A Derby Recap!

(This was a test article I wrote for a local magazine, which I now am totally a writer for.)

Happy Valley Derby Darlins Bid Adieu to 2012 Season with Final Bout
(rebeccasfrost@gmail.com)

No matter which league you skate with or represent, when there is another bout, you do your best to attend. You cheer for the other league, even if they have kicked your ass a few times. You scream plays they should have attempted instead of that mess of a jam, you pound on the floor with your hands (assuming you’re on the ground in suicide seating right against the track) cheering for a fallen skater to get up faster, and you definitely feel for the losing team. Roller derby requires support. Roller derby is a sisterhood. I’m not a very good sister, because this was my first bout at the Roller Hive in Spanish Fork, and how I wish I had come out more often to support the Happy Valley Derby Darlins because damn, they put on a good show.

The Roller Hive is a proper name for the Food-4-Less that hosts these girls, as the excitement buzzing through the building is felt from the parking lot. I felt a small thrill walking into the building. The trip from Salt Lake City to Spanish Fork was much like a pilgrimage. I travelled for what felt like days (only an hour) to pay respect to this sport I so worship. Everyone in the building, from players to referees, to spectators, gathered for the same reason: to watch some roller derby! I felt excited, as I always do on bout day, to be a part of this cult on wheels.

It was the final bout of the 2012 season for the Happy Valley Derby Darlins, and fighting for victory were two of the three teams that make up Happy Valley: the Rollin’ Rebellion and the Sirens of Steel. It was also night for celebration. Girls from each team were celebrating birthdays (Chiquita Wambamya of the Rollin’ Rebellion and Shimmy Sham of the Sirens of Steel) as was one of the referees (Scars Tupruvit). After the National Anthem, sung beautifully by Chiquita Wabamya, blurs of purple from the Rollin’ Rebellion and shades of orange from Sirens of Steel flew around the track during team introductions. The audience chuckled with the announcement of player names (it is requisite that a skater come up with a name for her or himself, something funny or designed to instill terror in opposing players).  To show respect for their challengers, the Sirens of Steel wore purple socks. Rollin’ Rebellion…also wore purple socks. Still have to keep some pride.

The first couple of jams are always the most difficult. The jams are clumsy. Skaters are trying to find their groove. The first minutes of the game proved no differently. Some skaters fumbled while jammers easily broke through uncoordinated packs. The second jam included a no-lead-jammer situation. In derby, the first jammer to break through the pack has the power to call off the jam. Hyp-knock-it Therapy from the Rollin’ Rebellion broke through first, but was sent to the penalty box. The Sirens jammer was then forced to skate for the whole two minutes, getting knocked down, getting back up, then trying again. If there was one consistent thing I noticed about the Rollin’ Rebellion, they built some excellent walls, making it extremely difficult for an orange player to break through.

After the breaking in the first couple of jams, skaters started to find their way. The Sirens of Steel utilized a defensive jamming technique I always get excited watching. When the jammers are released to attempt their first pass through the pack, one jammer will act as a blocker and hit and block her opposing jammer. It was a reminder that the jammer can do more than just pray she would make it by four other girls without incident. The Sirens used this maneuver several times, gaining a few feet and usually earning lead jammer status.

The Rollin’ Rebellion also worked their pivot. The pivot is the only other girl on a team who wears a panty on her helmet with a bold stripe down the middle. She is the last line of defense. She is usually in charge. Whenever Lady Hipcracker wore the pivot panty, she put it to good use. She skated in front, waiting like a cougar for the Sirens jammer, and would attack her, defending her team.

New skater, Devastator Cookie, received lead jammer status for the Rebellion and the opposing jammer was sitting in the box. The announcer exclaimed, “Power jam!” and cheers swelled. Devastator Cookie had the opportunity to skate as hard as she could to earn points while her opponent was incapacitated. This happened a few times during the night with different players, and the look on their faces when they finally decide to call off the jam when the opponent is released from the box is priceless. It’s a look of “Finally, I can stop skating for a minute.” Fellow skaters in the crowd smile and empathize with, “I know girl, that shit is exhausting.”

Jammers from the Rollin’ Rebellion Chiquita Wabamya, Kicking Assets, Hyp-knock-it Therapy racked up the most points for their team while Madeye, Bam to the Bone and Acid Burn made their Sirens proud. The final minutes of the bout were polar opposite of the opening jams. Skaters were in the zone. Others were suddenly impossible to knock down and skaters suddenly had the grace of ballerinas. Hyp-knock-it Therapy gained enough points to bring the Rollin Rebellion score close to the Sirens of Steel. Ultimately, points earned by Madeye in the previous jam brought the Sirens to victory, closing the game at 92 to 106.

For the final game of the Happy Valley Derby Darlins 2012 season, it was worth the drive. The league has made the WFTDA’s (Women’s Flat Track Derby Association) list of apprentice leagues, putting them on the path for competitions and, from the looks of it, glory. Unfortunately, Saturday’s bout was the last bout to be had in this Food-4-Less, and it is unclear where the girls will travel to next to continue their Happy Valley reign. I will travel for them, because derby girls are in this sport together and we do anything for each other, including driving south on I-15 through Utah Valley. Like I said, anything. 

