Since my whiney mcBitcherson last post had a tinge of frass, I thought I'd leave you with a Tuesday smile...I give you: Georgie airing out his balls, Oscar night 2007.
Sometimes...he just...does this.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Not so maudlyn...
Since my whiney mcBitcherson last post had a tinge of frass, I thought I'd leave you with a Tuesday smile...I give you: Georgie airing out his balls, Oscar night 2007.
Sometimes...he just...does this.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Painfully embarrassed...
So...
I'm sitting here typing in pain. Sore. And sore-er than when I was heaving cement last summer. About the same, but a smidge worse. Like, if I heaved cement...went to sparring...and RSvP lands a nice solid round kick below my rib guard in my floating rib. Sore.
My gal was frassin' up in the Cloud of Saintliness, and I had a chance to go to a CB gathering at Davey's with a Hawaiian Luau theme. I had it all. Recently purchased Hawaiian shirt (Me, of all people. Hawaiian Shirtless.) Booze. A full tummy. Swim Trunks for the hot tub. All adding up to a good time in my estimates.
And it was, to be sure. People were frassin'. I was my old obnoxious self. I made a few party fouls (Cursing a bit, when there were little munchkins present. Talking over folks, per normal. Being bossy. Throwing snowballs at poor BWJ like I'm the high school bully) By 1am I was loopy, and ready for bed time. (Not the 25 year old spring chicken, and soaking for a goodly amount of time while imbibing made for a sleepy buzzy P ) The hostess acknowledged as much and despite my stupid protests I knew she was right. And I felt better for being smart.
There was also our state High School Tournament blizzard that rolled in on Sats. So, we already had over10 inches of snow on the ground by that point.
When I had determined myself fit for driving an hour later, I headed out to brave the elements hoping to spend the night in my own warm (Albeit girlfriend-less...sniff...) bed.
Everything was fine for the first, oh, 2 blocks. Then I got myself stuck. Stuck stuck. At 2 am.
Some folks were walking and tried to help. After they left, I managed to creep 20 more feet and wedge myself perpindicular to the street. I got out, tried pushing from behind, then from my door. When I slipped and landed face first-well, my knee, palm, and elbow kept me from landing on my forehead. Well, I began to despair a bit. I finally (After managing to nearly fry my transmission and brakes trying to "rock" myself free 20 times) pulled into what I thought was a church parking lot and gave up. Knowing I was only 2 blocks away and grateful I wore longjohns, deep weather clothes, and my Sorel's- I decided to head back. The streets and sidewalks were drifting, and due to a thigh-Deep drift and a strong gust of wind I went down again. And after feeling this weather was better suited for Anne Bancroft and a team of huskies I made it back and they graciously let me crash.
I woke up with various lil knicks and owies. And a nice abrasion on my lip that looked like a herpe. After BKFST I noticed that my phone was no where to be found when I went to call my fam and Dorajar to let them know my whereabouts. We all went out to shovel out our hosts driveway before departing for my car. On the way, we stopped to help 3 or 4 stuckies as we came across them. Pushing caddies uphills. Shovelling with the extra shovels we threw in his truck. It was cathartic, but tiring. By the time we hit my car I realized that it wasn't a school or church, but an apartment with private driveway I'd hobbled into. We jumped out to shovel me out, and were joined by another neighborhood samaratin who'd been shovelling out his neighbors. I was so anxious to get in my car and get home that I left my man-purse in his car.
Still...no cell phone.
At home, the plows had came (And, cough cough. Bless the Nordeast Mipple plowers who'd cleared TONS more street space than the South Mipples fella's) However, there was a 2 foot berm on the West side blocking any attempt to park. So, I turned on my blinkers...went in and grabbed a shovel, and cleared a heavy...icy section that would just fit my car. By the time I got in my house I was sweating...quiet...and torqued that I had lost my phone. After calling ma and Dora, I reflected before going back out to finish shovelling out around my car. More heavy. Even being "back safe" it was some heavy frass. (*To his credit, Jellybean had been shovelling the walk periodically throughout the night and morning. His trips to shovel were little "pushing bouts" as he called them to keep the work down)
I took a hot shower, and waited for Dorajar to come over from the Cloud.
Instead of the normal routine on Oscars to go to a kick-ass and fun party, we stayed in with the Bean and Georgie. I took a high dose painkiller while sitting on the couch and drooling over my Indian food. And passed out when it was done. Today? I had that hateful, groggy, hazy, post-painkiller frame of mind that made the a.m. feel like an out of body experience.
And it hurts to breath. A lot.
So, there it is. If you know my cell # and want to reach me, I'm at home now. ("I can only be reached on my land-line, Tank") I need a new phone. And body. Ouch.
I'm actually glad that it's Monday.
I'm sitting here typing in pain. Sore. And sore-er than when I was heaving cement last summer. About the same, but a smidge worse. Like, if I heaved cement...went to sparring...and RSvP lands a nice solid round kick below my rib guard in my floating rib. Sore.
My gal was frassin' up in the Cloud of Saintliness, and I had a chance to go to a CB gathering at Davey's with a Hawaiian Luau theme. I had it all. Recently purchased Hawaiian shirt (Me, of all people. Hawaiian Shirtless.) Booze. A full tummy. Swim Trunks for the hot tub. All adding up to a good time in my estimates.
