End - A result; an outcome.

Derek asked what a hipster is...
Joe: It's hard to quantify. Basically you can look at Kyle and know what a hipster is. But even she isn't really a hipster. I mean look at this nerdy shirt she's wearing (This one) there are maybe a handful of people that get that shirt. (This makes no sense cause by reason this makes me even more of a hipster)
Me: People have said I'm a nerd with hipster like tendincies!

It feels like a lot of people are ready to sweep 2010 under the bathroom rug like yesterdays stray hairs. I, on the other hand, loved this year. It held alot of changes for me. Some good and some bad.
Bullet points of the good:
-Best summer ever
-Living in a new house with amazing folks

So to all the new friends I've made. I like you all alot or else I wouldn't talk to you.
To all the friends I lost to the south. I miss you.
To Tina Fey, please be my friend.
To all three readers of this blog. Thanks for indulging me. I love you.


Drag - clothing that is conventionally worn by the opposite sex

Went to my first drag show ever tonight.

I want to be a drag queen.

It embodies every aspect of theatricality I love.


Monster - an imaginary creature usually having various human and animal parts

The game got canceled due to illness. So Nick and I started watching Series 3 of Doctor Who. It's the only one I don't own due to some series Martha hate.

"I'll give series three one thing. They have some good monsters. I actually like 3 alot I just don't like Martha Jones."
"Ah. They're aliens, not monsters."
"Thanks dad."
"I know you're used to fighting monsters tonight. But you need to be more sensitive with your language."


Ham - a cut of meat on an edible mammal's rear

Happy Christmas.
I returned home on Christmas Eve with a quarter of ham and better presents. I went shopping early enough in the day that the crowds didn't make me want to commit seppuku. On the drive home I listen to John Denver and The Muppets. I wrapped presents while watching Clue, a tradition I stole from Amy Witherby. My aunt's boyfriend brought me two packs of Stella and my mom confessed she had one waiting in the fridge for me. They know me too well.

Christmas went off without a hitch. Everyone liked everything. I now have a game system that I can stream Netflix to which will only increase my agoraphobia. I took a long nap and watched a Buffy marathon on some slasher cable channel. I did two baskets of laundry. Knitted until my hands ached. Finished Y: The Last Man. I would escape when things got too loud, dick around on the internet. Played Mario. Stole lots of ham to take home. Read a little.

Around the time I began violently sneezing because of the cats I decided to go home. I ate popcorn. Watched almost two whole seasons of Primeval. Am currently watching Star Wars on cable. For once, it's nice being alone in the house. Usually I get a paranoid feeling when I'm alone in the house, like someone is watching me or out to get me. I've always had this fear, since I was little, that my life will turn into a horror movie.
A creep getting creeped out.


Snippet - A small piece of something

A snippet of actual conversation between my mother and I.

Mom: What are you watching?
Me: A modern retelling of Alice in Wonderland....
Mom: Oh...........Is it British?
Me: No. It was aired on SciFi. But I mean, yes, there are British people in it.
Mom: Ah....Okay. So what's new in Kyle?
Me: Ummmm.. nothing. I was hit in the face with a hammer and rolled a nat 20 arcana....
Mom: *walks away*

I went home too early. That is, I went home early yesterday afternoon, thinking I could occupy myself for many days with cleaning, reading, knitting, cooking, baking. Wrong. It felt like I'd arrived to a movie set too early. So I watched this modern retelling of Alice on my computer. Then I watched it with commentary. Then I found myself feeling very anxious. Then I wanted to go back to my own bed as soon as possible. It was the first time ever I didn't find infinite comfort in my mother's house.

I fell asleep that night on the couch watching Adult Swim and was awoken by my cat every few hours. I then transferred to what is generally considered my 'bedroom' in the house. But it is a creepy bedroom. It once housed a pretty antique bed frame adorned with beautiful ornate carvings. But it was old and the wood frame broke one night while I was, in fact, asleep on it. After my grandparents died, one of their hospital beds replaced it. To be quite honest it freaks me out. I have this dark fantasy that if I sleep there it will malfunction and break me in half. Regardless, I did not sleep but read three sections of Y: The Last Man then decided to head back to Columbus and do some Christmas shopping I had 'forgotten' about.

