Ronda Rousey (dot net!)

I’m not going to be naming certain a obese referee from Rhode Island or anything, but there have been quite a few people who have been lying about my mom. Since I love my mother dearly, and vying for “judo political” favor has never been a priority of mine, I feel compelled to defend her.

One of the many admirable things my mother does, is pay for all of her judo related travel herself, and then writes it off on her taxes. If anyone says anything otherwise, you have my permission to tell them you have it on good authority they’re a g**damn liar - and ask them why they’re such a lying liar, and what THEIR mother would think about them lying about someone else’s mother.

I’m not trying to float my family’s boat, but my mom started a multi million dollar consulting company from scratch, and is the senior statistical consultant at USC. That means if all the professors at the University of California don’t know the answer to a statistics problem, they go to my mom to answer it. My step dad, who most people call my “alleged step father” (because he hates sports and doesn’t like going to judo tournaments) is a friggin’ rocket scientist.
So you know the saying “Shut up, you full of it, you’re no rocket scientist.” In his case, he IS a rocket scientist. And he’s right, you’re wrong, much dumber, and probably paid less.

Now I haven’t taken a penny from them since the day I’ve turned 18, but the point I’m getting at is they are in no way hurting for cash. The whole idea that my mom would steal money from a non-profit judo organization is ridiculous and insulting. Its like Wynona Ryder shoplifting stupid.

I don’t know if this whole USJA election thing is the talk of the town or not (but it sure is the talk of the house-hold, cause my mom won’t shut up about it. And even after moving to a different house THOUSANDS of miles away - big jim won’t shut up about it!) But I gotta put my stamp of approval on my mom’s slate running. You can see all the people on the slate at newusja.org
Even if you don’t know everyone on there, vote for them anyway, cause the good guys (my mom and big jim’s team) need majority on the board if they’re gunna get any real work done. And no, I’m not just endorsing the slate my mom and coach are on it, but because they’re actually trying to do a positive thing and change judo in the US for the better. I know this for sure because she’s a compulsive over achiever and is trying to get results and make a difference.

So there is my political 2 cents, I don’t like writing about this kind of stuff much cause paying attention to old people arguments is usually as exciting as watch flies f**k.

But my mother specifically asked me to write my opinion on what’s going on, so there you go.

As far as training goes everything seems to be going as good as could be expected. Which is:

I have not died, thrown up, or thrown up while dying. No combination of the two has happened.
Big jim has not threatened to kill me, my dog, or any combination of the two.
But my poor puppy did burn her feet on the road while running, so she got half the week off… that lucky bitch… hey I can say bitch! She’s a female dog –duh!

What I really need is some ass… and by that I mean donkeys!!
How cool would it be to have a herd of ass?! I’d gaily happy! Wouldn’t you be gay upon receiving some ass?
HAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAAHA!!!!! okay the whole swearing without swearing thing is starting to lose its novelty.

Oh come on, stop being so stuck up, its funny! If you’re some young girl’s parent that’s reading this, I would say sorry, but TECHNICALLY I’m not swearing.

So anyway, the other day I get out of bed around 9ish to big jim blasting the beach boys while mulching his new flower garden (yup, big jim’s got a flower garden! That old softy!)
I ran outside singing when “California Girls” came on, and he immediately starts yelling at me. “You’re smiling now kid! Get your stuff on, you won’t be so cheery after this workout!”
And I’m like, “Jim! When I’m moping around while working out, you chew me out for being unappreciative of the best years of my life. But when I’m in a good mood you yell at me and make the workouts harder. Could you please tell me which emotions I’m allowed to have, so I can ‘emote’ to your specifications??”

All he had to say to that was “THAT’S FOR ME TO KNOW!! Put ya sneakas on kid!”

Then after circuit lifting he sends me off on a two mile run - the mile back I have to alternate between jogging and sprinting, and then he has me do more sprints in front of the house when I get back.

Upon returning I see him and the guys doing construction work across the street talking to each other. But all I can make out is “SURE JUST LET ME KNOW WHEN YOU WANT ME TO SEND HER OVA TO DO SOME WORK!!”

