It's not what you know...you know?

Our 1st Henry V rehearsal was fine. I love the play, and I'm likin’ the group so far, which should say something. I have this ritual of trying to memorize my lines before the 1st rehearsal- and I was getting along juuuussst fine, when my fiancee’ encourages me to audition at her place of employment. So again, I stop with the scanning, and start with the song learning. It got me thinking:

I’ve auditioned at her place of employment before- Several times in fact. Since that I’m not a strooong singer or a very good dancer (2 baboons humping are more graceful) I’ve always auditioned with the proverbial grain of salt. And since I could hear the other singers filling up the place with sound, I’d instantly realize that, hmmmm, I don’t think I'm cut out for these kind of shows. The last audition I attended, the director asked me “well what shows are you doing right now?” or “Good voice for an actor”…whatever the fuck that meant.

To qualify those comments, I don’t have the same shitty attitude some (not all) actors have for musical theatre. I enjoy it, (when it's done well anyway...just like regular plays) I happen to enjoy performing in them (Just like regular plays) and most audiences seem to like the musicals versus other plays I’ve performed. People like singin' and dancin'.

Add some exposed weenies and boobies, and you've got "Hair".

So, I’ve heard some people call the performers at the Chan “Chan-O-Saurs”, and the theatre is rampant with nepotism. I’ve also heard folks say they only cast who they know, the shows are boring, how could you work there doing the same shit over and over and over again…The BEST is when people who don’t know my fiancee’ works there, have rolled their eyes and flung disparaging comments about, of all shows,. “Cats”. Ooooooooo you’re ripping on “Cats”. THAT’s a hard target.

And I won’t forget what my Freshmen College “Intro to Acting” prof said about it: Musical Theatre is not true theatre except for the musical Cabaret. Anyone who thinks differently should change their major or work at Chan. Dick Head.

Well, some of what you’ve heard about the is true. But when you are a “for-profit” theatre making the big-bucks and paying your actors the big-bucks, you usually go with the folks you know will do a good job. And, , it’s not like there is anyone in our small theatre community who has never pre-cast a show. (Fairness-Schmairness: It happens- get over it.) And man-oh -man, can we say job security? Hello? You’re getting paid to be a performer! Worse things can and will happen.

If you get bored, quit. If you don’t think you could hack it, don’t audition. And I have no problem doing shit like this. And I don’t mind routine. (Which is why I like film so much. You wait and wait and wait. You’ll shoot a bunch of times. It’s fun)

So, I’ve been called back. I thought my singing sucked. When the director asked me the same question as last time: “So what are you working on now?” I was ready to pack my bags. Except he followed up with question #2 “What are you doing next Monday at 11 am?)

I am doubtful I’ll get the gig, but it still feels pretty damn good to get called back.

You got something for my cracks???

Yeah. So the new abode has ceiling/wall cracks. The house was built in 1928 for pity's sake. I hope I'm still up and humping around at age 80, y'know? So does anyone know a respectable brand of crack filler? We have the old plaster/lathe walls, with a little texture to them. We gotta fill the butt-cracks before painting so time is of the essence.

Man, did any of you ever call sex "humping"? That is a funny word- humping.
"How was your date?" "Great, great...we had dinner, saw a show, went out for cocktails, I spent the night and we humped..." "Wow, was it a good hump?" I'm thouroughly amusing myself at this point.

So, I royally dorked up my foot at karate. (Specifically, My big toe)I would love to say that it was from sparring, or breaking a board, or something cool. As it turns out, I was dorking around for some of the junior students to make 'em laugh- (And get them to do their drills better) so I scampered behind them saying "Hurry Up, Hurry Up, MOOOOOVE!!!!" taking these little shuffly steps... and I came straight down on the mat with my big toe CUH-RACK! Bruised instantly. (Which was kinda cool to watch happen) Although now it's looking pretty gnarly, very "John Merrick-esque". (I'll be fine, gentle readers. I've had worse.)

Hellooo? Feeling like the Omega Man here....

Did anyone else have to show up to work today?

That's what I get for not taking the day after T-Day off. (in all fairness, I'm only working a 1/2 day) I show up at the office, and there are only 8 other cars in the Parking Lot. 5 other peeps are on my floor. They too, should have requested a personal day. The NYSE closed at Noon CST today, so really there is no point to any of the employees being here. Occupational hazard of working in the insurance game. Pretty soon, we'll start scavenging the "outside world" for survivors.

So here I sit, broken hearted, tried to blog, but only.. HEY OHHHH!!!


House Stuff: Lawn is done. No more outdoor PJ's for us until spring of next year. Thank God. 26 bags of leaves, brush , and grass clippings. It was 28 degrees out yesterday (Fahrenheit, my metric babies) and I mowed the football field. The grass was still remarkably green too. Our back yard will be fantastic for playing catch, or perhaps a unique game of croquet. I wrote that last line to see if I could fit 2 words where the "Q" sounds like a "K". Okay, I didn't. Anyway, he doesn't read this, but I want to thank my dad- "P the Senior" for coming over and being so "gung-ho". It was good bonding time for dad, the dog, and moi. I'm off of my leaf vendetta. Apologies....

So 2 days in a row, I've gorged. This does wonders for the dysmorphia. 2 Families. 2 Opportunities to over-indulge. No dessert here, Portland- I was too full. My esophagus burned from all of the food that wanted to come right back up. Gross? Not as bad as I felt on my drives home.

