Motion Sickness Association of America Reviews Avatar

Unlike the Blair Witch Project which received 3 stars from the Motion Sickness Association of America and the latest Jason Borne installment which scored an amazing 4 1/2 stars on the Motion Sickness Scale, Avatar received an impressive and yet-to-be achieved 5 star rating. It will most definetly take movie goers a full five days to fully recover their equilibrium.

Avatar starts us spinning from the very first scene and spits us out with a terrible case of sea-sickness that would rival any rough-water dinghy ride in the Cayman Islands. (This movie reviewer's personal worst motion-sickness episode.) But Avatar is a such a mesmerizing and new ride with such special effects and amazing scenery, that no matter how sick you start to feel you won't ever want to ask to get off.

Avatar will be just like the Tea Cup ride at Disney World. You will both love and hate it.

First, the plot: Donning 3-D glasses in an IMAX setting, movie goers are introduced to Jake Sully, a paraplegic ex-Marine who is going to an alien-filled planet, Pandora, which is rich with natural resources. Sully's mission, along with other new recruits, is simple: take on an Avatar body like those of the natives, infiltrate the native's society, gain their trust and then betray them. It is the age-old story of white man taking what is not his. But much like Avatar's special 3-D effects, the plot takes its own expected twist. To no one's surprise, Sully falls in love with the native people and a certain native maiden named Neytiri, and a John Smith/Pocahontas/Dances with Wolves scenario is introduced.

And a total and complete nauseating sickness overtakes the 3-D movie goers.

Now to the dialogue: The most sickening part of the movie was not its special effects or cheesy plot, but the terrible dialogue lines and sterotypical roles assigned by writer/director and cheesy "King of the World" himself, James Cameron. Here are a few examples: The head scientist, Dr. Grace, who obviously hates meat-head Marine, Sully, tells him, "Let your mind go blank, that should be easy for you." Later, the hard-ass helicopter pilot Trudy (Anna Lucia from LOST) smacks her gum (of course), then smirks and triumphantly spouts off, "You guys should see your faces" as the new recruits are introduced to the visually breathtaking scenery of Pandora.


[Here Cameron tells Sam Worthington (Jake Sully), "Now go over there and say, 'You had me at hello.' It will be perfect.]

But the most gag-inducing dialogue was assigned to the bad guy, Colonel Quaritch. The queasy feeling begins to creep in right from the start when Col. Quaritch explains to the new recurits, "You're not in Kansas anymore" when they land on Pandora. How original. And you really feel the need to hurl as he rounds out his terrible dialogue perfumance with, "Come to Pappa" when challenging the hero to duel in the final scenes.

And finally, the most dizzying effect: Mother Nature. Compounding the motion sickness caused by the incredible visual effects, the gut-wrenching dialogue and unoriginal plot line is the appearance of the Mother Nature-diety character, Ewya. It's not the nature part that we turn "green" over, it's the obvious parallel to Oprah Winfrey that Cameron draws here.


[Because she didn't like her Avatar, Oprah obviously chose the next best character that she thought fit her the best: the all-knowing, all-controlling deity character, Ewya.]

Ewya is the spiritual leader. She is all knowing, she loves everything, runs everything and even gives and takes life. She's an expert on mating rituals and lifetime mates, although there's never a Father Nature in the picture. Instead there's just a stand-in "Stedman" tribe leader who lets "Gail," his wife, run the show. And Gail and Ewya are pretty close. I think Ewya is so excited when Sully comes back to save the day that you hear a "Jaaaake Sullllly!!!" coming from the Life tree at one point. Nauseating.

By the end of the movie, you just wish that it would all end. Like nighttime in the forrest, movie-goers are going to feel like they are taking a bad trip at a neon-lit Rave. You will be begging Ewya to make the ceiling stop spinning.

The final word: You will be sickened by Avatar, but you must watch it and you won't be able to look away. Take a few deep breaths, keep your eyes on the horizon and have a barf-bag at the ready. You're in for a visually stimulating and vomit-inducing ride.

My Inner Beyoncé

For the last few months I've been working on a "total life overhaul." It has been one of the happiest times of my life where I've just taken some time to really figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

Currently, I'm finishing my Master's degree in professional and technical writing. All I have left is a three hour class on linguistics and my Mater's thesis: "How to market yourself online as a freelance writer." Writing my thesis entails logging some serious research time at the library, learning the useful bits about Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn and WordPress and a lot of writing time at my kitchen table.

I've also had the opportunity to do some freelance work on a tourism guide to Rwanda and I just started a serious book club called 10 x 12 with my good friend, MM. And for the cherry on top, I'm attending the "Woman on a Mission" bible study every Wednesday morning for the next ten weeks. God and I are working out my purpose in life-- and let me tell you I am excited about it.

I've never loved my life more.

In the months to come, I will be launching my freelance writing business, appropriately named, The Tiger Lilies. Much like this blog that points out contradictions, my freelance writing business will focus on my contradiction as a writer and a person-- both technical and creative, "Type-A" and Diva all wrapped into one.

But as my "Type-A," technical writing personality checks off items on my to-do list, I've noticed that my inner Beyoncé is beginning to growl. She began getting antsy when American Idol started, and as we get closer to the top 24, she's feeling the need to perform. I mean, Ellen will be there!

I've always said that the first thing I'd like to do when I get to heaven is to be shown to the dinner table. And after about a decade there with dozens of Community Bakery's iced sugar cookies and Way out Willie's fajitas, St. Peter will be showing me to the stage.

Tiger Lily to my inner Beyoncé, she is being so patient.

Tiger Lily to Angst, Sallinger Style

A Rare Re-Post in Honor of the Late Sallinger.

About two weeks ago, Matt and I went on a much-needed vacation to Mexico. I was looking forward to eating too much at our all-inclusive resort and basking in the hot Cancun sun while washing away the swine flu with every hand-wash. And as part of my normal vacation ritual, I brought along a couple of books to read. (I am on this kick where I'm trying to read classics.) So as I was browsing the "required summer reading" shelves at Barnes and Noble, I ran across The Catcher in the Rye.

This particular edition of the "American Classic" didn't have a synopsis printed on the back or on the inside cover and I decided to take a gamble. I had no idea what the book was about, but I knew it was a classic and the first page caught my attention:

“If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. In the first place, my parents would have about two hemorrhages apiece if I told anything pretty personal about them. They’re quite touchy about anything like that, especially my father.”