Divine Comedy

The Universe has decided this is the time in my life to throw all it's one-liners at me.

I've been noticing the cosmic humor in every little thing I come across, every action I take, and everything that happens to me.

The Universe thought my life wasn't interesting enough, so right when wheels actually start turning it pokes it's head in and says, "Hey, how about this?"

Good one, Universe. I'll go along with it. You are too funny.

Truth though, boyfriend and I are moving in together! In an apartment! With not enough kitchen cabinets! We have too much stuff! It is small. Like, uber small. The building always smells like Indian food and it's wonderfully diverse.

I'm having mondo anxiety. Crazy anxiety. All of the anxiety.

Here goes...

Remember This Post

Remember this post.

This is a moment before the time you become an actual writer for an actual magazine.

This is a moment before you grow up for real.

This is a moment after you were the most stressed you've ever been.

This is a moment in which you have friends who support you.

This is a moment where you are a good student.

In this moment, you are your own person and damn girl, you're getting what's yours.

I'm so proud of myself right now. I'm also incredibly exhausted.

Oh Crap

Hey, Rebecca, remember how you had this dream when you were a teenager? The dream where you were a writer, a media figure, and all-around cool person?

Then suddenly, one day a few million years later, you finally got off your ass and did something about it?

I start tomorrow.

I can be as vague as I want. It's my blog. So, suck on that.

A Few Differences

A Few Differences is a song by the band Athlete. It's also the title I gave to a one act play I wrote in high school.

It's happening again. My past has returned to haunt me.

Not that it's entirely a bad thing. Sometimes I need the reminder, "this is what shaped you into what you are today. These are the people who guided you into being you." It sucks, because I want to forget about some parts of my history so badly.

Why, though? It wasn't even awful. Remembering things makes me ache. I don't understand why I wish I could forget about everything. I have to be reminded. I need to remember those who were my friends. I have to remember that I was kind of a bitch and left people behind and I should suffer the consequences of remembering.

I wish I wouldn't have dreams about my exes. Not exes, just ex I guess. I wish I wouldn't have panic attacks when I think about the possibility of running into an ex or an old friend. I wish I would have behaved differently.

But I'm too stubborn to change anything about it now. Instead I'll continue trying to focus on the present, because that's all I have.

Funny Asshole

Something happened to me today. Something I didn't know I was waiting my whole life to hear.

I was kickin' it with my podcast girls, guesting on Grumble Mountain's podcast on UtahFM. Grumble Mountain is a podcast done by three comedians. Comedians. Three of them. Whenever I'm in the same room as a "professional" comedian, I get sweaty and intimidated. I feel pressure to be funny. Not try-too-hard funny, but just right, casual funny. It's a very stressful situation.

About halfway through recording, one of the girls turns to me and says, "I wish I was as funny as you, Joss."

I wish I was as funny as you.

I wish I was as funny as you.

I wish I was as funny as you.

Holy balls, I didn't know I was looking for that kind of validation. Me? Rebecca? A lady? Funny? So funny, apparently, someone wishes for my wit?

I admire the shit out of female comedians. I long to be one sometimes. Only sometimes, I don't have the dedication to be funny 110% of the time. So, for someone to acknowledge that I am indeed funny, stirs strange emotions within me. Emotions like validation and giddiness. Also though, I'm going to feel like I'm in the room with another comedian all the time. Don't be too funny, Rebecca. Just casual funny.

But I'm doing this dance on the inside.

You're a douche. Let's be friends.

What is it about douche bags that keeps me hanging on so tightly? When I was younger, I had a friend who I thought was the coolest guy. He was funny, knew things I didn't know, liked movies, kept up conversation for hours. Now, as an adult, I realize we was a total asshole. A huge douche bag. I made an effort recently to reconnect with him. I sent him a text, trying to strike up conversation. True to enigma fashion, he would only respond with one word texts. Short, brief, texts. "Meh," I said, letting it go, moving on with my life and accepting that sometimes, things never change. That night, at one in the morning, tried to start conversation. Like he always used to. Still a huge douche. No, some things never change.

But in the back of my mind, I'm still desperate to talk to him. I still want him to want to have conversation with me. Please tell me more about your super awesome job and how you are so much cooler than I. School me in the ways of philosophy and John Cusack movies.

I have a new douchey friend. He only talks about himself, conversation is always one-sided. Film is his fine wine. The holier-than-thou stench travels through the internet and through my speakers. I get so pissed off during our conversations I literally have the thought process, "how do I tell him he's an asshole? Do I just say it or should I subtly say, 'hey I have a douchey friend, how should I let him know?'"

Conversation ends and...I'm still thinking about him. I'm thinking "wow that guy is an asshole" with a subcontext of "maybe I can get him to change his douche-ways." Maybe I can give him a My Fair Lady treatment and release him into the wild, ready for the ladies.

Is that not the reason girls go for the asshole? Because maybe we can be the one girl who changes him? Why is it so difficult to find not just a guy, but anyone who isn't a total asshole to some degree? I know plenty of girls who are douches in their own right. "Don't get that beer. It's only good in California." I don't need more granola-people telling me that organic is the only food they'll eat, or that biking is the only way they'll get around. I don't need your 'tudes. But goddammit do I eat it up and find myself begging for more.