Anyone been keeping track of how long I've been MIA this time?  Anyone?  I've been everyplace and no place, sometimes simultaneously, so am I back? That depends on who you ask. Physically, I'm home now, emotionally, I'm still 52 miles North, kind of wanting to savor those few delicious days for a bit before officially making my re-entry into reality.  And no, before you ask me, I'm not going to explain that last sentence. 

    Last time I was in here, I was going through the pre-tournament meltdown.  For those curious, I survived the tournament, as for the burning question, "did you do well?"  Define that for me? By doing well do you mean did I get a medal?  The answer is no.  So, if you feel that not taking home a medal indicates that I didn't do well, I'll wait while you fuck off.  International competitions are vicious.  During the 9 hours I was in the gymnasium either watching my son compete, watching my dojo mates compete, waiting to compete, and actually competing, I saw the medic flag go up more times that I have ever before.  The kata competition wasn't brutal, in a physical sense, but with competitors from various forms of Japanese karate traveling in from over 50 countries including the Japanese National team, a team from South Africa, and a Venezuelan national team with a bad attitude, competition was tight and mind fucking was rampant, the gold medal winner in my division edging out 4th, 5th, and my 6th place by a mere 4/10 of a point over. Free sparring was a whole different story.

    As many of you know, I had to compete in the 18-39 year old division at this tournament seeing as I am 38.  I will be competing in this division until September 2009 (yay for me), but there's nothing I can do about it.  To save time, and because I have to leave in half an hour, I'll sum up.  No, I didn't take home a medal, yes, I fought hard-even scoring the first point in my match, but...in the end, I lost to a 19 year old Japanese National team member who kicked me once really fucking hard.  After moving to the edge of the ring to watch the rest of the women get the living shit beat out of them, witnessing medics coming in to examine the woman who took a spinning back fist across her ENTIRE face at full force, medics coming in again to check the woman who was kicked in the gut so hard she left the floor and landed in a crumpled heap on her side OUTSIDE the ring, and various and assorted other injuries sustained or doled out, one by one we eliminated fighters started to smile that knowing smile of relief.  I can honestly say it's better to walk out of the ring, defeated after fighting a good hard fight, than to be carried out or taken out because you are physically unable to continue.  So, yes, I did well. Thank you for asking.  And yes, I'll be fighting again this summer, This time training EVEN harder!  

    Never has quiet been so loud as it is tonight.  Silence pierced briefly by phone calls, people checking in, seeing if I'm ready, or telling me they can't make it, and other meaningless mind addling bullshit.  I'm as ready as I can possibly be, and if I wasn't, do you think I'd tell anyone?  So far the only real thing I have accomplished to mentally prepare myself is to paint my toenails a sultry shade of deep metallic red.  It's my war paint. Might seem trivial to some, but as I sit on that competition floor worrying that my legs/feet/ass will fall asleep while I'm waiting to be called to perform or fight and my vision of swaggering into the ring like I'm ready to kick ass in battle turns into more of a drunken sailor style stagger because one of my extremities went numb, at least I can look down and see my pretty toenails.  Little things.  I don't watch the other competitors during the kata competition, all I need is to see someone do an incorrect move in the kata I planned to perform, so I look at my toes.  "Just do it the way you learned it" was a pearl of advice handed to me by a black belt before my last testing.  It must have worked because a couple of weeks ago I was advanced in rank again making me 5th kyu, half way to black belt.  I'm rambling, because I'm nervous, and I'm alone, and messenger fucked me over AGAIN, which is why I ended up here. The thoughts need to go somewhere, anywhere, I just need them out of my head. 

   The deep bruise on my thigh hasn't healed at all, but it's not as tender as it was all week, so I'm sure it's not going to be an issue at the tournament, unless I take a kick to the inner thigh. Next time I'll remember not to take a pole dancing class the week before a tournament. I'm alternating between being pissy and being pathetic now.  I finished loading my mp3 player with ass kicking songs, including the one in the media player now (which I am calling my official anthem for tomorrow).  Now, I think it's time to go to bed.   

BH tagged me...So if my answers are not to your liking, take it up with him...he's waiting to kick someone's ass.

Two Names you go by:  Raven & something I can't tell you due to national security issues

Two Things you are wearing right now: Cherry almond body butter and a necklace

Two Things you want or have in a relationship: a good fuck and a good laugh

Two of your favorite things to do: see above answer

Two things you did last night: chat with one of my favorite people and sleep with Raul

Two people you last talked to: Karla and my son

Two Things you are doing tomorrow: Can't you just watch the surveillance footage?

