Brainure

Childhood Reminiscing and Current Events

2025-06-20T16:20:00.002-04:00

In recent years, I've become hyperaware of my patterns and cycles, and going back through these old posts...damn, they're so highlighted, it's almost embarrassing. Almost.

In the past few weeks, there have been signs and synchronicities that ask the question:

"What were you into as a child?"

And just today, listening to a podcast, they were discussing being kids and tape recording silly skits and doing kid shows or writing interview scripts and recording them with their siblings and buddies.

As I was editing a couple of videos for Pulp City Magazine, I started thinking about my first Kodak camera, and commandeering my dad's tape recorder and writing silly plays and radio shows with my brother or just recording us while we played with matchbox cars and his racetracks, or with my bestie, April, while we played with my Grandpa Dollhouse or Barbies. Some of those dumb pics I still have. I wish I still had those tapes.

As soon as my mom's church, where she worked, updated her office computer, that old DOS machine became mine and came with a dot matrix printer. It looked like this one but had yellow/gold type.

I journaled on that thing for years and printed it all out before we updated our home computer. The printer wasn't calibrated and printed over the page perforations, so I have the 100+ pages all still mostly intact. Maybe we'll go down that memory lane for like, Throwback Thursdays or something.

It's been fun working at 903 Mills Market* and talking with the kids about how great a time it was to be alive during BetaMax vs VHS and dial-up internet and watching music flow from vinyl records, to 8-track tapes, to cassette tapes, to CDs, minidisk players, .WAV players to mp3 players (and listing all the streaming download sites), and then so many of us came back to vinyl.

Point is, I've always been into media.

In the past 10+ years, I've come through for a lot of you, but I've also failed on some projects because I let myself get distracted by life instead of focusing on the work.

I apologize to those of you I've failed or disappointed. I apologize to me too.

I admit to the self-sabotage and have been doing the work to make changes and put an end to certain cycles and patterns, and in turn, finding a peaceful balance and a renewed sense of ambition, motivation, and inspiration.

And so now, I'm on this incredible startup team for Pulp City and we did our first food feature yesterday and it feels so good to be back in it. I went in thinking it was just going to be me & Dom with a couple of cameras, and then, all of a sudden, we had a 4 person crew with so much being covered. It was an absolute dream come true. Seeing the footage they were getting and being able to put together a really good idea about how to cut it, and how great we all worked together.... It was just really inspiring and we're so excited to show you the things we've been working on. We're slated to launch next month for Orlando's 150th birthday!

If you're a local business owner or know someone with a local business, get in touch with us and we'll do something fun together!!!

---------------------------

*I'll tell you stories and introduce you to my 903 Mills Market family very soon. They're the best.

Now You're Just Somebody That Used To Blog

2025-06-15T18:45:00.082-04:00

First,

Whoa, guys.

Remember us back in the day?

I might be a li'l dizzy and full of reignited joy in this moment.

Is our spark sparkin'?

Napoleon Dynamite is on in the background. while I write this.

The last time I blogged here was 2018? Dang.

How've you been?

I just logged into here, fucked around, and found a writing from New Year 2019 that was pretty brutal to read.

It made me proud of my 2019 self to have written so much when things were just....not as they appeared in this black mirror.

Subscribe for Part 2!!!

I'm just kidding. That's not why we're here.

But I may or may not share that whole story very soon. Along with some others.

Or maybe I won't. We'll see...

I've been thinking a lot about all the things.

Life. Death. Art.

Tonight has been a time capsule of some of the things.

The past few years have been a massive observation and evolution.

It's all been a fascinating study of the human experience. I do hope that sharing some of my experiences might help you with navigating or validating your own learning experience.

You are not alone, sweet friend.

This life is for learning. It is not a competition. It is a co-creation.

It is a test in patience and surrender.

Also... Happy Father's Day.

Here's what I'm thinking:

We're gonna bring Brainure back.

And we're gonna talk about this chapter of our lives.

We can talk about anything here.

This is a safe space to process all of this and learn from life...Together.

I can't wait to have conversations and catch up with you.

The Return of Friday Jams

2018-09-07T04:20:00.000-04:00

I was doing some video work this morning and remembered that Pogo is still out there doing shit.

So I went and looked him up and there was this video that he dropped recently:

And then my youtube just autoplayed Pogo.

So I'm having a very Pogo day and it's making me sooooo fuckin' happy.

I think he'd make some of you happy, too.

Don't think I won't tag you at some point if you sleep on this.

And honestly, I have Terribly Odd to thank for my intro to Pogo a bunch of years ago.

An Explanation -or- You Probably Think This Post Is About You

2018-09-01T16:20:00.000-04:00

FOREWARD: If you want the full experience you have to click links and listen to music and pay attention to lyrics and read and shit like that.

If you don't wanna do any of that...byeeeeeeeeeeeee

If you do, HI!. Welcome to me.
******************************************

Intro theme song for this:

One of my facebook posts from last weekend:

I have so many things to say and it hurts to not really be able to

The replies and comments:

Are you ok? *
Here, try this [insert self-care advice and/or creative outlets]
Start blogging again!
We're here for you.
Call me if you need to talk.

....and then the family gossip that my mom told me about.

Because they check in with her instead of talking with me about it directly, but that’s another story for another time. **

Let’s be real - do you think that I’m the type of person to put out a call for serious help on fucking facebook? I know how to use a goddamn phone AND how to reach you in case of any sort of real emergency.

I’ve vented there, yes.

I’ve looked for attention there, yes.
Isn't that what it's there for? The giving and receiving of attention.

I’ve somewhat opened up about certain feels there once or twice, sure. Who hasn't? There are a lot of us going through the same stuff and when we find each other relatable in low times it really is so comforting.

We’re all a bit hypersensitive and moody AF in these years, and I do appreciate you reaching out, those of you who did. You are the wind beneath my wings.

But SO MANY times, I’ve bottled up super hilarious quips and insanely ridiculous comments, too. Usually because having to explain it sucks the funny out and by then they’ve probably missed their moments, or it would take 20mins to explain and would only make sense to me anyway.

It’s called a filter. Some of you have them, too.

Others don’t…you cheeky bastards.

Let me put it to you another way.

I read this article years ago about popcorn brain. Google it.

Go ahead – I’ll give you a minute…don't be lazy. Just do it.

So, after the last 20+years living the majority of my life online, when I’m in conversations with people out in the “meat world”, and especially after a few drinks, and with you all on my phone and so accessible due to the loveliest of all inventions: Social Media…I tend to pop off at the mouth occasionally when I can’t contain ALL the bottlenecked thoughts that are rattling around the old noggin.

When I popped off last Saturday, I was in a fiiiiiiiine place which was almost entirely full of face hurting laughter and running into interesting characters. I have witnesses.

I’ll end this with 3 things:

Because my ramblings tend to take more than anyone really wants to read on facebook***
Because some of you have been poking me about this for a while
Because I know it’ll help me to have this outlet which, who fuckin’ knows, might also help some of you.

