Sure you don’t want to feed the cats?

Last night the Bald One & I joined a few other friends and went to the L (as in, Lesbian night club). As you might guess and our group being happily married people, we were in the minority. But there was a live band and wall to wall people followed by a great DJ mixing it up past last call. When the lights came on and we were thrown out it should have been a clue that we were out late. Instead, the Bald One & I both played designated less-drunk and drove the two vehicles back to R&T’s place for more drinking, smoking & loud music. Eventually, our host threw us out so he could spend time with his wife who he hadn’t seen most of the week.

We drove the not-much home and dropped off Point-Eight-Mile Mikey at his home before heading to our beds. As we walked in we were met with a chorus of kitties wondering just where the heck we had both been. I asked the Bald One if he cared to feed the demons now, to which I got back “no, it’s not late enough - and they’ll just get me up again at 3:55am. Neither of us looked at a clock.

We brushed teeth, turned out lights & had a bit of conversation. At this point, Gabe (the oldest & ring-leader of the morning food demands) came up and yelled at both of us. When he was chided away, he got on my dresser & started playing with the loose change. “Honey, are you sure you don’t want to feed the cats?”

“yes, dammit - it’s not even 3am” followed by the sounds of him rolling over to look at his alarm clock on the floor “No, it’s just going on four” This exclamation led to my giggling for the next five minutes as he ambled half-blind into the kitchen to feed the cats.

We then slept in gloriously until Noon.

 

I broke the internet…

Well, our household connection to it anyway. The sequence of events involved a Wii, a WEP password from Hades and me having no patience when it comes to disorder and chaos.

 

On Sunday, I made my husband a very happy man. First, I let him sleep the good sleep while I spoke with my parents, started laundry and made coffee. Then, once he was up and semi-functional, I flipped through the ads and discovered that Best Buy had a guaranteed 9 Wii game systems in all of their stores. I called the one closest to our abode and discovered that at that second, ninety minutes after opening, they had four left on the floor. That was all it took for the Bald One to finish throwing some clothes on and off we went. Forty minutes later had us back home, finishing our coffee and plugging in the new toy.

 

 

ICHC fun time

What else does one do on a Sunday but cruise crazy webpages?

Being a fan and all of I Can Has Cheezburger, I noticed you can actually submit one. (woohoo!)

Keep an eye out for him on the Voting Page, k?

 

VisualDNA widget?

maybe this works?
Well, not like I hoped. *sigh*
Go take a look at it, it’s kinda neat and could have been cooler

Read my VisualDNA™Get your own VisualDNA™

 

Failure to Yield

(This is way too early to be up on a Sunday morning)

To Whom it May Concern:

This is in reference to the ticket which will likely be put it my mailbox at some point in the not too distant future. I apparently irritated one of your marvelous law enforcement agents this morning, who had already (apparently) had someone piss in his Cheerios that day and felt like sharing the good mood.

 

Pandora

I’ve raved about the greatness of Pandora before - music genome of goodness…some days, I wonder if I could get by without your existence. Today, I decided to create a new station based on my current need of Bob Segar-esque tunes. The description of similar music listed

basic rock song structures
repetitive melodic phrasing
extensive vamping
mixed acoustic
electric instrumentation &
major key tonality

The one that had me laughing enough to write everything down and fight the impulse to call the Bald One to share the laugh? extensive vamping

Don’t ask why…it’s Friday

 

Buzz Beans Friday

Seriously, this is me now: I’m a little wired. I didn’t get a lot of sleep for the second night in a row because I thought it would be fun (ha!) to go to the bar last night after rehearsal. Partially, because I wanted to see folks & partially because I’m…well…a regular. Sad, but true. I have a neighborhood bar now.I digress. On my way to rehearsal yesterday, I picked up coffee for myself and MsJ and a box of buzzbeans. I promptly forgot about said buzz beans because they were in my purse, I had fifteen mintues to figure out what I was doing and we were into rehearsal. I found them when I got to the bar & put my sunglasses away. I had a few then and left the rest in the purse.

Now, I just had them as a supplement to my breakfast (one chewy granola bar & coffee). I feel a little over-revved. So…after I expound ungodly amounts of wired-ness on som ACL stuff (done!) I might be able to fly through the rest of the day.

 

my toaster oven is possessed

I’ve stated this before to people, and they’ve always blamed my walk-away tendencies. This time, I’m serious.

I wanted pop tarts for breakfast. Well…brunch. So, I popped the suckers into the toaster oven, did some stuff around the kitchen keeping an eye on it and then went to start the VCR. See, there’s an hour left on the tape and I wasn’t sure if it was something I’ve seen or not. Turns out, it was SG: Atlantis. But I hadn’t heard the toaster go click so I go to look at it. Just in time to see the black smoke starting to come out of it. Yes…black smoke. The poptarts had both started to pass “toast” and gone to full on ignition.

I follow the directions that have never failed me before - unplug the sucker. The past two or three times this has happened it was because I put the toaster on too high and something else was going on - like the toast was too dry, there was something that was on the heating coil, it didn’t turn off when I opened the door to remove things and a crumb caught on fire…you get the picture. I quickly realize that things around the toaster oven are getting warm. Like a plastic bottle it quite toasty. Then, I notice that the pop tarts are acting as fuel for the fire and it won’t just burn out due to lack of oxygen. Damn. And I can’t just open the door and remove them into the quite nearby sink. I grab the bottle and half fill it with water, quickly open the door and THROW the water into the toaster oven. It puts out the fire but smoke billows out. I turn on the fan and douse the other pop tart (which is smoldering) just to make sure.