Strange, I normally feel anxiousness and unease anywhere but my mom's house. In the past I felt as if I could spend days there and just sink into the couch. Today I wanted escape. There is nowhere to escape in Chillicothe, Ohio.


Bodice buster - An erotico-romantic novel or novella based on a historical plot

I want to talk about something that I feel is..at the same time, serious and silly. Fanfiction.

I remember, as a small child, first exploring and delving into the internets. I discovered a top ten list about fanfic. One of the list said, if there is a fandom, there is a fanfiction out there somewhere. Oh how true it turns out to be.

I also remember about eight months ago, a large group of friends (all whom have since moved south) and I went to trivia. During the scatter of drink ordering and pulling enough tables together a friend who had just recently found herself with a lot more time on her hands steals my notebook. The one I use to write down answers so other teams won't hear me trying to whisper the correct answers. She tears a page out of it and writes me a note, it reads: "I spent the whole afternoon reading Joker/Harley Quinn slash fic. TELL NO ONE." Which I guess I am doing now, but I never said who it was. So the secret remains safe.

I can't pinpoint when I started doing this. Reading fanfiction. I'm sure it began as a joke. A way to have a laugh at 3AM when I was fighting my endless battle with insomnia. It only became serious when I suddenly found myself out of college and with a lot more time on my hands. It only became serious when I started a favorites folder.

First off, let me say there is good fanfic and fucking horrible fanfic. Once you weed out the trash though I must say it can be quite enjoyable to read. In most cases (for me) it is a wonderful way to continue on a story that may have been ended to abruptly for me. Firefly is a great example. One season. We got one season and an awesome movie. But Kaylee ends up with Simon? I hated Kaylee and Simon together. It's so Pretty in Pink. I wanted more. I wanted different. I found it. You name it, it's out there. Current television shows. Cancelled ones. Books. Movies. There are even stories involving Greek Gods for crying out loud.

I am a child of instant gratification. I had to go out and buy LOST on dvd when my netflix wouldn't show up for another day because I had to know what happened on that island NOW. I love sitting through four and a half seasons of Moonlighting 'will they won't they' tension. But every now and then I get an itch. I love to get a different take on it, reading 'stolen moments' as they call them.

These things are my modern day bodice buster trashy romance novel. Free and a great way to kill time when I'm by myself in a hotel room and there isn't any good TV on.


Sleep - a naturally recurring state characterized by reduced or lacking consciousness

"You fall in that weird category where you're not exactly a girl and not exactly a dude. You have Liz Lemon like tendencies."
That's either the nicest or most awful thing that's ever been said to me. I can't decide. Not the Liz Lemon part. I liked that part.

I had a terrible day. I woke up and it felt like I hadn't gone to sleep. I felt as if I was sleep walking for 7 or so hours. On my way to work I had this sinking feeling that at any moment I'd pass out and drift into another lane. I then made it to work and realized I forgotten my swipe card and keys. Going about my morning I tried the following things to snap myself out of it.
Watch Beaker videos.
Read the blogs that make me happy.
Deep breathing.
Needless to say none of this works. I felt woozy and sick, my head was spinning and I couldn't concentrate on my directing. Even the scathing wit of Dr. Tate couldn't cure my ails. I decided to take a sick day then ate some food and passed out on the couch. I awoke four hours later, feeling sore, to a blinding white light in my eyes and the sound of a snow shovel on the walk way, which incidentally led to bad dreams.. I went Christmas shopping. I then went to the book store and bought a D&D rules compendium. The line was quite long so I read through it while I waited. Then I got that feeling. Eyes were on me. I slightly turn to see what can only be described as a man. He is like Harold Crick. He is also judging me. The slight crinkle in the forehead, a slightly upturned lip. What right does he have? I wonder what he is thinking. I sneak a look down to see what he is buying. Comic books. I suddenly don't care what he thinks. I'm tired and in no mood.
Really, dude?
He catches me catching him and makes panicked eye contact. I shoot him a nasty look. It's like nerd on nerd crime.


