A shrink frind of mine sent me this... it made me laugh.

Yesterday I DID NOT want to go to practice.

As most people know derby girls are not always warm and fuzzy cuddle bugs. And being the head ref means sometimes you bear the brunt of their frustrations. Don't get me wrong off the track they are great, but derby time means business. With everything that has been going on lately I have been withdrawing from friends and family. I think I have hit the depression stage. I may never get my stuff back from the government and it is not cool with me. Work has been sucking more than usual and all this stress is really making married life difficult.

Back to practice.

As the girls were careening around the track I found it suddenly therapeutic to call penalties and yell. I came out of that scrimmage happier than I have been all week. Thats what I do. I ref.

My friend Jess had her baby. Sebastian Nickolai.

Paul is home from the hospital and for once the law enforcement is doing something about this terror. So I am refraining from giving more info.

Grant is getting ready to enter the civilian world.

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As for the mess that resulted with our desire to escape the Military life I am going to try to put pen to paper and tell you how I felt.


It was a routine polygraph. No big deal. Then Grant did not come home till late. He had other people with him.

They came into my home. They handled EVERYTHING I own. And when I say everything I mean it. Closets were a mess, they went thru boxes I had not opened since I moved out of my parents home. My dresser drawers looked like they had been in the mixer. I cannot begin to tell you the level of violation I felt. They looked at my photos and negatives, read my journals. Every piece of privacy out of my head was exposed.

Searched our cars and storage unit in front of neighbors.

All in the name of national security.

In this respect I will say my husband is taking a better attitude. These circumstances to me seem to go against everything I ever thought America stood for. It hurts. I have made no secret of what I think of politics and the current regime. This has only served to solidify my opinion. We are being kept in the dark all for cooperating with them.

I am so ready for this to be over. I am tired of the uncertainty.

Friends, Family. We are coming home. Maybe not to Oklahoma but to a state that borders it at least. We love the weather too much. If this month has shown us anything it is that family needs us close. Grandparents are not growing younger and healthier. Neices and nephews need a uncle and aunt. Our Aunts and Uncles need our help. And our families need us there to help make the family strong. So, yeah. Momma I'm coming home.

Saturday the Indian hospital in Claremore released Paul after saying he had a fractured skull. Stacey said Paul is covered with bruises and scratches from when the 7 drug his body to the highway. Paul is in St Francis with contusions on the back of the brain. His wife Stacey forced him to go after he was vomiting blood. Now he is checked in and we are waiting further news.

My Brother in law was attacked late Friday Night. 7 males attacked him while he was alone. They knocked him unconscious and dropped a 50 lb chunk of concrete on his head. Then they left him lying in the middle of a dark highway. Amazingly enough he has skull fractures and 4 stitches. No brain damage that has been found as of yet. Please keep him in your thoughts.

To things I have previously alluded to. I guess my husband and I have grown tired of the secrecy. So below you will find his blog on the matter. I shall add my own thoughts at a later time.
-Laurie






A couple of you have heard rumors about what's happened to me. I figure I'll just go ahead and clear the air once and for all. FIRST OFF....TULSA PEOPLE!!! WE ARE COMING HOME!!! Towards the End of October. (Jocelyn...this means in time for Halloween! ROCK!) I'm actively throwing resumes out right and left in the Tulsa area, but I think I have a line on something good. It's been way too long, and these coastal people are crazy and know NOTHING about good barbecue. Sorry folks, but you just plain DON'T.


On to the more depressing news. I think I would rather lay this out in a bulleted format.


FACTS:


-Until about a month ago, I was scheduled for advanced technical training for two months in Pensacola, Florida with a three-year follow-on assignment to Denver, Colorado working for a certain three-letter-government-agency.


-This assignment required me to go through what is called a counter-intelligence security polygraph exam. For those of you who only know about polygraph tests from what you see in the movies and on Maury Povich, forget it. There is not a giant meter hooked up to it that says either "TRUTH" or "LIE." A polygraph machine combines measurements of your heart rate, breathing rate, electrodermal conductivity (fancy schmancy way of saying SWEAT) and body movement. The combination of these signals is INTERPRETED-key word-INTERPRETED by the test taker, who then makes the determination as to whether or not that person is being deceptive. Stifle a fart, and they'll think you're a spy.