I’m rebooting/reigniting my blog.

*dammit, I really wish my name were Annie now

**except you Deb. Thank you. Was nice chatting with you. and I don't blame them, cuz Janet kinda really fuckin' rules.

***it makes for good toilet reading in the morning

Outro theme song for this:

-->

When The Dust Settles

2016-02-22T16:20:00.000-05:00

“Sssshhhh, sssshhhhh, baby, it’s okay, baby. Ssssshhhhh, sssssshhhhh”, Sarah said as she sat on the dirt floor with her newborn son held against her chest and rocked him back and forth. The ceiling and slats of the siding of the house were shaking and Sarah didn’t know how long they’d hold. She’d only had a couple of weeks with baby Michael before the wild black winds kicked up. There’d been no time to prepare for such a force of nature. They’d had previous dust and sand storms that came through these plains, weeks of them, but nothing like what was now seen through the bubbled glass windows of their small farmland house. There was no way this ramshackle shelter would stand against the dry relentless winds that were blowing through so incredibly hard. It had gotten so dark, so fast. The sun had completely disappeared and it was only mid-afternoon, a good 3 or 4 hours left of sunlight on a normal day. The temperature dropped and the air chilled without the sun’s warmth. Sarah thought it looked like the end of days outside after a glance through one of the windows, vowing to herself that she wouldn’t look again and drew closed the thin fabric of the curtains she’d sewn. She had been proud of those curtains. They were the first things she put up in an attempt to make the tiny two-room house a home just after she and John were married. He was a good, proud, and hearty land worker who’d left Sarah and their new son for a meeting with a man in New Mexico about work. John was eager to provide Sarah and Michael with a new chapter for their lives together. Sarah wondered how far John made it before the black winds found him. Her chest felt heavy thinking about where he’d have to stop and take cover and if he was ok, where ever he was.

It started off as such a perfect Sunday. The skies so clear blue and the sun shining after not having seen it for weeks. Sarah busied herself with hanging the laundry outside and John packed up the jalopy and left that morning. He and Sarah had decided they were done with being Oklahoma land owners and were excited to find something new further west. The weather that year, and especially over the last few weeks, just wasn’t accommodating for working the soil and the drought, which had hit the year they got married, proved to be too harsh. John and Sarah were fully committed to each other and were able to stay optimistic through it all. The cattle that John brought with him were all gone after the first wave of dust storms came through. Their lungs had basically filled with mud from breathing in the fine dust of top soils and silt that constantly drifted through the atmosphere.

Michael’s arrival had stalled their first plans to move west and Sarah had to power through the last few months while John fought to keep his new family afloat after the livestock and crops were all gone. They’d wanted children and were pleasantly surprised when they found out that Sarah was pregnant with Michael and that he’d be a spring baby. Both John and Sarah had never felt so revived and renewed and Michael’s birth had gone so smoothly, as if he was just as eager to be in this world and in this new life. John cried when he’d first gazed upon his son and he looked at Sarah with a new found appreciation and respect. Sarah absolutely glowed throughout the process and fell in love with the little human she and John created. She was so grateful and felt so blessed to be Michael’s mother and saw in John’s eyes that he’d do anything and everything for them.

She looked down at Michael, swaddled in the quilt she’d made in the months before he came. His face was partially covered to protect him from the dust that made its way into the house. Her eyes welled up and a tear landed on the only spot of Michael’s forehead that was exposed between folds of fabric. Where the tear landed, the dust in the air collected and stuck to it. Fine wisps of silt were raining in through the ceiling and Sarah noticed a bow in some of the boards where the dirt outside was so heavily weighted against the wall boards that they bent inward slightly. The smell of the kerosene lamp got stronger as it filtered through the cloth that Sarah had draped over her face. Michael started crying again. Sarah slowly moved her hand to Michael’s face. She covered his nose and mouth and said, “Ssssshhhh, ssssshhhh, baby. It’s OK, baby. Ssssshhhh.”

--------------

I wrote this after studying Dorothea Lange in a photography class and started researching The Dust Bowl and Black Sunday in the '30s.

In one article, it was reported that a survivor had admitted that she'd contemplated killing her newborn just to spare him the environmental hell they were living in.

Poetry - Femme Fatale

2015-12-16T16:20:00.000-05:00

The assignment was to write a haiku, a sonnet, and something in open form. I've never been a huge fan of writing poetry because I never thought I was very good at it, but really grew to appreciate it after this assignment. My sonnet is a bit of a stumble but the requirements are all there. I was inspired by Patrick Nagel and Velvet Underground this particular night while doing homework.

-Haiku-

She wore her heels high

But made no sound while walking

'Til it was too late

-Sonnet-

They walked together having found true love

A close step behind, followed his best friend

He dreamt of cupping her supple rear end

And eyed those pants that fit her like a glove

A young beauty, wearing severe high heels

Yellow hair and bright blood red on her lips

Twisted triangle of relationships

A vixen in slinky smooth fabric peels

She was aware of her affect on him

The moves she made calculated, precise

They were caught one time, their whispers concise

The secrets they shared, founded on a whim

A call too close, the decision was made

To save her love, his friend's light had to fade

-Open Form-

She spritzed on her perfume

Lined her eyes with black

And slicked on some red

Shiny lacquered nails

Two stabs through her earlobes

Glimmered and dazzled

Her foot fall echoed and sharp

A match struck

The wisp of sulfur

The taste of tobacco and cloves mixed with gin and tonic

A charming laugh tinkling like ice in a glass after a delightful compliment

Pop culture filled polite conversation merged into backgrounds and upbringings and stifled vitriol

A lovely evening then soured, rotted, and ruined by shallow snobbery

Ignorant, arrogant, and rude

Quick sharp echoing steps

A frenzied retreat through black moving shadows and white steaming sidewalks

The silent transition

Between hunter and prey

He'd started the night as the hunter.

Photo Prompt - The American Contract

2015-12-11T16:20:00.000-05:00

We were provided with 5 photos to pick from and write a story segment about. It didn't have to be a finished story, but it did need to be between 500 to 600 words.
This is the picture I chose and the words that followed.

The American Contract

I've been sitting here with my bitter black coffee in this cafe for about 30 minutes. The smell of coffee beans and toasted bread is in the air. The street lights have just come on against the crisp autumn evening of the city. The bicycle bells are starting to diminish but the sound of the train is still going strong nearby. The church bells all rang about an hour ago when I was trailing the denim wearing fellow down a few side streets. He ducked into the building across from where I'm sitting in this cafe, essentially becoming invisible due to security badges and metal detector body scans being a requirement in order to follow. I'm slightly pissed at feeling under prepared. This assignment is no different than jobs I've taken previously. When the message comes through and I take a job, there's usually just an initial date and time to pick up the trail, a grainy photo, boosted from a security camera, and a time frame for how long I'm supposed to trail the mark. Most of the time, the jobs are only a day or two. The longest was about 23 days. I've never had a contract last longer than a month. My job is to simply document movements and routines and remain completely inconspicuous. I rarely ever know the reason for the job. I don't ask questions and appreciate the income.

