In a house riddled with brothers, a mother who taught the mechanic class at UT and a sports crazed father, the concepts of “cheer leader” and “beauty pageant” didn’t so much as enter the threshold of my front door. I was too busy watching ESPN highlights, arguing over first round NFL picks and secretly practicing Mario Brothers in the middle of the night to impress my brother’s friends (who naturally I was always in love with).  As a bonafied tomboy, I always said, when raised with wolves, it’s to no one’s surprise you grow up with wolf-like tendencies.

Being the product of four older brothers, my pageant world ignorance bred a harsh, self-rightous stereotype of the “pretty and painfully dumb” girls who entered such seemingly vapid competitions. In fact, last year’s Youtube sensation, Miss South Carolina, served as justification to my Comatose Barbie stereotype of pageant girls altogether. So needless to say, when I got the phone call from a dear friend and fellow Survivor contestant, Chett Welch, to be a judge for Miss Pennsylvania 2010, I internally scoffed at the idea of a self proclaimed “empowerment chick” entering enemy territory.

During my five hour flight, my trepidation and paper tiger fears transformed into a brewing Armageddon in the form of baton twirling missiles, hair spray filled napalm bombs and marching armies of high heel prancing, perma-smiling zombie-bots. By the time I had landed, I was dreading the next five days and strategically plotting a “business emergency” that would prevent me from enduing a week of torture. Needless to say, it could not have been farther from the truth. After a week of anticipating a kamikaze, suicide mission; I walked away singing quite a different tune.

Her name is Shannon Doyle. She changed my entire paradigm of what it means to be a “beauty pageant girl.” She dispelled my harsh, unwarranted judgement of a world I had never witnessed first hand. Here was a classy, intelligent, second year med school student, tap dancing queen with a heart of gold. Oh and icing on the cake, she was in fact drop dead gorgeous. When we met it was one of those, “best friend, soul sisters” separated at birth.

There was also a panel of judges, who were shockingly down to earth, hysterically witty and sweeter than pie who turned my judging week into a pseudo summer camp for adults. Combined that with the current Miss America who was anything BUT phony and Prima donna, all things considered I had the time of my life as opposed to the suicide mission I had initially thought I was signed up for.

So through Shannon’s eyes, I gained a new reverence for the foreign pageant land, I learned about the history of Miss America and the exorbitantly high expectations and rigid stipulations required to meeting their criteria. Needless to say, in order to dispel ignorance and intolerance, it takes becoming invested in someone personally to willingly see the world from their eyes.

Now while I do have a new found respect for the Miss American pageant world, that does not mean that I don’t still find bathing suits and high heels minorly offensive. Given the chance to prove their “fitness level” I’d love to see a competitive game of dodge ball or calisthenics testing replace the current bathing suit portion of the competition, but as a whole I was pleasantly surprised by the caliber of women competing.

Pageants have their flaws and aspects of it still feel archaic to me, but it was also bizarre how much we as a culture take on pageant mentality on a daily basis. It would be downright hypocritical to say that we don’t play the “pretty game” on a regular basis.

Really it falls under, “to each their own.” All I’m saying is that I’ve stopped rolling my eyes at the mention of beauty pageants, that in the name of Shannon Doyle, I defend her honor, even if she is an anomaly. While I may be adamantly against Toddlers and Tiaras, and while I think the pageant world could use an empowered revamp. I do take my hat off to all the lovely ladies I had the honor of meeting last week.

To the current Miss America, thank you for your candor and your genuine, heart-felt passion for your not-so PC platform. To Shannon Doyle, thank you for being a personification of i am that girl, and to the recently crowned (burger eating) Miss Pennsylvania, Courtney Thomas, may you be THAT GIRL, rock this world, and bring home the big cheese in January. It’s an honor to do life with each of you and to know that our greatest strength lies in our camaraderie, not our competition. You ladies taught me a lesson this week, that to be empowered comes in all shapes, sizes and tiaras.

