New Jobbbb!

Hey. I gotta job! Technically I'm finishing my third week, but it's new to me! For the first time in over 2 years I got myself a FT position, with bennies, and NOT as a temp. (More on that in a second.)



So there I was temping over at the Blue Electric Box and thinking that it'd be a decent temporary gig, but the managers mentioned that as they grow as a department, the possibilities of placing me as a permanent employee would grow as well. And that was fine. I mean, it was work. There was the on-site gym. Great cafeteria. Actor friendly. (Meaning, quite a few actor buddies were on site) Seemingly Flexible. And more or less Friendly. (You grow to loathe the "temp treatment"...regardless of what you think or what the managers say, I'd been placed at 3 different offices where you were treated with outright contempt. Kind of like being relegated to the cafeteria table away from the popular kids. And you eat it. Every day. Because you need the job. At least I did...)



My issue was that it was kinda mind-numbing. Under-challenging. Moreover, my direct report was...not a people person? Exact opposite, in fact. A poooooor leader. Yelled instructions and assignments at us through our door in passing. I had to schedule a meeting w/my temp agency as to what direction I was going since it didn't seem like I was getting a whole lot of guidance. (And he was a mouse-grabber. Like, grab your mouse right out of your hand to "show" you what he couldn't communicate verbally. Bad form.) Then when you couple in the fact that he was a little condescending- to everyone- I was getting antsy and a little pissy. (The "productivity" tracker they implemented was bullshit too. That's neither here nor there. I just haaaaaaate micro-management)


And then the Careerbuilder threw me a bone.


There was a QA position in a small company that was literally a nickel toss away from my home. The required skill set seemed aligned with my own so I threw'em my resume' and as luck would have it- I landed an interview. (First a phone interview w/their Vegas HR dept. Which was...weird...if not a little casual) I ended up with a face to face 2nd interview the following week and my hopes were starting to get higher. After I took the day off at the Temp job to hit it... I marveled at the 3 minute commute from my front door. I imagined bike rides. Lower blood pressure due to not having a s#itty commute. And after finally meeting the interviewers with their ridiculous sense of humor, the fact that one of them found my marathon small talk interesting, being told I was the best fit for the position based on my experience...It was in the BAG, baby!!!


AAnnnnd I blew it. Actually, I was positive I blew it. Something felt wonky when I walked out. And after 5 days of waiting w/baited breath and thinking about how to word my resignation email...I got the "we decided to go in another direction" phone call. So...I exhaled. Spent a day stewing with it. And woke up the next day thinking about how I was going to make my next few (days/weeks/months/years) working at Blue Box pleasant. That's right. I decided to flip my attitude and see if I could make a go of it. Good for me, right? Didn't mean I wouldn't keep looking for other things, right? RIGHT??!?!?!


And like an 80's movie where the "ex" comes back while you're just getting on your feet? Apparently one of the candidates dropped and they called me to ask if I was still interested in the position. MY EMOTIONS!!!! YOU TOY WITH THEM!!!!


There were some wonky hitches...I kept it on the complete down low until the offer was extended, accepted, my paperwork was received and in good order...hell, I thought I'd jinx it until after my pee-test cleared. But clear it did. And on 6/13? Jobbed. It didn't take me more than a day to realize that I made a good choice. It might have been also when the CEO dropped off the company magazine and actually said "Here's one for Mikey!" that I was almost positive I did.

The money isn't tremendous. And figuring out benefits after nearly 8 years was a chore. But it is a small company. And growing, with a good business model. With the commute being so easy, it's amazing I spent so many years angry at other people...more amazing I didn't suffer a heart attack. My co-worker is cool. She's a gear-head and a self-proclaimed "Jeep Snob" who fills me in on she and her husbands latest off-road shenanigans. (I'm learning about cars, yo. A LOT about cars) So yeah. I can go to the doctor and dentist now. Pip.



So that, friends, is me at my new job.

Grandma's Recap

(Pictured- Ebullience at mile #5)



Well...it's been over a week and she's ambulatory and running again, so I hope you'll forgive this race recap for being a little late. Yes, she finished the world famous G-Ma's Marathon and lived to tell the tale. FeeJ and I (with the eventual additions of Cap'n Dawn, Melbus, and Cap't Dottie) crewed like fiends with FeeJ doing a lion's share by hauling me around and snapping some tremendous photo's. (As seen above and below. She has a good eye, that one.)



Without getting into too much detail (and with my already terrible penchant for rambling-moreover rambling about running), I think I'd like to tell my 4 readers: Go and watch a marathon. Moreover, leapfrog mileage stops from as close to the start of the race all the way to mile 25. I'm not saying it'll replace your favorite professional sports team, but (for me) the experience- watching almost an entire marathon from start to finish? Was almost transformative.

We made it to our Kampsite Friday afternoon, had a nice dinner at the local restaurant down the street from the Kampgrounds, and turned in early...only to be roused by pissing rain coming down on the rooftop and an anxious-to-make the bus Moda. At 4am. I was still without my faculties at this point. After making it in to Duluth, FeeJ and I killed time at a Perkins with our darkly comical server- although when we started to head out to our first post (mile 5) we were nearly trapped in the parking lot since we neglected to notice that we were on the course and the first half-Mary finishers were heading on home. (Course record, btw- 1:02 half marathon. Jesus.)


We started getting our text updates from the G-Ma's website (Technology is neat!), in addition to our neighborly NE crew of A+D+Crash who were leapfrogging with us as well. FeeJ took to a light pole for a better view ala' "Singin' In the Rain" and after about 20 minutes, the wheelers started in:



And then the "Elite" runners. (Please notice the "mid-strike" footfall. Also? You could have balanced trays on their heads. Almost no bouncing. There were some good one's of the female elites but- get this- they were too fast)

Working with the Ginger's, (and grateful the rain dissipated) we made our way to mile 12 to park and watch. The racers, for the most part, were still ebullient but you could see the fatigue on their faces. By this point, we started recognizing racers from earlier and were able to better identify pace groups. (Although finding Moda...I mean if she hadn't sought us out I'd have missed her entirely) One of my favorite parts was checking out the different race costumes*, identifying footwear (several Veeb sightings) and just...clapping for everybody. Because everyone deserved a clap. Everyone.

*My favorite race t-shirt slogans included: "I shaved my balls for this?!?", "Running Sucks", and lastly "Running is GOOD for you...and your fat ass". Other race garb spanned the gamut from homemade hand-lettered "Marathon Virgin!" to silkscreened commemorative t-shirts with the picture of a deceased loved one. And then there were the "costumes"...tu-tu's, a guy dressed up like a rubber duck, a guy we nicknamed "running Jesus", and...and this guy. I'll be honest...I didn't like him too much:

(Later that night, Moda said the dude had an obnoxious habit of running off the course to have a pee in the woods before returning)

FeeJ and I then started to head back to Downtown Duluth to meet up with the rest of our crew/crew-dog and it was while stuck in traffic I received the worrisome text from 'Lis that said "Mile 16 and she's hurting". Great. And our next planned station wasn't until mile 25 or so. We eventually met with the Cap'n D et.al and made the walk from around mile 23 through downtown proper. While proudly wearing our Mo-Mer hankies, we were able to view first hand the last few miles...and the effects it had on the racers. (This, to me, was the most fascinating)

Gone were the smiles and ebullience. At this point you could tell that people were digging deep, or at least praying that the end was near. They were walking. There were people barefoot. (My favorite? The guy that smacked the mile marker with his shoes. Second only to the dude who looked like he was sooooo close to tossing his cookies) There were...bloody nipples. (WHY WEAR WHITE!?!? WHY?!?!?!?!)

