One: I got glasses. They're only for reading, working, and driving at night, but that basically means they're for every single second of my life. This is a big deal for me, as I used to pride myself on my 20/10 vision, claiming I could see through people, and now I've developed astigmatism. I only figured it out when I was goofing around putting someone else's glasses on my head, only to go, "Oh, wow. All sorts of words just snapped into focus right in front of me."

Anyway, for me this monumental. Glasses, on my face. Glasses that I carry around in a case. When did I want glasses? Back when I was like, seven. Not so much these days. It's another thing to worry about. And I always think of Piggy and his assmar.

But I decided to get excited about them, like they're my nerd tool. Wonder Woman had her lasso, I've got these specs. I've only shown them to a few people, but every single person has immediately dubbed them "sexy librarian" glasses, and almost every single one of them then said, "But I don't remember what your old glasses looked like."

This is when I learned that everybody in my life thinks that I wear glasses. I've been finding this out lately more and more, that when it comes to thinking about me, glasses appear on my face. Not sunglasses, which apparently have their own share of problems, but glasses-glasses. All this time, when I would make fun of myself for saying something nerdy by miming shoving my frames up the bridge of my nose? People erased from their memories the part where I was pretending, and went ahead and drew glasses on my memory face.

What kind of glasses did they give me, I wonder. Did I have some thick Buddy Holly frames? Or maybe cat-eyed, tortoise-shell, Rockabetty sex-specs. Unfortunately, I'm sure they were careless, and dropped some Harry Potter Lennon-orbs around my eyes and just left it at that. Probably had those wire frames that wrap around my ears to the lobe and everything. I just don't feel comfortable about all the glasses I've worn in other people's heads all this time. I know they had to have been different than the ones I actually do have in real life because people stall when they see these glasses, as if they have to recostume the Pam in their heads.

"Huh," they say. "They're interesting. Like, you didn't go with normal glasses."

I don't know what that means.

People who haven't seen these glasses have said to me, "I thought you always wore glasses." Is it that I have a glasses personality? I know I'm nerdy, probably more nerdy than geeky, and most likely it's actually the dorky that's causing the impression of a lack of visual acuity. "Aw, she's clumsy without her glasses."

And now that I need them, it's like I already had them, so this big shift for me that reminds me how people age and our bodies deteriorate and I've probably spent half my life in front of a computer screen and what's it all about and where am I headed and why did I never learn Spanish and I should just admit I'm never going to sew that dress I've got all the pieces for because I just hate sewing zippers and what's next, my hearing-- is just that. My own little freak-out. Nobody really cares about the glasses. Just like how people always think I'm taller than I really am. Or that I've lost weight when I haven't. Those two things I get told a lot. Maybe people see me as this big fat nerd, and when they look at me they're like, "Huh. I don't want to tell her I think of her as a big, fat nerd, but I feel that this change in what I perceive and reality merits some kind of compliment for her. Because I can't be completely wrong about her being a big, fat nerd. I will tell her that she looks thinner. That always works on chicks."

Or, perhaps, I am shrinking. I'm slowly getting smaller and smaller at a rate I don't notice but acquaintances can, and one day it'll just be this mini-p jumping across her laptop keyboard, desperately trying to Twitter for help.

I have to go to the store right now, rather than writing the derby entry, because I am also currently the victim of my own failed joke. Those new around here might not know that deodorant is kind of a thing with me. I'm always trying to find one that really, truly works. Sometimes even if it works, it stops working after a little while. (This might be why people have the big fat nerd impression of me. "I remember you sweatier and way grosser, Pamie.") After getting six thousand or so suggestions from all of you, I'm still going through my options. So the other day I was browsing the shelves, hoping they'd come up with some new deodorant that was like, "THIS IS IT. YOU WILL ONLY NEED THIS FOREVER."

I didn't find that one. But I did find an Old Spice deodorant with a scent named "Swagger." And that made me laugh. When I read that Swagger was supposed to "Boost Confidence," I figured, "This shit is hilarious, and I need it in my medicine cabinet for when people come over and snoop through my bathroom like people do."

What's her secret? Girl's got Swagger.

I sniffed it, and it seemed kind of like "You used to date this boy," but not too studly that I couldn't pull it off.

And what? I totally got swagger. I'm awesome, people. I mean, I have lost weight.

