Me and My Imaginary Friends

The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you're uncool.

Monday, July 31, 2006

States of Mind

Things that Make Me Happy
  • Having a garage when the sky is dumping rain by the bucketful.
  • Knowing that my pants are a little bit looser this week than the week before.
  • Getting most of my woefully late Thank You cards done and out.
  • The return of GSAM.
  • Getting rid of 2 quarts of ice cream at GSAM.
  • Working with new people in service.
  • Getting a goofy voicemail message from an old friend.

Things that Don't Make Me Happy
  • No email.
  • Shopping for a bra with a creepy man next to me.
  • Not being able to leave a bad movie because I didn't know how the friend I was with would react.
  • The effects of GSAM. ('nuff said)
  • Losing two awesome people from my bookstudy.
  • Exercising.

Because It's There

Friday evening, I went to Martinis and IMAX with a very nice group of people. Paper Towel Lover arranged the evening. I had a Mochatini, watched the film and then we went to Fellini's afterwards for some good pizza. My review of the movie is in no way a reflection on Paper Towel Lover or Martinis and IMAX. If I had to do it all over again, I would not hesitate to do so.

So, about the movie "Everest." I think it was supposed to be an inspirational film. I did not find it to be so. Instead it highlighted how stupid extreme mountain climbers are. The first person to reach the summit of Mount Everest was Sir Edmund Hillary. But popular history forgets to tell you that the famous white guy had a brown (yellow?) man along with him - Tenzing Norgay. This film followed an expedition team which included the son of Tenzing Norgay, Tashi Tenzing.

OK, so that's a little inspirational. The son of one of the first men to reach the summit is following in his father's footsteps. I'm sure he's always lived in his father's shadow and now he's going to make a name for himself. And they kept showing re-enacted scenes of a little Asian boy looking up worshipfully to his father. Yeah, OK, that pulls at your heartstrings. Little Asian boys are stinking adorable.

Another member of the team is an American guy who is going on this trip as his honeymoon. There's some great shots of him and his fiance racing their mountain bikes in the American West along insanely dangerous precipices. Thrilling? Sure. Idiotic? You bet. These scenes were accompanied by a voice track of the fiance telling us that her man thinks a 5 hour bike ride is a "warm up." Honey, you've got no one to blame but yourself.

The last interesting member of the team is a Spanish woman. We meet her as she dangles by her pinky from a rocky outcrop over the ocean in Mexico. The human interest angle for her is that if she reaches the top, she will be the first Spanish woman to do so. First. Craziest. What's the difference?

They finally go to Everest. There are three different places where they have to stop to get acclimatized to the altitude. As they tell us, if you just took someone straight from sea level and dropped them off on the summit, they would die within hours because they couldn't get enough oxygen to their lungs. Your blood has to "thicken" with red blood cells to carry more oxygen. In fact, above a certain point of the mountain, there's not enough oxygen in the air for a helicopter's blades to "grab on to" to fly. (Kimi and I very inappropriately laughed at that point in the movie.)

Once they reach the second camp, the honeymooning wife settles in 'cause she ain't wickity whacked enough to attempt this climb. There is a large climbing party ahead of them which includes at least one "good friend" of the honeymooning man. This is where the movie turns dramatic. That party gets caught in a surprise storm. Several climbers die. The "good friend" is stuck on the mountain in the dark and cold. They patch through a signal so that he is able to talk to his 7-months pregnant wife back in their home. They select a name for their unborn child. He dies that evening from exposure to the cold. Another climber who had been left for dead somehow makes it down the mountain. He gets choppered out (this is where we did our inappropriate laughing at the "not enough air to fly in" comment) to safety. He loses both hands to frostbite and has severe damage to major systems.

I had to mention all this because the team we were following was emotionally affected by this tragedy. But not enough to stop their climb. When the weather cleared, they kept going. They had to walk by the frozen dead bodies of climbers that they were friends with, but they chose to continue. That is what convinced me that they were all off their rockers. There is a time when you just have to say, "This isn't worth it. My life is more valuable than this silly accomplishment." The honeymooning wife didn't want her new husband to go on. So what did she do? She told him to "climb it like you've never climbed it before." Dude. Even she was insane.

They made it to the top, one of them even did so without the assistance of oxygen. But I was not impressed.

They were on the mountainside a total of 9 weeks. No showers. No toilets. Only ice, wind and death. Not my idea of a vacation and definitely not a honeymoon.

Dinner was decidedly more interesting. I had a nice long chat with a lovely girl from sorta my old side of town. She was a good conversationalist and not nutters.

Who Wants to Look Like a Super Dork?

The SciFi Channel has gotten into the reality TV business. They have a new show called "Who Wants to Be a Superhero?" I caught most of this show last Friday (while waiting on Kimi Stewart). It was one of the most entertaining things I've seen in a long time, but not in the way they intended.

The host is Stan Lee, the creator of Spider Man. And he's really just phoning it in. No really, he's never in the room with these people. They're playing up the "lair" and "secret commissioner" angle so that Stan Lee only appears to these freaks people through two-way communicator video screens. Each person came to the show with their own superhero identity (and costume) which they will develop as the show progresses.