The waiter that first brought over my coffee has forgotten about me already. The coffee cup is empty and instead of looking for someone to refill, my eyes fall upon an old salty fellow in the dark corner of the room. He's got a pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket and his jacket is hanging on a hook to the side of the table. He's reading a book which is lit by a single white candle in a pewter holder, and I can see only half of his wrinkled grey bearded face. For a brief moment, I consider what his internal voice sounds like as he's reading.

In my peripheral vision, I see a familiar shape exit the building across the street. My mark is on the move and immediately, I'm glad the waiter has forgotten me since I'd already been getting lost in my thoughts without that second cup of coffee. I leave a few coins on the table and head towards the door, keeping an eye on my mark through the glass as I exit.

I'm supposed to be trailing this guy, I'm assuming is American because of his jeans, for a Monday through Friday contract, but he's moving faster than the usual 5 day gig.

I've only been to America once, to Disney World with my family, back when I was a kid and we were still a family. I remember there being giant stores full of denim. I vowed to never wear denim. My look is efficient and forgettable - I own exactly 7 black shirts, 7 pairs of black leggings, 2 pairs of black boots, and 2 black jackets; one sporty, one leather, and 3 black hoodies, and a drawer full of black socks and underwear - the boring kind you can buy in a pack of 5 at a time. It's easier to hide in the shadows and/or blend into the crowd wearing all black. It makes me feel invisible and as a result, I've never been made during a job.

My American denim wearer is walking briskly through a higher traffic touristy area and ducks into a coffee shop. I stop in an alley way across the street and light a cigarette.I've been sitting here with my bitter black coffee in this cafe for about 30 minutes. The smell of coffee beans and toasted bread is in the air. The street lights have just come on against the crisp autumn evening of the city. The bicycle bells are starting to diminish but the sound of the train is still going strong nearby. The church bells all rang about an hour ago when I was trailing the denim wearing fellow down a few side streets. He ducked into the building across from where I'm sitting in this cafe, essentially becoming invisible due to security badges and metal detector body scans being a requirement in order to follow. I'm slightly pissed at feeling under prepared. This assignment is no different than jobs I've taken previously. When the message comes through and I take a job, there's usually just an initial date and time to pick up the trail, a grainy photo, boosted from a security camera, and a time frame for how long I'm supposed to trail the mark. Most of the time, the jobs are only a day or two. The longest was about 23 days. I've never had a contract last longer than a month. My job is to simply document movements and routines and remain completely inconspicuous. I rarely ever know the reason for the job. I don't ask questions and appreciate the income.

The waiter that first brought over my coffee has forgotten about me already. The coffee cup is empty and instead of looking for someone to refill, my eyes fall upon an old salty fellow in the dark corner of the room. He's got a pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket and his jacket is hanging on a hook to the side of the table. He's reading a book which is lit by a single white candle in a pewter holder, and I can see only half of his wrinkled grey bearded face. For a brief moment, I consider what his internal voice sounds like as he's reading.

In my peripheral vision, I see a familiar shape exit the building across the street. My mark is on the move and immediately, I'm glad the waiter has forgotten me since I'd already been getting lost in my thoughts without that second cup of coffee. I leave a few coins on the table and head towards the door, keeping an eye on my mark through the glass as I exit.

I'm supposed to be trailing this guy, I'm assuming is American because of his jeans, for a Monday through Friday contract, but he's moving faster than the usual 5 day gig.

I've only been to America once, to Disney World with my family, back when I was a kid and we were still a family. I remember there being giant stores full of denim. I vowed to never wear denim. My look is efficient and forgettable - I own exactly 7 black shirts, 7 pairs of black leggings, 2 pairs of black boots, and 2 black jackets; one sporty, one leather, and 3 black hoodies, and a drawer full of black socks and underwear - the boring kind you can buy in a pack of 5 at a time. It's easier to hide in the shadows and/or blend into the crowd wearing all black. It makes me feel invisible and as a result, I've never been made during a job.

My American denim wearer is walking briskly through a higher traffic touristy area and ducks into a coffee shop. I stop in an alley way across the street and light a cigarette.

Stuff and Nonsense.

2015-12-07T16:20:00.000-05:00

Most of you know that I'm back in school. If you don't, I have been since the summer of 2014. I'm heading into my final semester in January for a piddly little 2 year degree for Multimedia Production: TV/Digital Cinema. This fall term, I jumped into 5 classes; mostly digital editing and photography, but there was also a Creative Writing class.

I have decided to return to this hotdog stand because having words out there and ideas and inspiration floating about in so many ways is important to me. Most of you are creative minds and artists and stuff like that is important to you, too.
You understand that when the Muse speaks, you have no choice but to listen & TCB. My Muse has been strong this fall and she wants me to share her with you now.
So, if you're interested...I'm going to start posting recent stories, poetry, video & photo projects.

Plus, this:

Imitation: The Best Form of Flattery

2015-06-30T16:20:00.000-04:00

Calm down. It was for education. I'm not a rip-off artist.

In this same design class from last summer's term (previously on Brainure), we were to bring in samples of art and turn them into super high contrast paintings, using only black and white, no gray scale.
I chose these two Chad Pollpeter pieces for the assignment.

I struggled with skipping details for basic lighting/shapes at the beginning. My professor, Jay Spalding, appreciated my choice of artist...which more than likely helped my grade.
My versions turned out to not suck as much as was initially anticipated.

So, thank you, Chad for inadvertently helping with my continuing education & steadily cranking out some amazing paintings.

A Year Ago - Drawings

2015-06-25T16:20:00.000-04:00

Does anyone blog anymore?

A year ago this summer, I was in a design class. We did blind contour drawings where you're looking at the subject, not your hand as you draw, and you don't lift the pencil.
Our subjects were each other - classmates that were sitting around us.
Mine turned out looking like this:

Patrick 1

Patrick 2

Lee 1

Lee 2

The Argument Against The Washington Racial Slurs Football Team

2014-11-22T04:20:00.000-05:00

We've been discussing this with people recently....and I have more information to share but figure that this was one of those things that I wanted to share with everyone...not just those few individuals. It's a pretty hot topic after that one episode of the Daily Show and with some of the ads you may or may not have seen.

And some of you know that I'm in a Native American Humanities class where we've been discussing and reading about this over the past few months. Matthew posted something on the book of face at the beginning of the football season that got a bit of back and forth commenting, but I feel like it needs a little more attention.

red·skin n.

usually offensive.
-American Indian
-the word 'redskin' is offensive and should be avoided

From wikipedia: In a 2014 interview after the Trademark decision, Amanda Blackhorse the lead petitioner expressed her opinion: "The name itself actually dates back [to] the time when the Native American population was being exterminated, and bounty hunters were hired to kill Native American people... So, in order to show that they made their kill, they had to bring back a scalp or their skin."

