Writing for I Am That Girl

Hey people,

FYI I haven't gone totally MIA. I'm still writing sports but for I Am That Girl.

Btw, anyone hear the news that Becks doesn't want to come back to LA from AC Milan? Who could have predicted that? Hmmm.....oh yes. Me. The moment they announced the loan. That's right.

New Book, New Post, New Blurb

If you didn't already know it, I am strongly against the grasp and length of modern copyright law. I recommend Free Culture by Lawrence Lessig as a good read and have recently picked up another book that seems to be somewhat like-minded. It's called arts, inc.: How Greed and Neglect Have Destroyed Our Cultural Rights by Bill Ivey. I've only read the preface so far...but a few mentionable quotes to share...

Steven Pearlstein, writing in the Washington Post, argues that the term of copyright protection has been extended "well beyond what is reasonably required to meet the aim of encouraging artistic creation."

"Our scattershot cultural policy has failed to balance the public interest with the marketplace. It is time to establish a new set of goals designed to reclaim art and culture for the American people; it is time to assert the rights of citizens to the multiple benefits of an arts system turned to public purposes."

The Gathering, in the beginning

There are very few novels which grab you before page 30 and have you thinking, "Yeah. This is going to be really good," but The Gathering by Anne Enright is hitting me just that way.

I get really excited by books that read like literature, not like entertainment only, but which are thought-provoking throughout their texts. That's probably why I end up reading Evelyn Waugh rather than Sophie Kinsella despite the social trends of those in my demographic. But Enright invites the reader to question her and wander (and wonder) away from her with the first lines: "I would like to write down what happened in my grandmothers house the summer I was eight or nine, but I am not sure it really did happen. I need to bear witness to an uncertain event." I count three blatant uncertainties and could produce a couple more if I were truly to analyze the tone and diction and go serious literature student on you, but I'll spare you.

Immediately I start thinking about the essence of memory and story-telling, how the truth we proclaim isn't really the truth, but our own perception of a slightly (or enormously) tweaked version of events, of half-truths and partial-events. There are tons of studies out there on the reliance of memory, especially over time, questioning its accuracy to history...and here is a story where a grown woman, with children of her own, proclaims she is going to recollect what happened in her elementary school days.

Already, the voice is so caustically honest at points (ie: There were girls at school whose families grew to a robust five or six. There were girls with seven or eight - which was though a little enthusiastic - and then there were the pathetic ones like me, who had parents that were just helpless to it, and bred as naturally as they might shit) and other times where the image is too romanticized to seem possible. (ie: She walked into the foyer and did not look about her and sat in an oval-backed chair near the door. Lamb Nugent watched her through a rush of arrivals and instructions as she removed her left-hand glove and then picked off the right. She pulled a little bracelet our from under her sleeve, and the hand that held the gloves settled in her lap. She was beautiful, of course.) Enright paints a world tainted with vivacious colors or dripping in sepia. Either way, it's engaging.

All this, and I've only briefly touched upon a topic I could expand upon for pages. And this, only one of several topics I could discuss in the 30 pages I've read. And those 30 pages being less than a sixth of the book. And really, I have spoken hardly an ounce about any character or plot line but rather about the intricacies of the text, where literature really rests. Talk about the tip of the iceberg.

New Music

Here's the sampler I sent out to several close friends. My favorite find on it was Jaymay, who I saw live at The Hotel Cafe (on the hotel cafe tour) in October. (She's in the picture.)

Ingrid Michaelson (of Old Navy sweater song fame...her new album has some new songs and some covers. I included one of each.)
1. Be OK
2. Can't Help Falling in Love

James Morrison (one of my favorite male voices. but his first cd was better than this one)
3. You Make it Real
4. Nothing Ever Hurt Like You

Jaymay (apparently has a thing for colors)
5. Gray or Blue
6. Snow White

Jem (not the cartoon. the welsh artist. i waited several years for this album...nothing is worth that wait. but i'm very glad she finally released this because I am loving it)
7. I Want You to...
8. It's Amazing
9. Got it Good

Jenny Lewis (lead singer of Rilo Kiley's second solo album explores a number of different genres, as influenced with these two songs)
10. See Fernando
11. Jack Killed Mom

Low vs. Diamond (a band that's been around but never broken through. solid rock songs)
12. Don't Forget Sister
13. Actions are Actions

Meiko
14. Reasons to Love You
15. Boys with Girlfriends
16. Under my Bed


The songs all come off of recent albums or EPs (in the case of Jaymay). I wrote a review of the show I saw which included Jaymay and Meiko as well as a few others including Erin McCarley (whose January release I am eager for) and Rachael Yamagata. The site I wrote it for is temporarily down but check in at iamthatgirl.com to read it.