The story opens with a depressed and angry 16-year old named Holden Caulfield, who has just been kicked out of his third or fourth prep school. The remaining 100 or so pages follow his trip home to face his parents who Holden expects will be very disappointed with him, yet again. The more the story continued to do nothing but follow this kid, the more engrossed I became. I empathized with this "screw up" who was terribly whiny and foul-mouthed. And as he described every adult he saw as a "phoney," I began to adopt his cynical views and became a little unhappy-- even on vacation. If I hadn't picked up Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons before we left, I might be in therapy right now.

The more I tried to figure out why The Catcher in the Rye was such an American Classic, the more baffled I became. And now, after two weeks of reflection, I have decided that this story of a young man's angst must have been cutting-edge in the 1950's. I'm sure this book was banned not only for the language and the mention of "feeling sexy" around a prostitute, but also because no one in America would have wanted little Johnny to adopt such a negative outlook on life.

All in all, I quite prefer Ferris Bueller's teen-angst to Holden Caulfield's. While I can relate with both characters, Ferris provides a more playful and hopeful view of what comes next in life, where Holden just depresses the hell out of you.

In response to all of this, I have begun trying to really focus on the "glass-half-full" approach to life. That, and Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons has really brought me out this loathing for all mankind and I'm starting to recover. Tiger Lily to Salinger's teen angst; it has caused me to focus on being happy.

Expectations and I are Facing Off.

This Tiger Lily is dedicated to Jennifer Anniston. (I'm sure she faced off with her Expectations years ago...)

Tonight I attended one of my good friend's weddings and caught myself really concentrating on what the preacher had to say. He gave a homily of sorts, but on the shorter side, (which we all can appreciate) and then ended the service with a simple prayer. He prayed that the couple would experience "peace" in their marriage.

Well, HELLO! Did the preacher say that at my wedding and I just wasn't paying attention? Tonight, it finally hit me. I've been expecting perfection all my life, and I'm not just talking about my marriage-- which is actually pretty great, thanks to my husband-- But instead, I should have been asking God for "peace" instead of expecting Him to deliver "perfection."

So what are these things, "EXPECTATIONS"? And why have mine been so out of control? I guess I stubbornly expect everything to be perfect, to be on my timeline and to work out beautifully. But tonight, I began to realize that I should be praying for more "peace" as life usually delivers the unexpected.

For instance, in 2009:

1. Michael Jackson passed away. Totally unexpected. And, further on this note, I loved This Is It. Also totally unexpected. (If you haven't seen it, you should. "God bless you.")

2. Taylor Swift won The Country Music Association's Entertainer of the Year Award. Have you heard her sing live? Totally unexpected.


She named her album, "Fearless." Because you would have to be to go to her concert.

3. Oprah announced she will retire. Wait, she's not God? She won't live forever? Again, unexpected.


Here she is praying. I guess that should have tipped me off that she wasn't deity incarnate.

4. The public is now loving Kate and hating Jon. Well you could knock me over with a feather.

5. The Octo-Mom did not sign on for a reality television show. Unexpected.




6. Obama wins the Nobel Peace Prize. (Settle down everybody, I'm just saying it was unexpected!)


Here he is after that great bank bail-out decision.

So Tiger Lily to Expectations. They almost never turn out the way you planned.

And kudos to Jennifer Anniston. From what I can see, she must have kicked Expectations to the curb and started asking for peace a long time ago.

Tiger (Lily) Woods

Sorry, I had to. My fans (all two of them) have both asked me to write a Tiger Lily for Mr. Woods and I couldn't resist.

Before I award the Tiger Lily, I have a few comments to make. First, I'd like to commend Tiger for his choice in women. As I've read through my trusted source, People, these women have been displayed for my gawking pleasure week-in and week-out. I'd like to say,

"Superior taste, Mr. Woods! I especially like the older Miss Orlando. She must have preformed really well in talent portion of the competition."



(Warning, do not google "Tiger's Mistresses and photos." I'm afraid my McAfee software went into overdrive.)

Next, I'd like to express my new fondness for Tiger's wife, Elin. Normally, I'm a hater of beautiful, "Trophy" Wives, but I now have a profound respect for her and what she's gone through. I can't imagine. All I have to say is,

"Way to go with the golf club! Women everywhere are living vicariously through you! (Even if it's not true.)"

And lastly, I just want to say,

"Yeah, right" that Tiger's Caddy/Wingman, Steve Williams, knew nothing about all of this. Here he is pointing out Mistress #73 to Tiger in the gallery.



But I think the real TL goes to Tiger's fans. I mean, are you really surprised?

Let's review some famous men and their lack of fidelity:

Dog #1- Wilt Chamberlain.
I mention him first because men all over the world like to quote Wilt's self-reported statistic every time. As if to say, "At least he wasn't as bad as Wilt." It drives me crazy.

Good 'ole Wilt brags in his autobiography, A View From Above, that he had sex with over 20,000 women. Wilt's saving grace (in my book, at least) was that he never married. Yet, when asked by a steady girlfriend how many women he'd slept with, he held up the following sign:



Wilt, you sly, lying dog.

Dog #2- Magic Johnson.
Magic contracted HIV and admitted in the early 90's that this was the product of affairs with multiple sexual partners. My guess is that he cheated on his wife. What a hero.

Dog #3- Kobe Bryant
Kobe was accused of a sexual assault on a 19-year old in Colorado in 2003. The charges were later dropped and Kobe simply explained that it was an extramarital affair. Phew. Thank goodness he's such a great guy. He even gave his wife a jumbo diamond after that. She's so lucky. I bet that's the only extramarital affair he ever had.

Dog #4- John Edwards
Johnny ran for President while his wife battled breast cancer and took care of their kids. If this wasn't enough to put him in the dog category, he then made a baby with a bimbo who thought he was "hot." (Please see my blog post about good hair. It's never good, people.)



Dog #5- Tim Tebow
Okay, so he hasn't been accused of infidelity yet. But it's just a matter of time. Look at his girlfriend. Poor thing.



I could parade a number of other dogs and their dirty-dog ways, but I think you get the point. Tiger is just one, in a long line, of misbehaving men. It is all of us who should take the Tiger Lily. We were fooled by his PR machine, by his biceps, by his Sunday-clutch shots and arm pumps. We just wanted to believe that all those PGA guys are just as squeaky clean as they are talented. I think we've all learned the hard way not to be so naive.