But we kept cheering. We kept screaming. And the crowds...they kept following (We also noticed folks who'd been stationed and apparently leap-frogging like we did) In fact, the outpouring of support was infectious and effusive. And even though I was freezing balls (44 degrees? In June? Really?) I kept clapping and screaming until my hands went numb.

(Pictured- The truth)

And yet here I was, still worried about the Mo. We finally made it to a spot by the DECC center around mile 26 or so and waited. I finally got the text that she crossed mile 25 and we continued to clap and yell for the runners- many of whom looked like they made the worst decision in their lives. And then one woman...one woman re-affirmed that when she came "air-pulling" toward the group of us...and the families and children that surrounded us. And that affirmation came out in a primal and lusty cry!!!

(Pictured: Primal Lust. And Lactic acid. And blisters)

"THIS IS THE WORST FUCKING THING EVER!!!"

Well...with that hearty endorsement in mind, let me hustle on out and sign up for one! We milled over to the finish area and waited until we heard her name announced. (At this point, I received a flurry of text messages from the Bean, who was watching the live video stream from home, asking if he was seeing her correctly)

And man...you have never seen a flurry of emotion pass across somebodies face as much as a marathon finisher. The laughing melts into intense sobbing, back to amazement, to pain, to laughing and all smiles.

Like this:

While she limped off to pick up her gear ("This is bullshit. WHY are they making the race finishers walk another block to get their crap?!?!) I took a few minutes to soak it all in. And it wasn't pretty. In fact, it was almost like a trauma center. A little harrowing too, since they don't let you walk in with the finishers to get their stuff. We waited a tick longer until she came out (more smiles, more tears, more worry that she lost a toenail...which was only a pretty agitated blister) We walk/carried her a few blocks away until we were picked up by Dawn and Melbus and headed to grab some food at a restaurant that wasn't bursting with racers before heading back to the campsite proper for a well deserved party. (Or in Moda's case, limping to bed and passing out at 8:45.)

So I've volunteered at a water stop. I've hung out next to race/course marshall's at full-marathons. And this'll be technically the 2nd time I've crewed for Mo during a run. But I'm stone-cold serious when I tell you that you should think about attending a marathon and following the course of the run from stem to stern. It's a powerful thing to see people-from the "Elite" runners all the way to 1st timers who just want to finish (the last place finisher came in just over 7 hours.) and how they evolve/devolve as the joy and energy is slowly replaced, mile by mile, with gritted teeth. Pain. Focus. Resolve. Just to say you ran 26.2 miles. I guarantee...the racers will appreciate it from the bottom of their medallioned hearts.

Replace my Central A/C

Sorry. I know I have catching up to do on my stories, but it is Summer, my time and funds are limited, and I'm querying the universe to see if anyone has any suggestions/recommendations before I put actual leg-work into getting this thing fixed/replaced/bid on.

Okay, so most of you know I biffed when playing with the tiller in the backyard last month and what you see above is the result of my incompetence. The tiller, a minute after I started it, "kicked" up and banged that lil' lower corner. Freon proceeded to blow out like a cartoon steam whistle, and when it finally stopped? I couldn't really look inside to see what exactly was wrong. It seemed like a small hole, and (what I was secretly hoping) a small fix that my Utility company would be able to rectify. (I am, as you know, on the Service Plus plan. Ahem. <--Fancy Pants McGhee)

Anyway, after the record-setting heat and the fact that I was put on a wait list for the repair I ended up purchasing a window unit in the interim to make sure that at least my 2nd floor stayed marginally cool when it gets dirty hot this summer, and waited sweatily until the repair person showed up with their diagnosis. I had a show on repair day, so I told them what the issue was and tasked my roommate with taking meticulous notes to let me know what the issue/fix was for when I got home. (He's really, really good at that sort of thing) And the news, it turned out, seemed pretty bad.

So I'm listing the issues/repairs below, and I have to tell you- I think it's kind of bunk. At least, I have a hard time believing it. The bottom line, per the dude, was that it's irreparable. My thought was, at best, someone could replace the copper tube and replace the freon and away we go. Worst case, I find a similar model, chuck the old one, plug the (used) replacement in, away we go. Apparently, that isn't the case. And from the people I've spoken to- Both people who know a/c and other friends? It seems weird that they'd say that it can't be fixed. So HERE'S WHERE I'D LIKE YOUR HELP pleeeease:

(Notes were taken by my roommate. I've made comments/questions next to the bulleted list in italics)

The repair record card said: Coil Cannot Be repaired, Need New A/C (Ooookay...why? )

The Bean's notes, based on the dude who inspected it:
-Repair not possible, and if someone says they can do it, they're fools. (S#it. I pity fools)
- Replace outside "RZZ" possible with NEW "RZZ" - NOT old, or used equipment. (Wait, so then I can just replace the parts and it can be repaired? I'm confused)
- OR replace the inside/outside w/"R410A" (Wait...what about the hole?)

DIAGRAM'd!!! "Outside" hardware means the a/c unit, "Inside" is the thing that it connects to, that's built into the furnace.

OUTSIDE HARDWARE<---CONNECTING HARDWARE---> INSIDE HARDWARE
"RZZ" <-----MUST BE COMPATIBLE WITH WHAT'S INSIDE---> "RZZ"
(Apparently, my 10 year old central a/c is now obsolete. Why? Oh. R410A)
"R410A"<----IN SHORT, THE MODELS MUST MATCH---> "R410A"

(So then it's just a parts issue. Right? Why should I replace this again? Why are they fools? Confused Copernicus!)

Repair person's closing thoughts:

-Shop anywhere you want for new hardware, including CenterPoint

-Repair theoretically possible, but would contaminate the system sooner or later. (What the s#it does that even mean? My web research shows contamination to be a microbe or dust problem for folks with allergies. WTF does this mean? OUTBREAK?!?!?

So there is my issue in a nutshell. If you've clicked on this link via FB to see my a/c issue, and aren't a family member, and have something constructive or beneficial to say? You have my deepest thanks. Stay frosty, readers...come August I'm gonna be a sweaty beast.

-

What to tell? Much...

Sorry, sorry...my bad. I know it's been a few weeks but there's been a metric crap ton on the Mikey front over the last few weeks. I had promised blogs-a-plenty but these last two weeks have been a jumble of activities and it's hard for me to parse them down. I'll frame these as individual blaugs eventually, but to understand where I'm coming from...a few nibblers:

-New jobbed! Yup. This is in and of itself the biggest piece of news. I'm QA'ing at an online vehicular diagnosticing company and finally entering the world of (permanent) gainful employment.

-Grandma'ed! Moda ran her first full Mary last weekend up in the Duluth area. Not only is this an impressive feat for her, there were some hilarious shenanigans over the weekend.

-Cabin'd! Mama-san and I headed up to da lake to get the trailer unpacked and have a mow. On the way back, we discussed in "real" terms what this could mean by way of getting a new, actual livable cabin in place of the shack etc. (I'm confirming this...since she does read this thing...and saying to cyber-ville that if we had a livable cabin- That is to say something with working indoor plumbing/shower/kitchen/sleeping area and a dock that could easily be rolled in place? I'd probably go up twice-monthly during the summer months. No lie.)

-Races! I'm on the fence about frassin' about this one. The "Boom" is coming up and I'm still wondering if I wanna do it. It's practically in my back yard. Cheap. And I've been training on the harder parts of the route for the last month so working the hill and riding it down isn't a worrisome issue. In other news, I'm floating comfortably around my target weight of 180 or so and am wearing other summer shorts.

-Garden!!! We're working with the scapes tonight, kids! Garlic curly-cue goodness! I have NOTHING by way of new plantings but hopefully will change that this weekend when I put up the bun-bun proof fence.