Little family differences:

My fam. Brings a "Turkey Breast" (A roasted, slicable feast from which they create sandwich meat at the deli) Oyster stuffing (heaven) sweet taters, mash taters, pasta (For the bro's wife) and roasted veggies, French silk pie, and wine.

J's fam? Traditional bird, regular stuffing, mashed taters, sweet taters, etc...and lefse. If you've never ingested this Norweigian delicacy, it looks kinda like tortilla's...wrapped around butter (usually) and sprinkled w/sugar. I ate 2.

I'm not thinking clearly today.This weekend should clear my head... Oh the weekend, weekend... I'll be filling cracks at the new digs. (tee-hee...filling cracks)

Blogs to look forward to:
Why working 3 jobs, gigging, moving, trying to get married really sucks. Let me tell you- the bosses at jobs # 2 and 3 reeeeally fucked up this time. So what get's to suffer? That's right: Out of 16 rehearsals for Henry V, I may only get to attend 4. This ticks me off...big time.


PS: G- Thank you for the invite. I was out all day, but still appreciate you thinking of me.

...and I'll be dishing about the big kid birthday coming up this X-mas. Hence, the creative title of this blog.

Masochistic Turkey

A new name for a band. Catchy, huh?


Got the homestead paperworks filed, which marks the last stamp on home-bonership. We can now safely file taxes next year. Next step? Driver's licenses. (Maybe this time I won't wear a turtleneck)

We had a case of "small-worldliness" today. We ran into Tallen at the Homestead Filing place. Folks, this is why it's always a good idea to at least dress a little bit nicer when you go out in public. We didn't have make up on, we're looking like we just rolled-out-of bed. Go figure. We're in the big city for all of an hour, not expecting to see anyone, and Murphy's Law holds up a mirror and says "Do you think that maybe you should've combed your hair, P?"

After that rigamarole was completed, we grabbed a spot of lunch @ the good ole' Irish Pub, 'cross the street. There, I run into Amy L, an old school chum of mine. Well, once again I'm introducing my fiancee' and myself and I'm lookin' like annus. Major-annus.

I shoulda worn a hat.

No turkey for me tomorrow. 1st time in memory that I won't celebrate Turkey Day ON Thanksgiving. I'm gonna miss the cermony. I'm having din din tonight w/my folks and brother/wife (J has to work) and tomorrow, I imagine I'll be at the house priming the walls and stripping the borders. (Wallpaper, is EVIL!!! EVIL EVIL EVIL!! Decorative Border?? Impo-LITE and EVIL!!!) J has a 2pm Matinee, and we may stop over later to visit w/her folks in the evening, but only visit.

Normally, my turkey days have been a lot of exercising, even a nice 3 mile jog the morning of, to get my metabolism nice and ready for the decadent richness with which I'll be bombarding myself. Last year, we did 2 Turkey Days. Prior to this, it was always a gathering at my G-Ma Pat's (now, big brother's house.) With new wives and fiancee's, it's difficult to map a definitive gameplan. I am grateful, but ultimately I suffer from a tinge of melancholia for the "old days".

But, I now have a house, and a beautiful gal who loves me. Even when I don't comb my hair.

I need muff....

Ear muffs to be exact. Mine always seem to disappear like socks from the dryer. Galyans currently have the "wrap 'round the back 'O the head" brand that I like so well...(You know, so they don't muss up my thinning coiffure?) I went to the ole Bullseye to get some and they had nary a pair in boys styles. (I did get some other cold weather runnin' gear like a turtleneck, but now I need some new smeggin' shoes. I just tossed my old "outdoorsey" runners )

So the house. The house. It's ours. And we've been working on it almost daily since the closing. The tacky carpeting is kaput, along with all the offending staples. (And oohhhh so many staples) We've cleaned a bit, and got mucho lawn stuff done (Before the weather gets reeeally fricking chilly) Can you imagine raking a football field? Go on. Imagine. That, my friends, is the back yard. (Apolgies for the hyperbole, but it's got a pretty big lot for the city.)

I'll miss this old place though. It was close enough to Minnehaha parkway for a great, scenic jog (Oh, the Mansions) . A stone's throw to Harriet (+ the rest of the Chain of Lakes) and the Harriet Rose Garden. There's the Washburn tower (Big gothic CEEment water tower, w/reliefs of eagles and 12th Century English Soldiers.) Great food (Fresh Wok) a Driveway. Mostly finished home.

But... it ain't ours.

(Okay, if you're bored today read on, but stop now if you don't want the Keilloresque digression. Seriously. You've been warned. Ready?)

I've lived in many different places around Mpls since age 18It's not that I dislike "The Paul" but really I've just never found a place that I cottoned to. Personally, I think the whole Mpls vs. StPl arguments are a little dumb, even if they are supposed to be playful jest. Now, if it was country vs. city, yeah, have at it. For the rest of you: Here's a life. Going cheap: Now get it.

I've always had this weird affinity for NE Mpls too. My 1st apt was a 2 BR upper in NE. Only $375 a month!!! Then, I lived there briefly in 2000-01 B4 heading to Western ND. ( Not a big place, but it was fun giving my friends directions: "Get off on my Johnson street....") I once dated a gal in NE for a while. Even celebrated solstices for a couple of years w/Her mom and mom's partner after we split.

It's a centralized, safer neighborhood than many you'll find in the Minne Apple, and has a great sense of history. (Not to mention a cheap liquor store not 5 minutes away. Maybe not as important as the shopping mall w/Target/ Rainbow/& Home Depot in it, but they have tremendously low prices.)