Before I have a second to tell him not rent me out for manual labor, it’s time for more sprints. While doing them in front of the house, we measure distances by telephone poles. So he usually shouts something like “Sprint two!!….walk one!!…sprint one!!” and I run accordingly. Well apparently the construction guys found this amusing cause they started shouting, “Sprint six!! Walk two!! Sprint eleven!!!”

Its all veeeerry funny when you’re not the one running…. Okay well when telling it later while well fed and in bed - it is kinda amusing.

Well fed and in bed… sounds like my new motto after this next Olympics.

But aaaanyways, on a completely different note; Ayumi Tanimoto, the Olympic champ at 63kg is visiting the USA and staying at the team FORCE house this month, while off on her knee injury. She’s has been very supe-ya cooxl - she even brought the ink and brushes the team FORCE girls how to write a couple words in conji (or however you spell it – I failed “spelling foreign words in english” in school) though hers looked much much better than ours.

and look she even made one that said mochi!

(author’s note: I just heard one of my dog’s silent, deadly, whisper farts - and am so grossed out by the gag inducing smell to come that I had to share that fact)

ugh…. Gross… I think I’m starting to develop the purplish rash of the bubonic plague INSIDE my nose its so bad… can’t they invent anti-flatulence dog food?

Currently reading: World Without End – Ken Follett
Currently listening to: Surf Wax America –Weezer

Okay I’m not actually sore to the point of amnesia, but I was aiming for dramatic. I started training with big jim up in his cabin in new Hampshire two days ago. I can tell he’s taking it easy on me right now, but I’m not gunna lie and say projectile vomiting didn’t enter my mind in the middle of the first workout.
Even Mochi (my dog) is sore, I could tell cause I had to drag her with the leash over my shoulder during sprints on the 2nd day of training.

I haven’t written in a while because me and my friend Lillie drove cross country from LA to Boston over 6 days. It was the most legendary series of misadventures ever. And we even took notes so we both could write about it. She’s e-mailing the notes to me, so the road trippin’ blogs are coming later.

As you could have guessed, the “on the road” diet was far from ideal. Mostly consisting of what we could buy from gas stations, and what we could order at truck stops at 3am. (though im not gunna lie and say the French toast and huevos rancheros weren’t g**damn delicious) In fact I’m pretty sure that during the first workout I saw a couple chunks of beef jerky coming out of my pores.
I’m serious, if Homer simpson came along and licked my arm he would have been like “Mmmm… beef jerky extract…”
and nooo, I didn’t mean that in a sick way, just a I-ate-too-much-beef-jerky-way.

I have no idea how truckers do it. I’ve had to start eating to amount of fiber blended into an old folks home’s cafeteria food to return my digestive system to its normal level of efficiency.

You know what’s funny, I’m reading this book that involves the bubonic plague; fell asleep reading it, and then dreamed about running away from diseased zombies. Well that doesn’t sound too funny until you get to the part where we all caught the disease by eating infected cold cut sandwiches. And the only way I could cure myself was by overdosing myself with the germs - which were contained in a bottle of bath and body works perfume scented like warm vanilla sugar.

I hope my ex boyfriend (or as I like to call him my “Sexy Exy”) doesn’t find and read this blog. I only mentioned in in passing weeks ago, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t stick. But I can’t guarentee her won’t internet stalk me and find it. Which I can’t really say I’ve never done to any of my exes. >_<
I kind of resent coming back to boston a little bit, because I had to break up with him to do it. I mean, if you’ve read this blog for any length of time, you’re aware that half of what I write is complaints about being single. Ugh… it just pisses me off. But whatever, not to be vain, but I consider myself to be a highly adaptable person. So I guess I’ll just have to adapt again.

“adapt and overcome”

I try to write that quote everywhere. Even if I forgot where it came from, it’s still very inspiring to me.