Whether we were the tomboy, bookworm, cheerleader, athlete, beauty queen, or student council president…. The real beauty lies in that we are  ALL WOMEN and the more compassion we have to accept one another, to encourage one another and to lovingly empower one another in spite of our differences, the more we can collectively contribute to this world. Empower women, change the world. Bellists UNITE, we certainly have our work cut out for us.

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Alicia Kozakiewicz is a true survivor. When she was just thirteen, Kozakiewicz was kidnapped by a middle-aged man who had befriended her online. The brave young girl was held prisoner, chained to the floor in a Virginia townhouse and sexually abused for four days before being rescued by the FBI — thanks to a tip from a man who had seen a video of the teen made by her captor. The convicted computer programmer is currently serving a prison sentence of nineteen years and seven months.

Now more than seven years later, Kozakiewicz speaks out about her ordeal to help keep other kids safe from online predators. Although she has gone through counseling, part of her own recovery process involves talking to youth groups as well as producing Internet safety videos alongside her family.

“I think she’s made remarkable progress in that she’s able to stand up and speak about these things, but she’s going to carry an inner pain forever,” her mother, Mary informed People magazine back in 2007. “I don’t think you can survive that kind of terror and not be scarred.”

In the state of Virginia where she was held captive, Kozakiewicz worked to create “Alicia’s Law” to establish taskforces targeting Internet predators. Current budget concerns have placed the funding for this law in jeopardy, so Kozakiewicz has gone back to work pushing for its inclusion in the Virginia 2010 budget.

She’s even testified before Congress imploring tighter laws and more finances to aid in battling cyber offenders.

“I discovered that the boogeyman is real, and that he lives on the Web,” she informed the Congressional judiciary committee.
Kozakiewicz was presented the Courage Award by The National Center for Missing & Exploited Children and the inspiring advocate wants to eventually work with the F.B.I. as a forensic psychologist.
“I’d like to be someone who helps rescue the child,” Kozakiewicz told People magazine, “and then helps recover the child’s soul.”

Alicia Kozakiewicz, Alicia's Law, computer programmer, congress, Courage Award by The National Center for Missing & Exploited Children, FBI, Internet safety videos, kidnapping, kids, online predators, People magazine, prison, sexually abused, survivor, Virginia, youth groups Hide

Last week iatg sponsored its first major event: The Man Panel. Five seriously sexy boys took the stage and leveled with the female audience about what guys are really looking for.

However, we’re not so cruel as to strip them down and string them up without so much as a cocktail first. So, to get the blood pumping our favorite cover band, Unusually Suspect (featuring the dreamy sportscaster-turned-lead-singer Brent Biedel), sang us all our favorite tunes including a rousing rendition of “Hit Me Baby One More Time.” Folks were pouring into our cozy upstairs bar space at Westwood Brew Co, where we had our own private bar and rockin’ bartender who spent the night serving up the oh-so-affordable $3 pints. Things were off to a good start as highly fashionable young ladies were getting their grooves on to the delight of a surprisingly large number of men who were smart enough to come out and support our Ladies’ Night.

After everyone was sufficiently loosened up, we brought out the Man Panel: Pro-surfer Bron Heussentstamm, Dirty, Sexy Money star Seth Gable, Survivor: Exile Island winner Aras Baskauskas, Amazing Race All Stars champ Eric Sanchez, and the simply adorable Yogi Roth, aka USC quarterback coach, aka DREAM BOAT. Alexis and Emily, armed with pages of questions compiled by our online readers and the stacks of multi-colored post-it notes written by our live audience, made no bones about what we girls have been dying to know.

I’ll be frank and say that many of their answers didn’t exactly surprise me: don’t be clingy, say what you mean, a bit of “don’t play the game, but here’s how you play the game” stuff. The good parts came when they touted how girls with a purpose and confidence are the sexiest kinds (that’s what makes us iatg-ers such total knockouts), and how we girls forget that guys have feelings, too. (When girls get into the “men are dogs” vein and claim “you just can’t trust ‘em,” how is that supposed to make them feel?) Hearing that men can sincerely value trust and see it as a sacred bond was heartwarming, indeed.

