Last year Joan of Dark gave me a copy of a book called Post Secret. It began by a man who started a community project, handing out postcards to strangers and leaving them places people would find them, asking people to write down a secret they had never told anyone, and mail it to him. The response was overwhelming. I always wanted to send him one that said "I have a secret but it won't fit on a post card"

I have a Secret Room in fact. It's filled with things that I've never told anyone. I know it's there, but even I don't go in there. Every so often friends have knocked on it, or noticed it, but last night one of my Derby Sisters didn't just notice it, she kicked the door down, came inside and effectively said "What the hell is all THIS shit???"

I won't tell you the entire conversation but it was about sex, and lovers and it ended by her asking me why I looked so ashamed. Well, it's because I've got this Secret Room that no one knows about.

There's no locking that door back up again.

Here's what's in there.

I started this morning with a lot of crying, which moved onto writing Joan, then finally talking it out with another Derby Sister, and I want to write about it. All of it. Which ain't going to be easy but maybe I can clean out this room and get on with things.

I've always felt different even really young, than the people around me. I could never imagine being with a man, when we talked about being married I always said I wanted to marry a women, and of course got told THAT can't happen, you'll marry a man, which even then made me feel really WRONG.

When I was 11, the nasty next door neighbor started abusing me sexually. He made me promise not to tell, all the sorts of things child abusers tell their victims, only, I will tell you, you don't FEEL like a victim, you feel totally and completely responsible. And like no matter how much you wash, you will always feel him. It ended when he asked me to send my sister away and I said to my Mom he wanted to see me alone, could she keep my sister inside and later asked me what he wanted. I told her.

They called the police, he denied it, there was a trial, he was convicted. And then my parents told me never to talk about this, never to tell, never ever tell anyone. I didn't. We moved away after that to a new state, a new school where all the other kids were REALLY different than the ones I grew up with, and of course, I felt really different than any of them.

I found Figure Skating. Spending hours on the ice before and after school made feeling so alone at school, and at home much easier. On the ice, I knew what I was doing, I was in control, I was beautiful and I could put every little thing into jumps, spins, and movement, and get praise, support and applause for doing it.

I didn't have to think about things. Didn't have to confront the fact that things were REALLY bad at home, I didn't know why then, but my mother was an alcoholic sinking deeper and deeper into that muck.

They divorced, she left my three sisters and I with my Dad. That ended skating. Music took it's place, I learned the Violin and listened to music in my room every night for hours, and wanted more than anything to do nothing but play music for a living.

I still saw my mother, but she really didn't seem like a mother and had pretty much decided I was her "friend" she could confide in, talk to come to for help. She'd take me with her to parties, bars, and her main goal seemed to be attracting male attention, and she would tell me how to dress, what men found sexy. I remember quite clearly her telling me one night when she had a date over "be nice to him, he's rich". He didn't spend the night looking at her.

Another night when she was too drunk to drive home, she sent me to stay with another man she liked who took me back to his place and raped me. Of my virginity. I will tell you, it doesn't have to be a stranger with a gun in a back alley for it to be rape. And it doesn't have to involve violence. And oh yeah, you feel like it's your fault, even tho you said no, over and over. And you're really ashamed and you never ever tell anyone.

By that time school REALLY didn't seem to have a point. Reading anything and everything I could did, but classes? The other kids? When you have this many things you can't talk about you can't pretend after a while. You lock it all up in a Secret Room and leave. I left high school after 10th grade, aced the GED and started going to University, but I had no idea what I was doing.

Surviving.

At 18, my Dad told me I didn't fit in with him and his new wife and family and I'd have to leave. He told me I would never make it as a musician and I was living in a fantasy world that was going to crash down around me.

I left. He was right, I didn't fit in. Spent some years working and hanging around the music scene in Minneapolis, but got out when my friends decided heroin was the new cool. I met some people at a bar one night who worked at the Renaissance Festival. I'd started listening to alt Irish music and fell in love with it.

I remember quite clearly walking down an alley with them that night, on the way to an afters party and stopping and saying "Hey I don't know any of you" and a big handsome man looked down at me and said "Don't worry, we're cool" and I believed him completely. And they were.

I gave him my heart and had a boyfriend for 5 years, and didn't think too much about the fact that I never seemed to want to have sex, or feel anything when we did. I didn't think about the Secret Room. I met my new best friend Betsy, who I met because she was ALSO dating my Boyfriend, the fact that it didn't bother me ought to have told me something.