-Closed/Open! I closed the "Angry" dude play, which was mildly sad. (It was a real pleasure working with everyone of those guys) HowEVER I auditioned for a Fringe show and got in (pip) so there'll be more theater-frass aplenty after the fourth of July.

How about that? There's other frass a-brewing in the coming summer months- Finishing the landscaping project as well as indoor projects (My roommate is going to be gone for a week and a half...ergo, I'm throwing a party) Tubin' trips down the Cannon, the desperate need for a new Central A/C, and getting acclimated to my new routine at the new job.

Expect more to follow. If you're here, glad you stuck around.

Movie Review: "X-Men: First Class"

Fair warning...I'm going to spoil the shit out of this movie.

(sighs) I had a long drawn out opening here. I'm skipping it because if you're reading this you've either seen the 4 other films in the X-Men movie franchise or have some familiarity with the source material. In telling you that I'm a nerd/geek, I should probably qualify it by also saying I'm not some dipshit who'll blindly walk into a franchise movie. I can weigh comic/sci-fi films on my very own, make informed decisions based on reviews, gut-feelings, and whether or not I care. (I'm also very forgiving.) This is why I can watch "Daredevil" or "Superman Returns" knowing they might not be great but appreciate them for what they are. And avoid the latest "Pirates" franchise money grabber or "Elektra" outright. Or take "Batman and Robin" out of my VCR, take a crap in the case, duct tape it shut, and put it in the overnight bin at Hollywood Video with a post-it note that says "You're Welcome" on it. Might've happened.

Anyway, I own X3 and Wolverine which are the dogs/red-headed stepchildren of the franchise because of my OCD on owning full franchise runs on DVD (something I'm loosening up on as I get older) and because I can still find the love in them. It's there, buried in shitty scripts and pacing...ego projects coughcoughHughJackmancoughcough (Okay, quick rant...you're well built, Hugh. We get it. But please don't be a McConnaudouche and be shirtless in EVERY movie, kay? It's "The Prestige" for pities sake. Victorian London. And you HAVE to have a shirtless scene in it? You're built like a frickin' truck, not a sleight-of-hand master. Ugh. End. Rant)

Okay...

Plot synopsis- The US gov't enlists help of mutants to stem the tide of the Red Menace during the Cuban Missile crisis. Kevin Bacon, a degree beside himself, wants World War 3. Hijinks ensue.

So I had some reservations going into this one. A friend of mine said "I get tired of 'prequels'...why can't they up and do the first story first and build from there?" Fair enough. He's in the business and understands that blockbuster summer movies typically pull a "Star Wars" to gauge fan interest FIRST before bleeding the property dry by turning around 4 films into a series to do an "origin" story. And I think that was my initial reservation, coupled with the fact that we already know where this story is going. Like "Titanic" with Mutants but sans a nekkid Kate Winslet.

That said, I like the director's body of work ("Stardust" is a gem, btw. And if you haven't seen "Layer Cake", shame on you.) and the leads were cast well enough to give it a chance. ALSO, there's the fact that I personally think it's cool that they're now taking these huge studio genre films and making them into period pieces. (I have high hopes for you, "Captain America")

I guess...well...with "X-Men: First Class"? I got kind of bored. Had a "Third Class" experience, if you will. See...

I "get" what they were trying to do. Really. Give it that swinging 60's James Bond vibe. And I "think" they were trying to piece it all in to the 1st three X-Men movies for continuities sake. Not just gentle winks and nudges to the audience and fans, but really say "This is where THEY started. Remember? Remember? We got the metal mover. The mentalist. The blue lady! It's like the same movie in 1961!" And they wanted us to buy into it.

Except- I'm not gonna toss continuity aside for the sake of my own enjoyment here. If you want to keep continuity and to be still be groundbreaking? Do your homework better. Or make the delineations clear enough for widespread enjoyment to a larger audience base and not to people like me who've seen the first few "X" movies a few times...enough to have more questions and head scratching WTF moments walking out that most people who've NEVER seen them might-not-have.

For example: They take the time to make a nearly shot-for-shot reference to the beginning of the first "X-Men" in the concentration camp to start the story. Then, they have not one but TWO magical cameo's in the form of the "older" Mystique and by Mr. Jackman. (In, IMO, the best use of a character throwback and F-Bomb in a PG-13 film) We have the Blackbird. We have a blue furry beast. Magneto and how he got his name and helmet. The same makeup on Mystique. And hey, isn't that African-American Girl when Xavier uses Cerebro...doesn't she have white hair? Isn't that Storm? There's just so much that puts it in the exact same universe as the first three movies. It stands to reason, no...it makes sense that THAT is what they were going for.

So then if we know Prof. X winds up in a wheelchair (but he's shown walking at different points in 2 of the previous franchise films...and actually still buddies with Magneto when they're older like at the start of "X3") Then why the shit did they decide to end it like they did? He winds up paralyzed and still with hair while Magneto and the rest of the bad guys saunter off? Why not make him go bald the first time he uses Cerebro? (Although, the joke they placed in it's stead "Can we shave your head?"/"No." was good) And (sideways tangent) why the shit is Moira MacTaggert...who is so very-very Scottish in the comics and "X3"- AND played by Brit Rose Byrne...why is she American? So that she can be CIA? I just...what?

Other nitpicks: Magneto says to Mystique that he likes his women older when she's trying to seduce him (insert cameo by Ms. Romijn) and then when she turns back into her "normal" form he then decides to bed her? That takes their relationship to a different level in the other films? (Once you go blue, you can never go...I don't know) And really, reeeeeeeally? Don't patronize me. Like, please don't make me feel like an enormous dipshit. Well how did they do this? When the caption says "Moscow, USSR" and yup...it's indeed a snowy day in the Kremlin. Then you go back and show the exact same shot? You don't NEED to have the gawdamn caption say "Moscow, USSR". We are stupid, we audiences. But I think you didn't lose us in 5 minutes.

And I've read that everyone is fawning over the Bacon. Except I kind of thought he made it a little too gleefully evil. It worked at the beginning when he was goading young Magneto, but instead of getting cold and "evil" he just got more gleeful and cackle-y. (Props, though, for a really awesome death scene) Sebastian Shaw is supposed to be one smooth Mo-Fo...Kevin Bacon acted like he didn't know what he was supposed to be doing in a super-hero movie.

And then there is Emma Frost. Miz Jones...I mean really? You cast a Victoria's Secret Mannequin? She. Sucks. And f#ck it if I HATE HATE HATE the "crystal" power she has. Just make her a mind reader/f#cker and be done with it. Or cast a piece of balsa wood. You'd get a better actor. Lastly...let's not ride the "Proud to be a Mutant" mantra into the ground. It sounds...lame. Like...we get it. A dramatic close-up of a character saying the phrase doesn't make it powerful. Actually, when you've been trying to build it up until this point? It kind of does the opposite.

Did I like it? Meh. Maybe enough to own it as a bookend to the rest of the X-Men films I own. I think Fassbender is great. McAvoy does good work. (Although do we always need the visual cue of "touching your temple" when you're "reading minds"? Just read the stupid minds. You have an awesome power. Probably the best power. And you need to make constipated migraine face every time? Guh) I think that if you just had a film of the two of them in the swinging sixties, getting into shenanigans or chasing Nazi's in Argentina? That, my friends, would be an EXCELLENT film.

Instead we get a clunky, mildly uneven entry into the series that proves the following: It's a better film than X-3 and Wolverine put together. But unfortunately, that ain't saying much.

2/4 stars. And it gets that many only because of a great cameo and reasonably well- paced direction and action sequences.

