Once in high school my brother tried to teach me some self-defense tips but the demonstration involved immediately putting me in some sort of headlock that made my wrist hurt and I didn’t want to play anymore. Once in college I found a box in the basement that contained Princess Smart Belles (the girl version of dumbbells) complete with a booklet of chest-enhancing exercises, and used them for 20 seconds before some wet paint distracted me. Last summer I accidentally carried a butter knife and three pushpins in my backpack for a few weeks before I put them away with all the other bizarre things I found in my backpack. These experiences haven’t left me super prepared for any real sort of danger.
Everyone says that the homeless people in Portland are extremely docile because of a certain drug they’re on that is different from the drugs homeless people in other cities are on, so that is reassuring.
I read an article about a girl who was attacked when she was running, and she’s a professional boxer and beat the guy up. Everyone I tell that story to says “He picked the wrong girl to attack.” That is exactly what absolutely no one one say if someone attacked me. They would say “That man has made a lot of bad decisions in his life, but he did pick the right girl to attack.” Unless someone tried to attack me at the bottom of a hill. I am incredible at hills. Here’s a map of my running route.
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