I met my Boss shortly after that, and moved away to be his assistant, and learned about family, and love and work, and was finally for the first time, working with my brain and doing something I loved, with a writer who gave me more love and support and friendship than anyone ever had. I formed bands, got good at music, started gigging, and leaned that being on stage was the safest place in the world. And I didn't have to think about sex, or a lover or why I couldn't seem to have one.

I don't drink anymore, and I've written about that. Let's just say I did drink, a lot, and it was a really fine way of hiding from the Secret Room. For a while. Until it bites you in the ass.

I think it was during this time the light bulb finally went off in my head and I thought, "HELLS, was this the problem??? Girls? Really? ME?" Yup. I wasn't dead, I could have those feelings. But with another person? A lover? Noooo. Way to scary. Let another person see me, touch me, tell them what I wanted? HOW????? Where do people LEARN this stuff????

Last night one of the questions my Derby Sister asked was "have you ever even had sex with a women?" Had to say no, it was really hard, I mean, who wants to admit this? I felt ashamed, scared and kind of like a failure and loser, that this was something I couldn't do, something most people take for granted as a normal healthy part of life.

The Derby SIsters have been knocking around this door since I met them. Derby is not shy, refined or afraid of doing or saying anything. They tease me about my nearly complete lack of sexual knowledge, which is generally funny, but sometimes deep down I'd get the feeling that I really wanted to talk about some things and figure them out. Which I've been doing in bits and pieces, including looking at that Secret Room and wondering if I'd ever have enough courage to look inside.

In Derby not being touched is not an option, and now, for the first time ever in my life, I can let people touch me, both literally and mentally. I'm not afraid to say things out loud.

You can't know what it finally feels like to feel NORMAL. And right.

And to look at these things that happened and say: THEY failed. Not me.

I owe my Derby Family a LOT. Those women are the most amazing wonderful, supportive, loving, SAFEST women in the world. They'll knock you down on the track, yell at you, tell you in no uncertain terms exactly what they think of you, say anything they want out in the open…. and have your back forever.

I owe them most tho for being the ones who got into the Secret Room.

This is that room.

It's not so scary now.

And it's not Secret anymore.

Love, Quiche MeDeadly

Mostly this is what it looks like at the Spooky House these days, some number of Bengals lying by the fire on faux fur. Or in Mim's case, my bra. Every so often they'll have a prowl around, or a yowl for food (actually, more like SCREAM BLOODY MURDER for food. Often) Sometimes they'll get ambitious and say, gnaw off half the antenna of my new stereo and bring it to me to play with. (Thank you, Venus) but mostly, it's all about the fire.

Today tho, it was still in the 40's when I got home from work, so we decided to nip outside to the Leopard Lounge for some Snow Leopard Time! Mim, apparently, went immediately feral. The Leopard Lounge even has a sign now, courtesy of my Derby Sisters Stunt Double and Slam'er (the ones who BUILT the Jungle Gym, remember? Handy sisters!) but I haven't managed to actually HANG it yet, not being handy, it will have to wait until next time.

Venus seems a little shell shocked, and clearly does not approve. She had a bit of a climb then went back in, declining to be a part of any more photo/video ops. I don't think she is FOND of winter, she's been really picky about her food lately crying pathetically, as only a Bengal can if she is served BEEFY BITS on a day decidedly marked for FISH MUSH. She's also taken to flipping the food off the plate and around the kitchen. Go Venus.

Of all the three, Magic likes being out in the snow best of all. Doesn't bother him, he's all over IN the snow and on the Jungle Gym. Adventure Kitty!!!! Watch a little video of him and Mim climbing about.

Yes. Indeed. That IS what I have for a photo today. I know, some days you get lucky, and some you don't. Make do. That's me, by the way, here in my office with what I like to call "Really funky hair"

In keeping with this new Blog More format (heh, good job I'm doing, eh?) I thought I would get a new post up today. The only thing that is coming to mind is the recipe I spoke of on FB for the Peanut-Lime Dragon Dressing that many people seem to REALLY want. It is pretty tasty, if I do say so myself.

I thought about waiting, because who builds an entire blog post on a salad dressing with no photos except one wild looking lady, but then I recalled it's BOUT WEEK and we, (Chippewa Valley Roller Girls) Bout on Saturday, which means I don't really have any time, and anyway, I'll be too tired Sunday.