Well guess what? Now I'm a resident. Full Time. With a house that needs an updated garage, kitchen, bath, (Basement BR too.) and a new range, fridge, DW (It doesn't have one, but I want one.) sanded floors, wall and ceiling cracks repaired, staircase to basement reinforced, new washer/dryer, dining room table and chairs, creative landscaping, gardens, painted.....ummmm yeah.

But it's ours : )



ps: Not to sound gripey. Here's the boner...I mean bonuses- New electric/water heater/roof/shingles/house dehumidifier/central air/1300 sq ft/ 1.5 BR/wine (or canning) room/dry basement (no mold)/ shop/ 3BR's/ spacious lower level/HW floors/breakfast nook (we have a fucking NOOK yo!!!) and limitless potential.

pps: And this is Random. To the dickhead at the Y who, out of 12 OPEN working shower heads, decides to sally up at the one next to mine and stare....That was just fuckin rude. I know my bod, and "it" is not that impressive (despite the trimming. ). My body, is not impressive, nor was I amused or flattered. So quit frickin staring you perv. I don't think I'll be hitting that Y anymore. I'll rant about it later.

Must be fate....

I'll "house-dish" later. I had some weird goings-on this weekend that I thought I'd share.


So this Saturday I blogged about this "big" audition I had & how I was extremely non-plussed with my own performance. It was a long blog, (As you've come to expect) and given that I am not typically prone to self deprecation of that magnitude...well let's just say I was pretty nasty to myself. Waaaay too introspective and on top of that, I was asking the big questions. And to be perfectly honest- (As opposed to what, P? Imperfect honesty? You're honest, but you suck at it?) y'all didn't need to all see that side of moi.

Which is what brings me to the weird part: Apparently my PC doesn't think you need to see it either. I went to post it, and my system crashed. Timed Out. Nada was saved. All that carpal tunnel in the toilet, and I was late for a lunch date. (With no desire to re-type it.)


Kismet has saved me on numerous occasions from this type of emotional gaffe (All surrounding 4 long-term ex-gf's), and I'd really like to share:
1st Ex: (Together 3.5 years) I wrote a long letter, reeking with all of those "we've both made mistakes/I'm so sorry this couldn't last/barfeddy barfeddy barfeddy"...
Mailed it....returned due to insufficient postage. (Stamps had just increased in prices that month. Who knew?)
Ex #2: (1.5 years) Same letter, fell out of my car into the driveway. It was April. The letter was trashed.
#3 (1.5 years) I'm brilliant- I start to really buy into this whole kismet thing, and realize after writing the newest emotionally charged "goodbye" letter, I should just throw it out with all her old pics! A spiritual cleansing of sorts. (Ok- I'm not wont to do that type of thing, but I was 23, living alone, and so very emotional.) So, I put it all in a box, set the letter on fire (Ah...catharsis!) and toss it (wait for it!) into a dumpster (waiiiit for it!!!) which caught on fire. Yeah. I was covered in coffee grounds, soot, and banana peels before I was able to put that fucker out. This is why I don't do the whole "cathartic-ex-gf-picture-burning-tossing" thing.
Too Dangerous.
#4 (2 years): Same type of letter, but now containing many references to the cat we owned together. Mailed it. Forgot to put a stamp on it. The End.


So you see readers, I may have been subconsiously sabotaging my attempts to show these ex's just how big of a pathetic and mopey boob I was (am). And it is indeed probably better that they didn't see all of that. I don't possess much of a high gloss, so I need to muster all of the dignity I can.


Last thing: I had such an overwhelming state of deja vu last night w/J. Down to the letter of our conversation and to the fact that she was eating her mini-twix bars.
FUH-reaked me out. She just stared at me like I was weird. Pretty soon we were both sleeping, and it really didn't matter any more. : )

We did it. It's ours. Northeast:

Here we come!

Soooo Close....yet so far away.

Damn you Hall and Oates for creating this title. "Portland" was on this song-title header kick and I think it's spread to my blog.

Thursday, 12:00pm. Potential close date. I've jumped through so many GD hoops, I may audition for Ringling Bros. Keep your fingers crossed, since I haven't been this scared/nervous since I proposed. And that wound up with the cat lit on fire!

I had a boatload to chat about, but I think I'm a little brain-clogged. Soooo: I got into a fight last night, did I tell you?

The co-instructor at my dojo (dojang/kwoon/martial arts studio) did something kinda weird last night in class, by asking us what we would like to do. I suggest: "if Mr. Tran has his gear, can we fight?" To which She says "Sure. just don't tell Mr____" (Mind you, class consisted of me and Mr. Tran so I felt comfortable asking. ) btw- 2 people in class? Join Karate people!

And fight we did. She even put a"Prince" CD on for us. By the end of the night I was wiped out, sweating what can only be described as "bullets of Mazola" from my pores. We were delirious from the effort. And today? I can barely move my body. My forearms look like I have track marks on the wrong side. Still- it felt wonderful. 30 minutes of cathartic sparring, to alleviate all of this house-buying nonsense. I even felt ambitious enough to go for a run afterward (It was a beautiful evening, you know? Not many 40 + degree nights left here in MN. I didn't wanna waste it. )

Which will bring me to my next topic 'o blogging. What I will miss about my current 'hood. If I don't call in sick tomorrow, and if we do, indeed get this house I promise to tell you then. Night my Sweeties.

ps: If you ever get into a fight , it will NEVER go the way you want it. Despite the beautiful choreography you may see in movies or in your head. Trust me on this.