You know what you don't do?

(pictured- The author post-recovery run on the record-setting hottest day of 2011. I went early to beat the heat but still lost a 4 pints of water. It was like my own mini-Badwater marathon out there! And you know somethi...fahk. I am anti-photogenic. Ugh...)

DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK!!! What? You think that because the race is over and my wistful memories and the painful exertion that went into the half-Mary was the end of running jibba-jabba? No, No, No, my friends. I have a new toy to play with that you see there dangling out of my mouth like a slobbery tennis ball being handed to you by a golden retriever. I found it in the locker room at work and after turning it in to the lost and found , I waited a month (or until my last day on the job if it matters) before inquiring if anyone had claimed it. To be fair, I'd have walked off with it as soon as I found it but Moda made mention that it's bad race karma to abscond with someone else's running tool. (And it had also been pointed out to me that the karma worked when I twisted my ankle during the run and didn't up and break my foot. I'm just sayin'...) So, when no one claimed it?

Yoink.

So now I have a Garmin and outside of the fact that it's supposed to tell me my pace and distance, I can't figure the dumb thing out. So I now own the equivalent of an expensive digital watch on my wrist. Still...I wanted to get used to wearing it. And on my little 4-5 mile putter, it did give me an idea of how long I was going to be out in the wretched heat and when to "turn it up" so I could haul-ass home before it hit 100 degrees. Nothing says nothing like a training recovery run that involves blood, swass, and tears...

(Pictured: Swass)


Anyway, I'm gonna start frassin about the back yard but I still need to figure out a mulch solution (although during the Half-Mary we did see the tree chippings in an enORMOUS pile off of the Plymouth avenue bridge...the remnants of the tornadoes from a few weeks back) and also a plan as to what I'm planting and where. (I'm having a tough time "imagining" what the layout is going to be. I might solicit your help, readers) First and foremost is getting the stupid whirligigs blown off the weed barrier so that they don't take root or turn into a nesting ground for the stupid boxelder bugs that permeate my home when I neglect to do so.

(Remember when you were a kid and you'd watch them twirl and whirl like little helicopters and it was SO much fun? Yeah. I don't either)

It also means keeping them out of my gutters, garden, and flower/herb pots. 2 years ago I forgot to clear them out and they started growing in my gutters that were uncovered and choked out my flowers and herbs like they were in a mixed-martial arts match. It was a sad growing season in 2009...just sayin. Moreover, they actually do provide the nesting materials for the bugs and since I'm not hosting a insectoid orgy I'm getting outside and blowing that crap away from the huis.

(Pictured: It's always a good idea to respect your elders...unless they're getting their groove on next to the outside dryer vent.)


Oh. I'll also be posting my "X-Men: First Class" review soon. Fair warning, it's not what you'd probably expect from this nerd.

Race day Re-Cap

Pictured- The author's well worn Lunar-Fly's. After hundred's of miles of minimalist training I think it's safe to retire them to a nice senior community in Florida.

Whew. I'd love to bend your ear with a mile-for-mile play-by-play but I'm still pretty tired and living off of the residual memory of how it went yesterday- In addition to the outpouring of support of Moda, D-Gangs, D+A and Crash, as well as surprise sightings/appearances of Balcolm-In-The-Middle, Matthus, and bless her heart...the original sporting cheerleader, Mom.



In brief-

After setting out my gear and a fitful night's sleep, I was up and biking to the Depot around 5:30 am after a breakfast of 1 gallon of water and two cups of java. We met, stretched a little, frassed, and eventually meandered over to the start. I was introduced to FeeJ's buddy Ryan and we milled about on the street waiting for a Port-a-John and getting anxious listening to the announcer do the pre-start countdown...which seemed closer than would allow us to actually get a chance to get to pee.

Moda miraculously found us in the throngs, we waited and waited until the buzzer announced the start and waited some more. (A fellow runner told me not to worry. As soon as the buzzer yelped the lines would dissipate to free us up to pee. And they did. And thank you, miss.)

FeeJ and her Garmin were great for mellowing me out from the get-go (my instinct being to catch up with the crowd...and to stop dancing to N-Sync's "Bye-Bye-Bye") and keeping a steady pace for the first few miles. My only running goals (while, you know, actually "running" ) were not to get too ahead of myself speed-wise, and to hopefully "open'er up" around mile 10 if I was feeling good. We had some Coach-Moda and D-Gang sightings on the first few miles with Moda playing Drill Sergeant during my more juvenile race-moments of air-drumming during "Stone-in-Love" ("IF YOU HAVE ENOUGH ENERGY TO AIR-GUITAR, YOU SHOULD BE RUNNING FASTER!")

Duly noted.

After doubling back across the Stone-Arch (and memory of how last year I was starting to "feel" it.) we hit the hills (soundtrack-"Run, Run Away"). I kept up with double-fisting the water and Powerade, making sure to knock back the "Ade" FIRST then warsh it down with water. I skipped the GU and kept the beat with my mix and tried to just keep moving forward. Short steps. Upright posture. By mile 8 or 9 (I think) I was feeling fine on the uphills and doing my best to power-down the downs then level-off. I had enough in my tank. And I actually felt okay.

FeeJ and I parted ways a little bit before the turnaround back to the "G", and while I had hoped to keep with my plan of putting on speed for the last 3 miles I had mis-read the mile marker and slowed down thinking there were really 5 miles left (whoops) when it was more like 2.5. And then when I was increasing my speed on a particular downhill, I was weaving between runners when I caught a pothole which twisted my ankle in and I had to do the quick 10 second assessment (Is it broken? Can I put weight on it?) My back was frassy, but I figured at least my engines were moving me forward. And holy crap did it scare me.

My coaches had been hollering encouragement from the sides of the roads for the last few, but I'd be lying if I said I was actually listening. Outside of confirming with Moda there was only a mile or so left, I plugged back in ("Roll with the Changes") and figured I should power on through to the end. My breathing was still okay and there wasn't any gorge coming back up under the bridge heading toward the finish so when I saw the balloons and crap I figured I should just see how fast I could go, consistently, to finish.

And no shit, I finished in 2:08. Nearly 30 minutes off of my time from last year. I didn't even have tunnel vision. For her part, as proud as she was and proud as I was that she came out to cheer? Mother did not hug her sweaty second-born. For my part, I kept it together long enough to run (ha!) back to the finish-line and cheer on my friend FeeJ. Good job, love. Tremendous job for someone who hadn't ran a mile one year ago.

And now, Moda is already telling me I should try shaving off time to get sub-2 with my next run. I haven't decided if the Red, White, and Boom will be the next race (It's tropically prohibitive in MN in July.) but maybe, just maybe I'll try it for the Monster Dash?

God knows I'm wearing my hypocrisy quite well. ("This is the first and LAST half I'm doing! Time to cross THIS off the Bucket List...LOL!" Mikey, circa 2010)

But maybe I can do that. Moda, Gangs, et.al have made me think about things while running that I've been able to practically apply to both my training and race day: Use what's in the tank and leave it on the course, and push yourself. I think it was my rationale that I'd try and run the last 5K at a faster tempo that I figured that maybe I wasn't pushing my self as hard as I could. I could have just plodded out the half and finished this year. And been done. Hey. Another medal and wicker shirt. But who was stopping me. I wasn't injured. I was (thankfully) not broken from that pot-hole. The only thing keeping me from getting up those hills would have been me. And I was all like..."Fuck those hills." No really. In my brain, I couldn't respond to my friends because I was making wine under my feet. With the hills. Wine-Hill-Fucking. Whatever makes your PR, right? Shut it.

