How to party at my house on NYE

(Special love and thanks to Mel over at Thornehouse.blogspot.com for this. Comic gold, AND make sure you make it to #8)


How To Come to a Party at My House

1. Wear whatever you like. Hats, tuxedos, and false beards are all encouraged, separately or together.

2. You really don't have to bring anything. I know it is polite to ask, and I appreciate that politeness, but when I throw a party I am kind of a crazy control freak with the planning so I probably have it all covered. If your mother raised you in such a way that you absolutely cannot arrive empty-handed, wine (hint: I like Pinot Grigio), tulips (hint: I like purple ones), or huge baggies of drugs are always welcome.

3. Say something nice about the food, because I am not always very confident of my domestic abilities.

4. Drink. Mingle. Don't wait to be introduced. Be funny. Here is a list of conversational topics to get you started: your favorite cheeses, why John Madden and Pat Summerall should be worked over with a tire iron, scary things (nuns, clowns, midgets), stuff that sucks, weird sexual things you've done, drug stories (bonus points if they end up with you pantsless in a police station), caber tossing, your favorite Popes in history (I've always enjoyed Pope Clement VI), famous people who you wouldn't mind having as your own personal fuckpuppet (again, Pope Clement VI for me, or maybe Ricky Martin), dinosaurs RRRAAARRR!, whether you believe that the declension in the Western post-Romantic mind from Modernism to Postmodernism can be understood as a shift from epistemological skepticism to ontological skepticism, the fact that a pig has a spiral penis, and the Incredible Hulk's bad haircut (seriously, did his mom cut his hair with a bowl?).

5. Conversational topics to avoid: work (funny stories are fine, but no one wants to hear the details of your spreadsheet wizardry), your gym routine, abortion/gun control/the death penalty/terrorism, what you did or didn't eat today, how everyone lusts after you, the amount of fabulously expensive electronic equipment you own, and platform snobbery (if I even overhear a tiny fragment of the Windows vs Mac vs Linux debate I'll slip a roofie in your drink, I swear). Also, anecdotes about how cute your pets or children are should be limited to five minutes or less.

6. Never, ever, insist that everyone stop drinking, talking, and generally having a good time in order to "play a game." Playing games is fine, if it is that sort of party. Or there can be a subgroup of game players within a larger party. But you are not the Camp Counselor of the party, to be demanding that the partygoers do this or that.

7. Be a Good Drinker: no vomiting, no wanton destruction, no unwanted groping of fellow guests. Dirty jokes, comic antics, flirtation, and slightly slurred stream-of-consciousness blather are encouraged, however. If things do get out of hand, you are welcome to spend the night. I have plenty of couch space.

8. Remember, your hostess sets the tone. So: If I am wobbling about like Dorothy Parker on a bad night, consuming superhuman quantities of gin, kissing just about everyone on the mouth, waving cigarettes around and coming dangerously close to setting you on fire, and cracking wise about all and sundry, that gives you a free license to completely let your hair down. And if at any point I drop into a kung-fu stance that is a very clear signal that all bets are off. (For some reason I tend to make with the martial arts poses when I get very drunk.)

End of year "Best of" list!

Man. I hate to start this post on a bit of a downer, but 2009 has certainly sucked a great deal. Between losing jobs, dad, and feeling like crapola physically I'm happy to say that putting this decade to bed is a blessing and serving to help me get my butt in gear for a fortuitous year of growth in 2010.

I'm not a fan of "top ten" lists (especially when they start coming out in October/November. Hello? Year ain't done yet, turkeys) but there were some stand out moments/activities in '09 that'd I'd like to give the Christmas baby stamp of approval. Without further ado:

BEST NEW MUSIC FIND(s)-

(I dig on a lot of stuff I hear on the current, but these tunes are catchy and get stuck on ear worm more than I care to count)

Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes "Home"
Gnarls Barkley "Going on"

(Runner up- Metric)

BEST THEATRICAL PRODUCTIONS-
"Caroline, or Change"
"The Mary Tyler Moore Show"
"Beauty and the Beast"

(Runner up- "Hedda Gabler". Think I'm biased? Shup. It was good)

BEST FILM-
"Precious" Hands down, arguably the most affecting movie I saw in 2009.
"Star Trek" (Smart. Smart as hell re-imagining)

(Runner up- "Inglorious Basterds". Affecting, albeit in a completely different way. Oof)

BEST TV SHOWS-
(I'm hamstringing myself here since I don't watch much by way of network TV. I deplore reality shows, and the acronyms that have taken place of titles. "HIMYM"? "SYTYCD"? Dumb. These shows have been out for a minute, and make for great Netflixing nights off)

"Big Love"
"Carnivale"

BEST BOOK-
(While I'm not the book-o-phile Moda is I made a dent in a few choice reads this year. Again, they're a little old but I stand by my assertion that they make damn fine reads)

"The Time Travelers Wife"
"The Year of Living Biblically"
"The Graveyard Book"

BEST NEW RESTAURANT-
(We eat out, doi. And this finding was kind of tough to rate since many of the places we've tried tend to be established restaurans, or "bullet points" that we like to patronize. And since we mostly went to the tried and true joints, I'm feeling forced to post a doofy critique on the newest food venture)

Il Gatto. It ain't Figlio, I won't lie. Figlio is almost less a restaurant and more an institution, and when they announced the closure my reaction was more emotional than anything. And honestly I think that's the mark of a good restaurant. I can recall almost every single one of my visits going back 15-odd years. What has taken its place is a fairly respectable restaurant with a menu that has enough choices to cater to folks like myself who miss the Figlio of old and enough new choices to make it the newest hotspot for Uptown patrons. And while we weren't floored by the experience (too loud, too cramped, and a seafood dish for me that, unfortunately...was a little too brine-y) it was good enough to make me recommend it to friends.

(Runner up- Zeno. This was a one-time deal. We heard that they were having a "one-weekend" special to help drum up interest in their new expanded sushi menu and we capitalized on it. It. Was. Glorious. I can't imagine what the prices will be like since it ended, but for how inexpensive and unbelievably delicious our sushi was I can only give it a thumbs up)

Happy Birthmas!

Hiya friends. Blog central is celebrating our five year anniversary/Christmas/Birthday and I wanted to thank my (few) loyal readers this season. I hope that 2010 gives you what you want and proves satisfying in so many ways, we forget to count.

I'm 34 for a few more hours...

And scene.

BIRTHDAY'ddd!

Or CHRISTMAS'ddd!!!

Either way, it's coming. And okay, okay...so I've been a silent blog-monkey and it's been sort of a melancholier X-mas than normal, my mom (bless her heart) sent me her X-mas list (a first. Figuring out what she wants has never been easier) and asked I do the same in return. As always, I broke down my list into things that are practical and that I really, really need. (ex: new socks, a new black dress belt in my size, new boxer briefs in my husky-boy size, new running shoes, and a CO2 detector for upstairs.) Versus my ultimate "wish" (See. "Wish". Not "Need to have immediately." Jeebus) list (ex: 42 flatscreen HDTV, Blu-Ray DVD player, a new 2-car Garage and driveway, etc.)

Now, this list could get piled higher than Kilimanjaro rising like the sun above the Serengeti...Toto...No? So for y'all...here's my electronic knick-knack-nerd wish list 2009. Bearing in mind you only have 2 shopping days left. And we wants them (Refutations and justifications can be found and made in the comments below):

DVD's: (Based on repeat watchability...or if they were lent away and never returned. Thievin' bastards)

Highlander (film. 1986)
Star Trek (Extended edition. 2009)
The Wrath of Khan (1982)
The Count of Monte Cristo (2002)
A History of Violence (2005)
Rob Roy (1995)
Eastern Promises (2007)
Braveheart (1995)
Legend of Drunken Master (or. 1994 under "Drunken Master II")
Iron Monkey (2000)
Pans Labryinth (2006)
Mulholland Dr. (2001)
The Untouchables (1988)
The Unforgiven (1993)
Ratatouille (2008)
Wall-E (2008)
Brick (2005)
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (2009)

CD's (which include CD's that were stolen)

They Might Be Giants "Flood"
Bjork "Telegram"/"Homogenic"
Michael Jackson's Greatest Hits
Garth Brooks Greatest Hits
The Offspring "Ixnay on the Hombre"
Simon and Garfunkel's Concert in Central Park
De La Soul "Three Feet High and Rising"
Miss Saigon Original Cast Recording
Queens Greatest Hits vol. I and II

Toys/Books etc

Conor MacLeod replica Katana http://www.unitedcutlery.com/Images/medres/UC2593.JPG

Luke Skywalker Master Replicas FX Sword (Roman remembers the X-mas we played with these in Borders Books) http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51n5IcEboPL._SL500_AA280_.jpg

Spider-Man (quality) costume http://cgi.ebay.com/Spiderman-Adult-Costume-Quality-Spandex-5-6-to-6-1_W0QQitemZ160389014886QQcmdZViewItemQQptZLH_DefaultDomain_0?hash=item2557ee2566

The following Sandman Graphic Novels by Neil Gaiman (I have the 1st three) “Dream Country”, “Seasons of the Mist”, “A Game of You”, “Fables and Reflections”, “Brief Lives”, “Worlds End”, “The Kindly Ones”, and “The Wake”.

Neil Gaiman "The Graveyard Book", "Good Omens" (w/Terry Pratchett), and "Neverwhere".

Kurt Busiek and Alex Ross "Marvels" http://www.amazon.com/Marvels-Kurt-Busiek/dp/0785100490

And, without any place to put the stupid thing: A Hogwarts DVD holder-http://www.snitchseeker.com/gallery/albums/userpics/13923/collectors017.jpg


See. Easy to please, I am! Happy Holidays, folks! Hoping to get back on the Blog-Wagon soon.

Test

Whoops! Two months got away. It isn't that I've been overtly busy, it's just been sort of a whirl wind of emotions and frass that have been filling my headspace. (And the fact that it's hard to blaug here at work) So something quick, light, frothy, and topical.


I hate people who swear without regard to who is around them. There, I said it. Now I'm a die hard with a vengeance curser. I admit it. Sweary McSwearerson. But lately, and maybe b/c I haven't felt too Christmasy, and have only desired to find peace on earth and good will towards one and other...these little outbursts p#ss me off:

(At the pumps outside of the "Stop and Save" getting gas)
"F#ck. What the...This F#ckin' thing. (to me) Every f#ckin time....NEVER prints a receipt and you gotta go in and ask the cashier for your f#ckin' receipt. F#CK!"