This week's assignment was deceptive. They were dropped off in public in their "street" clothes. After Stan Lee gave them the signal, each one had to go find a place to change into their costume without being observed. You know how Superman changes in a phone booth? Well, they had to find a similarly suitable place to change...in public...in broad daylight. Then they had to race to a designated spot. The person who could go the fastest would be the winner. Ah, but that's not all, my little freaks superheros. What they weren't told is that Stan Lee had placed a crying child just in front of the finish line. They were really being tested on whether or not they would stop to help the little girl instead of racing to the finish. Let's take a look at the freaks superheros who stood out on this episode.

Nitro G - Eliminated. Stan Lee busted him for giggling during the elimination pomp and circumstance. I guess he just wasn't taking his freak superhero duties seriously enough. He changed right out in the open and did not help the little girl. Well, maybe we don't want him near kids...

Fat Momma - First of all, learn how to spell Mama correctly. Her catch phrase is, "Saving the world, one doughnut at a time." Since she derives her "strength" from doughnuts, they feature prominently on her costume. As in, she's got doughnuts attached to her belt. The problem? They fall off when she runs. By the time she was finished with the little task they'd been assigned for this episode, she had no doughnuts left on her belt. She did, however, stop to help the little girl. But I'm not entirely certain that she wasn't just looking for an excuse to stop running.

Major Victory - This dude is beyond explanation. You truly have to see him "in action." He does this thing with his head where he makes it bobble to indicate that "duhn duhn duhn" he's here to save the day. He was the only man to help the little girl. But instead of just holding her hand or picking her up, he made her jump into his arms so that he could carry her. Then he ran off doing more of that disturbing head bobble.

Monkey Woman - Oh my. Her scanty costume also displays a food - bananas. The difference? Her bananas are supposed to be high-tech weapons and gadgets "disguised" as bananas. I also did not see any bananas fall off of her costume. Her vulnerability? "The sound of music boxes and calliope organs." But really, who doesn't weaken when they hear those things? She also neglected the child. But she found the most unusual place to change...up a tree. Go figure.

The show comes on the SciFi Channel Thursdays at 9. I hate to admit it, but I think I'm hooked. I haven't laughed so much in a long long time...not since I went to Dragon*Con a couple of years ago.

Friday, July 28, 2006

The Welcome Buggy

Not to be outdone by The Polyglot, I would also like to welcome Book Reader to my blog. Book Reader is one of those "old" friends of mine that I am getting to know much better now that I live so close to her. Settle in, get comfy, comment a lot and if you feel inspired, start your own blog - we all like the Refresh button. :-)

Hump Day Photo

Whew. I almost forgot this week's Hump Day Photo. You're not getting anything fancy this week.

Since I got my camera phone, the most fun I've had is shooting the sky while driving. Odd, but that's me. The sky was particularly fine on Hump Day this week (so this photo kinda fits the theme).


New Links

I added some links on my sidebar. Both are to photo sites - one for me and one for My English Cousin. Take a gander at each and add comments - let us know what you think. Be constructive. We actually like honesty (at least I do). For example, "You should have cropped out the flower in the foreground because it is distracting," is more beneficial than, "I love it. What a pretty picture. You must have a really nice camera."

Real Friends, Old and New

This is going to be a goofy post where I try to say something deep, but don't quite communicate it as well as I'd like. Be forewarned.

A couple of things have occurred at work recently to remind me of just how long I've worked there and known some of the people. I've been there 12 years this summer. One of the men I've known for 12 years is finally leaving the company. He's not someone I see on a daily basis. But we formed a solid friendship when I first joined the company and have grown to really respect each other in the ensuing years. (He's got this kind of friendship with lots of people in the office.) Today is his last day and I'm sad that I'll never see him in the hallway again.

Along those same lines, I had a nice chat with Jules yesterday about old friends. There are some really great people that I've known for years, but have lost touch with. It makes me sad that I can't find enough time to fit in meaningful friendships with all the people I like and respect. Thankfully, this blog has allowed me to keep in touch with a few people who could have easily (and very shamefully) fallen by the wayside. I know this is all just a part of life, but it still feels like it shouldn't be so easy to lose touch with people.

Conversely, I'm blown away by how many cool people I've met over that last 10 months. I honestly thought that I pretty much knew everyone there was to know in this city. (You know what I mean.) But between building significant relationships with my nephews and making so many wonderful new friends, my life has been very full and enriched.

See what I mean? I wanted this to be deep, but it's just been obvious - I miss my old friends who I don't see anymore and I really like my new friends. Gee, thanks for the groundbreaking discoveries, HnB.

How much are you willing to expose?

There's a new bikini on the market. It has a built-in UV meter to tell you how much sun you've been exposed to. When the number goes beyond a setting that is dangerous to your skin type, you need to get out of the sun. Finally, a bikini that communicates something valuable.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Snooty Town

OK. So in theory, I know that I've moved to a nicer area. But I have not reflected on how it's changed my life. Until this week.