Amalgamation - the process of combining or uniting multiple entities into one form

"Can I ask a nerdy question?"
"It's more a question for the table."
"Go ahead."
"Did you guys read Dragonlance books?"
"I suppose I always had an idea of what they were based in. But really the connection just became apparent to me. I had shelves of those books. I used to go to out of print book stores to find old copies of the villain's series."

Truth time, Dragons of a Summerflame was the first book that really got me into reading, fantasy and otherwise. I read it in fifth grade and never stopped. Well I did, after the War of Souls series came out I just lost interest. Who were these new characters? I wanted my Tanis Half Elven back. They have been sitting, forgotten in a box for many years now. I have this dread feeling that they may have been sold. It's bittersweet since now I would love to go back to them after retroactively playing D&D.

Those stories were a definite gateway drug into my current nerdiness. I had a school girl crush on Raistlin Majere, which is weird to think of now. It may have had something to do with the darkness and light themes presented throughout. Forbidden feelings and all that crap. I think if I were to re-read them today I might be more of a Tanis girl.

Meet cute dream I had:
I am on a committee for a party at work. Its for writers, filmmakers, and other artists. So of course, we plan a Star Wars themed party. Classy as hell, it has AT-AT ice sculptures. Edible versions of various puppets throughout the film. Jawa waiters.
During the planning and running around I meet some of the writers attending that evening. One gives me his novel to read and I place it in my bag. None of them are memorable.
At the last minute I'm told I'll need to run to the bookstore. It seems no one remembered to grab stacks of books for the signing that night.
Smash cut to me running through a mall. My cat Magillicutty is running along side me (obviously) as I dodge people, jump over moving sidewalks, and duck into a comically large bookstore. As I run in I directly smash into someone, the contents of my bag spilling everywhere. The person I smacked into picks up the book I was given earlier and it turns out to be the very same writer. He takes my hand to help me up and I can finally see his face. Most people in my dreams have that vacuous store mannequin face. He is an amalgamation of possibly every attractive thing I have ever seen in a male. Bright eyes. Smiling. Smells like soap. Shortish ski slope hair. Argyle. Glasses. I'm sure he's wearing a bow tie or suspenders but I can't recall. His hand feels firm in mine. His thumb begins to trace small circles on the pad that connects my thumb and forefinger. He also doesn't let go of my hand as we continue to talk.
Then I open my eyes and realize I've overslept by an hour. Shit.


Cookies - a small, flat-baked treat, usually containing fat, flour, eggs and sugar.

I've been up since 9AM and am about to start my fifth batch of cookies. (As of 3PM) So far I've made Snickerdoodles and now I'm experimenting with chocolate chip butterscotch cookies. I can't stop. I've literally been listening to The Nerdist podcast all morning and keep making cookies from scratch.

I think it's a make up from being a laze all day yesterday. Getting up out of bed just to move to the couch; wear an ugly sweater and watch Battlestar Galactica and Wizard People. I think I just ate cheese its, sour patch kids, and cherry cola yesterday.

Some sort of mini blizzard came through today. I like to believe seasonal depression isn't a real thing, but today may change my mind. I had to force myself to leave the house and go to the store; I feel like an agoraphobic. The past week on the road I felt like I was one snide comment away from bursting into sobs. I can't pinpoint the trigger though. It's just as if this slight overcast is following me around constantly.

But let me nerd out on BSG for a bit. I just started watching it with a group of new friends that I watch True Blood with on Sundays. Once that season ended we started BSG. And now I can't stop. I also can't stop myself from looking at the wikipedia page online. I've already spoiled so much for myself like I did with Buffy but my ADD can't help itself. Although even with knowing who is a Cylon and pretty much what happens in the end, I'm still really enjoying the show and most of the time am on the edge of my seat. I've always been into great character stories regardless of genre. Pedistrain stories are a dime a dozen and I think the fantastical aspect of stories in the fantasty and scifi genre have been what's kept me coming back year after year. I'm almost done with season 1 and so far I love it. The idea of this huge fleet, yet you never see real sunlight or get to leave this enormous ship. I'm excited to watch the whole series. Even if it does put a damper on my social life.