And it was, to be sure. People were frassin'. I was my old obnoxious self. I made a few party fouls (Cursing a bit, when there were little munchkins present. Talking over folks, per normal. Being bossy. Throwing snowballs at poor BWJ like I'm the high school bully) By 1am I was loopy, and ready for bed time. (Not the 25 year old spring chicken, and soaking for a goodly amount of time while imbibing made for a sleepy buzzy P ) The hostess acknowledged as much and despite my stupid protests I knew she was right. And I felt better for being smart.
There was also our state High School Tournament blizzard that rolled in on Sats. So, we already had over10 inches of snow on the ground by that point.
When I had determined myself fit for driving an hour later, I headed out to brave the elements hoping to spend the night in my own warm (Albeit girlfriend-less...sniff...) bed.
Everything was fine for the first, oh, 2 blocks. Then I got myself stuck. Stuck stuck. At 2 am.
Some folks were walking and tried to help. After they left, I managed to creep 20 more feet and wedge myself perpindicular to the street. I got out, tried pushing from behind, then from my door. When I slipped and landed face first-well, my knee, palm, and elbow kept me from landing on my forehead. Well, I began to despair a bit. I finally (After managing to nearly fry my transmission and brakes trying to "rock" myself free 20 times) pulled into what I thought was a church parking lot and gave up. Knowing I was only 2 blocks away and grateful I wore longjohns, deep weather clothes, and my Sorel's- I decided to head back. The streets and sidewalks were drifting, and due to a thigh-Deep drift and a strong gust of wind I went down again. And after feeling this weather was better suited for Anne Bancroft and a team of huskies I made it back and they graciously let me crash.
I woke up with various lil knicks and owies. And a nice abrasion on my lip that looked like a herpe. After BKFST I noticed that my phone was no where to be found when I went to call my fam and Dorajar to let them know my whereabouts. We all went out to shovel out our hosts driveway before departing for my car. On the way, we stopped to help 3 or 4 stuckies as we came across them. Pushing caddies uphills. Shovelling with the extra shovels we threw in his truck. It was cathartic, but tiring. By the time we hit my car I realized that it wasn't a school or church, but an apartment with private driveway I'd hobbled into. We jumped out to shovel me out, and were joined by another neighborhood samaratin who'd been shovelling out his neighbors. I was so anxious to get in my car and get home that I left my man-purse in his car.
Still...no cell phone.
At home, the plows had came (And, cough cough. Bless the Nordeast Mipple plowers who'd cleared TONS more street space than the South Mipples fella's) However, there was a 2 foot berm on the West side blocking any attempt to park. So, I turned on my blinkers...went in and grabbed a shovel, and cleared a heavy...icy section that would just fit my car. By the time I got in my house I was sweating...quiet...and torqued that I had lost my phone. After calling ma and Dora, I reflected before going back out to finish shovelling out around my car. More heavy. Even being "back safe" it was some heavy frass. (*To his credit, Jellybean had been shovelling the walk periodically throughout the night and morning. His trips to shovel were little "pushing bouts" as he called them to keep the work down)
I took a hot shower, and waited for Dorajar to come over from the Cloud.
Instead of the normal routine on Oscars to go to a kick-ass and fun party, we stayed in with the Bean and Georgie. I took a high dose painkiller while sitting on the couch and drooling over my Indian food. And passed out when it was done. Today? I had that hateful, groggy, hazy, post-painkiller frame of mind that made the a.m. feel like an out of body experience.
And it hurts to breath. A lot.
So, there it is. If you know my cell # and want to reach me, I'm at home now. ("I can only be reached on my land-line, Tank") I need a new phone. And body. Ouch.
I'm actually glad that it's Monday.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Wait, no, what?
Waiting for the ol' frassy scramblers to get cooking. You know, it looks like a lot of "Better'N Eggs" in there...and by the amount that poured out, it is. But one lil' box only techhhhnically has240 calories in it. And that, my friends, is certainly not enough in the "most important meal of the day" category to sustain a healthy growing boy.
Toast. Definitely adding toast.
Man, this day of days is gonna suck balls. The weather looks for shite, and I just wanna stay in for a long lie down.
Last night I went out to meet Tech and Portana's "kids" so they wouldn't try tearing my nuts off when I first show up to house sit. (Thanks for the food, lady. Sorry I ate it all. I was a hungry hippo) I got my ass lost driving around scenic Mount Rose, and it wasn't long before I noticed that (A) I was low on petrol and (B) I hadn't the foggiest notion of where the fuck I was going. Scay-Ray. Finally I descended on Co Rd 42 and managed to hobble my way to a Holiday station, call Dorajar to say "G'Night" and meander on home. It was near 11:30 though when I got there. Dummy. I threw in the rest of "Matrix" and promptly fell asleep on the loveseat. (Sound Familiar? At least I could get up and get into a bed this time)
Today was 'Fu, and waiting for my folks to call with the results of their inspection. They had a nibble on the old ancestral manse. Keep your fingers crossed, kids. They need that stress to go bye-bye.
The rest of the day:
Make Toast
Study 6, (Make it through re-reading chpts 1 and 2)
Nap,
Stretch,
Lift,
Jog (I'm a bad-ass. What can I say, snow does not provide me with fear)
Check to see if I have a Hawaiian shirt for the party tonight.
Party tonight (Note to self. Bring an actual banana-hammock to scare host's into thinking that's the only suit you brought with you)
Call Dorajar to say "Break a Leg" and "Love you".
