Resolve to Intend

I enjoy people setting new year's intentions. It's to avoid the disappointment after a crash and burn of a resolution abandoned. That's a cynical view, but one that my almost forty year old ass has developed even if I've grown to be a more positive person. 

In fact, I'm already tangled into the typical traps of new years. "More exercise", "read more books", and "eat better" are already in my scope. The difference is my approach. For the first time ever, I'm connected to a friend on FitBit. I find myself taking the stairs more as this clip device will rat me out. However, that's just a bonus as I like another avenue of being connected to my friend.

"Read more" is just a byproduct of this Facebook book club I'm in. Sure, my goal is 2 books per month. That is about 100 books less than the average member by the time the year is over. I'm still happy because we're just bantering back and forth and recommending new titles. 

I'm not going to run a 10k. I'm not going to read Infinite Jest or War and Peace. I'm going to try and enjoy life, be healthy, and be with my people. I hope you do the same in this new year/decade. 

Okay, fine, I'm going to finally tackle that closet. You hear that cluster pile?!

David & Bustholomew

The post title is my proposed extra classy wing of Dave and Busters. For those of you unfamiliar with the chain, it's Chuck E. Cheese for adults. So an arcade with alcohol. But now Chuck E. Cheese has alcohol. And Dave and Busters allows kids. But the kids have to get the hell out after a certain hour. The point is it's damn loud and neon in there.

We recently went for the husband's birthday. Surrounded by in-laws, we entered the arcade. 

I grew up in the time of arcades that took quarters. Then tokens because they wanted all our money at once. You would win tickets to use as a shitty currency to buy crap. That crap was a badge of honor. Now we have these "power cards". You can still buy the crap. Similarly, by the time I was old enough to gamble, there was no pile of coins. You got a ticket. Don't think of this as money, just keep pressing buttons. I was making an arguement in my teens that it's the same damn thing, let me play slots!

I picked up a habit in my years of gambling of checking balances on machines. Turns out I can't turn it off in an arcade. Might just be generic hypervigilance. As I wandered through the games, I saw an abandoned card. Dude, it's probably empty, but you have to pay three bucks a pop for the card. Yes, you get it in "play" but still.

I go check the balance. 1400 credits. That's about $20. Gah! I can't have this. I go to a kiosk to see if these things are registered. Nope. But in my good faith, I leave at the kiosk to see if anyone comes to claim it. The card art was nothing like the ones we purchased so maybe it could be identified by a sad kid.

Next on my arcade day, a gentleman dominating a claw machine left his card as we stepped up to try our luck. We flagged him down and asked. He said it was his kid's card and empty, he was leaving it. Gimme, gimme, gimme!

Wandering about two machines away, we saw him about ten minutes later. He asked if we saw who took it as he mixed them up. His was still full. I hadn't checked the balance yet, but when I did, I would have started hunting CSI style to find him. He was grateful when we handed it back.

And finally, we go up to a Press Your Luck game. Who didn't want to play "Big Bucks, No Whammies"? One swipe was a toon of fun. Game over.... but it wasn't. We had earned a credit. Plus there were three total credits. I hit it again and we got to play. Sure enough, two credits left. Husband thought we had swiped too many times, but nope. People are leaving machines with credits in them. 

Now the tickets being won are flying into power cards unknown, but I'm screaming "No whammies STOP" on someone else's quarter. Abandoned prepaid fun. It was good times.

I share this cautionary tale to all of you getting drunk or distracted by your children in arcades. Vultures like me will swoop in and take your fake money. For those that don't care, thanks. I had a great time.

Puppy Prop

October! Which means it's time to beat myself up on how uncrafty I am. Or to feel bad about how I'm not as immensly  talented in costume design as my friends on social media (that speak up). 

I knew there weren't going to be any costume parties on my schedule (That's a lie. There's a work one I help plan.) and I let the days fly by. So here it is the 28th and I have no good ideas for my dog. 

I went to Google to rescue me. "Dog costumes" comes up with all the store bought stuff that is sold out. I'm not taking the bait on "guaranteed arrival by 10/30 for the equivalent price of a year at college". Plus, I'm still not a fan of the store bought. Unless some sort of pun or elaborate couple/group thing is involved. New strategy.

"DYI dog costumes." What the hell, internet? I'm not talented enough to make my dog into a Chia Pet. What makes you think I have a box of aquarium plastic plants lying around for just such an occasion? Or that my dog will put up with that? I'm not buying all that. Too much work. And the DYI spider costume. I can't sew....nor do I have items to sew together....oh, it's Martha Stewart's idea....I'm out!

Further in the search "Dog DYI costumes for procrastinators". I get it! I have failed as a.... dog mom that wants to post adorable photos of her costumed dog on Halloween....I guess. That was kind of a bust too. Apparently procrastinators also are also crafty as hell.

If only the dog skeleton costume was in stock at Target. We were going to dress him up like Johnny from The Karate Kid. I was going to be the Body Bag. 