Each year our office does a back to school drive. We used to just collect tons of school supplies. But last year they decided to collect backpacks complete with all the supplies that one student would need. Since our department is full of non-joiners who hate doing this kind of thing, I ended up collecting all the donation money and buying all our supplies. This year, I was "officially selected" to be my department's team leader ('cause, of course, it's a competition).

First, I'm surprised by how few people contributed to this effort. On top of that, I'm annoyed that they just assumed that I would do it all again. It's a lot of work. But of course, I just accepted the assignment.

So I remember that I spent about $22 on each complete backpack last year. I looked for sales this year and found some decent prices on backpacks at grocery stores. But the other supplies were much more difficult to come by cheaply.

Do you realize that there's not a single Big Lots, Family Dollar or Dollar General anywhere near my new house?!?! I was stunned to realize that. Where can I find my cheapo crap? I love being so close to Ross and Marshall's, but I need my cheesy stores too. I used to live within a one mile radius of a Big Lots, Family Dollar, Dollar General and a Goodwill. I even used to live very close to a Kmart before it went out of business.

Wow. I'm in a snooty area. If anyone knows of these stores and I've just missed them, please fill me in.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Overdressed

I just can't seem to win. All week it's been around 68 degrees in my office. I suffered thorugh it on Monday, being barely able to feel my fingers when I left. Then I finally dressed appropriately yesterday in turtleneck (surprise surprise) and sweater. I was still a little chilled, but I could at least move my fingers. Today, I again dressed in a turtleneck and sweater. Only now it's around 83 degrees. I really wish they could just get the office temperature under control.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Mark My Words

David E. Kelley is famous for ripping stories straight from the headlines. Today, I found an article that I guarantee you will be on "Boston Legal" this season.

Monday, July 24, 2006

Your Assignment, Should You Accept It...

Kimi and I were talking tonight about blogging and how different people enjoy the process of writing and some enjoy the process of consuming that writing. As a few others before her, she doubts that she would be able to keep a blog going for a consistent period of time. This led me to think about how and when I decided to blog.

I first discovered the concept of blogging in 2001. A coworker that I had been pretty close to took a job in another city. He had friends all over the country and was a brilliantly creative person. He began his blog as a hip way to keep in touch with his friends from all over the country. I was a faithful reader and commenter. I loved being the audience. I guess I didn't realize how much I loved being a writer until he gave his readers an assignment.

Unfortunately, February 2006 marked the one year anniversary of Mike's death. In an effort to stimulate those of you who want to write, but need a motivation to do so and as a way to honor a really hip guy, I am going to give you the same writing challenge that he issued to his friends.

I think he based (read: stole) the concept from somewhere else, but since I don't know the original source, I'm happy to only cite Mike. The assignment is to pick a song that has meaning in your life and write about it. It could be a favorite song or a song associated with a particular memory or the song your mother used to sing to you - anything. Just think about it and tell us why it is important to you.

Send your assignments to me through email and I will figure out a way to post them (probably through web space I have with my ISP). For now, I will post the one that I wrote for Mike's blog.

Horse N. Buggy
Write an essay about a song? My first thought was to tell you that The Reflex by Duran Duran is my oldest favorite song. But as I typed that, another song came to mind; one that is older than time. I'm going back to childhood, early childhood for this...

I'm a performer. I love to make people laugh. I love to sing. I love to dance. I learn the words to a song after I've heard it just a couple of times. These are innate personality traits, I couldn't get rid of them if I tried. I remember the older brother of a 6th grade friend. He drove me home from her house one afternoon. Like any typical teenage boy, he turned on the radio instead of talking to his little sister and her friend. What did I do? I sang along with the radio. It annoyed him so he changed the channel. I sang that song, too. He changed the station again. Again, I knew that song. After about 6 or 7 attempts to find a song I didn't know, he asked in annoyance, "Do you know every song on the radio?" I guess that's when I figured out that everyone else didn't.

So what does that have to do with this essay? Well, I'm writing about the very first song I recall learning the words to. There have been thousands since, maybe hundreds of thousands - who knows? But that first one is truly special. And it goes like this:

"There was a farmer had a dog and Bingo was his name-o. B-I-N-G-O, B-I-N-G-O, B-I-N-G-O. And Bingo was his name-o."

I guess it's more of a ditty, than a song. And some of you will baulk because I left out the disappearing letters in the refrain. Well, I never sang it that way. It still doesn't sound right to hear people sing it like that. My way was to find anything that was at least 6 inches off the ground to stand on as my stage and grab a hairbrush or a pool cue or an upright vacuum cleaner handle to serve as my microphone. I'd stand on that stage (usually in little more than my diaper) and perform for whoever was in the room. My parents loved for me to perform for them and visiting friends and family. I have an aunt who still cracks up over one particular performance.

Evidently, I watched a little too much Mike Douglas (or Dinah Shore or whoever had a daytime variety show on at the time). At the end of my performance, I bowed to my well-deserved thunderous applause and said something too fast for the audience to understand. They stopped me and asked me to repeat whatever I'd said. Well, I couldn't repeat it without bowing at the same time. But they still had trouble deciphering it. After a few more bows, my parents figured out that I was saying, "Thank you ladies and gentlemen, nice to be on your show." I was prepared for my debut and at least I was going to be polite when it finally came.