Tomorrow? Oscars, clowns. I've only seen maybe 4 of the movies nominated this year, in the ENTIRE show. How lame is that.
ION, My buddy Cookiepants is back in town and we very well may get sushi next week. Why sushi? Because we're both Part Asian, that's why.
IOON, I'm such a nerdy rube...I made Doug Jones a friend on myspace. And Lili's Burlesque. A nerd, and a perv. Great.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Tagged!
6 odd things about me, tagged from the Moped: (Although my knee jerk response "Besides everything that comes out of my mouth?" seemed most appropriate)
Blog about six odd things about yourself, and tag six other bloggers.
I tag:
Portana
MD
Melinite
Uhhhh...Any LJ/Lurkers who frass around this blog. You know who you are. And comment occasionally, wouldja? It's so cold and lonely in the world.
1-I'm pretty obsessive compulsive about cleaning. This is odd being that I'm such an ADD addled flibbertygibbet who'd just as soon put something off (ex: Sunday Series Six Study Session for buddies? Yeah. Drove Dorajar NUTS while she was studying her Micro-Frassonomics homework. I was content to bob my head to the "Eric Clapton Unplugged" muzak and stare outside)
This is also odd because, if I had my way, I'd leave the clothes from the dryer in the hamper and just pick out what I need to wear downstairs. (If it wasn't so gawdawful cold down there)
2- Five years of college? No diploma. How'z that for an honest admission? I had one class left to take and prrrrrrt, no degree. I started gigging regularly in 1998, and that was that.
3-I wear the same cologne I started wearing my junior year of High School. Not, like, "still-still" wear it. But crammed in with the Aqua Di Gio, Davidoff Cool Water, Dolce and Gabbana, and Perry Ellis...is a lil' bottle of Preferred Stock, by Stetson. It was 1st received as a gift from an old g/f and it sort of got associated with "me". (Truth. While the other boys were drowning themselves in Polo or Drakkar, I was getting by with a $10 one ounce spray bottle. )
Y'all know that I've always had a soft spot for cologne. Truly. It stems from pooberty, when I first started producing man-funk, and needed to start investing in deodorant as a daily device. One day, I found a dusty bottle of "Hai, Karate". (Ironic, yes?) in the bathroom closet. I wore that green, smelly, toxic shit far too liberally. It got to the point that when I was in gym class, my sweat would cause it to stain my white gym shirt green. I weaned myself off of it, (Read: ran out) and during school shopping my Freshperson year of HS, I convinced mama-san to invest in some knock-off brand found at TJ Maxx (Mom would NEVER let us wear designer shit. Don't even get me started when I came home and showed her my new Girbaud's in the 8th grade. I nearly caught death)
FF to 1992, I get in my little g/f inspired X-mas stocking...Preferred...Stock? The rest is Frasstory.
Now, "The Good Stuff" (As I refer to the pricier designer stank) I wear out to events. Date nights, theatre (Where I like to think that I'm conscientious enough to avoid bathing in it, which pisses off other patrons) parties. I think that I have a metabolism and body chemistry that actually compliments certain fragrances without seeming like I'm "wearing cologne" (At least that's what I've been told by both SSGF's and GF's alike. Hey, P? Do you always form your world based on the opinions of your significant other? I kid. Really, my body runs hot. You know? Sooooo I give the "candle effect")
The Preferred Coc...Stock? That's my daily funk. So next time y'all are at the Bullseye, give'er a whiff and think of me. (I still get paranoid when I'm at work and when someone near me sneezes? Yeah. I blame me.)
4- I like "cool" pillows. I'm a night time pillow flipper.
5- When I was a kid, I'd dress up as Spider Man and run around the neighborhood climbing tree's. What's odd about this is that I would get up ridiculously high in the tree, with out any hand holds within reach. (Per Mama P- I would "shimmy" up the tree trunk) The homeowners would then have to call my parents who would have to come over with a ladder and get me to come down. Now, two caveats to me having been a climber:
The first, is that a very similar incident happened while I was in the Boy Scouts. We were camping at Fred C. Anderson Scout Camp (Remember RSvP? The infamous "Lost M-1 Field Jacket Incident"?) I was climbing with a couple of other scouts around this sandstone cliff face. I got up to a plateau and it was too high for me to continue up that particular route. Of course, the face being sandstone the butte I was perched on gave way...forcing me to hop back and effectively removing my ability to get back down. After being perched for close to an hour, I kicked at the sandstone some more and "rode" the falling piece down to another platform. Not the smartest, but it worked.
The second...is that now? I get vertigo sometimes. It's kind of bad here at work (We have these long-assed walkways that are flanked by a 30 foot drop out of your peripheral vision.)
So yeah. Great climber. Not so great at getting back down again.
6- I'm mostly to partly certain that I have a bit of "Wolverine" in me. (I ate an action figure when I was a kid) See, besides the cartiliginous mass in my nose that's been crunked no less than 3 times in childhood accidents? I've never broken a bone. Ever. And I heal fast and don't get sick all that much. (Knock knock) The cut on my thumb that I knicked a vein and bled like a bitch? 6 days later? All but gone. (Well, I was left with that stupid ass healing/peeling skin problem) When other people frass about soreness or being in pain, I sometimes can identify but not too often. I like to be "in touch" with owies and soreness b/c I think that's the first step toward recovery.