Me: "Oh..."


(Outside of the gym, next to the Chinese restaurant where two dudes were walking in)
"And Kelly was like...'No f#ckin way I'm doing that s#it. You get your a## in here and pin those binders.' and I was like 'Might as well. You f#ckin' break'em every time. Chr!st."

Did I mention the day care at the gym was letting out simultaneously?

(My favorite: The break room at work. Where people mill about freely. This one is priceless)

"What the f#ck do you MEAN? I can't AFFORD that. No. no. no. NO. I said "F#####ck. No. No f#ckin way. You tell Sheila that I don't give a f#ck if she can't help, she's..."

Okay. You get the gist.

So. My request, this holiday season: Watch your f#ckin mouth when you're out in public.

More topical frass...

Everyone talks of snow. So I shall not.

H-okay...

Somedays I miss being unemployed. It seems like I was given an assignment through my temp gig and cast in a show simultaneously so life has been sort of whirlwindy. I miss being able to lumber out of bed and go to the gym daily. I really felt like I was making strides physically, you know? I had lost 10 lbs and was starting to get definition and vascularity back. Then...work and show. And non-stop rain. Hello? I go from pulling 4 milers to staring wistfully outdoors and trudging up my cold-weather gear? Frack that. (Note to self- New running shoes must be in your future. Your feet hurt)

Showtime! Go here to learn more: http://www.theatrearlo.com/ It's been over 2 years since I've done a show with lines (for new readers, a lot of what I've done has been kung-fu-king s#ith up while lines are done off stage) So I get a random FB message from a buddy who ran MocW and I worked with and they're doing a pared down version of "The Importance of Being Earnest" as a sort of "bro's before ho's" remix that pokes fun at the big G's production...with a budget under $50 (The priciest seat there). And gay. Really, very, extremely gay. So I ask, who wouldn't say "sure". It's been crazy, with having a scant 2 weeks rehearsal. And for an hour long production...I have a lot of lines. A lot. Anyway, if you're free for any of our three Sunday night performances (October 11th, 18th, and 25th) and if it's your thing- go*. It's pretty funny.

Moda is in another Show-da. For real, we talked about theatre widowship before s#it got real as it was but hoo. She performed in MTM for the month of September. (Effing killer, btw) and is now in her 12 of 12 techs for "Othello". Oof. We would like to go on vacation at some point after her next show piggybacks on "O" and it'd best be overseas. Donations welcome.

I'm getting flabby. That probably isn't true, but when you go from exercising daily to not it feels like it puts on the metabological brakes.

The last of our harvest has been reaped. Snow notwithstanding, the tubers have come out and the tomatoes don't look too happy. I had been pretty good while unemployed at taking care of her, but there seems to have been some form of precipitation or rather for the last two weeks. Curses. We've plotted out next years rotation and are really needing to get the garlic bulbs in the ground before it hardens. And (gasp!) we plan on expanding. Ohhhh yes. http://hungryhippopotami.wordpress.com/

I...uh...so I was really sick my first day of work. And I've had nerves and a bad tummy for what seems like months. This all came to a realization that I'm needing to cut out booze. Not entirely, but I've reduced consumption drastically. Sad thing? I can tell. I've lost some bloat, my tummy is better, and the times I have imbibed? Makes me a little nauseous. Great. And a little insomniatic without a depressent in my system in the evening. But...it has got my brain racing. Sooooooo...I've been writing. Funny crap. In fact, I posted a fake "550's" (performing art classified in the Strib) on the old CB last week. And I wouldn't be talking about it right now, but I was pretty pleased with how it turned out. Moreover, I had about 40 other fake auditions et.al. that I wanted to post. Sooooo, I think I might do that weekly every Sunday. Until the mods make me stop or people get too annoyed. (My favorite part is when people think it's a real ad. Favorite)

Um. Yeah. Off to bundle and trundle to rehearsal. We open tomorrow night. Eep. I'm hungry.

Temporarily speaking...

Temp. Tempe. Tempeh. Tamp. Tarp. Taupe.

I'm now officially at the two week mark of my gig at the Big Gay Wagon Company (Heretofore known as "BGWC") I'm falling into the temp regiment which has some pros and cons which I'd like to share with you today.

Pro-
Distance. It's ridiculously close, being in S. Mpls, and literally takes me almost 10 minutes to get there.

Enclosed parking.

"Casual" October...meaning jeans all month long and possibly beyond.

A mildly relaxed culture. My direct report has the strangest and dryest sense of humor. You'd almost think he wasn't making a joke because he'll say one and walk away to let it linger. ("Please remember to lock your PC when you leave your desk. Otherwise you'll get hurt." Walks away)

His boss? Caught me looking at my script. Turns out he's a community musical theatre guy. And acts it, too. Campy, goofy...curses every so often...b#tches about his diet. Weird. I know, right? When I...I am the low key theatre dude.

Helpful and friendly cube mates. I was one of 3 people in a class of 14 to be elevated to the "quick learner" program...meaning 3 days of training then GO! The seasoned permanent employees next to me seem to sympathize.

The cafeteria...Holy. Okay, so this "campus" has a deli, coffee shop (I'll stick with the free break room swill, thanks) convenience store, bank, gym, and proper cafeteria. And it's big. And cheap. I forgot my soup so I figured It'd be as good of an excuse as any to check it out and they had a "build your own deli sammich" bar. Right? So I made a reasonbly healthy turkey sandwich with produce about as big as a Dagwood thinking that after I weigh it at the check out it'd be $11. $3.50. For a 16 lb sammich. The gym, btw, is only $14 a month for employees. What?

Full web access. In close to 15 years of corporate living, I've never had that.

The con...

Training, per normal for temps, is redonk. The trainer was poor and frequently had class wrested from their grasp by a few of the students. We were tested on material that we barely had time to learn and it was graded against us. Since I was pulled early, most of what I've had to do is On the Job. And without job aids, there'll be a lot of mistakes.

Temps...are kind of recyclable. The 1st, a manager came in and gave the whole dog and pony show of "you're not just a temp" and "you could very well get hired permanently!" and "many of our employees who started 4-5 years ago were temps!" in an attempt to make the fact that we're contracted and possibly expendable a little less frightening. Doesn't work on jaded hacks like me. And moreover, you kind of need to keep your head down while the perm staff are all like buddies and they treat you, well, like a temp.

Gallows humor. I don't know if I think that candor is a great thing in the workplace, but speaking of being a temp? My direct report has dropped a few funnies about how we don't technically work for him. Moreover, I suspect that he's of a narc nature. Why?

My cube is sandwiched between both managers. And they both like to get up and stand behind you to see what apps you have open. Sorry guys. I'm not trolling teh web on company time.

My commute home sucks. There are no easy freeway entrances to 35W North. I either have to go through Uptown or go South 7 blocks to 35th. Lame sauce.

The employees are maniacs. At the end of my shift, it's practically a footrace to get out of the building. And since it's badge scan exit, it's a daily occurrence that someone forgets to scan and gets trapped in the revolving doors. Moreover? That delightful parking garage I told you about? Man...people are f#cked up. Sorry. But I've nearly been ran over 4 x's now. It turns into the Indy 500 with people speeding (i.e. going at least 20-25 mph) toward the exit. And apparently, some people think that "compact parking only" means "my RAV 4 can take up two spots...chumps". Look, at the end of the day I wanna go too but this seems all too much like "Let's see how many temps we can hit before leaving!"

Lastly? I'm not a huge fan of the work. It really...well it isn't really "me". It's nice to know big bro is floating around to help with doofy stuff like password workarounds, but man. Yeah. Mortgages...

Sighs...Oh well.

It's a j-o-b.

I feel justified in the big breakfast I made today (maple smoked turkey sausage, eggs over-easy, and pancakes) because I did a 4.5 miler yesterday, lifted, rehearsed, and went for a 90 minute walk. Pip. I felt even more justified in the Chinese take out dinner I enjoyed tonight while watching "The Goonies" (edited for television) on TBS which stuffed me to the gills while the cat snored on my lap after battening down the hatches around the house.

It's that last part I'd like to touch on.

It's windy. Real windy. And when the wind is this strong it means it's blowing in something or blowing out something. And "something" tells me it's blowing in the chill. And that means outdoor jogs will be a bundlesome affair going forward. I jokingly let out the cat to see how long he'd last outside after caterwauling by the veranda door (less than a minute). I even dropped a few of the storm windows. I look forward to my pine tree in the back falling over on my garage ("Act of God...Act of God!!! New garage!!!") and worry about branches knocking into the neighbors house. I have a large boxelder in the back yard.

Frass.

I chalk it up to new job anxiety. Time to start getting up with the alarm again. And I'm gonna get myself in the frame of mind to warm up to the new job.

An open letter about energy...people's energy

Dear lady who was patronizing the delightful Uptown bistro where Moda and I had lunch this past Friday...


So it was a drizzly pizzly Friday and we had a gift card to burn through and so we headed out with dreams of Bellini's, Bloody Mary's, and pomme frittes. And while it was a quiet Friday at said bistro, there were still a few folk out to enjoy brunch as well. Lovely.

Now, you were only 5 tables away and I really don't know what kind of day you had but it felt like it was a bad one. Why do I know this? Well, for starters (and to be clear, your conversation wasn't being eavesdropped on) you...energy...was palpable. Like, I felt every angry stab of conversation you made with your friend. And I'm not gonna judge but dang...we're nibbling our fries and loud conversational punctuations peppered your speech. And lady, there were folks trying to have a relaxing Friday brunch. Not cool.

This all culminated in the part where I did eavesdrop...not because I wanted to but it was pretty audible- Complaining about the price of your coffee. Your coffee. Your...coffee.

It's a mildly pricey French Uptown Bistro. Not "Le Folgers". My advice? Switch to the coffee in the green can.

Yours respectfully...

Baby P

Work, work, work...

So in exciting news, my temp agency finally hooked me up with a gig starting on Monday. Pip. I've also applied to a gazillion other places over the last 4 weeks, so at least that means I'm waiting for rejection emails. C'mon, fellas! I'm-a waitin'!

In other news, I finally got a gig that'll run for a few performances at the BLB in October. Sweet. For a minute there I was thinking "Gee. This'll be the first year since, well, 1990 that I've gone 12 consecutive months without doing a show. Ho. Lee. Crap."