Too, too beautiful...

It is the last beautiful weekend of the year, they say. 2 gorgeous days of sunny, crisp weather. The kind where you can still go for a run w/o gloves or a hat (And the 6 other layers I'm gonna be wearing for the next 6 months.) so run, run I did. AAaand I had to work at the nightmare factory which is job # 2, but I digress.

My Best Bud Ssssteve came over on Saturday to sign/notarize some paperwork that J and I need for the rassin-frassin house. I needed paperwork signed by a Notary...I just happen to know a Notary. Kismet. He let us bitch about this whole home buying process which, ultimately, was very kind of him- And for this guy, it's par for the course- I've known him for over 12 years and truly he is a gifted listener. And no, J does not hate you. She thinks you're "adorable".

Sunday, it is official. I'm done raking. I will rake no more, forever.


That night, I met up with my other pal McHard-on for the Queens game. He's gonna be in my weddin', and we don't get to always spend a heckuva lot of time together. So I encourage you all, please go out and touch someone you haven't touched in a while...(Wait, that didn't come out right at all)

Scccrreeeeech- Due to a weird Texas Law (That has since been repealed) A serial killer imprisoned in 1982 COULD get probation in 2006? It's Texas, right? I mean, he only admitted to his crimes and swore he would do it again if he were to be released. (Now, folks- The good people of MI are trying to get the guy on a murder charge. I still think it's frickin weird. How many women is he accused of 86'ing? Over 40? Yeah, I don't think he's going anywhere.)

Peeps, give your love and healing vibes to another "J" (The Godfathers "J", not mine.)
She had an accident which was truly nasty, nasty, nasty. Please, send positive thoughts to her for a speedy recovery.

I'm gonna buy a Santa Suit. Just because. And all will love me in my red, holiday, Santa-liness.

The Fabulous Diva, Miz "M"

I'll bitch about the house stuff later. It's made me madder than a swatted wasp.

I want my readers to know my girl. Y'see, the birth of today's blog is a result of a few comments I've had from friends who don't know her that well, except in passing. She's a little introverted you see, and we know a lot of folks who are talkers (myself included) and sometimes, just sometimes, she doesn't always feel included in conversations. (Has anybody ever felt that way. Never asked your opinion, or never had the chance to be given voice? It can be a little demoralizing) This blog contains spoilers, so skip to the bottom if you don't want to know how the story ends.

She grew up in Crystal, MN. (NW Mpls suburb, a stone's throw from my hometown)
Went to Cooper High School. (She did some shows w/Steve Zahn, if any of y'all know that guy)
She's a LEO. If you subscribe to Astrology, you'll understand that she is a Leo in every sense of the word. Focused, Fiery, Passionate, and certainly not afraid of confrontation.
She's known since she was 9 that she wanted to perform. And she loves it. Loves, performing. Makes her happiest. And I don't think I've met a performer who wears it on her sleeve like she does.
So what does she do? Performer/Entertainer (of course) . Member of the AEA, and AGVA. Currently in the employs of Chanhassen Dinner Theatres, (As performer, U/S, and ass't choreographer)Choreograph's Show Choir in Bloomington, Choreograph's various HS musical productions, teaches dance at a studio, gives 1 hr private lessons. (We have a heavy-ass dance floor) She's worked at the Ordway , Disney Stage Spectacular (As Cruella DeVille), and the 2000 Superbowl Halftime Show. (All stuff you'd find in her bio)

Because she's got the performers lifestyle, she doesn't have a lot of time to pursue fun, relaxing or otherwise superflous fancies: (Like reading a book, getting hooked on a TV show, Seeing all the new movie releases etc) So, everything generally winds up being work related. We're just catching up with some 2002 films we haven't seen, like "Road to Perdition"

She's got almost boundless energy at home, and is very "anti-procrastination". (She helps keep a random guy like me focused anyway.)

She's lived in NY, but came back. (I'll let her tell the reasons)
The girl Loves Disney, Barbies (She owns every Barbie she was ever given. Literally 100's upon 100's. ) , Angels (See: Our bathroom), and Marilyn Monroe.
Love's Movie Musicals. (Gene Kelley, Danny Kaye, Cyd Charisse) and one of her Favorite movies is "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles"
Favorite Wine- Pinot Grigio (After my own heart) Favorite Cocktail- The Cosmo
(Although she's never seen an episode of Sex and the City. Strange?)
Can't eat vegetables. (Except Cukes, snap peas, and tomatoes. Veggies cause her great ill.)
Doesn't eat the red meat or porky-pork, but LOVES grilled salmon and chicken.
Does the funniest Cher impression I've ever seen.
HATES laundry and Leaves (She's a little OCD w/Laundry and Raking like I am with dusting and dishes)
Can't really listen to music without dancing. It's awesome
Her brain doesn't shut down ever.


I happen to think that she's really cool, guys. Because of her big ole' expressive brown eyes (Which look like they'll bore into your head) she's sometimes labeled as very "Intense", but truly, she's the most down to earth gal I've met, and one of the most generous spirited persons you could want to know.

So if, on those rare occasions, we're all ever out having a drink...say "Hi" I'd love it if people could see what I do.