Anyway, I don't know if it's the way it's reacting with my body's chemistry, or if it's just not really something girls should do but... about fifteen minutes after I applied this stuff to my pits, I was standing by my coffee pot waiting for my first important cup and then suddenly got all this anxiety. Like, that feeling where something terrible is about to happen because I think a man is standing behind me with a knife. I got all nervous and really smelled some crazy dude who'd been standing out in the sun for too long and then

i realized
it
was
me.

I smell like a dude who's drunk at the outdoor festival, walking up to you to ask you if your titties are real, and if so, can he touch them.

No, not walking up to you.

Swaggering.

It's the bad swagger, y'all. And I smell like a douchebag. I smell like a total douchebag. I don't give a shit what LL says, this stuff makes me feel like I'm groping myself on a subway, like I'm standing underneath the Lucite steps at the Apple store, looking up the skirt of the me heading up to the second floor. I feel dirty, y'all. Not good dirty, not fun dirty. I feel like a boy who wears t-shirts with beer jokes on them. Like a guy who says "breast-a-ses." I smell like that shithead who told me he needed me to know that I was "not ugly".

So I will tell the derby story later, when I once again smell like a kickass lady, a former big, fat nerd who still wears pigtails, but now wears glasses. And sometimes roller skates and silver hot pants. But right now I smell like a douchebag, and this will not do for one more second.

"Yeah, I know."

"Have you taken a picture of it yet?"

"No."

"You need to. And put it on the Internet and tell people to come to the bout."

"Okay."

Right now I'm staring at my uniform which is hanging from the doorway to my kitchen. My gear is by my side, brand new helmet already scratched in the places where it saved me from harm. And I'm stoked.

About six weeks ago I was really nervous about this game. I didn't feel ready, I didn't think I'd improved enough from the last tryout or even the last bout to be up for public scrutiny again. Today, when I would have thought I'd be a mess (because I sure was last time. Such a mess!) instead of pacing and peeing every ten minutes and then writing a poem like I fancy myself some kind of Maya Angelou of the track, I'm excited. I trained really hard for this bout. Last time I was mostly worried about falling down (which I did, like, the entire time) and not being the worst one. That was my goal: don't be the worst one out there. And I was probably only the worst one out there less than half the time, so that was something.

These days Fresh Meat is filled with some seriously skilled girls (you have to try out to get into Fresh Meat now, so the new girls that come in... well, let's just say this ain't their first rodeo at all), so instead of having to spend most of our time covering the basics of how to move up and down the track, we've been able to focus on how to play the game. We spent weeks on strategy, skills, and oh-kill-me-now endurance.

"But Holla, you're going to get hit on that bruise on Saturday. That's where they're aiming!"

"I'm going to scream."

I don't know who's going to win (at our Official Scrimmage the score was tied more often than someone was ahead by a point or five), and I have friends on both teams, so I'm just excited to get to play a bout with the lights and the crowd and it's going to be awesome when we totally win. But Jesus yikes, I cannot believe that I have to wear silver hot pants.

Do you live far away and can't make it to the Doll Factory this weekend? Turns out you don't have to miss all the fun. They're going to be streaming the game right here. And yes, I spent a good ten minutes debating whether or not I wanted all y'all to be able to see me, but the truth is I'll do anything to help my league.

Okay, if I write any more words I'll end up writing about how sad I am about Michael Jackson so I'm just going to stop now bye.

6 Honey Nut Cheerios vs. 11 Muesli(x). We had a box of muesli on our cereal shelf as a kid — the hardcore no-brand Bavarian-prison kind. I bet you a dollar that it's still there, and that there's still the same amount of "cereal" in it as 25 years ago, because Mr. S and I peered into the box, once, saw all this forest-floor nonsense like bark and twigs and dung-beetle carapaces and whatnot, and put it back on the shelf and never had anything to do with it again. Fine, provide your offspring with some fiber, but…some fiber. Not all of it. What am I, a termite? I'm sure Mueslix is not nearly as challenging, but hell if I'm going to try it and find out. Honey Nut Cheerios in a landslide.

Make your vote count here.

"No, ma'am," I said. "I was doing the hitting."

She beamed, and walked off saying, "That's my girl."

(Recessionists! Funemployed! Here's a place to win tickets for the game. Bonus fun for those of you who like coming up with Derby names but don't plan on ever strapping on a pair of skates.)

