How crazy, one might ask? We don’t really have a Bourdain Insanity Spectrum in our back pocket (though that might be useful one day), but try this on for size:
Now I can’t go on vacation unless there’s an academy I can practice at. I rarely drink and I mostly eat consciously to keep a healthy body. I dream about BJJ most nights, vividly; I hip escape a lot in my sleep. A couple of times I’ve jumped guard on unsuspecting friends, to their understandable dismay. Sometimes, without realizing it, I start speaking with a funky, quasi- Brazilian accent (my husband finds this particularly disturbing). I have Zebra mats in my apartment. And a grappling dummy. My bedroom has
piles of Gis and rash guards and instructional videos in every corner. I’ve become a hoarder.
This is jumping guard. It looks useful for fending off attackers, and not for greeting friends:
That excerpt above also ignores the parts where she counts how many bones she’s broken/fractured, muscles she’s pulled, and shoes she’s stopped buying. (Not buying shoes anymore? The Grand High Ovary Inquisition hereby excommunicates you from Girlyness. May God have mercy on your soles.)
[VICE]