However, not feeling pain has its drawbacks. I'm deathly afraid I'll get cancer and not realize what it is until too late. boo.
And b/c I'm a gibbet who flibbers- You kids need two more.
# 7
For the last 13 months, I've pretty much had soup for lunch at work for at least 85% of the time-Monday through Frassday. (Barring the days they order in take-out, We have face-to-face meetings, or I plumb forget to bring my lunch and have to get something from the Caf. Which sucks. B/C I ended up spending $8 on a salad bar salad at the final weigh in. And WTF, why have the f#ckin' scale at the very last thing before you pay and not before? I mean, I woulda been up shit creek had I not brought down the extra cash!)
Oh, #8?
I have a wickedly awesome sense recall. I'll forget, you know, names...big picture shit. But the details I can store for ages. Don't ask. I know, it makes my ever telling you a story the longest and lamest experience of your life but it's true. De. Tails.
First encounters (Redwright I met at CRPC after "A Few Good Men", Feej was at "Leaning Tower", MD Was upstairs at the Illusion Theatre after I'd finished a crying jag. Dorajar was at the small theatre mafia holiday party December of '05. Melinite was at a Mu audition in October '05. It was raining. Really badly) Certain phone Numbers. (My two best friends in Elementary School) The weather on the day my mom took me to see "Ghostbusters" for the first time at the theatre back in 1984. The musty smell of the comic shop I went to as a kid and bought Star Trek officer patches. The bitter cold of hockey practice and the way the Hartkopf warming house smelled of sweat and hockey gear.
The perfume of women I knew in high school...(Jovan White Musk, Exclamation, Head over Heels, Jessica McClintock, and Liz Claiborne will always remind me of then.) Weird shit. You know? Like when my dad asked my big brother and I to each memorize the square root of a particular number on a calculator. (Mine was "10", or- 3.1622776. Check it, bitches. I dare you.)
#9
I like symmetery. Being symmetrical. Balance.
#10
I make up words/syntax regularly. It's gotten progressively worse over the past 11 months or so, to the point where I think I alienate my friends and family. (It doesn't just stop and start with "frass", yo) Song lyrics, whatever. I'm a terrible underpant.
#11
I really, truly, cannot take the world seriously. It amazes me that I've survived working in corporate culture in a mid-tier capacity this long. It's branded me as a "high energy" co-worker in most instances, but I won't be a manager b/c they all think that, while great with the staff- Would probably not be a good candidate in that position. Truly.
Along those lines, I find the funny in life a lot faster than most peeps. Funny to me. You know? Double entendres. Telling the guy at the coffee shop that I want "just a smidgen of room" for cream. Then following up with "You know, if you look it up? You find 'smidgen' is a perfectably acceptable measurement device"...and then his co-worker smirks and she says "We know. There are three 'titches' to a smidgen".
Now, there are some bittersweet ends to this besides not getting hitched up the corporate turd-pole. Not taking things for serious has caused the end of several previous relationships. (Starting in 9th grade when she called me "Weird" to recently where I was called much much worse.) It also diminishes my "serious" value as a performer...which relegates me to smaller roles, gregarious hammy roles...the side kick. (Not to mention my small head. I think I would get a lot more commercial work if I didn't have such a tiny gob!) But it's the differences that make the world unique. IMHO. And it's why I love life for this very reason.
There is funny everywhere you look, if you're open to see it.
Blog about six odd things about yourself, and tag six other bloggers.
I tag:
Portana
MD
Melinite
Uhhhh...Any LJ/Lurkers who frass around this blog. You know who you are. And comment occasionally, wouldja? It's so cold and lonely in the world.
1-I'm pretty obsessive compulsive about cleaning. This is odd being that I'm such an ADD addled flibbertygibbet who'd just as soon put something off (ex: Sunday Series Six Study Session for buddies? Yeah. Drove Dorajar NUTS while she was studying her Micro-Frassonomics homework. I was content to bob my head to the "Eric Clapton Unplugged" muzak and stare outside)
This is also odd because, if I had my way, I'd leave the clothes from the dryer in the hamper and just pick out what I need to wear downstairs. (If it wasn't so gawdawful cold down there)
2- Five years of college? No diploma. How'z that for an honest admission? I had one class left to take and prrrrrrt, no degree. I started gigging regularly in 1998, and that was that.
3-I wear the same cologne I started wearing my junior year of High School. Not, like, "still-still" wear it. But crammed in with the Aqua Di Gio, Davidoff Cool Water, Dolce and Gabbana, and Perry Ellis...is a lil' bottle of Preferred Stock, by Stetson. It was 1st received as a gift from an old g/f and it sort of got associated with "me". (Truth. While the other boys were drowning themselves in Polo or Drakkar, I was getting by with a $10 one ounce spray bottle. )
Y'all know that I've always had a soft spot for cologne. Truly. It stems from pooberty, when I first started producing man-funk, and needed to start investing in deodorant as a daily device. One day, I found a dusty bottle of "Hai, Karate". (Ironic, yes?) in the bathroom closet. I wore that green, smelly, toxic shit far too liberally. It got to the point that when I was in gym class, my sweat would cause it to stain my white gym shirt green. I weaned myself off of it, (Read: ran out) and during school shopping my Freshperson year of HS, I convinced mama-san to invest in some knock-off brand found at TJ Maxx (Mom would NEVER let us wear designer shit. Don't even get me started when I came home and showed her my new Girbaud's in the 8th grade. I nearly caught death)
FF to 1992, I get in my little g/f inspired X-mas stocking...Preferred...Stock? The rest is Frasstory.