What was really AMAZING about the Man Panel, though, was not necessarily hearing what five guys had to say (let’s face it, they’re limited to their own experiences), but what happened afterwards. As the boys and girls of the audience went back for another round of cocktails, they started talking, really talking, about what mattered to them in relationships. Can you imagine mingling at a bar and instead of flirtatious BS nonsequiturs, having real conversations about what you really want??

And even though at the end, I still managed to get propositioned for sex from a married man (some guys just never get it), I did see a few other phones exchanging numbers that looked very promising. So while many men still remain utterly mysterious to me, our Man Panel did decode the sex at least enough to let me see that the good ones are not only out there, but they’re looking for girls just like us.

alexis jones, amazing race, aras baskauskas, brent biedel, bron heussentstamm, eric sanchez, iatg, man panel, men, relationship, seth gable, survivor, unusually suspect, USC, westwood brewing company, women, yogi roth Hide

I’ll admit it, I’m a closet superhero freak and it was all too apparent when I bought the early bird tickets to the latest Wolverine movie and stood in line for almost two hours to get the best seats. I’d like to say it’s because I grew up with four older brothers; they’re the reason I’m obsessed with the Spiderman’s and Batman’s of the world…but regardless, in line with all the other X-Men groupies, stood a 5’10, long blond haired, smiling tomboy eager to be let into the theater.

But, honestly, what is it that we love about superheroes anyway? When you think about Michelle Pfeiffer as Cat Woman, old-school Wonder Woman played by Lynda Carter, Halle Berry as Storm, Jennifer Gardner as Elektra, Jessica Alba dressed up as Sue Storm in Fantastic Four and, the ultimate, Angelina Jolie as Lara Croft, you can’t tell me you don’t think they’re rock stars. I’d give my left pinky to be any of them for a day, so what is it about them that makes them so incredible?

Honestly, I think we as humans know our limitations and love to fantasize about a world in which we can fly, read people’s minds, become invisible or beat up a guy who’s ten times our size in a perfectly choreographed fight scene. We want to be bad asses at heart, at least I do. For most people, our biggest fear is being ordinary, mediocre, or Simon Cowell’s biggest insult, “forgettable.”

However, my greatest epiphany recently was that we DO get to be superheroes and we DO get to have super powers, if we so choose. Now maybe they aren’t the cliché super human strength, the ability to move at the speed of light, or invisibility cloaks, but they are equally powerful. This lifetime is never about wishing for something you don’t have, but rather seeing what tools you can find to stick in your belt along the way.

For me, I realized that my life experiences have gifted me with incredible opportunities to pick up priceless tools: the work ethic I gained in grad school, the faith I gained when I lost a dear friend in car accident, the resilience I gained hiking Everest, the determination I gained on Survivor, the compassion I gained in working with underprivileged girls in Cambodia, and the appreciation I gained after witnessing poverty in Brazil. You see, in the real world, the intangibles we gain along our journey are where the real power hides.

I think with every experience we have, there is this opportunity to pick up another gift, another shade of color we can add to our pallet and another tool for our life’s tool belt. Regardless of the situation, whether happy or sad, terrifying of joyfully overflowing there is a kernel of truth that awaits you. In order to best navigate through the jungle of life, it’s in our best interest to gather as many things as possible to help  along the journey.

I may not be able to make things move with my mind, but I confidently know I have the work ethic to build a powerful company; I may never be able to fly, but I know I have the compassion to inspire a young girl to dream big; and Lord knows I’ll never read minds (though with the last guy I had a crush on it would have been uber helpful), but I know I have the resilience to pursue my passion in the face of adversity.

We all have the potential to be superheroes, to leave this world better than we found it, to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves and to be extraordinary, magnificent and truly unforgettable. Now, all we have to do is a get a costume, slap on a mask, and I have no doubt we’d give Cat Woman and the other hero babes a run for their money.