I'm not saying that any of us, myself included, are any shade of perfect. I don't expect Tiger or anyone else to be any more than just human. But his calculated, manipulative, and assisted marital escapades should not be glossed over just because he's a great athlete. It is terrible. I appreciate that he's asked forgiveness and I hope he won't do it again. But rarely do old dogs learn new tricks. Tiger Lily to everyone who was surprised and to anyone who thinks this will be the last time.

New Moon Knocks the Socks Off Chastity

Warning- a Sexy Read.

Fanpires and Wolf Packs ascended the theaters nation-wide last night for a midnight glimpse of Stephanie Meyer's New Moon-- the latest installment in her best selling Twilight-series about Vampires, Werewolves and Love Triangles. And as much as I'd like to say that I'm not a fan, about three things I am absolutely positive:

First, Twilight is about Vampires.
Second, there is a part of me, and I don't know how dominant that part might be- that is prone to obsession over fictional characters.
And Third, I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Jacob.

But seriously. How did I become such a dork? I'd like to say for the record, that I am a cool person. I have never liked Star Wars too much or known enough about Star Trek to name all of the characters (Mom), and I have absolutely never dressed up like any of these characters, not even a cape or wand accessory for Harry Potter.

But there is something about the Twilight Series that brings out the "New Kids on the Block" reaction in me. I bought my ticket for the New Moon premiere as soon as they went on sale; I began standing in line at 6:00 p.m. for a midnight showing; and I've even taken sides again- but this time, it's not Joey over Donny, it's Jacob over Edward.

I almost teared up when Jacob came on screen, I tore the hair from my own head, came close to fainting and almost lost my mind. Wait. Tiger Lily, I have lost my mind.


This could be me. Sanjaya girl.

I blame the Twilight pushers (Reagan, Traci and Brooke) who gave me a thirst for something that can never be satiated. I mean, it's a story about chastity and blood-thirsting that never truly delivers. It's like blue balls for girls. And we love it.

It's a story of unrequited love and all that star-crossed lovers BS that gets girls going. Edward, the brooding and good looking "bad boy" Vampire loves Bella- but he won't do anything about it- for the entire movie. They embrace, breath really hard at one another, occasionally exchange a pained-but restrained kiss, and then never go any further. I've admitted on more than one occasion that while reading these books, I would think, "Just do it!"


Right before they stare and don't kiss-- again.

Then, to spice things up- Meyers adds a love triangle. (And cue Jacob the Werewolf.) He's the ripped 17-year-old with with dark hair who is totally willing to "make it happen." (Thanks to J-Keaton for this phrase. It just means what you think it means.) But Bella won't have any of it. She'd rather lead him on and then go back to her non-delivering Vampire.



The brunette who gets it all wrong.



The blond that proves not all of them are dumb.

Women watch all of this for transpire over the course of two hours and then go home husbands who are now loving the Twilight series too, even though they'll never see the movies.

Tiger Lily to those people that have touted this book as a "good message" for teenage girls. It obviously makes all women crazy and absolutely has the potential to ruin a promise-ring ceremony.

Tiger Lily to 30-something women everywhere who are getting their kicks from a young-adult book series-- myself included.

And most of all, Tiger Lily to all of the men who make fun of us. You're getting more than Edward or Jacob ever dreamed of.

Coffee Date- Pharma Style

Yesterday I met my husband at Starbucks for an early-morning coffee date. We succumbed to a piece of "low-fat" cinnamon coffee cake and talked about the day ahead. Amidst the heating of the milk that makes that unmistakable Starbucks sound, and the smell of burnt coffee, we began to hear a very loud and very country-accented patron talking about his "drug" (Drug X) and the number of prescriptions "Dr. Black" would be writing of this said drug. It reminded me of my pharmaceutical days and made me smile, and then cringe, and then smile again.

Country Sales Rep (CSR): "Hello Dr. Black. I'm so glad you could meet me this morning for coffee. I like to bring my docs here and treat them to something really special. How is your latte?" *Cheesy and self-satisfied smile*

Dr. Black: "It's great, CSR. You should bring me a vente next time you visit. (CSR takes a quick note.) Although I've met with many drug representatives from your company, you might just be one of my favorites. You really bring me information that is relevant to my patients." *Rolls his eyes while CSR takes a sip of his latte and reminds himself that CSR will be giving him a generous check after Wednesday night's dinner program-- at which he will serve as a speaker, again.*

CSR: "So, I've noticed that you have quite a few elderly patients in your practice." *Self-satisfied smile again, he thinks himself very perceptive and congratulates himself on delivering a clever hook that has now engaged Dr. Black.*

Dr. Black: "Why yes, CSR, I do have many elderly patients and I've really started writing Drug X for quite a few of them." *Checks his watch, decides that he needs to give CSR about 10 more minutes.*

CSR: "Well, that's what I wanted to talk with you about this morning. After looking at the prescribing data that my company gives me, it seems that you might only be writing Drug X for 98% of your patients. Now, I know that not all of your patients are elderly, but surely all of them would benefit from Drug X? In fact, the other day, I was talking to one of my Nurse Practitioners who is a huge writer of Drug X; she was telling me that she has seen Drug X make such a difference in her middle-aged patients' lives, that they are now able to walk all the way to the mailbox and back, play that extra nine holes of golf, and even do their yard work again. And now that Drug X is fully covered on Blue Cross and Blue Shield, there's not really any reason you shouldn't write it for every patient in your practice." *Short pause, then CSR remembers that he should "check-in" or take Dr. Black's pulse.* So, he adds, "Does this make sense Dr. Black?"

Dr. Black: *Has been glad to have CSR engaged in his sales-pitch and has been eyeing the sexy/gothic coffee barista as she pours out a cafe mocha. Realizes CSR has stopped talking and luckily caught the last part of what he just said.* "Well, I do think that makes a lot of sense, CSR. I'll have to try that today."

CSR: *Baffled. Dumbfounded. Does not know what to do. Has been practicing possible objections in his car all morning and this "agreeable" response was not something he was prepared for. Takes the lid off his coffee and peers inside the cup to buy some time.* "Well, that is wonderful Dr. Black. I have been trying to win this big trip with my company and I really needed that 2% of your patients." *Self-satisfied smile again. Nice recovery and applauds his honesty. Honesty is always the best policy.*

Dr. Black: "Well CSR, I'd better be going. Thank you so much for the latte. I had to go with my regular order this morning, but when you bring me my vente tomorrow, bring me the one you ordered. What did you call it again?"

