhouse with the other leg.

You want me to do *what*?!

I did it, with difficulty, but this is something that the second degrees don't even do at my old studio. When they started with the 540 jump hook kicks, I threw my hands up and went to get a drink of water. Asthma don't play that.

I am way out of my league.

But I am having fun, so I am going to stick with it. The teachers and students are all really nice. They think my wide eyed amazement at their abilities is funny because it is normal for them. I love doing the complicated aerials and I am looking forward to learning more. I was learning some black belt jiu jitsu and it was BAD. ASS.

I could barely walk yesterday, so the perfect solution was to go to beginner's class that night. I have a schedule of 6 nights of class until I catch up. Mon/Wed - advanced class Tues/Thurs - beginner class, Fri -class for transfer students, Sat-sparring.

And tonight I have to go in and quit my old studio before class at my new studio. Would it be fucked to wear my new uniform to my old studio? Yeah, I thought so too. I will have the pants on because I won't have time to change, but I won't wear the jacket. I am telling the Hypocrite where I am going, so it is not like I have to keep it a secret.

J (my co worker) is pissing me off today. I was grumbling about being sore (my ribs are sore...are there even muscles OVER you ribs?) and asked her about rib muscles. She was like, "Drama! You are always complaining about something! blahblahblah"

Hello? Kettle? This is the pot. You're black.

"Drama!" coming from the alcoholic who fell off the wagon Monday night, who is constantly breaking/making up with her rock star boyfriend. Who I have had to drive home from jail/to court/to doctor? I am grumbling about my sore abs and THAT is drama? It is not even really grumbling, more of "I am so excited about this new studio that I want to talk about it at every chance."

I am going to go get a protein shake for lunch...

Transition

I will practice with courtesy, loyalty and respect. I will live having honor, integrity and self control.

These are the vows that I, along with every other person in my Tae Kwon Do studio, had to recite every class, beginning and end, before we bowed in and out to our instructors. In between bowing in and out, we would focus on our art, the physical and spiritual aspects. We listened to our instructors lecture about the "black belt way of life" and the "black belt spirit." We were told to never lose focus, do our best, lift each other up, and NEVER quit.

I quit my Tae Kwon Do studio. Well, I haven't "officially" yet, but that is only because I haven't had the chance. I will be going in tomorrow to speak with my instructor.

You want to know why? Four reasons, each building up on the other until I reached my breaking point.

#1 My best friend, Dez, stopped going to our studio a little over a year ago when she started going to school full time and working full time. She was an instructor and second degree black belt. She and our head instructor had always had a volatile love/hate relationship. They were in the hate stage when she left. She came to watch me test earlier this year and afterward, he muscled in on her saying,"Do you want to talk to me?" She was rude, I give him that, but nothing excused his loss of SELF CONTROL when he started screaming at her, in front of other students, to get out and never set foot in his studio again, before he stormed off swearing and hitting the wall. He apologized later, but by then, I had sworn to get my black belt and get out. Only a year left.

#2 My other favorite instructor, who had practiced and taught at our studio for 15 years, was suddenly gone. Just gone. This happened right at the end of my "mental health" hiatus that I took at the beginning of this year. I came back, he wasn't there, and if we asked why, we were told nothing. I finally got it from one of my friends that works there that he was fired. The head instructor never told anyone and we were reprimanded if we were caught talking about him. Where is the COURTESY when you won't tell the children that were taught by this man where their instructor went? Where is the RESPECT to this intructor who gave up a lot of his life for not a lot money just out of love and loyalty to the studio? Then I also heard from a black belt that our head instructor was telling select people that the fired instructor had been soliciting prescription drugs from one of the students that is a doctor. Whether that is true or not, is there HONOR and INTEGRITY in spreading around a rumor about a man who is not there to defend themself? "One year left till my black belt. I can hang in there."

#3 My studio sponsored a program at the local schools for underpriveleged kids called Swiftkick, in partnership with the local police department. My head instructor would go to schools and teach the basics of martial arts and self defense. Last month, some kids that were not in the program were taunting my instructor and he took discipline into his own hands and grabbed them and threw them to the ground. He ASSAULTED grade school kids! Where is the SELF CONTROL? Needless to say, he lost the Swiftkick program. But I am SO close to my black belt, just hang in there...

#4 One of my friends, who is a second degree black belt along with being the nicest, sweetest person that I have ever known, had to back out of volunteering for the four day black belt camp because she was still going to get charged $150 to volunteer and she couldn't afford it. When she told our instructor, he took this 18 year old girl, went alone with her into his office, shut the door and blinds, stood two inches from her face and screamed and cursed at her for an hour. She quit that day and so did her brother, who was an instructor and 3rd degree black belt.

That was the final straw for me. To BOW to this man and say I will live with honor, integrity and self control? No way, Jose. I made the decision then and there that I was done. I will set foot in that studio only to tell him I am through. I spent Saturday looking for a new studio and found one (that's another post). My new sensei has given me advice on what to say (he knows my former instructor very well.) I was at first going to get a doctor's note to get out of my contract since my knee is still not healed, but I decided that if I am leaving based on honor and integrity issues, I will leave WITH honor and integrity. I am going to be truthful and tell him why I am leaving and let him know it will be beneficial for us both to let me leave quietly. I will only tell one person in my class why I am leaving and it is because she is a very good friend. If he fights me though, I will not leave quietly.

I am sad about leaving my studio. I have been there for three years, watched little girls grow into young women, teenage punks grow into gentlemen. I have a lot of friends and was looking forward to going through the rigors of our black belt year with them.

That chapter of my life is done now. I am starting fresh with a new studio, a new art.

To be continued...

Damned if you do, damned if you don't

Seeing the massive security surrounding the financial institutions in NYC inspires two emotions in me.

Fear.

Comfort.

The fact that the administration is stepping up to protect our people, even if some of the information that they have is old, is comforting. I am sure the people who work on Wall Street are glad to see the military, SS, and NYPD in attendance for their safety. I know I would be.

So why are people (liberals) talking about overreacting? This just proved to me that in the liberal media, Bush/Ridge/Republicans can do nothing right.

Can you imagine if on September 11, Bush and the FAA had grounded planes and evacuated the World Trade Center? There would have been no attack and the liberals would have had a FIELD DAY about the President "overreacting." They would have called him paranoid. I truly believe that if he had taken the drastic steps necessary to thwart the terrorists, he would have been met with resistance every step of the way, especially since there had never been an attack of that magnitude on American soil.

I support what the Homeland Security people are doing. I say "Better safe than sorry."