So Long, Farewell

I think fifteen years is enough. I do appreciate the outlet, but my deep thoughts are so jumbled and repetitive, it is time to retire this blog. Once I figure out how to export this to the big pdf in the sky, we'll call it closed. Take care to you all!

License Plate Game 2020 (What the $#@%?)

It's about Labor Day, right? There is no time and I post this now. I crossed off when the time was up so it's still valid. I get a pass because I leave the house for only groceries and supplies. And the random breath of fresh air. 

 

Interestingly (frustratingly?) with no travel and barely any time out in the world, I'm only two less than last year? What the actual hell?

 

I did see Mississippi last week though.

In normal times, I bet Arkansas, Kansas, Louisiana, New Mexico (seriously?), and Pennsylvania would not have alluded me. But we'll try again next year. Which is time has no meaning, that was three weeks ago.

I Remember Exactly When

This month has been a time of feeling as if there is this hand perpetually closing around my throat. Just enough to be unwell, but not enough to feel like I'm dying. While actually following the instructions of staying home and reducing contact with others as much as possible, I found my self feeling alone down into my bones. It's not a surprise that calls and video chats aren't enough to make up for the missing hugs and smiles from my loved ones. I've even hit a point where being around strangers causes me to have a fight or flight response. I fly.

 

To help fight this ever sinking feeling, I tried to hit the videos to make me feel happy. It's a tall order since I have at my disposal many choices. The trick to it is to find the right one. I found the answer in reliving the big reveals of pop cultural juggernauts. Not to beat a topic to the ground, but Endgame of course is a huge one. See earlier posts. This time it was lacking and it didn't take long to find the way to make it a little more enjoyable. I was missing community, I found it in reaction videos.

 

 I will assemble anything he wants.

 

The wonder of this part of the movie is the feeling I got when it happened. Never mind the subsequent feelings and how they have evolved in the short time since then (again, see earlier posts). My attempt to recapture it is to feel the genuine reactions of those living it. Kind of like how parents watch their children when they show them something they love for the first time. Ice cream, Disneyland, or Santa. 

For all that I complain that crowds have so much potential to ruin my enjoyment of something, I also should give them credit for enhancing my experience when the circumstances are right. Don't talk over the moment, but cheer your heart out when the hero appears just in time.

How can you see what's happening?

There is also a happy time to relive the good parts of something you followed for so long. Unless you're looking for validation, I don't recommend watching the reaction videos of the shit moments that made you hate that which you once enjoyed. That crowd reaction can underline what already felt like a betrayal. Take it from me who tried it right before writing this. 

Seriously, don't do it. The choking feeling came back pretty quickly. Don't feed the schadenfreude. Go be well instead.

Stretching My Viewing Tolerance

Is there any merit in attempting to experiences genres of entertainment that you do not prefer? It feels so much like forcing yourself to eat the vegetables you know are good for you. You need that fiber and various nutrients. I took this level of thinking and expanded it to horror movies. I wanted to have a extra spooky holiday with some horror/thriller type movies.

I was never really a big horror fan. I could handle violence no problem, for a while. I am still okay with PG-13 levels of action violence. But now Tarantino shit is no longer on my docket. In my more recent years, I find myself searching for the happily ever after. No, the guaranteed happily at least when the story is over.

I grabbed what I thought would be a good mix for the sake of good for Halloween, and "hey, I heard this was good".

Turns out a movie having over 90% on Rotten Tomatoes does not mean you'll enjoy it. Made by a cinematic genius, same deal. Also the same for has a cult following. I know these things in my head, and in my heart, but I decided that I wanted to try anyway.

First, Jennifer's Body. It was okay. I see why at the time it came out, it upset horror fans. I can get why it now has a second life in the cult status. So far this is the one I enjoyed the most.

Second, Rope. It was an interesting experiment. I like what was attempted. As for the movie as a whole, I felt uncomfortable the whole time. I get that's the point, but why would I do this to myself?

Third, Green Room. I understand why this is was highly rated by critics. It was very well done and so much is accomplished with so little. However, fuck this movie. I was looking for an excuse to hit the pause button just to calm down. Then I realized the movie would last longer if I kept it up. I do not have the stomach to give up on a movie yet. I really wanted to hit the fast forward button. I made it, but it was then I though about why I was torturing myself.