: )

Mmmmmm Donuts

2 big old boxes. Right there at the mail station. Can you smell the eclair-y goodness?
I turned to my co-worker who was holding an apple fritter under my nose. "Want one?" sez she..."No thank you" smiled I...."WHY?!!?" sez she. Did she just get insulted over my pastry refusal? Apparently. Movin' on-

Left work a titch early yesterday so I could catnap and head to a play reading @ the Playwrights Center. It was okay, and just so-so. I saw some peeps I hadn't seen in a goodly while, which I really enjoy. Read a (lackluster) play that had some genuinely funny moments...only to be hampered by a somewhat listless narrative. Kinda weird to be sitting on chairs w/music stands in front of you, reading from a script, while 10-15 people watch you "read". I understand the rationale, I'm just saying, it feels weird.
(10-15 people. By most TC small theatre accounts, a good house. : ) Oooops! Was that my "out loud" voice?

So yeah, got Chinese for the Misses. Jogged/Tapped/worked on some music and went to bed. Nothing remarkable. 10:30pm, and I shut down. ( I remember a couple of kisses when she got home, but mostly oblivion.)

She's a peach. The bed was empty when I got up at 5:45am, so I went up to the TV room to find her "Cocooned" in blankets on the floor, with the congealing remains of Sweet and Sour Chicken/Fried Rice next to her. I woke her up saying "Ohhh look, look at ze beeyootiful botterfly" (Ala Heimlich in "Bugs Life") I should really blog about her sometime...I'm sure people are getting indigestion from all the sentiment.

Rassin' Frassin' House Crap!!!!

So our mortgage guy calls sayin': "Bad news buddy- Because JM is a performer, and works several different jobs, we cannot have her on the loan." Okay, so what do we do to buy this fuckin house? Well, you'll share the title, the loan will simply be in your name and we'll have to nudge up your interest rate 1/8 %...OH, and we're not sure you can close by the 18th. Did I mention that if we welch on the close date (which has changed 3 times) we lose our earnest $ and they put the home back on the market? (Earnest $ being $1000.00. KnowwhutImean, Vern?)

S'Wonderful. My personal debt will now be (potentially) increased by almost $180K.
I'm an old man. I can't jump through any more of these goddamn hoops. I gave the guy hell for about 10 minutes, had to leave work to drive to Bloomington so that I could sign/initial the appropriate papers and then haul a$$ back to Plymouth to work job # 2.
I'm gonna write a primer called "home buying for actors". Seriously. Learn from my mistakes padawans.

I mean, so she works 50 gazillion different jobs...she's employed, right? Incidentally, there is a townhome in Albertville (read: Egypt) that is 2300 sq ft, 3BR/2BA for $169K.
Albertville. Or if I were to move out there, "Fat Albertville" hey, hey, hey.

So yeah, despite a calm night at Knights, A nice workout, and a nice evening w/the future Mrs...I'm bone dog tired. Didn't sleep a wink.

That's a DAMN fine cup of coffee...

Anyone catch the Twin Peaks reference?

Vikes lost last night. Big old surprise. I was at the dojo so I didn't catch the whole she-bang...but enough to hear that we were trailing at the half, and something about being 3-15 when trailing at the half. I didn't like those odds. Pishaw...I'm too fairweather to really care. Although, in the interest of camaraderie, I did get asked to hang w/some friends out in the Saint of Paul. Now, I'm not sayin...but there was a really funny message on my Cell phone. It went something like " Details my ASS! That is all"

I laughed a goodly while at that one.

And I was up late again last night. Brain was racing. Figures. The day before we stuck around the Chan "post show" to kibbitz with the cast, and wound up getting into some heavy convo's regarding...well, a lot of shite. (Which I'll use for blog fodder at a later time.) Got home at 1am. (Speaking of Twin Peaks, her folks jokingly lambasted me for not having any intermission Pie. They just stared incredulously when I said I don’t really do sweets that often!) Any way, I'm all dog-tired today.

Our cafeteria here at the Stag, dispenses coffee, which unfortunately tends to lean towards the more...how shall I say, "ambitious".

Nary a French Vanilla, French Roast, Irish Cream, or even a modestly flavored decaf.
No no no, they have flavors like "Cotton Candy", "Boubon Street Streusal" (Bourbon, being misspelled) "Candy Apple", "Peppermint Medley", "Roasters Select" (Tastes like burnt grounds) and "Eggnog dream". Grody. They might as well have flavors like "Creamed Corn" or "Roast Beef" (That's what the decaf tastes like), or how about "Pickled Herring"? And the only palatable flavor in my experience..has been: "Jamaican Me Crazy". Closest thing we have to "French Vanilla". I weigh the merits on whether it is going to be a good day or bad day at work based solely on that. If not, the day is completely down the tubes. Coffee drinkers, can I get a jittery witness- If you drink the filthy stuff (That I love so much), how do you take your poison???

'Scuse me while I catch my breath

Man oh Maneschewitz. 2 Days in a row I've had douchebags come into my store at closing and want to "look around". Mmmmmkay. Figure it out douchebags!!! 8:30pm means closed! 5pm means closed!!!!