The rest of the story is that the audience really lost it when they figured out what I was saying (I couldn't have been more than 2 years old.) But even then I knew how an audience should react to certain material. I knew they weren't supposed to be laughing so hard. So I instructed them in proper audience etiquette by saying, "That was a little bit funny, not a lot funny." I lost them again. I guess I was funnier than I realized.

My performances branched out to include other songs and other acts. I still love Karaoke, though I'm neither as cute nor as funny as I used to be. But it was Bingo that started it all.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Gameapalooza

Games Night started a little slow, but like the fabled tortoise, it just seemed to keep going with no end in sight. Including myself, we had 12 people hanging out and playing games. I set up a card table (the very same card table that was given to me by Sporty Nice, her sister and her husband) in one area and made my kitchen table available as a secondary game site.

Top Model, A Woman Like That (Sporty Nice's sister's new nickname - it's a line from the song that plays as her ringtone), AWLT's husband (whose nickname is still stewing) and I played Scrabble. (Except A Woman Like That didn't play, I just needed a way to introduce her nickname.) I don't know what the final score was. I bingo'd on a triple word score (my third triple word score) to go out. Any question who won? I almost felt guilty.

While we were playing Scrabble, a game of Mexican Train dominos got started in the kitchen. I checked up on them a couple of times, but don't know who won. I got caught up in a conversation about photography when our room started playing Pictionary. My friend Like a Sailor (as in ... well, you know the saying) is into photography, but I'd never seen any of his work. He brought in a few pieces for me to look at - very nice, all black & white. The shocking thing is that it's all digital. I have to admit that I was completely fooled. I pride myself on being able to tell the difference. I couldn't tell with his work. (T, you and I may have to give in to the pressure.) It also turns out that Hoops is a photographer. Naturally, she didn't come to my house for the first time with photos in hand, so she's supposed to send me the link to her site. (Kimi, make sure that happens, please.)

I got in on the tail end of the Pictionary game by taking Mandy Moore's spot when she left. We lost, but I'm not taking the blame for it. Come on, you can't get "plump" from a drawing of a fat person, a skinny person, a "sounds like" drawing of a small fruit and an old-fashioned plum-line that is NOT a pendulum? Give me a break, people.

After Pictionary broke up, most of the gang went home. A few die hards stayed to play Nertz. What a fun game! I ended up winning, but not by much. A Woman Like That was hot on my heels, closer than any other person has been in a long time. If you've never played Nertz before, let me tell you, it gets vicious, especially with four decks playing. AWLT stood for most of the game. Top Model kept commenting about the table moving towards her. AWLT was pushing it towards her every time she reached over to play cards across the table. When I opened my pantry to get breakfast out this (mid)morning, the door almost hit the table. At first I couldn't figure out who had moved it. Then I thought of AWLT, smiled and moved it back into position.

A few more people left, leaving only the complete morons (what's more extreme than a die hard?): Top Model, Like a Sailor, A Woman Like That, her husband and I played Mexican Train dominoes. Here's the thing. This is not a quick game. It lasts for quite a while. We started it pretty late. I don't know if it was the constantly resupplied beverages or what, but in retrospect, it seemed to take even longer than usual. I guess we were distracted by all the laughing. As much as I like games and competition, I usually do not do well at this game. I came in second behind AWLT. Her poor husband's score looked like he thought we were playing Gin Rummy.

What I'm really trying to say is that Games Night turned into Games Morning. The last group didn't leave my house until 3:30. I got in bed around 4 and believe it or not, couldn't immediately fall asleep. I got about 6 hours of sleep last night. As I sit here typing this, I find myself getting very sleepy. I'm done and done.

Paper or Cloth?

How do you plan a party? How do you select the supplies for the party - things like plates, cups, napkins? What's the first thing that comes to your mind when you see oversized, white, seashell-embossed napkins? At what age do you stop using paper towels and start using napkins? Does the process of harvesting small Asain children in order to produce party napkins turn you off from buying a particular brand?

Kimi Stewart was invited to "host" a market research party on Saturday. She invited 4 of her friends along for the fun and cash prizes. We talked deeply and openly about our feelings on napkins. Our feelings ranged the gamut, from the die hard Paper Towel Lover (Kimi's ex-roommate's new nickname) to Kimi-I-bought-these-pretty-napkins-cause-they-matched-my-blouse (too long to be her new nickname). Hoops and I were somewhere in between, though she was adamant that white napkins are too plain for her.

So I learned a few things during our conversation.

1. Dinner should always be special, every time you sit down.
2. You can tell whether or not people have statues of ducks in their front yard by the napkins they buy.
3. Wrapping silverware in paper napkins is gay.
4. Putting ribbon around paper napkin-wrapped silverware sets is even gay-er.
5. Plastic plates are a worse affront to civility than paper towels. A person who owns something like that probably also owns a double wide.
6. Kimi Stewart is throwing weekly (or monthly) parties that I'm not getting invited to. Huh.

