show me the G Love
Saturday afternoon i found myself and Shamu-Ramu-I've-Got-The-Connections-Ding-Dong (aka Shannon) in a dark and seedy dive downtown. Shannon had gotten the hook-ups to see a special, relatively private pre-Street Scene performance by G-Love & Special Sauce at the Casbah. Admittedly, neither of us were "true fans", and while we waited for the show to begin, we scanned the dim room and counted the number of Lance Armstrong bracelets we could see (11! out of about 70 people!). With the generally milling around of people, one super tall guy caught my attention. Shannon said "wouldn't that be funny if that was G-Love?" (again, not true fans here), and while we shared a good chuckle about that, Mr. Tall Man took the stage and started busting out in song.

Well, who'da thunk.

We ended up getting a pic with the Love courtesy of Shannon's cell phone:

I would like to point out that the look on my face is directly reflective of the fact that G was doing a little digging with that visible hand of his. The boy's got amazing blue eyes... and quite a grip.

the end
today my horoscope mentions: If you want to meet active people and potential companions, engage in sports for fun. Too bad I had my last lesson with Mr. Shnappy yesterday. On the upside, I got paired up with him in doubles and managed to perform some pretty brilliant shots (mostly by accident, but had i been known as a better player, they would have been quite impressive); there was a lot of high-fiving going on. On the downside, i was going to actually ask him out (karaoke anyone?), but didn't get a chance to as he was drooling and fawning over another girl's brand new motorcycle... but at least that may have cleared up the gay?straight? question. I did learn some game, though, as the bike-girl told him "here, let me give you my business card and i'll take you on a ride sometime..." OHHHHH, so THAT'S how you do that. I'm clueless.

yesterday i was driving to work and there were hundreds of pages flying about the freeway. It was fun and fantastical and all in slow-motion (except i was going 80). out of the paper fog, i noticed a bunny hopping out into the lane. There was a big enough gap between me and the car in front that he could leisurely hophophop... as i looked into the rearview mirror, thinking on how fitting he was to the floating papers, he got run right over by a big-ass truck. I didn't feel good the rest of the day.

and ladies, he's available
guess whose birthday it is!

hehehe, this picture is delightful, i love it... you should see the t-shirt version! i'm still trying to figure out how (or why!) this boy puts up with me, hahaha

ichi nen mae

tadaima!

literally translated, it means "i have gone and come back". today is my one-year anniversary of being back from japan... wow...

hold on a sec while i catch my breath.

i won't get all reminisce-ish on you, but let's just say that it's been quite a ride. And to celebrate, we're going to get very japanese-y and go karaoke on friday (at a korean bar, but whatever)... all are welcome!

we all scream
score one for the san diego girl in the "venturing out" category! Yesterday I hopped in the b*star car and zoomed up to North Hollywood for ice cream. Yup, pretty much that was the goal. 2 hours, several lanes of traffic, and one smog-headache later, ji and i arrived at john bwarie's 7th annual ice cream party, aimed to raise $1000 for campo de cahuenga. i know john from college and had never been able to attend the infamous annual ice cream party and all it's free frozen confections (yes!) and prize-winning potential (the raffle is the bulk of the fundraising). The best part, besides the free ice cream, was hooking up with some college friends i haven't seen since graduation. definitely worth the drive even if we didn't win anything (insert sad face here).

me no feel so good
i've been a little spacey the past few days, so i actually took advantage of the little PTO i have and went home from work early. of course, i stayed for lunch, paid for by the boss-lady, to which i can say "mmmm, pizzookies..."

"We hope you can find somebody who is wealthy enough to afford you."

According to humanforsale.com, I am worth exactly $2,377,470.00.

high budget, low maintenance.

disturbed
"The firemen were certainly concerned about the rabbit. They felt sorry for it," said Bedbrook.

and on a completely different note: things have been quiet on the b-hoshi front for a number of reasons. For one thing, petco had its annual tradeshow last week, and i was the designated 'fort-holder', which means that it was deaddeaddeadsky over here, and pretty much the less i HAVE to do, the less i actually do, on all fronts. Pretty much why i hate weekends.
On a less professional, definitely more personal note, i have been the nucleus of quite a bit of drama-rama in the ongoing saga of 'as the dojo turns', and the insistent abrasion has managed to erode some of my "well, whatever" attitude into a more "screw you, and you, and you" point of view. And i don't like being like that, so you know it has to be pretty heavy. The biggest challenge in all of this has been trying to wrap my own perspective around where these rumors and rumblings are coming from; i figure if i can know why exactly i seem to be the target, i'll know how to fix it. But there seems to be no logic, no credible evidence to point to and say "there, that's why". it's merely people being threatened by me, and everything that little word 'me' stands for. Not something i can help, which is comforting in a way, but still hard not to take personally.

a slight snag in the master plan
i was done with all my work by 8 this morning. like ALL my work, including those distant projects of "wouldn't it be nice if...". plus there's no one here; i counted 7 cars in the parking lot, none of which belonged to anyone i know... this could spell t-r-o-u-b-l-e... def: what britt gets into when she's bored.

latest news on the hot-tennis-coach front: found out his last name is SCHNAPPY. i'm afraid i might not be able to live with that.