Now, "The Good Stuff" (As I refer to the pricier designer stank) I wear out to events. Date nights, theatre (Where I like to think that I'm conscientious enough to avoid bathing in it, which pisses off other patrons) parties. I think that I have a metabolism and body chemistry that actually compliments certain fragrances without seeming like I'm "wearing cologne" (At least that's what I've been told by both SSGF's and GF's alike. Hey, P? Do you always form your world based on the opinions of your significant other? I kid. Really, my body runs hot. You know? Sooooo I give the "candle effect")
The Preferred Coc...Stock? That's my daily funk. So next time y'all are at the Bullseye, give'er a whiff and think of me. (I still get paranoid when I'm at work and when someone near me sneezes? Yeah. I blame me.)
4- I like "cool" pillows. I'm a night time pillow flipper.
5- When I was a kid, I'd dress up as Spider Man and run around the neighborhood climbing tree's. What's odd about this is that I would get up ridiculously high in the tree, with out any hand holds within reach. (Per Mama P- I would "shimmy" up the tree trunk) The homeowners would then have to call my parents who would have to come over with a ladder and get me to come down. Now, two caveats to me having been a climber:
The first, is that a very similar incident happened while I was in the Boy Scouts. We were camping at Fred C. Anderson Scout Camp (Remember RSvP? The infamous "Lost M-1 Field Jacket Incident"?) I was climbing with a couple of other scouts around this sandstone cliff face. I got up to a plateau and it was too high for me to continue up that particular route. Of course, the face being sandstone the butte I was perched on gave way...forcing me to hop back and effectively removing my ability to get back down. After being perched for close to an hour, I kicked at the sandstone some more and "rode" the falling piece down to another platform. Not the smartest, but it worked.
The second...is that now? I get vertigo sometimes. It's kind of bad here at work (We have these long-assed walkways that are flanked by a 30 foot drop out of your peripheral vision.)
So yeah. Great climber. Not so great at getting back down again.
6- I'm mostly to partly certain that I have a bit of "Wolverine" in me. (I ate an action figure when I was a kid) See, besides the cartiliginous mass in my nose that's been crunked no less than 3 times in childhood accidents? I've never broken a bone. Ever. And I heal fast and don't get sick all that much. (Knock knock) The cut on my thumb that I knicked a vein and bled like a bitch? 6 days later? All but gone. (Well, I was left with that stupid ass healing/peeling skin problem) When other people frass about soreness or being in pain, I sometimes can identify but not too often. I like to be "in touch" with owies and soreness b/c I think that's the first step toward recovery.
However, not feeling pain has its drawbacks. I'm deathly afraid I'll get cancer and not realize what it is until too late. boo.
And b/c I'm a gibbet who flibbers- You kids need two more.
# 7
For the last 13 months, I've pretty much had soup for lunch at work for at least 85% of the time-Monday through Frassday. (Barring the days they order in take-out, We have face-to-face meetings, or I plumb forget to bring my lunch and have to get something from the Caf. Which sucks. B/C I ended up spending $8 on a salad bar salad at the final weigh in. And WTF, why have the f#ckin' scale at the very last thing before you pay and not before? I mean, I woulda been up shit creek had I not brought down the extra cash!)
Oh, #8?
I have a wickedly awesome sense recall. I'll forget, you know, names...big picture shit. But the details I can store for ages. Don't ask. I know, it makes my ever telling you a story the longest and lamest experience of your life but it's true. De. Tails.
First encounters (Redwright I met at CRPC after "A Few Good Men", Feej was at "Leaning Tower", MD Was upstairs at the Illusion Theatre after I'd finished a crying jag. Dorajar was at the small theatre mafia holiday party December of '05. Melinite was at a Mu audition in October '05. It was raining. Really badly) Certain phone Numbers. (My two best friends in Elementary School) The weather on the day my mom took me to see "Ghostbusters" for the first time at the theatre back in 1984. The musty smell of the comic shop I went to as a kid and bought Star Trek officer patches. The bitter cold of hockey practice and the way the Hartkopf warming house smelled of sweat and hockey gear.
The perfume of women I knew in high school...(Jovan White Musk, Exclamation, Head over Heels, Jessica McClintock, and Liz Claiborne will always remind me of then.) Weird shit. You know? Like when my dad asked my big brother and I to each memorize the square root of a particular number on a calculator. (Mine was "10", or- 3.1622776. Check it, bitches. I dare you.)
#9
I like symmetery. Being symmetrical. Balance.
#10
I make up words/syntax regularly. It's gotten progressively worse over the past 11 months or so, to the point where I think I alienate my friends and family. (It doesn't just stop and start with "frass", yo) Song lyrics, whatever. I'm a terrible underpant.
#11
I really, truly, cannot take the world seriously. It amazes me that I've survived working in corporate culture in a mid-tier capacity this long. It's branded me as a "high energy" co-worker in most instances, but I won't be a manager b/c they all think that, while great with the staff- Would probably not be a good candidate in that position. Truly.