Yes sir, boy howdy though...gonna miss the little things I tell you. Like bathrobe time, which is-you know-daily. And going downstairs this morning to get a cup of coffee and wondering why the cat hasn't been conversing with me only to see him perched on the nook table staring intensely outside. I go to spy what has him so rapt and it's a frassin' squirrel cleaning itself on the patio table.

In case you're curious, my roommate has been out of town for the last week or so and I'm in charge of George. Oddly enough, the cat has been pretty good about not barfing in the middle of the night.


Also, "The Ivey Awards" were this last Monday. Good times. Moda looked great and I decided on sporting the monochrome look this year. And the chrome look. No Ivey is complete w/o packing your flask. IJS.

I stand corrected

What's worse than discovering cat vom with your bare toes at 4 am?

Cat poop at 7.


I've washed, showered, cleaned and vacuumed and still feel gross as hell.

Note to self...

I was frassed at for wanting to know what I should wear to this years Ivey awards and so I brought up all my tux's for viewing. I'll be doing the all-black outfit this year, but in figuring out stupid things like 3 button, 2 button, etc. I found the following in my one button masterpiece:

1- pair of sunglasses
3-fliers for upcoming shows (circa Fall 2008)
1-Flask my brother gave me as a wedding present


This garnered a chuckle from us when I looked at Moda and said "Does this look like it still fits...what the f#ck is in my pockets?"

Does anyone else think...

That the Cities Ninety-Seven, with a few notable exceptions, that their playlist is perpetually stuck in between the years 1994-1996?

RIP, Dalton...

Well...people with the big "C" can't always have happy endings. And I do think it's kinda sad about the Swayze-ist of Patricks recent passing. I wasn't a huge fan of "DD" to be fair. I mean, I saw it, but outside of musicals I never had the same jones for "dance" movies where the dancing is a part of the overall drama. (Like "Frassloose" back in '84. There were far better films to see that year, IMO...cough cough "Ghostbusters"? Cough cough "Temple of Doom"? Cough cough "Buckaroo Banzai"?) And I think I caught "The Outsiders" maybe once or twice on a Saturday channel 9 edited-to-hell matinee and was like "meh...the book was better".

But I so did dig on "Red Dawn". And a couple of years later when we had free HBO, I probably watched "Road House" 10 times. (I still was years away from taking karate so how was I to know he was only doing "Dance Fu"? Bonus points if you can catch the Benny "The Jet" Urquidez cameo in the car lot Bigfoot scene.) I mean...that movie was dumb, over the top, and (in later years) extremely quotable. "I thought you'd be bigger", "Pain don't hurt", and Jeff Healy's insane thespian delivery of "Word is you f#ck with him...he'll theal yer fate". (Yeah, I wrote his lisp in. Suck it)

And of course the nudity and Sam Elliot. Hello? Crap, Ro and I bogarted the "throat rip-out" when we auditioned for "KFH" a few years ago. Classic.

People were blah-blah over "Ghost" and I liked it well enough. (I took a date to see it at the Brookdale UA. Mostly I remember flicking a band-aid down her blouse and laughing when the evil "ghosts" dragged away bad-guy ghosts. That dumb sound effect. And for the record, I was 15. So apologies for said flicking. She didn't get mad, anyway. Good ol' Angie W.)

And of course x's 2- His SNL appearance. Doi. "Everybodies workin' for the weekennnnd!"

"Point Break" was more doofy adrenalin and I always thought that this movie was dumb to have "Ted" play and F-B-I agent...and wtf was a "Chili Pepper" doing in this movie? (Points again for an early Tom-I make the worst celebrity sex tape on the planet" Sizemore sighting)

Sure, he had some dogs for the following 10 years or so but that little role in "Donnie Darko" was just another awesome casting job in an equally awesome dark little indie film that blew up in a good way. Don't call it a comeback!

For me, though? It'll always be Dalton. The philosophizing cooler. Pure-D awesome.

Rest in peace, 'Miho.

Why I <3 NE Mipples...

Dear everyone-

I obtained an "I Heart NE" button from Surdyk's shortly before the NEMAA Art-A-Whirl last May. To this day, it has been mistaken for the following:

I Heart Nebraska
I Heart New England
I Heart Knee (Pretty creative, IMO)

I get it, a little. One person, one, has figured it out. We're at MOA today shopping for Ivey Award dresses and whilst waiting for try-on's at Nordstrom's Bodacious Rack this kid was staring at me. (Okay, a teenager). It got so that the staring went past MN (Ha. Get it? Another Acronym!) comfort, and after making eye-contact at his chest-staring head (I, for one, do not have a bodacious rack) I said "What's up?".

(In a foreign exchange student accent. He looked pretty-boy nordic, so hearing a German accent surprised me a bit)
"What is 'Knee'?"
(me) "Oh. North East. North East Minneapolis. I'm the uncrowned King of Northeast."
(Blank Stare. His girlfriends titter. There were three girlfriends.)
"Northeast Metropolis?"
"No. That's Superman. We're fairly territorial in our neighborhoods in Minneapolis."
"Oh" (Laughs uncomfortably)

I loiter outside the ladies dressing rooms for as long as possible until they leave then take a seat. Ever notice how, if you're male and loitering outside of a ladies dressing room you still kind of feel pervy? You could be staring at the lights the whole time until said "dressed" lady comes out for an opinion (or whatever) or laying face down on the ground. You're still left with the whole "dude loitering outside the ladies dressing rooms" stigma. It's weird. (Even in the ladies shoe area, which takes up a parking lot sized area in most department stores*, if you're a guy/boyfriend/husband the guys master the blank forward stare. You go into a coma. And no one asks questions. The nurse just comes by to read you stories)

Later, I get treated to restauranty goodness for being a sport the whole (cough-cough) 7 hour day and the server makes a comment that she likes Northeast Minneapolis too (or something) and it came as such a shock that I almost didn't sit for a second. We laughed. A lot.

I need to stop wearing that dumb button. Or I should have given to the exchange student in solidarity.

*If I wanted job security? I should sell women's shoes at Nordstroms. Al Bundy was on crack for hating his job, Humpty. They were on you like white on snow- if you were man...woman...it didn't matter. Those ladies were frickin' pro's. There were literally 3 sales reps for every one person and they did their jobs in style. Holy...I mean the slick pitch: "Well, those 'Glitz' brand might feel loose but the Praaaada will never-ever fit you poorly. It's the design you see?" (She fit it in quick and dirty during her sales pitch like a shiv between the ribs during a prison brawl. I was amazed.


She didn't buy the Prada, btw.)

Can't...keep...it in...

I wouldn't usually wish this on anyone, and sorry if it might offend (I am, as you know, an amateur b-squad observationalist) but sakes aLIVE is urn-checking-outing the dumbest thing you can do? I was apprehensive enough with family due to the sensitive nature of it but outside of a clown handing you a balloon before you go in the "showroom" there could be little more ridiculous outside of...okay, here's a list of potentials so you all are prepared. Keep in mind, you have an image of what an urn is, BUT you can also get cremains:

Made into diamonds
Put into Lava Lamps
Put into a light up night light globe
Put in Biodegradable heart-shaped bags
Placed in the low...low end model. Which is plastic and looks like an office garbage can
Placed in a, gah, it's supposed to be a suspended Jesus but my brother said "It looks like Han Solo suspended in carbonite..." He was right.
Made into a door stop or garden marker

And my favorite?

A teddy bear. A $130 teddy bear.*

We cried a lot, but I think we also laughed a lot too which is what he would have done at the silly nature of it all. And it helped a little. It was needed.


*It was in the kids section, but perched next to the "formal" urns made it a little unnerving yo. Moda and I took turns trying to unscrew the head to see if that's where the cremains were supposed to go.


**I still hate the term cremains. And if it wasn't for "Six Feet Under" I'd never had known it.

Hiya friends. I know I've been piecemeal about blogging in spite of a lot of spare time the last few weeks and I'm sorry to say that I'll probably be doing another sabbatical while I get my head on straight and spend some time with my family. I'm not getting into it in too much detail here on the cyber-web but I'd like to leave you all with a quick non-sequiter:


I spent a very, very good day yesterday with my dad.

You gotta be kidding, right?

Let's talk about tricky sloganizing, shall we? Dunkin Donuts newest: "America Runs on Dunkin'!" with little pictures for those who don't understand the message: Picture of ' Merica. Picture of a runner, ala' the Olympics. Picture of a donut.

Wow. Donuts+Running='s did someone in their advertising department say "HEY! These donut's are getting a BAD RAP! Saying they promote obesity and have little to NO nutritional value? What about JELLY filled donuts, friends?!?! THAT is a fruit if I ever SAW one. No, no, no...the time has come to help the noble pastry RISE from it's painful yoke of unhealthiness while we usher in a NEW DAY OF THE DONUT...! AND THAT MEANS RUNNING!!!"

Why not just run a smear campaign on foods that are a good source of iron and vitamins? Or are a prime source of roughage?

"SPINACH! It will MAKE you play WII FAT!!!"
"F#CK BROCCOLI! Do you WANT to have DOUBLE CHINS?!?!"
"Baked potato? HOW ABOUT COUCH POTATO!"
"KALE WILL SMOTHER YOU IN YOUR SLEEP!"
"America is screwed with tomatoes" (This is where you have the picture of 'Merica. A screw...or a silhouette of someone, you know, getting screwed. And the noble lycopene laced tomato.)

Equating donuts and health. I donut know.




(Flashback) A really happy memory from when I was a kid was when my dad would take me either to Dunkin' or to Jack's Bakery over by NHCC for a donut and milk after my hockey games. He'd get a coffee and usually an apple fritter. I'd get a 1% milk and either a long john (They weight 16lbs at Jack's) or one of those powdered jobbies filled with chocolate cream and the "chocolate frosting nipple looking thing" on top. The smell is what will take you back at DD.

In high school, we would/could order a dozen to demolish amongst 2-3 of us or order a variety of 24-36 donut holes. Oof.

As an A-Dult, I learned to appreciate their coffee. DD does have some pretty strong and tasty coffee.

And as an aging frasser in a world where DD is coming back, and now apparently using a picture of a runner to pimp their D's as opposed to a middle aged man muttering "It's time to make the donuts..." I can't remember the last time I had one.

Great. Just...Great.