Please buy tickets to the Baby Doll Brawl. Send your friends, grab a group, make an afternoon of it. Something. Because there's been a tremendous amount of blood, sweat and tears (no really, all three) put into this bout. Ticket sales pay our rent. We skate for you and we can't skate without you. And thanks for those of you who have been supporting us all this time, coming to our games or buying merchandise.

So, three quick stories.

I've learned that while I normally bruise extremely easily, my face seems to be the exception. I've taken a few accidental blows to the head over the past couple of weeks -- an elbow to the temple, and elbow to the other temple (same girl, one week later, opposite elbow), a skate to the chin, a shoulder to the cheek, a full-on forehead-to-forehead smack that seemed straight out of a deleted scene from Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and lastly... oh, man.

Last Sunday's practice, I was skating in a jam and the next thing I knew I saw stars. Funny, as we are the Stars in this Stars v Stripes game, but not funny because it meant I had been hit square in the face. I kept skating, finding my partner and moving toward the front of the pack, even though my eyes were tearing and my nose was running and I didn't know if it was blood or not. Anyway, that happened, and I kind of forgot about it until I got home and saw the bruise going across the bridge of my nose. You can't really see it except in certain lights, but it hurts. The front of my face hurts in a straight line from forehead (see above head-smack) to chin.

Early in last night's practice Cyntax Terror skates up to me with this look on her face. "How's your nose?" she asks.

"Fine," I said. "How'd you know?"

"Because I'm the one who hit you in the face."

"Oh. It's okay. I'm okay."

"I didn't mean to. I felt horrible because I hit you like a douche. I was just skating away all fast, and my elbow swung up and hit you in the face. You were skating so low and--"

"Cyntax. I'm fine. It's okay."

"Look! I've got a nose-shaped bruise on my arm."

And that made it all worth it. People, some girl's walking around with the impression of my face on her arm. Come on. I'm a thirty-something comedy writer. Which leads me to later on in practice, when we were working on a hitting drill.

We were all skating in a pace line, and one girl would skate up from behind, and we were each supposed to hit her to the rail. That's the high side of the track. This means you're looking back, and as the girl approaches, you take a few steps up high, and you hit the girl to the rail. The idea is you've either hit her to where she slams into the rail, or she falls. I've been working on my follow-through. This means instead of hitting someone and then pulling back to keep skating, I've been told to work on hitting through the girl. Aiming past her so that I hit her with everything, not just some of my power. (heh. i'm a comedy writer! what power?!)

Okay. I found a picture of the track where this happened. What LEGacy is doing right here, that's what I was supposed to do when Slamazon was coming up behind me. It's called taking her to the rail.

Slamazon is small, and she skates low, meaning she can be a tiny little ball jamming through. So I got real low, turned on my skates and powered up to her. I hit her, she went back into the rail...but I kept going. I went over the track. To see how far of a drop this is, please see this photo.

I went through the track, really, because I didn't go over that top rail. It's a good five, six foot drop or so. I know some girls who are terrified of going over the rail. You hear the horror stories of split lips and lost teeth and "she landed on her head." So when Slamazon disappeared behind me and I kept going -- I kept going, something that seemed impossible due to physics and such -- I knew I was going to fly off the track, and I had to do something to keep me from falling straight onto my head.

I shot my arm out and grabbed one of the support beams. So I flew out of the track, but flipped forward, slamming myself onto the wooden kickrail. Gravity kept pulling, so I was sliding-falling, and I held on as much as I could as I kind of monkey-gripped myself down the support beam until there was nothing left I could hang onto, and then I let go. If that support beam hadn't been there, and I hadn't grabbed it, I have no idea how jacked up I'd be right now.

When you're skating on the track and this happens to someone else, it's very disorienting. Because there they are skating, and then they are gone. You do not see them, you sometimes don't even know what happened to them. It goes pretty quickly. She's on the track; then you can't see her. The girl who was skating behind me said, "I saw the whole thing and it was crazy. It looked like you were falling in slow motion. Because I was, as I was trying like hell to hang onto a pole while upside down, shooting towards concrete.

I hit the ground and immediately started yelping, because it felt like I had flayed myself. The brunt of the impact went to my left arm where I grabbed the support beam, then my chest, which hit the kickrail first, and then my right thigh, which must have been the fulcrum of the entire disaster, because I am currently rocking an enormous contusion.