Along those lines, I find the funny in life a lot faster than most peeps. Funny to me. You know? Double entendres. Telling the guy at the coffee shop that I want "just a smidgen of room" for cream. Then following up with "You know, if you look it up? You find 'smidgen' is a perfectably acceptable measurement device"...and then his co-worker smirks and she says "We know. There are three 'titches' to a smidgen".
Now, there are some bittersweet ends to this besides not getting hitched up the corporate turd-pole. Not taking things for serious has caused the end of several previous relationships. (Starting in 9th grade when she called me "Weird" to recently where I was called much much worse.) It also diminishes my "serious" value as a performer...which relegates me to smaller roles, gregarious hammy roles...the side kick. (Not to mention my small head. I think I would get a lot more commercial work if I didn't have such a tiny gob!) But it's the differences that make the world unique. IMHO. And it's why I love life for this very reason.
There is funny everywhere you look, if you're open to see it.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Better get these out quick.
Once again, weird dreams ruled the night-
1st one was SR, myself, and the guy who does the scheduling here at my office all sitting around and planning Torch's '07/'08 season. No idea where that one came from.
2nd bit- Sitting around, frassin' online w/Dorajar and I get a Myspace friend request from this guy who an ex dumped me for. Dora asked whether or not I'd accept him and I told her "only on the condition that I can tear out his heart"...(Yikes. Let's get those issues to a happy place, buddy) Then Dora told me that she accepted him as a friend, and that love and peace are and should be unconditional. I told her I still wouldn't, since principal and character were more important to me.
3rd bit...swimming in a shark tank. I know, I know...this completely makes no sense since I have a f#cked up unnatural fear of sharks. But there I am in this salty tank. I see little sharks (No bigger than 4-5 feet long) They look like dog or nurse sharks. Not maneaters. The trainers are floating nearby for safety and telling us how to handle them. I look down and tearing ass up is one of the sharky's that clamps itself down on my hand. It doesn't hurt, per se. The trainer's keep hitting it on the side, hoping it'll get the hint that I'm not plankton. Finally another swimmer comes over and pries it's jaw loose. It swims off, but only to come tearing ass back to clamp down on my hand.
4th bit...I flew again. I love dreams where I fly. It isn't so much that I'm pulling a Superman, but it's almost like swimming in air. (Pulling myself up like I'm doing a butterfly stroke) This time I flew through an ornate theatre, periodically needing to duck to avoid hitting my head on the balcony....
The 1st bit I know is embedded in the fact that I auditioned for her company last weekend. So that's there. Why the scheduling dude showed up, I have no idea.
2nd bit, probably has to do with this weird influx of ex-gf's finding me on myspace. And that I found a nude pic of an ex (Who cheated on me with 5 dudes) when I was downstairs digging through my picture box last weekend.
3rd bit, was b/c of this:http://www.sharkadventures.co.za/activities/cage_diving.asp
Wiki led me there after I was reading an article on Urban Legends. They chum. You snorkel (Or if you are scuba certified, get dropped a few feet) shark passes the cage. "Cage goes in the water...you go in the cage...Sharks in the water....Farewell, and adieu...to you old Spanish Lady..." Even if I had the $1,500 per day they charge...I'd like to tender a hardy "Fuck No" maybe.
The 4th? Fuck, who knows. I should get a prescription for Adoral or Ritalin or some ADHD drug...
1st one was SR, myself, and the guy who does the scheduling here at my office all sitting around and planning Torch's '07/'08 season. No idea where that one came from.
2nd bit- Sitting around, frassin' online w/Dorajar and I get a Myspace friend request from this guy who an ex dumped me for. Dora asked whether or not I'd accept him and I told her "only on the condition that I can tear out his heart"...(Yikes. Let's get those issues to a happy place, buddy) Then Dora told me that she accepted him as a friend, and that love and peace are and should be unconditional. I told her I still wouldn't, since principal and character were more important to me.
3rd bit...swimming in a shark tank. I know, I know...this completely makes no sense since I have a f#cked up unnatural fear of sharks. But there I am in this salty tank. I see little sharks (No bigger than 4-5 feet long) They look like dog or nurse sharks. Not maneaters. The trainers are floating nearby for safety and telling us how to handle them. I look down and tearing ass up is one of the sharky's that clamps itself down on my hand. It doesn't hurt, per se. The trainer's keep hitting it on the side, hoping it'll get the hint that I'm not plankton. Finally another swimmer comes over and pries it's jaw loose. It swims off, but only to come tearing ass back to clamp down on my hand.
4th bit...I flew again. I love dreams where I fly. It isn't so much that I'm pulling a Superman, but it's almost like swimming in air. (Pulling myself up like I'm doing a butterfly stroke) This time I flew through an ornate theatre, periodically needing to duck to avoid hitting my head on the balcony....
The 1st bit I know is embedded in the fact that I auditioned for her company last weekend. So that's there. Why the scheduling dude showed up, I have no idea.
2nd bit, probably has to do with this weird influx of ex-gf's finding me on myspace. And that I found a nude pic of an ex (Who cheated on me with 5 dudes) when I was downstairs digging through my picture box last weekend.
3rd bit, was b/c of this:http://www.sharkadventures.co.za/activities/cage_diving.asp
Wiki led me there after I was reading an article on Urban Legends. They chum. You snorkel (Or if you are scuba certified, get dropped a few feet) shark passes the cage. "Cage goes in the water...you go in the cage...Sharks in the water....Farewell, and adieu...to you old Spanish Lady..." Even if I had the $1,500 per day they charge...I'd like to tender a hardy "Fuck No" maybe.
