Syvette Wimberly is My Wife's Receptionist

I think my wife works with a porn star of considerable repute.

My wife has now officially upped the ante on hilarious life stories considerably.

When I came to pick her up from school today she told me there was some insanity that happened at work. I assumed said insanity included misplaced documents, a mercurial mood swing from her exasperated boss or maybe some enticing drama from her cube-mate’s love life. None of the above.

Instead, she said that someone in the office had e-mailed them a link to a news story from Houston’s ABC News channel about a stolen identity. It seemed like a standard cautionary tale at first, but as they read through the story they noticed something…odd. A Houston woman, Kristen Syvette Wimberly, accused a former high school BFF of stealing her name and using it as her porn pseudonym. Apparently they were very close in high school but had a falling out before graduation. Kristen Wimberly regarded her friend’s use of the name as some sort of revenge.

My wife and her posse at work began doing some light research at work, balancing their acute interest in finding out whether the porn star was their receptionist or with their fear of accidentally pulling up porn on their work computers. In their favor was the fact that the receptionist had conveniently called in sick that day and had said she wouldn’t be able to make it to work for the rest of the week. They found information on the case at The Smoking Gun related to the case, including the plaintiff’s legal petition.

The legal documents identified the porn star’s civilian name as Lara Madden. Their receptionist, however, was named Laura. Luckily, The Smoking Gun had contacted the defendant, “who said that her first name is actually Laura.”

This set off the girls in the office who raised all sort of circumstantial evidence. Laura was a receptionist, but she had a sweet pad downtown. Everyone had assumed that she came from money, but it was becoming clearer that maybe she actually came for the money, instead. One pointed out that she cleaned up exceptionally well, like she routinely went to a spa and had herself done up.

They all agreed to do some real research when they got home and reconvene the next day. This is where I stepped in.

I did a quick search and found Syvette’s IMDB page. There was a striking resemblance according to my wife. But when I found a candid photo of her from another website she was almost sure it was her.

But we were still curious. We couldn’t find her on facebook, but that may be because she didn’t go to college (according to the legal documents we found). So I searched on myspace, which was ludicrous at first, until we searched Kingwood High School, which the article had mentioned was the institution where the two had allegedly met. My wife knew the receptionist was 25, which placed her as graduating in either 1999 or 2000. After some trying, we found someone we settled on as the receptionist/porn star at www.myspace.com/madmich81. Since these are still allegations we decided not to reveal the receptionist’s last name (which was probably fake anyway). But a People Search of Lara Madden came up with one name across the state, but using the receptionist’s name we found addresses within Houston.

When my wife arrived at work this morning, her little group had decided it was her. It had to be.

But either way, it’s a hell of a story.

Talkin' Bout Balls: New York Red Bulls @ Houston Dynamo

- The game took place at the University of Houston’s football stadium, which is the closest thing they have to a soccer specific stadium in Houston. I was surprised because it’s actually a lot smaller than the Jayhawk’s Memorial Stadium which seats over 60,000 (Robertson Stadium seats around 30,000). But it’s a good size for a soccer stadium in the U.S.

- It was a doubleheader with the first game being Houston Dynamo vs. New York Red Bulls and the second game Chivas Guadalajara vs. CD Motagua (a club team from Honduras). There were Chivas fans everywhere, holding up signs and decked out in their red and white striped shirts. Chivas isn't as popular in Houston as their bitter rivals in the Primera División de México, Club America, though. Matt said that last year he went to the Barcelona vs. Club America game and they sold out Reliance Stadium for that. Chivas is big among the Los Angeles Mexicans though.

- Outside there was some sort of festival going on hosted by some of the Spanish radio stations and television outlets. There was a band, a giveaway, a booth where you tried to score free kicks for prizes and several other attractions. Also, I believe there was a low rider competition. I don’t know if this happens normally for the Dynamo, but I think it’d be pretty safe to assume this was all Chivas-related.

- Matt hates Mexican soccer and the Mexican national team (as do I cause of the U.S./Mexican rivalry) so we didn’t stay for that much of the second game, but we saw enough to notice there was a little bit more skill involved in that game than the MLS game.

- Regardless, it was cool to see the supporters group for the Dynamo. There was a Mexican and a Gringo contingent. The white people were the Texian Army and the Hispanic group was called the El Batallon. Throughout the game we were surrounded by different bands playing cultural music (there was a Jamaican band making some noise close to us). It was all and all pretty festive.