Anyway, I'm yelping and I can hear everybody on the track stop and take a knee so the trainers can find out if I'm dead, and I am in so much pain that I start laughing because it's glorious that I am not dead. So I'm shouting this: "OW! I'M FINE! HA HA HA! OW, OH GOD! I'M FINE MOTHERFUCKER THIS FUCKING HURTS I'M FINE HA HA HA OW HOLY SHIT OW HA HA I'M FINE OH GOD MY TIT OW HA HA HA I'M FINE!"

I remember the trainers coming up to me, and one saying, "Jesus, Holla. Just stay there for a second. Find out if you're fine." But I couldn't stay still because my skin was screaming. I kept rolling and holding myself, laughing and breathing, trying to turn back time to when this had not just happened.

"Do you want ice? I can give you ice, but you know that's the end of practice for you if you take it."

I did know that. This is our last practice before the bout. "No, ma'am," I said. "I will not be taking ice." And I got back on the track. And people applauded, like you do when an athlete gets up after a hit. (But people, I am a comedy writer.)

The other skaters later told me that at first they couldn't tell if I had been seriously hurt or not, because my laughter was so filled with pain and shock. "I knew you were really laughing, but you were also really cursing."

Punchy, one of the trainers, came up to me later and said, "Are you okay? You were living up to your name, Holla. That was some serious yelling you were doing."

"I thought maybe it would hurt less if I yelled it all out."

"Well, everybody deals with pain in their own way. But you got back up and are out here, so you're a badass."

But this morning, I look horrible. My arm is gnarly, and my chest feels like that pain you get from your seatbelt after a car accident. But my leg. Oh, my leg has this strip of purple/black from one side to another, with a lump in the middle. I've got it wrapped in a bandage because compression actually makes it feel better, and this Vicodin I've got left over from the last time I was training for a Baby Doll Brawl is starting to make everything muuuuuuch better.

During water breaks lately, we are all so tired and beaten up, that sometimes we fantasize about when this is all over, and we get to go see a doctor. I'm not kidding. "I'm going to have someone look at my knees," one girl said to me, beaming.

Last night while walking to our cars, Charlie Frown (one of the refs) and I were talking about how this is it: the next time we get together it's for the bout. "Last time I was a few days before the bout, I was terrified," I said. "I didn't want the day to come. I wanted more practice, more time, more days to skate or figure out how to skate, or stave off another bruise. This time I just want to get out there and do it. The game is going to be fun, and I really want it to be over, so that I can take a little time off to heal. I am so tired of being injured. I wake up in the morning and my back is all twisted, and I'm like an old lady. I just want to not be injured for like, a day."

"You're not injured, Holla," he said. "Injured means you've got something so broken you can't skate, you can't play. Injured means you're out. You're not injured. You're just hurt."

Meaning: suck it up and skate. And he's right.

Roller Derby Tough Love. I appreciate it, because it keeps you from being a pussy.

Okay, and finally:

I got called out. This comedy writer got called out! Check it:

---

Get to know the Meteorfights, playing at Saturday's Baby Doll Brawl.

Captain Lace N' Arsenic (who was recently drafted to the Varsity Brawlers!) and Co-Captain Sulfuric Astrid talk about what it's like to be a rising star on the track, and hint at their secret weapon.

Q: How did you find out about the LADD?
A: (Lace) I attended the Baby Doll Brawl in Oct '08 and then signed up the next week for Fresh Meat. I said to myself, I can hit hard and skate fast; I should do that!

Q: Who are your skating idols?
A: (Astrid) I am always in awe of Fighty Almighty (Angel City Derby Girls)- she is an amazing skater to watch. Also, Tara Armov. She has taught me a lot about skating and derby in general. She is a great
skater and trainer.
A: (Lace) My skating Idols are Mila Minute and Haught Wheels. They are both versatile as blocker and jammer, they have great form, and they really understand the game.

Q: What are some of your skating accomplishments?
A: (Astrid) Everything! When I started, I could barely stand on the track, let alone skate on it! The fact that I am skating in a game, as a co-captain, amazes me.

Q: Who are you rooting for? The Aftershockers or the Prom Queens?
A: (Astrid) The Aftershockers!! I managed for them once-they are an awesome team!

Q: What's more important? To win the game or to win the afterparty?
A: (Lace) Winning the afterparty! Winning the game would rock, but this is all about the experience of being on a team and working towards a goal. If we accomplish that goal of playing as a team, then it's a
win for me.

Q: How do you plan to kick their butts?
A: (Astrid) With my shiny silver ass.