CSR: "Tiger Lily Spiced Latte, extra sugar but hold the whip. They are really great. I owe all my success to the Tiger Lily Latte." *Shakes Dr. Black's hand and goes back to his car to log a few "no-signature" calls. He also leaves the following voice message for his teammates:

"Hey Little Rock Road Runners-- this is CSR and I have a success story to leave with all of you-- My relationship has just reached its peak with Dr. Black. I've been really working on him this month and as we sat down to our morning coffee, he agreed to write Drug X for 100% of his patients. I will be available tonight if anyone wants to talk one-on-one about this victory and how to do this in your own territory. Make it a great day and good-selling!"

Meanwhile Dr. Black returns his nurse's call that he missed during the coffee-sales pitch: "Marie, yes, I can make it to lunch with Drug Rep B. And please tell Drug Rep C that I will see him this afternoon at 2:00. Tell him I said, "Go Hogs." Also, please make sure that the check from Drug Rep D is deposited into my special account and call Drug Rep E for samples. I'll be back to the clinic in a few minutes."

Leanne: *Wry smile* Please excuse my exaggerated re-count of that pharmaceutical masterpiece. This is not a true characterization of what the job is really like for a good sales rep-- but you have to admit that there are a lot of CSR's out there and it's just so hard not to poke fun at it them sometimes. But a quick note to CSR-- I wouldn't have been able to make fun of you today if you hadn't been talking so loud!

Keeping out the Tiger Lilies

The azaleas are beginning to bloom in our front flower bed, but you can barely see them thanks to the unyielding efforts of the impatiens that are still holding their own from early spring. The majority of the impatiens are a deep magenta, with a few coral and white buds resurfacing from last year's batch. They are so large and beautiful that they almost look like brightly polka-dotted bushes.

In fact, I've taken such care with the impatiens, that their fullness is actually a little overstated and it's obvious that I let the miracle grow flow as freely as the rain did this summer. They almost seem unnatural. But I continue to get compliments on the front bed and I have resisted the urge to plant my fall pansies which should last throughout the winter.

Similarly, thanks to the sole efforts of my husband, the grass in the front is as lovely as the ruff at Augusta. To the swelling pride of us both, we even had a neighbor remark that he would love to take a chipping wedge to our front yard.

And now to the back yard. 18 months ago, our back yard was in okay shape, but never being happy with good-enough, I decided that it needed an artistic touch. I bought a climbing mandavilla which was planted in a big pot and let it stretch its way across my deck. The mandavilla is a tropical flower and something that I had never grown before, but with the heat and a little water, it began to grow and bloom. I helped it spread out by tying some of the vines to the deck posts, guiding its path here and there. Aside from the bird's nest that was being rebuilt by a mama robin for her spring babies under the overhang of the roof, the mandavilla was the shining star of the back yard.

The grass was also in okay shape-- save one persnickety little spot that just wouldn't grow any grass. We fertilized, we watered, we even had a professional lawn service take a look at it. Finally, surrendering to the mystery of horticulture and not having the patience for this inconvenience, we decided to see if the health of the rest of the yard would soon overtake the brown patch. With a little patience and perseverance, we thought we'd have something as beautiful as Amen Corner in our back yard, too.

But as much as my impatiens flourished and spread in the front, the grass began to die with equal tenacity in the back. And the more it died, the less I tried to fix it. And truth be told, I never really tried to fix it, I just complained about it to my husband. I complained that we weren't getting our money's worth from our professional lawn service, I complained that it was ugly, I even quit picking the weeds that grew despite the lack of grass. And then, I let my mandavilla die. To punctuate the backyard's decay, I left the skeleton of the mandavilla tied to the deck for months.

It surprises me that the problems we're having in the back haven't surfaced in the front. But in truth, I have sure spent more time and effort on the front. The only hint of my inadequacy as a gardener, ironically, is the impressive size and success of the impatiens. Like I said, they look almost too big, unnatural, artificial. And their lack of authenticity is beginning to overshadow and stunt the growth of the beautiful azaleas. Pretty soon, Tiger Lilies will begin to bloom in full force. Something I've been worried about for a long time.

So starting October 1st, it will be time for some pruning of the front. Actually, it will be time for a slash and burn. It won't be pretty at first, but I hope what will result will be even more beautiful than the impatiens. And more importantly, it is time for some real attention to the back. And I'm making the time. The back yard is not glamorous, people won't compliment me for it, but I know I need to do all of this to maintain a healthy yard, both inside and out.

I'm pretty sure that the Tiger Lilies were just beginning to reach the surface in the front, despite my miracally-grown impatiens. But I've made up my mind. I'm not going to let that happen.

I am a good gardener. I know it. And honestly, this is way more about me than the yard.

Special thanks to my mother and my husband for helping with all of it, and for helping with all that lies ahead. On to greener pastures. Literally.

The BOOMER Outcomes Trial (Abstract and Commentary)

(The following article was published in the TIGER LILIES Journal for its absurd nature, author's baffling strong relationship with Boomer parents and the uninformed nature of the content.)

Non-Randomized, but largely intentional dominance of Boomer generation's opinions applied to health care debate and plausible resulting outcomes.

Leanne Deason, M.D.* and on behalf of the Generation X and Millennial Generation Study Investigators

Abstract

Objective: To determine the causes and outcomes of the Boomer Generation's dominance in the current health care debate, and to provide possible prevention measures.

Research Design and Methods: The BOOMER Outcomes Trial is purely an observational trial in which investigators have merely observed current trends in Baby Boomer behavior and concluded by giving their opinions as to the negative implications for later generations. The investigators of the BOOMER Outcomes Trial would like this to serve in the prevention of the total annihilation of Generation X and Millennials' futures.

Warning: If you are over the age of 50, the reading of the BOOMER Outcomes Trial may be hazardous to your health. It may cause an unnecessary increase in blood pressure and high levels of furiousness. Contact your doctor right away if you feel that this trial has "hit a nerve" or caused you difficulty in thinking clearly. If you are pregnant, plan to become pregnant or are breast-feeding, read on; you are probably young enough to handle the following truths about the Baby Boomer generation.

