I *Heart* My Job…

When the head of your department leaves the workgroup a voicemail to advise that the department upstairs will be having a Guitar Hero battle from 3-5 on Friday, and things might get a little noisy, I have to chuckle.

Not only is it pretty cool to work for a company that will have in-house happy hours every few months, but to work someplace where they promote healthy video game competition amongst your peers…that’s just frickin’ AWESOME!

Now, where do I sign up? I play a MEAN guitar…
*red red green blueblueblueblueblue WHAMMIE BARRRRRRR!*

dire rift scarves actor corollary

Today I received a very special email from one Sebastian Randolph. It read:

“bergen gobbledygook cheer? respire, picky rift.

gigabit imponderable midstream cheer stratton beatify, member

christ midstream hightail midstream committing.

 

yachtsman spree imponderable

 

christ corollary stratton? fox, brisbane activism.

collision hightail midstream spree scarves dire, naval

shrink paucity fox caret stratton.

 

gobbledygook activism committing

 

observation naval midstream? dire, yachtsman bergen.

 

brisbane clause.”

 

So, without further ado, I typed up this quick response:

“clock paper thumb. sandal marionette iguana?
special envelope headphones! balloon calendar sticky…

texas super note, via scissors umbrella.

picture.”

How Sebastian’s initial email ended up in my Junk Mail folder in the first place, I’ll never know…

BTW, uh WTF? kind of email was that, anyway? (Don’t worry, I didn’t acutally respond…but I did get a chuckle out of it.)

…but next time, WITH COSTUMES!

San Diego Comic-Con 2008 was my first con…and I think it is safe to say, it will NOT be my last. I had so much fun, it’s hard to put into words. Sure, I was by myself, the lines were long, the fans were crazy, the food was ridiculously expensive ($3 for WATER!), the AC was cranked to high heaven, and the crowds were a bit oppressive at times–but that isn’t stopping me for next year! A fellow blogger put out there that we blog friends should make a point to rally in San Diego for SDCC 2009, and I wholeheartedly agree! So, put it on your calendar now, folks: July 23-26, 2009 San Diego Comic-Con 40th Anniversary! (And might I suggest making your hotel reservation NOW…buddy up to keep the rates low and book a room at the Marriott.)

Now that we’ve all agreed on that point, I suppose I should mention that in ‘09, we’re going all out: COSTUMES! Now that I’ve witnessed first hand the absolute absurdity hilarity AWESOMENESS of grown men and women dressing up as their favorite anime/sci-fi/comic book/television/cartoon characters, I think it would be SUPER FUN to join their ranks and dress up too. So start thinking up your costume…here’s a few more pics, to get those creative juices flowing:

There were a LOT of Boba Fetts roaming the pavillion...

Spartans (if only there had been 300 of THESE guys...)

Green Lantern (Billy, I nominate this costume for YOU!)

Bumblebee--yes, there's a PERSON in that thing!

GROWN MEN, I say!

I got dibbs on this one...

TMNT...cowabunga!

If you're shy, remember: No one has to see your face!!

Even if you aren't that creative/daring, just get a good skull mask.

Apparently, Sabretooth eats hotdogs…and rides a hog.

So, it’s day three of Comic-Con 2008 and I’m sitting in my hotel room resting my feet before heading back to the exhibit hall for the Masquerade–no I’m not IN IT, but there’s no way I’m missing all those costumes! Before I continue, I think it is worth mentioning that as I type this, the theme song from Super Mario Brothers (the original–”Boop boop boop, boop boop be-boop…”) is floating through my open window from the street below. Only at Comic-Con…

Anyway, there are many many posts in the works describing my time over the past few days, and I know it will take me quite some time to go through all the photos (I took over 300 yesterday alone) and sum up all the funny stories I’ve heard. But I thought in the meantime, you might appreciate a little nibble of photos, a couple of brushes with fame that I couldn’t catch on film, and my “You’re kidding!” moment of the day:

1) The exhibit hall is a CROWDED place! And depending on what is going on in the booths at any given time–in addition to the strollers, lurkers, and picture takers that generally muck up the aisles–it can be difficult to navigate through the maze of people. Sometimes, you’ve just got to spot an opening and go for it…being careful not to knock over the short people in the process. Which is what I almost did to Anthrax founder Scott Ian. He’s a short dude! I said “Sorry!”, he said “No worries!”, and then dissappeared into the crowd again. SCOTT IAN! From frickin’ ANTHRAX!! It all happened so fast, there was no way to even snap a candid photo…

2) Despite the fact that there are half a dozen or more concessions stands located in the exhibit hall, there always seems to be a 15 minute wait in line for food. There’s really no good time to go, so you’ve just got to get in line and wait it out…growing more and more hungry by the minute. But if you’re lucky, interesting celebrities (or a dozen Darth Vaders) will meander past you while you wait. If you’re me, you’ll get in line behind one and not even know it. I should have known something was up when 3 people came up to the dude in line in front of me and asked to take his picture. He was tall and burly looking, with long wavy blond hair and mutton chops, fingers adorned with silver skull rings. The equally-clueless guy behind me asked him if he rode motorcycles, to which he replied that he had both a Harley and some other kind of custom bike and that, yes, they were quite dangerous–but also very fun to ride. I followed him all the way through the line (he got a hot dog, as did I) before I clued in to who he was…none other than Tyler Mane, aka Sabretooth from the movie X-Men. When the cashier rang me up and said “Dude, you were in line behind Sabretooth!” and the lightbulb finally went off in my head, my hands were full of food and he had already disappeared into the crowd. Nuts!

3) My “No kidding!” moment of the day came when I sat in on author Joe Hill’s panel. Joe’s compilation of short stories, 20th Century Ghosts, is an excellent read for any who love the macabre, horror, or just plain creepy. His first full length novel, Heart-Shaped Box, wasn’t quite as good as his short stories (in my opinion), but Joe has a unique voice and talent for writing that I’ll continue to keep an eye on his work (especially his comic series Lock & Key). As I was sitting waiting for Joe to begin the panel, watching him shuffle his notes around before stepping up to the microphone, I thought to myself “Why does he look so familiar? He definitely looks like someone…but I can’t put my finger on it.” About 10 minutes later, I decided that I thought he looked a little like the Master of Horror himself, Stephen King, and I thought how it might come off as something short of a compliment were I to approach him and say, “Hey Joe! Has anyone ever told you that you look a little like Stephen King?” After all, King is not exactly an attractive guy, and I would say that beneath the beard and glasses, Hill falls into the “decent looking” category.
Anyway, I put the thought aside until the question and answer period, when someone in the audience asked him about how he got his break. Joe talked briefly about how he’d written several novels, none of which he could get published, but he refused to give up or give in to the pressure. “At one point I called my mom and said, ‘What am I going to do?’. And she replied, ‘You’re going to write another novel.’,” Joe explained. Then added, almost as an aside: “I mean, my parents write, so I figured it was the best advice I could get.” From somewhere behind me, a woman laughed and said, “No, really?!”. He went on to explain how he’d made the decision early on to go it alone, to escape from under the high-flying banner of his family name by writing under the pen name ‘Joe Hill’. “I didn’t even tell my agent my real name for ten years…and even then, it was only because it came out on the internet,” Joe explained. So who are his famous writer parents, and what is Joe Hill’s real last name? Oh…KING! As in Stephen King. I felt like a dummy…
ME: “Hey Joe, has anyone ever told you that you look like Stephen King?”
JOE: “Um, well he IS my dad….”

And here’s a few pics to whet your appetite:

Vader and friend

Should I know who this is?

Batman, Scarecrow, and a Joker....naturally

Jack Bauer

Jewel State (Dr. Keller from Stargate: Atlantis)

The cast of Stargate: SG1 (including Beau Bridges, Ben Browder, Michael Shanks, Amanda Tapping, show creator Brad Wright, and Richard Dean Anderson)

Oh. My. God.

August cannot come too soon.

“Hello, PETA? I’d like to report a crime…”

After the events of this past weekend, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if PETA were to come knocking on my door…I’m sure if Pippin had his way, they’d be here already. You remember Pippin, my orange Persian who just so happens to be the coolest cat in the world? Well, he’s still cool…but in a completely different sense of the word.