So on a happy note, Moda got back in town from KS last night. She told me she caught a slight bug while down there which was a touch flu-like. I was able to visit and we shared some Chinese food before heading back home for the night.

Today, I wake up feeling much the same as she described. It started when getting out of bed proved to be a challenge, and a general sense of ish kept me from doing anything but the most mundane stuff around the house. After I was finally able to drag my carcass downstairs for some water and a little bite to eat it developed into full bore nausea. I had been sitting on the couch for an hour in my running gear with a book waiting for my laundry to finish up, thoughts of hitting the gym slowly escaping my mind. Sure enough when I hit the basement to collect my clothes, I took a deep breath and whoooosh- All the water and the lunch I had came riiiiight back up. Ish.

So as I type this, I am sweating profusely with a swollen belly and a deep concern that being ill and unemployed are not a very good mix.

On a second positive note, I did score a gig from my audition last Friday. So let's hope that whatever this crap is, it won't mean fauceting sweat while filming.

Ugh.

Double, triple ow.

Well ferrets and firecrackers...I know I've promised an unemployment blaug, but I guess outside of the general mundane routine that is hermiting myself/working out/finding new work I figured it just didn't make for very good theater. (It's okay, folks. Temp staff got me a new gig in a week or so. And I found another one on MONSTER that seemed right up my alley...with the caveat being I'd need to obtain my series 6, 26, AND 63. Time to stock up on Gingko Biloba. )

So outside of my personal goal of having read (nearly) all the Harry Potter books in 10 days. (As opposed to my last, lame, unemployment goal of watching film series like "The Godfather" or "Lord of the Rings"...extended cut...) I was given an opportunity by my pal Davey to hit up the Cannon River for some tubin. (Or in my case, "tubbin". Rhymes w/"chubbin") As many of my fellow MN'an's can attest, the weather hasn't been very "July" like. Rather, it's been floating in the low 60's for the last couple of days. We were assured it would get to at least 75 degree's by Caturday, the date of our voyage, and if tubing were out then we'd go on and rent canoes. This...this all sounds pretty straightforward.

Now if anyone remembers the ill-fated trip down the old CR back in 2007, you will remember it was a bit of a castastrophe on my part. Lost my sunglasses, got ridiculously inebriate, attempted to emulate the noble dolphin while wearing my favorite cowboy hat and ruined it, not to mention bunging myself up pretty good on the rocks etc. And, in spite of wearing waterproof SPF 45 sunblock, managed to snare myself a dinger of a burn. Not fun. No way.

"Managing Restraint" was my theme this year. I figured a canoe trip would keep me safely dry and free of any river mishaps. I remembered all my Manitou/Scouting practice (That's right, friends. "J" stroke? "C" stroke? I'm all up in that.) So what if I hadn't canoed in 16/17 years. How hard could it be, right? And when you get tired/bored you either let the other person paddle or let the lazy river take you while you steer. So I bundled up, forwent sunscreen (and left the beerz at home, thanks!), and we all meandered South. Hey, the sun could still come out sometime too! What could POSSibly go awry? Well, when your friendly neighborhood B-Squad Ahab is at the paddle...much:

-My canoe was swamped, twice due to vigorous paddling away from the shore. And I'm fairly certain my canoe buddy hates me. At the very least, they switched up partners with me mid-way through.

-Cell phone, which was double wrapped in sealed ziploc baggies, was ruined...again.

-Cowboy hat now looks like a rumpled version of the "Sorting Hat" due to said capsizing.

-Somehow when the canoes were rented, we were taken to the farthest launching point upriver. About 12 miles. So after a while we were all like "I wonder what time it is?" and another canoer yells "5:30!"...(We started around 12:30-1 and expected to get back, well, sooner)

-That bit about the river carrying you? Nah-uh. It was almost still. See, in my fantasy world I had imagined something so low key it would make sleeping appear industrious. Nope. There was lots, and lots of paddling. And more. And sitting on a hard metal bench. For 6+ hours.

-I lost my favorite red flannel. That, my Diet Mt. Dew, sunglasses, and half a sammich all fell prey to the rivers murky...sometimes more than 2 foot...depths.

-Did I mention when the temperature drops as the day goes on...there is no sun to dry you...and you've already fallen in the river so you're soaked...did I mention it gets kinda cold? Oof.

- At the mid-way point I stepped out of the canoe into what can only be called lightning sand. It nearly bi-sected me at the ballz (I had expected solid ground underfoot and sunk in immediately up to my knee while stepping out of the canoe) and I actually had to do the whole two-handed "pull-my-leg-out" routine to get unstuck.

-It's funny how many scrapes and cuts you can get and not realize it due to cold water. Active. Open. Bleeding. I was like "oh hey..."

- I lost my gum somewhere. So my mouth tasted pretty narsty and I got self-conscious that my breath would knock out cattle.

-All that paddling? The "Oh I was a boy scout and it's just canoeing so I will f#ck some s#it up on this river BLAH!"!?!? That, coupled with sitting prone on that cold metal seat. Coupled with occasionally having to step out of the boat onto unsure footing. Or pulling it off shore with buddies inside. Or trying to get back in to it in waist deep water. Sheeoot. I started my new workout routine 4 weeks ago. Pretty intense, at least since I haven't worked out that hard for a few years.

Nothing. I haven't felt this sore since trying to manually stir cement to finish my side walk. Since carrying over 80 paver blocks, or shovelling two Volvo-sized piles of black dirt and wheelbarrowing it for a weekend. Folks, I type this after waking up at 6:30 am to roll over in bed only to realize that even rolling over in bed is a chore. I dropped my water bottle since I couldn't make a stupid fist to hold it. So I popped some ibuprofen and chillaxed for a bit before realizing the long, comic potential of my day.

And you know what? I had a blast. A real blast. Yee Haw. Let's tube if and when it gets warmer tho'.

KTHXBYE

Annual B'Day greetings to RSVP!

Happy Birthday, big brotherness RSVP! Your ninja self looks great, per normal!


Embarrassing big brother story #604:

As children, (young adults, adults, etc.) he always had an adventuresome streak. Yes, yes. In fact, 62% of the time he'd plunge headlong up mountainsides, down ravines, into forests, up hills...(Water traps were usually the places he'd say "Okay. Scootch down there and see what you can find..." Or, "We're going back in the woods to find a hidden lake. Stay home if you want" And Iiiiiii found it. And a dead cow. Ish)

So once, when we were very young and mama was getting her hair did at the Village North Shopping Center, we were traipsing around the back near Shingle Creek (pronounced "crick") proper where a culvert helped the flow under Zane avenue across from where our former dentist was housed. In a first, I got the "Stay Back" warning from he- meaning he'd go first and have fun while I would stay up looking lost and lonely in my Tuffskin jeans and yellow w/green piping tank top from the 70's with no adult supervision. As a rule, parents would ALWAYS avoid this kid perched precariously by a culvert whilst his only 2.5 year older brother was gallavanting. That's right. Not my kid, not my problem.

I did hear shortly after, a sound that would haunt my dreams and ring in my ears for yearsssss. It sounded like death. Like a wailing banshee, coming at your home bringing foreboding warnings. Like, like, a rattling Dementor- coming for your soul. (Actually, it was more like a screaming kitteh, seeing another strange kitteh. Georgie made the same sound in the breakfast nook last week when he saw a stray neighborhood kitteh getting in our planted herb-garden-sorry- HIS planted herb garden catnip. Bushy tail and all)

Turns out, young man found hisself a MUSkrat. Real ornery one too. Oh, he was okay. Tore outta there a$$ over tea kettle screaming. See, in the 70's? When your folks bought you a belt? They bought those suckers to LAST. Meaning, that piece of leather (or canvass) needed to carry you until you were at least, oh, 23-25 years old. Well, that left a lot of belt left over to dangle like a gi belt. Um. Only longer. So that 'skrat got it a HUGE target (lucky for RSVP) and launched at it like a missle.

And. Was mom upset at our risky behavior around a running creek, culvert, and potentially rabid muskrat out for blood?

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR BELT YOUNG MAN WHEN WE GET HOME I'LL..."*


Happy birthday, Biggie. I love you.


* In all fairness, this is similar to the response I received when hit by two 10-Speeds while she taught a community ed belly dancing class, and I was led in the building fauceting blood, splinters, road rash, and a bloody nose...age 4. Note to past me? Do not wear your nice cowboy outfit and try to cross the street thinking you were faster than the bikers.

What...The...Frass...

(Please note the way the arrow on the package points to...the package)

I know this is far from being a triumphant return to the blog-o-sphere (esp. for my 2-3 adoring fans. And esp.esp. b/c I'm unemployed...AGAIN!) But this was FAR too precious to pass up a thought or three.

O'er breakfast today, I was flipping through the B,B&B circular and whilst adding color commentary to the newest gadgets that our upwardly mobile public may covet (Oh, and B, B, and B? $55,000 contest for college kids? That's greeeeeat. Poppa will take a check, thanks) such as a "Over the door 16 baseball cap holding cap rack"- I mean that was enough to make me chortle, right? (Mostly because I own maybe 3 baseball hats. The oldest dating back to 1995 when I did the most pull-ups of the day at the Marine recruiting station. That's right. Marines.)

I didn't even chuckle when they advertised the "Snuggie" (i.e. the "WTF Blanket". Mental note- Moda's birthday is coming up) No, no...the "Man-Groomer" caught my rapt attention.

Man-Groomer. Say it out loud. Go on. Say it yet? It sounds, people, like a bad SNL sketch from the 70's along with the Bass-O-Matic. I mean, really? Really? The ad showed someone shaving their shoulders and then another picture with a bare (baaaare) chest with captions saying "SHOULDERS AND ARMS!" and "CHEST AND BACK"...captions that would easily be found on an ad for Bowflex or a Weider Home Gym. Except, and really, really- LOOK AT THE BOX.

It should be called "B#ll-Shaver" and be done with it. Really. Ain't they got no mama?



More to come.

Nose-talgia...

Happy Father's day, y'all! For me, I'd like to send my love to RsVP and my own pa- The former for being someone who I emulated and held as the acme of coolness when I was a kid and the latter for being...well...my dad. I wouldn't be the frasser I am without him. Or be alive for that matter.


But...

