Second quarter book report (2009)

Here's the next installment of my anal-retentive detailed review of the books I've read this year. Did I manage to improve on last quarter's total of 23 books? Read on. As before, the parentheses contain the genre of the book and the number of times I've now read it.

Key: F: Fantasy; H: Historical; Hr: Horror; M: Mystery; MG: Middle Grade (ages 8-12); NF: Nonfiction; SF: Science Fiction; SS: Short Stories; YA: Young Adult (age 13+); *not in the last ten years at least.

04/06/09: Neil Gaiman, Smoke and Mirrors, (F, SS, 1)
04/10/09: Sheri S. Tepper, The Margarets (F, 1)
04/11/09: Jane Austen and Shane Graham-Smith, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (H, Hr, 1)
04/11/09: Rick Riordan, The Lightning Thief (YA, F, 1)
04/14/09: Austen, Sense and Sensibility (H, 5 or 6)
04/16/09: Riordan, The Sea of Monsters (YA, F, 1)
04/17/09: Riordan, The Titan's Curse (YA, F, 1)
04/18/09: Riordan, The Battle of the Maze (YA, F, 1)
04/21/09: Various authors, Magical Beginnings (SS, F, 1)
04/26/09: J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (YA, F, 3)
04/27/09: Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (YA, F, 2)
05/01/09: Julia Barrett, The Third Sister (H, 1)
05/03/09: Jane Gillespie, Brightsea (H, 1)
05/07/09: Joan Aiken, Eliza's Daughter (H, 1)
05/08/09: Orson Scott Card, Seventh Son (F, >5*)
05/10/09: Card, Red Prophet (F, >5*)
05/12/09: Card, Prentice Alvin (F, >5*)
05/13/09: Card, Alvin Journeyman (F, 3)
05/14/09: Card, Heartfire (F, 2)
05/20/09: Carrie Bebris, Suspense and Sensibility (H, M, 1)
05/23/09: Card, The Crystal City (F, 1)
05/25/09: Norman Jewison, This Terrible Business Has Been Good to Me (NF, 1)
05/28/09: Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (YA, F, 1)
06/02/09: Stephen King, The Dead Zone (Hr, 3-5*)
06/07/09: Scott Westerfeld, Peeps (YA, Hr, 1)
06/09/09: Riordan, The Last Olympian (YA, F, 1)
06/22/09: Bob Woodward, The War Within (NF, 1)
06/25/09: Lois McMaster Bujold, The Sharing Knife: Horizon (F, 1)

Total: 28 books, five more than last time. You can see I slowed down toward the end of June, wading through the dense (but fascinating) Bob Woodward book on the Iraq war and my current read, Dante's Inferno. (Review coming soon.) Still, all that training on the stationery bike gave me lots of time to read, catching up on 7 current YAs, checking out some Austen analogs, and revisiting some of my favorite fantasies in order to check out the most recent sequel.

If I had to pick a favorite among what I read, it would be difficult; Rick Riordan's "Percy Jackson" series is a hoot if you love mythology; Scott Westerfeld's Peeps is a great, boy-centered antidote to all the Twilight vampire foolishness, and Pride and Prejudice and Zombies had me giggling nonstop. So a pretty good quarter on the reading front. We'll see if I can keep up over the summer with all the usual madness going on.

My gold medal day

I still have trouble believing those words: my gold medal. Me, a National Champion? In a sport? But all I have to do is look over on the table and see it sparkling at me to believe: I actually did it.

There were moments I wasn't sure it was going to happen. This week at Nationals started a lot like last year: I didn't perform as well as I would have liked in sparring, and ended up with a bronze. Last year I had high hopes for forms competition; I was trying this cool new form (for me), and everyone said I was doing it with lots of power. I made a couple of corrections, kept practicing, and went out and performed it without making any mistakes. When it came time for scoring, though, my marks were barely above average: 8.1s, for the most part, with a low of 7.9 meaning one judge thought I was below average. My total score was disappointing, in the low 24s, good enough for third out of four competitors.

I decided this year would be different. First of all, they changed the rules so that I only had a choice of two forms which I knew: Koryo, a first-dan form with which I've never been that comfortable (and never scored very well), and Keumgang, a second-dan form which I really enjoy, but which I'd been told never scores well because it has no kicks. (Instead it has several crane stances, which look really cool and show off your balance if done right.) Last year I didn't do Keumgang at Nationals, and ended up being outscored by someone who did do it—and not as well as I could have done it, I thought.

So this year when I started heading to several competitions, I thought I might as well try competing with it. I wasn't scoring well with other forms, so why not? And on my first try, at a competition in Milan, I won gold, for the first time since I made black belt. So I continued doing Keumgang at other tournaments, and kept getting gold medals, including one at AAU States. So I felt good about my form going into Friday's competition at Nationals. Still, I felt good last year, too, and ended up with bronze.