Get to know the Scars and Stripes! Captain Anya Handzaneez and Co-Captain Helen Surly Frown opine about what makes the L.A. Derby Dolls great, and let the Meteorfights know that they're in for a
pummeling.

Q: What is your favorite thing about being an L.A. Derby Doll?
A: (Anya) I get to skate with the best league in the world, made up of the smartest, most diverse group of women and men I have ever met.
A: (Surly) I am in love with the challenge that skating has provided. It has taken a lazy dame in her 30's and given me the drive to become an actual athlete.

Q: Who are your skating idols?
A: (Anya) Some of my favorite skaters to watch are Tara Armov, Venus De Maul'r, Miss Fortune (Rat City), Estro Jen (ACDG) and Trish the Dish (SDDD). Each one brings something special to their team and to their league.
A: (Surly) I'm a huge fan of Iron Maiven. Her ability to move through a pack and knock people around is amazing. I also admire Venus D'Mauler. There is no getting around that booty of hers!

Q: What's more important? To win the game or to win the afterparty?
A: (Anya) It is more about having fun than about winning. Winning is a byproduct of having fun. And I have a little secret for all of you: Everyone wins at the afterparty!

Q: Who is your rival on the other team?
A: (Anya)That pesky May Q. Holla. She's always trying to stop my jams, dammit. Stop blocking me, Holla. Don't make me hit you back!
A: (Surly) Aw, I don't have any rivals on the other team. They're all my sisters. It doesn't mean I won't lay them out, though.

Buy tickets now!

NO CAMERAS ALLOWED! MUST HAVE ID IF YOU ARE 21+

First, at 3 p.m., witness the ALL AGES Baby Doll Brawl featuring our newest rookie skaters! This is our
rare, all-ages bout with spectacular spills and thrills and a beer garden for adventurous adults. Children under 10 free for general admission/$5 for VIP for children under 10.

Then, L.A.'s All Star B Team made up of top skaters from all 4 league teams (Fight Crew, Sirens, Tough Cookies, Varsity Brawlers), the Aftershockers, battle it out on our banked track against the Prom Queens, a mix of SoCal flat track skaters from the Angel City Derby Girls and more. Door opens at 6:30 p.m. This event is 21+ and you MUST have your ID.

Double your derby! Double your fun!
L.A. Derby Dolls host TWO bouts in ONE day of all-girl banked track roller derby action!

At the Doll Factory, 1910 W. Temple Street, Los Angeles

The Los Angeles Derby Dolls' newest skaters take to the track on June 27th in this year's Baby Doll Brawl.

You've got to be a Baby Doll before you can skate with the big girls. So here's your chance to check out the up-and-coming skaters before they join the ranks of your favorite derby superstars.

Without a doubt, the WILDEST day of skating on the Derby Doll calendar.

This is a very special ALL AGES LADD event at 3pm.

1910 W. Temple Street
Los Angeles

Tickets are going fast, get yours online NOW at DerbyDolls.com.

There are sixteen signs you pass as you enter that say "Cash Only," including a little notice taped just above where you take your ticket. It doesn't matter -- you have an entire hour! Who needs cash?

Consequently, it gets pretty crowded in there. The other day I found a spot on the second floor and took it immediately. I knew its location in the corner was going to cause problems after my appointment, but I was already running late (See article I probably will never write, but mentally compose more often than is healthy: Driving to Beverly Hills Sucks In Every Direction: No, Really, I Don't Think You Understand). I pulled in and hustled down the street to my doctor's building.

Almost an hour later I was back in my car, but there was, in fact, a problem. An incredibly large line of cars waiting to leave the garage snaked up and around. I could see two floors of stagnant cars, and I'm sure it went up for another two floors at least. It was just after lunchtime, meaning every single one of these cars wanted to get out before their free hour was up, and some douchebag at the front of the line was probably out of cash and ripping up his back seat looking for enough spare change.

As I sit looking over my shoulder with my foot on the brake and my car in reverse, I realize I'm not going to be able to go anywhere. For one thing, the woman next to me was already backing out, forcing the girl driving the car behind her parked car to back up as much as she could into the line of traffic. The car that was next to me pulled forward, but before I could back up the woman parked diagonally from me backed right into the empty space. The girl driving the car who initially backed up inched her way back just a little more.

This is when the man three cars behind her honked. This being Los Angeles, where people make sure to be doing whatever it is someone else is doing because if someone's doing it, either they want to make sure they're doing it too, or -- more often than not -- they had already thought of doing it, so now they need to show off as quickly as possible that they were just about to have already done did that. The point is: lots of people started honking.