'creepy guy' nomination:
the gym at sunday's tournament was so stifling hot that i thought i might just pass out, no floor-allergy involved. I decided to get some "fresh" LA air, and found a seat in the shade near the front door. My reflections on life/love/karate/etc were not so subtly interrupted by a large man bearing an "EMT" shirt tucked into some embarrassingly tight black jeans and adorned with a large gold chain. He inquired about my position, my participation at the tournament, and my involvement with other men. He asked me out once and asked my name twice. He also made it clear that he doesn't do mouth-to-mouth. I hadn't asked.
I somehow escaped back into the sauna of the gym, and shared my experience with the skeptics I call my team.
After I had changed into my gi and was getting ready to go to staging, the medic walked up to the stands, tugged on my sleeve with a "I'll be rootin' for ya." The skeptics turned believers.
As I finished my kata, I could hear a deep, exuberant, nearby voice yelling "YAH BRITT!". My medic was right on the sidelines, clapping wildly. I bowed out and sat down, only to be tuned into a different kind of drama unfolding: one of our kids, Tony, had managed to get bopped in the nose... I was made aware of this by his mom yelling (from the stands) "Tony, DON'T GET IT ON THE GI!!" and "STICK A PLUG IN IT AND LET'S GO!". Unfortunately for Tony (and the gi), the medic was too busy with his personal rah-rah for me that he wasn't even tuned into the bloody mess behind him... Sorry 'bout that, Tony.

a day in the life
let me break down a typical tournament day for those of you not in-the-know:
sometime between 7-8am: meet up with other fools like you to carpool to the tourney. Save the earth and all that. Stop at least once to load up on coffee/snackys/bathroom time.
sometime between 9-10:30am: arrive for check-in. Hope you've managed to miss some of the tournament already, but find that they are horribly behind schedule. Find the rest of your team in the stands, crawl over various audience members, maneuver cumbersome karate bags into seats, settle in to uncomfortable position in the hard wooden stands.
around 10:30am-1:30pm: long bouts of boredom peppered with occassional cheering as your black belts (they get to go first) and/or younger teammates compete (kids also go before you). Cheer::boredom time = 1::50 approx. Gossip. Scope the scene to see who else may be in your division. Freak yourself out when you see really big girls walking around with your color belt; pray they are really "kids".
abouts 1:30pm: change into your gi. Check into staging. Replace earlier activities of generally sitting around with generally standing around. Attempt to warm-up and practice a little, but diplomatically decide that you "don't want to run into other people" though the real reason is that the gang of butterflies in your stomach is pretty much holding you hostage to inactivity.
2pm-ish: walk with your division to your ring. Stand around more. Bow in with the judges, then sit until you are called 'on deck.' Get up and move around to shake the last of the butterflies out, walk up to ring. Bow, bow, yell, perform, bow, score, bow, bow, sit. Approximate action time = 2 minutes.
2:30pm: finish with division, receive medal. Skip fighting as you discover no one else was dumb enough to sign up for kumite, argue with head judge that you really don't need to stay if you aren't fighting anyone else. Lose argument, bow in and be awarded with gold medal anyway.
3:00pm: grab your carmates, speed change out of your gi, head home. Catch up on karate gossip, make friends on the highway, stop at least once for lunch/dinner. Get home and crash.

from now on
i'll connect the dots my own way.

fiery
yesterday, as i flew down the foggy hill from del mar heights to via de la valle, i noticed the ocean was on fire... for a brief moment the red sun blazed in a limbo under the clouds and over the ocean so intensely that i was absolutely enchanted with the world.

on tuesday i met up with a MIA friend who i haven't seen in years, it seems. he was sitting on a bench waiting for me and talking with 2 older women. when he jumped up to hug me, the ladies commented on how he was such a nice young man, how i was lucky to have such a nice husband, and how he was lucky to have a nice looking girl. our looks of amusement translated pretty clearly: "...unless that's not your wife..." Of course not; i'm that scandalous other woman!!

my horoscope ends today with: "Singles experience turns in the romantic plot. The one you've got a crush on has interest in you, too." that's good news on the hot-tennis-coach front.

glow
if i could afford it, i think i would go to the spa every week. or at least every month. it's one of the few prettyprettyprincess indulgences i allow myself, and this time 'round, i even got a few compliments on my post-spa treatment glow. ((ahhhhh))

the wedding was awesome, absolutely beautiful, and so much fun. I'm a bit of a mush pot when i see people so vulnerable in their feelings like the happy couple looked coming down the aisle. it's inspiring, and even thinking about it now is making me a little misty ((hand waving furiously at face, eyes turned to the ceiling, a tiny sniffle escapes)). I got some fun new (stiletto!) shoes, surprisingly comfortable enough to put just about the most mileage in on the dance floor. there's not too much to say about the post-festivities activities other than the following points: (1)ji is wonderful, and i love having her as part of my life, (2) i was offered a job, which would have fulfilled my mom's once-career planning for me, (3) i was group complimented by 6 or 7 doctors, (4) i love shirts+ties on guys, but the suit jacket is absolutely irresistible.