oops

I volunteered to make a few follow up calls for the station today, contacting people who called in to one of our recent digital transition shows with questions about getting a converter box, setting it up, etc. I've mostly spoken to some very lovely elderly folks who seemed quite tickled that someone from the TV station was calling them. Very sweet. So when I got on the phone with a recently retired lawyer who was pretty hip to the jive, I guess I overcompensated with the chit-chat and wasn't as careful with my words. She lives not too far from where I do, and she can't get Channel 8 on her new converter box. I have the same problem, and it'll remain an issue until the transition happens and we're broadcasting at full digital power. So she and I were shooting the shit about what a pain in the ass it is to not be able to get Channel 8 (I didn't mention that I actually get it on satellite). Then I said, "I think it's a conspiracy."

The jovial mood of the conversation came to a screeching halt and she said, "WHAT?" As if I'd confirmed something she'd been thinking for quite some time. I quickly backpedaled and said that I was just kidding. But the damage had been done. I'll bet she's googling that shit right now.

Oops.

writer's block

One of my friends on facebook posted a message about his writer's block, asking for suggestions on how to overcome it. Here's what I recommended:

1. Alcohol
2. Exercise
3. Do something purely physical and not at all mental
4. Have a deadline
5. Be accountable to someone else to finish a script
6. Do something artistic in a different medium (photography, dance, etc.)
7. Walk away from it and don't give it power over you - it'll want your attention badly enough to make it easy for you to write
8. Ask your muse to give a brother a break

Not sure if it'll help him, but each of those things has worked for me at different times.

And I hope they work for me again. I had tea after work (it's the new happy hour!) with an actor/director friend of mine yesterday. I started running my mouth about a few of the plays that are in my head (always a good idea to talk about your story ideas in a coffee shop full of people with laptops), and it occurred to me that perhaps I should spend less time talking and more time writing. So there.

Maybe I'll write a play this weekend.

a couple of funnies

First, please visit the Bald Heretic's blog and check out this video. The clip is about 3 minutes, but you really need to watch the entire thing to get the effect of the commercial that follows. Hilarious in a horrible, horrible way. Especially the part in the cubicles. I've said too much. Just watch it.

Second, the email below was sent to the entire staff last night after a bit of thievery had been discovered from one of the office refrigerators. The author of the email is a friend of mine who's not normally crazy, so that makes this email all the better. The subject line read: "I am appalled."

Yesterday, a dear friend presented me with a nice bottle of champagne for my birthday. In an absolute idiotic moment of trust and confidence I left the bottle in the bottom of the fridge near the membership area.

Imagine my absolute surprise when I went to retrieve MY gift and found it missing but did find the remaining pink ribbon. Seriously what does this say about us??!!

If you are ‘that one’ I am requesting that you step up and do the right thing by replacing it. No questions asked!

P.S.- if you are ‘that one’ and don’t replace it you should know that not only do I practice black magic and I know people! (notice there’s no smiley face emoticon here) Ain’t kiddin’ I am vindictive!!!

Holy shit, that's funny.

effluvia

Jeff Balke tagged me today. I'm in a good mood since Cletus and Mister Potter have left the building, so I decided to play.

I live in mortal fear of the unknown thing or things that live under my bed.
Each night after I turn out the light, I have to make a harrowing journey to the bed. I'm fine getting across the room, but once I reach the foot of the bed I start moving a little faster. I'm pretty sure my heart rate increases, but I wouldn't know for sure because I'm distracted. Waiting for the hand. The cold, strong hand that I know is going to reach out and grab my bare ankle. Oh, I know it'll happen. And even though I've prepared myself for the experience, even though I know it's an inevitability, I'll still probably pee a little.

I give people nicknames.
I tend to give nicknames to people who aren't in the inner circle (with the exception of my friend Morgan). I don't know why I do it. Sometimes it's because I can't remember/don't know someone's name and I need some way to refer to them. Sometimes it's out of admiration. More often, it's out of disdain. Some examples of my nickname-giving prowess: Stretchy Pants, Mashed Potato Girl, TMM (Thoroughly Modern Morgan), Nantucket, Arthur (for a small, drunk woman), the Hobbit and one of my most imaginative - Dickhead.

Sometimes I just...know things.
Call it ESP or being cuckoo or whatever, but I occasionally know things that are beyond my realm of experience. This doesn't apply to lottery tickets.

I have a huge crush on Jon Stewart.
I don't typically credit entertainers with having a direct impact on me, but I make an exception for Jon Stewart. He just breaks down the stupidity in a way I've never seen before. Especially during interviews. One recent segment that stands out to me is when he talked to Mike Huckabee about gay marriage. He's thoughtful, concise, funny, smart and he has balls.