The 4th? Fuck, who knows. I should get a prescription for Adoral or Ritalin or some ADHD drug...
Feels good...
So good good good. Things are well. Well-ish. I still need to start working more dilligently on studying for my 6...however I just received some good news-
No Refunds'll be performing in this years "Five Fifths of the Fringe" in April. For the uninitiated, this means they take a piece of classic theatre/film and chop it up in to 5 bits. Handing out sections to 5 different theatre companies to present their particular "Take" on the material. Previous years have had "5/5ths of the Godfather" and "5/5ths of Casablanca"...ah hell, read all about it here: http://www.fringefestival.org/pdf/press/FiveFifthsSTD.pdf
This year..."The Wizard of Oz". I have no idee how they gonna kung fook that shite up. What I do know is that you need to be concerned when you get an email from Matty-boom-boom saying "Would you be willing to learn the Chinese Long Sword?"
Noooo. Noooo, stop. No really. I can't. Seriously. Just...leave the guilt out..okay. Fine. I'll learn the stupid sword.
I really hate this shit, can you tell?
Annnnnd, they're fixing to do a remount of "GMIKFTH" in May. Cool. I might even get a chance to be behind the mike this time around. (How funny'd that be, one of the "voices" actually getting into a fracas.) Funny how what started as only a one night fundraiser turns into a two week run. They ain't got no mama. Truthfully, It'll be nice to extend the run. I don't think that neeeearly enough folk got out to see it the 1st time around. 'Course, that means handing my own a$$ to myself for two to three weekends. (Sighs) I'm gonna buy stock in advil.
What this also means is stepping up training. (Which started slowly after "Lootie Patootie") I've started getting up all ripe and early and wailing on ze muscles. Stretching out doubly in the a.m. and p.m. as well as, Lord help me- Trying to work my way up to sitting in a deeeeeep horseback riding stance for one minute intervals. Running again starts Friday. (And thank goodness for the weather warm up.) Actually, the old bodski is feeling better. Good..er. I was anticipating boo-too soreness but so far, so good.
ION- She who is a girl that is a friend that resides in secret asked if I'd audition for she and the Mann. ("Macbeth" be the play. Fall be the season she runs. Did I just turn into a fucking pirate? Yar!) Gotta callback which is also awesome blossom. Read for the same roles I played when I did the show up in the 'Cloud back in '99. I won't lie, I'd love to do the show. Hell, I'd like to do some great Shakespeare again. (And...hurm...work with Redwright, LSA, KWT, and the aforementioned Super Secret GF. Working with really talented people makes me want to get better as an actor.) I'll hear yay oder nay when she gets back. In the meantime, I ain't finna hold my bref.
That is all. Hope everyone had a quiet, relaxing, and productive "Singles Awareness Day". (Dorajar and I 86'ed our original plans for a nice night out and subbed wine, AWESOME take out Thai, and "SFU". We're on season 5. I can almost see the light)
Oh..."Chai Thai" on cedar is a hidden gem. Cheap eats (Almost every menu item is under $9)
No Refunds'll be performing in this years "Five Fifths of the Fringe" in April. For the uninitiated, this means they take a piece of classic theatre/film and chop it up in to 5 bits. Handing out sections to 5 different theatre companies to present their particular "Take" on the material. Previous years have had "5/5ths of the Godfather" and "5/5ths of Casablanca"...ah hell, read all about it here: http://www.fringefestival.org/pdf/press/FiveFifthsSTD.pdf
This year..."The Wizard of Oz". I have no idee how they gonna kung fook that shite up. What I do know is that you need to be concerned when you get an email from Matty-boom-boom saying "Would you be willing to learn the Chinese Long Sword?"
Noooo. Noooo, stop. No really. I can't. Seriously. Just...leave the guilt out..okay. Fine. I'll learn the stupid sword.
I really hate this shit, can you tell?
Annnnnd, they're fixing to do a remount of "GMIKFTH" in May. Cool. I might even get a chance to be behind the mike this time around. (How funny'd that be, one of the "voices" actually getting into a fracas.) Funny how what started as only a one night fundraiser turns into a two week run. They ain't got no mama. Truthfully, It'll be nice to extend the run. I don't think that neeeearly enough folk got out to see it the 1st time around. 'Course, that means handing my own a$$ to myself for two to three weekends. (Sighs) I'm gonna buy stock in advil.
What this also means is stepping up training. (Which started slowly after "Lootie Patootie") I've started getting up all ripe and early and wailing on ze muscles. Stretching out doubly in the a.m. and p.m. as well as, Lord help me- Trying to work my way up to sitting in a deeeeeep horseback riding stance for one minute intervals. Running again starts Friday. (And thank goodness for the weather warm up.) Actually, the old bodski is feeling better. Good..er. I was anticipating boo-too soreness but so far, so good.
ION- She who is a girl that is a friend that resides in secret asked if I'd audition for she and the Mann. ("Macbeth" be the play. Fall be the season she runs. Did I just turn into a fucking pirate? Yar!) Gotta callback which is also awesome blossom. Read for the same roles I played when I did the show up in the 'Cloud back in '99. I won't lie, I'd love to do the show. Hell, I'd like to do some great Shakespeare again. (And...hurm...work with Redwright, LSA, KWT, and the aforementioned Super Secret GF. Working with really talented people makes me want to get better as an actor.) I'll hear yay oder nay when she gets back. In the meantime, I ain't finna hold my bref.