Today we met the extended fam out at the OG in the Grove. I love our get togethers nowadays more than when I was a kid/teens/20's because I feel like there is a sense of candor now that I'm older that was never prevalent- Example? Today , the Lowry Bridge went down. And while I was elbowing my way through conversations about how I wanted to be there on my bike, my aunt quietly told me about how many trips she took in the late 50's early 60's to visit my uncle when they lived in North. Huh...I did not know this. And I love them for sharing.

Heading to the Grove, however, I chose to leave a lil' early so that I could make a personal side trip through my old nabe. Okay, so per normal I left late but was able to make it up Brooklyn Blvd which I titled "The Long Way" to the OG. And oh my, how things have changed. After dinner, I managed to have a maudlyn trip back home where I could really be a quizzacle investigator of my "old life". See, I realized that I've segmented so much of my wee existance into "BP years", "College/Uptown Years"/"NE years" etc that I kinda feel I don't respect the changes that happen.

So I toodle.

I toodle up Brooklyn Blvd. Taking a right on Jolly Lane after HWY 81. First thing I notice? Hollywood Video is gone. There's a Chipotle there now.

The Lutheran church where we had Scouts is still there. As is the graveyard across the street. The trailer that seemed a permanent resident in the parking lot for so many years with "Troop 542" is absent.

Further down, the DQ/now All American Recreation...site of many post-baseball parfaits is overrun with weeds.

The hotel is now a Ramada with waterpark. Charley Goodnight's is now a beach themed bar. Congratulations, Courtney and Peter...(On the sign out front, folks)

The church across from the Schulz's is still there. The ball park in front is gone, as is the bushes where we made forts. The last I remember, I used to vote in my district there when I turned 18.

Hotchkisses, Hengs, Lawreneces, Putnams, Skoogs, Dixons, Rikimotos, Speckmans, Emmons, Desrudes...all still in place. The siding is different on some, as is the shingles. A lot of "For Sale" signs. I circle my cul-de-sac to where ma and pa last sold their home in 2006. I see toys next to the neighbors (Illgen, Johnson, Peterson, Casperson...very nordic) and smack dab in the middle of my old lawn is another "For Sale" sign. 3 years later.

My elementary school is now an elementary school and rec center. My junior high is kinda the same. As is the old auditorium/theater I did my very first play...I head up 69th and not much has changed. Maranatha? Site of my big bro's first job? Still exists. In fact, nothing has changed much (Korean Evangelical Church? Check. Health Partners? Check. Post Office? Check) until you hit 69th and Brooklyn Blvd when the old Tasty outlet and Pop Shoppe shopping mall have made way for a Culver's and Subway.

Then I hit Mound cemetery after heading up a ways. I pass streets like "Georgia"..."France" (France. France! I sometimes forget my home town shared something with the Southwest suburb corner of 50th and France which neighbored my Uptown years!) and I pull in. Mom, Biggie, and I used to grab pastries from the Tastee outlet and come up there. We called the cemetary "Lambie" because of a lamb that rested on top of a tombstone. It'd be a while before I realized a lamb meant it was a grave marking for a child. A kid. Like I was. With my mini-glazed outlet donuts in their blue fold over box.


I say "Hi" to Eric.

I drive a little. I try and remember where the spot was that I remembered shortly after he passed where I saw the grave of a junior high girl (what was her name?) and it floored my 19 year old self at the time.

It's drizzling. And I realize that I'm a 34 year old man, who has just came from spending quality time with his extended family, answering family questions of how old I am/how the house is/how is Moda/etc...and I'm in a cemetery in my 15 minutes away home town.

In the rain.

I say "Bye" to Eric. And drive away. Past the industrial park that used to house the original factory of this little device called "Rollerblades" and a crappy baggy pants favored by bodybuilders, professional wrestlers, and d-bags called "Zubaz". I spy with my little eye Palmer Lake park where Ro, Dad, and I would walk Duchess with back packs full of Softner Salt to train for our backpacking trek of '89. Earle Brown is still there. So is the restaurant. And the Super 8. Aurther Treacher's Seafood/La Casita/...whatever it turned into is gutted and has a "Coming Soon" sign in front. I'm toodling some more. I need to go home.

Home, home. To Nordeast. To my garden. My freshly shorn lawn which, now, is almost glowing green. My cat. My roommate. My bed.


My home.

Sometimes they beach themselves when they're sad.

(Not pictured- Soaked through Costco tighty whities. Thanks, Moda. If you had sound-o-vision, you'd probably have heard me snoring.)

Memorial Day weekend 2009. (The remaining pics may be found on Frassbook, for the curious)

You have no idea how much I was looking forward to it. Really. The hours FLEW by on Friday and it was all I could do not to sprint out of the office to the LRT. We started the weekend fairly easy. We grilled a bit. Watched "Frost/Nixon" (excellent, btw) and made vows to take it relatively easy. Outside of a party for Moda's cast in South Mpls, and a boat trip on Memorial Day proper, it was ease...jogging...cleaning...gardening. Easy.

Well it turned out that I found someone at the party that grew up in the small (tiny) hometown we'd frequent where my gramma lived down in IA. When I heard it mentioned, my jaw dropped and we started drinking more beers, nibbling more lamb bites, and frassin' about who we knew. It was surreal. And I didn't end up getting home until the wee, weeeeee hours. And I still had to get up and make us a Memorial Day breakfast and hop down to Boom Island marina relatively early. Needless to say, our 8 am wake up call was marred with my feeling groggy and tired as all heck.

And then...we start cocktailing.

So D and KT were ready. Really ready. They had two coolers full of food and libations, a grill, a full tank of gas, and a day of fun in the sun planned. I had brought four beers that I figured would take us through the day but ooooohhh no. By the time we docked at the island, we had out pre-made gin and vodka martinis with stuffed olives, champagne, beer, and mojito's. I was having a GREAT old time scampering around barefoot when I took a fallen tree up over a pond that had formed when the river was higher. Long story short, I grabbed a dry branch which snapped and I took a header into the festering moat. Fully clothed. With wallet and cell phone deep in my buttoned pockets.

Winner.

I was lucky that it was about 5.5 feet deep. I was lucky a dead and bloated beaver didn't break my fall. I was unlucky that my phone is ruined. And that I spent several hours in my tightie whities sobering up on a blanket while my clothes...kinda...dried out. I'm just glad KT was a witness otherwise it'd have been chalked upto "Oh..dummy. You were buzzed and trying to play Spider Man you dope!" Swear. I had it under control. It was like in a movie. Except I lounged in my underpants for several hours afterward. And there were no leeches, thankfully, ala' "Stand by Me".

Wooooooooo...

7 hours, a mild case of sun stroke and exhaustion later it was all I could do to get showered and snuggle in to watch a little "Choke" before sleep took over. Getting up this morning was an epic, EPIC struggle. And I felt like a$$ all day at the office. The gut rot of mixing. I deserved it. I did. No one to blame but myself. And my healthy pre-summer lifestyle took the bench while I did the famous Baby P debauch routine.

Sigh. Hope y'all had good ones, kids. I don't get a three day weekend now until September. Frass.

Summah Lovin....

Is here. Truly. And I have high hopes that this summer will be a grand summer. The familiar feeling that starts off with plastic peeled off of the windows and allows a cleansing breeze to waft through your home. Some things that have got me positively glowing for this summer will comprise the bulleted content of today's blog. So read on, and let's start our summer off right:

The mower is out and has been tuned. Already I've had two epic mows, and already I need to fill the gas can to power me through the remainder of the summer. Edging has been made, and the impervious weed barrier underneath the cedar chips has failed in the sense that it is more creeping Charlie than mulch. My new lilacs, planted in 2005/06 are still budding. A good sign indeed. Outside of napalm, a good creeping Charlie remedy would be appreciated. The ginormous boxelder tree in my backyard is dropping whirligigs by the ton, and I've made a careful note to keep the herb pots cleared lest they get choked out MMA style like the cilantro and mint of 2008. I've sprayed weed killer, ant killer, and have been brewing ideas from other gardens I've spied on my daily jogs.

How doth my garden grow? Well, thank you. The garlic bulbs were bigger than my tulips in the front planters (RIP, btw) and we had milk jugs protecting the hydroponic tomatoes Moda was gifted at work. A trip to the Mill City and Lyndale Farmers markets yielded the following bounty:4 more heirloom tomato plants
cucumbers
zucchini
jalapeno
hot banana peppers
another hot pepper
3 varieties of sweet bell pepper
oregano

...To name a few.

We have an abundance of mint, and while our purple basil is a little mealy we have regular and Thai basil to make up for it. Otherwise a healthy dose of Osmacote has started us on our way. I have my planters planted for pretty decoration. Some of my annuals are returning. (Asiatic Lillies, wtf?!? You were dead to me!) And we've only had a few mishaps with bun-buns and squirrels. (The fencing went up a week or so after our first planting. Thankfully, I had enough left over to cover the remaining expansion. I just wish that I had put in asparagus in 2007 like I'd planned)

Getting up in my grill- It's been fired up almost every weekend these last few weeks. Asian turkey burgers, chicken feta spinach brats, chicky boobs, asparagus, and summer vegetables have all tasted the fiery tongue of the Char-Master. I have a ginormous frozen salmon plank from my parents that's fixing for a night to share with buddies...(And fresh potted rosemary. Swoon!)

Spring cleaning- I've scoured my house from top to bottom, getting the dust bunnies from under chairs, vacuuming vents, bleaching the bathroom, and generally making sure corn isn't growing under my bed or behind the couch. Since it's completion last year, my front porch was the lowest cleaning priority, but upon sweeping up massive piles of dirt (where did YOU come from when no one has walked in the back corner since October?) and using the hardwood sweeper to finish the job, we had our first breakfast on the porch with the windows thrown open.

The first a/c running of 2009. I hadn't noticed it, but I guess we had a few uncomfortable nights. Good thing I tuned the a/c and that my roommate was home more than I was to fire it up. Only an hour or two, but the house cooled of spectacularly for a wonderful night of rest.

Sweaters have been stored, as have the heavy winter coats. Shorts now adorn their former closet space. I've also been donning more short sleeved work shirts. Pip.


Lastly, heart health- After crashing at home when my shift ends, I've been able to muster enough energy to go on daily epic jogs. It's been hard. In spite of stretching my buns off, taking a day off to go on a 2 hour walkabout in lieu of jogging (wound up near HWY 280 from my house) and a few days off here and there I'm still a sore pampy. My goal is simple- Get a size down in my jeans so I have more short options and obtain more visible definition by mid-to-late June. (A Memorial Day weekend set back, to be blogged about later, will explain my shortcomings.)