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Mike Huckabee Pt. 2

Barack Obama Interview
John McCain Interview

Sarah Palin Video
Funny Election Video

I once went on something called "the burger journey."
My friend Dennis and I decided to try all (well, most) of the wonderful burger shacks inside the loop a few years ago. This was to be a Thursday lunch excursion. The first week was just the two of us. Then the second week there were three. And then four. By about week 15, there were ten or twenty people meeting in the lobby of the Alley and bombarding Mom and Pop burger joints with way more business than they could handle. Fast forward a few years, and here I am. Haven't had a burger or fried potato since July. My last meal, as it were, was at a place out in the country. And it was truly one of the best burger/tots meals I've ever eaten. Thanks, Mr. Walsh.

Okay - that was only five, and I was supposed to do seven. My lunch break is over. And, really, haven't you had enough of this bullshit?

Please feel free to leave random facts about yourself in the comments.

accidental marathon

- On my usually uneventful Sunday morning trip to Central Market this morning, I encountered the marathon. In my ill-planned attempt to avoid it, I ended up driving alongside it for a few miles along Memorial and then Woodway (because I couldn't turn left to get on 610). It was before 9AM, and as I drove down Memorial I saw the runners who were around miles 20-22. So the people who were at that point in their journey were kicking ass. Good on them. What sucked is that I drove in my own accidental marathon just trying to get to the store. I won't bore you with the details.

- I now have a twitter account. I spent all of last weekend with the DiverseWorks artist cohort, of which I am a member, and we worked on our networking and marketing (online) skills. They made us all set up twitter accounts. I'm still fairly reticent to post things on it, and I don't find myself reading other people's posts that much. We'll see how it goes. Sometimes I'm an early adopter; sometimes it takes me a while to catch my stride.

- I don't know if I've mentioned the artist cohort thing before or not, but I'm really enjoying it. There are about 30 of us (artists) who get together at least once a month for workshops (led by local artists and arts administrators) aimed at making us better businesspeople. The assumption being that we know how to create art (or in my case, whatever you'd call what I do), but we can all use help on the business end. Each month targets a different area (strategic planning, budgeting, etc.). One of the most useful things that has come out of this series is the networking that is happening among the participants. DiverseWorks has been encouraging relationship building and non-monetary exchanges (I'll do some writing for you, and in exchange you'll shoot my headshot or help me create a website). I dig it.

- James and I are going to Northern California in May to see the Dead on what may be their last tour. I'm excited to head up that way again. In addition to a couple of nights in San Francisco and then the show in Mountain View, we're trying to decide whether or not to hit Big Sur (Deetjen's). I don't know how much the area has recovered from last year's fires. By the way, fire came within 15 feet of Deetjen's. I'm pretty sure Grandpa Deetjen's spirit surrounded the place and kept it safe. Talk about something that could never be rebuilt... It's the only place I've ever stayed where the doors have no locks. And I was okay with it. This from a person who has OCD about locking doors. The vibe there just makes it okay. (Of course, you can take the girl out of the city and all that - I locked things in the rental car when we were going to be gone during the day.) Another interesting thing about staying at Deetjen's are the journals that are in every room. You're encouraged to read through the current and past journals and write your own entry. Some of the things travellers have written are poetic, some almost pornographic, some educational (if you want to find XX place, here's how to get there). The journals in the room we stayed in last time went back at least two decades. I'd like to stay in the same room and read what I wrote. I don't remember because I was loaded on wine. I sho do love to write when I've been drinking.

- No, I haven't been drinking today.

not sure how I feel about this

I'm eating lunch at my desk, and my door is shut. A blueberry from my salad just slipped out of the bowl and rolled. I crawled under my desk to retrieve the blueberry and found myself wanting to stay down there. Maybe take a nap or just sit and think. Or do nothing.

the zoo

Some of my fondest memories as a kid are our trips to the zoo, which culminated in an Antone's poorboy by the duck pond. Antone's ain't what it used to be since the family sold the business, and the zoo has changed a lot too. In the case of the latter, the change has been mostly for the better.

I bitched about the demise of the old train last year, but I have to admit that I was pleasantly surprised by how nice the new train is. (James and Crystal on the zoo train. Tried to take the shot on the down-low so as to not blow our cool cover and betray how much fun we were having. If you look closely, though, you'll see that I have clip-on sunglasses on top of my regular glasses. There was never any chance of us - or at least me - being mistaken for cool...)