I didn't know how much or what kind of competition I'd have until I got to the arena. When they read off my bracket, there were five names, but only three ladies there. That didn't necessarily mean anything, because the missing ladies could have been out doing team forms. Five names means someone doesn't get a medal, but I didn't think that would happen to me. The one lady I did outscore last year was there, and I thought I could beat her again. The second didn't look super flexible (they always score well), unlike the third one, who finally showed up after competing in team forms. She looked quick ... potentially a problem. I put that out of my mind, and last year, and just thought about my own form. Finally, when they decided the fifth lady wasn't going to show, they took the four of us out to the ring. I was to compete last, which is always a good thing. Judges can hold back on scores if you go too early, so if you don't let yourself get psyched out by the competition, going last can be an advantage.

When there are more than a couple of competitors in forms, the judges always have the first three perform before they give out scores. So I sat and watched the first three perform, all doing forms I didn't recognize. The quick lady didn't look as sharp as I thought she might, and the other two were slower but had pretty good technique. They went up for their scores: quick lady didn't score well at all, getting a 24.7 total, while the second lady got a 25.3—mostly 8.4s and 8.3s, with an 8.5 in there—and the lady I beat last year got a 25.1. Then it was my turn.

I went in there and let my body take over. I have been doing this form for over three years now, so all I had to think about was making it sharp: keeping my shoulders straight, my hands tight, and landing my feet and hand techniques together. I was nervous, and felt myself quiver during the crane stances, but never let my foot drop. (Everyone says they looked solid, so it was just nerves.) I finished, then stood and awaited my scores. It started well: 8.4, then an 8.5, an 8.0 (only average?), another 8.5, and an 8.6. They throw out the high and low, so my total score was 25.4, a point better than last year.

I wasn't ready to believe it yet. Did I remember the other scores correctly? Was I right that the other girl had a 25.3? If we tied, they would throw the low scores back in; my low score was lower than hers, and that would mean silver. We lined up to bow to the judges, and they had us step forward in order. Quick lady, then last year's lady, then the third lady ... I knew I didn't finish below the other two, was it really true ... and then they pointed me into the first spot. The judge stood in front of each of them and called, "Fourth place ... third place ... second place ..." and then stood in front of me and called, "First place!" I could hear all the Olympian families in the stands behind me cheering. It was real. I won the gold.

It still feels a little surreal. I'll probably keep the medal in my gear bag for a while, just so I can remind myself, yes, you won gold at Nationals. In the meantime, I've got this photo to back me up; I think it can tell you better than I can just how great it feels to be a National Champion. And that's me, believe or not. I do.

photo by Brentwood Digital Photography

My road to bronze—once again, with feeling

It’s at the end of a very long and crazy* day that I’m writing this entry (although I’m posting one day later, because I don’t have free internet here at my fancy hotel). Although my result this year was the same as last year—a loss in my only match, meaning a bronze medal—I feel differently about it this year. A lot of things were the same: I didn’t sleep well the night before, I felt nervous going in, I had trouble with my asthma during the match. But a lot of things were different, too.

Last year I didn’t start training in earnest until January; this year I trained from the beginning of the year, starting in September. Last year I didn’t spar at any other tournament except States; this year I fought at three other competitions. Last year I weighed in at 142 pounds and change; this year I weighed in at just under 126 pounds.** Last year I obsessed about the draw and how many people I might spar, and when I went from getting a bye into the gold-medal round to gaining an opponent, it freaked me out a little bit. This year I tried not to obsess, and just told myself to worry about winning the first match. It turned out I had a bad draw—I was in a group of three and didn’t get the bye, and I’m sure I could have beat the girl who did get it, since I managed at least four points on the gold-medal winner, and she got a big zero—but them’s the breaks.

It’s been hot and rainy here in Fort Lauderdale, so when I woke up feeling a bit wheezy, I knew it didn’t bode well for my match. I was sluggish and I couldn’t move out of the way of the other girl, who left me with some really nasty bruises. (I’m icing the one on my elbow as I type.) Still, I made it into the second round, and scored a really wicked crescent kick to her face, knocking her back. (“You rocked her world!” Miss Laura said.) I just didn’t have the energy to follow up, despite the last few weeks of practicing two-minute rounds on my sparring bag. Result: a repeat bronze medal.

So while last year I had trouble sleeping the night following the match, going over in my head what I could have done differently, this year I think I’ll sleep fine. (For one thing, all the hotel shenanigans have left me exhausted.) I couldn’t help the draw, and I couldn’t help the wheezing. I trained as hard as I could, and I don’t have any regrets.