From "Just Good Sports" by Suzan Shown Harjo: "The most derogatory name for Native Peoples in the English language is 'redskins'. The term has its origins in the late 1600s, when Europeans introduced commercial bounty-hunting in North America. they first paid fur trappers and other mercenaries for the heads and whole bodies of Native men, women, and children. When that practice proved too cumbersome, bounty-payers accepted the bloody red skins and scalps as proof of 'Indian kill'. From that time and into the 1900s, 'redskins' was the term that was used in newspapers and books when writers wanted to convey the worst impression of Native Peoples. In Hollywood westerns, the term was usually preceded by such adjectives as 'dirty', 'lazy', 'no good' and 'theiving'. The term is despised by most Native Peoples and is seldom used in polite society now, except as a 'Native' sports reference."

So there's all of that.
And with that, I understand that some people are slanting the conversation by thinking that the term is somehow "honoring" the Native American culture.
But please....explain to me how it's supposed to be an honor to remind someone of that term's origin?

There are these defenses:
"But there are the Celtics and the Vikings....and they aren't all pissed off about logos...."
When was the last time you saw a Celtic or a Viking?

And aren't Irish people kinda done with being likened to leprechauns?
If they aren't, you know why that is?
Because they were white dudes coming up with ideas for a team name and logo. It was self-appointed.
Because teams like "the fighting Irish" don't mind having a little angry drunk leprechaun as their logo.
And because teams like the "Patriots" don't mind having a brooding white dude as their logo.

"But what about the Buccaneers or the pirates on the Raiders logo?" Stop.
Those are occupations.
That don't exist anymore.

"The Seminoles signed off on using 'Chief' Osceola as a mascot."
1. The Seminoles have a lot of casino money pumping into the state of Florida.
2. When they signed off on it, they were able to keep more of their casino money instead of getting into a lawsuit.
3. Osceola was never a chief and the "mascot" is a white dude in red face.

Not any less offensive. Just sold.

If you're a team that's completely making up a Native American character or changing who an actual person was in history...how is that honoring anything?

And what the fuck is this about?

Do you think there would ever be a team that would even consider making a banner that said, "Hey Jews, you stink! Head for the showers!!" or "Let's hang those Negroes high!"
Ugh...that's just awful. Seriously, even just typing that out, I hurt my own feelings and all I can visualize in my head is a bunch of twat cheerleaders standing around all Mean Girls style coming up with that horrible shite above.
I graduated from Apopka and the worst of our banners was just "Pioneers can suck a fatty!!"
I still don't really know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Exactly what kind of "fatty" are we talking about here?

"But Dan Snyder started Original Americans Foundation and is giving back to certain tribal communities."....
1. OAF is a dumb name.
oaf. n.
-a clumsy, stupid person; a lout.
-AND-
2. Good. He should be.

Do I think the Washington football team should change their name?
It's probably not a bad idea and is likely to happen in the near future, but ultimately, I don't care too much because I'm not a fan, I don't buy their merchandise, and am falling out of love (if there ever was any) with the NFL as a whole anyway.
Plus, they suck.

GO BUCS!!

Tampa Bay Buccaneers

Sunday, November 16, 1:00 PM

FedEx Field, Landover, Maryland

Tampa Bay

Buccaneers

(2-8)

27 - 7

Final

Washington

Redskins

(3-7)

No. These Are NOT Clemson Logos.

2014-03-09T16:20:00.000-04:00

For the past few months I've been thinkin' about a little tribute to my orange kids, Snoop & Turk.

It felt funny to even ask Freak for cat paws because he does some really nice work that's a lot more detailed. He did my feet that one time. And we're talking about doing something to fill in some space on my back.

Anyway, while these are mainly for my boys, it occurred to me that the timing was pretty much purrrrrrrrfect (*groan*) since also working on "Cat On A Hot Tin Roof".

And this picture taken just after they were done makes me laugh cuz it looks suicidal.

You Can't Spell "Theatre" Without "The"

2014-03-06T16:20:00.000-05:00

When Matthew & I were first starting out, he'd come over to my apartment & was checking out my dvd collection and pointed at the musicals stash and said, "What's that about? Were you in those or something?"

It's funny how much I've been thinking about that question recently. Dammit, he's so good at that and he doesn't even MEAN to be.

In, maybe 3rd grade?, we read a play and I loved everything about it, the way it was formatted, that it took multiple people to read it out loud....etc. So, I wrote my own starring the Christmas tree and my brother. The tree spoke with flickering lights I'd blink on and off while doing voice over from underneath it while my brother played his part standing next to the tree. If you ask her, my mother will not remember this happening.

We did some plays and puppet shows in church, but during high school, I missed out on any sort of drama club because it was either unavailable or I was already working and didn't have time for extra-curricular activities.
Luckily, that's the only thing I'd ever really say, "If I had to do it over again..." for.
Apopka High School did two productions while I was there, Our Town (yes, I cried) and Show Boat which had the most impressive stage boat set I'd ever seen. That fucker was two stories and REVOLVED in 2 separate pieces so the outside of the boat was one set and the inside of it another.

My grandparents owned a music store when we were growing up and were into musicals, so The Music Man and The Sound of Music were annual staples and I was obsessed with one of my grandmother's music boxes that had a couple dancing while a Phantom of The Opera song played.
Maybe it's a genetic thing that I'm a musicals fan. My favorite is when someone says they "hate muscials" but can then sing along to most songs in the movie versions.
Like my mom says that she hates musicals (...or just most things...) but then knows all the songs from Fiddler On The Roof, or Porgy and Bess, or 7 Brides For 7 Brothers.

Rent and Ragtime are probably my two freakin' favorites and Chicago would be the show I'd almost certainly die to be in.
Perhaps in another life.

Last week, I teased a little about being over at Mad Cow.

About a month ago and after a few weeks of bugging the Production Manager, and email bombing the overhire program alias, I received a reply asking if I'd be interested in being a Stage Manager for some upcoming shows. (there were a lot of strange high pitched happy noises that followed simply due to receiving a reply) My response to them included the fact that I'd be starting out completely green and that it would be better for me to jump into an Assistant Stage Manager position first so I could eat everyone's brains and gain their knowledge.
After doing some homework, what I liked about this was that it paralleled my old gig as a Sales Associate/Inside Sales Support but instead of a District Manager, I now have a director. Instead of a sales team, there's a cast of actors. Instead of the operations team, there are the production teams. There was a slight sense of familiarity making it not completely feel like I'd be a mermaid out of water.
So, for the past couple of weeks, I've been playing the role of Assistant Stage Manager for Tennessee Williams' "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof".

As soon as I found out which show I'd be working, it was time for more homework.
First, was a viewing of the Liz Taylor/Paul Newman/Burl Ives 1958 movie version.
Then I found out that Tennessee Williams hated that flick, so I went over to YouTube and found a Jessica Lange/Tommy Lee Jones/Rip Torn 1984 PBS version...which was pretty stinkin' great.
The father/son relationships and struggles being a strong and common theme, I told Matthew that his freakin' family was ripe for a Tennessee Williams play. If Mick is reading this, I'm sure he'd agree.
My next round of homework is more research on Tennessee Williams and to read a book one of our actors wrote.