As temperatures soared well into the 80s this past weekend, temps in the condo got a little uncomfortable as well, despite the fact that we really don’t get any direct sun during the day. With no airconditioning, it’s all we can do to keep the air circulating with fans and cross breezes–and even then, it zaps the life out of you. Clothes come off (oh stop it, sickos), popsicles get eaten by the dozens, and life’s pace creeps to a slow c-r-a-w-l. So imagine what it might be like for poor Pippin, covered in all that fur:

Needless to say, I needed to take steps to make things a little more comfortable for Pip, so we went for a little car ride. Normally a big fan of rides in the car, if he had known what fate awaited him at the end of this particular trip, I’m sure Pip would not have been so eager to tag along. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves (roll over the pics to read the captions):

  

  

So yes, Pippin got his first haircut…and it was quite an ordeal. The first ten minutes were ok, as he was caught quite off guard and didn’t really know what was happening or what he could do about it. But once he figured out what was going on, he was PISSED! Hissing and growling and thrashing about, it got harder and harder to keep him still so we could make his new ‘do’ even. But in the end, we prevailed…a MOUND of orange fur littered the floor, and Pippin wouldn’t look at me.

So what does he look like now? Well, skinny and wrinkly with a LOT of loose skin…kinda like a lion. See for yourself:

I AM a good mother….

Oh, and a BIG shout out goes to Co-Worker’s Roomie…a vet tech with clippers (and Pippin’s new Nemesis).

Another nod to one wittier than I…

Every once in a while you stumble across a writer whose pure awesomeness is just….well, AWESOME! John Scalzi is one of those writers.

I was recently introduced to Scalzi’s work by Joe Mallozzi who, despite being one of the buissiest guys in showbusiness, still manages to read more than a few books a week, update his blog every day, and host an online “Book of the Month Club” which I am a part of. One of the club’s most recent reads was The Android’s Dream, which I would recommend to anyone with two eyes and the ability to read the english language. Don’t let the title fool you…there’s not a single android in all its 300+ pages–the title is actually a nod to the PKD novel Do Android’s Dream of Electric Sheep, from which the movie “Blade Runner” was adapted. But I digress. It is clever, funny, and has sheep in it. And let’s face it: who doesn’t love sheep?

For those of you who prefer to read little snippits of genius, I’d love to point you towards Scalzi’s blog, which he updates several times a day. My favorite post as of late, is his commentary on the Fox News “Obama’s Baby Mama” scandal: HILARIOUS! (WARNING! Reading his post is a choking hazzard. That said, click here.)

 ps…John Scalzi recently guest blogged on Joe’s site to answer BOTM clubber’s questions about The Android’s Dream. Check it out here.

There once was a boy…

…and he kind of “made my world” in college. He was funny and cute and talented, and for so long I held him up as the impossible standard to which all future boyfriends had to live up to. He was “The One” (*trumpets* *fanfare*)…until, of course, he wasn’t. Then he became “That Guy”—the one whose characteristics defined everything that a future boyfriend wasn’t, the source of all the lingering issues I had with myself and men in general. Now he’s just “I Wonder If They’re Pregnant Again” Guy, but I digress.

So when did “The One” turn into “That Guy”? Well, it started at a train station in Milan, and was official somewhere between Munich and Bavaria…

In the year after 9/11, The One was living abroad while I was finishing up my time at The University of Scholastic Regrets. We decided that his living situation was the perfect opportunity for the both of us to do a little traveling, so we planned to meet in Milan and spend several weeks traveling around Italy and Germany. The first part of our trip was a blast…I had just finished taking a class about the foundations of Ancient Europe, and around every twist and turn sprang a fountain, a sculpture, or a building that stood as testimony to the history I had studied for the last 3 months. Then, in Rome, the frustration started to set in:

ESSAYTCH: Wow, Trevi Fountain!
THE ONE (bored): Hurray, another fountain.
ESSAYTCH (incredulously): This just isn’t any old fountain! The Roman aqueduct system was one of many technological advances that set the Romans apart from the rest of the Byzantine world…building elaborate and ornate fountains at the endpoint of the aqueducts that brought fresh water into the city was a symbol of Roman power. This is COOL, man!
THE ONE: Wow, did you see that motorcycle?!?!?! AWESOME!!

