Oh, forgot to tell you all this one. It is a dooze-
Dad's been wanting me to paint the garage door trim and a couple other area's of facia outside of his townhouse due to the association getting up in arms over some chipping. He assured me that it was only going to be 20 minutes worth of work (A very "dad" thing to say. Dad-time tends to stretch out a bit longer than his initial estimations, so I made the appropriate calculation's in my brain. 20 minutes ='s 4 hours. You need to account for the griping.) He also insisted that he needed my 26 foot extension ladder, which I didn't understand why since a platform or step ladder would have been just fine for the garage if my memory served correctly. I can't remember the architecture of their TH specifically, and the way he was describing it was impossible for me to understand where exactly we were going to be painting. I just figured it was close to terra firma.
Oh no.
He wanted me up on the roof to reach the facia and HE would do the garage door trim. He was sure that I could get up on the roof, scramble up to the top story and lean over the side to paint it. (On the peak, so there really isn't a place to "lay" down. The peak looks like this and is about as steep- " /\ "and I would be at the point. Dig?)
I balked and said no.
He then extended the ladder the full length and precariously set it on the top most gable over the entryway, which is about 26 ft up so now he's playing to my fear of falling. To make things better and to make sure that the tips are not too low-he sets it next to a paper wasp nest. (Fear of wasps is met as well. And you know, it's Fall, so they're aggressive due to temperature changes. I watch two furiously flying at each other and sting at the same time. Exxxxcellent) I ask for the wasp spray-("NO! You'll stain the siding!!!") I ask for the paint bucket to carry up with me. ("NO! You'll spill it on the way up!!! I'll bring it to you") So I tentatively crawl up the ladder, which is shaking and bowing in as extension ladders are wont to do when they are at full extension. Dad's below me shouting encouragement, cajoling, and lastly outright insults. ("What the hell, Kiddo?!?! You used to climb all the time when you were a kid!?!?")
When he follows me up the ladder (And my old man is big. The ladder is rated for 300 lbs. And every rung he takes causes the ladder to shake violently... while I'm 26 feet in the air.) with the paint, then down, then back up the brush. All while wasps are periodically lighting on my face. I take a deep breath decide not to focus on where I was and let my mind go. I see the giant decorative window and figure if the ladder (which is only barely leaning against the trim) I'm going through that sucker. Deep breath number two and I start painting.
I succeed in painting myself into the gable before returning to terra firma. I refrained from kissing the asphalt) Next, he wants me up on the garage roof to paint the small chipped fascia at the peak. He's trying to be all MacGuyver about it ("I could set up one ladder, then set up the other one on top of it like an upside down "L" and I'll sit on it for counter balance"- Me: "F#ck no")
Then he just sends me up there, assuring me that my grip would be fine. Except it wasn't. I was clinging on to the roofing with my knee's locked and I could barely shimmy up. I couldn't get three points contacting the roof while holding the paint and my shoes were doing nothing to propel me forward. I felt my body slide back and I locked my legs tighter, feeling the skin on my inner knee, palms, and elbows abrasing. Tummy too.
I tried one last valiant attempt at going forward when my shoe kicked into air and had no traction, aaaaand I slid down towards the side of the roof but finally stopped myself on the gutter with my foot and shouted "F#ck this" and got back down. The first thing my Dad said was to watch my language, then asked if I damaged the gutter, and finally he hoped that I didn't spill any paint on the shingles. My stomach was in knots, I could feel blood seeping through my sweatpants, and I wanted to kick him in the shins. And then he said- "Okay. We're done for today"
Anyway, it kind of got me over my fear of falling. And wasps. We were cooling down in the back yard and yellowjackets were lighting on me and my glass of wine and I was like "meh".