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Unfortunately God did not grant me a window seat on the four hour flight home, a travesty seeing as it was a 6:15am flight and I hadn’t slept in days. I had dressed in the dark, my punk sneakers reeked of “rebel” my thick red aviators and Emo beanie hid my blood shot eyes and the CK1 I sprayed on (to cover my lack of showering) made me smell of 1994. To an outsider I must have looked like a concert groupie, still up from the night before, experiencing the worst hangover of her life. The reality: I was experiencing the worst hangover of my life but it wasn’t the traditional, self-induced alcohol binge; it was so much more. I was experiencing the first ever, “post-activist, rally rebel, nine hours of sleep in three days, no-voice left” hang over of a true trailblazer.

The beauty of this kind of hangover is you’re not simply left with a migraine, nausea and vague snap shots of the night before (half of which you want desperately to forget), you’re also left with a better version of yourself because what you did. We rallied the nation. We inspired the world. Sure maybe we were tired and needed countless hours to recoup our exhausted bodies, but what we received in return was almost criminal.

If you read my blogs, you know that I was in DC rallying with the Invisible Children boys and that on April 25^th we had an impossible task looming before us. Our insecurities, our doubt and our fear flirted with our confidence, tempting us to join Café Resignation but we stayed strong, determined to pull off one of the most ambitious awareness campaigns taking place in 10 countries and 100 cities around the world to end a war in Uganda.

The night before, I couldn’t sleep. The anticipation was exponentially worse than any Christmas Eve I could remember. I wanted to know if all our work would be in vain, if we were going to be a success, or fall in the wasteland of mediocrity. I awoke before the alarm went off and we went to our designated location to wait. “If you build it, they will come,” echoed in my head. We would soon find out.

Then it happened, like a miracle, an answered prayer, as droves of people came streaming in. Part of me was in disbelief, the other part arrogantly waved the flag of, “I told you so.” Either way, I will never forget watching hundreds if not thousands of people marching in front of our country’s capital, demanding change. I have never been a part of something like this, witnessed the power of our voice, the influence of numbers and the strength of a passion induced cause.

Icing on the cake: I was asked to give a talk to the Passionistas who stood before me. Humbled, honored, I took the microphone and, to this day, I have no idea what I said. I remember bright lights, cameras flashing, the crowd roaring, and the most overwhelming sensation of pure, unbridled inspiration pouring from my heart, from my entire body and my voice. If there were ever a time I wish I could have stopped time, if I could have freeze framed or crystallized a moment in history, it was then for I have never felt so alive in my entire life.

I walked off stage and the rally raged on with music, camaraderie among strangers, and pride in ourselves. Then we proceeded to endure torrential rain that was all too familiar to my infamous Survivor days, yet none of us were discouraged. Another night of no sleep, but this one sweetly welcomed as I recognized the taste of success, the smell of accomplishment, and the feeling of gratitude. The sun came up sooner than I thought and our faces betrayed our tiredness as we gathered our belongings, thanked the hundreds of people who also chose to weather the storm, and we parted ways.

I returned to our luxurious apartment. I packed up my things and I hopped on an airplane to return to the real world. Just like that, I returned to feeling normal again, like a Superhero who changed back into civilian clothes.

So, yes, to the naked eye I was a party girl gone too far, paying the appropriate consequences for my reckless behavior the night before, brutally catching an early flight home. But to those who where there, I, along with them, was a warrior. I was a girl willing to fight for something bigger than myself and offering the most essential: sleep, food, and shelter as collateral. I was a hero; we all were.

We won that battle, but the war goes on and this is but the first of many. However, the taste of victory is contagious, it’s addictive and I’ve been left wanting, needing more. We will end a war in Uganda. We will rescue the child soldiers of Joseph Kony and we will make history. But for now, I am turning off my phone, I am checking out, and I will voluntarily lose a day of my life to the allure of my bed and my sleep-deprived body’s necessity for rest.

photo by jim girardi

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Nike was onto something when they came up with the slogan, Just Do It. It is so simple and yet seemingly so difficult. I was sitting with a new friend today, discussing my Survivor days and the repercussions of such an abnormal, exhilarating and yet humbling experience.

“So how do you get people to relate to your experience? Because it has to be difficult to get someone to experience something as life changing as that when they haven’t done it themselves.” It’s funny how you can tell a story a million times and yet the moment a person asks you a question you’ve never thought of, it can shift your entire paradigm. By the way, I am rarely caught off guard with questions that leave me momentarily stumped and, yet, it was the reason why Sarah quickly accelerated her “acquaintance” status to “official friend” status.