For those who truly enjoy the soft focused roses and candlelight kind of celebration I think you'll like this:

And for the rest, let's just cut through the bullshit! 

No matter how you choose to celebrate or not celebrate, remember to tell someone special that you love them, not just today, but every day.  Make every second count.

This Valentine's Day public service message brought to you by:

The Magnificent Raven

Coming soon to a theater near you

     What would drive a 38 year old mother of two to gear up and step into a competition ring to fight?  The adrenaline rush, that's what! There is a certain breed of people who truly enjoy the challenges life offers or even throws at them.  I am one of those people.  Sitting still and blending in aren't natural for me.  The easy route bores me to tears. Doing what's expected of me in no way interests me. I need more.  I need to feel uncomfortable once in a while, it reminds me that I'm alive.  I like the butterflies in my stomach and the way my heart rate increases when I burst forth into unknown territory.  I like to be pushed beyond my comfort zone, if I indeed have a comfort zone.  The jury is still out on that one, but at last check, the general consensus declared me virtually fearless and a little insane.  Is this a problem?

    Last Saturday I went up to the main dojo to test up a kyu level.  I kicked that test's ass!!  Grace under pressure is something I strive to achieve.  Once again finding myself in front of several esteemed black belts who have been brought in for the sole purpose of watching my every move and critiquing it makes my body surge with enough electricity to power a small country.   Despite knowing that every move simply cannot be executed perfectly, my body and mind work as a unit to get as close as I can.  Having mistakes pointed out and being offered little hints and tricks puts a smile on my face.  The spirit these black belts possess is tangible.  I soak in every word they say, making the small adjustments they suggest to help me on my voyage to join them at that table one day, making eye contact and answering in Japanese to convey my understanding and respect for their help so that I can walk out of that testing just that much better than I walked in.  I can't get enough.  Even though my sensei decided to spring this test on me, I walked in confidently, head held high, making eye contact with our Shihan, and stood, hands in ready position and prepared for anything and everything.  Not knowing what we'll be asked to do makes me love it even more.  When you are overly prepared, your brain tries to anticipate which hinders your body's ability to react.  Our test is run entirely in Japanese, so commands are given in strange and unfamiliar combinations and at the whim of the head of our form, testing our ability to pick out each individual move rather than perform them in the combination we may be used to.  At several points during the tests he issued the command to stop then immediately issued another set of commands.  It was our job to continue with the new combination.  That's why it's called "testing".  Oh I'm so brilliant.  You should all get together and erect something in my dishonor. 

     After testing last week, several of us were approached and asked to compete in an exhibition tournament so that our black belts can learn, practice, and understand charting, scoring and refereeing.  Of course I agreed!  I have never full contact free sparred in competition, so I was damn near giddy to spar today.  I had no idea what was in store when I set out alone this morning, but I had those butterflies I love, so I was A-Ok!  Naturally, I made the 25 minute drive with my music at a volume that shook my rear window and I was cruising well above the speed limit, but thankfully, my drive was free from folks navigating the treacherous highways whilst wearing their light-up asshats.  I got to save my can of whoop ass to crack open at the exhibition.  I'm sure you are all breathing easier with that knowledge.  For now. 

     Once inside, we were divided into four groups and assigned a ring where we would start.  My first exhibition was kata, which I like, but it's not my favorite event.  I learned that the judging begins the second we are called to the ring's edge.  How we walk into the ring is judged, how we bow, how we stand, our spirit, our focus, and how we call our kata.  All of this before we even execute the first move.  The rest is just details which will mean nothing really to the majority of people reading this.  You're all still waiting for the graphic nudity and full frontal violence, aren't you? 