Speaking of Bouts, did I ever share this picture with you? I don't think it ever got posted anywhere. Here, for you, a bonus as it were, for reading a blog about Salad Dressing. Things like this happen all the time at Bouts, which is WHY you ought to go to one, if not mine, someone else's. (But if you live near me, hey, come see me Saturday. Bring salad.)

Derby so rocks.....

Where were we? Right. Peanut Lime Dragon Dressing. Sort of more or less based on a recipe from THIS cookbook, one of my favorite vegan cookbooks. I never exactly follow recipes so you'll have to either buy the book if you want it exactly, or get creative on your own.

Take a handful pf peanuts and pop 'em in a blender (or food processor, if you are so inclined) and then some shallots. I didn't have any shallots and am a little vague on what they are anyway, so I used spring onions.

Add some lime juice. I did about a lime and a half, which might have been a little over-lime-ing. And some water. Good question. The recipe says "1/2 cup" but since I haven't told you any other measurements, does it really matter?

Next comes "Agave nectar". Right. Like who has THAT in the pantry?? It's not real good for you anyway. I used honey on the theory "nectar" is sweet. Add some.

Soy sauce. Need that one.

And Siracha. This is a hot red sauce. Very tasty, but be kind of careful, I think this is he "Dragon" part of the dressing. TOO much might not be a GOOD thing.

Blend the heck out of it. Then add some more peanuts and "Pulse" it a little. I believe this makes little "crunchies" in the dressing.

Taste it. If it doesn't taste wonderful, well, you've done SOMETHING wrong. Keep adding more of one thing or another until it is wonderful.

For the salad, if you're still curious (or hungry) I did romaine lettuce, cold rice noodles, pea pod things, water chestnuts, shredded carrot and bean sprouts.

Very nice indeed.

Love and Dragons,
Quiche MeDeadly

As promised: The long awaited Gun Blog! First off, all the pictures are by Kimm Schroeder (AKA SD or Stunt Double) except for those OF Kimm aka SD, which were by Amy Crownhart (AKA Arm & Slam'er or Slamer) (Read it a couple times, it will make sense.)

The second thing about the Gun Blog here, or what I call for short "The Day I Learned To Kill" is that I've been working with someone all week who has a decided preference for old Country Music, and it's, er, rubbed off, so I am writing this listening to my new fav radio station. We'll call it "Twang 100.1" Never written to music like this and I may have things to say, as they come up...

Let's get started. First picture up there: Those are bullets, they come out of the gun. You don't want to BE where they land. They eject shells too, which can go straight down your cleavage. This is less serious, but definitely something new. Don't wave your gun around when this happens, tho.


Here's my first shooting. As you can see: Dude is DEAD. Yeah, I'm that good at this. This was shot with the long Gun which is either a rifle, or a shotgun, I get them mixed up. There weren't any pictures tho where I felt I looked sufficiently BADASS tho, so you'll have to imagine.

(Twang 100.1: I'm sorry you're in prison for something you haven't done. Sucks not to have a good lawyer)


This is the short Gun. There were two kinds. This is the kinder, gentler version. Liked it. Didn't do as well killing my Dude tho. He doesn't have LEGS there on the target we were using, but I sort of mentally drew it in and GUESS what I shot OFF??

(Twang 100.1: Streams don't have Islands. Rivers can. The best a stream can hope for is a sandbar, and even if it DID, you could pretty much just walk OFF if it was a problem.)


Here me loading my own bullets into, hmm, the bullet holder thing. I should mention that this was an adventure clearly led by my Derby Sisters SD and Slam'er, both of whom know exactly what they are doing in regards to guns. It wasn't a "Hey let's learn this together" sort of MISadventure. As a matter of fact, the more I spoke to people about shooting this week, the more it became clear that I may be the ONLY one in this state who does not in fact, own multiple firearms.

(Twang 101.1 If you're sitting all alone in the dark, lonely and crying for Gods sake, turn on some lights, watch some tv, call a friend, go the heck out. Sheesh)


There's Slam'er, who never has any problem looking sufficiently BADASS. (Ever. Actually. With or without guns) She's shooting the other short gun. Thing has a kick to it. And it's really loud. I love the smell of gunpowder in the morning.