Friday, July 21, 2006

Thanks, Anonymous Comcast Subscriber

pneu-mon-ic:
1. Of, affecting, or relating to the lungs; pulmonary.
2. Relating to, affected by, or similar to pneumonia.

mne-mon-ic:
1. Assisting or intended to assist memory
2. Of or relating to memory

Stupid double consonent combinations where "n" is the second letter that are pronounced almost identically!

Scientists Discover That They Need to Go to TMS

According to this link, scientists have only recently discovered that we gesture with our voices. "Nusbaum coauthored a paper in the Journal of Memory and Language that reported on a group of experiments said to provide the first evidence of "analog acoustic expression" -- people unconsciously modulating their voices in ways that provide an additional channel of expression understood by others."

Duh. It's called pace, power and pitch. Every kid at the Hall knows that. Seriously. They're just now discovering this? I'm dumbstruck.

Hoops

Kimi told me a story about how she started calling one of her new friends Hoops. (Welcome Hoops.) It reminded me of a story that I wrote out to her (Kimi) in email. The story turned out to be interesting enough for me to instead post it here. If Reni-belle is still reading this thing, she's the reason I decided to post it:

Your "Hoops" story reminds me of a similar story of my own. Reni and I went to a party in College Park (very close to Evander Holyfield's house) back when we were maybe 18/19. I don't know how she got invited, but I think she only knew one person there. I didn't know anyone. We ended up being the only white people in the whole place - and it was a pretty big party. We met so many people and several of the guys were pretty cool. We ended up hanging out with this one set of guys for most of the night. I'm so bad with names when I first meet people. But this night I really made an effort to remember their names. One of them was named Mike and he was wearing a University of Miami t-shirt/sweatshirt. He became "Miami Mike." It's not like he was a huge fan of Miami or had ever lived there. But he was forever branded in my head as Miami Mike. About 4 years later, I ran into him at work. He'd started working in one of our warehouses. Even after working with him for a couple of years, I still thought of him as Miami Mike. Thankfully, I never called him that to his face. But to this day, I can't think of his last name. Just that stupid pneumonic device.
As a footnote to this story, I later went on to attend Pioneer School with the brother who threw that party. I think Reni and I got invited to a few more of his parties. I don't remember going to any others and eventually he had to stop throwing such huge parties. If you've ever been to a convention and heard one booming voice singing out louder and longer than anyone else in the arena ... that's the former party master himself. I heard him this summer at my convention (even though I knew it wasn't his scheduled convention). I didn't see him until the very end of the day. I just laughed and told him that I'd been looking for him since I'd heard him during the first song.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Hump Day Photo

Wow. I haven't posted a photo in a stinking long time. Here's one to tide you over. [Pun intended.]

I call it "Tread Lightly." Please do so in your comments.

It was inspired by a much better photo shot by T. I wish I could link to her photo so that you could see how great it is.

Welcome Newbies

I think there may be a couple of new people skulking about. Kimi Stewart is prostelitizing about my blog and how funny I am. Well, let's just get this out of the way: I will never live up to the hype. I have my moments, but the vast majority of this blog is filled with hackneyed drivel.

The second thing you need to know is: Lurkers are creepy. If you find yourself reading the blog on a fairly regular basis, please give me a shout out by leaving a comment. Call me names, ask me to update more frequently, tell me how much funnier you'd be if you had your own blog, whatever - just comment.

Third, and most important of all: Don't be offended by your blog nickname. It's a badge of honor, wear it proudly. Of course, if you never comment, you won't get a nickname. So ... no badge for you. Your loss.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Oh, We're Playing THOSE Kinds of Games!

You can pretty much ignore everything I wrote in my last post. It turns out I was an unwitting pawn in a little email game. The second guy who asked me what kinds of games we are going to play was setting me up. It looks like I didn't give him enough credit, a mistake I do not mean to duplicate.

I got your number now.

Bring. It. On.

(I will admit, though, that it took a tag team to outwit me.)

Playing with Boys

Games. I thought guys played them. Evidently, I'm wrong.

No, I'm not talking about psychological games. I'm talking about real games, with rules and dice and cards and timers. I'm having people over on Saturday night to play games - board games, Dominos, card games, whatever. As always, I sent out an Evite invitation. The first guy to respond said that he might come. Fine, he probably has another invitation and is trying to figure out how to politely say no to one of us.

The next "guy" to get the invitation was I Dunno. His response? "What kind of games are we going to play?" Dude, you're 14. I'm inviting you to hang out with a bunch of cool older people. Does it matter what kind of games we're going to play? If you have a better invitation, take it. If you've got nothing else to do, come over to my house and at least eat pizza.

The third guy was our beloved Polyglot. Naturally, he just said, "Detail? I don't need any details. I'm there. I don't care what we're doing." Granted, I still have to get him there. Since I just found out that he's going to have fun family in town this weekend, that may be prove to be a little more difficult. But of course they are more than welcome to join us.

So this leaves the last guy. His response? "What kinds of games are we going to play?" Say that again, 'cause you sounded just like my 14 year old nephew. Am I missing something here? Do guys really not like games? All of my girlfriends tell me that they're excited about an evening of playing games. All my guy friends from the past have seemed to enjoy it. But now it looks like I've uncovered a deep dark secret.

