Someone notices some bruises on my arms from my Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu classes.

“Wow. That’s a lotta bruises.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“New boyfriend?”

“…”

—–

The time goes off meaning that we’re done sparring for that round. The Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu partner I’m rolling with says, disappointed,

“Well that was quick!”

I try very hard not to say “that’s what she said”.

—–

I love the green light my green curtains make in the morning …and there aren’t a lot of things I love about the morning.

—–

I go to a med kit looking for a band aid at one of my Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu classes for a new mat cut on one of my feet. The med kit only has tape and neosporin.

I guess that makes sense.

—–

Apparently one of the women I roll with at Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu is a Maine College of Art alumni like me. She majored in sculpture. Small world…

This also means I might not be as weird as I thought I was.

—–

I hate to think how money has control of my (and other people’s) life. When decisions come up and you see happiness or health versus money, it’s just disheartening.

—–

To all who are going crazy shopping already: if you don’t know what to get someone, avert your eyes from Walmart and look to us artists.

—–

As stated by one of my instructors, “Jiu-jitsu is a full contact sport, believe it or not.”

—–

A guy indicating a MMA practice dummy, “What’s this for?”

“It’s for love of course,” I reply.

“Aw. That makes me feel better,” he hugs the dummy.

—–

The Massachusetts state bird is roadwork. The state flower? Roadwork. The state motto? Fing-A! Roadwork!

—–

Third stripe on my belt. It’s bigger than the others. That doesn’t signify anything except that my instructor grabbed some wider tape.

“Wow. Third stripe. You’re moving up in the world, huh?” he says.

—–

I’m up early for jitsu on the weekends. I hate early. I love jitsu. I’m so conflicted in these weekend mornings…

—–

“So I’m assuming there is no class Thanksgiving, right?” I’m asking about Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu classes.

“What? You mean… We’re not your family?”

A later comment on this by a third party, “Picture a turkey. Now picture someone in that turkey’s guard. Now consider the verb form of stuffing. I would reconsider the notion of the jitsu boys as family.”

—–

Me: “Dear makers of women’s martial arts apparel: PLEASE STOP IT WITH THE PINK ALREADY. I don’t like pink. I also think women get the ‘O hay look a female doing martial arts’ look often enough without being adorned in mind liquefying pink colors.”

Guy: “It’s just breast cancer awareness gear. Think of it that way. I mean the NFL had to wear cleats or gloves that were pink.”

Gal 1: “I don’t like pink either, Cindy. It seems it’s either pink or that weird baby-electric-blue. Ew.”

Gal 2: “Amen to that. I saw a shirt the other day that was pink with little crowns and said ‘Tae-kwon-do princess.’ It made me want to vomit.”

—–

Every few months, you need to restart your computer

—–

I like playing the ‘How Did I Get That Bruise’ game. I know they’re all from jitsu, but I want to see if I can figure out what move/drill/roll they came from.

—–

To all you sick people: stay away from work and stay away from the mats. Please. Otherwise, the terrorists win!

—–

From jitsu class, “Never underestimate the healing power of punches.”

—–

“I’ve never rolled no gi before.”

“What’s the problem?”

“She’s having self confidence issues.”

“No I’m not, I just saying I haven’t rolled no gi before.”

—–

“So I’m sending complex SQL to someone else yet I’m having you fix my Firefox problem…”

Yup. Welcome to my life. Good at programming does not mean good at troubleshooting. If it did, my job wouldn’t exist.

—–

Someone typed “Memory leek”. All I can picture is a computer leaking leeks…

—–

I think this caffeine is broken.

—–

I met a black belt jitsu instructor while walking through a graveyard.