And thanks for humoring me these last few weeks. I can't promise that it'll end with this race. Shoot...I can't even post a gardening blog until the whirli-gigs stop falling. And I hope that maybe you'll see that any/everyone can start this insanity.


Race Day Raiment. Not only was I color coordinated like a Chaplin movie, but Under-Armour was my unofficial race day sponsor....down to the wrist-bands. Note "hankerchief head-band of power".

Pre-race happiness. At the Depot, and before the pain, 6/5/11



Motivational phrases at the starting line.

The line of runners, along W. River Parkway on race day- 6/5/11


Finishing line. I won't lie...last year they had a marching band playing. And I really, REALLY wanted the marching band back.


There were 3-4 things I wanted for this race. Remember? Strong finish, Do not stop to walk, disregard the PR and run my own race. Oh, and be standing and smiling at the end. The Guiness...well that was another charitable act on behalf of some spectators. Thank you for the carbs and kindness.

Mama called them my MAGIC shoes...(Race day)

Pictured: "Team Awesome"- Moda, Cap'n Dawn, Matthus, and some dude wearing a chopped up Spider-Man T-shirt in the interest of standing out and looking cool. Also note the MP3 player, slowly on it's way to working loose and being held for the remainder of the run. (ps- This was about mile 2 or so. So we're still pretty fresh and smiley) From the Mpls Half-Marathon 2010.


Well coming up on another half-Mary this Sunday and I've been getting more and more excited. Moda, Feej, and I will be carbing up on Friday. Packet Pick-Up will be on Saturday. And I'll be up and biking to the starting line bright and stupidly early on Sunday. Hooray!

My propensity for waxing nostalgic notwithstanding, I gotta say that it feels (this time around anyway) pretty chill going in. What I mean is, last year around this time I was a little nervous and not what you'd call the "Acme of Anticipation". Kind of the opposite, actually. And what happened? It wasn't what you'd call "calamitous"...(Oh...was it another bullet list you wanted?) Well, to recap before the race...

-I had only been "Training" training for a little over 2 months, with my longest run up until that point having been an 8-9 mile trail trot that I half-walked.

-The longest race I'd completed was the GIG 10K.

-Papa wanted himself a GOOD night sleep, so on top of the pre-race carbing and beers he made sure to put back a few V and T's.

-Papa ate himself a nice big breakfast and over a gallon of water. Then shotgunned another beer for some extra carbs.

-And we biked in the chilly morning over to the Depot SUPER early. Papa stretched and bitched and frassed and finally made two potty stops before the race began.

As for the race itself? Well the 1st four miles or so were okay. A+D were there to cheer. At mile 3 I was all flexing my arms for the friends I saw and just trying to keep pace with my group. By mile 5 Moda had powered on. By mile 6 I thought "This is nearly a 10K distance. I feel like I'm going soooo far". Also, this is where some of the half-marathoners were already powering back) By mile 7-8 I had already started (mostly) walking and having trouble taking deep breaths. By mile 12-13 I was hallucinating that non-existent friends were cheering me on and regretting the GU packet I swiped at the last water stop. (My bottle you see in the picture above? Bone dry)

I nearly crawled over the finish line. (I was happy I didn't puke.) I could barely stand and found myself quietly resentful that we had decided to bike there in the first place. The only things that made it worthwhile (besides sitting down) was the applause from some people who saw us at the Bulldog afterwards and recognized that we had just ran the race...and the dumb heavy-ass medal. (BTW- I finished in a little over 2:40, I think) And while they weren't bleeding...it certainly felt like someone had given me a titty twister. Ouch.

So why've I flipped? I don't know. I had an analogy in mind regarding people who jump out of an airplane for the first time and are scared but who then love subsequent jumps. So it's kiiind of like that? There's the prep. We've put up some heavy miles over the last year or so. I've logged quite a few more 12+ milers outside now and have actually ran them versus stopping to puke/walk. I've felt better on hills. We've run parts of the course again during training. I've been rocking the minimalist shoes and Vibrams. I've got some very good friends running it (for the first time. We'll have many high-fives to trade, Feej) And as opposed to last year with the dreaded fatalist mindset of "I just want to finish" I have a few new ones I've adopted for this year:

"I want to run the whole course and not walk"
"I'm not trippin' about my PR, but will be happy to finish sub-2:25 or 2:20" (I have a matinee, you see)
"I want to finish strong"
"I'm running my own race for me"

Pretty straight forward. I'm really digging on the Half-Mary's. I read an article in RW that they've been picking up momentum as the "challenging race of choice" for people who are on the fence about running a marathon or just want to get their toes wet in the running world. And who knows, maybe I'll eventually nut-up and try a full-Mary. (Gods know I'm proud/excited/worried for and about Moda doing Gramma's Mary the following weekend) It's just nice to know I have the option. Nicer still to know that in my head, I'd like to keep doing long-runs on the weekend with buddies around the nabe, around the lakes...just in case there's a half-Mary lurking around this summer we wanna jump into. Ha-HA!

So I'm hoping (fingers-crossed...barring an accident or injury) that the following picture you see below? The one I'll ask to take post-race this year? That'll be me, except standing up and smiling. Not squatting and grimacing in pain.



ps- I lied. There was a 3rd thing that made the run worthwhile and I would be remiss to forget to mention it: The people who come out to cheer. Last year I might've veered off course or knocked someone out of a wheelchair so I didn't have to run anymore if it wasn't for the people cheering us on and holding signs. Race fans improve the morale of the runners (IMO) exorbitantly, and I'd go so far as to say we really depend on that energy when we're digging deep. So if you're downtown this Sunday in the early a.m. Bring a chair, cop a squat, and clap yer hands. You'll have thousands of people grateful that you did.

Rock N' RUN!

(Skip to the end if you just can't stop the music. This is mainly for my mom who complains of blog lenghth. No need to comment, Ma. This disclaimer is solely here to help you out!)

From the time I first started running, I've spent an ungodly amount of time in my head. And friends, this can be a terrible, terrible place to reside. I had one crazy summer in 1997 or so where I had this...thing...this am/fm thing that was the size of a pair of earmuffs sporting an antenna that I'd wear running my "Uptown Loop" from Lake to Franklin and back again. And since this was back in 1997 or so, "Tubthumpin" was on continuous loop. As was Alanis Morrisette. No good. And so when my sweaty melon finally shorted it out? I haven't used music during runs since.

Since my jaunts were usually 30 minute jobbies, I'd barely have enough time to plot world-domination much less what I was having for dinner so owning whatever the newest fangled music-listening device that was prevalent at the time wasn't a high priority to me. Now fast-Forward to last year when we started to put up 1-2 hour training runs. This takes "Inside Mikey Head-Time" to torturous water-boarded levels. Enter the kindness of my techonologically savvy friends to help me understand the (at the time already) outdated concept of: The MP3 player.

FeeJ was kind enough to give me her old model and Moda threw a bunch of tunes on it that she already had saved on her computer. So finally, I was able to plug in and tune out to some rockin' tunage. And while this was a fun period of adjustment for me and I no longer had to imagine what like would be like if I was filthy rich (A frequent fantasy while running), there were a few issues that I took with the technology. Minor quibbles, really.

First off:

-It was pink. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all, but yeah. No. Mikey No Pinkalicious.

-I stretched the arm strap so it wouldn't stay on, so I had to carry it in my hand. (Probably because of my BIG MUSCLES!) Plus my fat fumbly fingers couldn't skip songs very well. See the next bullet.

-While there was plenty of Michael Jackson (Thanks dear!) and Beyonce' et.al. which were upbeat and peppy? There'd occasionally be some of "FeeJ's Favorites" on there as well...namely, Jason Mraz. I have nothing personal against Mr. Mraz or his music, but after having the aforementioned Michael Jackson beats dropped, his music tends to acts like a drag parachute.