Results: Of the 76 million Baby Boomers, many have whined, cried and yelled their way through the national health care debate. Cigarettes in hand, and with the power of numbers and the almighty AARP behind them, they will decide to have their cake and eat it too. Seen here is a brave Gen Xer who risks job-loss, family excommunication and general humiliation if she continues to hold up her sign of civility.

Brace yourselves Generation X and Millennials, the impending and hefty Baby Boomer medical costs we will be obliged to absorb may come as a sucker punch from parents who "coddled" us into existence and even babied us through adulthood.** According to the Boomers themselves, we are not prepared for the grim reality that faces us in the near future. The cold hard truth: Boomers are shaping the health care plan to take care of #1. And we're going to pay for it.

Commentary

Here's how Boomers have managed to bull-doze the later generations:

Generation X and Millennals have been unfairly characterized as lazy slobs who feel entitled to everything. Check out this story from CBS written about Millennals in the work force. The Boomer advertising executive quoted actually has this to say about how to speak to Millennials:

"You do have to speak to them a little bit like a therapist on television might speak to a patient," Salzman says, laughing. "You can't be harsh. You cannot tell them you're disappointed in them. You can't really ask them to live and breathe the company. Because they're living and breathing themselves and that keeps them very busy." Later she expands: "These young people will tell you what time their yoga class is and [that] the day's work will be organized around the fact that they have this commitment. So you actually envy them. How wonderful it is to be young and have your priorities so clear. Flipside of it is how awful it is to be managing the extension, sort of, of the teenage babysitting pool."

This story made the investigator's blood boil. The lazy-entitled nature of the Millennals is something that is now widely accepted as fact thanks to this type of propaganda being shoveled by the Boomer generation. While many highly productive, Gen Xers and Millennials work hard at their jobs, (aka: being babysat by a highly-superior Boomer) they can't shake this unflattering characterization which is being used against them to set policy. Seen here are Boomer town-hall attendees who vote in favor of "sticking it to these lazy, Millennal SOB's."

Further observations in this study lead to the following evidence: Boomers control the media. Brian Williams, NBC- age 50, Charlie Gibson, ABC- age 66, Katie Couric, CBS- age 52. The list goes on, even the lead-cast of the Today Show: Mereditih Vieria, Matt Lauer and Ann Curry qualify for a senior citizen discount.

Additionally, the senior special interest group, AARP, has ramped up their pro-Boomer efforts with their "Divided We Fail" and the "Assault on the Truth" campaigns. As complaining about the Medicare Donut Hole gets passe, (the portion of the Medicare Drug plan that they actually have to pay for), they are now showing commercials that depict "special interest groups" barring them from medical treatment. In the commercial, an ambulance, no doubt carrying a Boomer, is diverted from its route to the hospital by Millennials driving the "speical interest" cars.

Obviously, a Millennial is driving the "special interest group" car because no Boomer could maneuver a car like that anymore.

Possible Preventative Measures

The investigators would like to point out that they do not know how to remedy the health care crisis but will be brazen enough to suggest a few possible improvements that can be made:

1. Boomers, Gen Xers and Millennials should all begin eating healthy and exercising.

2. Boomers, Gen Xers and Millennials should all except that health care is going to cost and it's probably going to cost a lot.

3. Boomers, Gen Xers and Millennials should accept responsibility for themselves and not push it off to other generations.

When the investigation committee asked two Boomers what they thought of these suggestions, they responded with a simple:

* M.D. just stands for mostly distressed.

**These facts have been given by Baby Boomers and are not corroborated by later generations.

I Already Cased the Joint: A Public Enemies Movie Review

“This is a stick up! You and your broad get over there you mutt, I’m taking your money, see, and even though this movie ain’t too swell, you’re gonna’ say you like it, or you’ll be pushing up daisies!” Director Michael Mann of Public Enemies.

Was that over-the top? Did I throw in way too many mobster-sayings? Did it sound cliché? Were you waiting for Bugs Bunny to jump out and chomp on a carrot? Well if you said yes to any of these questions, you might skip Public Enemies this weekend.

Despite its amazing cast of characters, a good story and the possibilities of fantastic set and costume design, Public Enemies left me scratching my head. What was it about this movie that made it virtually impossible to achieve a suspension of disbelief?

It wasn’t the plot. The story delivered.

John Dillinger, a notorious bank-robber of the early 1930’s, breaks his buddies from an Indiana jail in the opening scenes. He then goes on a crime spree in Chicago, robbing banks like a gangster should. A team of men, in dapper suits and fedora hats rob big banks in mere seconds with Dillinger at the helm and a get-away-car waiting outside. There are oozies galore and a bit of blood and guts, but it’s not too gory. With characters like Baby Face Nelson and Pretty Boy Floyd on board and a beautiful “black bird” female-love interest to spice up Dillinger’s down-time, I really enjoyed the story.

Character-non-development? Although the character development left a few stones unturned, this wasn’t the problem. We don’t really care why Dillinger did it; we just want to see him do it!


As history remembers him, The Robin Hood of mobsters, Dillinger refuses to take the bank customers’ money, instead only stealing from the bank vault. What a saint! The movie enlightens the audience to only one thing about Dillinger’s childhood—that it was abusive—and we learn nothing of his adult life before robbing banks. But we know this: he’s funny, he’s charming and he’s popular with the ladies, enough for me.

Maybe it was the acting. Or the over-acting of one particular actor—Christian Bale. Yes, this is part of it, we’re getting closer.


Coming off of his blockbuster Batman hit, Bale is a rising star despite his off-screen tantrums. Cast as Melvin Purvis, the FBI agent who lives to bring down criminals and was appointed by J. Edgar Hoover himself, Purvis is not a character-stretch for Bale. It’s almost as if he’s being type-cast as a good-looking justice seeker. (Anyone remember his break-out performance in Newsies? That’s when I fell in love.) But this time, Bale doesn’t have a Batman mask to hide behind and his depiction of Purvis is so intense and over-the-top that you begin to wonder if Bale’s good-guy performance is being pulled from the pages of a comic. I think he even uses the “Batman voice” a few times.


Was it Johnny Depp?

No. He was amazing.

Was it the cinematography or the lack of set and costume-design? Yes. Yes. And Yes again.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. And then I had to hide my eyes because I thought I was going to be sick. It wasn’t quite as “wonderful-nauseating” as a Borne film, and definitely not as Blair Witch grainy and intentional-amateur-esque, but something in between. It was just a mess of awful camera work that made me sea-sick and left me laughing. Everything seemed fake. I couldn’t get into any of the action scenes because I felt like at any moment, we would see the geeky guy that made movies in high school pop out from behind the camera to make his Hollywood-director’s début.