Evil Villainy Amongst Losers

In an episode that at first seemed to announce Armageddon, the first prophecy to fulfill the protevangelium came through at the end. No. I'm not talking about "Left Behind" (book or movie). I'm talking about "The Biggest Loser."

This season began badly and got worse when the duos of family members split up into the traditional two teams: black and blue. I'd never complain about Jillian; her tactics bring a smile to my face. And I have my individual favorites....and not favorites. The not favorites, as fate would have it, ended up teaming up on the blue team and birthing the demonic Vicky/Heba stronghold (or death hold, as you will).

Though Heba is simply annoying in her strident attitude that she's in charge, we all know Vicky's pulling the manipulator's reigns. She sparks conflict, fuels feuds, and feeds contestants to elimination....until tonight.

In the greatest turn of events in any single episode, Vicky's husband (and alliance) was up for elimination with a member of the opposite team. Blue vs. Black. Blue with 4 votes, black with 2. It was going to be a dark, dark day. Vicky confidently announced to the audience that it didn't matter that Brady was on the chopping block, blue had the dominant number of votes. But she underestimated the quietest teammate (and thereby the ONLY blue member I can stand to watch), good ole Amy C. Amy voted Brady and tossed him off the ranch, presumably igniting the wrath of Vicky, and effectively redistributing herself back onto the black team.

I honestly don't think she cares about losing weight--it's all about winning the money. The weight is only a means to the money. And money, as we know, is the root of all evil.

Advantage: black.
Hopeful outcome: the defeat of evil.

It's the American way. May the good guys win and the vi[cky]llain get her due.

I feel like doing an evil laugh in anticipation.

The Ugly Duckling

I'm currently reading a book called The 101 Most Influential People Who Never Lived. Now, clearly, they use the term "people" rather loosely because #55 is The Ugly Duckling. And though most of the book's short essays are rather comical (and therefore sometimes confusing if you're not familiar with the character being discussed), I thought this one was rather poignant. So the following is that essay, taken directly from that book....

The Ugly Duckling--#55
Parents have related this story to their children for the past 150 years and will undoubtedly continue to do so unless we can find a way to successfully boycott this outrageous tale. For those of you who do not recall Hans Christian Andersen's 1844 story, here it is in brief.
On a summer's day in a farmyard, a duck hatches several ducklings, all of which are adorable except the last. He came from the largest of her eggs and was "different," ugly. Because of this, he was physically and emotionally abused.
Unable to endure this mistreatment, he ran away. During the following fall and winter, he survived many dangerous and nerve-racking adventures. He was almost killed by hunters and their dogs, but escaped and found shelter in a woman's cottage. However, she soon turned him out because he could not lay eggs.
During the winter, he became frozen to the surface of a pond. A peasant freed him and took him home, but the bird frightened his children. As a result, he was again turned out and had to spend the rest of the hard winter in misery and privation.
In the spring, he saw three lovely white swans and flew into the water next to them. Totally discouraged and depressed by his constant rejection, he told them to kill him and bent his head down awaiting death. But in the water he saw his image. He was no longer ugly, but a graceful, beautiful swan; the most handsome of them all. The older swans bowed their heads before him. In his bliss, he tells us that he could never have been this happy if he had remained an ugly duckling.
While parents may rationalize that they are merely introducing their children, especially their young daughters, to the realities of the world, they should think of the distorted values they are promoting and stop this nonsense. In fact, it's wore than nonsense. The story is downright insulting and degrading to the overwhelming majority of us who have remained "ugly ducklings" throughout our entire lives.
The tale ignores our inherent worth, our intelligence, wealth of acquired knowledge, hard work, and creative capacities. It give tacit approval to childhood bullying and marginalization of those who are "different," while ignoring the humanistic concept of the worth of each person.
We should encourage our children to develop mental, emotional, and physical strengths. We should teach them not to rely on physical attractiveness.
Let's stop telling our children that beauty is the central focus of their worth, that a woman's attractiveness is her "wealth" in life. The Andersen story reinforces the endless advertising messages that tell a girl that she is inferior unless she is beautiful. If you accept these values, you have stepped into a world in which her husband can be expected to reject her later in life for a younger, more attractive "trophy wife."
Please join those of us who have closed our doors to the offensive message of the ugly duckling because we treasure the intrinsic merit of all children.