Will keep you guys posted as we go.

The show opens Friday 3/21 and runs until Sunday 4/20.

KAREN: If you need me...I'll just be...uh....down at The Theatre.
(...cue strange high pitched happy noises.)

CURTAIN

A Return of Sorts

2014-02-27T16:20:00.000-05:00

Lots of you guys already know this, and to quote a phrase my old boss used to say about past work experiences, "In a previous life...."
I worked at Walt Disney World.

I was there for about 4 years starting the summer before my senior year of high school. Hired in to be a cast member for Magic Kingdom attractions/entertainment (which ended up being more of a food service with a show, but I'll get to that later) at The Diamond Horseshoe Saloon Review & Medicine Show.
It's closed now - probably being used as storage or a character meet & greet space (just like the Animation Studio at "Hollywood Studios" is a cold empty husk of the magic it once held).
While it was open, we served cold sammiches and chips and ice cream and sodas while a stage show with magicians, singing cowboys, and can-can girls performed.
It was an entertaining food service attraction.
We dared to blur the line between departments.
Because of this, I was able to cross-train at a few other close by attractions like Haunted Mansion, which was the best because it was the only place you could give your face a rest from all that smiling and being nice to people.
(...hello, Jesse. consider this a virtual hug.)

(awkward pic pose)

2 years later, I moved over to Typhoon Lagoon to be a lifeguard. But not one of those cool lifeguards like those that got to dive the shark reef for most of the day or like the guys standing above the wave pool. I was a shallow water guard. Which meant watching people float down a lazyass river, telling kids not to climb rocks, ster-bac bluing the snorkel gear, and tube stacking.
Before we were even allowed to stand poolside with our whistles, there was, of course, a certification class where were taught CPR and other life-saving techniques in the deep end of a pool at a YMCA. An older gentlemen in our class ended up having a heart attack in the pool during a session and we had to do a real life emergency rescue....

Anyway, during this lifeguarding phase, I was also taking classes over at Valencia 3 days a week and working 12-14hr days. Sometimes picking up event shifts that had me clocked in from 6a.m. to 3 or 4a.m.
Make no mistake, lifeguards party just as hard as they work and I had some of the best drunken nights of my life that I probably shouldn't remember.
(...Neil?? I think you're the only one from back then who may or may not read this. HI!! ...also, luckily for us, I can't find any pictures at the moment.)

The park would close for two months in the Florida "winter" for renovations & maintenance and would send its cast members to the other parks and resorts on property. I was sent into retail at a gift shop at the then-named Disney Institute (now called Saratoga Springs) which was the most boring gig but gave me an awesome opportunity to do a claymation short film as a part of the resort's "area awareness" training.
The resort used to run 2hr workshops that people could take in gardening, animation & claymation, and a few random other things....photography was in there, I think. Apparently, people don't want to learn on vacation because it doesn't appear they do that stuff anymore.
That day in the claymation shop, we were broken off into 4 groups of 3 or 4 and my group was inspired by Bambi Meets Godzilla (below) so we did a similar little ditty but instead it was a pink poodle floating down a river on a raft and it gets eaten by a purple tentacled monster from below.
It took us 2hrs to complete a 12 second clip. Will do some digging to see if it's hidden in a box in a closet somewhere.

When Typhoon reopened, I went back to lifeguarding before itching to get back to the entertainment side of things and auditioned to be in....no...wait....to be A Friend Of the Disney Characters and ended up being great friends with Rafiki, Pluto, & Eeyore over at Camp Minnie Mickey (recently closed) at the Animal Kingdom (...hello, Bambi, Michelle, Jen, & whoever else may be lurking....HUGS!!) just after its Grand Opening.
(Had some pretty fuckin' awesome drunken nights while I was here, too. *daydreamy sigh*)
(bleh....some not so awesome, too)

And then I tried to swing into being a Puppeteer for the Lion King Show (recently closed) over at Disney's Animal Kingdom but got caught up in a stupid union thing that fucked over my chance. Pissed off (mostly with myself), I picked up odd shifts here and there, becoming friends with Brer Fox, Mr. Smee, and Wendell the Country Bear over at other parks & resorts and then left to become a photographer at Animal Kingdom (3rd party), which was still kinda fun because then I was taking pictures of all my friends who were Friends of Disney Characters, but really kinda sucked because we were doing the same framing, seeing the same character poses...for hours, for days, for months. And with a shitty manager.
I got burnt out. Fast.

Completely disenchanted & struggling, I left theme parks/entertainment/hospitality all together to go swimming in the tech pool for about 14 years.

And, so here we are. 15 years later and I've returned to entertainment.
In the form of Mad Cow Theatre.
Which, unbeknownst to most of you, has been a goal of mine for the past year+ and is on my list of things to accomplish for 2014.
I seriously couldn't be happier or more excited at present and will share more details next week!!

ARGH - CLIFFHANGER!!

Jamaican Me Cray

2014-02-22T04:20:00.000-05:00

At the beginning of the year, Matthew asked me where we should go for the next three day weekend.
Around the same time, Mom requested to be invited to the next trip out of the country so she could get a passport stamp.

As Matthew's luck would have it, the next three day weekend and next trip out of the country happened to fall on Valentine's Day Weekend.
Pretty sure this is how sitcoms get written.

Also, remember that one time I lost my passport in Amsterdam?....well, this trip put me under the gun to get my emergency issued temporary passport renewed in time for our 2/14 departure. Of course, being me, I'd put it off thinking it didn't expire until the end of February.....so imagine the look on my face when, on 1/27, I finally looked at my temporary passport and noticed the 2/14 expiration date. By about noon, I'd had all my paperwork filled out and new picture taken and everything off to be overnighted to a Philly address on a hope and a prayer. The paperwork all said that the expedited process would take 2-3 weeks. It showed up in my mailbox a week later.
The sense of relief that washed over me as I opened the envelope that day was indeed a glorious one.

The idea of Matt going alone with my mother for a long weekend in what ended up being Negril, Jamaica provided about an hour's worth of jokes and laughter with Pannacakes. Good thing I didn't tell her about it until after the passport arrived.

Before we'd booked the trip, I'd done some research on Jamaica vs DR and knew we'd be good for an all-inclusive. Most of the articles found pointed towards Jamaica and then after reading some resort reviews, we determined that Negril was the place to go and the RIU Tropical Palace was the place to stay (mainly because it wasn't already sold out).

The trip looked a little like this:

We got some nice sunburns.
We drank a lot of rum, pina coladas, mimosas, Red Stripes.
We ate some really nice curries and jerks. (heh)
We met some really nice people.
We steered clear of some slightly questionable things and we didn't drink the water.