I look forward to more summery-vibed blogs going forward. Mill City bike trips for momo's, Farmer's Market brat-fueled shopping, future garden bounty, river boat trips with DeeG and DeeB's, bonfires, nights whiling away on the front porch, and discovering more of MN's epic trail hiking system have all found their way on to my radar.

Yee Haw. Bring it, summer.

On the other hand...let's Trek.

A whim.

Moda had rehearsal. She'd stated vehemently she'd not want to see it. Vehemently. (For the record...I wasn't vehement when I said I'd rather see "Wolfie" than "The Soloist"...I was just buzzed)

So.

When I get back from a Monday jog...mowing the lawn...weeding...cleaning and dusting the house...canvassing...I'm ready to shower and go to bed...and I see one...ONE person's FB status saying they would be at my neighborhood art-house theatre seeing "The Trek"

Well F#ck.

So I went.


This will be shorter than the previous review, promise.

I grew up, not only on the Wars that were in the Stars, but the Trek.
We watched the cartoon.
We had phase...

F#ck that.

It was great. I don't think I've grinned like an idiot from ear to ear at a movie in a long time. He did it right. Folks are saying "Bond" and "Batman" are in the same league, I'm gonna argue differently-

Bond was great. Really great. And it made one of the best thriller spy films to date.
Batman 1 and 2 the same. I mean, we were at the same theater and my girlfriend and roommate were crying. At a SUPERHERO movie. Good stuff.

This one...it made me smile. It made me remember how much fun it was when the Winnebago went from the Millennium Falcon to the Enterprise when we were all 11-13 and "Jedi" had been out of the theatres for years. When our dirtbikes led our "Away Team" missions. When I owned the patches for all of the Starfleet area's of office. (I probably still have "officer" and "science officer" patches somewhere)...heck I remembered my dad taking RSVP and I to the Camden theatre to see "The Motion Picture" and not getting it...at all.

I even cried a little during "Wrath of Khan". Of course, I cried during "Top Gun" 4 years later. A big exposed nerve, I am.

Did I have issues? Sure. I won't spoil'em, and they sure weren't part of the original canon, but they were never enough to take me away from the story. And the story, is what I think they got right.

If you're a "Trek" nerd, or are mildly familiar with the original series/movies you have no choice but to see it. If you've never seen a "Trek" film/show etc...don't worry. This is all the primer you'll need.

Wolferine...a review...

I feel bad for dumping stupid work malfeasance on the masses. Last weekend Moda and I met some buddies for mega-cheap HH at Stella's (Which, my fish loving buddies, should all hit. It ain't called the Oyster Orgy for nothing.) Afterwards, aglow with cheap oysters and 2-fers we wandered over to the Lagoon where I grumped Moda into seeing "Wolferine"...Why this popcorn flick was playing there, I don't know. That instinct should have trumped my inner nerd, but the wine made me bold. I demanded. And Moda, the champ, said "yes"...

I'm not gonna talk about the film too much. I wanna keep this short. I'm one of the few that likes certain movies that folks like to gang up and hate. Me? I find the LOVE. Star Wars prequels? F@ck you. There were lightsaber fights. If I had to wait until floppy Jar Jar left, fine. If I had to wade through the EMO acting stylings of Hayden Pantyterry then fine.

Then I realized the power of "3"- X3? out of the hands of Singer? It wasn't an abortion...it just was a muddled good idea. "Pirates"? Glut. Way. Too. Glut. "Blade 3"? Well...let's chalk "Wolverine" up to a case of Reynolds-itis.

I like Ryan Reynolds. He's a gen X Chevy Chase. Smart Ass. And he can be charming in the right vehicle. And for Deadpool? The Merc with a Mouth? Perfect.

Except...okay, here are my analogies:

"Wolvie" was like that kid in High School. Popular. With everyone. Easygoing. Athletic. Coulda probably gotten an athletic scholarship to...oh, maybe a Div 2 school. But they choose academia. And accepted a full-ride to, oh, Northwestern. Even after High School...and beyond...folks remember that kid fondly.

Except around 2nd semester, he agree's to go to a party. His buddies goad him into getting stoned. Pretty soon, their Saturdays revolve around the bong and "Real Genius" on DVD. This kid drops out after 2nd semester. Moves back home. He becomes..."The Case"...the one who shows up at home with 7-8 of his "buddies" back from 2-1's at Applebee's. He ends up working a dead-end job...all that hope and prospect...gone...Washed out.

See...I KNOW what they wanted to do with "Wolfie"...They just dissapointed the frack out of me. Washed it out with too many characters in the hope they'd appease hardcore nerds in order to be true to the source materieal. In fact, Wolfie was the least interesting character out there. I mean, they tried to establish a minimum of cannon in order to make this...but one of the earliest lines he spoke in the 1st movie when he was asked if his claws hurt to come out? He says "Every Time"...Well Mo-Fo made a point to pop out his claws every chance he got. Hurt...indeed.

That's not to say I didn't like it. There was a lot TO like, but I liked it because I knew what they were trying to do. I would have hated it as a newbie. I would have been confused. And what would have cut down on that confusion is by making this High School Hopeful's useless stoner buddies...I mean.. Wolfie's Weapon X cronies (Gambit, Deadpool, um...Gun-Guy...Black-Eyed Pea's Cowboy...Wannabe Fattie...) non-existent. For an origin story, it really made us try an look away from the facts.


And more blood. Weird, I know, but considering the two characters combating each other the whole movie have...um, claws? You'd think they'd make it a little bloodier. Heck, the first "X" had more bloodshed. This? Neutered.

Sad thing is...I'll probably still buy it an re-watch it. : (

Owe a blog or tuppence...

Has it been a month?

The important thing to remember about new big-kid work gigs is establishing a routine. For me, it meant learning how to get up before the ass crack of non-dawn. As a mildly insomniatic frasser, I figured this'd be no big deal. So I started my daily routine with stretching, push ups, and crunches to help "wake me up".

Doesn't work so well. I'm back on coffee faster than Bub's jumps on heroin...fans of "The Wire" will get that...

I'm not gonna lie. I'm not a fan of the new gig. I have limited interweb access. It's busy. 8 hours worth of busy from 1st log in. No down time. And I'm expected to churn out productivity like it was my jo...Okay. Shup. But 8 hours non-stop outside of my particular skill set hurts. And I'm new. And it's hard to formulate a response to my S.O. when asked: "how was your day?" when it starts so early and your faculties don't kick in until hour 2 that you really don't know how your day was until it's over. For real. (I sometimes forget cases I worked on a mere 6 hours prior because I'm not "with it" until 8 a.m. A co-worker will ask "Do you remember this case?" And I'll say "No" and really? It's no big surprise to anyone at the office. We easily work 250 orders a day.)

So I'll break this down, pro and con, and hope I don't get deuced in the interim. I may need to get some job counselling soon.




Pro- I started light railing. I had a practice jump a few weeks back when I forgot my cell phone at work and now I'm an old pro. Get up at 4:45. Stretch/Push Up/Sit Up. Hit the Hiawatha line by 5:25. Read for 20 minutes. I'm there. I'm saving over 20 miles a day in commute time. I can read the 20 minutes until I'm there. Unless early morning airflight travellers knock my head with their luggage. F#cks.

Con- I get home 30 minutes later than I normally would. I park in a conspicuously break-inable Park and Ride. I have to walk four blocks to my building in the morning, rain or shine. The LRT bells are pretty jarring when you haven't woken up yet. And my first trip to work I had a Shawshank style shakedown when I couldn't produce my paid-pass which was deep in my satchel that I'd tucked in after paying. (Note to self. Keep paid-pass close to your paid ass)

Pro- I'm done, off shift, ridiculously early. On the days I may commute? Traffic is nil. Esp. in the a.m. The only worries I have are when MNDoT chooses that day to arbitrarily close a lane to do Crosstown makeovers.

Con- When I was searching for work, I kinda was hoping for something closer to the metro. Sure it's on the LRT, but man...It's behind MOA. And no sensible MN'otan goes there unless necessary or has a crowd fix that can't wait until the State Fair. Beggars can't be choosers and all that...but still...

Pro- Such a laid back environment. It's almost lovey dovey. It's diverse. (Moreso than the Stag) Someone told me that I was called "McHottie" during training. (Don't people keep that to themselves?). I've seen people hug. They're fairly laid back. There is free water, coffee, overtime is encouraged with the threat of free catered food, plenty of fridge space...My yogurt hasn't disappeared yet.

Con- I hate it. I'm used to such a safe, structured corporate environment= even when I was in such a diverse place as the Bullseye= I still think it's weird. I'm not cool with words like "retard" being thrown around to describe people co-workers think are dumb. Or "Gay". It doesn't strike me as insensitive or deliberate...just ignorant. And a minor bitch, there isn't a stall in the men's room that has a partition. Which, okay, whatever. I've pissed at the Metrodome. But your junk is in plain view of ANYone standing in front of the mens room door when it opens. (Anyone) And I guess, well, I thought there'd be a little something to keep the lil' guy from public eyes.

Pro- I'm starting to "get" it now. I've gotten past the freshman hump, and I think I'm getting it now. I've been doing overtime. Asking fewer questions from my resources.

Con- I realize that this isn't a job for someone with 14 years of corporate quality/training experience...or corporate experience in general. If I was just out of college...heck..HIGH school...I could get this job in a few weeks. Move up. And hell, I find myself wishing I had...housing market being what it is.

But after the initial freshman shakes wore off, I figured out how the productivity cheaters cheat. Why the people who are perm. reps are jaded. And even after working 3 weeks and seeing 8 new "new hire" classes come through...realized I'm sort of disposable. It doesn't feel like home. My 22 co-worker b#tches up a storm daily. I used to wonder why they made such a fuss about being on time until my cube mate (I share a cube) frequently shows up 10-45 minutes late and takes 8...8 breaks a day...4 of which to smoke, and the first only 25 minutes after she's shown up.

In short...I feel old. Overqualified. And swimming in a pool of people who could give a f#ck when I'm in debt, have a house...roommate...car...cat...and really care about being employed. It's frustrating.

And I can't blog at work. Or check Yahoo. And I hear people b#tch about being bored at work?

(sighs) I go from being unhappy at my big kid job. To unhappily unemployed. To temp. To unhappy temp. I don't even have a theater gig to look forward too.