Fear is the mindkiller.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
The I.V's, take 4
2005
2006
2007
2008
This year I did it right. I went with the good Torcher folks so that I actually had a theatre company to sit with. (Rather than we dolefully sit in back making the occasional snarky comment and nipping from our flasks) We hit Solera before hand, then skidaddled over to the theatro for the actual shindig. And it was okay. Thoughts? (Opinions, please)
Buddy...you were so right to wear the hipster pop culture-y t-shirt and tux this year versus full out formal wear/dress suit. Sure, you're about 10 years out of date with the look and you own 6 or 7 tux coats...but f#ck that. You at least could maintain a modicum of cool when it was a veritable sauna (again) inside.
Hosts...quit talking about yourself. And your show. You're from LA and NY respectively. The TC has to have some representation.
Again, we enjoyed 25% of the acts. The remaining 75% caused hand holding, squinting, flask groping, eye rolls, sidelong glances, runny nose, fever, and erectile dysfunction. Per normal, BNW puts out the most crowd pleasing act. Thank you. And thank you Dudley Riggs.
The kids...at least they relegated the kids act to one this year. But still...it was the finale' and it was from a show that...aw f#ck it...I left so I could beat the rabble to the after party. Moda...she...she didn't make it...I couldn't...I couldn't save her.
The faux paparazzi? Ugh. I get that they're trying to create this glamorous atmosphere but really? We're stage actors. We usually make a pittance and not 7 figure contracts plus residuals and a percentage of the gross. And it reminded me of this gig. http://happychristmasbaby.blogspot.com/2008/03/huh.html
And seriously, dude? Take the lens cap off your prop camera.
The models...the f#cking modelling show. Can we...ugh. Can we not do that next year? 4 years running it has been the LEAST favorite part of the after party. It leaves everyone with a bad taste in their mouths and pumps the breaks on the evening.
Otherwise...I love dressing up for this thing. I love hanging out with the TC Theatre community. Hanging with folks who have the mutual sense of purpose. Of desire to create. (Poncey little git, aren'tcha P?) Of the hugs, kisses, and smartness which is (We) who brought our flasks in lieu of buying pricey cocktails ($5.50 for tonic and a diet coke? Sorry, nope. Think if there was actually BOOZE in them?)
And the afterparty at Moda's? Kicked ass. And Gremlin? F#ck yes. I screamed. We all did.
2006
2007
2008
This year I did it right. I went with the good Torcher folks so that I actually had a theatre company to sit with. (Rather than we dolefully sit in back making the occasional snarky comment and nipping from our flasks) We hit Solera before hand, then skidaddled over to the theatro for the actual shindig. And it was okay. Thoughts? (Opinions, please)
Buddy...you were so right to wear the hipster pop culture-y t-shirt and tux this year versus full out formal wear/dress suit. Sure, you're about 10 years out of date with the look and you own 6 or 7 tux coats...but f#ck that. You at least could maintain a modicum of cool when it was a veritable sauna (again) inside.
Hosts...quit talking about yourself. And your show. You're from LA and NY respectively. The TC has to have some representation.
Again, we enjoyed 25% of the acts. The remaining 75% caused hand holding, squinting, flask groping, eye rolls, sidelong glances, runny nose, fever, and erectile dysfunction. Per normal, BNW puts out the most crowd pleasing act. Thank you. And thank you Dudley Riggs.
The kids...at least they relegated the kids act to one this year. But still...it was the finale' and it was from a show that...aw f#ck it...I left so I could beat the rabble to the after party. Moda...she...she didn't make it...I couldn't...I couldn't save her.
The faux paparazzi? Ugh. I get that they're trying to create this glamorous atmosphere but really? We're stage actors. We usually make a pittance and not 7 figure contracts plus residuals and a percentage of the gross. And it reminded me of this gig. http://happychristmasbaby.blogspot.com/2008/03/huh.html
And seriously, dude? Take the lens cap off your prop camera.
The models...the f#cking modelling show. Can we...ugh. Can we not do that next year? 4 years running it has been the LEAST favorite part of the after party. It leaves everyone with a bad taste in their mouths and pumps the breaks on the evening.
