I'm still alive - no longer hiding from the terror of Thanksgiving dinner - nor all the unrelated bull I've been dealing with. I've had many good things goign on - just haven't wanted to writ ethem down. Since getting screwed over by my former dojo for what I write here, I've been kinda reluctant to share anything. If they want to be pricks, it's none of their business what I'm doing. Sucks knowing that they have a window into my world. But more on that later...
My oldest son turned 4 last week . We had a small party for him, with only family invited.
One thing that sucks about having a December birthday is that it's usually too cold to put up my moonwalk. The party was small, but pleasant.
My son's Father turned 36 today! Sure don't feel like it. I still feel like a 16 year old, wondering who that old guy is who looks back at me from the mirror. 36. That's supposed to be ancient, isn't it? Had a decent day though. My mom asked what I wanted, and I figured PJ's was a save request. I told her that I would like 3 pair, and knew where I could get the kind I wanted for about $15 a pair. (I then ordered 3 black kung fu uniforms, just like the one that I already use for PJ's)! It's light, but warm - comfortable, and somewhat stylish, in a Jackie Chan sorta way.
For dinner , I got my pick. Ended up settling on Old Country Buffet, cause we had a few $1 off coupons, and did we ever hit the jackpot there tonight! Turns out tonight was their "christmas night". They had a DJ playing Xmas music, a Santa Claus, a clown doing balloon animals, and 2 costumed mascots. We all got up and danced the chicken dance, and had a great time. Unfortunately, we missed Santa Cow at Chickfila tonight, but he's supposed to be there on Saturday too.
THINGS I NEED TO DO:
I was contacted by 2 book publishing companies, and asked to review a book each , and write a review on my site. I have taken forever to get thru these books, and will post the promised reviews shortly.
Also, (I'll give this one it's own post), I was contacted by a comapny that created personalized books for kids. I was given the chance to review their product, and write about it here as well. Soon as I dig out her email, so I add hyperlinks to her site, I'll get that served up as well.
And to the reporter from the LA TIMES, just send me an email. I'm hard as hell to contact by phone.
Now, about this dojo shit. I've been holding back saying anything - I know that this blog is a one way feed right to them. I hate to say anythign bad - and wish no ill will - but I got shit on, and I'm not happy about it. Having decided not to return, now I got nothing to lose in sharing.
For months, I kept a martial arts blog. I kept identities annonimous, never used real (if any) names, and vented when people pissed me off in class. And did they ever. Started off with one old fucker who wanted everyone to kiss his ass. Lonely old bastard who is supposed to have money, and has offered just about everyone there a job. Guess that's one way to get everyone feeling subservient to you. This asshole joins forces with a midget kiss ass, and they start to play school yard games at the dojo. They'd arrange so that I ended up with no partner during class. Word of my blog spreads, and soon almost everyone was giving me the cold shoulder. Giggling while they walked past me - sitting in a group far away from me - like I was being shunned. Of course, no one ever had the balls to say anything to me. That would have been too adult. Even though no one wanted to discuss why I was being treated like shit, there finally came a turning point when it all started to work itself out. I learned to deal with the assholes, and some of my shunners opened up to work with me (not TALK to me, just partner with me). Things were returnign to an acceptable level. Although, ther ewere still times in class where I'd end up sitting on the side writing things down in a notebook, cause I couldn't get a partner to grab my wrist.
Decided to light a fire under the dimwhitted duo's ass, and suggested that they were gay (on my blog). This caught the attention of the owner, a self proclaimed "free speech liberitarian", who booted me out of the dojo for a month, while seeking legal advisment of whether or not I was a liability to the dojo. After my emails we ignored, I wrote a post on this blog, and finally got a response. After a month of being booted, I was told that I could come back, but it was up to me to work things out with everyone. Mind you, I'm not kissing anyones ass. Not when I wasn't in the wrong. I'm not above saying sorry if I offended anyone, and for writing what I did. At least I would have if they'd have talked to me, instead of acting like fucking children. Even people I never said anything about coped attitude. And then to find out that the owner was pissed about an entry where I said mean things about his wife - after she BIT me during practice.
So, I decided screw it. What's the use of my having to kiss people asses and make them feel happy and "safe", when I'm paying just as much to be there as they are? And if anyone should be feeling "not safe", it's me. Shit going on behind my back - everyone grouping against me - people bringing guns into the locker room. At one point, I considered packing myself to go to practice, for fear of being the only idiot who brought a knife to a gun fight, so to speak.
While I'm flattered by the whole "They sense the dark side in you" thingy - but it's just not worth it. I get to go to dojo as a hobby, for fun, to relieve stress, and to get out of the house for a while. What's the use of going somewhere that was causing me more stress that my kids are? I met some really worthwhile people there. Nice people and nice martial artists. Hope they know who they are, and understand my telling my feelings about my experience, and that it has nothing to do with them. Shame how a few bad seeds can ruin the barrel. But on the good foot, I get to keep my rank! Hurray - I'm still a friggin white belt! And a member of an organization with no other instructor around. And no onther way to progress in rank other than to go somewhere else and start all over again. Whoopty shit.