Boys don't like to lose. If they think there's a chance that they will lose, they won't even show up.

Wow. That's how I feel about psychological games - not board games. Lighten up dudes.

Oops, there is one more guy. I'll either get an email from him asking who I am ('cause he never remembers me) or asking what games we're going to play.

I guess girls are just more fun! (And The Polyglot!)

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

A Friend Older Than Oohwah

Almost. I got a phone call on Sunday evening from a 9xx area code. Thinking that a 9xx area code meant Southern Cal, I answered expecting it to be Sporty Nice. A woman's voice said, "HnB? (Not really, she used my real name.) This is a call from the past. Do you recognize my voice?" I dug around in my memory but nothing bubbled up. "Uh, no - sorry." Then she told me her name.

WOW! She is one of my three oldest friends - ever. I typically think of Infectious Laughter as my oldest friend since she is my cousin and I don't recall ever meeting her - she was always just part of my life. But I also don't recall meeting this girl. She was one of two friends I had in South Florida. We moved to Florida when I was 19 months old. She moved away when I was 7-ish. She and another girl from that congregation were just always my friends as far as I knew. I don't know when we became friends.

So anyway, no, I did not recognize her voice considering that I hadn't heard it since she was 8-ish. But it's funny. She's got one of those names like mine. It's familiar enough that you've heard it before. But it's not quite common enough for you to have had more than one friend bearing it. So when she revealed her name to me, all she had to say was her first name (and I could have done the same to her). I instantly knew who she was - not a wasted second processing the information.

We chatted for an all too brief 15 minutes. She caught me up on her life in a dazzling butterfly-ish flit from topic to topic kind of way. My head was kinda spinning trying to keep pace with her. She got my email address and promised to write. But I still haven't heard from her. I at least want to get her address. I mean, you know me, it's not like I'm going to keep up by sending email on a regular basis. But I feel comfortable knowing that she's just a couple of clicks away if I ever get the urge to write.

The really odd thing is that despite the fact that I haven't seen or spoken to her in 25 years, I was literally thinking about her LAST WEEK! There is a person in my new area who, for reasons I won't go into, reminds me of her. So she's been on my mind and last week I was wondering where she is. I guess I got my answer.

Monday, July 17, 2006

Where the Bleep is My Bleeping Movie?

Movies. They're far too violent and obscene today. Last week, a Federal court ruled that that was a good thing. A case which has been in court for at least three years was finally concluded, in my opinion, to the detriment of decency.

Sixteen directors sued four editing companies for removing violent, sexual and obscene content out of their (and all) movies. The legal claim is that the editors do not have the right to change copyrighted material without the prior consent of the creator of that content.

As a movie-watcher, I completely disagree with the directors. Movies can have great storylines, minus a couple of objectionable scenes and words, and stay true to their overall "vision." There are several movies that I think of as "favorites" but which I have never seen the original R-rated version:

The Ghost in the Darkness
The Shawshank Redemption
Shining Through
Office Space
The Matrix
Vanilla Sky
The Game

There are plenty more. But I listed these specifically because they have been played, in an edited version, on TV. Who gets with the TV networks to review the edits they make before airing a movie? Does Spielberg sit down with the editors at NBC to tell them exactly where they can make their cuts? I'm not in TV, but it doesn't seem likely to me that he does. Who oversees the edits that are made so that movies can be seen on an airplane? Again, I'm betting it's not the big time director.

The other big argument is that the editing company should not get paid to distribute a work that does not belong to them. Well, since none of the studios would cooperate with them, these editing companies have to buy the original movies at RETAIL prices. Rental companies own a real copy of the movie for each edited copy in their possession. They do not rob anyone of any income. The monthly rental fee is comparable to Netflix, despite having to pay higher prices for each copy of their movies.

Yes, the editing companies do charge higher prices to sell the edited versions of the movies. But it is clear in the contract that the price the consumer pays above retail is for the editing service. Technically, the consumer could buy the DVD on their own, ship it to the editing service and have them make their edits. The editing company would then return the original DVD and the edited copy. But to cut down on shipping costs, the editing company has agreed to purchase the original DVD on the consumer's behalf.

So, the government is telling you that you can't edit or alter something that you purchased. Imagine if this same principle were applied to clothing. I mean, there are a lot of big names out there in the fashion industry. What if they decided that you could no longer alter the clothes that you purchased? No hemming. No removing annoying little appliques. No adding straps. No adding pleats. No removing shoulder pads. No ... nothing. Altering a garment in any way destroys the artistic vision of the designer. After all, the designer's label is on that piece of clothing. If you alter the garment in any way, you've ruined their desired effect.

Sound ridiculous? It's the same thing.

As a photographer (and artiste), I've tried to see it from their point of view. But try as I might, I can't reconcile it. Once I sell a photo, I have no control over where it goes. If someone wants to cut it up into bizarre shreds and paste it back together as a completely new work of art, I can't stop them - as long as they cite me. If I sell a black and white photo and someone hand colors it to hang in their home, I can't force them to take it down and give it back to me. As long as they identify that they have altered the work, they are free to hang it in their home. So the question becomes, "Do they then have the right to apply the same alterations to other copies of my photos and sell it to their friends or strangers?"

