Paper, paper everywhere, nor any drop of ink

Cheerleading isn’t a sport? Fuck that noise.

I usually love Jezebel, but this entry, "Just Because Cheerleading Is Hard Doesn’t Mean It’s A Sport," reeks of condescension and makes no attempt to discuss the place of cheerleading on a collegiate scale, or the development of collegiate women’s sports. 

And I was going to defend all the ways in which cheer is legitimate, but then I realized, wait: Cheerleading ISN’T a sport. Because if cheer was a sport, we would: 

1) have universal, enforceable safety regulations instead of rules that vary from team to team and school to school; 

2) make sure all cheer coaches were certified and equipped to safely spot tumblers and supervise stunts (since many are not); 

3) be recognized by the NCAA, as opposed to external organizations like UCA and NCA that do their best outside of school to give competitive cheer a place to grow and develop as a team sport; 

4) not unnecessarily conflate spirit squads (who cheer on the sidelines) with competitive cheer (which involves complicated aerial stunts and gymnastics); 

5) create space for more collegiate women’s sports teams, instead of replacing one women’s team with another; 

6) have access to on-campus practice facilities, athletic trainers, and medical resources; and 

7) not have to deal with condescending jerks about the whole thing.

THIS GUY. The 39-year-old gymnast has competed in 6 Olympics and 7 Ninja Warriors. Who cares if he didn’t medal in London; give this guy a prize for being a silver fox on rings. 

Thanks to the Fab Five clips NBC keeps playing, I now know what a Phillip Phillips is. Catchy song. 

Received a lovely end-of-quarter gift from a student today who said that I was the best tutor he’s ever had, and that he feels much more capable of expressing himself in English now. 
All I heard was “Macarons! Om nom nom nom.” (Kidding. I’m very proud of him too.)

Received a lovely end-of-quarter gift from a student today who said that I was the best tutor he’s ever had, and that he feels much more capable of expressing himself in English now. 

All I heard was “Macarons! Om nom nom nom.” (Kidding. I’m very proud of him too.)

Today I took a long walk off a short cliff. Literally. My palms are still sweating from the Fulcrum Adventures ropes course we tackled, but cripes, what an adrenaline rush. 
There’s a reason this particular challenge is called the Leap of Faith. If climbing up a rickety pole and leaping off a tiny wooden platform to catch a ring over 30-feet in the air doesn’t cure my fear of heights, I don’t know what will. Oh wait, maybe a 50-foot climbing wall, high wire cross, and balancing beam. Yeah, that’ll do it.

Today I took a long walk off a short cliff. Literally. My palms are still sweating from the Fulcrum Adventures ropes course we tackled, but cripes, what an adrenaline rush. 

There’s a reason this particular challenge is called the Leap of Faith. If climbing up a rickety pole and leaping off a tiny wooden platform to catch a ring over 30-feet in the air doesn’t cure my fear of heights, I don’t know what will. Oh wait, maybe a 50-foot climbing wall, high wire cross, and balancing beam. Yeah, that’ll do it.

Poptart looking a little remedial as she gears up for her first walk about a month ago. Thank goodness this tiny ball of concrete eventually decided she liked the outdoors. If only she didn’t routinely try to chew her harness off.

Poptart looking a little remedial as she gears up for her first walk about a month ago. Thank goodness this tiny ball of concrete eventually decided she liked the outdoors. If only she didn’t routinely try to chew her harness off.

Stopped by Stuntfest 2012 at the Santa Monica Pier on Sunday. It’s been a while since we’ve stunted, but I like to think we’ve still got it. 

Stopped by Stuntfest 2012 at the Santa Monica Pier on Sunday. It’s been a while since we’ve stunted, but I like to think we’ve still got it. 

"Dear Mr. Billingsley, it is with sincere regret that I will be unable to attend the ball, though assuredly it will be a most delightful evening at the manor…" 

"Dear Mr. Billingsley, it is with sincere regret that I will be unable to attend the ball, though assuredly it will be a most delightful evening at the manor…" 

Listening to Sleigh Bells is like going to an ironic 80s-themed party and unironically enjoying the shit out of yourself, dancing around in a neon headband and punching the air. 

Ever the latecomer, I only discovered the noise pop duo over the weekend via SNL — one of the most consistently funny episodes in a while, thanks to Maya Rudolph — and I’ve already bought both of their albums, the latter of which dropped a few hours ago (which makes me cool now, right?).

In a way, they remind of one of my favorite bands, OK Go, in that they’re both just so much goddamned fun. From the presentation to the catchy pop hooks, both groups have that kind of semi-hipstery self-awareness that allows them to not take themselves too seriously. And there’s something about not taking yourselves too seriously that gives you the breathing space to do something pretty cool, whether it’s combining ethereal vocals with power chords and 808s, or choreographing dance numbers on treadmills

There’s also something about SB and OK Go that appeals to my inner teen and outer dance fiend. I’ve only seen OK Go in concert (and by “only” I mean four times), but judging from the one-woman dance parties I’ve been holding in my living room, a la Alexis Krauss around 2:10, something tells me Sleigh Bells is even more awesome live. 

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some unironic air-punching to do. 

Mailed out the last batch of homemade holiday treats! Chocolate-covered honeywheat pretzels, white chocolate Oreo truffles, dark chocolate Oreo truffles, and candy cane fudge. 
Tangentially related: If I have any more sugar this week, I’ll turn into Buddy the Elf. 

Mailed out the last batch of homemade holiday treats! Chocolate-covered honeywheat pretzels, white chocolate Oreo truffles, dark chocolate Oreo truffles, and candy cane fudge. 

Tangentially related: If I have any more sugar this week, I’ll turn into Buddy the Elf.