Also, there were no special effects, save one, where an FBI agent decides on a slow-motion summersault through the air before shooting one of Dillinger’s cronies. And my favorite, laughable moment, is when Dillinger is awoken by gun-shots in his Minnesota hide-out. With Depp channeling Jack-Sparrow, the Director quickly cuts to Depp’s crazy eyes when he hears the gun-shots. (My movie-going friend and I bust out laughing in the theatre.) And without going into detail—the set and costume design was weak at best. Let’s just say it was no Atonement.


I blame the Director, Michael Mann for this potential Hollywood-blockbuster’s death. The obituary for this summer-movie could read: "Born to be a Hollywood Blockbuster, Public Enemies died an amateur-disappointment that left this world on the wrong side of equilibrium. Johnny Depp and Christian Bale are it’s only survivors." And then I’d lay a Tiger Lily at the gravesite.

So should you see this movie?

Absolutely. Ladies, if you can get both Johnny Depp and Christian Bale for the price of one Blockbuster-renter, I say go for it. But save your $17 bucks for a ticket and popcorn for Harry Potter. I’m sure it will have better special effects.

Arkansas and Oklahoma/Texas Face Off

Contrary to what you might think, I am actually a native Texan and not originally from Arkansas. I was born near Amarillo, Texas, later lived in the Houston area and then moved to Arkansas when I was 10 years old. After being raised in the Natural State, I gladly left home for the University of Oklahoma and later married a wonderful guy from Edmond—hoping that he would take me back there someday. And as crazy as it sounds, we still live in Little Rock and actually like it.

But as we have been traveling a lot lately, and I’ve begun to think twice about the land-that-I-love. After going to Texas two weekends ago for a wedding and then to Oklahoma City last week for a friend’s 30th birthday, I began to wonder what it was about Arkansas that we liked so much. For instance, if Arkansas faced-off with Texas or Oklahoma, which state would prevail?

1. Let’s start with the obvious: Sports.

What kills me is that people in Arkansas hate OU and the University of Texas. Arkansans even tell Aggie jokes which strikes me as completely ironic because the state is well-known for Tyson foods, Hogs and soybeans. But back to sports, who would ever question the dominance of OU and UT over Arkansas? Hell, as much as I hate to say it, OSU could even stomp the Hogs. I know Arkansas will occasionally win a hard-fought battle against these arch enemies who aren’t even in the SEC, but overall—if I’m being honest, this is a point for Oklahoma and Texas.

2. Targets/Shopping.

With a state as large as Texas, it is inevitable that the shopping is going to be better than Arkansas. So let’s just throw Texas out on this one, and focus on the shopping debate between Arkansas and Oklahoma. First, I think it is important to say that I’m not talking about designer shopping, because I’m really only concerned with essential purchases. And I could argue that most essential shopping can be done at a Target store. Except not in Arkansas. In the land of Wal-Mart, (Wal-Mart was founded in Bentonville, Arkansas) there isn’t even a single, solitary, Super Target. If I want to buy the creations of Mossimo along with an ear of corn, I’m out of luck. Even on the shampoo aisle in Edmond, Oklahoma’s Target I started to get depressed. Who knew there were more than five choices of shampoo and conditioner? Point to Oklahoma and Texas.

3. News coverage.

While in Texas two weekends ago, my husband and I learned of the conflict in Iran, and thank goodness. If we’d been in Arkansas, watching the local news, who knows what local grass-fire would have eclipsed this international crisis? To be fair, in Arkansas, local stations do cover national and international stories, but honestly, one station actually brags about only covering the local news, as if we aren’t insulated enough from the rest of the world. Yes, we have the Internet and wear shoes most of the time, but after watching a night full of Channel 4, you have to laugh as we perpetuate our own stereotypes. Point to Oklahoma and Texas.

4. Accents.

Most people who have never been to Arkansas would think that we have beautiful Southern accents. Designing Women and Gone with the Wind’s Tara come to mind. And then you hear an Arkansan talk. It’s this “Arkansas” accent that hits you right between the eyes and the terms, “hillbilly” and “hick” come to mind. Now, some people can’t help it. They’ve been raised here and while they might be well educated and very non-Hillbilly, the accent is just as unavoidable as it is distinct. Case-and-point: (And I am not making this up.) When traveling in Europe one summer during college, my travel companion and I were literally standing in the middle of the Forum in Rome. When suddenly, I was frozen in my Chacos, listening to the distinct and somewhat jarring sounds of an Arkansan speaking. I immediately told my travel-mate that I was sure those people were from Arkansas, and to make things even more hilarious and small-town, I knew them. It was my preacher, his wife and daughter. We had a nice chat with Mrs. Anne and went on our way.

To contrast, let’s examine the Texas and Oklahoma accents. Texas: I had a pledge sister in college from Panhandle, Texas. She had a beautiful drawl that everyone loved. It endeared us to her. The accent of this cattle-rancher’s daughter didn’t cause us to wince, we actually thought it was sweet. Oklahoma: Most people from Oklahoma are accent-neutral. In fact, it’s such an ambiguous accent that when my husband first went to training with his company in New Jersey, people couldn’t guess where he was from. Now, eight years of Arkansas later, his teammates are making fun of what he has accidentally absorbed. I said it was unavoidable. Point to Texas and Oklahoma.

5. Fun things to do.

Little Rock is the capital city of Arkansas and one of the largest cities in the state. We don’t have a professional sports team, or even a Cheesecake Factory, but we do have the Skatium. The one skating rink in the city is so hopping on Sunday nights that the police are called out to manage all of the pre-teens who take to the street. Some wander their way up to Wal-Mart to get a coke while others hangout at the snow-cone hut and make it a perfect weekend.

In Oklahoma City, they have an area called Bricktown which is quickly becoming Oklahoma’s version of the San Antonio Riverwalk. The Oklahoma City Thunder shoots baskets at the Ford Center and Billy Joel and Elton John actually had a sold-out concert in Tulsa. Snow cones on Sunday begin to pale in comparison to these Oklahoma and Texas attractions. Point to Oklahoma and Texas.

I could go on.