It begs the question.....how is this still a popular story???

Chris Rock on Running

I don't care who you plan to vote for or if you plan to vote, this is funny.

Tarpley Spotting

I spotted US WNT starter, Lindsay Tarpley, hopping onto the treadmill beside me at the gym today. You know what that means. Training camp is back on at the Home Depot Center. It officially begins on Thursday. Now you can go stalk all the players.

Bye, Bye Becks

So long farewell, auf weidersehen good-bye.

The von Trapps said it first but now it's the chant of soccer fans in L.A....but to a slightly different tune. With the announcement that David Beckham is back to Italy to join AC Milan for the summer, we bid him adieu with hopes we won't see his return.

The Galaxy, once an upstanding team in the MLS (recall when they actually brought home championships) has not made the playoffs since Beckham joined the squad. Perhaps this is a sign to those in charge that soccer, a game with 11 field players per team, is not a sport that allows for success based on two players.

Becks has what? 5 goals? 11 assists? Something of the sort....if he's supposed to be a world-class player (or even a world-class player past his prime), his arrival in the AYSO ranks of professional soccer should have seen absolute domination. But, no, no. I must be silly. He wasn't brought here to win; he was brought to sell tickets. It's the pretty face that counts. (Remember that, ladies. It will make you feel wonderful about yourself on those really bad hair days.)

Well, with that sweet little wave goodbye, we'll be praying he doesn't come back. Because if he doesn't, the Galaxy just may return to what they were before they hit pretty-boy status: a winning team.

Image Managment Needs Work with Liukin

Just a thought, but if I were in the Nastia Liukin PR camp, with all the tiny little girls who idolize her as the 2008 gold-medalist in the all-round as well as the Women's Sports Foundation's 2008 Sportswoman of the Year, I don't think I would allow her to have a guest role on "Gossip Girl." The show, rampant with sex and immorality, just doesn't say "America's Sweetheart" to me.

Just a thought.

Hotel Cafe Tour at Hotel Cafe

Read my review of the Hotel Cafe Tour (which I attended at the Hotel Cafe on Friday night) at www.iamthatgirl.com.

I Don't Even Like it but I Watch it

Have you seen "Dirty Sexy Money?" The show is in its second season....and I was intrigued enough to allow my Tivo to do the work of watching it.

I've seen every episode even though I can't tell you how many times I've seriously considered canceling my Season Pass (that's Tivo-speak, people). It's a show about a ridiculously wealthy family and how absolutely immoral they are, together and individually, as they bring their family lawyer, Nick, into their manipulative clutches. It's horrible!

But, like a magician's act, it's got you looking so many different places, it always surprises you with a turn of events (that you so should have seen) and you're engaged in the show.

How annoying.

Fun Fact

Dara Torres, 2008 Olympic team member, was the oldest American swimmer at the Olympics eight years ago.

P. Ahn

Sometime before the 2007 release of her EP, I chanced upon Priscilla Ahn's myspace page and sampled her music. After that, I eagerly awaited the EP release. I thought she was fresh and funky and sweet all at the same time and I loved her style! When the EP came out the music and the cover art (seen above) attested to my original response--she was fantastic! And with that, I began to count down until she would be officially signed and release her first album.

Now, I don't know when she was signed, but she released her first album under Blue Note Records about one month ago. I was so uber-stoked that I went out and bought the album on the day of its release! I got home, I stuck the CD in my computer (because that's how I and everyone else in America now listens to music) and prepared to rock out. I waited through the first song, which had been on the EP in a slightly better recording. I waited through the second song. And by the time I arrived at the third song (which had been one of my favorites off the EP) that had now been destroyed, I was disgusted!! I forced myself through the remaining eight songs and through the album again and again and again, hoping it would grow on me, pleading I would like it.

But such a thing would never happen. An artist who had so much potential, who has so much potential had been stomped on by a complete album. And the only hope I have left is that if she gets to release a second, it will be more like the self-released EP and not under the name of Blue Note Records.

The Nature of Victory

I am a jock. It shows in the way I dress, the shape of my body, the manner of my walk. I always have been and I may well always be an athlete. There is an innate competitive spirit that burns within me and a desire, even a conquest, to support other athletes who have been able to do what I could not—take it to the highest level. I am the girl who tears up at the end of all big tournaments out of absolute glee and utter jealousy for the winning team. I want to see an honest winner….and I find that the existence of such a thing gets harder and harder to believe in.