Jamaica was fantastic and I wouldn't be upset if we had to go back.
With more friends.
Mom's invited again, too, although she was makin' some noise about Costa Rica for Christmas.

Does This Blog Make Me Look Fat?

2014-02-12T16:20:00.000-05:00

So I changed the colors and fonts. New year, new look.
I also cut my hair off and haven't updated any of my profile pics yet.
I've been stockpiling things to talk about so things seem more interesting.
That's half of the truth. The other half is that I've been writing more. In a book. With a pen.
But in that book that I'm writing in with a pen....I stated my 2014 goals and blogging weekly was one of them.
It's only mid-February. It's still early enough in the year.

Admittedly, I've been slacking here due to overthinking.
What day should we stick with? Should it even be an assigned day? What to write about? Should it be a recap? If not, what kinds of things should it focus on? Should it focus? Can I focus?
Until I get overwhelmed and don't know where to start anymore....

Like I just did now when I went to facebook to reply to a message.
So many people doing so many awesomely great things....who the eff cares about my thing when there's SO much awesome out there?
Then I feel small and insignificant. And then I remember that we're all small and insignificant.
So, then I'm stricken with inspiration and I'm like, "FUCK YEAH, THERE'S SO MUCH AWESOME, I WANNA CONTRIBUTE TO IT, TOO!!"
But then, when I do....I feel like my contributions suck and there's no way it could ever be as awesome as the awesome that's already out there.
But then, I think, if I don't keep contributing to the awesome, how will it ever be even close to meeting the potential of someday being awesome?

And really - the best way to tackle all of this chatter in my stupid noggin is to
SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DO WORK.

There's nothing to show for overthinking things.

The important thing is to start. Somewhere. Anywhere.
And what better time to start than now?

See you next week!! :)

2013 Highlighting the Ups

2013-12-31T04:20:00.000-05:00

Matthew and I were at dinner the other night talking & getting excited about what we want to do in 2014 and discussing how we thought 2013 went.
Apparently, I had my cranky pants on because I said it was an "OK" year and he said it was "pretty fuckin' awesome".
I've realized since then that unfortunately, and for some stupid reason, my noggin was choosing to highlight some of the more awkward 2013 moments instead of all the seriously amazing things that happened.

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to write out the rundown of awesome (and skipping over all the not-so-awesome), not to be a douche braggart, but to further reinforce those in my head instead of those less than optimal and maybe it'll help you do the same. I've seen your facebook posts about how crappy the year was and/or how you're ready for 2013 to be over and it's ok if sometimes we need reminders to clear our perspectives.

January was again full of drunken shenanigans at the Scottish Highland Games. I dove head first into renovating the Dollhouse of Horrors and started building out stage pieces for the Bloody Jug Band...some by request, others not so much. We also saw Charlie Murphy down at the Improv.

February was more Dollhouse of Horrors work and a trip to Helen, GA. We also went to see Muse at Amway Center and I cried a little bit at how amazing their show was.

In March, we saw the Dropkick Murphys again, I puppeteered for the Bloody Jug Band's video for "Roadkill Boys". This was also the month we did Whole30 for the first time and I submitted my last photo for the 12month long Inspired class I'd signed up for in January.
Yep...I totally fell out of it for the rest of the year because of shiny new things and being inspired elsewhere. But I'm glad I went out with a bang.

April started with a trip to see The Marvelous Mehegans up in Corning, NY. I took a banjo lesson, we finally ate at Cask & Larder and Ravenous Pig, saw Tony Bourdain at Hard Rock, and visited Disney. This is also when I started thinking about a miniatures.com contest entry.

May was, of course, insane with a Mother's Day pool party that got way more rowdy than what was intended, a concert poster design class on Skillshare, a couple of BJB shows, and was capped off by a trip to New Orleans, LA for my & Pannacakes' birthdays.

June included a Glassman show at Peacock that was pretty killer, a visit with Vaughn & Jen to pick up one of my favorite purchases of the year (Betty & Veronica pictured below), jury duty selections for George Zimmerman, and was also when I received my walking papers from the company I'd worked for over the previous 12 years.

July started off with new hair to celebrate my corporate departure, a crazy 3rd of July party at Pannacakes', followed by a rained out pool party at the Merriam's for the 4th, a Khal Drogo costume for Matthew, the 8th Annual Summer Bomb, a couple of visits to DRIP, and Marilyn Manson at Hard Rock.

August had a The Cult show at HOB, another couple of BJB shows, a trip to Busch Gardens followed by a viewing of Blackfish, a Danny Leggett show, Cedric's surprise birthday party, a drunk monologues shoot (shut up, I'll get to that later), and a trip to Ocala to see April and her fam. Made a fake movie poster for a friend's birthday and finished up a painting for Cedric & Michelle's anniversary.

September we rocked our own logo for a Labor Day weekend pub crawl, went and saw Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeroes at Hard Rock and then went to see them again during the Gentlemen of the Road festival weekend where we also saw Mumford & Sons and stayed at a dumpy St. Aug beach hotel. And we attended a lovely DIY wedding.

In October we went to see Terribly Odd's Haunted Mansion inspired show, Ghost at Amway Center where they shook my pants and hair, I made a mermaid costume, had the best weekend at Spooky Empire where I finally met Tom Savini, hugged Bill Moseley & Ve Neill, told Glenn Hetrick that I'd be his huckleberry, fingered Kane Hodder's left gloved hand during a photobomb, and sang "Goodbye Horses" to Jason Mewes. We finished off October in Austin, TX to celebrate my & Matthew's wedding anniversary and dress up like the 11th Doctor and a Reptilian Shapeshifter for Halloween, and met up with The Krutikovs for some kick ass high-end mexican food with the first best mescal drink I've ever put down my neck followed by the best burlesesque show I've ever seen.

November I made a sideshow freak light-up sign out of an old guitar case & built out two rickety crate shelves for the Jugly Art show at Peacock and then Matthew & I left to spend a week in Amsterdam for his birthday where I lost my passport. If you ever lose your passport in another country...hope you're in Amsterdam. They were so nice and the whole process was a lot smoother than expected. We also met some great & crazy party people and Matthew gave up a Heisenberg shirt to a loud Scotsman. We spent Thanksgiving in Arizona with Matt's family during which we had a lovely evening strolling through the botanical gardens looking at giant lit up Chihuly glass sculptures in awe.

And so here we are at the tail end of December and I've submitted my Evil Dead Cabin to the miniatures.com contest before deadline and am making a Gatsby-style dress for New Year's Eve. We had a crazy drunken Pannacakes party, and a silly family presents exchange day that included Cards Against Humanity and boxing robots. We spent Christmas in San Francisco where we saw Brian Setzer Orchestra on Christmas Eve, Matthew got his first proper straight razor shave, dim sum in Chinatown, lobster bisque & crab salad at Pier 39, and we ate some pretty awesome food at some pretty awesome hotel restaurants and had The Best gin & tonic either one of us had ever had and the second best mescal drink I've ever put down my neck.