I don't go into "haunted houses" because I don't enjoy being scared. I definitely don't do roller coaster for the "thrill". There is enough in the world to set off my anxiety, so this isn't my brand of entertainment. Do I need to be watching these movies to be a well rounded person? Does it matter at all? Does it only matter to me?

Or is it just about how I don't want the world to think I'm a wuss? So then why would I admit it in writing? It's to prove that I'm not a wuss. Hey world, I don't like horror movies and I'll say it again. That doesn't make me less than. Now that I've established that, I can now use my time watching what I enjoy. Bring on the Disney movies I've been avoiding because I don't want to sob uncontrollably.

At least there the emotion I'm feeling brings a feeling of being cleansed. Seriously, I haven't seen Coco yet because I'm not ready to deal with it yet. I will bring the tissues and my dog to hug. (I needed them both after the first 20 minutes for Up. Might as well be prepared.)

Cuts Like a Knife

Just had my first surgery as an adult. I still don't know if wisdom teeth removed counts as surgery, but that definitely happened in the teen years. My fear of the unknown combined with my not great teeth out experience and I can confirm, pain sucks.

 

As time is needed to heal, my pop culture addled brain does not need much to trigger all ranges of reference. There are the many obvious, and I even complained at my last appointment that I wanted to heal like freaking Wolverine. Or any damn superhero. Now that I think about it, I'll take a scene cut to me healed. Bleh this is hard.

Well three references hit me hard during this latest and I'm here to archived them. In fact, I forgot number two for a few days, so let's do this now before it goes again.

 

1. To help exercise my lungs during recovery, they gave me an incentive spirometer. Part of the instructions involve inhaling into the tube at a specific rate. I can't look at this tool without reading it as Don Giovanni from Robin Hood, Men in Tights. Let's all enjoy Don Giovanni right now.

 

 

So much dumb and brilliance happening at once.

Sadly the exact moment from the movie is not on YouTube, but thanks GetYarn for giving me evidence that it's real. 

2. I've never seen There Will Be Blood, but I have for years listened to a podcaster that loves it. When that happens, you pick up quotes that you have no context so you just take it literally. And I did. Post surgery care involved a drainage bulb. I still, one weel later, have enough strength to give this "quote" the energy it deserves and when the bulb was removed, I forgot this was flowing through my head for days. But I can't deny it.

Please, don't drink it up.

3. It turns out my surgeon had a conversation with me while I was still at the hospital under observation. Yep, had no memory what so ever of that. He called back days later to check in a and to repeat what he told me then. The mass they removed was tested and turned up benign. This is wonderful news but also put an early Scrubs moment in the mind projector. 

 

 I love Doctor Jan Itor.

 

So there I am a week out and allowed a damn shower. No more lung exercises, drainage bulbs, and test results have been delivered. Oh, my brain won't stop. In fact in trying to figure out the temporarily forgotten "Drainage", mind started to fill in anything it could handle to remember. Since I still need to sleep with my head elevated, let's just finish up on a classic. 

 

 

Tears for a Parasocial Friend

I have a false memory. I wanted to say that when I was a little girl, I remember hearing the news that Gregory Peck died. I was sad and talked to my older sister about it. She chided me and asked why I cared since I didn't know him. Looking up when Gregory Peck actually died I saw that I was already in my 20s when that happened. It wasn't him, but it was a prominent actor that I knew of, but apparently because I wasn't in their sphere, I shouldn't mourn their death. 

 

My mother always described me as a very sensitive child. Accurate and I call it anxiety now. Or detail oriented depending on how I use it. 

 

The memory that is more vivid and more painful is when my best friend called me up in tears when Chris Farley died. Our friendship was forged in cartoons and comedy (specifically SNL). I don't remember crying, but her pain made me hurt and I wouldn't be surprised if I cried for her, him, or both.

 

Hearing the news of Chadwick Boseman's death came on the heels of the end of a live online comedy show. My husband stole my phone to make sure I didn't read the news and ruin my evening. It didn't stop others in the Zoom chat sending their quick RIP messages. I thought maybe it was a strange reference to Doug Loves Movies and how he jokingly would say that about a random celebrity. The joke being that how horrible would it be to be the one to find out about someone's death from a quip in a comedy show.