In the same week, the once indestructible Roger Federer lost his Wimbledon winning streak (capping out at five in a row) and Dara Torres, who had already retired, returned to the Olympic Trials to win both of her events at the age of 41 (to make her fifth Olympic swimming team). What amazing victories! That’s what I wanted to think. That’s what I wanted to believe. But, instead, I wondered…..Floyd Landis tested positive for performance enhancing drugs after an amazing and unexpected 2006 Tour de France; Marion Jones denied, denied, denied using anything until 2007, when she admitted to drug use for the previous seven years and was subsequently stripped of all earnings from that era; the “Mitchell Report” came out months later, calling into question 89 Major League Baseball players’ performances.

I had a picture of Marion Jones, torn from a magazine, among a number of other athletes in a collage that covered my door throughout college—as inspiration. “Dedicate yourself. Sacrifice for your desires. You can do it,” the collage proclaimed. And so I did. I read constantly, worked regularly, and volunteered always in order to stand out to the right grad school. But how great a sacrifice does that sacrifice become? Is there a point when the goal becomes greater than the merit of achieving the goal justly?

It’s Machiavelli all over again. “The end justifies the means. The end justifies the means.” We tell ourselves, again and again, creating a mantra by which to live. The blinders go on and the perspective goes out. Compete. Win. Want it more. It’s the battle for the athlete and the athlete’s supporter. As the athlete competes physically and defeats the odds to win, we, the spectators compete mentally for the belief in that victory. Although victory is a word we all wish to partake in, extreme victory is a phrase we glare down with doubt.

Mother of one, Dara Torres, couldn’t see the scoreboard to see if she had won the 100m freestyle but she could hear the crowd chanting her name. The audience was filled with the momentum and joy from the belief that stats like age don’t matter, even in the Olympics, if you only give it enough. Yet, we doubt and Dara must be conscious of that doubt. She has volunteered to be tested for drug enhancement more often than the other swimmers on her team. An amazing feat is met by an equally challenging swarm of public pressure and doubt: achieve then maintain perfection but we don’t believe anyone can be perfect. We support you.

How to be Stupid in the California Heat

This morning I went up to Pasadena to run an 8K race, Montrail's Run Like a Girl trail race. Now, I am no brilliant runner and no genius planner but some things I know.

I know that if it is 90 degrees out and the weather advisory for the area is "Extreme Heat" (check out the Weather Channel/ weather.com) you need to make sure your runners are hydrated. Run Like a Girl doesn't know as much.

On the 8K race course (5 miles), there was one water stop. One. It was at mile two. Then you loop around and you hit it again at mile three (when others are hitting it in the opposite direction). You go out, in heat, for 2 miles and come back in, in heat, for 2 miles without a sip of water. Extreme heat advisory. Somebody's asking for some illnesses.

And so I was. I did it. I threw up twice after the race, a race I ran at about 11-minute-miles when I am usually about an 8 minute-miler (obviously I was not pushin' it; I physically couldn't--although, when I rehydrated on the trail it did give me a short push). My time was wretched so that couldn't have been a factor. Now, keep in mind that I'm not a regurgitator. The last time I threw up was....once in Denver where I felt sick 75-80% of the time for a year....and before that I think I was about 10.

Well then, you might think I did a poor pre-race job of hydrating myself. But you'd be wrong. I drank water all night (just ask my sister with whom I share a bathroom). Hit the bathroom twice before heading to the race and another 3 times at the race location before the whistle blew to kick it off.

Twice. I, who am in decent shape though I've definitely been in better, felt horribly throughout the whole thing (with the time to prove it) and it's not even my fault. Well done, Montrail. You allowed the perfect conditions for heatstroke to reign over your race.

I did enjoy one aspect. My favorite part of the race was the band. Pretty decent band with some kickin' covers. And there they were, for all to hear, 150 yards past the finish line in a nearly empty parking lot.

If you ever plan to run Montrail's Pasadena Run Like a Girl 8K race, don't. If you neglect this stellar advice, walk it---but only so you can witness the stupidity that is its directors' planning a pace where you'll be sure not to miss a thing.

REMATCH!!!