And that's the thing. Music and the beat, it's said, quickens your pace a bit. Adds to your energy. I can get behind that. When Moda's pa Panja hooked me up with an Ipod + clip last summer to replace the awkward MP3 (Lookit Mikey getting all the tech handouts!) and she loaded it up with her distance training mix (which was much more consistently peppy and beat-heavy. Nary a Dolly Parton song to be found), I had many months on my own to try and calculate/imagine what my personal race soundtrack would be. (Sorry, love. I'm not besmerching your mix. The beats got me through nearly 100's of runs)

So today, (After I finally launched into the 21st century and got an Itunes account of my own) I'm sharing the Mikey Mega-Run Mix Playlist. (Truncated version 1.0) For some reason I thought it'd be full of 80's montage power ballads (And they're on there, oh yes), but I ended up with an eclectic array that I've found to be encouraging on my long runs, and strangely enough...mildly inspirational? As long as I don't wind myself during the race playing air drums during "Sister Christian" or trying to sing along. Ahem. Feel free to bogart some of the titles for yourselves...

(An * indicates a song that I can't help but listen to twice. This isn't the full list, mind you. I put about 2.5 hours worth of music on there which is...I hope...enough time to finish the Half-Mary without doubling back through the playlist. I even categorized them.)

YOU WILL RUN. YOU WILL RUN FAR AND FAST AND IT IS GLORIOUS. DROP A BEAT!

Montage Music/80's
- "Live to Win" (Paul Stanley) Doi. If you've seen the MMPORG "South Park"...you'll know. Goofy.
- "Eye of the Tiger"/"Burning Hearts" (Survivor) You will beat up Russians.
- "Sister Christian" *(Night Ranger) Yeah. Twice. It rules.
- "Doctor Feelgood" (The motherlovin CRUE)

Mike's music tastes are stuck in High School between 1989-1993
- "Poison" (Bel Biv Davoe)
- "I'm gonna Knock You Out" (LL Cool J)
- "Good Vibrations" (Marky Mark mit der Funky Bunch)
- "Gonna Make You Sweat" (C+C Music Factory)
- "I've got the Power" (Snap! To be fair, I envision the movie "The Perfect Weapon" when I hear this)
- "Freedom-90" (George Michael. I have fond...fond memories of this song. My earliest workouts in my parents basement used to consist of running in place, doing jumping jacks and push-ups, all while watching "MTV". And this video? Mega Hot to a 15 year old. Get out of the tub, Ms. Evangelista. Please?)
- "Roam" * (B-52's. Reminds me of mall cruising Brookdale and Orange Julius)

Michael Jackson
- "Beat It", "Thriller", "The Way You Make Me Feel", "Bad". I should mention my Janet hold out is "If"...b/c it's great. And yeah. MJ. 'Nuff Said.

Mo-ldovers from the MP3 days
- "All the Single Ladies" * (Beyonce') What? I'll cut you.
- "My First Mistake" * (Jellyfish)
- "Low" (T-Pain) "Apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur...The whole club was like: 'Hey, that fat chick hates cardio and animals'!" (Not my quote, fyi)
- "Buttons" (Pussy Cat Dolls feat. Snoop-dogg) I'll explain this later.
- "I'm going on"/"Run" (Gnarles Barkley) Awesome...awesome running songs.

Goofy WTF'ers
- "I'm Awesome" (Spose) Look...don't knock it until you've worked out to it.
- "Thong Song" (Sisqo) Like "Buttons"? When you need to dig deep? Really really deep? And it's, like, mile 10 or so? You could do worse than songs dealing with women getting undressed. IJS.
- "Calling Baton Rouge" *(Garth Brooks) STOP WITH YOUR JUDGEMENT!

Weight, Weight...don't tell me...

Or, "Confessions of a banana-rexic"...Full disclaimer friends- This week, the old blog is going to be almost solely dedicated to running shit. The Mpls. Half-Marathon is coming up in less than a week and it's got me mooooore than excited. Also, this will probably be yet another devisive posts. As always, consult a doctor or dietician before engaging in any drastic changes in your diet or you could DIE! Remember, this worked for me- not you. Annnnnnd speaking of dieticians...)

So on the bulletin board at the gym, they have apparently hired themselves a dietician. She's pretty. Fit. Blonde. Sunkissed (all of this I surmised by her photo.) She has the appropriate pedigree (Master's in Biology, Foodology, Physiology or what have you.) She even included below her biography/introduction page her favorite recipe for "healthy" waffles... and smoothies.

And I. Don't. Trust her.

I mean, is it just me or would you trust Pamela Anderson to tell you what to eat, or Baron Vladimir Harkonnen?
Pictured: A guy that knows his sandwiches. Incidentally, this was found on a website titled "Fat Bad Guys". Thought I'd share.

I'm kidding, of course. I think that dieticians and personal trainers both are integral to adopting a safe and healthy lifestyle impetus. I've just never had much use for either, you know? I mean, frassing to friends and family about how I already know I eat healthy, I substitute whatever for whatever is fat free...I don't know. I guess I figured I already knew how to eat healthy. What I didn't figure is that I was such a damn poser about it.

Look. I don't mean to brag, but I've lost some weight. It's true. The other day before I engaged in a big lawn project I started looking for a pair of my grubby jeans. I ended up grabbing some from the musty pile of discards in the basement...only realizing that they weren't my torn up grubbies from the thrift store but my old "good" Gap jeans.

That I haven't been able to wear since before the cruise in 2008


Pictured- 34 X 30's being held up by a belt. And before you roll your eyes and tell me I'm flexing, you up and use an edger tiller for 4 hours and try mulching up a 4x3 section of new garden and see if you aren't exhaus...and I've been working pretty gawdamn hard at the gym...you know what? Forget it. Just...hey, 34 x 30's btw.

And just today, I weighed myself on the Devil-scale at the gym. As much as I hated it for showing a weight that was closer to 200 lbs 3-4 months ago I'm hoping that it isn't pulling my leg this time by saying that my weight was below 180.

For the first time. In over 3 years.

So here is the part where (if you've actually been following along, per normal) I reveal my huge free fitness secret. You can attribute it to running shitty long-distances over the last 3 months or so. Cutting out hard liquor last Fall. Whatever. I think it's mostly getting to the point in my training where I've figured out how to re-direct my terrible relationship with portion sizes and how certain foods affect me physically on a daily basis... and also from the standpoint of what fuel is most useful in helping me train effectively. And it turns out, I realized that I had a lot of what NASA refers to as "Solid Fuel" to use. In part...

1) The banana-rexic thing is a joke Moda and I came up with after I'd been so busy w/work et.al that I showed up for dinner starving because "All I had to eat today was a banana". (Truth) The reality is that I've figured out that I was (again) eating for the sake of eating at proscribed times, caving in to my snacky mentality, over-eating with the mindset that I was "in training", and binge-eating when my budget or time would allow. (Again, justifying a trip to Holy Land or Great Dragon buffet was a good idea to help eat more protein. Riiiight)

So I just stopped doing that. I started by drinking a lot more water and flavored sugar-free soda water in the morning and would just...put off having my breakfast yogurt and banana until closer to 10 am or so. I felt hungry by the time I needed to eat them, and it was close enough to lunch that it didn't make sense to me to snack or eat anything else before noon.