Double sigh.

Did I mention I have to get up at 4:45 am?

Did I mention I get "coaching tips" from my direct report...on s#it I never was trained on how to do in the first place?

Did I mention there was no training? We had 2 days of "This is the Company!" Then we sat with people who did their jobs...and didn't tell us how to do it.

8 New Hire classes have came in since I started. All with the same frightened look that the last one did. The same one I did.

I put my stuff away in a single drawer so that the p.m. person who shares my desk doesn't feel like I'm horning in. My disrespectful cubbie doesn't feel like that. She set up shop as soon as she set down with a box from her last job. 20 odd family pics. Beanie Babies. Coffee mugs full of pens. On the weekend, I ran into a buddy from my 1st training class asking what the f@ck was wrong with the person that sits there in the morning?!?!?


I don't know. I just tune her, and her s#itty IPOD music that I politely...and repeatedly...and repeatedly (she turns it up if I leave for break or lunch...or get an email from someone asking why she needs it so loud?) tell her to turn it down...

Anyway. I'm still on the hunt, folks. I'm feeling 3rd grade patronized, daily. And it chips at the soul.

Oops...I owe a job blog

It's been a whirlwind at the temp gig. I've been experiencing the ups and downs that anybody goes through when they are training- confusion, elation at remembering work details, frustration that I wasn't issued my parking pass which resulted in getting red-slip reminders (Thankfully, no boots or towing of my vehicle) and I'm settling in slightly. I haven't really seen much of my direct manager but it seems that there are batches upon batches of temps coming through after me which leads me to believe they may need to open another floor to accommodate us all.

And there's the commute.

It's been pretty easy, all told, in spite of the construction on 35. Except the last few days have been a little weird. I was stuck behind two F-150's who were pretty lost coming to the Crosstown and were puttering along at 30 mph which caused some wheel-clutching as I worried I'd be a little late (And believe me, they are death-death-death on even a smidgen of late-liness) Yesterday I realized that accidents don't cause MN'aton's to become lookiloo's, but construction turns folks in to an older version of a 8 year old with Tonka Trucks when the big back ho is being used to tear up concrete with a wrecking ball dangling precariously from a mega-chain. It caused traffic to snarl for 10 minutes while they watched road crews demolish 35 SB in an astonished fashion. Frustrating for yours truly. Fascinating for people who think that sort of thing is incredible. (This theory is backed up by the 5 people I have told, including my roommate, who said that they would have probably done the same thing and watched...even after the fact I was in disbelief)

One notable thing- I downsized my man-purse to accomodate a Trapper-Keeper folder I found to keep my temp paperwork/job aids seperate from the contents of my bag (including my lunch) in order to lighten my load as it was. It was an old thing, but still in tact and apparently was a throwback to my big bro's HS days. (Yes, I still have that s#it on hand. Bite me) I threw it in my manbag without realizing that someone scrawled the word "ASS" in block letters with a Sharpie on it before tossing it on the desk of my trainer before engaging in side-by-sides...I kept that side down before getting to work.

In other news, my SO is on her epic "Thelma and Louise" road trip and her texts are making me drool with wanderlust.

Beers in Moab indeed.

So yeah...new joerbed...

The first two days of jobhood are a bit of a whirlwind. The first thing you want to do is maintain the air of enthusiastic energy coupled with a forwarded minded sense of mobility. This, of course, is difficult when after having spending many weeks of bathrobed unemployed torment can cause a sense of internal tumult. You spend an inordinate amount of time in a training room with the lights off getting a wash of new-company information like business tiers, mission statements, internal structure, corporate goals, manager names, associate manager names, team lead names...not to mention the shadowing of individuals whose positions you will be emulating with the caveat that "It seems a LOT at first but in time you'll get it..."

And you know you will. And it still leaves you feeling like you've watched a 10 hour anime' festival. Headachey, boarderline epilleptic, and exhausted. Thank goodness you learn that coffee and water is free in the breakroom.

What tends to set my Spider Sense off if that there is such a large number of temps in the office. Almost 80% (if they aren't management) are temps. Certain key phrases that set me off are thrown out "turnover", "You aren't 'JUST' a temp'...", "Cultish atmosphere", and other bon mots that make me wary. Not to mention the fact that the pay cut, after I do some careful math, is considerable. This would be a great job if I was just out of college and upwardly mobile. (As one of my trainers pointed out they were.) But for a guy that has 14 years of corporate experience and after quietly (impressive for me, I know) observing certain behaviors is not quite sure this...again...is the right fit.

See, it made me realize you are at the discretion/peril of the agency you get work through- You are told the name of the company, the"possible" job title, a very-very generic description of responsibilties, and the pay range. The more desperate (read, Me) will gobble it up. You get sucked in by the agencies enthusiasm, their description that many temps have landed GREAT permanent positions and this is one of their FAVORITE companies to staff for! (Why so great? Because they fire and re-hire you to re-staff them? The current 80% temp staffing is what set me off to that)

So. I perservere. I will work this job. And in the mean time...

I troll my dad's place of employment. Not my calling, but for what they do it pays infinitely more than what I'd earn at the above.

I send a resume' to another place recommended by Bri-Bay. Again, not the same $ but it's downtown, better $, and not temp. (Read: Benefits)

I do the same thing I always do and send a resume to a job I am probably hugely underqualified for but liked the position nevertheless. (Maybe not hugely, but it was a leap. I hope my cover letter "professionally" made them smile)

And off to another week.

Oh Hai...Jobbed!

Yes, yes. It was a fast turnaround to be sure. And I'm glad of it.

So after checking my business on Monday and wondering where the hellacious stomach cramps and nausea were coming from, I received a call from the Temp agency with the question:

Can you come out today for a 3pm interview.


Wellllll...I was going in for a mani/pedi, and I've got to watch a repeat of the watered-down VHS taped TV version of "The Breakfast Club"...but I guess I'll make this onnnnnne exception HELLS YES!

So I pace. I frass. I try to go for a run but end up getting sick midway through and turning around. I wait. (It was still reasonably early, btw) Shower. Shave. And sweat. Wait, what? Sweat?

Yup. I have a sheen, at this point dear Martin, and I'm feeling re-grossed out.

I check and re-check the directions and head on out early. Annnnnnnd 35 W South is now down to TWO lanes? Furk.

I arrive and check myself in the rearview. (I drove with the "cold" blasting from my blower so I wouldn't sweat again) Turns out (A) I didn't shave well. At all. There's a dark soul-patch looking thing at the corner of my mouth in addition to a sideburn that has turned into a Triffid. Great. Also, a cut on my chin. Great. Also...dry skin? I have dry skin? And it's a lot. I get out and head in, noticing the car booted next to mine. (I saw the sign that says if you aren't here on company business you'd be booted. Great. I hope they were warned)

I join the group of 16 other hopefuls in the lobby with my contact who I'd only spoken to on the phone. (Tall drink of water, btw. She assures me my car will be fine) I head to the restroom to check my appearance in full light and...Gah. My hair is still wet a bit and slicked down. I look like an extra from "There Will Be Blood". I flumpf it up as best I can, brush off superfluous dust/dandruff/kitteh hairs from my blazer and use a wet napkin to blanche the dry skin off of my neck. Okay.

By the time I got back out to be let upstairs, I was sweating again. Nervous sweat. And as we were led to a conference room, I ended up sitting between a recruiter and a manager. (God, Oh God, please don't let me smell. Please) I nervously mop off my forehead with an extra paper towel I swiped and absentmindedly listen to the speaker speak. Before going, my recruiter told me that this company is cool, see? And she loved hiring for them but they were hard to break into but the guy leading this was a guy who was temp and is now managerial after a few months. Okay. I get called up, and wonder if it's sweat I can feel trickling down my arm or my imagination. If you've ever sweated in a suit, it sucks.

So we interview. It's cool in the office, which I'm grateful for. I realize my normally hip and frassless demeanor has been shaken a bit. I see my hands are a little shakey (No breakfast) and my answers are slightly stuttered. (What? Actor, rehearse, hello?) I glide through it, shake hands, and depart.

2 hours later, I find I'm one of a few candidates to land the position and they really liked me. Thank you, Sally Fields. And I pass out that night, only to stay awake until dawn.

So now, I'm setting out my clothes. I went and got a respectable (kinda) haircut. My car runs. And I turned in my background check info yesterday. (Who'da thunk remembering address for the last 8 years woulda been tough, right?)

And now, we will have a night in with Mexican food and hopefully all will be well. If I don't post as much, remember I'll fill you in later in the evening.

Yee-Haw

You need a "Hero"...

Hey all. I got a job. But before I frass about that tomorrow (I wanted to shore up things with the UNEMP website...which is about as easy as translating Sanskrit...and verify employment before I frassed about it.)

So today's post is about "Heroes". I have the same frassin' issues that most folks have had with the series. Moda and I Netflixed it, got into it, then promptly got disgusted post-strike. She's slowly weaned herself off of trying to stay involved whereas the true geek that I am will be attempting to ride it out. This post is particularly regarding tonights episode. If you'd like some re-caps on other episodes to discuss please feel free to leave comments or email me if you have it. But my butt is sore from simultaneously watching it on Hulu/checking emails/reading the UNEMP website to so if you do, I'm grateful- Enjoy

***SPOILERS- BE WARNED!!!***


Okay, last week was a good cliff hanger that set me up for the new writers who are (probably) still finding their sea-legs and figuring out what they could kibosh/clean up from the horrors of season 2/3. I held my expectations until the end and while I liked it overall I still had some fanboy/fan issues:

Teh Like-

Peter and Mrs. Petrelli figuring their s#it out. I hope this will eventually either solidify her as a strong goal-driven character or be the f#ck-all Judas of the series. I think past seasons would have spent 70% of the episode discussing feelings and how Peter didn't like Fruit Loops as a kid but because Nathan did they always bought Fruit Loops and "Goddammit, Ma...I LIKE FRUITY PEBBLES...BECAUSE...WELL...I LIKE GEOLOGY*, and NOT GEOMETRY!!!"