Otherwise...I love dressing up for this thing. I love hanging out with the TC Theatre community. Hanging with folks who have the mutual sense of purpose. Of desire to create. (Poncey little git, aren'tcha P?) Of the hugs, kisses, and smartness which is (We) who brought our flasks in lieu of buying pricey cocktails ($5.50 for tonic and a diet coke? Sorry, nope. Think if there was actually BOOZE in them?)
And the afterparty at Moda's? Kicked ass. And Gremlin? F#ck yes. I screamed. We all did.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Snicker...
Time to dust off the old HS letter jacket and tuxedo t-shirt...I'm done paid up for my 15 year reunion.
Pip!!!
Pip!!!
Fairy Godmothe...what?
2 events (3 if my first foray into making veggie hardshell taco's counts as "An Event")
1- We checked off Ren Fest on our to-do list of summer activities (Thanks to Turtle and Smudge for the comps) It made for a lovely day where we basically traipsed around drinking, eating, and futzing through the shops for the afternoon. By EOD, the shared food tally between the two of us was: Fish and Chips, Wild Rice Soup in a Bread Bowl, Caramel/Apple Ice Cream, Gyro, and several wines/beers/1 mead (Meh). Moda walked away with some awfully pretty pottery for their new kitchen. We ended up ki-boshing trying to hike the trail adjacent to the fest in lieu of a nap (We were tired Tina's) and later in the day we were able to put down the aforementioned taco's and a little BSG before bed.
2-The baptism...That's right, the royal niece had her day in church on Sunday. We lingered, took pictures, and as I sat with the co-Godfather (My bro-in-law) the Priest was giving the candle and smock to us and casually stated that usually the Godfather gets the candle and GodMOTHER gets the smock so we could fight over who gets what.
Oh.
Then it was off for family time and cooing over Lil'Z and Claire the Bear before skidaddling home.
Thoughts on the ceremony.
- The priest looked like a mix between Lou Dobbs and Lee Iacocca.
-He talked like Ben Stein's character in "Ferris Bueller"
-We should have more in the say of how we end a prayer or liturgy. Like instead of "Amen" say "F#ck YEAH!!!"
-I will never sit by my dad again. I was frassin' w/Co-GF and we were joking around yadda yadda when my dad elbows me and whispers "YOU NEED TO RAISE YOUR HAND TOO!!!" so I start to raise my hand while I see the priest is doing it too when I glance around and see that NO ONE ELSE IS DOING IT...I quickly lower my hand and throw dad the stink eye as he's laaaaaughing.
I'm gonna be sent to hell...
1- We checked off Ren Fest on our to-do list of summer activities (Thanks to Turtle and Smudge for the comps) It made for a lovely day where we basically traipsed around drinking, eating, and futzing through the shops for the afternoon. By EOD, the shared food tally between the two of us was: Fish and Chips, Wild Rice Soup in a Bread Bowl, Caramel/Apple Ice Cream, Gyro, and several wines/beers/1 mead (Meh). Moda walked away with some awfully pretty pottery for their new kitchen. We ended up ki-boshing trying to hike the trail adjacent to the fest in lieu of a nap (We were tired Tina's) and later in the day we were able to put down the aforementioned taco's and a little BSG before bed.
2-The baptism...That's right, the royal niece had her day in church on Sunday. We lingered, took pictures, and as I sat with the co-Godfather (My bro-in-law) the Priest was giving the candle and smock to us and casually stated that usually the Godfather gets the candle and GodMOTHER gets the smock so we could fight over who gets what.
Oh.
Then it was off for family time and cooing over Lil'Z and Claire the Bear before skidaddling home.
Thoughts on the ceremony.
- The priest looked like a mix between Lou Dobbs and Lee Iacocca.
-He talked like Ben Stein's character in "Ferris Bueller"
-We should have more in the say of how we end a prayer or liturgy. Like instead of "Amen" say "F#ck YEAH!!!"