That is all. Hope everyone had a quiet, relaxing, and productive "Singles Awareness Day". (Dorajar and I 86'ed our original plans for a nice night out and subbed wine, AWESOME take out Thai, and "SFU". We're on season 5. I can almost see the light)
Oh..."Chai Thai" on cedar is a hidden gem. Cheap eats (Almost every menu item is under $9)
Is this excessive?
Article on singer Robbie Williams who recently checked himself into rehab: http://imdb.com/news/wenn/2007-02-15/#celeb8
"Three packets of cigarettes, 36 double espresso coffees, anti-depressants and sleeping pills, according to reports."
Annnnnd: "And daily he gets through an incredible 36 super-strength double espresso coffees, 60 Silk Cut cigarettes and around 20 cans of energy drink Red Bull."
Time to switch to the coffee in the green can, Robbie. I usually stop on cup number 19.
Huh. If you cut out the cigarettes and add oatmeal, it almost seems like MD's diet.
; P
"Three packets of cigarettes, 36 double espresso coffees, anti-depressants and sleeping pills, according to reports."
Annnnnd: "And daily he gets through an incredible 36 super-strength double espresso coffees, 60 Silk Cut cigarettes and around 20 cans of energy drink Red Bull."
Time to switch to the coffee in the green can, Robbie. I usually stop on cup number 19.
Huh. If you cut out the cigarettes and add oatmeal, it almost seems like MD's diet.
; P
Monday, February 12, 2007
Eulogy
No. Real time eulogy here. It's been settling in over the course of the day. I just found out today that an actor that I performed with in "Henry V" back in January 2005 was killed in an auto accident by a drunk driver. He was a good kid. Really a good kid. We'd frass backstage before our entrances. He was funny, charming, a little crazy (Always a good sign) and had a smattering of interest in the arts that were martial. More stuff to BS about. He'd tease me about stupid things like how much I talked, going so far as to leaving a loooooong drunk message on my voicemail one night during a cast party I ditched (Back when I was ditching parties left and right) "Tell me one of your stoooooories...HAR HAR". You might recognize the kid from the TI casino commercials where he "challenged the cop to a drag race" (They play it on loop at the 'Dome. Coincidentally enough, that was an audition which was one of the last times I saw him.)
He'd moved out to LA to pursue the dream, and was coming home from a film shoot when it happened. He was 24 years old.
24.
So. Sorry to come back after radio silence with the bad news, but if you are with a loved one...give'em a hug.
Peace, CeeK's. You'll really be missed. You were one helluva talented kid.
He'd moved out to LA to pursue the dream, and was coming home from a film shoot when it happened. He was 24 years old.
24.
So. Sorry to come back after radio silence with the bad news, but if you are with a loved one...give'em a hug.
Peace, CeeK's. You'll really be missed. You were one helluva talented kid.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
It's cold in the world...
But warm in my heart. I'm typing as I sit upstairs where it is warmest. (Old house, you know. It gets drafty downstairs and the heat travels up. I fully acknowledge if I was free of debt, and free of house, I'd be snowbirding in AZ right now. Giving tours of Mesa Verde to the seniors)
I'm about to embark on a project/workout day before Super Bowl grocery shopping and wanted to post quickly regarding a not-so-frassy week. Well, work was busy and boring. No show means more "Me" time. I have an audition next Wednesday, wOOt. Dorajar had her first on-camera in which she now embarks on a brave new adventure of trying to obtain the coveted commercial/live-industrial gigs. And for the most part...life is pretty good. (This spending freeze I'm on is a little tiresome. At least it prevents me from holding my breath the last week of the month. Only 2-3 more years to go before I'm debt free! Then? Sell my house, and actualize my snow-bird fantasy of a Southwestern lifestyle)
I'm off to wail on my pecs, then do my back. And you know what? -22 degree windchills aside? I may go for a jog. I did it last year. And so help me, I'm gonna get some mileage out of that cold-weather jogging gear I invested in.
Pip-Pip.
ps: I, saw...the most amazing movie. If you can-and I encourage this behavior-go see "Pan's Labryinth". One of the most moving, beautifully shot movies I have ever seen. Heartbreaking. Go. NOW!
I'm about to embark on a project/workout day before Super Bowl grocery shopping and wanted to post quickly regarding a not-so-frassy week. Well, work was busy and boring. No show means more "Me" time. I have an audition next Wednesday, wOOt. Dorajar had her first on-camera in which she now embarks on a brave new adventure of trying to obtain the coveted commercial/live-industrial gigs. And for the most part...life is pretty good. (This spending freeze I'm on is a little tiresome. At least it prevents me from holding my breath the last week of the month. Only 2-3 more years to go before I'm debt free! Then? Sell my house, and actualize my snow-bird fantasy of a Southwestern lifestyle)
I'm off to wail on my pecs, then do my back. And you know what? -22 degree windchills aside? I may go for a jog. I did it last year. And so help me, I'm gonna get some mileage out of that cold-weather jogging gear I invested in.
Pip-Pip.
ps: I, saw...the most amazing movie. If you can-and I encourage this behavior-go see "Pan's Labryinth". One of the most moving, beautifully shot movies I have ever seen. Heartbreaking. Go. NOW!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)