(Twang 101.1: I'm really sorry your dog died, but look they DO that. Get another. Sitting in the bar crying about that and crashing your pickup isn't going to HELP)


SD and Slam'er did a lot of explaining to me about the Guns. When you learn these things, you listen. Closely. And if it isn't obvious, if you want to learn these things, learn them with the best friends you have, it's as much about trust as anything else. Trust me.

(Twang 100.1: "you can leave me if you want to, go ahead and go girl, I'll be ok, I'll just sit here with my beer, dont' want to hold you back.." Alcoholic loser. Obviously she left you. Get some damm backbone.)



(Twang 100.1: "Sleeping single in a double bed" Ok. With you there, that does kind of suck, but sleeping double in a double bed isn't all roses either, you need at least Queen sized or it's kind of crowded.


Here's SD. She's so BADASS she can pause shooting, smile for the camera, and get back with hardly a break in the action. This would have been as true had the target been mobile. (this may be my definition of BADASS, having been unable to achieve it any way at all with the long Gun)

(Twang 100.1: "You'd better get your red head back into that bed" Hells YEAH!)



That's me there with the COOL gun. Liked this one. Might even be starting to achieve a sort of "look" Killed me some water bottles with this one, I tell you. My Dude wasn't dying quite as quickly, but no water bottles were walking away.

(Twang 101.1: Little Bity. Little Bity Everything. Rock. May cover this. Fiddles are EVERYWHERE all over the place in country music. This makes it, in many ways cooler than other music. No. You do not get to argue this point.)


Now, you can see them all. The three long ones. The two short ones. The cool one. I loved shooting them and can't wait to again. They're really powerful. They're poetry. Think about it, there's a lot there. They are also the person shooting them. Think about that too.

I feel stronger for it, and more determined. And that's carrying over. I walked away with a very sure feeling that what ever it is:

You can bring it the heck on. Watch me.

Love and Guns, Lorraine aka Quiche MeDeadly

PS (Twang 101.1: Mama tried. But boy oh boy, sure didn't work out for YOU now did it? 21 in prison doing life without parole??? What is UP with you people and lawyers???)

In the spirit of keeping with the idea that I am going to post more, here I am, nearly a Zombie, but writing down the weekend you've been getting bits and pieces of...

First off: Gig on Friday, with Paul and Lorraine. FINE time! Much rock was had, and I am really excited about New Years Weekend! We play both Friday and Saturday, and there are a lot of people I've been missing. The rock is back and both nights are going to be some serious fun. Please come down and be a part of us, either night. We're not playing as much as we used to, and it's such a part of what I am, that when I do get on stage some days, it's going to 11. Trust me.

I learned a LOT this weekend with skating and the first thing I learned was on Saturday morning. If I am going to do back to back Gig with Derby practice, I need to drink WAY more water. You don't think about it on stage, all the time, but your body sure knows it the next day. LEG CRAMPS!!!! You know the ones you get in the night sometimes? Imagine both legs only not just the one muscle, front and back, all of 'em. Never been so close to crying ever.

Worked that practice tho thinking, you'll be scrimmaging in Madison tomorrow learn as much as you can NOW. Leg cramps do go away. Do it NOW.

After practice, (and a quick nap on my part) we nipped down to Madison to see the opening Bout of the Mad Rollin Dolls season, GREAT skating! One of their teams, the Quad Squad, was the one we we were set to scrimmage the next morning.

Watched them skate. Oh gods...

The coolest thing tho, was that this is the team my friend Allie Gator, one of the best skaters going and certainly as good as anyone skating Derby these days is, was on that team, and the space we were scrimmaging at was the very FIRST place I'd ever put on Derby Gear and tried skating, with her, Joan of Dark, Jane Ire, and Fluer De Lys, a year ago.

Hang on, even have a pic of this moment..

And a year later. Back to the same space, scrimmaging them...With MY team. Chippewa Valley Roller Girls.

Getting ready in the same spot. Cool? Do you not THINK SO??? When I was there last, Joan and Allie and Jane held my hands, Fluer lent me gear, I skated for up to 2 minutes at a time before I had to rest. Uh-huh.

Wasn't sure I could skate Derby then but there wasn't an OPTION on this, they knew I could. Warming up this morning, watching the Quad Squad and my team, I knew there was no way I was nearly as good as anyone on this track, either team. Not false modesty here, I'm not.