Pessimistic - expecting the worst possible outcome

Ugh. I just read a facetious account of unemployment on a blog. Yes, it was written for laughs but jesus....I don't ever want to be that person. Living off of credit and surviving job to job as a 'starving arist.'

I love what I studied. I studied what I wanted to. Theatre. Design. Acting. Sure, now I realize I will never get anywhere real with an undergrad in arts. But shit, at least I was happy doing it, right? I can't say enough how happy I am to have a 'real job' doing something I love.

Last week I ran into an old college professor. She is insane and I love her. In between her hugging me and telling me how 'trendy' I looked in my old coat she asked what I was up to in this certain voice. I know this voice, it's how theatre people ask each other about their job status, somewhat tense, hoping for good news, but deep, deep down expecting to hear something like, "I'm still a waiter at the Denny's." Happily for me and possibly her, this is not one of those cases. I give her a brief discription, she lights up and replies, "OH! So you perform for a living!" Relief washes over her face. I come to realize she has been professoring for what must be over twenty years at this point. How many stories has she heard? The pessimist inside me says a lot more sad than good ones.


Snow- Frozen precipitation in the form of white ice crystals that fall in soft, white flakes.

Light reflecting off the snow outside my window forces me to sleep in less than I'd like to.

I woke up with this sudden craving for Wendy's, probably because I was watching The Waitress is getting married; yeah that's gross. I also have this urge to walk there in the snow. But I think the Wendy's is at least a mile away and my food would most certainly be cold before I returned home. Now, suddenly I'm remembering two years ago.

It was when the blizzard came through. Rachel and I decided to stay at her pre-fiance Steve's apartment. His heat was better and cheaper. He also had a nicer TV. Sometime around Saturday night when the streets still hadn't been plowed, I realized I was out of asthma medicine. Steve's cat Chewbacca wasn't helping my breathing, so I called in a prescription to the drug store across Kenny Road. Then Rachel ventured with me to retrieve my medicine.

The road looked like this: smooth undisturbed snow with two very deep tire tracks running up either side of the usually busy roadway. Few brave people are in their cars facing this level two mess so we should be able to cross the road without much incident. As we begin, we do see a car down the way that hasn't even crossed Henderson Road, we have plenty of time. We cross the south bound side of the road without incident, commenting on how nice everything will look until the plow trucks come through and snow eventually will turn brown and dirty. Rachel bounds over the north bound side like a rabbit. She has lived here her entire life and is used to dealing with this expulsion of the sky. As I begin my crossing, I take a misstep and place my foot within one of the deep tire tracks that is now slick and covered in ice.

I fall like a Hanna Barbera character, legs up in the air, ending up with my face in the snow and my ass presented to the night sky. The car is now crossing Henderson Road. Ah, shit.

I try to right myself but now cannot get out of the deep tracks. I keep slipping. I can't even get to my knees. At this point I begin to actually get a bit scared. I am wearing dark clothes and I'm not sure if this car will see me. When I get scared I begin to laugh. I also am laughing because this is pretty silly, sliding around in an icy divot.

 I scream and laugh, "Code Red! Code Red! Abort!" Rachel unleashes a fake girlie scream and comes back out into the snow covered street to help me up. As she gets me up we both begin to slip and legitimately scream together as a light bulb appears over my head and I yell, "Do a barrel roll!" We both roll out of the road and next to our current abandoned townhouse's welcome sign, a rock. It says Hearthstone.

We are catching our breath. Well, Rachel is. I'm having an Asthma attack. We look down the street and see the car that was supposed to ultimately lead to our doom hasn't made much progress in the snow. We get to laughing again and once my breathing is under a semblance of control, we continue our quest for Albuterol.

I think I'll drive to Wendy's.