Honk-honk. Honk-honk-hoooonnnnk. The girl at the front of the stalled line of cars gives that helpless shrug, looking into her rearview mirror so she doesn't have to actually see anyone who's angrily giving her the vehicular, "Enough, Missy."

But the thing is, nobody's moving. The two cars that have pulled out around me are now waiting in line just ahead, but they aren't going anywhere, either. In fact, the only space in this entire parking garage, perhaps up until the roof, is the space right behind my parked car.

And my hour was running up.

And I was pretty sure I didn't have any cash.

So I backed up. The girl holding back the line of angry cars gives me the saddest little, "Et tu?" scrunch of her eyebrows, so I gave the silent, "I-KNOW-I'M-SORRY-I'M-NOT-NORMALLY-AN-ASSHOLE-BUT-I-DON'T-LIVE-HERE-IN-THIS-PARKING-GARAGE-AND-MY-HOUR-IS-ALMOST-UP-AND-YOU-DON'T-KNOW-WHY-I-WENT-TO-THE-DOCTOR-WHAT-IF-I'M-DYING-THEN-WHAT-HUH?" hand wiggle, head jiggle combo.

She got it. She lowered her head, nodding.

I backed up and pulled up to the cars in front of me as much as I could.

Then the honking really kicked in. One dude about four cars back starts screaming out his window, "Do you need me to find more people for you to let out in front of us?"

Another woman in a different car screams back, "Do you need to be such a dick? What is she supposed to do? We're all going the same place, you son of a bitch."

[I always think people don't really say "You son of a bitch," except in movies and television, where censors keep us saying things nobody really says. But she really did say that, so... sorry, censors. I still think it sounds like we're on Lifetime.]

Honk-honk, honk-honk.

I look forward, pretending I have nothing do with this, because I think I'm possibly one hundred percent responsible for the fighting going on behind me.

When I finally got to the front, the woman taking tickets tells me I now owe two dollars. I frantically search my bag and luckily, luckily, find the cash.

"It's kind of nuts up there on the second floor," I say to her.

"Yeah, that's what the lady in front of you just told me," she says. She shakes her head, putting my money into her drawer. She doesn't hit the button to open the gate. Instead, she glances up toward the line of angry cars, listening to the honking.

Then she turns back to me. "It's like, I guess I could hire someone to stand up there and direct you guys in and out of the building. But the way I figure it? Y'all grown."

I start laughing.

"See, you get it. Make them wait for a second. I'm not done. I mean it. Y'all all grown. Supposed to be grown-ups, big people, parking your own cars. You all grown enough to drive those fancy things in here, you should be grown enough to drive them away."

"That's very true," I say.

"I mean it. Y'all're grown. For real."

I love her.

A quick interview with former Samantha Who? writer and "Activating" favorite Robin Shorr, who has some pretty big shoes to fill.

Double your derby! Double your fun!

L.A. Derby Dolls host TWO bouts in ONE day of all-girl banked track roller derby action!

The day explodes at 3 p.m. with an exciting exhibition of LADDs newest skaters, known as the Baby Doll Brawl, featuring the latest, greatest rookie skaters. Baby Doll Brawls are known for two things: being an all-ages bout (so you can bring the whole family including the kids), and featuring some of the most spectacular, cringe-inducing hits and spills. The rookies are hungry to prove themselves as future Derby Doll stars and they play it like they mean it.

Expect this patriotic crop of baby dolls to bleed red, white and blue when the Scars and Stripes faces off against the Meteorfights. Derby fans ages one to 99 can't wait to check out this rare ALL AGES bout!

At halftime, the L.A. Junior Derby Dolls, the first and only banked track junior derby league for girls ages 8-17 in Southern California, will scrimmage and show you how cool you could have been when you were a kid.

This is the only opportunity to attend an ALL AGES bout. Adults should fear not as a full beer garden will be flowing to ensure a good time is had by all. Doors open at 3pm. Bout starts promptly afterward. Children under 10 free for general admission, $5 for VIP.

After you've gotten your appetite wet with some rookie violence, stay to witness The Aftershockers, LADD's All Star B-Bracket Team, shake up the track against The Prom Queens, a random mix of SoCal flat track skaters who live for tiaras and roller derby. This event is 21+ and doors open at 6:30 p.m.