But as I write all of this, I begin to feel like a horrible person. After all, I defend Arkansas all over the U. S. when people make fun of Bill Clinton’s home state. Although Texas and Oklahoma are clearly the winners here, I’ll continue to pay that high Arkansas-state income tax with a smile on my face; I’ll faithfully save for my future-children’s private-high school education; and I’ll cheer for the doomed Hogs as they willingly enter into an eight year football contract with Texas A & M. It’s a pride for Arkansas that is unexplainable. Tiger Lily to Arkansas.

Lily-less

One of my favorite past-times is blogging- both reading and writing. I love it when I get a really good idea for a post and get exited when I open my Google Reader and have a menu of entries awaiting me. However, with the onset of the heat, a back-breaking schedule of school, work, travel and more work, I haven't really found any Lily-inspiration lately.

I'm Lily-less.

I'm not motivated to blog about Michael Jackson. It's only proper to make fun of someone when they're alive.

I don't want to point to the Iranian conflict and say "I told you so" to all of the readers out there that commented on my "Tweet Resistance" saying that Twitter is a fad, so I won't.

I considered blogging about the U.S. Open and Bethpage Black. But with Rocco, Tiger and Ernie all out of it there was no use. I need more excitement like a play-off, not a rain delay.

I need inspiration. I need time off. I need the air conditioner pumped up to the next level.

Miss Appointments

She fought tooth and nail for her rights to free speech while defying the pageant tradition of touting world peace and vowing to help starving children. She defended those racy photos where the photographer accidentally took picture after picture of her boobs. She pleaded with Donald Trump to save her Miss California crown, and now after all that controversy is behind her, Carrie Prejean has a blond moment. She forgets to go to her Miss California appointments. Trump was not as forgiving this time, and she was fired.

I am not only giving Miss X-California a Tiger Lily, but I am here to say that I am now officially irritated with her. Let's just run down her moments of brilliance from the last few months:

Statement against same-sex marriage during the Miss USA pageant: My reaction—So what, free speech. She should, however, be prepared to lose the Miss USA competition even if it’s not fair.

Nude pictures that were an “accident”: My reaction—Liar. An accident? Right. Especially because she changed her story when more pictures surfaced on TMZ.com that were obviously not an accident. She quickly pulled the, “I’m not perfect” card. Close call, Carrie! You should be thanking your lucky-porn stars that the men on the evaluation committee allowed you to keep your crown.

I can just imagine how that meeting with Trump went:

Trump: “Well Carrie, I can see by these pictures that you didn’t mean to pose nude. (wink, wink) My wife, who is also a model, is constantly having accidental nude pictures taken. You can keep your crown.” (Taps her on the butt.)

Accepting pageant-funded fake boobs: My reaction—who cares, tons of people have fake boobs that were given to them by people who now regret footing the bill.

Not appearing at her Miss California appointments: My reaction—totally ridiculous. After being scrutinized, criticized and demoralized on national television, you don’t bother to show up to work. Nice.

Carrie had such potential for a positive Tiger Lily. She could have received what would have been a Tiger Lily for being a fantastically outspoken beauty contestant who spoke her mind no matter what the consequences. But now, thanks to her lack of attendance, my Tiger Lily is awarded to the Beauty Queen that that made just one too many mistakes.

This Tiger Lily is dedicated to a friend that is one of my most loyal blog followers and just happens to be an x- killer-smart beauty contestant. She’s beautiful, poised and shows up to work on time.

Tweet Resistance

I am a huge proponent of all the new social media. Facebook is something that I've come to love and use every day. I joined Twitter a few months ago and obviously, I have my own blog. It is my goal to be uber-connected and cutting-edge. (I'm fighting the impending "out of touch" label that accompanies a 30th birthday.) My tweets feed to my Facebook and to my blog. My website connects you to my virtual portfolio then back to my blog. I have a wiki that explains what an RSS feed is and how to use it-- and my RSS feed is built within my Gmail account where I get Facebook updates. As soon as I can afford a video camera, I'll be posting my own videos on YouTube instead of just watching them. Not to mention Flickr.


To my surprise, there are many people out there that are resisting this new technology. They refuse to join Facebook, let alone actually post a status update. They make fun of the Twitter tweets and cling on to email like it's really something progressive. I actually had a friend that asked me over lunch: "What's a blog?" I couldn't hide my horror.

Let's just review a few of the great things in life that people resisted in such a manner:

• Elvis and the Beatles
• Women's Rights and the abolition of slavery
• Television, computers, cell phones and email

It's inevitable. This new technology is here to stay and much like the good 'ole computer, I think we'll be seeing more of the same. If you refuse to catch on now, you'll be so confused in 2015 that you'll be asking your 7 year-old to explain things to you. (Sound familiar to anyone that has shown their mom or dad how to work the DVD player lately, for the 40th time?) This is not just a passing fad like disco, it's more like the automobile-- it's changing the way we live.

One of the largest sources of information on the web is a wiki-- this means that the users are driving the content. CNN and Fox update the news through a series of blogs. John Mayer announces his relationship status via Twitter and even Michelle Obama updates her Facebook page. Please, if Oprah, in her infinite wisdom has joined Twitter, why are you resisting?

In fact, I would bet my next pay check that although you may have stonewalled Facebook and Twitter, you're already indulging in some of this new technology. I'm sure you've read an online customer review before you made your latest purchase from Target, Amazon or Zappos. Or, you've watched a YouTube video lately and passed it along to a friend. (Why is it that those that are dragging their feet with social media have seemed to really embrace the forward? Oh how I wish that would become extinct.)

So kudos to those of you that are on board. And for those of you that aren't, the time was yesterday. Look at it as liberation from being "fed" information from companies and news channels. Instead, real people, just like you and me, are giving you the news, the product reviews and a real look at Dominoes Pizza. And bonus, you get to keep up with your 100 friends from college that you don't have time to talk to over the phone.

Tiger Lily to those of you make fun of those tweets. The joke's on you. Things are changing and you're getting left behind.

Special thanks to Stone Ward SWIM for inspiring my technology Tiger Lily. If you are interested in getting up-to-date, check out the link.

Tiger Lily to Angst-- Sallinger Style

A Rare Re-Post in Honor of the Late Sallinger.