What kind of sucked about practice yesterday was I was totally pumped to back on the same mat where I’ve fought on-and-off since I was 16. But I got the distict impression my teammates were not too happy about the outcome of the world championships - Mostly because they were either grumpy, not that talkative, flying home, or eating ice cream. Well I hope everyone’s morale picks up sooner rather than later, cause I can tell when big jim has that “I’m gunna make you train so hard, that you won’t be able to move until Dorothy and the scarecrow come along with an oil can” look in his eyes. And some team spirit would definitely help.

What I plan to do different

Bruce Toups, one of my mother’s main sponsors during her judo career, told me something extremely intelligent today (though it came out in a slow paced southern accent, I was patient enough to listen to the whole thing)

First you get into a routine,
Next you get into a rut.
Then you start to resent,
And last you begin to withdrawal.

Any serious athlete knows there are some periods you go through where you’re just sick and tired of being sore and tired. You could have superhuman motivation, but some days your fatigue (and not just physical, mostly mental I think) outweighs your self-discipline, and the last thing you want to do is ANYTHING that requires effort. A good song to some up that feeling is “Burritos” by Sublime.

So what I’d like to different this time around - and I don’t know if Big Jim will be down for this - but you know how gyms give you a guest card with 5 or so passes on it to bring your friends? Well I wanna see if he’ll give me a “Screw practice today” card with, I dunno, 7 credits or so on it. So if it’s one of those days when I’d rather lick the handrails in a New York subway than go to practice, I can whip out the card and bail. If I could get one of those cards a year… I would do a little dance! Fortunately Big Jim has no idea what the internet is, and most likely still communicates by carrier pigeon – so I know he won’t read this. If anyone has any good ideas on how to break this concept to him, please let me know.

Currently Reading: The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
Currently Listening To: King Without A Crown (live at Stub’s) by Matisyahu

So I was at my mom’s house playing Zelda Ocarina of Time on Dennis’ wii (for a time period much longer than I would like to admit). And I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but after this Olympics I’ve had my mind set on getting into some kind of ocean search and rescue program; for either the Coast guard or Los Angeles Lifeguard Dpt. I met some gentlemen from the Coast Guard judo club while teaching a clinic in San Fransisco and they’d said they’d try to get me a tour.
Anyways, the phone rings while I’m in mid-zelda-mode – it was the coast guard guys saying that they’re trying to get me a tour of the base and in to do the swimming workout with the search and rescue people. At first I’m freaking out cause it’s a really exciting opportunity, but then I realize that - besides surfing - I haven’t gone swimming for an organized workout, since I was 17!
After considering this fact, I set out on a mission to go swimming as much as possible until then. The first necessity of this mission is to find a onepiece swimsuit. I looke all over my mom’s place and found nothing but bikinis - and I couldn’t be swimming laps in a bikini for the coast guard; I dunno that just sounds like the kind of thing that would be extremely frowned upon. So I ran out of the house, locked the door, and was off to Ross (dress for less!). I had to throw a couple things in my trunk and –
…
where are my?
CRAP!!!!
In case you haven’t guessed by now, I locked my keys in my trunk, while locked out of my mom’s house, with my spare keys locked in my Venice apartment 5 miles away, with my licensed to drive family members all in St. Louis, at 2pm in 90 degree weather, and wearing jeans. My only comfort was that mochi was sitting next to me, leash in hand, and not – god forbid- locked in the car too.

So the mission of the day slightly changed from a venture to Ross (dress for less!), to a Santa Monica -> Venice Hike ( I know I’m making it really dramatic, its just I’m a huge wuss when it comes to walking)

Via starbucks of course (my new obsession is a Venti Sweetened and Shaken Passion Iced Tea – god! I feel more refreshed just typing it!!)

Since Mochi burned her paws the last time we went on a long hike, (see previous blog entitled “And then I fell off a cliff”) I was trying to take the side streets and walk through parks – which is apparently impossible, these parks are like friggin labyrinths! Why is it necessary to have so many damn locked fences at 3 o’clock in the afternoon? Needless to say, me and Mochi were taking the long way there.