Ok, so maybe I started to sound a little like Rick Steves. But nonetheless, it became obvious that the rich culture and living history that surrounded us was of more interest to me than it was to him…and this was unbelievable to me! I wanted to shake him a little and say “Do you like running water?! Do you appreciate not having to draw water from a polluted well or a river that also serves as your sewer?!?! Then thank the Romans, you dummy!!!” The One was starting to lose points in the “Cultural History” department. (This became shockingly apparent on our one day in Munich, when I took a day trip to Dachau while he toured an automobile manufacturing plant. Hmmmm…)

The “Cultural History” department wasn’t the only one he was rapidly losing points in. His performance in the “Don’t Be An Asshole” department was abysmal, but hey: who doesn’t love a guy that can have you crying into your wiener schnitzel in the middle of a German hofbrauhaus?

THE ONE:You know what I love about you, Essaytch? You always eat everything on your plate.
ESSAYTCH: Ummm…are you saying I eat too much?
THE ONE: No…uh…I mean, there’s no food you don’t like. You’ll eat anything!
ESSAYTCH: What?!?
THE ONE: That’s not to say you are chubby or anything…I’m just saying you’re not afraid to try new things. And even if you don’t like it, you’ll still eat it. You’re not picky.
HELGA THE WAITRESS: Can I get you somethings more?
ESSAYTCH (with a look that could kill): A body bag?

But the proverbial straw came in a Munich train station, when The One decided he wanted to buy a book to read on the train. He couldn’t remember the last time he had read something for fun (horror!), and wanted advice on what he should buy. The racks of fiction at the newsstand consisted of a diverse selection of Tom Clancy, Michael Crichton, and Nora Roberts novels…and I convinced him that he was most likely to enjoy something by Crichton. The next three hours went a little something like this:

THE ONE(excited): Oh my gosh! Ok, so in this book there is this guy, and he’s a scientist, and he’s figured out a way to make this time machine, except the time machine can only go to this one place in France in the year 1302 and some of the guys he sent got stuck there. So he’s trying to convince these archaeologists to go in the time machine to find them, and he says…(proceeds to read a page of dialogue from the book).
ESSAYTCH (putting down my own engrossing novel to listen to him): Wow, that sounds pretty interesting.
*10 minutes go by*
THE ONE(more excited): Holy crap! Ok, so you know how the guy was trying to convince the archaeologists to go in the time machine? Listen to this! (again, two more pages of dialogue read out loud)
ESSAYTCH(getting annoyed but trying to hide it): See, I knew you would like the book!
*10 more minutes go by*
THE ONE(beside himself with glee): You’re not going to believe this! Ok, so the guy…
ESSAYTCH (interrupting): You know, I think I’ll read it when you are done. I wouldn’t want you to spoil the plot!
THE ONE:Oh, ok. You’re going to love it!
ESSAYTCH: I’m sure I will…

So while it seemed he was losing points in the “Cultural History” and “Don’t Be An Asshole” departments, he was more than making up for it in the “Me Tarzan; You Jane” department. You’d have thought he had never read a novel before in his entire life…or at least one that wasn’t part of an assignment for school. And for a gal that reads several books a month on average (often at the same time), this just wasn’t going to work out.

By the time I got back to the states, “The One” had become “That Guy”. And as soon as he got back to the states, he bought a leaf blower (“This is seriously the coolest thing EVER!”) and balance was restored to the Universe.

 

Who’s BRILLIANT idea was that?!

As a child, I used to daydream about how cool it would be to be a teenager. Driving a car. Pulling up to the bank and putting my own money in one of those nifty pods that got sucked through a tube into my account (seriously…I thought this was the most awesome thing ever!). Having a job and a boyfriend. Going to High School, to Prom, to football games with my face painted. Then as a teenager, I would daydream about how cool it would be to be an adult. Driving a car that I actually owned myself. Moving to another city to live on my own, with total autonomy from my parents. To be a homeowner, have credit cards, drink at bars, throw dinner parties for my scores of fabulous friends. To fall in love, get married, and start having babies….all by the ripe old age of 25.