Again, the reality is that if their friends bought my photos and brought them to the other artist to receive the treatment, I couldn't do anything about it. If the artist cut out the step of having other people buy my photo and just bought it themselves to alter and sell? I don't know. I probably wouldn't like it. But again, they are not simply presenting this as my work. Everyone who buys the work knows that it has been altered. It is, in fact, the alteration that makes the resultant photo appealing to them. No audience at all or an altered audience? Well, the truth is that there would be both - lots of people would buy my original photo and keep it the way it is and a very small handful would buy the altered version. I say let the little altered audience live.

The best solution for this, of course, is for studios to release these TV and airplane edits themselves. In the long run, it would serve all audiences and be a heck of a lot cheaper. My fear, though, is that the studios won't do this. Shouldn't these people (of all people) want to exploit any sliver of a market that exists?

Anyway, for now, the rental service was supposed to shut down last week. So far, I'm still getting my movies. I pared my rental list down to only R-rated movies that I won't get to see any other way. I've also ordered several movies. I haven't heard back about my order yet, so I'm not certain it will go through.

This isn't Good Soup!

GSAM fell apart last weekend because The Polyglot and Kimi Stewart had a work thing to go to. I also think people are getting tired of the same old same old. So I didn't try to force anyone into going with me. Instead, I was invited to join some other people for "all you can eat catfish." Since all I can eat of catfish is less than one bite, I wasn't too excited about the prospect. But they assured me that I could order some thing other than catfish. And I really wanted to hang out with these people...so I bucked up and went.

I was invited by Sporty Nice's sister and her husband. I really hadn't spent much time with either of them until I helped her put together the going away party for Sporty Nice. It turns out that they're really fun people. In fact, I really like Sporty Nice's brother-in-law. Who'da thunk that a short fat white girl and a tall attractive athletic black guy would have had similar not-fitting-in school experiences?

It was also fun to get to know the other people at dinner. I had spent absolutely no time around one of the couples. We know a lot of the same people. In fact, I think one of my favoritest people of all time performed their wedding. (One of Super Mom's old boyfriends that I was convinced I was going to grow up to marry.) And the other person at dinner was a brother I've talked to a little bit. I know his parents pretty well. I don't know his wife at all, so I was looking forward to getting to know her, but she was out of town.

Can I just say, men talk more than women? At least these guys do...

Public Service Announcement # 34

Rotate Your Tires
Do you like to go out with your friends? Do you like to buy new clothes? Do you like cable TV? Do you like to eat? Then take it from me...rotate your tires. Have your brakes checked. Change your oil. If you wait to do all these things at the same time, it will end up costing more than the cruise you're planning to take in December.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

I Don't Think So Tim*

*The title of this post is a quote from the character Al on "Home Improvement." T's dad loves to use this quote as a creative way of saying, "I think you're full of crap." It is in no way a reflection on a nice fellow named Tim that I just met a few days ago.

I read stories that Reuters posts under the heading "Oddly Enough." Today one of the stories is about the 10 best pick-up lines used around the world. Since I try to keep an eye on global happenings, I thought I'd take a gander at the lines.

The gist of the story is that some publisher has compiled these lines and translated them into at least 5 other languages. [sing-songy stage whisper]I know what my next gift to The 'Glot is gonna be...[/sing-songy voice] The story doesn't list all 10 of the lines, but here are a few:
  • Was your father a thief? Because he stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes.
  • Didn't it hurt when you fell from heaven?
  • You must be tired because you've been running through my mind all day.
  • The only things your eyes haven't told me is your name.
Seriously, ladies. Aren't you just dying to hear these lines?

Let's make up some of our own, shall we? Surely we can write comparable pick-up lines for men.
  • You remind me of Gallagher.
  • How did you get your hair so nice and thin on top?
  • I bet you kiss as good as my uncle.
  • I don't mind at all that your boobs are bigger than mine.
  • You'd make a great dad - you already have the wardrobe.
  • Is that your paycheck? Aww, it's so cute.
  • You look like you need a hug ... and my mom is dying to give you one.
That's it. That's my list of "great" pick-up lines that the ladies can use on the mens. But I have to admit that I cheated on the first two. My friend Chewy actually uttered those two lines to my sister Super Mom ... as woefully misguided compliments. Maybe he should have tried one of the "10 Best Pick-Up Lines" instead.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

I'm not living up to my blogging bargain

I wanted to apologize to all 4(?) of my readers for not being very funny recently. Most of my best humor recently has been reserved for random under-the-breath comments during movies and/or sent off in private email messages. Lord, even I am getting bored by these weekend update type posts I've been making. I will see if I can do better in future. I have at least one more World Cup post to write. Then I will lay off soccer for a little while. (Yeah, not likely. I'm hooked. I've already picked out my favorite club for the new season of English Premier League Football. But that is also for a separate post.) I also promise to stop talking about the posts I'm going to write and just concentrate on making the current post I'm writing the wittiest it can be.

I also need to get back to posting a Hump Day Photo. I'll see what I can dig up for this week - maybe even on Hump Day.