I suppose we can sacrifice a few rolls of toilet paper and make him a mummy. How long before that costume unravels. The idea and the "bandages". 

I bet it's in my best interest to let it go and focus on next year. But then there's dog presents to consume my Christmas. And St. Patrick's Dog's Day where he gets nibbles of corned beef. And Easter where he gets bunny ears and eats grass. And Hide in the Closet During Big Boom Day. Oh, and John Wick's birthday....Fine, he'll be a mummy.

License Plate Game 2019

Not a terrible go this year. It was pretty fun that this was the first year my husband was participating enthusiastically. Now granted I think I found all of these, but with every successful game player, there is a strong spouse behind her. I guess I wouldn't call my successful here since I was four short. Shut up, it's my game.

I'm on to you South Dakota!

Baseball Math...Not Sabermetrics

Not surprising, YouTube keeps algorithms of what you might like to watch based on what you have already. Well, my brain a version of that too.

Husband wanted to show me incredible baseball plays. I'm a fan of sportsmanship and cool plays more than team loyalty. We enjoyed a few plays. One reminded on me of a a scene from the movie Little Big League. After explaining, "No, not the one where the kid is the pitcher, the one where the kid is the owner and manager" I showed him the big cool play scene.

So, I also remember from my multiple re-watching as a kid the math homework scene. It showed up in the watch next suggestions. I didn't want to watch it. Mainly because I didn't want to feel dumb. My husband and I are nerds so we would want to solve it. I'm a competitive nerd so I would have wanted to solve it first.

Even with the video showing us the solution, I didn't want to take Jonathan Silvermans's explanation at face value. We brought out the pen and paper. And after my husband solved it for that particular problem, I asked if the generic formula made sense. He shrugged. That's when I cribbed his work and pulled out a pencil. Dude, I can't do math with a pen. What are you, an animal?

Husband was able to do better than me by setting up the problem, I was able to extract the formula to confirm the dialogue of the movie.

It's the best I could have hoped for given our teamwork got us there. Good job, timid guy from Weekend at Bernie's....and us math nerds, I guess.

Nevermind, I Got Friends

I should have realized that weirdo fans like me can quickly bond with other weirdos that like the same things. I was out at a show last night and see across the stage someone I met at a festival 4 years ago. I follow her on Twitter and we chatted about the last show we saw each other at. And looked forward to seeing the friend she was saving a seat for who was the one that introduced us. Naturally, I reintroduced myself to two of their other friends as they chatted about a show next month that I already had tickets for.

I also was looking for another fan I see at shows and was a little bummed he wasn't there. To top it all off, I made small talk with a group behind me about the show. They chatted about the last show they were at and a piece involving audience participation. Before I know it, I realized a comment thrown out about "some girl" was referring to me.

So, there you have it. Fans being friends is a real thing. See you all at the next show!

Will You Be My Friend?

I went to four live shows, three stand up, one podcast recording in the last month. Here's what blew my mind right now. After each show, I got to have conversations with the performers. They are kind people and very good to their fans. What's amazing is that they remember me. 

I have long term fan status. I get hugs. I know it's politeness to an extent, but it means a lot to me. I know they appreciate the support, but I appreciate their effort. I don't think it's fake and that's enough for me. They give a hug, I buy some merch. Oh, now it sounds dirty. I retract my statement. But not my hug.

Captain's Log: Star Date 05302019

It finally happened. I always heard about it but thought it was really strange.

As I was on the train home from work yesterday, I hear this very loud coversation between two women. Well, it was more like one loud woman with occasional single word interjections from the other.

She's describing a different conversation to a man about Star Wars. Then after a few more sentences says that she actually meant "Star Track". I wondered if she was being intentional with her choice of words, but the more I heard, nope.

Apparently she wasn't interested in either. There was a gleeful detatchment that I interpreted as "I'm not into that nerd crap." Yes, it was my interpretation and I chose to make her judgemental. I swear that interpretation was only partially based on context of being forced to listen to her boring conversation. She seemed happy to not know the difference.

I sort of get being proud of being detached. I like not giving a crap about sports ball. At the same time I understand people's enthusiasm. I also get their rage fits when things go south. That's the main reason I like to detach. That way you don't spontaneously sob when one of your beloved GOT character dies for crappy character development that could have been accomplished instead with the FREAKING.....

Sorry. My point is while I don't stand tall with my Warriors jersey hooting about three-peats (side note: they were giving away Warriors Tshirts outside my office yesterday. I love free crap, but I tamed my inner hoarder), but I am aware the name of the team.

Seriously, Star Track? It's not like you're being asked to remember the full title of Borat or Birdman. 

Okay, I'll save you 2 Goggle searches:
Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan
Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)

Too Much Time on My Hands

Hey, that's a song.

We have tickets to see the Avengers. I have friends posting their selfies in the movie theaters. I tempted fate by looking up the voice of F.R.I.D.A.Y. I have so much to do and all I seem to want to do is go online and risk having the movie spoiled.