Annnnnnd I kind of went vegetarian. Kind of. Actually, mostly. (editors note: I'll probably bend your ear on another blog regarding how I've changed on this standpoint on this over the last 15 years or so. It's definitely fuel for another story.) Outside of being a good way to get your nutrients and roughage, I found that eating a whole box (sorry Moda) of Morningstar (insert the following: Mini-corn dogs, Buffalo Nugs, Ribs, Spicy Black Bean Burger) was a good way to get my lunch fix out of the way and not feel hungry until dinner. During tech, I'd have some soup and a large piece of crusty bread before hitting the in-house gym and if I was SO hungry I couldn't take it? I'd grab a Clif bar from S.A. and another liter of water. At night, I'd get home tired so I wasn't eating a big meal before bed. Then I'd repeat the routine during the work week.

On weekends I'd cheat, sure. It felt (sort of) uncomfortable eating a big breakfast and I found that I wasn't able to finish the big meals that I used to polish off in a sitting. And I usually wound up full enough to go the rest of the day doing chores/training/projects until dinner. Eater's remorse usually wasn't a factor because I'd try to go into the meal knowing if I demolished half a pizza, I'd wind up feeling like shit.

The biggest piece of my own advice that (I guess) I'd give away is this- It's important to stay hungry mentally and physically. To work on really, really getting the most enjoyment out of meals by holding off on eating them, and not eating it all of it in a sitting. And the trick, the hard part? Is disciplining yourself enough not to give in and gorge when the meal comes around.

2) That whole "solid fuel" joke and part about going vegetarian? Really wasn't all that jokey. Okay, so it's known in running circles that the idea of "carbing up" isn't all that smart to do the day right BEFORE the race. (Giving your body the time to break it down into usable glucose stores for extended running after having eaten a mere 8 hours before race day? Right. It doesn't make much sense. Two days? Gives you enough time to break it down.)

My pre-long race foods the night before are usually roughage heavy or (my favorite)= Sushi. Get a little Omega 3 in there, some rice, and I'm good to go the next morning without feeling too stuffed or acid reflux-y. And post-race? The idea of grease/beer/etc. is almost as nauseating to me as smelling bad milk. (I just...ugh. I want something simple. My tummy just gets messed UP post-distance runs.)

As for the solid fuel line, it's because of a comment that D-Gangs made a few months ago. The way I see it, I had a lot of fuel (extra adipose) wrapped around my waist. A lot. Male-Muffin Top, whatever. So whenever I was on a regular training run and after having a limited calorie daily diet I'd make it so that I was visualizing using "What I Had in the Tank". (And it's GOOD fuel. The chubs-sorry- are a rich source of energy to push you through.)

I didn't do this stupidly, mind you. I knew the 2 days before long runs I needed to carb up and I didn't place myself in the realm of ridiculous by starving myself. (Useless ideology if you ask me. Food tastes too good, and having no energy to run/lift makes the concept of getting stronger/improving PR's invalid.) But yeah. On my 3-6 miles early jaunts I eschewed having toast or a waffle and bread-y things for a banana and loading up on some water. Easy enough. And my energy has been fine.

And I'm down quite a few l.b.esses.

So that's the big secret. Hollywood stars and models need to work out a shit ton and starve themselves. It's true, and it's true. And if you think to the contrary, you're very very wrong. Starve. Themselves. And I'm vain, but not that vain to wanna look like I've been in a slave camp. But I am admittedly vain enough to use the fuel I had on me to push me through the training and feel good physically and in terms of self-image.

Bottom line- eat less. Do more cardio. It's the same formula that's been around for ages.

Movie Review: "Role Models"

"Role Models" (2008) is currently available on DVD and Netflix.

I don't know why I waited so long to check out this movie after I watched it since it turned out to be a lot better than I expected it to be. (Oh wait, yes I do. The trailers made it seem hyper-formulaic, McLovin from "Superbad" looked like he was about to get stuck in a character rut until he grew older and developed a drug-habit, and it had Stifler in it. And that dude bugs. Mind you, I like Paul Rudd but everything he touches does not -in fact- turn to gold)

Two buddies who work for an energy drink company get into trouble and as part of their court-ordered community service wind up acting as mentors to two children who carry baggage of their own. (One, a Larping Social Misfit and the other a sassy boob-obsessed foul mouthed miscreant.) Hijinks ensue, and along the way they all learn something about growing up. And, scene.

Lame premise, right?

It took me a few minutes finding myself laughing at the dialogue (which was funny, without being too glib or dirty) to figure out why I was digging on it so much: David Wain directed it. Doi. So the easy review is if you were in to the off-center comedy of "The State", "Wet Hot American Summer", "Stella", etc. then you'll probably enjoy the heck out of this film.

Paul Rudd still plays deadpan/snarky/sarcastic but it's layered with this world-weariness ("Am I getting too old to do these stupid Bromance Comedies?") and coupled with Sean William Scott- Still playing a motormouth d-bag- (Who again, makes you wonder if it's the 30-something guy who just didn't grow out of the frat party), it works to give a balanced tone throughout the narrative. Likewise, the kids end up being a large part how their characters grow, but they don't ever let them fall back while the big-names take center-stage.

And Oh...oh...Joe LoTruglio...nearly made me wet myself.

A lot of times when film has a tagline of having dialogue that's "largely improvised", I'm left a little skeptical. Done well, you get memorable dialogue and and a top grossing comedy. Done poorly, you get actors who pull a Jimmy Fallon and look at each other like they're waiting to laugh and rambly diatribes that never seem to end. Here, you just have to listen to Jane Lynch give her motivational speeches and admonishing lectures just to see how sublime, effortless, and pointed it can be. (And dear God...so, so funny. Hang out through the credits to watch her "hot dog" bit)

I won't lie. I'd even hazard to say that I'd own this one. It was that funny and repeat viewings would probably open up more opportunities to catch missed laughter.

Or I'm just into the schtick of the guys who did "The State". Either way, a pretty great film.

3/4

PS- Outside of playing "Miri", Elizabeth Banks must be making it a career move to play characters with variations on her first name. Here, we have her as "Beth"...yet again.

Rapture Crapture

Wasn't there something about the end of the world this last weekend? What with the goody-two-shoes being grabbed by an invisible hand and being taken to heaven or something? (It kind of reminded me of the episode of "Six Feet Under" where the woman is driving along and the truck full of inflatable x-rated blow-up dolls loses it's cargo and she gets into an accident watching all the bodies "ascend" into heaven, mistaking it for the rapture. Anyone? Anyone?)

Well it didn't happen, whatever it was. I was kind of hoping for a zombie apocolypse (*). At least that was something I was prepared for.

Pictured: Far too many sharp objects for a person to have laying around and not be used for beheading zombies, or dicing produce. Please note, I was all set to have a party. You know. Bring your own shotgun, canned goods, bottled water, etc. Hole up in the basement. Take out a zombie one at a time as they come down the stairs and enjoy a cheese flight. That sort of thing.

Instead of the rapture, we received a mini-smoting that took the form of a tornado that remarkably didn't come ripping up through the Southern and Western parts of the metro and decided to just touch down whereever it darn-well pleased: Meaning the Northside.

Of COURSE I only found this out as I was leaving the matinee and I received a few frantic voice messages from my mom and later when listening to NPR on my way home and hearing the damage reports. (And yes, once again I found myself in a show during storm season completely oblivious to the weather outside. It was different from the old summers 7-8 years ago where CRPC was pretty much right next to a storm siren so if it went off, we'd stop, then re-state our line and keep going. Now I'm in a black box and we managed to barrel through a 68 minute matinee with a group of sassy seniors and didn't hear boo. And to think we were worried about the musical in the theater next to us being distracting.)