-The consensus view among scientists is that polygraph testing has no scientific basis.


-I "failed" my test.


In the aftermath of this "failure," I was submitted to more series of polygraph exams, which I PASSED. Due to certain admissions during the interview process though, NCIS became convinced that I attempted to sell classified information to a foreign government. I told them that I had THOUGHT-key word-THOUGHT about how I would go about selling classified information. Who hasn't walked into a bank and at least thought about how they would knock it off? Counted the cameras? Noticed a lazy security guard? These are mental gymnastics, nothing more. However, in the mind of the NCIS agents currently investigating me - this was a CONCRETE PLAN that I took action on.


WELL HOW THE FUCK DO THEY PROVE THAT IN THE LACK OF ANY EMPIRICAL EVIDENCE WHATSOEVER?!?!?


*regains composure* Ahem. They try to prove it by basically re-doing my security investigation OVER again. Talking to everyone I've ever come in contact with. In the meantime - My reputation is on the rocks, my computer and iPods are locked away in an NCIS evidence locker somewhere (yeah. They tossed my house.), I have lost my orders to Denver, and the bonus I would have gotten. If I decided to fight this and stay in the military, I have NO DOUBT that I could. After all, these guys are going to do their jobs and beat their heads against the wall for a few months before becoming convinced that I'm actually a pretty boring guy.



But is it worth it? Is it worth it to fight for my military career when my bonus is gone, I have a permanent black mark in my security file, and there's a solid chance I could get sent to fight the Great Republican Oil Expedition Brought to You By Halliburton Industries? Absolutely not. I am getting the HELL out of the military as soon as I legally can, growing out my sideburns, and never looking back. But I'm not bitter. As long as the United States has this lovely omelette called National Security, eggs will have to be broken to make it. I just found out I'm one of them.


Here's one final FACT for you:


-Aldridge Ames, one of the most damaging spies in U.S. History, PASSED multiple screening polygraph tests similar to the one I took. While he was selling classified information to the KGB, I might add.

Well I guess I can start this with the derby updates.

July we hosted the Beer and Diesel bout.



That was the last time Nigel Toughnails reffed for DDG. He is my mentor so it was an emotional evening. We had great guest ref's from DC Rollergirls (DayGlow Divine, John Dwaine Gacy and Deutsch Bag) and from River City Rollergirls (A-dam Ref).

The next week brought on a Spinal Tap themed Party for Nigel Toughnails.



So now Nigel is gone, thus making me Head Ref. My first Bout as head ref is Aug 26. (My Best Friend Lizzie's birthday)



Anyone know where I can get a Lucha Mask Cheap? (Preferably in Orange)

1. Thine house can never have too much Gatorade or too many pairs of fishnets.

2. Thou shall not ask if something died in my gym bag. (That smell is my pads and its comforting…seriously.)

3. Thou shall make your friends aware that if ONE more of them ask me if we skate topless, he's going to end up with a skate up his ass. (That goes double for the next person who asks if Derby is like professional wrestling.)

4. Thou shall not protest when I feel the need to post pics of my ass on the league's bulletin board, especially if the bruises on my ass resemble the Virgin Mary or any 'Different Strokes' cast member.

5. Thou shall remember for any birthday, anniversary, or special occasion, three words: Bones. Swiss. Bearings.

6. Thou shall not protest the fact that there are two league practices, one team practice, two committee meetings and endless hours on the bulletin board each week. (Just be glad that the girls and I haven't just rented a big house so we could be together all the time.)

7. Thou shall not attempt to use the bag of frozen peas from the freezer in any kind of meal. (They've spent more time on my ass than Victoria's Secret.)

8. Thou shall accept that I constantly refer to my teammate as 'Big Sleazy'. (I have not one idea what her real name is.)

9. Thou shall continue to swell with pride when you see me kicking all kinds of ass out there at the rink. Thou shall also remember to do us both a favor, and remember that feeling, next time I get poured into the house smelling like Blue Moon and cigarette smoke.

10. Thou shall be aware that I am capable of conversing on subjects other than Derby, I just don't want to.