About two weeks ago, Matt and I went on a much-needed vacation to Mexico. I was looking forward to eating too much at our all-inclusive resort and basking in the hot Cancun sun while washing away the swine flu with every hand-wash. And as part of my normal vacation ritual, I brought along a couple of books to read. (I am on this kick where I'm trying to read classics.) So as I was browsing the "required summer reading" shelves at Barnes and Noble, I ran across The Catcher in the Rye.

This particular edition of the "American Classic" didn't have a synopsis printed on the back or on the inside cover and I decided to take a gamble. I had no idea what the book was about, but I knew it was a classic and the first page caught my attention:

“If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. In the first place, my parents would have about two hemorrhages apiece if I told anything pretty personal about them. They’re quite touchy about anything like that, especially my father.”

The story opens with a depressed and angry 16-year old named Holden Caulfield, who has just been kicked out of his third or fourth prep school. The remaining 100 or so pages follow his trip home to face his parents who Holden expects will be very disappointed with him, yet again. The more the story continued to do nothing but follow this kid, the more engrossed I became. I empathized with this "screw up" who was terribly whiny and foul-mouthed. And as he described every adult he saw as a "phoney," I began to adopt his cynical views and became a little unhappy-- even on vacation. If I hadn't picked up Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons before we left, I might be in therapy right now.

The more I tried to figure out why The Catcher in the Rye was such an American Classic, the more baffled I became. And now, after two weeks of reflection, I have decided that this story of a young man's angst must have been cutting-edge in the 1950's. I'm sure this book was banned not only for the language and the mention of "feeling sexy" around a prostitute, but also because no one in America would have wanted little Johnny to adopt such a negative outlook on life.

All in all, I quite prefer Ferris Bueller's teen-angst to Holden Caulfield's. While I can relate with both characters, Ferris provides a more playful and hopeful view of what comes next in life, where Holden just depresses the hell out of you.

In response to all of this, I have begun trying to really focus on the "glass-half-full" approach to life. That, and Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons has really brought me out this loathing for all mankind and I'm starting to recover. Tiger Lily to Salinger's teen angst; it has caused me to focus on being happy.

Roller Derby and the Deasons

On Saturday April 11th, I lost my Roller-Derby virginity in Tallahassee, Florida. (Please be warned, if you are going to be offended by sexual references, than this is not the post for you. And if you are easily offended but read on anyway- you can join me in accepting this particular Tiger Lily. I am awarding this one to myself.)

Matt and I went to visit my sister and her family over Easter weekend. My niece, five years old, spent much of the weekend playing with her Hannah Montana guitar. She serenaded us with The Best of Both Worlds all weekend which, ironically, is the best way to describe our visit. In the first world, we celebrated the holiest weekend in the entire Christian calendar. We shared jellybeans from the kids' Easter baskets, and even went to the Circus. In the second world, we went to the Roller Derby.

Let's back up. A few days before we flew down to Tallahassee, my sister called me to make sure that Matt and I would like to go to the Roller Derby before she purchased tickets. Obviously I was confused, because at first, I was under the impression that I would have to strap on some roller-blades and join in. My sister quickly assured me that I was not Roller Derby material and that we would be spectators only. Well, as you might have guessed, I was relieved and told her that we would love to go.

Now fast forward to Saturday night. Southern Discomfort (the name of the tournament we attended) started at 5:30 p.m. The actual match didn't actually start until 7:00, but the doors opened at 5:30 for us to claim our seats. We put our lawn chairs as close to the ensuing blood-shed as possible and went back outside the gates. I had on my new GAP t-shirt, matching bracelet with a cute little star charm and a preppy little white hoodie in case I got cold. I encouraged Matt to wear his khaki t-shirt with the pink piping, also from the GAP. He told me that he was worried he might look a little feminine and I assured him that he looked great. Obviously, I had no idea.

Back outside the gates, everyone enjoyed a few home-brought beers. I decided to hold out until I could get back inside, hoping they might be serving white wine, or at the least, margaritas, since I don't really drink beer. But as our tailgating came to an end, and we lined up to go back inside, I began to get the feeling that I didn't really have a good idea of what was about to happen-- and that I probably wouldn't be getting that glass of wine. I also began to notice that many of the soon-to-be spectators were wearing a lot of black, sporting some pretty cool tattoos and piercings and many had on "The Cure" t-shirts.

And then I saw them. The Roller Derby Girls. We had just rounded the corner where we could see the inside of Fairgrounds Building 2 where they had set up the make-shift roller-rink. Bitchie Cunningham skated right past me. She is the co-captain of "Capital Punishment," the name of the Tallahassee Roller Derby team. Her co-captain, The Great Wall of Gina, was close behind joking with Robin Cradles. They were dressed in fish-net hose, panties, helmets and knee pads. They looked pretty tough. Feeling a little GAPish, I pulled my hoodie a little closer.

We took our seats directly behind the Jacksonville Roller Girl's bench. Quite a seat, because I was close enough to read Anita HardOne's helmet sticker that said, "I Love Porn" and got to see Jenna Talls ice her butt after a bad spill. This was a treat because, like most of the Roller Girls, Jenna just had panties on over her fish-nets and let me tell you-- she has a great butt.

It only took me watching the girls skate one or two times around the rink before I understood the game. Each team has one Jammer and it is her job to score. They score by getting in front of the other team's Jammer. The "pack" of Blockers and Pivots take off a few seconds before the two Jammers to make scoring a little harder. The Blockers slam you into the wall and I still don't know what the Pivots do. But what I do know is this: Roller Derby girls are hard-core and I wouldn't want to make one of them mad. For instance, one Blocker, I think her name was Tackle Boxxx, had a little skirt on that said, "Talk Shit. Get Hit." She meant it. And I was hooked.

Capital Punishment beat the Jacksonville Roller Girls after three (or was it four?) periods of hard-fought jamming. I was having so much fun that I almost joined in with the crowd as they began yelling for one of the skaters, "Go Fat Ass Bitch!" In fact, I would have had the time of my life if only the toilets at the fairgrounds had been flushing. When I realized that my drink choices were beer or jack-and-coke, I went for a few of the latter and quickly needed more than one restroom break. Let's just say, the no-flushing was just a little outside of my comfort zone and I decided to hold it.

Thanks to my naivety, needing to pee really bad most of the night and the GAP outfits I dressed us in, I award myself a Tiger Lily for my inaugural Roller Derby. I'm on the hunt for the next Little Rock Roller Derby where I will mentally award a Tiger Lily to the "me" in the crowd. She will be so easy to pick out.