I mean, it's not as bad as my teenagers years where I spoiled Alien for myself as I looked up movie quotes on IMDb while there was still at least 30 minutes left. 

My husband tells me that even if he knows how it ends, he can still enjoy watching. He considers this a cultural event and enjoys participating. I'm making myself so anxious, and demand that this better be the greatest movie ever.

I hated Infinity War.. the first time I saw it. It left me upset. Husband didn't know it was meant to be two parts so he was totally confused. We rewatched it last night and even though I was upset, I wasn't fraught. It is an excellent movie. 

(Crap! I doubled checked if rewatch was a word and the first article up is about Marvel movies. I should have known.)

Sigh. There are plans for a three plus hour movie (Damn, I want to look up the exact time and now I'm paranoid.) and a meal out. Will my bladder betray me? Will I dehydrate? In my younger years, I ran out of Return of the King because I really had to pee and those fake endings can bite me. 

Still, I have a date with my husband tonight to see a movie we are excited to see. I also have brunch plans with a nerd friend that was there opening day. There are talks to be had. Hopefully. I hope I'm not upset again. There will be "real" deaths happening. This is the endgame. 

Don't tell my friend, but I'll be okay if Tony is doesn't make it. Oh, I might even cry. Please don't let this be a movie where I cry...

Hey, that killed come time. Only two hours left.

Retconned Movies

After listening to a podcast covering the War of the Roses and the hosts recommending The Other Boyelyn Girl, I was immediately watching the trailer. I remember when this movie came out and read through the plot as I figured I wouldn't enjoy the movie, but curious about the story. At least the non-spolied by common knowlege history parts of the story.

Here I am eleven years later and a decade plus of Marvel movies and extensive casts has destroyed my perception of this period drama. So Black Widow and Jane Foster are fighting over the Hulk's attention (no the other Hulk, no the other Hulk) AND Black Widow is married to Dr. Strange?

I suppose it tracks as much as Justice League. Well, I'm seeing Captain Marvel tomorrow and with that being a period piece, that should add to the fun. Wait, hot Dumbledore/Watson is in this one? But Watson/Bilbo was already in Civil War and Black Panther. Damn you Marvel. But also thank you.

More Plane Thoughts

Holy crap, I am literally in the same place I was last post. Or the same airport and impatiently waiting for my flight. This time I have my loving husband with me and pointed out the exact display that made me miss him one month ago. 

I'm happy to have this contrast. In fact, I am currently watching his crap (that he told me to guard with my life) while he does our standard preflight ritual stuff. Nothing like the preflight nervousness to make want to pee.

Oh, he's back. My turn. Got to enjoy this luxurious bathroom trip while my purse and travel pillow are protected. Ahhh....marriage.

Plane Thoughts

Written January 18, 2019.

I write this at 30,000 feet, and now is the perfect time to kill time. I find my blogging tends to take more time than I realize, so here I go as I am trapped in my preferred window seat and NOT having anxiety. (Don't mess with me potential turbulence.)

Even with the government shutdown, I was able to fly through security. I saw a coworker on her way to southern California and turns out I have an online friend on the same flight going to the same convention as me. Only found out through Twitter. INTERNET!

When I was back alone with my thoughts, I wondered how it would have been different if my husband was here too. We travel more lately (since I learned to manage my flying anxiety and started accruing vacation at a faster rate) and last year discovered we can travel independently.

Okay, we knew we could, we just didn't. We like each other. And we like being home. Don't get me started about leaving my dog. I would do a weekend away with my mom, but beyond that, my bed is comfy and already paid in full.

It wasn't until people on the other side of the road got me excited to get going again. So many fantastic podcast friends await me. Husband doesn't need to be dragged along.

But that means I won't have my human travel pillow with me. Wait, I'm fully responsible financially for this trip? Crap. I have to bring all my stuff with me to the bathroom at the airport and no one will save my seat. What kind of bullshit us this?

Then again, I'm traveling with so much less since I'm not doubling up on supplies and provisions. I don't have to scout out places and make the traditional trip to a drugstore where we buy a case of soda and two gallons of water. I don't have to worry about keeping him up with my snoring since we'll be on top of each other in a tiny room. I sleep when I want! And no mom style hovering when it's time to pack. I don't have to pack the dog for a trip to grandma's house.

Yes, benefits to be enjoyed. Still I miss the little jokes to be made when a typical travel foible happens. Or a certain word that in very special context is only funny to us said by a stranger. We have our moments. I'll miss those. I miss him.

I also know he's happy to get the bed to himself, can do the dishes on his timetable, and pizza will be on the menu all weekend.

While I'm a little sad to leave him, these times apart make me grateful we are allowed to be our own people. We just happen to share our stuff. Well, some of it.

Sweet, we're descending. Crap, bumps and seatbelts now required. Damn you lack of husband arm to grip. I'll live. It'll just be one more story to tell him tonight when we talk each other to sleep.