When I call the Bald One to tell him of the demise of our toaster oven (the guard for the top heating element is warped - yes, that hot). He tells me to move the damn thing out onto the front porch - because if it’s possessed, then it should really be possessed OUTSIDE instead of in my kitchen. I broke out the old two-slice toaster and toasted a pop tart.

Damn toaster oven.

 

into the rabbit hole

…down is up and up is down. read this when the below post doesn’t make a darn bit of sense

It was late. Or rather, it was early but only early if you lived the normal rat-race kind of life style. The individuals who paid my paycheck on a daily basis were just starting to get up and go off to the gym while I was just thinking about crashing for the night. In the early pre-dawn hours of a blissful early spring day, I got ready to crash out thinking about the previous twenty-four hours.

It had been a good day, all in all. The show had been written in-house and was directed by one of our own. The cast was fully local, as was the design team. This made it fairly easy to make al lthe necessary adjustments all the way through the production schedule. So when yesterday dawned our final dress rehearsal, the final show of the inaugural season was in good shape and it actually was pretty good.

That’s not to say that there weren’t snags. After all, if it had been perfect we all would have been worrying about what would happen for opening. You can’t have a perfect show the night before opening. It’s just…superstition…but why chance it? And it gave us a reason to be out all hours of the night yet again. After things were fixed, there was a small celebration to be had.

The core group of people had come a long way to make all this work. We could remember sitting around snowed in Pennsylvania towns in college together. The quiet fun had with a good cigar and a glass of some fine alcohol while discussing what we had just seen together. Followed by talking about silly dreams for the future. Who knew we’d actually be able to pull it off? But after years of working in our separate fields in our separate cities, chance brought us all back together. And over another round of drinks after another production, things started coming together.

First, there was the building that had been found. It was perfect for what we wanted…and because of its historical status, it hadn’t been destroyed…but nobody wanted to make the investment to restore it. Mostly because they didn’t realize what could be done with it…but we could see it in the bones of the architecture. And with a few phone calls to the right person in Philly, we had permission and drawings and a licensed architect making sure we didn’t screw up. The first year was a little hard as we spent days trying to put the building together the way we wanted it and nights working in our separate fields. I was always running to rehearsal right after the end of day discussion and they wouldn’t see me again until mid-morning. The guys kept themselves busy with their own devices. We all kind of lost a year of our personal lives, but luckily the rugrats are too young to remember how much I ditched them.

After the building restoration came the finding of folks to work with. I’d conned a director from another production company while the guys did a lot of the initial design work. Actors were found that were daring enough to try a different theater and soon people started to come - if for no other reason to see what we’d done to the place. But they stayed for the art, which was cool with us. After a show here and a show there, we finally had enough of a reputation and funding to try a full season. By now, the guys each had their own crews - Nicoli was off running the technical side while Jay ruled supreme in the kitchen.

Our first season was only three shows…but each one had been packed with learning experiences and eventually audiences. This last one had sold out opening night and tonight would tell how well that went. But for now, sleep. D was due to get up in a bit and have breakfast with me before he went off to work. But definately sleep.

 

damn commercials

what is it about television that makes you emote. I guess that means I haven’t been totally desensitized.

So there’s the latest attempt by the DeBeers group to make people believe that real men shower their women with expensive baubles of compressed carbon on any gift-giving occasion, especially major ones where family/love is of the utmost importance. Their latest thing is this poor (I mean in terms of situation, not in financial matters) sap of a guy is stuck in Minneapolis on Christmas Eve. Yeah, that blows. But for some reason, he waits until every car is gone to decide to walk home…to Chicago. He walks, steals a coat from a scarecrow, hops a freight train, bargains his watch away for a car that ends up in the ditch only to be rescued by a guy driving a snowplow - who he then bargains away the car in the ditch to for a ride home to surprise his wife. What’s the first thing the guy does? Not get a hug, not go inside and get snuggly - he gives her a jewelry box. Now, I’d consider this sappy and sweet (I’ll admit, a tear might have snuck out before I started thinking) if it was a ring and he was proposing on Christmas Day as the sun came up. However, boyo is just buying her a fancy necklace - one of those with the three stones in a waterfall type formation. And it’s dark. So it isn’t even Christmas morning.

Hallmark is still on my good side - they haven’t made me cry yet. I’m sure they’re waiting for the turkey to be digested though.

Other amusements include the fact that on House Cameron & Chase got it on while she was high. I guess drugs and possibly having HIV will do that to you. But it was amusing because he seems more attached now than she is - and did she just do this partially out of pent-up frustration with House? Who knows. And more importantly, why am I pondering these things at almost 1am when I have work tomorrow. Followed by a long drive to Maryland. Followed by 20 hours of family togetherness…fun times

In one week, I start tour. Expect more dissertations on bad television, I always seem to be able to find it at 2am in hotels. When I was in Boone (the last time I traveled for theater) I finally saw that fabulous 70s (?) flick Rhinestone Cowboy. It was better than being scared by Showtime in the wee small hours…that was when I discovered that there were worse writers than the folks who adapted War of the Worlds for Tom Cruise.