Nathan and Claire...I wasn't sure why they were in Mexico and it didn't bother me as much as I thought. (Like when you said "WTF is Hiro doing in 17th century Japan?") They're on the lam, and you probably (like me) were distracted because Claire has such CUTE new bangs that make her look slightly older so you don't feel guilty thinking she's a cutie-pie. His post-drunk confessional in the hotel room (only slightly spoiled because I was like "Whoa, folks...Biological Father here and she's undressing his drunk-ass")

I mean, it was kinda faulty ("I'm gonna bet frat boys that I can outDRINK them to get money! THAT'S my solution...by the way, my power is that I can fly...") but having her pick up the slack because she can regenerate. Okay, okay, fine...it might promote underage drinking, but she can f#cking regenerate and is nigh on immortal. It's cool if y'all are altruistic and shit, but if you can't attack the ol' liver with some fervor just to have it grow back, well...it's time to challenge yourself. Ask Wolverine. (So yeah...good job using a power for something kinda practical.) And their talk the next day was pretty earnest as well, and holy shit, Mr. Natalie Maines was finally ACTING instead of "Jaw-Acting" while looking serious...Good boy.

I'm glad the shape-shifter was a skivvy douche and not another "OH F#CK...I HAVE A POWER!!! Don't HURT MEEEE!!!") It's like the old "Would you choose flight over invisibility?" conundrum. They say folks who choose "invisibility" would totally pull a Kevin Bacon in "The Hollow Douche" and rape and pillage his invisible junk through the world. This guy could look like whoever he wanted, and did, and tried to score...prick. So when "Terminally Ill Looking agent" and Skylar went looking, you were like "Yeah. Fucking get that T-1000 having-Roofie-Popping Douche!!!"

They didn't try to shoehorn EVERY other character in just to say "Their still here! Don't forget them!" Oh we won't network. We may seem like forgetful frassers, but we wanna know what happens next okay? That's what a cliffhanger ending is called, and that is how people will come back and watch your show.

Sylar's eye change at the end. Nice touch. He (disguised as she) could have done a ghetto-ass effect and had him just shake his head five times going "budga-budga-budga-budga" and been MAGIC Sylar again.

"We Gotta Get Out of this Place" as a closing montage song? Nice touch.


The not-so-"HERO"-ic: (IMHO)

(Disclaimer- I'm not against allegory, just when it doesn't seem to need to be there)

So Peter and his Ma take refuge in a church and have a protracted dialogue regarding his and her upbringing, and eventually make amends. Great. But he puts her in dry clothes which "shawl" her and BOOM...we have the Virgin Mary in the pews staring at the statue of Jesus! It's practically a reverse pieta when Peter (And sorry. He still sounds like the guy at the High School party who brings their guitar and is like...all emo like..."Hey...I wanna play for you ladies this song I wrote called 'More Than Words'. It's from my soul and stuff". I want him to turn into hardcore "future" Peter where he's bitter and jaded and gets a scar from Sylar. ) But he gives this speech in the church that didn't seem to have the same impact as, say, this one from the "West Wing": (Back me up, Eva and Wiiman)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FScv89J6rro

Too. Forced.

Claire and Daddy are in Mexico. Why? Isn't Alejandro still alive? I didn't like him, but they could have done another throwback. Yeah?

Mr. "Doesn't Look Too Healthy" guy and his new friend Sylar: "Can you not do the head thing?" And Sylar DOESN'T?!?!? C'Mon. He shouldn't be doing it at all then. Yeah, he learned "not" to during season 2, but it's Sylar. Frack. A killer!

I want Peter to have different powers now. Again. Like season 1. There are still too many "I don't have the same powers" or "I've lost my powers" types running around. (Well, if Hiro still doesn't have his time-travel powers that'd be okay by me)

If you've read this, I'm amazed.

* On another site, I mistakenly wrote "Geography". My bad. I also caught my displeasure at Sylar's lengthy expository discourses when a strong/silent killer is cooler than a chatty one. "Ohhhhhh you caught me MONOLOGUING!!!"

UE week 2 redux...a call would be nice.

Those happy folks at the temp agency haven't called with a status etc. I've called them, emailed. Nada. And this, my friends, is getting re-dick. So rather than post more nonsensical "Woe is me I'm feeling disheartened and f#cked" I may try and get back in to the swing of more hot-hoppin topical frass including garden updates etc.

For example- Our garlic bulbs are sprouting. After this long frassy winter, we are finally seeing the fruits (which, in my mind, is funnier when you pronounce "Frew-Wits") of our fall plantings. I saw a squirrel digging around there yesterday and want to keep small rocks here and there to peg at the little bastiges if they try and uproot anything before I have time to put the fence back up.

"Hedda" closed yesterday which means I get my SO back. I mean this both mentally and physically (without sounding too theatre widow-y) I got to do something I actually like doing with theatre which is watching runs from the early days to closing weekend and seeing if I can see the growth which invariably happens during the course of a production. Really, if you missed this one you missed a really amazing production (bias aside, b#tches) with not only Moda shining but a group of actors who worked very well together as an ensemble. (And the tech, direction, sound, set, and of course translation) Anyway, for some reason it felt really good to be at the theatre yesterday. Not just b/c I saw a bunch of peeps in one setting that I normally can only say "hi" to at parties but the Larry was there in addition to the Bean bringing his cousin and her talking group of sassy seniors...clearly I was in my demographic. And loved it. Especially when that cute blue hair with the walker kept holding my hands because I was "warm"...rrrowr.

I tried a new restaurant! (Thanks ma and pa) An intial "epic fail" on my part by way of recommendation (Note to TC restaurants...STOP BEING CLOSED ON FRICKING SUNDAYS!!! It's bad enough that Moda and my Thai jones always seems to fall on the day of our lord but c'mon?!?!?! My folks occasionally rely on their mildy cosmopoliton and not-so-mildly douchey kid to make said recommendations and I'm all like "Blah Blah really-good-restaurant right next to the theatre blah blah plenty of time." Only to see that it was closed Sundays. Folks, seeing late matinee shows is kind of the way theatre was originally intended to be. On one hand, as a performer it can lend weird energy to a production since a show will fall on the final day of a weekend run which tend to be tiring. (Not so with "Hedda"...if anything it was probably one of the best I'd seen of the run. Yeah, nice kid, "Cause you saw soooooo many of the shows." Douche)

On teh other hand, I think that it gives you the chance to see a show and have time to go out for dinner and drinks afterward to discuss what you saw...without exiting a theatre late a night and giving your kiss-good-byes and going to bed. It's early enough where dinner isn't eaten before hand you're full and need to get up- You can go and have a built in conversation afterwards. And theatre can do that for you. Yee-haw.


I digress.

So I wrote a review of the place (Im working on submitting writing samples, see? So rather than repeat my crap here I'm hoping eventually it gets published so I can say "Hey! Go here! You can get more of baby P's crap at www.please hire the f#ck out of me.com!") and lets just say the drama getting us there was worth it. I have a thing these days where I kinda don't like drinking before shows since I want to give coherent non-boozy comments to any and all friends afterwards but dad, D, and M all pouring over the beer/wine menu coupled with an enthusiastic server frassing about happy hour coupled with his later "whoops...accidentally poured this extra Belgian and you mentioned you like Belgian ales so here it is for free kid" sorta kinda made me have to 86 the rule. Whoops.

Anyway- "Ngon" on University in Saint Paul- Almost to Dale st. on the North side of Univ. I got what I thought was a simple chicken (free range and pulled, tanks!) and noodle dish and ended up with a mixing bowl sized portion of brothy goodness for under $8. Fair warning- I was given a side dish of mung beans and jalapenos and after inquiring as to what I was to do with them ("Toss them in the dish!" Our cute server who was still wearing her sunglasses on her head enthused) ended up being a too-hot mistake. Instead of being able to savor it and because we were in a hurry I dumped it all in and tried wolfing it down toward the end which only resulted in that oh-so-f#cking uncomfortable burning sensation in my mouth/throat/stomach for the rest of the afternoon/evening. Frass. All told, still a tasty tasty treat.


Lastly...I hate the ending of the remastered version of "Return Of the Yedi"...hate. I want the stupid tribal ending with that...what's that song the fuzzy midgies sing again? "Chump Dump"? Anyway, the Enya-esque ending sucks...and I for one am glad I still own my original 1997 VHS re-releases that are unspoiled.

And have Han shooting Greedo first. Yeeeeah.

Unemp...aw this is too depressing to keep typing.

I type this after coming home from helping my folks with manual labor for cash. Normally, I'd do it for free but they offered $ and I can't turn it down. So I hauled brush, rolled on the ground with their dog, swept the garage, listened to how piss poor the economy was but is getting better, and headed home.

Clearly, I need to re-think my strategy.

I received a "Thanks but no-thanks" email from one of the places I had applied while I was out, re-applied for a few Craigslist places including ones looking for a writer...and took a nap.

I just re-watched "Star Wars" and remembered why I'm doing what I love to do. I am a Jedi. Don't forget.

Unemployment wk 1 redux...This is getting old.

So I have failed miserably in my previously posted list. (I ran on Tuesday, but Wednesday and Thursday provided not a singular gym visit) And so, I atrophy and sloth.

Moda hooked me up with frassin' through Craigslist for employment which has had a few more leads I was able to capitalize on, but they're still fairly thin. I worry.

I worry more because my house-arrest is becoming comforting. Get up, check business, look out doors, check business, clean. At least I was able to fix my frassy toilet. And by fix, I did what Dad and I did a few months back and hit the thing with my fist and it stopped doing the gurgle thing after you flush. Home Improvement...I has it.

I worry still because the temp agency hasn't called to say they wanted me to come back to the Barn. I figured I would have heard back by now, but nothing still. Back to checking unemployment.

I made dinner for Moda and I on our one night off together. (We watched "Pineapple Express" which was funny up until the last 15-20 minutes and more of "The Wire") In the interest of being budget conscious I made garlic mashed potatoes with the taters Ma and Da got me from the place with the deals. I won't lie. The smell...the way it makes me feel like I smell...has been a pre-occupation of mine since Wednesday night. I can't stand to get rid of it since it'd seem wasteful, and yet I can only afford myself a forkful or two here and there. It pervades my head when a chunk of garlic "pops" between my teeth. Seriously. This is no joke. I smell. I'm certain of it. Give me a cardboard backing and a plastic covering, hang me next to Skeletor and call me "Stinkor!" and you'll have some idea. Soux chef-ery is not in my immediate future.


I think today, I will go to the Como park conservatory. I have a buck I can donate, and I think the heat and foliage will do me good. This "nice" to "bulls#it" weather has got me down a bit. (58 degrees a week ago and 17 degrees today? I cry BULLS#IT!!!)