 

I was shocked. I hurt. I cried. I'm tearing up just remembering it. I also felt a sting of my sister's words decades ago. I didn't know him. Why was I crying?

 

I could analyze this. In fact I did in the moment. He was only 43 and died from the same cancer that took a family member of mine last year. He brought to life incredible characters and gave us portrayals of real life trail blazers.The videos of him with his fans were incredible and show what a beautiful human he was. How could he be gone when he had more stories to tell, more art to create, and more lives to touch?

 

At the same time, I had bawled my eyes out mere weeks ago watching Avengers Endgame. Of course that scene will hold even bigger weight as now the reemergence of heroes centers around the one who is now gone. 

Friday night I was crying for him as my "sensitive child" wanted to talk about it. My younger self that taught me to walk it off wanted to shove my hurt down and not bother anyone. My husband held me as my conflicted self went through the very small list of those I can allow myself to be vulnerable with. He encouraged me to call a very special friend. Pretty much the only one I admitted to last month about my Avengers tears. Bless her and her reaction of "Makes sense. I did that." Have this kind of person in your life. 

But what if she hadn't heard yet? I couldn't be the one to tell her. Yes, I fear being the bringer of pain, even though I did not cause it. I cried as I debated and drafted a text that wouldn't worry her. Can't be too light because that's not fair to spring my crying during what was supposed to be a quick call. I loathe showing weakness that I cannot control. I do not want to hurt my friends.

 

Escaping to social media was a mistake. While the videos of those reminiscing about Black Panther's release and fun experiences of Black Panther fans being surprised by him appearing from behind a curtain, my happy tears were still tears. The devastating ones came with reading those asking for help on how to tell their children what happened. And the one that recounted their child's reply if it was because of the cops or COVID. Or the photos of super hero toys mourning the loss of Black Panther. 

 

Not to sound like the biggest asshole, but I thought about all the future Marvel projects. I am shamed that I cavalierly thought, they'll probably just have to focus on Shuri. And while I typed this, I was bummed that one of my favorite SNL skits Black Jeopardy featuring T'Challa will now be sour instead of brilliant and hilarious. There internet, please punish me for my lapse of selfishness.

If you hurt. You are not alone. I'll leave you with this beautiful image and text from Instagram account Melanin & Mental Health.

 

Why We Grieve People We Never Met

1. Their work helped us get through a difficult time in our lives.

2. Their work inspired our dreams & goals.

3. They modeled possibility.

4. Their death triggers our grief of previous loss.

5. Their passing activates our fears around death.

 

Source: Instagram @melaninandmentalhealth

 

 

 

May you be well. I wish that this is what I was told all those years ago.

No Drano for My Tears

This week I needed to cry. Badly. I had overworked my angry muscles. I needed to express myself and have a catharsis.

But didn't want to cheat. If that even makes sense. On Monday I went down a rabbit hole of YouTube clips. I landed on scene in Avengers Endgame where (spoiler alert) the ashes of the dead come back in a Dr. Strange portal. There was a riveting moment of seeing their success and the cavalry return that gets me. Tiny streams came to my eyes.

Not good enough though. I refuse to allow this Marvel movie to make me cry. A movie must be straight up animated and I'm watching a mother die (fuck you, The Land Before Time) or Pixar montage of a couple's life together (fuck you, first twenty minutes of Up) for me to accept my tears.

That's right, I had to earn a catharsis. I've managed to easily laugh to try and ease my burdens. I think my body caught on. Funny TV shows aren't working anymore. Time with friends have me smiling, but I'm burned out on mild contented laughter. I think I need an angry cry.

My brain took over and decided I would not get The Chainsmokers & Coldplay's Something Just Like This.

Then I looked up what it meant. I appreciate this thoughtful analysis about it and how it's just beautiful at face value.

I don't know why it happened. The song is still in my head. I'll let it stay there for now. Thank goodness I like it. I remain on my quest for peace. But not like the Superman in the song. Oh great, I can't just let a pop culture reference go, can I?