So my baby's show officially "opened" on Friday. 1 good review 1 bad review. Par for the course when it comes to reviews from the TC rags. Although, they were pretty accurate descriptions. I was able to get to the florist for an opening night bouquet and card. Sliced the f##k outta my thumb on the flowers, but I felt comfortable with a very aesthetic bouquet. (No "Super America" roses here baby!! Even though I know deep down she'd be happy if I brought a wilted carnation home...I wanted to make her opening a big deal. I think she like it. But MAN did I stay up too late. )

Sat Night, the Jabas came over for cocktails and a little "Mudslinger". He was EARLY, meaning he caught me in my robe and socks while I was lighting candles. It probably came across as a half assed seduction scene. I promise I'll have Skyy next time you stop over. And maybe real Martini glasses instead of the small ones. I'm back to being a shit host. : ( Thanks again though for being my "man-date". KWT told me I she thought I was a woman and ALSO that I was Jabas' date. Great, one more thing to feel reeeeeally good about. I'm now a big, fat, ugly woman. I've changed the direction of this blog entirely.

The show itself was okay. I had heard of some production problems during the rehearsal and it showed through in places. Pseudo-mean comment aside, Karen WT is a riot and had me in stiches every time she was on stage. Laurine Price was also good, and super cute...but for some strange reason I though she was AEA after "Hair"...Hmmmmm

Afterwards, J and I hit Tracys for snacks and booze. Thanks to SF and JM for joining us afterwards. We had some lively discussions regarding the TC theatre scene, and it got my brain racing. So I may post at Callboard.org. (Where you'll find my reviews for the shows) Jabas...will probably never drive home with me again. ("WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING A##HOLE!!" "AHHHH F### YOU...BIIIIITCCH!!! Seriously...they make me weep for the future. Do not cross, when the car is crossing.)

Sunday Biggie came over and fixed my PC (again) and then it was off for 2 shows- Monsters, W and F at the Loring and AG at the chan. Lots of theatre and I think that I'll get into my post-show diatribes a later time.

It's getting cold folks. I'm cutting 2 holes in my Kenneth Cole sweater. Know what I mean?

ps: Kai-Ser....Power Cardio ='s Power GAAAAYYYYY!!!!! (I am kidding.) I'm liking my routine all right bro'. I just need about 6 more hours a day to work out as much as I'd like and get that coveted 6-pack. Right now it's important to me to get to the dojo 3 times a week minimum. So, I stay with the "4 Pack" and hate my nipples.

When you have BDD, you don't like yourself in your BVD's

I got another eye roll today after I made a "chubster" comment about myself. Folks, I want to let y'all in on a little secret- I know that I'm not obese. I do.

Body Dysmorphic Disorder is when you look at yourself in the mirror and you don't like what you see. It isn't technically an "eating" disorder, although they can sometimes hold hand (Me? I love food/love eating and I hate barfing. Capisce?) but when I stand in front of a mirror in my glory, I don't see a well built attractive guy. You become very objective, and hyper critical. I know how I'd like to look, I just don't see it.

Rationale? (Not that it would make a lot of sense, or that there is ANY justification outside the fact that I'm an absolute Loon.)

Maybe it was reading too many comics as a kid. (Seeing those "superhero" physiques) Maybe it was growing up a little on the chunky side. (The truffle shuffle woulda been easy. Kids at my school liked slapping your tummy with a spit-wet open palm) Or my first boy-girl hug when Angie W told me she loved my hair...and my love handles.

Could be the 3 cheeseburgers and a shake from Mickey D's I'd get daily as a young man, or the girlfriends who loved eating out- (Every damn day) Or the young lady who cheated on me with dude she called "The hot guy from Health Class...he's a body builder you know??" That got me a little self consciuous. Granted, I weighed about 40 sandwiches more than I weigh now. Or as recently as about 3 years ago, practicing kata's stripped to the waist in my living room and hearing the old gf roommate laugh at me and say "It's kinda funny how your stomach sticks out in front." Or 2 weeks ago when a buddy came over and saw a picture of me poolside, and said "Wow you look bigger, how many years ago was that?" I said, "It was last month- in Vegas" The picture is now my motivation to stay in shape.

Or maybe, how my raven haired fiancee' is so very beautiful, and in great shape to boot...(Most days she'd disagree with me on both counts, but we both do this to ourselves. To her credit, she has given me the best encouragement: "If you think you look that way, DO something about it. At least working out you'll feel better." BTW This is the girl that loves her nightly Cow Tracks ice cream and cookies.)


Point is, I'm in tune with my machine. My weight fluctuates within a 10-15 lb radius depending on how I eat, and how active I am. Where I gain weight, is right on the old belly and handles. When I start exercising, I really only lose it off of my face, arms, and legs 1st...tummy last.

Since my dad went in for an angioplasty years ago, my fam took a more conscientious approach to our diet. (Well, he still likes his Culvers.) I try to be active, watch what I eat (and the content), studied A & P in college (well, before theater) and even went so far as to (almost) getting certified as a trainer. Still, I don't like my bod. I used to think if I wasn't good looking, then maybe I could be well built. But, I got stuck with a pretty dorky body frame and a messed up metabolism. And now, fat kid nipples.

I still get teased, ordering grilled chicken, salads, lo-fat muffins (They really suck...trust me) 86'ing mayo and cheese from sandwiches. ( I still like a good steak now and then) staying away from sweets and candy, drinking Diet beverages.

So you see guys, it isn't narcissism, or self abuse, it's more of an casual affected self-loathing. I don't look at other folks and judge or critique them and their bodies or shapes, on the contrary I love all sorts of nudity. (P, chill out) and I've been the "go-to fitness guy" at my office, writing health and wellness articles for our departmental newsletter- Something I'm all too happy to do, especially with a lot of unhappy and unfit suburbanite folks who need to get a little more active. And there are the "Good Nude Days" when I think I look okay. Then, there are other days when I could really care less.