And peppered in throughout the year we were bombarded with Harlem Shakes, BatDad Vines, Breaking Bad, Red Weddings, Doctor Who, A Fox That Says Things, Goat remixes, Miley Cyrus' tongue, Blurred Lines, Twerking, Grumpy Cat & Li'l Bub, and an Astronaut Singing Space Oddity on the freakin' Space Station.

This year, like all other's before it, has included lots of ups and downs and were it not for the downs...how would you know just how up the ups are?
Plus, you'd probably be an insufferable asshole.

Even if you're a generally positive person like me, and incredibly lucky with a shit ton of ups, there are times that the Veil of Crap can fall down over your eyes to muddy your vision.
I am SO grateful for how up my ups were this year and I appreciate having those downs when they came along....but there's No. Possible. Reason. a down should ever overshadow an up....so remember to not let them, ok?

Thank you, Matthew for reminding me of that & helping to remove my Crap Veil.
You're absolutely right....2013 was pretty fuckin' awesome.

Cheers, everyone, to 2014!! May your ups be fuckin' killer and your downs be valuable lessons to overcome.

The Evil Dead Cabin

2013-12-12T04:20:00.000-05:00

For the better part of the past few months, I've been workin' on this little ditty for this little contest.
You buy the shell and dress it up how ever you want.
Most of the furniture is bought except the couch. I made that, the curtains, the reel-to-reel, and the Book of the Dead.

So, without further ado, may I proudly present to you, "Ash's Cabin: In The Off Season"....uh, in one inch scale....

Yes, I realize it's missing a porch. I'll get back to that.

I have most of what I need to build the porch but had to sacrifice a porch swing chain for the cellar door and I felt the interior was a bit more important before the deadline.
So, we'll see what happens a little later and...y'never know, maybe Ash will even show up.

Where's the Rape Culture Outrage In December?

2013-12-10T04:20:00.000-05:00

Remember over the summer when Robin Thicke's "Blurred Lines" was blowin' up and there were folks yelling about how it was promoting "rape culture"?
Go ahead...google it if you don't. We'll wait.

Well, now that it's The Holidays...I'd kinda like to know where all the damn outrage is for one of the creepiest winter season songs, "Baby, It's Cold Outside".

The one Will Ferrell's fun-for-the-whole-family Elf made insanely repopular that one year.

I heard this version the other day and maybe it was Sammy's occasional silly voices and attempt to be overly accommodating and Carmen's stern "no, sir" that got me actually visualizing the scene the lyrics were setting:

Seriously, listen to those lyrics.
How many times does she say no? And then he may or may not have slipped something in her drink?
All she's trying to do through the whole song is freakin' LEAVE!!

CREEPY CREEPER

So, now JGL and Lady Gaga are promoting rape culture, but with a female aggressor. And Kermit MC'ing.
Which is more my style anyway. :)

2008 Bitstrips

2013-10-23T16:20:00.000-04:00

Willie sent this link to me one night back in 2008. On it you can quickly create your own little comic strips so we went back and forth for a few days using actual conversations we'd had or silly little skits. Now there's an app for it and I've been seeing them pop up more an more over the last week.

Here are the ones we did 5yrs ago...

Willie's Pimp Lessons:

And my nonsense:

I've just downloaded the app - Willie, have you?
I feel a bitstrips stretch comin' on. :)

The Ariel Costume

2013-10-23T04:20:00.000-04:00

So, last Tuesday, Josh came over to finish up some stuff on his Once Upon A Time-Hook costume that ended up looking like this:

We added the red satin panels, trim, and buttons to an old vest and gave the jacket some cuffs, buttons, and collar patches.

Since we were doing this for his & Andrew's Halloween party taking place that Saturday, Josh asked me if I knew what I'd be dressing up as. I gave him a hesitant but thoughtful sigh and said, "No clue."

Matthew and I had kicked around a handful of ideas, but a decision hadn't been made.

Since he was out of town and had everything he needed for his costume options, I quickly made a decision a little later that night after remembering this awesome mermaid scale fabric I'd seen at Joann the other day. I did up a quick sketch and got my measurements and ordered the corset & gloves from Amazon. The corset looked like this before:

Which was too goth for Ariel...so when it came in on Thursday, I took all the black lace off and covered the remaining black trim with this rad silver trim and relaced the back with a metallic silver ribbon.

The tail skirt was an interesting experiment. I wasn't working off a pattern or anything and the scale fabric was stretchy and my first attempt at a hem turned out awful because I'd used the wrong stitch setting on the machine. My side seams are where I figured shit out and it was smoother sailing.

Tulle is a bitch. I say that lovingly because it made excellent fins and my "make-it-up-as-you-go-along" way of getting things done was totally on track, but it's not my favorite fabric to work with. I did a loose hand-stitch along the top to gather and then bunched that shit up before I ran it through the sewing machine.

Also, it was glittery and the entire house still looks like a unicorn farted up a storm. The girl at Joann gave me the awesome advice of spraying it down with hairspray. That helped some but my vacuum cleaner has an interesting layer of mermaid fin glitter mixed with cat litter.

To hide the stitching where the fin meets the tail, I trimmed it with a glittery green ribbon.

Can I just tell you how much I love Liquid Stitch? That stuff is amazing.*

Ariel needed accessories so I dug around the house and found a dinglehopper (plastic fork painted with silver glitter) for my hair, a thingamabob pendant (old corkscrew painted up and on plastic pearl beads), and a snarfblatt (belt buckle pipe I wore on an arm strap).

When I finished it on Friday, everything looked like this:

When I wore it on Saturday, I looked like this:

And for the majority of the night, ran around yelling "I'M A MERMAID!!"

______________________________

* Josh, can I get an Amen?

A First Friday

2013-09-27T16:20:00.000-04:00

As mentioned in yesterday's ramblings, I'm unemployed....was RIF'd back in July.
Here's a cute little throw back in case we wanna reminisce.

There's a funny thing about being in sales.
It's called a 'sales cycle'.
Everything is measured on a quarterly basis and due to this, for some odd reason (*cough* quotas) everyone decides to wait until the last month of every quarter (or every third month, for you yearly calendar folks) to push mega hard, and give discounts, and draw-up endless revisions of contracts & spreadsheets, and have war room concalls, and wait around for signatures in the lobbies of corporate offices, and do everything they frantically can to pull in at the very last minute whatever big elephant deal they might be working on....

And usually all of this is going on within the last 2-3 weeks of that magical beast of a third month.
As if that magical beast of a third month were somehow unexpectedly sneaking up on everyone.

And all the field reps you support are doing all the same cram-it-in things all at the same time.
And your regular 40-50hr work week turns into an 80hr work week for at least 2 weeks in a row.
Every. Third. Month.

