Kicking Ass

The Fat Man keeps telling me that I kick ass. Partially it's cause I'm funny, a gamer, and walk around the house nekkid, but I also do kick a little ass. Karate is Tuesday and Thursday evenings. I have my brown belt in Shorin-Ryu, The Fat Man will probably be testing for his yellow belt soon. The local head of our style is Jiro Shiroma. He's this sweet little old Japanese guy, who could take out entire seminars of karate students. He's the one who gave me my brown belt, and complimented my kata.

The thing that makes Karate weird is that the guy who normally teaches class is my soon to be ex-husband. We both decided that we'd like to stay in touch, and we both went to karate, so we decided to try keep that up. The thing is, it can make things a little tense. I mean... I thought he would get annoyed before when I corrected something he was doing. Mental note: don't point out his deep stance is not so deep ever again.

See, I'm trying to keep things as normal as possible, which is difficult since I'm not showing up at karate with my new boyfriend (he had started coming before the split). But I'm pretty sure the soon-to-be-ex-husband is having a harder time of it. He initially told me he accepted the split was inevitable. That I had gotten married too young, and was too dependant on him. But since then he has told me in no uncertain terms that he believes I am making a mistake (kinda like what Mr. Wannabe has told me, but soon-to-be-ex-husbands have a little more right to be sharing that kind of stuff).

Karate will continue for now, even though things get a little awkward. The Fat Man will be testing for his yellow belt soon, and I will test for a higher brown, or possibly black, in the foreseeable future. It's good exercise, good for self confidence, and fun to hit things hard. I'd rather not give it up.