Sometimes I wish I had three hands...

That way, when approaching a blog, such as this one, in which I feel overwhelmed with the sheer quantity of how much I have to write about, I could not let my cigarette waste itself away in the ashtray while I type.

So.... I found out in the last couple of weeks that I am getting laid off on December 1rst. Kablammmo! I've been filled with all sorts of anger, frustration and wrath about that, to say the least. I was supposed to be employed until Mayish, which would've been great for my time schedule; have a little travel and then head off to my new life as a grad student. Instead, all of this stress has come up on me a month before my GRE, and I will be either without a job or possibly in a new job just in time for me to have a whole bunch of grad school applications due. My wonderful manager is trying to find me a job, which rocks; as does she, but I'm really quite freaked out about the whole situation; mostly because it shakes the foundations of the next nine months or so of my life, which involve great amounts of change and into which I had just settled with a feeling of confidence and happiness that my life was finally getting back on track. I'm just trying to convince myself that it will all be okay. And it will, I'm sure, but I'll just have to improvise a lot more, especially with my time and energy. Who knows; maybe it will be great; maybe I will have a job lined up for January, and I will get unemployment for the month of December and have a wonderful load of time to get all of my applications and recommendations in order. One can always hope, right? Maybe I should consider taking those two weeks off before starting a new job, if there is that option; or at least the first week of December. Herm... that might just be a great idea. But Hay-sus!! It's not what I needed right now!!!

I had my self-defense class again today, and it was once again amazing. Today we reviewed stuff we'd done last week, and learned some more techniques, such as how to fight off an assailant who is on top of you and choking you and spreading you legs to get between them and rape you. Then we had a "custom fight." This is a fight in which you can choose the scenario; you can choose to fight against some evil voice in your head, or you can reenact a situation that you have been in before, and make it turn out the way you would have wanted. The other specific difference about a custom fight is that you don't have to de-escalate the situation. It's an opportunity for you to say whatever it is you want to say to that person. You can cuss and scream and tell them what you really think and feel. Needless to say, it was really intense and personal. Especially because you got to tell the muggers (the assailants) what to do and what to say to you.

My fight was a mixture of external and internal realities. My mugger was one of the random men who treat me like a whore and a piece of trash when I'm just trying to walk down the street. He told me that I was worthless, that I wasn't anything except the way I look, that I couldn't achieve the things that I want to achieve because I was nothing but the way I look, and that I need to look this way because it's all I've got, and that you could tell, and that I do it on purpose. And I yelled back at him that he was wrong, that I am a worthwhile person, that I can do whatever I want to do. I screamed at him that he had no right to treat me that way, and that I can do what I want. And then he went in for the attack, grabbing at my hair and throat, and I fought back. I kneed him in the groin and I screamed and I was fighting and no longer crying, and I kneed him in the head and he grabbed my legs and I dropped to the ground and kicked him in the head and kept coming at him until he made the sign that he would be unconscious. One of my classmates, who was standing behind him, said that I made his head look like a punching bag, because I kicked him like six times in a row in the face; like that scene in Scary Movie 2 when they're parodying Charlie's Angels and the African American girl just keeps kicking Hanson in the stomach, triple speed, until her shoe burns off with the friction. Heh heh heh. Afterwards, I finished the fight and ran over, and I had those choking sob/sighs, and I was shaking and I felt so amazing, and all of the women were cheering for me. I was all cracked out on adrenaline and crying again and smiling the biggest smile of my life. This class is totally amazing. If any of my friends out there would like to come to the Public Celebration on Saturday afternoon, send me an email, and I will see what I can do. It will change your life.
And you know how I'm not partial to "hippie-esque" generalizations, so don't take that lightly. It will really change your life to take this class.
Whoooooooooooooooooooooooo-hoooooooooooo!
Heh. Just imagine what I could do with three legs....