And on the last Friday of each quarter....
It's like Christmas with none of the fun stuff.
Because we'd all be staying up late, glued to our laptops til 2 or 3 or 4a.m. babysitting those big elephant deals because they'd just come in that afternoon and they're complex in backend paperwork and everything has to match up just so for processing....
And there'd be emergency fire drill concalls with teams of management at 1a.m. and additional confirmations needed via email or someone forgot to click a checkbox in some system and everyone that's ever been associated with the big elephant deal is asking you if it's booked yet....
"Is there an SO#?"
"Is there an SO#?"
"Is there an SO#?"
"Is there an SO#?"

And in the past 10yrs, this is the first Friday at the End of The Quarter that I don't have to do ANY of that.

Tonight, I'm pouring one out for my corporate homies that kick so much ass.

______________________

PS. If you're reading this and you know who I'm talking about when I say "Sales Associate", hug them, send them flowers, liquor, beer, strippers, buy them a car. They take really good care of you and do their best for you and, at times, get little in return.

What I've Learned From The Summer of Karen

2013-09-26T16:20:00.000-04:00

So I've been unemployed since July.
Most popular question I've been asked is "How's the Summer of Karen going?" followed up by "What are you doing with all of your time?"
Answers range from "Great" to "Anything I fuckin' want!!"
I think most recently, when Clint asked how it was going, my response was a giant all-teeth grin with a thumbs up.

Here are the top 10 things I've learned since being unemployed:

1. It's so easy to forget what day it is. You know how they have those day of the week floor mats in the elevators on cruise ships that change from day to day like the day of the week underpants? We need those. Or underpants. Thanks, Willie, for usually hitting me up on Hoops Day to remind me of where we are in the week.

2. I thought I'd be able to keep up with the cleaning more. It works when Matthew's on work trips. Not so much when he's home. But the fact remains; it's still my least favorite thing to do.

3. Resume writing and going through career services is an 8hr gig in and of itself. And it usually makes me cranky. Selling myself & talking me up is weird. But I've learned that I'm professionally & soberly introverted but socially & drunkenly extroverted. Maybe I just need to write my resume while intoxicated with friends. It would be easier that way and would give me a good starting point to go back and clean up while sober.

4. Schedules and deadlines. One of the first things I did was give myself a chore chart (I think that's ultimately my mother's fault. We knew it was summer when the mega weekly chore charts came out). I stick to it most weeks. I need to do up a schedule and deadlines for my Creative Department & Career Services areas. Not so good at those aspects. Plus, video games sneak in there unscheduled. Then there's the random pop-ups playing taxi, lunch dates, webinars, happy hours, etc that I just can't help. Those random pop-ups have always made sticking to a schedule difficult for me.
If I could turn what I want to accomplish in a day/week/month/year into an infographic....I bet that would help me focus on schedules and deadlines. I like charts and graphs.
I feel an experiment coming on.

5. Sleeping in is impossible. I feel obligated to wake up with Matthew and help with breakfast & coffee. Plus, the lawn maintenance dudes get going early every Thursday, and the trash guys every Tuesday and Friday, and Snoop's usually paw-patting my face or lickin' my nose because he's hungry. I can count on one hand how many late nights during the week I've had, so it really doesn't matter about sleeping in. That's what afternoon naps are for and those are heavenly.

6. If you have a Summer list of outside things to do - put that shit off 'til the weather gets cooler. I'd intended to clean up porches & decks and all kinds of outside projects, but between the heat and the flooding rains....fuck that noise.

7. Everyone thinks you're doing nothing with your time, so when they ask, ramble off all the things you are doing in one big long run-on sentence that makes them feel tired by the time you've hit the end of the list and are taking a breath.

8. There is almost nothing to bitch about anymore. I think the only things I complain about are how many times in a week I have to vacuum or clean out the cats' shit box. So, I go to Facebook just to see what you guys are bitching about. And to make sure I'm not missing any important Miley Cyrus***/gun control/national debt news.

9. My dream job would be to be paid to travel around the world and document adventures between my favorite video game releases while watching youtube videos or creating them based on whatever random thing I'm building at the moment. And they'd reimburse my banjo lesson...no banjo CAMP tuition. But now, thanks to Obama-care.....

10. The other night, I had a dream that I was in some big ol' Hogwarts lookin' school and was walking down a library corridor. It was dark with the smell* of musty books and we (there are always other people with me) were looking for ghosts. Suddenly, appearing in front of me was a porcelain doll faced girl, with her hair up & spiked out, all geisha-esque.....but she had the body of some fucked up caterpillar.** I reached out a hand toward her and was all "she ain't real..." and then that bitch bit the side of my hand with jagged little scary teeth. I jerked my hand away real quick....
Meanwhile, in real-life, while sleeping in our comfy bed, when I jerked my hand away from the caterpillar geisha ghost in my dream, I ended up accidentally swattin' Matthew in the balls.
This isn't really something I've learned....I just like giving treats to you at the end.
_____________________________
*I'm lyin' here. I can't smell things in dreams.
**From playing so much Saints Row 4 near the rifts, I'm positive.
***Have we established yet that she's only got the one photo pose??

That One Time We Went To Gentlemen of The Road

2013-09-25T04:20:00.000-04:00

We got to the venue and it looked like this:

And we looked like this:

And at night, that 1st thing looked like this:

(there was also a head that appeared to be coming up out of the ground. I have no drunken pictures of that, though)

And I looked like this when I whizzed after the shuttle bus back to our hotel area:

And this guy was hell bent on shooting pool with Pannacakes:

(crazy ass mofo)

And this is what my shadow looked like on Crabby Bill The Bartender's shirt:

And this is what I looked like drinkin' a Heineken:

And this is what Crabby Bill looks like when he's not being crabby:

And this is what Crystal looks like when she wakes us up in the morning:

And this is what Pannacakes looks like poolside with a Miller Lite:

And this is what me & Crystal look like when we're poolside with Miller Lites:

And this is what we look like in the pool drinkin' pina coladas under Crystal's umbrella:

And this is what Crystal looks like when she's a badass with mermaid hair:

(which is all the freakin' time)

And this guy wore Pannacakes' bra on his head:

And then we went back to the venue and ran into these guys:

(Pannacakes would later end up at the bar marrying the dude with the awesome staff and shirt)

And this is what I looked like while Mumford was playing:

And this is what Mumford looked like when they were playing:

And after that weekend....we all had to take a break.

YouTubesday!! Tommy Edison!!

2013-09-24T16:20:00.000-04:00

For the past year, here's my favorite blind guy on YouTube:

He has this channel called Blind Film Critic.

That's where you can find him on Twitter and Instagram as well.

And there's also Tommy Edison XP where he talks about his experiences, takes on challenges, and answers questions from the comments section.

The guy is fuckin' adorable and he gives a super interesting perspective on life from his point of view (haha...view).

He held an AMA on Reddit last week that I'd mentioned on Facebook and as happy as I was that one of my questions got answered, it would've been nice if it hadn't been the douchey one that was 3rd in line on this list:

But hey, at least it was answered & didn't surprise anyone at all.

YAY, small victories!!

Anyway, check him out & his producer buddy, Ben Churchill - they're awesome and I'd like to give them hugs & buy them a beer someday.