- As for the game, it was a rout. The Dynamo tore the Red Bulls up, which was a big deal because New York is a really good team. They have Juan Pablo Angel, who is the leading goal scorer in MLS. I was expecting him to come out with guns firing, but New York couldn’t really put anything together.

- The Dynamo use a silver ball in their home games because they’re the reigning MLS champions. Hilarious.

- Bruce Arenas, former U.S. Men’s National Team coach and current Red Bulls coach is the most dour presence on any sideline in the world.

- For a while I looked at the field and realized that soccer didn’t have much of a mystique when witnessed live. It looks a lot more important on television. This may have been a little post-modernism on my part, but then I thought about baseball games I’ve been to and it was the same way. It’s very different seeing a game live than on television. When I came to that realization I enjoyed the game more.

- When the ball goes into the stands during a soccer game you have to throw it back. Too bad.

- During the Mexican national anthem (which they played before the Chivas game) I noticed that Mexicans, instead of holding their hands over their heart, hold their hands parallel to the ground over their heard, like their karate chopping their chest. It looks more menacing than adoring and may be the key to unlocking the differences between our two cultures.

- When Brian Ching scores, you yell “Cha-Ching!” as loud as you can.

- Claudia Reyna fouled a Dynamo on our side of the field and I loudly heckled him. “You SUCK Reyna! Go back to ManCity!” Overall it was a pretty tame crowd. They needed a few more loudmouths like me out there.

- The Dynamos are on a pretty incredible hot streak, they’ve taken Kansas City and New York (two top of the table teams) and face D.C. United on Sunday at home. They were horrible a month ago, but looks like they’re rounding into form quite nicely.

- I can’t wait to get back to Kansas City to see Eddie Johnson score another meaningless hat trick in person.

Hang the DJ: In Memorica

On my way to work today my ipod randomly drew a mediocre Metallica track (“2x4”) as I was speeding down I-45 to reach the offices of my summer internship. As I grasped for the next button, I realized I actually like this song. I started evaluating my appreciation for Metallica and discovered that I have specific memories from my childhood related to most of their back catalog (pre-St. Anger).

”Enter Sandman” – The first time I remember hearing this was while we were on vacation in the Ozarks at the Alhonna Resort. Back when drug companies would pay for us we used to stay at the Four Seasons or Tan-Tar-A, but after the laws changed my parents wouldn’t shell out the money for the nicer resorts and instead we ended up at the hospitable but less than luxurious Alhonna. They had a Bar & Grill at the middle of the facilities with a lone pool table that I used to spend a good portion of the day monopolizing. Back then I was into a lot of random music and would program Pearl Jam or STP into the jukebox when I could, but some redneck guys came in and cued up “Enter Sandman.” The first time I heard the guitar lick when he sings “Off to Never Never Land!” was the coolest thing ever. It’s never sounded as cool as it did that day.

“Of Wolf and Man” – My best friend in middle school was Brian Wise who was a huge Metallica fan (and basically the reason I listened to them so much at the time). I ended up seeing Metallica at Lollapalooza and Kemper Arena with him, which looking back was total overkill but still fun. We used to shoot hoops in his driveway and he’d bring out his boombox and set it on the car while we’d play. When “Of Wolf and Man” came on he set to explaining the complex symbolism of the song. It took around ten minutes for him to truly impart, but ended with a much more concise summation. “So, basically he’s a werewolf,” said Brian. “Isn’t that awesome?”

“Master of Puppets” – Back when Usman still lived at home I remember the lot of us (Shahryar, Usman, Mansoor, etc.) would spend the night over there and his dad would take us in his old yellow four-door sedan (which I do not recall the make of) and we’d go to the carnival themed theater off of 119th and Metcalf (since closed). On the way home from the movie (I think it was a movie with Sinbad…Usman loves Sinbad) I commandeered the radio and “Master of Puppets” was on the radio. Shahryar immediately sang the praises of the main riff. I didn’t want to come across as a total meathead in front of Uncle Latif, but when Shahryar started waxing intellectual about it I thought it was okay to leave it on. Looking back this song would not have hurt or helped my case with Uncle Latif. I think at the time he was more concerned building an in-house HMO staffed by his children .