At sometime past four (I left at 2), surfer guy calls me up after getting off of work and offers to pick me up. He then came to my rescue and later drove me back to my place – okay, muuuch later, there were a few Coldstone’s Creamery and blockbuster distractions that could absolutely not be avoided.
Eventually I got dropped off at my place, and pulled the screen off an open window to break into my own apartment with the greatest of ease - and without anyone passing by looking twice. THAT’S WHY I HAVE A HUGE MEAN LOOKIN DOG!! What if I was a psycho serial killer?! At least ten people must have passed by without saying a word (But a logical explanation could be, I can’t say that the sight of legs dangling out my window after locking my keys in for the 1000th time is uncommon).
After unlocking the door and fixing my blinds, I realize my apartment has been taken over by a brigade of flies in my absence. I didn’t have any newspaper or anything to throw at them, so I started throwing DVD cases at them – which was surprisingly effective! Though I’m not sure if any onlooker that could have seen me break into the apartment, and start throwing dvds at the walls would agree.
With many of the flies still alive and buzzing I was looking around in my bathroom and found a big ol’ f*** off spider - Like as big as a quarter- sitting on my sink with what I would imagine was a big ol’ smile on his big ol’ spider face.
So I then resolved to herd all the flies into the bathroom and let the spiderzilla take care of the problem. So presently I’m lying on my bed, typing this and waiting for that little ecosystem to play itself out – its gunna be a little gross the next time I have to go in there to pee… but that problem will have to be dealt with when it comes.

And now its time for some pb&j.

i have officially ripped the crotch in my top 5 favourite jeans (and yes i did spell favourite with a “U”, i’m feeling particularly Bri’ish today). Do they make a patch for this problem? Does anyone have any idea what a crotch patch would be shaped like? A clover?
+ =??
No? doesn’t look likely? well I’ll try anyway and see if this plan turns out how envisioned

Ya know, the other day I was on the phone with my cousin, Sam - and like anyone who has any extended contact with their family, the occasional clashes are inevitable (or, if you’re kim jong il, inevitabur!)
So we got into some argument over something or other while driving down to pick up my mochi from her breeders in San Diego. After about a half hour of silent treatment (literally complete silence, we were in the LA/San Diego funk zone where there is no radio) I exclaim:
“Dude, something smells like earth worms!”
she goes “I smell cake batter!”
“How the hell do you smell cake batter?”
“What the f*** do earth worms smell like?!?”
of course we started busting up laughing (and in my case swerving the car as well) and to this day we still have no idea what we were arguing about in the first place.

Moral of the story… well I dunno…i guess its just not worth the energy trying to stay mad at family… and that the Irish might be the only people capable of healing my jeans….

I’m baaaaaack!! It’s been the most amazing year off, and can’t even begin to count the ways!
Learn how to bartend – check!
Learn how to surf – check!
Find a man who’s not a complete loser – check!
Go skydiving – (july 9th I’m going)
Go on a date up in the mountains and fall off a cliff – check!

Okay I didn’t write the last one before achieving it, but nonetheless, it added to a long list of adventures this year. I mean what better ending to any story is there than “And then I fell off a cliff”? Even if it’s the most boring, lame, Ben Stein kind of story: “I had to pay some bills today, stopped by home depot…. And then I fell off a cliff” Lol sorry but I’ve been saying that all day, I can’t say “And then I fell off a cliff” and not smile***. It just goes into that smiley word category along with “projectile vomit”

***this is only true if the person falliing off the cliff is either
A) Just fine when they’re telling you the story
B) A total prick
C) Kayla Harrison (Hahaha just kidding!… kinda…
D) Works for Parking enforcement. I mean really! You must just KNOW you’re an @$$hole if you hand out parking “violations” all day. I mean real?ly! A “VIOLATION?!” because I was parked in front of my own home at 8am on a wednesday? No, that’s called a mother effin parking “whoopsee” - that’s called a poverty tax for those who can’t afford houses with garages. You can call it a violation if I park my car on your first born son!

(note to self: add Hijack and vandalise parking violation car to bucket list. I can’t be the only one that envisions shooting nerf darts at those jerks in their little modified golf carts.)