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

Two years ago France and Italy met in the World Cup final. And after quite a fight (head-butting and red cards of the world's best player included), Italy stepped away with the victory, the trophy, and all the bragging rights for the next four years......or so they thought until they landed in the Group of Death in Euro Cup 2008. And now, they've got to fight again. Against France, again. And this time it's for everything and potentially nothing.

The way the Group of Death has developed, with France, Italy, Netherlands, and Romania, the final games could mean quite a bit. The Netherlands won their first two matches (decidedly) and have already won the group with one more day of games to go. They are therefore likely to rest many of their starters and save them for the upcoming quarterfinals. Romania stands in second with 2 points off of two ties. Tomorrow, they will play that Netherlands side--that not-quite-starters starting line-up. If the Romanians win, they'll advance along with the Netherlands.

That leaves the two last place teams, the two World Cup finalists. Undoubtedly the match will be one to watch--passionate and competitive if only due to their last big match-up. And what makes it better? France must win to have any chance to go on to the quarterfinals. Italy stands in precisely the same place. Each team holds only one point going into the match. It's kill or be killed for both teams.

But....regardless of who wins this rematch or if they tie, it's all about Romania. If Romania wins, that's the end of France and Italy.

Could it be that after tomorrow the most recent World Cup finalists will both be knocked out of the Euro Cup in the first round????

Another Orange Juice, Please

What makes the pool play stages of an international soccer tournament infinitely more exciting? Seeing the World Champions crushed in their first match, shut out, by three of course.

Perhaps at some point in the distant past you may have thought that I was a fan of Italian soccer because I have a tie to Italy through blood, but you were wrong because I am an American. And being an American means nothing if it does not mean we pick the cultures we choose to allign with and bastardize the ones we disagree with....and that these lines of allegiance may change on any given day. However, when it comes to soccer, there are two teams (and one player) I despise and the Italians are one of the lucky few. I loved the Zidane head-butt in the World Cup finals but was disappointed when Le Bleu came away without the big trophy.

I will always cheer for the team opposite the Italians but today was even better than that because the Italians were out and out SLAUGHTERED by my team, the Dutch. The Dutch play the most entertaining style of soccer and what I absolutely loved about them today was that, being up 2-0 in the second half was not reason enough for them to slow down or time waste. No, no, they attacked, attacked, attacked, getting a number of chances including one shot off the crossbar and another that went in to make the final tally 3-0. Orange crush. 3-0. Ha!

I was rather upset when I found out my Dutch boys were in the Group of Death for these Euro games along with France, Italy, and Romania. That's killer! By rank and past performance, Italy and France would be expected to make it out. But Holland leads the pack right now. Two more games in this round to go, of course. I'll be pulling for the boys in orange and for whoever is opposite the boys in blue.

Photo courtesy of Getty Images

Swing Low, Sweet Sharapova

Well, kids. It's over. Maria Sharapova, come the end of the Roland Garros French Open currently in progress, will no longer be number one.

What a run she had. From the day Justine Henin requested her name be removed from the WTA listings after her shocking retirement to the several weeks later when Sharapova lost to Safina in the Round of 16 in France---ironically, Henin's territory (the retired number one had won the last three years in a row).

Looks like the Serbs are coming in for their own reign at number one. Will it be longer than the Russian turned Californian's? I wouldn't count Sharapova out. Apparently, she read my last blog and prefers to earn her rank.

New #1

Last week, Justine Henin, the number one rockin' hardcore tennis star who is my size amidst a bunch of giants, retired. The WTA rankings have officially (and finally) acknowledged this fact and Henin is no longer listed in the rankings. The former number two, who trailed by something along the lines of 2000 points, has now claimed number one. She is none other than Maria Sharapova. And though she bugs me as a player (see any of Novak Djokovic's impressions), I fully respect her game and her new ranking. But...I wonder....

....if you gain the number one ranking by default, what is the celebration like?

Excitement? I'm sure. A party? Eh, the training appropriate type. But it cannot be the same as if she had earned it. And, in saying that, if it has come off sounding like I mean that she did not exactly earn it, it's true. She didn't. Granted, she was playing better than Henin. She earned second place and first place quit. Have you ever gotten second place in a contest, athletic, scholastic, or otherwise, and then had the first place person resign from the competition? That person was better than you and yet you end up walking out with the first place title and a second place feeling.

Sharapova has to feel ecstatic and displeased. She's a competitor. She has a drive that says she wants to earn it. She wants to work for it and receive credit when credit is due. Does she deserve the credit yet? Frankly, it doesn't matter. She's got it.