Well, here I am at 29…and let’s just say life didn’t exactly turn out to be as “cool” as I’d imagined it:

-That car that I drive? Yeah…I own it. I’ll be making the payments on it for the next 5 years, too. And considering I just payed through the nose to have the engine practically rebuilt, my dreams of having a ‘newer’ car have been flushed down the toilet.

-Total autonomy from my parents? Well, considering I find myself calling them once every few months saying “Uh, Mom? Can I borrow $50?”…I would say total autonomy is a work in progress.

-Credit Cards? Ha ha ha! WHAT credit cards? I made that mistake in college, and fortunately for me, my new credit score prevents me from making that mistake again. And since we’re on the topic…did anyone else miss that day in school where they told you not to screw up your credit score, because you would be Black Listed across the entire universe? Apparently I missed Fiscal Responsibility 101, and now there is no going back.

-Owning a home? Not in THIS lifetime!!! I find it utterly amusing whenever I see adds that say “Brand New Downtown Condos: starting at only $500k!!!”, and when you look at the fine print, you see that $500k buys you a 600 square foot studio over a night club with a view of the dumpster in the back alley. No thanks…I’ll keep dumping my money into something I’m not permanently stuck with.

-Throwing dinner parties for my scores of fabulous friends? Ok, the dinner parties we do every once in a while, and they are fun. It’s the before and after parts that are a bummer in my opinion (read: cleaning up before the guests arrive and again after they leave). And the fabulous friends part is tricky: while they are fabulous, they do not number in ’scores’.

-Falling in love, getting married, and having babies…by 25?!?!?!! Ok, WHO came up with the idea that everyone has to get married straight out of college? And immediately start having babies, for that matter? Whenever we see those former friends of ours from college who chose that route, Roomie and I shoot each other a look that says “Thank GOD that’s not us!”. They just look so TIRED and wiped out…and generally, there’s this look in their eyes which I recognize as more than a little bit of envy of us still-single folks.

All this to say, my mind is boggled about where these BRILLIANT ideas came from in the first place. And despite all the statistics that say otherwise, why is the idea that you have to get married in your early 20s or there is something wrong with you still holding sway over our culture? Why is my mother so worried about the fact that I’m not dating a new guy every few months, auditioning potential husbands as it were?

Bottom line: I thank God every day that I didn’t marry the guy I thought I was ’supposed’ to marry; I’m grateful that I’m well traveled; I’m glad that I like who I am, and am not too worried about finding someone who will like me too; I’m glad I’m not in credit card debt up to my eyeballs, that I don’t have a house with a busted toilet that I can’t fix…and I’m forever grateful that I’m an independent woman who can stand on her own two feet, making her own decisions about what life at 30 and beyond should look like.

What would Brian Boitano do?

So, here I am working away at Fabulous New Job when I get an IM from someone in the office who just so happens to be a CRAZY PERSON. And she’s talking smack about a new co-worker that she has to work with (someone that I just so happen to be friends with–but she doesn’t know that). She basically puts in writing on IM her plans to sabotage this person by not training her or offering her help or advice as she transitions into her new role. Her reasoning? “No one helped me when I was in that position, so why should I help her?”

Uh, how about because it is the right thing to do?

How about because, when she screws up and gets called on the carpet by her manager, who inevitibly will ask “Didn’t Ms. Crazy Co-Worker train you on this?” (to which she will no doubt respond “No, actually Ms. Crazy Co-Worker hasn’t trained me on anything. I’ve been on my own.”), YOU will look like the douche-bag, and not her?

How about because, when you say in one sentence “I thought this would help foster a team environment” and then in another sentence you’re pledging to sabotage the new girl, you’re basically contradicting yourself and again looking like a douche-bag?

How about the fact that going around touting yourself as a strong Christian…well, we just won’t go there. No stone throwing here. But I’m just sayin’…

So I’m left asking, what would YOU do if you were me, on the other end of this IM conversation? What would Jesus do? Hell! WHAT WOULD BRIAN BOITANO DO???

 If only ALL the world’s problems could be solved by South Park…