     45 minutes of rotating through kata competition and we were moved to the next ring.  FREE SPARRING!  Now this is why I came up on such a gorgeous Sunday when I could have been at the beach AGAIN!!  My group only had 3 women in it, me being one of them, so we got to spar A LOT in 45 minutes, whereas the men only went up once or twice.  There was one woman ranked a kyu level above me and one below, so it was good for all of us.  After gloving up and slipping my mouth guard in, I discovered several distinct differences in men's and women's sparring, starting with the initial bow upon entering the ring.  Most of the men walked into the ring faster, almost anxiously, not really making eye contact.  They lined up on their assigned sides and waited to be given the command to fight, at which time all of the men touched gloves before going at it.  Now the women...Sophia and I have attended several of the same karate events, seminars,  and or testings, we get along really well, laughing, joking, the whole bit, but once we were called to the edge of the ring for our initial bow in, our eyes hardened, our faces were void of any visible signs of friendship or familiarity, all we needed was someone to announce, "two women enter, one woman leaves" and it would have been Thunderdome! We stood, eyes locked as we bowed and stepped to our lines where we bowed to each other once again and brought our fists up to ready position.  As the command to fight was issued, each of us unleashed a kiai reminiscent of a savage battle cry before coming in ready to kick some serious ass!  Blows were traded, punches thrown, blocks, counters, strikes, she landed an awesome punch to my ribcage in one combination but I came back with two roundhouse kicks fired off in rapid fire succession making contact with her ribcage hard enough to make the competitors on deck grimace and the poor woman waiting to fight one of us next gasped loud enough to be heard over the competition.  While you are in the ring, all you concentrate on is your opponent, whether or not you are scoring points is not important. We have faith that the referee will stop and start the match as necessary.  Sparring is by far my FAVORITE thing I have done in karate thus far!  I can honestly say that I like it maybe a little too much and can't wait to compete against women from all over the world in two weeks.  Once our match was over, unlike the men who shook hands and embraced, Sophia and I bowed, kept our fists clenched, backed up to the edge of the ring, eyes still locked, and bowed out.  After this rotation we were all jokes and laughter again, but dammit, while we're in the ring, we're warriors!  The next two rotations were weapons kata and weapons sparring.  FUN FUN FUN!!

    My my, this ended up being a rather long entry, and hopefully it helped get you over the hump before you can get another fix of Raven time.  Between tomorrow and the tournament on the 24th, my calendar is covered in sharpie reminders of classes, volunteer gigs, training, doctor's and dentist appointments, an exotic dance/pole tricks workshop, shopping, chauffeuring, jumping on the trampoline and what I did most of the day yesterday: playing at the beach, watching dolphins, and capitalizing on this glorious weather. 

   I'm sorry I haven't been leaving comments much lately, I will make it up to you with warm cookies and inappropriate comments when you least expect it.  Now who wants to fight?  Anyone? 

     Like where's Waldo, but without horizontal stripes and much much cooler.  I see my absence is being felt, well, my something was being felt and the hand in question was COLD!  I'm on my way to bed, so I am going to give you a quickie.  Now, let me 'splain, no no, too long, let me sum up:

     Since I was here last I have lost my mind, decided to run to the gym- lift weights- then run home 5 days a week, do stuff, go to karate, do more stuff, put in volunteer hours at the kid's schools, check behind couch for more time to do more stuff, wonder why no one has shown up to lend a hand or mouth to help so I can do even more stuff, plotted my revenge on those who ask me if I "had fun" in karate as if it's some cute little Betty fucking Crocker homemaker class I'm attending, cut my own hair after toying with the idea of flying in a certain cold weather hostage former cosmetological scientist with a mutual love of Bloodhound Gang, beat the tar out of my kick boxing bag, set the recent batch of homemade porn starring just me and a few Godzilla puppets to music before posting it on youtube, see if anyone reading this is actually paying attention, prepare to test up to 5th kyu in karate at 10am Saturday morning (Feb.2), not thought about fighting in the tournament, cut my youngest sister's hair not once, or twice, but three times, thought about fighting in the tournament, exercised restraint by NOT buying a fierce pair of wildly impractical but oh so fucking sexy shoes I moaned lustily over earlier in the week, practiced my test kata one hundred and fifty million times, smiled A LOT, and...and...the rest is classified, if I told you, I'd have to kill you.  

     If you see me wandering aimlessly and muttering unintelligibly, feed me a little something and keep me there until I arrive to reclaim myself. 

     Who's turn is it to pre-warm my bed and has that warm body I requested for snuggling against been delivered yet?  Has it?  I'm off to burrow under my down comforter and wait then. 

      In case I forget, I wanted to say thank you for bearing with my utterly forgettable and unimaginative blogging style of late.  My re-entry will be spectacular in a month or so...you might want to get as much sleep as you can, stock up on plastic drop cloths, and strengthen your grip in preparation.