But I was THERE. And there was no way I was going to let this one go by. Sometimes you just think, there are things in life that if you don't go the hell for it, you will regret it for the rest of your life. It doesn't MATTER what you feel tho, as long as you DO it. Trust me on this one, a little trial by fire never hurt anyone.

I learned so much. It was very like, in a lot of ways, that Flash Girls gig, opening for Warren Zevon, my third gig EVER, sold out show. We weren't READY, we had no clue what we were doing, but that doesn't much matter when it comes down to it, it matters if you DO it or not.


Playing music, I know and trust my bandmates, I know my instrument, I know I rock and can gauge an audience and rock them, making magic and KNOW this will work, which is something you learn from getting on stage a hundred times and experiencing.

Skating Derby, I am back to square one.

But I'm learning. And I trust my teammates. Did I rock this? Yeah. I did. I had a couple good moves. I was THERE. I got knocked over, I got hit, I fell down. And got up, caught the pack, went back in it, and did everything that was in me, the best I could do.

Did I muck it up? Yup. Sure did. Doesn't matter. I learned.

I posted on FB that all I wanted for Xmas was one good hit today on Allie Gator, and I got it. She let me, the moves were right, last jam of the scrimmage, there was an opening, she waited until I got into the right spot for the hit, I hit her. And it was a good hit, I did it right. (I love you Gator, since the day we met)

That means everything. Went to the box right after for a major forearm and cutting the track on the way to the penalty box, 2 min, but yeah, I did THAT ONE MOVE right.

And that's Derby.

Came home, fed the Bengals and aired out my pads. Can hardly move, so tired, it's hard to think. And yeah, I hurt. But I know what I want, I know what I need to work on, and I have a whole lot of people who KNOW I am going to do it.

Including myself.

And that's a pretty darn sweet feeling.

Love and Skating, Quiche MeDeadly

Today's post is on fashion. Not that you can tell from the picture, but it's all I have so Photo Booth it is for you. Been pondering fashion, specifically MINE the last few minutes since an epiphany hit me: Apparently my philosophy on fashion is this: Wear all the clothes you need for the day at the same time, right from the start when you get dressed in the morning.. You never need to change.

I just noticed this. I'm wearing Capri Workouts, topped by Little Black Shorts, topped by Track Leggings. In short THREE pairs of pants. (May be a new record) (For those of you in the UK, we're talking TROUSERS, not knickers. I have none of THOSE on, I mean, with all these pants? WHAT WOULD BE THE POINT???)

I also have on TWO shirts, a tank and a long sleeve. (Two bras for that matter as well, a regular and an inferior Sport Bra I like because it is hot pink, tho sadly, not enough to do the job on it's own)

White socks, not black, if you've been following along on FB, you'll know I lost all of THOSE in a bizarre hunting accident. (Actually the washing machine, just checking to see if you're paying attention.)

That's a LOT of clothes, darn winter, but the leggings and long sleeve take me into work, simply pull 'em off after and Ta-da! You're ready for gym! Handy. No pesky CHANGING,

And since I know some Missie Smarty Pants out there is going to ask, "Hey Fabulous Lorraine, what about PJ's?" Got it covered. Much like knickers, rarely wear 'em. As for saying , "Hey, Quiche MeDeadly.." instead of Fabulous Lorraine, (got lots of names now, never sure who I am), but "Hey, QMD" would be a Derby Girl, and I wish not to quote what SHE would have to say on the subject.

Speaking of Derby, it's Bout Week! Saturday night with the Chippewa Valley Roller Girls! LOVE Bout Week! This one is extra fun as Joan of Dark is coming to Bench Coach, Dill Hero to co-announce with Matt Black, The Birdchick is coming dressed as a Sexy Elf to, well, that is undetermined as of press time yet, but she'll be there too. And the Delavan Dolls are coming to Bout us, and the MN Jr Roller Derby to open the entire event.

Is this fun or is this fun??????

(only one correct answer. Hint: YES.)

I'll be dressed for it. You can be sure.

Love and Fashion,
Lorraine AKA Quiche MeDeadly

Well Hello there...Missed you. It's been like a tomb over here and I've got to take the blame on this one, it's just that sometimes, TIME is not there and I start thinking, tomorrow, and oh, I have a great idea for a blog, need to write that, and as soon as I get home...