Purchase the package tickets for BOTH events at a superbly discounted rate! Tickets for each event are also available separately.

ABSOLUTELY NO CAMERAS ALLOWED! BRING YOUR ID IF YOU ARE 21+. DOOR OPENS AT 3 P.M. AND BOUT STARTS PROMPTLY AFTER. DON'T MISS A SINGLE MINUTE AND COME ON TIME.

Get your general admission ticket NOW ONLINE as the price is MORE at the door - plus, you know we sell out and you know what that means! We may not have tickets for sale at the door!

Parking is available for $8 at Silver Lake Medical Center, 1711 West Temple (near the intersection of Temple and Union), one block east of the Doll Factory. NO NEIGHBORHOOD PARKING IS ALLOWED.

CHECK THE HOTLINE 310-285-3766 the day of for game information.

Hear why I'm so tired and puffy. (And why I keep going on breakfasts and lunches and hikes and sometimes hide out in the library for hours.)

Come back.

God, Chris, your words still kill me.

The fast, furious and fearless L.A. Derby Dolls, Southern California's premiere all-female, banked track roller derby league, rolls into summer with a much-anticipated re-match between the Sirens and reigning champions, the Tough Cookies.

The two all-star heavy teams will face off for the first time since November's nail-biting championship bout. Two thousand breathless derby fans hung onto the edge of their seats as the underdog Cookies claimed victory by only two points in the last jam.

Now the Sirens are greasing their wheels and planning revenge. The 2007 champions' new captains recently led their girls in blue to a close victory against freshman team, Varsity Brawlers. The officers will patrol the track again, anchored by three lightening-speed jammers: Kung Pow Tina, V. Lee and Mila Minute. Paired with crushing blockers, the Sirens form a fierce force on the banked track.

The Cookies haven't skated in a game since January, where they narrowly defeated the rejuvenated Fight Crew. Cookies captain Iron Maiven and co-captain Gori Spelling are eager to reclaim their dominance. The Cookies major crusher Krissy Krash, white-hot jammer Laguna Beyatch, and blockers Kelly Kaboom and LEGacy will show the Sirens their victory was no fluke.

Be there and see all the action, May 30th. Get your tickets in advance, as these events SELL OUT.

EAT THROUGH AUSTIN, the final list:

(Watch as this goes from me feasting with glee, to trying to take a break from food (and failing), to needing to shove every morsel I've missed into my face before time ran out.)

Night Pre-One

Opal Devine's:
Live Oak Black Bark Beer
Cracked pepper fries
Southwestern Eggrolls

Day One

Trudy's
Migas w/ Flour Tortillas
Chips/Salsa
Kona Coffee

Shoal Creek Saloon
Crawfish
Shiner

Doubletree Inn
Cake
Scotch

Verde Camp (Home Base)
Peach
HEB Central Market BBQ Chips

Day Two

Guero's
Breakfast Tacos (Potato, Egg & Cheese | Spinach & Egg | Bacon, Egg & Cheese)
Chips and Salsa
Peach
Coffee, coffee, coffee

El Chile
Ceviche de la Casa
Chips/Salsa
Bloody Mary

Verde Camp
Salad we made from food bought at HEB.
Wine
Cheese & Crackers
Red Velvet cupcake from Hey Cupcake!

Day Three

Chuy's
Chips & Salsa
Chips & Salsa
Chips & Salsa
Elvis Green Chile Chicken
Queso Compuesto
Herradura Margarita
Chips & Salsa

Verde Camp
Shiner

Amy's Ice Cream
Mexican Vanilla w/ Ginger Snaps & Strawberries

Verde Camp
Blackberries

Day Four
(also known as "Pamie Pretends She's Still Twenty-Five")

Trudy's
Mexican Breakfast
Kona Coffee

Verde Camp
Shiner
Prosecco

UT Club
wine + professors

Casino el Camino
Casino Burger w/ Bacon
Fries
Spicy Chicken Wings
scotch

Ego's
Shiner

Common Interest
Some kind of crazy Jell-o shot that comes in an enormous joke syringe. When I said I don't do Jell-o shots, my friends said, "Well, it's just... I thought you were eating through Austin, doing the local food thing. ... Pussy." And so I did the Jell-O shot, and then I did not feel good and then I sang through it and I was fine.