You're brave, Kaiser and Raven, for walking around like you did on H'ween. I think I would've needed another 3 months of working out to get into that kinda fighting shape.

Meantime, I need to get my hand out of the Baked Lays in my desk drawer.

Busykins, Busykins and Culture shock

It's already gonna be a busy one folks.

Tonight I go to future brother- in- laws swearing in ceremony. (He'll be "5-0" for the Crystal PD.)
Tomorrow, back to the bump and grind of the 2 jobby day. (I pray that the costume shop will be quiet the weekend following H'ween)
Saturday, more Kung-Fu (btw portland: I completely understand the frustration of having those twitchy achey muscle problems. Since hitting the dojo, I've been plague with starbursts of pain on my feetsies and grrroinage. My darling Julio has a rolled ankle and a pinched nerve in her shoulder from her show already, and she won't get a day off to heal until next monday!) ...and then?

Culture Shock
Saturday night I go out w/Kaiser and Jabas to see "the Mudslinger Party". I was a part of the read through a few months back and it was a funny script. I'll be interested in finally seeing it "live". And I won't lie, if they meet at my place it'll be nice to host for a bit. Kaiser, you are going right? I fear that Josh may attempt taking advantage of me on the date.

Sunday afternoon the fiancee' and I will hit "Monster's Witches and Freaks" at the Loring, and that night I get to see "AG" again at the Chanhassen. (Hey, free dinner and a show. And how I do love their "Chicken Chan")

"MW&F" had a pretty good review in the Press, but the Strib didn't like it all that much. (Flip Floppers) To her credit, Jules did get 2 nice mentions in both reviews for her choreography. She makes me proud folks.

And why, pray tell will I be seeing "AG" again so soon after just seeing it last week? Well, it's a good show, free din-din, and a chance to spend a little (little) QT with the Future Wife and her family. I won't lie. I like Musicals. Truly I do. I like being in 'em, and (If they're good) I like to see them. Saw "Cats" 5 times. No lie. She was freakin good in that show...but damn, did she get thin from all that dancing. (Like, you know, "wiry muscle-y" thin. Not skinny, mind you. It's just weird to see that much muscle all ripply flippy underneath skin that close up!)

Well...crap.

It seems very possible that we'll be suffering through 4 more years of the same mongering regime. (Although, it ain't over til it's over, or until the last chad has been punched. Damn you Ohio...Damn you...) Harumph.


My feet hurt. Bad. I've 86'ed Ibuprofen and pain killers from my morning pill-poppin regimen in order to ascertain where exactly the ow'ies are located. (Seriously, I only take a multi-vite and some herbals. Thass all. ) But durn rass & frass, I'm one hurtin' unit. Love Hate relationship with karate right now.

Raven's blog and my achey dogs makes me think of dancing. I haven't been dancing in an age. A lot of it is lack of time, but also it kinda ties back in to why I don't go bar hopping or clubbing any more. It's like this, see?:

After being a serial monogamist in HS and my 1st year of college, I started to cut loose a little more . Frat parties, cast parties, and oh the clubs: Tropix, Waterworks, the Goldrush (Ughh, see if any of y'all remember that dump)Ground Zero, the Saloon (Yup. My "Techno" phase and I thought it had the best music. And when I was a little more Naive I thought it was cool that the people didn't mind if I wasn't wearing a shirt and my underpants were sticking out. Even funnier was how before my friend "S" came out, he ALWAYS wanted to go there : ), TNT, NRG, Industry, Banana Ho's, the Onion, 1st Ave (RIP), Glam Slam (nee' Quest. I hate it too, G and R ), Gabby's, the Metro. Some places with Dance Floors the size of an ashtray, pissy uptight people, horny dudes who...not getting a late night hook up, would vent their frustration on whoever was right next to them. (Occasionally my group) The corny bikini "shot" girls, the shirtless mimbo bouncers....It was a glorious time. The screens, flashers (That was my friend Ana. She was a nut, but I did love her spontaneity) the occasional cigarette burns.

After college, it became more about chasing "the specials". I formed new habit patterns, which went a little somethin' like dis:
Sunday, Tracys Bar & Grill for the Steak Specials and wooden nickels (& Vikings football) back to one of our apts for X-Files and booze.
Monday: Karaoke at the 90's
Tuesday: Trivia @ William's and 2 for ones.
Thursday: Back to Tracy's for TACO'S!!!!
Friday's- You get to whatever bar by 6 to start humping the happy hour.
Saturdays: Don't remember too much. Usually hipster clubs like Dakota or "The Lounge".
I had a flexible schedule at work, so I'd come in (eyes usually bloodshot) around 11.

There was plenty of naughtiness too, late at night. Plenty of pillowcases that smelled like ciggies and booze the next day....And after destroying my hotel room on my 25th (Golden) Birthday, I got a little too much perspective.
I made the mistake of asking a gal I had been, (ahem) "dancing with" if she wanted to "Get Serious" (I thought I was ready!!!) and she shot me down. That next week she brought her new BF to Williams, so I used that as an impetus to stop going there. (Ry-Gonn, that's why I have a nasty attitude about bar trivia. But I still love to answer those damnable questions.) Other reminders of how I needed some time off came about when I saw other ex's bringing their new BF's to hang out with. I became a "genin". That guy. The fringey quirky dude who's fun at parties. Bring him over, get him drunk, watch him make an ass of himself. And I would. (I have troubles with big groups when I'm drinking. I forget conversations too easily because I can't listen as well as I could. So I ask the same question over and over again. Funny again how well I DID listen back when I would try to get some.)