Anyway, sorry, tangent averted. So anyway how the evening went is this guy, lets call him surfer guy (he taught me how to surf, well… he didn’t really teach me he gave me a board and told me to figure it out) is trying to quit smoking. So to keep from going nuts he took me with him on a ten mile hike (okay maybe ten is a little bit of an exaggeration, but its my story and I want it to be on as grand a scale as possible.) through the mountain over Malibu. Sounds romantic right? Did I mention 90% of this hike was – big surprise- up a friggin’ mountain!?! Also this is not even 12 hours after doing an uphill sprints workout the night before.
And here’s one thing they don’t tell you about these mountains, they’re like 90 degrees and COVERED in bees!!
And no, I’m not just trying to be funny quoting eddie izzard, it really was covered in bees – and really sharp things. Who knew nature was so damn pointy?!
And then it was so hot outside that my dog, mochi, burned off the bottom of her feet, as did surfer guy’s dog. So both dogs are limping around, and I’m completely exhausted and trying not to look like it. While looking at the view over LA surfer guy suggests just climbing back up again later in the evening to watch fireworks and bring up some food and tequila and chill instead of going to some party.
My first thought of course is “Ooh lala! How romantic watching fireworks over LA in the Malibu mountains!” forgetting of course that this plan requires taking a second trip up a mountain, on a day where I was already waaay past my quota for enjoyable trips I could take up steep inclines in 48 hours… and how do I come DOWN a mountain after having a pretty serious business exchange with a tequila bottle?
It was actually very fun and worth the effort, but I guess right before we got back to the car I was dancing along the ledge and fell off the most jagged and treacherous cliff ever!
I tumbled down 5,000 feet and got impaled by the horns of an ibex before landing at the bottom and getting attacked by a snow leopard!!! (Okay, I might be exaggerating a little bit.. since those animals only live in the Himalayas) landing face first in a bunch of gravel. Of course I tried to get up – failed – and got to experience even more of the mountain face.

Mostly true story there.

Poor mochi is hobbling around like and old lady. After returning from the West Coast Training Center practice this afternoon she flat refused to walk back to the apartment from the Fonda (my car’s name). So then my neighbors – who probably know me as the crazy white girl that lives in the building (I stick out like a sore thumb in my neighborhood), saw me walking around with a 75 lb huge white dog slung over my shoulder while giggling and talking to it. You guys won’t believe how huge she got, lets see if I can find a picture. Anywho, I probably don’t have that many people reading anymore after taking so much time off, but I guess that’s kind of what I wanted; to take a step away from all the attention I was getting through judo. But now that time’s up sooo LOOOOK AT ME!!!!

(btw I’m not a narcissist, that was just a bad joke)

Oh and as a side note I had to quit being vegan after 8 months on the wagon. I caught bronchitis and my mom convinced me to go back to regular food until I started feeling better - and then by the time I was, it was time to start training again. I talked to big jim about it and he is very anti-vegan and told me to go back to eating the diet they had me on while training and I can give veganism another try after the next olympics. Sorry guys! I tried! (but hey at least I earned around $200 in bets, no one thought I’d even get through the first week, too bad no one will ever pay up :-/….)

To answer the same question I’m getting over and over and over, yes I am going back to competition. I move back to boston and start training/competing full time again some time in august. So lets everyone chiiiiill out.
I haven’t been writing in my blog lately plainly because I haven’t felt the least bit compelled to. Granted plenty of funny things have happened that made me think
“Oh I should write a blog about that!!” at the time, but of course I’d forget whatever it was and lose the urge to write all together.
Besides I was tired of getting crap over the stuff I was writing about. Yeah I really don’t care about what most of the nay-sayers think - but it can be pretty draining having to have the same conversations, give the same explanations, and have to defend myself, over and over and over again.
Also the blog was turing into more of a monster than I ever intended it to. It went from an effective way of letter writing, to a large part of what I was known for. I guess I also stopped because I saw myself going from “Oh ronda, she’s that blonde girl that likes science and art” to “She’s that girl that does karate or whatever” to “She’s that olympic judo girl” to “She’s that judo girl with the blog” ….. and I was sitting around and thinking… I miss that cute blonde kid that liked science and art….
There’s times when I can tell everyone in my family wished I never did judo at all….well maybe everyone except for julia…. But then I catch myself wishing I could go back to training now. But I know I’m not ready for the 2012 push yet, and I have certain responsibilities to people and leases that i can’t break…. and its cold there right now.