Besides, I still have forms competition on Friday, and I’m still aiming for gold.

*The craziness involved switching hotels; telling myself that grown women don’t cry in hotel lobbies when the room they reserved isn’t ready, even after an hour of waiting when all you want is a shower, some ice, and a nap; and getting sent to a third and upgraded hotel for free ...

**Since January, I’ve put in the time and effort to lose over 15 pounds, mainly by exercising every day (yay for indoor exercise bikes that let you read while your work) and eating more fruits and vegetables, especially spinach. I could go on and on about the whole weight loss aspect, but it’s not the main story, I don’t think.

Photo of the Week--6/29/09 (special TKD edition)

So I've been in Fort Lauderdale for over 24 hours now, and I've been sprinkled on four or five times as I've been walking around the Convention Center area. As you can see from the photo of the fountain near the center, the clouds keep coming through this area, bringing occasional showers. The forecast for the rest of the week is much of the same: highs around 90 with occasional thunderstorms. So much for "sunny Florida." I actually don't mind; if there's going to be high heat and humidity, some cool raindrops and 10 mph winds make it tolerable.

The convention center is air-conditioned, of course. That should make my match or matches tomorrow tolerable. My part of the competition should be over 18 hours from now. I checked in early today and got weighed in; I was well within my weight class, as the official, calibrated scales seem to show everyone a couple pounds lighter than they thought. (It's a conspiracy between the diet companies and the scale companies, I bet.) They called me back for a re-check at 3 pm, to make sure that my division—which is one of those with fewer than 4 competitors—wasn't decimated by people failing to make weight. It turns out I do have competitors, but I don't know whether there are one or two other people besides me. One other person means one fight, winner takes gold. Two people means someone gets a bye ... I'm not going to worry about it this year, I decided I'm just going to show up, fight the first match (and win), and then worry about what might happen next. Still, I have to admit the stomach is feeling a little twitchy.

So right now I'm just chilling, watching Wimbledon and surfing, before venturing out to find someplace with a decent salad bar. I'll have another report tomorrow night, hopefully with a picture of a nice shiny medal.

Not my job....

As I was driving down Ford Road today, I was contemplating the usual Road Kill Rodeo: raccoons (they must be the stupidest of animals, they're the most frequent victims), deer, squirrels, possum, etc etc etc. I was also contemplating the bright, new, yellow stripes and rumble strips recently placed down the middle of the road.

I also contemplated how at least three or four of those unfortunate animals now had double yellow stripes painted down the middle of their remains. The road workers couldn't be bothered to nudge the little corpses out of the way before applying paint to the road. I'm trying to give them the benefit of the doubt; perhaps the painting is automated and they can't see the carcasses to move them. If that's the case, shouldn't someone invent a cowcatcher-type device to reduce interference? Otherwise, some time in the near future there will be little animal corpse-sized gaps in the yellow lines, and that can't be good.

Still, on a hot and humid day like today I am very glad that road-kill picker-upper is not my job. If your curious what that job is like, and you've never seen the awesome show that is Dirty Jobs on Discovery, take a look at the first half of this video, and be glad no one has yet perfected Smell-o-Vision:

Beat down by acronyms

I'm not going to be posting much over the next two weeks. Next week I'm going to be in Ft. Lauderdale at the AAU Taekwondo National Championships, trying not to vomit competing in sparring and forms with all the other ladies old enough to know better. I'll probably have internet access, but maybe not much free time, between the competing and coaching and cheering my teammates and moving hotels and lying by the pool. I will try to report results as I get them, though.

As for this week, I'm struggling to meet a deadline for a project, one completely different than what I'm used to doing. Give me a biography or a historical essay and I can bury myself in research and come up with something fairly literate. This time, though, I'm writing a biography of a company ... and it's a company that provides IT services, so I have absolutely no background on the subject. I know what VoIP means (voice over internet protocol, that Skype thing), but I keep having to look up dozens of other acronyms: SBX, SIP, LDAP, IVR, CPBA—the list goes on and on. What's worse, half the time I look up the acronym, change the letters into words, and still don't understand what the heck they're talking about.

So if there's nothing new here, it's because I'm either puzzling out acronyms or kicking my sparring bag, trying to be ready for the next two weeks. Hopefully when I return in July, I'll have my life back—unless my editor assigns me another company that loves acronyms.

Photo of the Week--6/15/09

It may be torture on your bottom, but you can't beat seeing the Grand Canyon by mule-back. From this angle, you may think the path looks way too small for a mule (which is taller than you'd think) to traverse. It wasn't, but it sure felt that way during the switchbacks. I just had to trust him to find his way; in the end, the view was worth the acrophobia and the chafing!