Whataburger
Whataburger w/ Cheese
French Fries
Sprite

Day Five

Verde Camp
Tara's leftover chicken quesadilla tacos from Chuy's (and a couple of bites from my Elvis plate)
Strawberries

Freddie's Place
SALAD.
Pacifico

Thundercloud Subs
Roast Beef Sandwich
Salt & Pepper potato chips from HEB Central Market

Amy's Ice Cream
Mexican Vanilla w/ oatmeal cookies and bananas

Day Six

Eva B's Bakery
Elgin Sausage Kolaches (2)
The worst coffee ever

Sonic
Diet Cherry Limeade
small Tater Tots (shame-scarfed at the red light leaving the parking lot before Dave knew)

Ichiban
sushi
beer
sake

Day Seven

Austin-Bergstrom International Airport
Lone Star Beer
Salt Lick pulled pork sandwich
beans
slaw
coma

We did it. We totally did it. I stuffed an entire city into my body and had such a fantastic time. Good friends, good food, good memories, all of it. Sad that it took five years to get there, but so happy I was lucky enough to get to spend a week.

...and I guess I'll have some time to go back now that hiatus has turned to unemployment.

Yesterday brought another uniquely Hollywood experience. Around here, good news comes first from your agent. Bad news comes from your ex-husband and Variety. In that order. (Forever known as my Carrie Fisher Epiphany.)

Goodbye, Samantha Who?. I will miss you lots and lots.

So when I'm feeling blue, now I have this O+ podcast to cheer me up.

THREE TYPES OF COOKIES -- The tourists at night are big and full DEEP IN THE HEART OF TEXAS! On the eve of Tara’s departure in the middle of the Eat Through Austin tour, Dave, Pam, and Tara relive some of their favourite meals and moments of the trip thus far. Are you more interested in cookies? LBJ? Don’t worry, we’ve got you covered in either case.

It's our little Austin souvenir (to go with the hundreds of Austin souvenirs purchased), and I am so grateful for minute 25, which will never fail to make me laugh.

Photos of the trip can be found on Dave's, Tara’s and my Flickr accounts.

I'm happy to see your blog is still going strong and that you are still writing.

I'm writing, because I am frantic. I have a request that will cost nothing to anyone but the time to send a batch email.

In order to save Lakeview and 5 other Oakland libraries from having hours cut from 6 days to 3 or 2 days a week, starting in July, we need people to contact City Council telling them to vote against this plan. City Council will decide at the end of June, so we only have a few weeks to turn this around.

Could you ask your blog friends to help us? If any of your blog friends are in the Bay Area and want to help in person we are having our first Save Oakland Libraries, Again!

meeting:

Saturday, May 23rd 2:00-3:00
Lakeview Branch Library
550 El Embarcadero
Oakland, Ca 94610

Please email:

Ron Dellums officeofthemayor @ oaklandnet.com
Larry Reid lreid @ oaklandnet.com
Nancy Nadel nnadel @ oaklannet.com
Jean Quan jquan @ oaklandnet.com
Ignacia De La Fuente idelafuente @ oaklandnet.com
Desley Brooks dbrooks @ oaklandnet.com
Jane Brunner jbrunner @ oaklandnet.com
Patricia Kernighan pkernighan @ oaklandnet.com
Rebecca Kaplan atlarge @ oaklandnet.com
Carmen Martinez cmartinez @ oaklandnet.com

Here are some specifics about Lakeview, where you spoke when you visited a few years ago.

Lakeview provides in additon to books, dvds, music cds, wifi, public internet computers, audiobooks, newspapers and magazines:

1 or 2 adult programs a month (booked through April 2010)
Two art galleries, which have exhibits scheduled through October 2010
3 children's story times a week
The Lakeview Writers Group which meets monthly and has done so for many years and has printed out two small volumes of original writings.
The Book Club, which meets monthly and has done so for many years.
1 teen program every other month and often more
A chess club which meets weekly after school and has done so for years
A knitting club for all ages which meets weekly and has done so for years
A new chess club starting monthly meetings on the 3rd Saturday of every month
1 Large special children's program a month and/or 1 Small special crafts children's program a month.
School visits and class visits
Currently we have 15 regular volunteers who donate 3 or more hours a week.
Our garden which surrounds our beautiful small building is totally maintained by volunteers
Over 10,000 people were inside Lakeview in April.2009!

This is a library that deserves to be SAVED!

Thank you, Pamie, if you even have time to read this.

Sincerely,

Mary Eileen Farrell
On my own time
From my own computer