-I will never sit by my dad again. I was frassin' w/Co-GF and we were joking around yadda yadda when my dad elbows me and whispers "YOU NEED TO RAISE YOUR HAND TOO!!!" so I start to raise my hand while I see the priest is doing it too when I glance around and see that NO ONE ELSE IS DOING IT...I quickly lower my hand and throw dad the stink eye as he's laaaaaughing.
I'm gonna be sent to hell...
Food...The thing that brings the inner d-wad out...
So we picked some mondo sized eggplants from Vietnam last night (I've dubbed them "Fat Man and Little Boy" due to their size and shape. They're HUGE) and as we were looking at out bounty it occurred to me that I haven't the foggiest idea of what the frack to do with them.
I've enjoyed Buca's eggplant parmigiana in the past (I have 3 dishes there that I insist the group orders to share and that's one of them...the other two being the lemon chicken with capers and garlic bread) and I've had it made for me from scratch which sort of put me off of it. (Dinner party. Everything was from scratch, including the sauce which I abhorred)
So it was off to Epicurious to see what they had to say on the matter. The recipe seemed pretty simple ( I only had to look up the term "dredging" as it relates to cooking...which is to say the same as it means any where else would I had trusted the context of the recipe...durrrrrrr) and curiousity led me to the review pages...where I discovered that recipe submitters and suggester's are mildly snooty a$$holes. (My apologies to the Garden of Olive. You aren't a bad place, per se. You're just kind of chain-y. And cheesey. But I kind of think that this was mean spirited for mean's sake)
A cook from MA says:
"This is a simple and great recipe; those who didn't think it compared with the Olive Garden perhaps could try this."
A cook from NY replies:
"If Olive Garden is your point of favorable comparison, you might want to get out of the Italian food business altogether."
Harsh...
I've enjoyed Buca's eggplant parmigiana in the past (I have 3 dishes there that I insist the group orders to share and that's one of them...the other two being the lemon chicken with capers and garlic bread) and I've had it made for me from scratch which sort of put me off of it. (Dinner party. Everything was from scratch, including the sauce which I abhorred)
So it was off to Epicurious to see what they had to say on the matter. The recipe seemed pretty simple ( I only had to look up the term "dredging" as it relates to cooking...which is to say the same as it means any where else would I had trusted the context of the recipe...durrrrrrr) and curiousity led me to the review pages...where I discovered that recipe submitters and suggester's are mildly snooty a$$holes. (My apologies to the Garden of Olive. You aren't a bad place, per se. You're just kind of chain-y. And cheesey. But I kind of think that this was mean spirited for mean's sake)
A cook from MA says:
"This is a simple and great recipe; those who didn't think it compared with the Olive Garden perhaps could try this."
A cook from NY replies:
"If Olive Garden is your point of favorable comparison, you might want to get out of the Italian food business altogether."
Harsh...
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Hmmm...
Just watched the RNC hullabaloo last night. I tell ya, nothing makes my least favorite chore (folding laundry) go by faster than listen to a bunch of BS on how we've made significant progress in Iraq...
ps: So they kept showing W's old man and his mom. Is it just me, or hasn't she been like...87 years old...for the last 20 years?
ps: So they kept showing W's old man and his mom. Is it just me, or hasn't she been like...87 years old...for the last 20 years?
Great Weekend everyone!
It was a globorious laborious day weekend...one where I didn't go kite boarding and nearly break my knee in the process... coughcoughMDcoughcough (Holy s#it, Doc. Are you for real? That's my ultimate nightmare, yo.)
Friday- I Fair'ed it. And it was glorious. AL, the gay burrito, and m'self headed out mid-morning for the festivities. We did the things you do, including my visit to the Eco Building to see that stupid little skit I shot last year. (Royalties? Hello? I cry bulls#it.) It grew hot during the day, so much so that it almost became heavy and oppressive. We were done by 2:45 or so and I headed back for the day where basically I came off of a gnarly case of sunstroke before proceeding to my "playing house" at Moda's new joint. It was kinda sad that we didn't do the grandstand vendors or any booths (Curmudgeonly McDickhead was adamant about avoiding the shops) so goes an era...