For Your Laughing Pleasure

No surprise, I've been trying so hard to not drop into complete sadness in my brain. It's difficult to do when my muscle memory keeps me on various social media platforms. BOOM, the reality of the world in my face, BAM! Ow, my heart. 

To meet somewhere in the middle, here are four comedy sets that touch on some of what I'm focusing on, but also making me laugh. I used to just get sad at the mention of the existence of upsetting things. That happens. Comedy is subjective. But one day it was pointed out to me even if a comedian is talking about real problems or serious topics and I don't feel that I have the right to laugh about it, they are also inviting me to laugh. 

So without further distraction (yep, I did get sidetracked by social media again in between typing these paragraphs), please enjoy.

Dulcé Sloan

White Women Talking About Feminism

 

Whitney Cummings 

What It Takes for a Man to Get Called Crazy

Taylor Tomlinson Judges Your Wedding Choices

Julia Shiplett

Why Can’t the Maid of Honor Roast the Bride?

Black Lives Matter

I'm at a place right now where a few days ago I thought about posting about the License Plate Game or riddles from Die Hard 3. Unfortunately, as my neighboring cities are being looted, I am sitting here holding back tears because all I can do is hear George Floyd's words "I can't breathe". 

I did not and do not have the courage to watch the video. I see these words and photos of his face and all I feel is pain. I retreat to my room and wait for the emotions to pass. I am privileged to get enough time to no longer hurt. 

I made the foolish decision to go back on social media right now. For some, it ignites a passion that helps them fight, but for me and it's like sticking my hand in a fire. Know what you need to do to keep your mental health stable. Then I want all of my people to do exactly that. 

Because when we are in a place where we are healthy and functional, it is our responsibility to do what we can to dismantle these injustices. Now is the time to critically view yourself and your privilege. Educate yourself and question what you have been taught and always been told. Listen to the black community and do the work to understand why every issue is rooted in race. 

It is hard. You may hurt. You may cry. But it is a reasonable sacrifice. We must do better.

Simon Phoenix Rising

I'm late to the party, but when I first thought of this, I was still late to the party. The internet is too fast to keep up with. We are slowly experiencing why the world became the 2032 of Demolition Man (1993).

Trailer doesn't do it justice.... see what I did there.

Here are the facts. 

1. I'm in California so I've been under rules to stay at home since mid March. Not even a week after that, I began getting emails ending with "Be Well". A small change, but my pop cultured infused brain began to connect the dots.

2. My husband pointed out (what he also saw from the internet) that this pandemic might result in no more handshakes. Or some replacement that does not involve touch.

Baby Benjamin Bratt and baby Rob Schneider!

3. Toilet Paper. Duh. I'm still not even clear how "the three seashells" works, but I've pivoted to cloth napkins and dish towels to eliminate paper product usage. 

4. Free food from Taco Bell is how they are going to win the franchise wars. 
 

Don't know what day it is? That's okay, just know TODAY you can get a FREE Doritos® Locos Tacos from our drive-thru.

— Taco Bell (@tacobell) April 7, 2020

I highly doubt a single restaurant would wipe out all other restaurants, but I also never thought I'd be ordered to stay in my home until a pandemic was under control. 

The easy joke to end this post to to cross my fingers for the invention of virtual sex. Given how much I'm missing hugs lately, I'll just leave that one alone. I swear to crap though, if they outlaw meat, I will riot.

Kneeling to the Tiger King

I realized a long time ago that social media is Keeping Up With the Joneses on steroids. With being forced to connect virtually, social media has exploded again and now I'm experiencing peer pressure on acid. (I didn't want to repeat the same expression, but I think you get my point).

I admit wholeheartedly that I can say no whenever I want. Instead, I will say that I chose to begin watching Tiger King. Going onto Facebook and not understanding memes was driving me nuts. Two of my favorite podcasts  adding bonus episodes to talk about the dang docu-series also made it worse.

Why can't I find a cute dog video anymore?

I just gave into watching the Fyre Netflix documentary this week. It came after some serious work stress and did nothing for my anxiety of being pressured by a narcissist to do as you're told. I actually didn't need to watch that either, but sheltering-in-place is brought down my pop culture walls. I'm saying yes to my husband's request to watch things more. Thank goodness he has good taste, just not his finger on the pulse of what's going to make me cry. (Which lately, it's best to stay away from schadenfreude and animal harm based entertainment. Actually, that's all the time.)

