Rumspringa has sprung

For whatever reason, several of us at work are vaguely fascinated with the Amish rite of passage called Rumspringa. It seems to come up in conversation almost once a month -- especially between Matt and myself (usually referencing the documentary Devil's Playground, which I still haven't seen and which is probablty not exactly a representative depiction) -- so when Brandon saw this over the weekend he obviously had to pass it along: Amish woman looking for true love. - 22

Hi! I am a girl from a small town in Iowa, where I was raised Amish. I am currently on rumspringa, which is the time in every young person's life where he or she goes out into the English world to experience everything that is out there. The hope is that at the end of rumspringa, we will return to our communities and join the Amish church, but I'm still not sure if I'm ready for that! I really like living in a world with cars and electricity and computers!

I'm 22 years old and I like to go hiking and I love animals. I like listening to music because that's something else I could never do before, so it's very exciting! I'm looking for a guy who is honest and kind and good looking of course! I have blonde hair and I guess I'm cute and stuff, and I wear English clothes rather than Amish and I don't wear a bonnet or anything, I mean, I do sometimes but probably wouldn't if we went out!

This is just fascinating to me on so many levels...

At a very base and juvenile level, I think I just like how "rumspringa" (and the occasional wilding that goes along with it) reminds me of "Rump Shaker".

Rollergirl Update

Just FYI, I've added a listing for the upcoming Rocky Mountain Rollergirl event on Upcoming.org. (You should all sign up and use Andy's rocking event calendar site.) I've also been in contact with Jayne Manslaughter of the Sugar Kill Gang... This fact alone excites me tremendously.

Meanwhile, The Wife took a kickboxing class last night and loved it, so maybe she's not as far from rollergirl fame as she thinks... ;)

Mark Your Calendar

The Rocky Mountain Rollergirls are finally getting down to bidness:

Don't miss our first bout! July 16, 2005 Bladium Sports Center The Red Ridin' Hoods versus The Sugar Kill Gang

Matt tells me the Bladium stinks to high heaven, but I'm not positive that's going to be enough to dissuade me from persuing my first roller derby experience.

Meanwhile, Matt and I are already daydreaming about being roller derby emcees (since it doesn't look like our significant others are going to sign up to skate anytime soon... Boo!):

How can I help? Know a band who'll work gratis for one of our events or bouts? Got a neighbor who can donate chairs or beer? Have a rich uncle whose company would sponsor the Roller Girls? Wanna be a referee or MC? Feel the burning need to adopt a roller girl? E-mail rmrollergirls@yahoo.com And of course, you can always attend our events!

Pyrophagia

Oakland: Taste of fire sparks feeding frenzy

The experience produced a notable rush. Having eaten fire, I was surprised to find I was greedy for it. All of us were as we raced to dip our fire sticks in the instructor's martini shaker of Coleman camping fuel, and then crowded around the little votive candle that was our source of flame.

Man, I can't tell you how long I've been interested in fire eating and – more specifically – juggling fire. Hmm... I gotta get out my juggling clubs again sometime...

Here's the best part:

The office worker, John Sutton, 39, said he wanted to be the first in his group to eat fire. "I don't know anybody who does it," he said. "Guys who knit aren't edgy anymore."

Good to know. Suttons around the world just want to be cool, I guess.

Anyway, remember always: "Don't do more than one stupid thing at a time."

Powers Irish and Poker

(This post mostly belongs on FtN which may make a comeback soon.) I had a poker night at my house last night for the first time in what feels like forever, but is actually probably a month. We ended up shorthanded with only four of us at the table, but that actually ended up being rather nice — We only got distracted from the game a couple times and probably ended up playing more hands than we do with six.

My homegame consists of guys from my workplace. Occasionally that means we gossip like bitties at the backyard fence, but mostly it means we are often in similar moods thanks to the current "atmosphere" at work. Let's just say Matt got things rolling when he whipped out the flask I gave him for being my best man at my wedding. He was rolling with a pocket full of Jameson, which eventually led to a rather deep discussion of whiskeys (focusing on bourbon and Irish). By the end of the night Neal has taken a small dent out of my bottle of Bulleit, I have poured myself a couple fingers of Powers, and Dave has had "sips" from pretty much everyone else's cup.

The poker ended up being rather incidental, but for the record:

  • Dave and Matt both went through their initial $10 buy-in and re-bought for another $5. Both finished with their five dollars, roughly.
  • Matt was peculiarly cursed. He got dealt 6-2 off-suit a record seven times.
  • Neal ended up with $11, and I took $29.
  • I like to think I'm good at a shorthanded table, but truth be told I caught a handful of straights and several other good hands. I still played pretty poorly — It just didn't matter much last night.

That's the poker. The whiskey's magic had only begun. I slept like I was possessed of demons. I can only hope I wasn't crawling all over my poor, dear wife. I had dreams – the details of which mostly escape me, but it's unusual for me to even remember dreaming – of "test driving" two vehicles, one of which was a large pickup with two steering wheels. I guess in case you wanted the passenger to take over...?

The test drives were also road trips involving a handful of women who seemed to have more drama going on in their lives than the Desperate Housewives (no doubt a dream analog to our back fence gossiping). At one point we were all gathered in my kitchen, which was laid out like my current house but featured the wacky knotty pine cabinets of the house we occupied in Quincy, MA. Why the whiskey devils put me in the position of herding these particular cats, I can't exactly imagine.

I'm just not sure if I want to stay away from the Powers now, or have some more...