Total food eaten: Deep-Fried Turkey Sammich, nabbed a few deep-fried pickle chips, 1.5 foot Pronto Pup, 4 Sweet Martha's cookies, a bite of steak sandwich (avoid), 3 pieces of cheese curd, 1.5 small beers (I couldn't finish'em. Boo for alcohol abuse) and a shared plate of the Australian Batter-fried potatoes. (Overrated and messy. This is what put me over the edge of sanity)
Caturday was more jogging and lounging (bliss) followed by seeing "Baby J" again and laughing my a$$ off again followed by post-show partying. By the EOD, we were tiiiiiiired. At least we didn't go to BJ's..
Sunday was Hike Day. We ate a big brefkist and then scooted out to Elm Creek Park Reserve where we got lost and had to ask a stoner park employee how to find the Monarch Trail (No lie, honest quote: "Um...I don't really look at maps") After that it was naps and a festive dinner before retiring to the new Casa Del MoBri and chilling on the porch. We got antsy, and decided to check out some of the neighborhood bars, which consisted of walking in. Turning our heads left and right. And leaving. Yeah.
Annnnd, Monday was hot. Muggy Hot. So we spent the afternoon relaxing at Redwrights in the BBP with buddies. (The Bean even came out to play) Amazing food was had (I must have eaten a gogol of crab stuffed mushrooms and half a wheel of cheese and carmelized onions)...needless to say it was great, I spent the night awake pretty much all night long sweating away my indiscretions...and was unhappy at the prospect of returning to the office.
Friday- I Fair'ed it. And it was glorious. AL, the gay burrito, and m'self headed out mid-morning for the festivities. We did the things you do, including my visit to the Eco Building to see that stupid little skit I shot last year. (Royalties? Hello? I cry bulls#it.) It grew hot during the day, so much so that it almost became heavy and oppressive. We were done by 2:45 or so and I headed back for the day where basically I came off of a gnarly case of sunstroke before proceeding to my "playing house" at Moda's new joint. It was kinda sad that we didn't do the grandstand vendors or any booths (Curmudgeonly McDickhead was adamant about avoiding the shops) so goes an era...
Total food eaten: Deep-Fried Turkey Sammich, nabbed a few deep-fried pickle chips, 1.5 foot Pronto Pup, 4 Sweet Martha's cookies, a bite of steak sandwich (avoid), 3 pieces of cheese curd, 1.5 small beers (I couldn't finish'em. Boo for alcohol abuse) and a shared plate of the Australian Batter-fried potatoes. (Overrated and messy. This is what put me over the edge of sanity)
Caturday was more jogging and lounging (bliss) followed by seeing "Baby J" again and laughing my a$$ off again followed by post-show partying. By the EOD, we were tiiiiiiired. At least we didn't go to BJ's..
Sunday was Hike Day. We ate a big brefkist and then scooted out to Elm Creek Park Reserve where we got lost and had to ask a stoner park employee how to find the Monarch Trail (No lie, honest quote: "Um...I don't really look at maps") After that it was naps and a festive dinner before retiring to the new Casa Del MoBri and chilling on the porch. We got antsy, and decided to check out some of the neighborhood bars, which consisted of walking in. Turning our heads left and right. And leaving. Yeah.
Annnnd, Monday was hot. Muggy Hot. So we spent the afternoon relaxing at Redwrights in the BBP with buddies. (The Bean even came out to play) Amazing food was had (I must have eaten a gogol of crab stuffed mushrooms and half a wheel of cheese and carmelized onions)...needless to say it was great, I spent the night awake pretty much all night long sweating away my indiscretions...and was unhappy at the prospect of returning to the office.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)