So I quitski. No more specials, no more 2 bottles of Morgan a week. And have become subsequently, quite boring. And quite insane.

I stopped hanging out with certain bad influences (Dudes who started doing coke. Don't get me on a "DARE" kick, but I very nearly beat them), got new friends (Love you small theatre mafia), got a gurlyfriend who was very serious and very focused, started drinking veeno as opposed to hard booziekins and beers. (Subsequently, she and I split. Different directions in life and all. But that is a tale best left buried 'neath the sands of time)

And I've grown slowly more insane. I don't know what it is. I guess need big shake ups to make changes in my lifestyle. I really need to force myself out of my comfort zone. (I call it a "little drill sergeant" telling myself what to do) Otherwise you'd all find me on a couch, with a cocktail watching the History channel. And I wouldn't be getting married. To "Le Bombshell". I'm fucked up. Really. Can't shut down the brain, and sometimes the mouth. JM is my saint though. She's just as fired up as I am, and that is the most wonderful thing to have in your life.

And we're gonna dance a lot on New Years. We did last year. And come to think about it I did bust out a little "1984" action in Saint Cloud last month. I haven't done the helicopter in ages. : )

Raven...I am Spider-Man. It was either that or I paint my face blue and wear a kilt. : )

Go vote...NOW!!!

That's about all I got. As a favor. To me.

Not that I think that anyone reading this blog is a "non-voter"...but, yeah.

I was getting a soda yesterday at our little "convenience store" and I overheard some guy lambasting gay marriage and how he doesn't agree with it morally...AND while he was digging for pennies (to add his additional 2 cents) how it can only serve to ruin medical insurance for major companies as well as jacking up premiums because...brace yourself folks...because of the # of AIDS cases they would have to cover.

Guys. I let him have it. I admonished him for being a narrow minded douchebag, and that I imagined that if they are married, they would have to get tested prior to their union, JUST LIKE US'M STRAIGHT FOLK, and that if they are IN a union, that would prooobably lower their level of promiscuity and opportunities to have unprotected seeeex(Outside of, y'know, the OTHER methods of transmittal)JUST LIKE US BREEDERS!

Annnnd that several major corporations have instituted same-sex benefits, and their 3rd quarter earnings and rates of attrition don't seem to have been affected.

That and the "video" that came out written by Mr. Osama has got me a little fired up.

Vote. It ain't a choice as far as I'm concerned.

What did the ghost say to the bee?

BOOBIE!!!

That was for Jabas.

Busy weekend kids, so let's get to the poop quickly:
Friday: 2 tours. Both buses were packed. Whilst visiting the Chauncey Griggs Mansion (Most haunted house in St. Paul) we were accosted by Olga the Scary German Lady. Ask me about it and I'll tell you. No boobies were seen on the bus, but a weird effing apparition was seen at Oakland Cemetery. I don't want to say much more about that, but it was just weird.

Sats: Worked out a lot. (Hamstrings feel like piano wire today after Saturday's class) and then headed to the Costume Shop. The day before Halloween. It was a nightmare folks. (And the bosses neglected to tell us that they were keeping the store open late. ) I hated everyone in that store. Everyone.
"Does this place sell costumes?" "No, we're a restaurant, but we get that sometimes..." There were some boobies there...but nothing too exciting.

Sunday: Raked up hella leaves (6 bags, totalling 16 so far this fall) went to Hanover to see my niece and nephews and then back home to hand out candies. I saw some boobies at home, but was quickly asked to stop trying to get in the shower with her while I was fully clothed. (At least I tried...) After she left for work, I cobbled together what last minute costumage I could ("Battle Damaged" Die Spinne. I don't think I did half bad considering I whipped the mask together) My first group of T o T's was in the form of a veritable mob (No shite, 35 kids AT ONCE were on my stoop screaming...it was pretty darn scary) after this was a done, I decided on making my bi-annual trip to the market to see some peeps, and probably some boobies. I figured a little napski would help me out, so I went to bed.

And almost didn't get up again. 10:15 pm and I prrrroooobably would have stayed asleep had the phone not rang. I nearly didn't go, Kaiser.

However, This little piggy did get to the market. Quite a few (covered) boobies were seen, on both the mens and the womens...

Fellow bloggers were dressed as:
Kaiser= Gay Porn star (Ok Ok...a pugilist. He had his moobs on display. Both you and Carlton, I swear. Closet Exhibitionists) ; )
Jabas= Serial Killer. (They look like everybody else) And MAN what a head a hair that guy has now. I wish my hair could look cool when it gets longer. I just wind up with a messy 'fro. And this dude pulls off that cool '70's poster boy chic.
G= Die Fledermaus S+M
Raven= That was nice costume lady. I'm just glad I was wearing a 'cup, is all I'm sayin.
Really G, you're a lucky man since not that many ladies can go out wearing somethin' like that.

3 glasses of wine later and I was ready for bed. I never stay up late on a Sunday, and I'm feeling it today. $21 for 3 glasses of wine? This is why I drink at home.

At home, my costume was both complimented and ridiculed simultaneously. She was already in bed wearing her flannel jammies with a few of her shirt buttons undone...I commented and her response was: "So?"

I tell ya folks, I don't think Peter Parker could've gotten out of his costume faster than I did : )

Boobies.