My dog is such a cold wuss, she shivers when she gets out of the bathtub…. she’s gunna HATE boston. But you’ll have to admit looking at a big tough breed like her wearing a christmas sweater would be pretty funny.

So i was at lunch with my cousin sam, and she was lamenting about people she knows from missouri (pronounced MIZZ-UR-EE, there is no “A” in there people! the next person i hear say “mizzurah” is getting punted in the throat) were complaining about Obama winning the presidency saying, “He might be president of the United States, but he’s not MY president!” What the flying douche-gunt is that supposed to mean?!
“MY” president? ANYONE could be YOUR president, so i grabbed the waitress and told her she’s my president now (she seemed very thrilled, but she was working for tips, so who knows). My mom has our bird kenny on her shoulder, I’ll ask her if he’s President Kenny now….

Dide anyone ever notice how much john mccain looks like the evil emporor palpatine from star wars?! it’s friggin’ uncanny! check it out:

Besides the usual oh-what-a-coincidence-republicans-look-like-super-villains epiphanies, there’s not much going on here. I’ve pretty much spent all day playing old-school n64 games on the wii and memorizing drink recipes - and though i haven’t really read that much sociology, i was playing wii while it was next to me on the coach (hoping maybe SOME of the information soaked in via osmosis).
I got class tomorrow, i’ll let you know if it worked…

You know I worked all day Monday…Tuesday I got my first car and started taking college classes again… and Wednesday I had off.
So I drove to my favorite hole-in-the-wall Mexican food joint, got myself a burrito filled with vegan brilliance, and then drove to the beach. Parked at this little spot that overlooked the ocean and started munching…
And when I start munching, I start thinking…

I was thinking about the happiest times in my life, which was while living in Santa Monica at the end of 2006 – and while living in Santa Monica the last two months.
I wasn’t training or competing seriously during either of these times…
Also, I haven’t been looking at any judo forums, but it’s come to my attention that there is a handful of people trash talking me. Which I should have expected, I mean, when a person succeeds the people around them wait for them to screw up. I guess its no fun when they don’t screw up, so it’s more entertaining to invent rumors – which seems like the best explanation for the situation.
I haven’t taken the time to read the anonymous slander, because luckily I’m pretty removed from that old crowd at the moment. I never realized how much of a luxury it is to be able to choose your own company. But yesterday after my peaceful beach-burrito session, I got to celebrate my newfound mobility and drive my Fonda (yes, that is my car’s name. just so we can say “Ronda’s Honda, Fonda”) up to Simi Valley to see the Mendezes and play RockBand World Tour on ps3 till the onset of carpal tunnel.
Walter just got surgery on his wrist that day and was playing guitar.
I could elaborate on how well thought out that decision was, but it must be pretty obvious.
He insisted it was fine cause he couldn’t feel anything – okay… If someone feels the need to numb an entire section of your body – then it should probably be left alone. I bet he was one of those kids that bit holes through their cheeks whenever dentists gave them novacaine….

So anyway, I’m wondering what kind of incentive there is to go back to competing at all. I mean of course I am, don’t everyone start freaking out – but if I’m happier here, why should I?
There’s so much less BS here to deal with. I love my town, I love my job, I love going to class (well 50% of them), I love my friends here, I love being able to see my family, I love the weather, I love my Fonda – why did I ever leave in the first place? I must have been nuts! Well I guess the Olympics will do that to you… but I’m starting to wonder if I REALLY wanna do it all over again.
I got a whole year to dwell on it, I know I’ll end up going back to Boston and pushing all over again for 2012… but I just hope its not as gutwrenchly hard as it would be if I had to go back today.
Who knows, maybe I’ll get tired of the whole “happiness and sunshine” gig, and go back to “soreness and snowfall” eagerly…