So I sat there silently pondering my explanation and it immediately spun my head around a myriad of concepts. In the art of sharing one’s experiences, how does the recipient ever retain more than a perfume whiff? That’s when it occurred to me that, despite all the theoretical knowledge we can accrue through education, the wisdom and advice of others and even the “learn from my mistakes” conversations with our elders, there is still nothing more powerful than personal experience.

I realized that even as a motivational speaker, my experiences are as unique to me as the prints etched on my fingers. While I can certainly, and with unparalleled enthusiasm, share my experiences with others, at the end of the day, they remain within the confines of my own body. Therefore, despite my perfume puffs here and there, those listening to my stories, overhearing me on the phone life coaching or reminiscing of the good ol’ Survivor days, my listeners will be left with the simple challenge of constructing their own lives’ collage of experiences, precious and unique to them and them alone.

That brings me back to sweet, corporate Nike. My advice then is Michael Jordan’s greatest endorsement, Just Do It. Whatever that may be, you have to go for it. After all, life is simply too short to settle. Believe in your dreams and then have the audacity to chase them down at all costs. You are worth the risk and you owe the world a genuine contribution carved by passion and built on integrity. Drink the Kool-Aid and start dictating life on your terms… I promise you it’s worth every bit of the blood, sweat, and tears that it will inevitably take.

One of my favorite quotes (and this is for you Miss Sarah) is, “You see things and you say, ‘Why?’ But I dream things that never were and I say, ‘Why not?’” ~ George Bernard Shaw

Now, boldly go where no dreamer has gone before…

photo by meg wills

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1. OBAMA IN BAGHDAD – IRAQ
Obama’s first stop in Iraq as president came at the conclusion of his first world tour as president – a noticeably different international diplomatic protocol than our former top man, George W.. Robert Gibbs, Obama’s spokesman, said this trip was mainly about the troops, to give them “our utmost respect and appreciation.” In addition Obama wanted to visit with Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki and President Jalal Talibani to survey Iraq’s current political situation.
Read more at http://www.cnn.com/2009/POLITICS/04/07/obama/index.html

2. G20 SUMMIT FLASH MOBBING – UNITED KINGDOM
Last week the world watched as the industrial powers of our world came to together to plan our market recession exit strategy. All eyes were on London as anti-capitalist protesters clashed with British law enforcement around the streets of the Bank of England. How did they get there? You guessed it folks – our Internet favorites Twitter and Facebook! Flash mobbers, as the London Telegraph reported, use texts, tweets, and facebook to organize impromptu gatherings before authorities can block their efforts… Long gone are the days of mass pillow fights and silent discos.
Read more at www.telegraph.co.uk/finance/financetopics/g20-summit/5090003/G20-summit-Protesters-use-Twitter-Facebook-and-social-media-tools-to-organise-demonstrations.html

3. EARTHQUAKE SURVIVORS BRACE FOR THE FUTURE – ITALY
A powerful earthquake shook the medieval town of Aquilla in the Abruzzo region of Italy. The earthquake toppled buildings, damaged century old monuments and killed over 150 people.  Many of the survivors were born and raised in the region with nowhere else to go. Rescuers set up tents, and handed out food and water to those left without homes. The panic of yesterday’s Earthquake has left survivors of the ancient town with a sense of sadness and hopelessness over the catastrophe.  At the same time, many brace themselves as they begin rebuilding their lives.
Read more at http://www.cnn.com/2009/WORLD/europe/04/07/italy.quake.eyewitness/index.html

4. FLEXING SOME MISSILE MUSCLES – NORTH KOREA
North Korea sent a shock wave through out the international community this week when testing their ballistic missiles that carried a satellite into orbit. In an interview with CNN, Ex -Secretary of State Madeline Albright criticized the US for not opening diplomatic talks with Pyongyang. Perhaps they would be able to figure out what exactly they are trying to do.
Read more at http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/7988939.stm