“Ain’t My Bitch” – I used to spend a lot of time at the Siddiqui’s house while I was at Rockhurst, because they were ridiculously hospitable and also within walking distance of the school. I’d basically take over Naveed’s room whenever I was there, which was nice of him. I can’t imagine how he was okay with that or how I wasn’t a complete jerk for doing it. But we’d listen to music in his room and Ibad and Mubeena would come in and we’d all sit around the room talking. I put on Metallica and Ibad (who was still super young back then…and come to mention it he’s still a kid to me) lost it and started slam dancing (it’s not even a slam dancing song) and then yelled “It Ain’t My BITCH!” Mubeena was not happy. So I went about explaining that the song was not about misogyny, but about how in the time between the Black Album and Load all the bands that came out were whiny and emo and Metallica had come back to the musical world and on the first song on their new album they said, “It Ain’t MY Bitch! Everyone else is whining! We’re totally not.” She responded in motherly tones, “I don’t care what it means, I don’t want my little brother yelling bitch in my face!”

“Fuel” – Going to school at UMKC for roughly a third of my life, I became pretty familiar with a semi-permanent fixture there, Danish Hasan. In recent years the man has made an amazing transformation from the No Fear-branded, Classic Rock loving simpleton to complex, exasperated disaster, but when I rolled into the med program in ’99 he was somewhere in between. We used to spend a lot of time driving his Civic around and listening to old Eric Claption (you had to be there). But one of D’s favorite jams was “Fuel.” I had asked him what his best driving music, to which he responded: “You just want to gun it when James screams ‘Gimme Fuel Gimme Fire! Gimme that which I desire!’ and just smoke everybody around you. It’s freakin’ awesome, man.” This is also back when Danish used to jump around in his seat during action movies. Those were the days I tell ya.

“Sad But True” – Besides listening to the thundering riff on my dad’s huge speakers in the basement, this will always represent the time I spent living with my sister going to KU. I was listening to two songs for the month of October 2004, Guns ‘N’ Roses’ “Estranged” and Metallica’s “Sad But True.” I assumed this simply annoyed the hell out of Shaheen (and it probably did) but one days she walked out of her room and in tune with the chorus she belted out an inspired “You Know it’s SAD BUT TRUUUUUUUUE!” Good times.

Hang the DJ: I’m Lookin’ For a Hard Headed Woman

”I know a lot of fancy dancers,
People who can glide you on a floor,
They move so smooth but have no answers.”

-Cat Stevens’ “Hard Headed Woman”

I’ve noticed a strange thing as of late. I’m not comfortable with female artists who actually like men. I’m so used to the idea of a strong woman that it seems odd and partially repugnant to me when I hear a woman sing about how much she loves (or even needs) her man.

I first realized I harbored this notion when reading the Rolling Stone cover story about Amy Winehouse. The day of the interview Winehouse had suddenly eloped with her boyfriend and throughout the interview she doted on him, talking about how she wanted to do his laundry and even boldly proceeded to cut his vegetables for him during dinner. The author mentioned that one started to feel “embarrassed for her.” Clearly, this is an extreme case, but reading it I thought only one thing. This was no way for a woman to be acting in 2007.

Winehouse’s album features heroines that run the gambit from assertive (“Addicted”) to wholly co-dependant (“You Know I’m No Good.”). The thing is, “No Good” is my favorite song on the album. Not because I feel it’s a genuine plea from a sympathetic woman madly in love with her man, but unable to control her life. It’s because the narrative is so outrageous. The heroine has a mind for only one man, but is constantly giving herself up to others.

”Upstairs in bed, with my ex boy
He's in the place, but I can't get joy
Thinking of you in the final throes, this is when my buzzer goes.”

She’s a train wreck. I can’t help but listen to her. On “Addicted,” a song about giving up your man before your weed, is much more in line with my conception of the modern woman.

“Don't make no difference if I end up alone
I'd rather have myself and smoke my homegrown
It’s got me addicted, does more than any dick did.”

It’s a sentiment shared by a plurality of popular female artists today. From Lilly Allen’s “Not Big” to Beyonce’s “Irreplaceable,” men are wholly unnecessary to ensure emotional or socioeconomic stability. Woman is an island.

I don’t outright dispute this notion. Ideally, every woman should be independently stable (as should every man, but that’s another story). One of the best comic series out right now is Y: The Last Man, a series by Brian K. Vaughan, about a world where all the males have died save for an English major from the Northeast. It’s a fascinating exploration of how society would function without a single Y chromosome. We all talk about the Peak Oil phenomenon, worried that our society is too dependant on fossil fuels to function when it runs out. Perhaps just as pressing is its dependency on men.

These are the questions I’m asking myself in my internal monologue these days. So when I hear a female singer belt out a number about how she needs a man…It throws my whole worldview out of sorts.

But what does it matter, anyway. I’m not even necessary in this world.