Perhaps you can make a request and I'll write something witty around that to get my creative juices flowing... (But not overflowing, no one wants to clean up a sticky pile of creative juices off the floor. Eww. That's just nasty.)

Bowing to the Demands of Chinette

A paper plate told me to blog yesterday. I ignored it. It was still there, taunting me, when I came home last night. I am finally complying.

GSAM on Friday night was ... hectic. There were just a tad too many of us at the restaurant. They were all people that I like and have wanted to invited. The main problem was that everyone arrived at different times. The last couple came in a full hour after the first set sat down. The place was also a little more full than usual, so the waitress and kitchen were very harried. Also, the fish special was n-a-s-t-y.

I know better than to order fish "out." I mean, if I'm ordering fish, I will be dang certain that it is precisely what I want. There's no way I'd get it from the Thai place, no matter how much I love the Thai place. But at least four people ordered it and were woefully disappointed. I felt so bad because two of them were new to the restaurant. I feel personally responsible for this place and always want it to make a favorable impression. It did not make a favorable impression on one half of the table.

The other two newbies on "our" end of the table seemed to like it just fine. 2 out of 4 ain't that bad.

We watched a really long movie that turned out to not be as exciting on the second viewing as I thought it would be - "Pirates of the Carribean." I've talked to everyone since then and I think we were all fighting back yawns. All except The Polyglot, that is. That boy was driving me nutters saying every line of the movie. He thought he could get away with just moving his mouth and not actually uttering any syllables. But he obviously doesn't know how phenomenal my hearing is. I was literally about to banish him to the kitchen but he decided to behave himself just in time. No parlay for him!

Saturday was a complete bore. I watched Germany beat Portugal. That was good, though lonely - everyone else seemed to have plans.

Sunday was exciting. I caught the last half of THE MATCH at my friends' house. (These people need nicknames. They need GREAT nicknames. Nothing GREAT is coming to mind. They're almost too cool for nicknames.) The Polyglot, I Dunno and another couple watched with them. (I'll post separately about THE MATCH.)

After the match, I went to dinnner with the two couples and my brother and his wife. It was fun, particularly since the COOL couple are leaving this week and will be gone for two months. But it was also weird since these two couples are really good friends with my brother and his wife. I've never been in the same social circle as my brother. He was married by the time I was 12 and then had his first kid when I was 13. So we haven't ever really "hung out" together. (My sisters were both single until I was in my late teens and early twenties. And I lived with them - so I definitely was in their social circle even though there is an age difference.) It's hard to explain, it's just a little odd.

Anyway, after the nice but odd dinner, Kimi Stewart came over and we watched "My Date With Drew." This is one of my favorite-ist movies ever. It's so fun and inspiring. You feel like you can do anything after you've seen it. I would love to make it a GSAM selection, but I'm never sure that other people will like it as much as I do. (My brother-in-law's mother hated it and walked out half-way through. She grumbled about the main guy being a loser who just needed to get a job. I guess she didn't find it very inspiring.)

Kimi then spent the night with me. Yay. I hope the futon was comfortable.

Friday, July 07, 2006

Usin' the SkyMiles!

With all the talk about Delta possibly going out of business, I've been very worried about the almost 200K SkyMiles I've racked up. Welp, worry no more. I'm going to California twice this year. Once to leave for a cruise at the end of the year. But before that, I'm heading out to see Sporty Nice for her convention.

I'm very excited. It's always fun to travel, make new friends and catch up with old friends. (Not that at this precise moment I have much to catch up with Sporty Nice on.)

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Sporty Spice

First, I want to comment on her nickname. By no means does this friend look, sound or dress like the Spice Girl of the same name. However, she is by far the most athlectic woman I know. This name popped into my head a while ago and I am glad to finally unveil it (and her).

So anyway, Sporty Spice is a really really nice girl (woman?). (I never know how to refer to single ladies around my age. I still think of myself as a girl, but I don't want to offend them if they think of themselves as women.) She was probably the first person to befriend me in my new congregation. In fact, she was so nice and welcoming that I was convinced The Doctor had told her some sob story about how pathetically I needed friends. Truth is, I was so pathetic that it didn't matter to me if she was befriending me out of pity. Someone was being nice to me and I wasn't about to turn my nose up at it.

Maybe her name should be Sporty Nice? Yep, I think I like that better.

I think the first social thing I did with the Roswell crowd was to hang out with Sporty Nice and her friend Top Model (you don't have to think very hard to know who that is). We played cards with an older couple at a restaurant on a Friday night. Friday Game Night became a "thing" for a while around here, though I somehow never got back to it. (Even Sporty Nice and Top Model eventually stopped going.) But that first evening was a lot of fun and I learned to play Canasta, a game I'd always wondered about.

Sporty Nice and I weren't attached at the hip (good thing, 'cause she's a head taller than me). But I enjoy her company and think she's a stellar person. And now she's gone - moved on to greener (and I do mean greener-backed) pastures. But something tells me that I'll keep in touch with her. If not in person, at least through this blog.

Welcome to the blog Sporty Nice. Have a look around, check out the archives and most importantly, leave your comments.