5. FIDEL CASTRO ASKS HOW TO HELP OBAMA – CUBA
An engaging and energetic Fidel Castro met with a team of US congressmen. The rare meeting with the notorious former Cuban president was held in Cuba in an effort to improve US-Cuban relations. Fidel Castro publicly ceded power to his brother Raul after falling ill in 2006.  However the three congressmen who met with Castro thought he was vital and asked how Cuba could help President Barack Obama normalize relations between the two countries.
Read more at http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/7988865.stm

6. A DESPERATE PAKISTAN CALLS FOR TRUST WITH US – PAKISTAN
President Asif Ali Zardari  called for trust between the US and Pakistan in response to President Obama’s new foreign policy agenda which will involve a regional strategy to defeat rogue militants plaguing Pakistan and Afghanistan. Pakistani officials were also referring to recent US drone attacks over Pakistan as a violation of their sovereignty. Though the US officials said they would not hand over the drones, President Obama has planned more than $1billion of economic aid for the country over the next five years.
Read more at http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/7986908.stm

7. ANOTHER SHOE ATTACK – INDIA
Just as the sentence for the most notable shoe attacker was reduced, another attack was staged, but this time in India. Palaniappan Chidambaram was in Delhi when a member of the press TOSSED his shoe at the startled minister. The Sikh reporter yelled, “I protest” and off the shoe went. Officials in the room gently led him away. This appears to be the new form of political protest around the world!
Read more at http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/7987201.stm

photo by rob veo

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We always ask the question, “Where have all the good guys gone?” Well ladies, I found them. They are half way around the world, being held captive on an island commonly known as Australia. Maybe it was the gorgeous “passport stamper” I saw the moment I entered the country, or the charming bellboy at our hotel. Better yet, maybe it was three young gentlemen I met while doing a life threatening climb across the Sydney Harbor bridge. Either way, Australia is where all the great guys have been hiding.

Naturally, once you’ve done something like Survivor, it kind of sets the stage for the rigorous challenges you sign yourself up for in order to maintain your well deserved, “tough girl,” reputation. Thus I gravitated towards, “The Bridge Climb”- a 500 foot climb above the Sydney harbor. Shuffling along a narrow, grated floor, we walked along the top arch of the iconic bridge for the best view in town and a heart pounding experience that could easily be mistaken for nausea.

Luckily, in our “climbing group” we had three lovely gentlemen, Jordan, Andrew and John, all natives to Australia, there to celebrate one of their birthdays with a little natural high. Not only did we spend three and a half hours climbing surreal heights with these guys, throwing out awkward jokes to distract us from our ridiculous adventure choice, but we also decided to grab pizza and beer with them.

What gentlemen. They were sweet, funny, eloquent, respectful and even offered to pay for both me and my mom when the meal came to an end. I kept politely suggesting that they should come back to The States with me, that there were some serious need for good guys in my neck of the woods. While I think they assumed I was joking, I was silently sizing them up to see how many I could fit in my oversized suitcase.

Either way, it was refreshing to meet great guys with to die for Aussie accents. They had me the moment they said, “Is it true guys in America like their girls really, really skinny??” My reply, as I’m unapologetically shoving pizza in my face was, “Yeah, can you believe it?” They explained that, to them, looks only mattered to a certain extent and they’d much rather date a healthy girl to a painfully thin one. My heart fluttered as they talked about how much more important it was for a girl to have a good personality and a good sense of humor.

Icing on the cake to meeting these adorable boys was “Mr. you only see guys like me once in a life time” playing the guitar on the side walk as we returned from a long day checking out the Blue Mountains. For some reason, in the States we think we have to choose between the gorgeous jerk or the “cute” good guy… ladies, we are selling ourselves short. They DO exist, the FULL package. So if you’re losing hope (with good reason for some of you) trust me, they are out there.

In the meantime, I’ll see how many I can convince to come home with me, they’ll be my little travel memorabilia… only I have to be honest, my ladies at iatg get first dibs.

alexis jones, Australia, boys, culture, iatg, survivor, sydney, the bridge climb, travel Hide