The seats are twice as wide (to accommodate larger asses), and the track seems quite a bit longer, too. The only thing that was missing for me was the tunnel at the start of the journey. I was always half scared of that thing, even though it had Looney Tunes-like characters in day-glo paint on the inside, nothing scary. An addition to the train experience that I don't remember from my childhood is the sprinkling of homeless people/crackheads throughout the park. I kept waiting for them to run alongside the train with their hands out, begging for alms. Please sir, can I have some more. Luckily, they remained firmly in place on their picnic table living rooms.

Once inside the zoo, the smell still greets you. They still have the same shitty snack bar food, but it's been updated with Starbucks coffee and wrap sandwiches with arugula on them. Much of the zoo is pretty much as you might remember it from a decade or two ago, but a lot has been updated.
For instance, I don't remember seeing meerkats when I was a kid. They are hilarious to watch, often striking what seems to be a pensive pose, looking off into the distance with faraway eyes. Perhaps they are the poets of the animal world. They remind me a bit of Stella but without the big ears.

I've always been a big fan of monkeys. There is now an extensive monkey habitat that offers great views of monkeys examining their genitals and picking bugs off each other. Hey, I'm not complaining. That's what monkeys do. I miss going into the gorilla house. If it and the super cool metal sculpture that used to be at the door are still in the zoo, I couldn't find them. Talk about a smell that greeted you upon arrival... You knew you were doing something when you entered the stinky, humid gorilla house.

The gorillas we did find live outside. We were treated to this little family drama.

Pappa gorilla, suffering from ennui.

Baby gorilla, rolling around in a blanket and delighting onlookers who'd been somewhat disturbed by pappa gorilla.

Baby gorilla, interested in the people. Pappa gorilla, flipping everyone off (mentally).


Baby gorilla, going in for a hug.

Pappa gorilla pushing baby gorilla away and knocking him on his ass. Crowd laughed uncomfortably and hugged their kids as they walked away.

Ahhh, yes. Nothing like a trip to the zoo to teach you a little something about your own life. They're still doing a lot of construction over there, so parking is a bitch. But wasn't it always? I suggest you go before it gets too hot. Eat some cotton candy and remember the good old days. And make sure you ride the train. Best $2.50 I've spent in a long time.

old home week

I joined facebook a few months ago. I'd dragged my feet doing so because I didn't want to have to keep track of yet another site. But I find myself on myspace pretty much not at all - I go on there to post a copy of what I write on blogger and to respond to the occasional email, but that's it. So I realized I wasn't really adding to my internet load, and I was joining a site that had more of my contemporaries on it than myspace does.

My initial "friends" on facebook were mostly people I still see. People from the Alley, PBS, current friends. Now that my network has grown a bit, I'm coming across more...random people. And they me. In the past week, I've reconnected with: 2 guys I lived in the UH dorms with ('88), 2 chicks I worked at Chili's with ('89), 2 buddies of mine from the Lizzard's days (early '90s). Not to mention people from high school, whom I haven't seen/spoken to since graduation 20 (!) years ago.

The phenomenon of getting reacquainted with people from your past is...odd. Are you not currently in touch because of time, distance, divergent interests, a falling out? With some people - mostly those from the high school era- I would say divergent interests (and disinterest on both parts) is the culprit. Which is why we now tend to exchange a couple of emails (Hey! How are you? It's so great to hear from you. You're bummed that Obama won? Hhmmm. Okay. Yeah, I'm not really into guns. Or Jesus. But good for you. I'll talk to you later.), and then that's it.

Now that I'm getting in touch with people from my early college years, it'll be interesting to see where that goes. The emails will probably go back and forth a little longer, and I think that we'll have more things in common, but I'm not sure we're all going to start hanging out again. I don't see my current friends enough as it is. Still, there's a comfort and satisfaction in sharing a laugh or two with people who were in your life when you were still evolving into an adult.

(Yes, I realize I am still evolving into an adult, but the pace has slowed. Dramatically.)

bead it

About a month ago, I decided to make beaded jewelry for the ladies in my life for Christmas. I took a class at Bead Atelier on N. Shepherd and learned to make these really cool hand-stitched bangle bracelets. I made, I think, 20. They took two or three hours each.

Once the holiday was over and (most of) the bracelets were passed out, my hands wanted to keep working. There's a specific satisfaction that comes from making things by hand - a satisfaction that I don't get from the physical activity of writing. I think because writing is mostly mental. The creativity happens in my head. When beading, the artistry is slowly exposed as each bead is added.

So I decided to keep beading. This may not seem weird to you, but it is. Because I am not a "crafty" person. In just the past 24 hours, I've made a completely different kind of bracelet, two necklaces and four rings (all from patterns found online). I'm not sure if I'm just going to pelt my friends/family with beaded jewelry or if I'll actually try to sell some of this stuff. At this point, it's all about the creation.

I had to find something to do to take up the time I used to spend drinking wine.