As of this posting we are one episode in and this whole thing is messed up. I want to jump to the spoilers. Is anyone dead? You can go to jail for attempted murder. Am I really taking PETA's side? Husband pointed out that I don't have to take sides. Strike two of him not knowing me at all.

I think the best part is that after seeing the idiotic antics so far, I was not quite phased. Husband asked if it was because I listen to Dumb People Town. YES! I agree with the premise that dumb is getting louder. Years of listening about dumb asses in dumb ass situations is not as shocking as it used to be. Murder, though is too much for me. DPT has a "no one gets killed, no women, children, or animals get hurt" filter. Looking back, I am grateful for that rule. 

Who knows where I'll end up emotionally after finishing the last episode? At the very least, I'll have context for all the memes (which is no guarantee that I'll understand them). Oh well. You win again, society.

I Know That Chin

I have the kind of brain that always want to find familiarity in my surroundings. At times it is against my will and my brain needs to shut up. Just right now, I saw a guy walk by and thought, "It's McLovin, but nerdier."

Yes, even nerdier than McLovin. I'd get into more detail but I think that speaks more poorly of my character than his appearance.

I made a stop at a grocery store to grab lunch during a road trip and had to halt my appetite to take a photo of the Brawny packaging.

Who are you?

My first thought was...Jon Hamm? But no. Jon Hamm is classically handsome, but not flannel handsome. Then I needed my husband to refresh my memory who I thought it was.... you know...from Magic Mike. He guessed Channing Tatum as he has never seen the movie.

I guess I should be proud of him for getting the lead right, but I was not pleased. Clearly this half face was NOT who I was thinking of. No, it's the other guy, from Magic Mike and the USA show.... and also American Horror Story.

Ding, ding, ding that got my answer. Matt Bomer. 

That's the chin you want on your marketing materials.

Now the rest of the body is too bulky, but I stand by my observation. Doesn't fully matter though. It'll take more than a sexy man chin to change my loyalty from Kirkland paper towels. I may consider it if you put on Captain America's Ass. Maybe.

Dog-Eat-White Elephant

Friday of last week, my company had its delayed holiday party. As a member of a department with a very busy end of the year, I appreciate the delay. Then again, January isn't a very sleepy month either, but it is a better option. During this very fun party time was set aside for the White Elephant Gift Exchange. 

What is it about this game that brings out the eye of the tiger? (No more animal expressions from this point forward.) I suppose I understand competitiveness, as I bring this out while shopping at Target. See this top? Got it for $.97 at Old Navy. 

I'm also a hoarder. I don't need more things. Still, I want to win the things. My first year was win-win as what I got (12 pack of La Croix) ended up with a coworker. At a friends party, I tried to win a pair of socks for my hostess. Didn't work. I got sock blocked by her husband.

There are many rule variations and ours happen to involve a steal max of 2 times. This being my third company rodeo, I have developed a new competition. I want my gift to be fought over. Yes...fight for my crap. 

This year I pivoted as I had no time to think about it. I helped plan the party and was focused on making sure our amateur photo booth didn't result in my tablet being accidentally knocked over or my embarrassing calendar reminders chiming in front of my coworkers. 

I have a wall of crap, surely there is a generic present gathering dust I can repurpose. There on my bookshelf was a copy of Represent: The Woman’s Guide to Running for Office and Changing the World. No, this is not crap, but husband and I both got signed copies included in our tickets to How Did This Get Made? People won't fight over this but I hope to at least get a big reaction.

I hesitate though. I want to read this. I could read his, but I don't want to be presumptuous. Maybe I should grab those fuzzy slipper socks from two Christmases ago. The hoarder in me was flaring up.

Husband to the rescue. He gave me his copy. I squeaked so hard when I asked "REALLY?" He said yes. I was set. I was proud of him. I was happy for me. 

In the end, the book got a big laugh when my very tall male CEO opened it up. It got stolen from ine of our VPs to spare him a lady centric book. There were many laughs when she opened up the section about what to do with your nude photos. She joked that she'd save it for when her daughter was older. 

Stolen once, but overall, I think I won....this game I made up. VICTORY!

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.