Anyway, I got home for a quick damage assessment and then started to check Facebook for the remainder of the afternoon and evening to see what was the status of my friends who live in North Mipples... only now realizing (due to Facebook) that I have quite a few more buddies on the North side than I thought. Further still, being grateful that other people in the world were throwing their good will and concern into cyber-space, and more over that everyone who responded (and their pets) are all okay. Joplin, MO got f#cked yesterday by their tornadoes, and as always it could have been a lot worse.

Speaking of- I don't have any pics to show you since I didn't have even a knocked over herb pot to show for it. (Really? I think I've experienced at least 8-9 tornado-y severe weather systems in the last 6 years that I've been in my house and nary a ONE decides to knock that decrepit pine tree over onto my s#itty garage? Right. Right. Gratitude, Michael. Please.) Poor FeeJ, however, took some pretty impressive damage to her home and needed some emergency chainsaw action for her tree. This, of course, made me realize that the closest chainsaw I have is in my mom's garage where she currently isn't using it and if it was in MY possession I could have totally been a hero yesterday and lent my services.

Come to think of it...a chainsaw would have tooootally been useful for the zombie apocolypse, doi. Two birds with one stone and all that.


*Zombies have been on my list of unnatural fears since I was 7-8 years old and the concept of death was very scary to me. That and the "Thriller" video running ad nauseum on MTV made me fret every time we drove past a cemetary. I fully expected to see the dead burst forth from the earth and start break-dancing or showing jazz hands.

1 Angry Opening...wait, that sounded bad.

I TOLD You! There is some MAD hackting going on here. Even "Angry". See what I did there?

We're opening tonight, friends. If you're a F'Booker you've see a few of the photo's that I've posted for this monster. Everything about it has been a great, and it's been a pleasure working with the cast. (They are some mighty talented people. And for s#it's sake, it's the first time I've worked with 80% of'em! You want my personal reason I think theater is made of awesome? Okay, so you have your friends/buddies/softball team...whatever. And then you all sit down, stand up, move around, told where to go, and get to create something really, really cool. All together. And then afterwards, you get drunk and tell the same stories from that one show that one time.)

I don't get schmoogly that often over shows, but this one is going to be good. C'mon down and get yerself entertained!

And, you know...it's short. Clips along. Like a Fringe show.

I told you it was a very "Indiana Jones" suit.

Humble Garden Beginnings take 4, er, 1...

The title of today's piece is because I realize that over the last year or so I've been writing repeat blog title's. Not a big deal, but "It's the Day of the Race, Y'all" before the Get in Gear 10K? EXACT same shit I typed last year at the same time. I'm an Uncreative Urkel.

Please note...the following post is very sad:

While it's with some excitement that comes with the Spring planting season, it's also a marked change. Since we humbly started our garden 4 seasons ago (when it was about the size of a door frame)it was done so as a joint venture. Since Moda has finally moved into her new home, she will be embarking on landscaping and gardening tasks of her own tastes and fancies. While we still plan on being "Bi-Coastal" gardeners (if you can count Central Ave and 37th Ave NE as the divider) it does mean a few changes for my routine personally.

I confess that while the property was mine, I was more than happy to sit back and let Moda do the general puttering and maintenence during the planting and harvest season. (To be fair, it wasn't really a case of "I'm gonna sit back and dick around while she's pulling up weeds. I've been the garden expander and mulch/dirt hauler in addition to the expense sharer when it comes to the usual plantings. In addition to the other maintenence and landscaping as well. Hey. Just speaking my piece, fools.)

Anyway, the kerflufflings at her new casa in addition to my roommate being smack in the middle of finals (read: He gets up, plants himself in front of his laptop in the nook, and doesn't excise himself until the late hours) means something new to me, or at least, as new as an experience can be around your home of 6 years: I'm relegated to doing most of this shit all by myself.

I know, I know, "Woe is me" but really it's going to be fodder for a new style of humble beginnings in which you get my gardening skills which tend to lean toward barrelling into things headlong versus the smarter method planned research my S.O. tends to do. It should prove exciting.

Lastly, I've decided to make a few more projects happen. While doing internal repair/design/remodelling typically scares me, landscaping projects are an area where I feel that it only takes a little moxie, muscle, and the werewithal to make your dreams come true. That, and a metric f#ck-ton of cedar mulch.

So in the interest of giving you pictures for those disinclined to read these dumb things: Here is the beginnings of the Great Garden/Landscaping/Bounty extravaganza 2011!

It's like the "Great Muppet Caper", but with foliage!(Stage 1.5: The topmost picture is my front planter. The tulips are all up and happy and ready to die, yet again. Or get eaten by the bun-buns. The marigolds are planted for some consistent color)

Pictured: The author with his gumption in tact and new work gloves. While the cost of the dumb things is about as much as a 6-pack of the black/yellow work gloves my father was fond of, I find the ability to have a better grip and dexterity to be helpful. And, they have some nice padding in addition to mesh backs. So they breathe.

I usually have to replace my Shepard's Crook hanging basket annually and this year I went with the coconut fiber bottom. I'm sad to say it's already manky and will probably need replaced toute suite. Bad investment, that. However, by way of a housewarming/gardenwarming gift I did hook up Moda with her own Shep/Crook and black & white Dafoodils in a hanging basket. Thanks, Farmers market!

My favorite: The lilac boarders. They're a little late due to the cold hanging out so long, but they're purpling up nicely. (And I have a few whitey's as well) I'm anxious for the 5 days or so that they smell will waft through my open windows. (Not pictured, the de-vining I had to do. Scratched myself up good doing that crap)

Right. The little rosemary that could. Planted last season, we brought her in during the winter and surprisingly she hung on in spite of bouts of mankiness. Go figure, the first time I think it's okay to move outside, boom. So it was off to compost heaven, just in time to make room for...

my first Farmer's Market visit! Alone! What? I don't know...it's always been a partner trip for me. I knew that I wanted to get my herbs potted but to hold off on veggies until next week going into June. The assortment was 1st split up (Moda got half) and the rest with the things we use regularly around the kitchen: Basil, Cilantro, Italian Parsley, new Rosemary, etc. ALSO, I bought my first asparagus plant. Had we planted some around the 1st year we made the garden, we'd have been enjoying potty smells for the last two seasons. Now, I won't be able to enjoy it until I'm nearing 40 years of age. My potty should still smell.

And there she is. Dusty and rusty, but ready to go. I'm doing what I've (repeatedly) told myself I wasn't going to do and expand her out about 2-3 more feet. I figure it'll give me another few fighting feet to keep the Creeping Charlie at bay, and It'll give me room to put more things in it. (Right now, we're experiencing the joys of nearly half my garden being taken up by garlic. The scapes, I'm sure, will be delish-come June. However there was the tiny issue of room for the rest of the garden. I'm planning on tomatoes, peppers, broccoli, and maybe-Mayyyyybe some Zukes. I already tossed a handful of green onions in a pot so they don't blow up. We'll see)

More dirt was needed where it settled over the winter. I'd read that adding manure/compost early on will help maintain a rich soil base for the summer. So you're looking at around 300 lbs of shit and dirt. And it's heavy, and spread. (My composter is still digesting, as you can see. Note- I was able to convince my roommate that turning the composter every two weeks is "good exercise." He responded by asking if he could do it more than every two weeks. No lie.)

These next two pictured above and below are the areas in my yard where I plan on doing the majority of my landscaping projects this summer. My yard is divvied up into sort of a "Quad", with the garden being the furthest back, then the small lot behind the garage, then closer to the house with the patio/grill on one side and the boxelder on the other. Soooooo, to reduce the amount of lawn to maintain I'm planning on tearing it up where it gets the most direct sun and subsequently requires the most water and covering it with mulch- Then finishing by planting some native perrenials to pretty it up. That'll leave the front yard and the far back as the only mowable patches. And I need a bocce court.