Undisclosed - not made known

I always have strange dreams around the time weather turns cold. For instance, last night I dreamt I was snorting cocaine while PAing for a Canadian news channel. During the night the scenarios constantly shift and meld into each other. Then for some reason it's a bunch of twenty somethings watching a Pokemon movie in a 200 seat theatre. Not an empty seat in the house. I'm about to leave when I'm pulled on to the lap of a man whose lap I honestly don't mind sitting on.

I enjoy human contact. But whenever someone else touches me I still get jumpy and embarrassed.

The movie turns out to be epically boring and everyone begins to nod off, including me and this boy. Absentmindedly he begins to ghost his hands over my arms. Up. Down. Up. Circle. Down.

It's nice. I feel at ease. I wish I could be this relaxed in real life.


Happiness - state of mind or feeling characterized by contentment, love, satisfaction, pleasure, or joy.

This morning in another autopsy program...
"Today's Sesame Street is brought to you by the letter Y, for Y-incision."
*cue me laughing un-professionally off camera again*
I swear, it's like he does this on purpose.

While filling out paperwork this morning, the fact that the year is almost over fully hit me. I'm really happy with how this year is turning out. I love the friends I've made. I love the house I live in. I love my roomates. I had one of the greatest summers of my life. My job is awesome. I feel so stupidly happy and laugh constantly. The pessimist in me feels like I should be knocking on wood every five minutes.

Then, the times where I start to get down, I just think: "At least I don't have this job."


Craving - an intense, urgent, or abnormal desire or longing

tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

What's happening? Do I need a cigarette? I feel like I do.

tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

I can't stop fidgeting or moving. I'll try something salty. Make popcorn. Doesn't help.

tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

I keep doing this to my chin, tapping my knuckle against it. I was fine a second ago...chocolate. I need chocolate. I feel stupid for falling into this girlie trope but maybe if I just get a little chocolate I'll calm down. One thing though. I despise chocolate therefore never keep any around the house. I check again and again, maybe I hid some somewhere for such emergencies. I zip in and out of the kitchen like a crack addict. I open the freezer and see a pint of something called buckeye blitz Nick's friend brought over during the Michigan game.

Me: Do you mind if I have a little bit of this? I feel like I might slit someones throat if I don't get chocolate.
Nick: Ummm...
Casey's eyes slightly widen but he keeps a level voice: I think you really only have one option here.
Nick: No, I kind of want to have fun with this.
Casey: I mean it comes down to either you or me.
Me to Nick: Yeah and you already wrote your rent check...

The two of them debate this for a bit longer while I in turn go for fuck it and take one scoop of the ice cream. Eating it is what I imagine great sex to be like. I feel bad. I try to keep 'girl crazy' to a minimum but tonight it boiled over.

Nick: I'm just worried because the last time you craved chocolate was when we were in Lima then the next day you were a total bitch and explained to me what was going on.
Me: No, it's too soon for that. (I mock whisper to Casey) I think I might be pregnant.

Later still I sit at the table with Nick-
Me: It can't be that time, right?
Nick exasperated: I don't keep track of your cycles.
We then both laugh until tears are in our eyes.

Replacement - The act or process of replacing or of being replaced; substitution.

In place of a real Thanksgiving I participated in Nick's second family one on Sunday. Walking on the wild side, I decided to take a crack at cooking something real and thanksgiving-y so I went for scalloped potatoes.

Now we must note that real cooking turned into me grabbing two boxes of dehydrated potatoes (because my mom told me I wouldn't have the patience to scallop real potatoes). However I defend that I actually did cook because I added butter, water, and milk...well almost.

After turning on the oven and pulling out the casserole dish I received last year in an assortment of cooking ware, (my exact thought: When the frak am I going to use this) I empty out the contents into a bowl and begin to boil water opting to do so in a sauce pan and not a microwave as I always seem to burn myself with boiled microwave water, it loves to bubble up and out over the Pyrex glass and make my skin bubble like the wafflecone irons did at the Cold Stone that served as my first job.

So I add the powder, dehydrated potatoes, and large slab of butter to a mixing bowl, then realize I should just start this off in the casserole dish cause the sauce might not transfer well. I transfer the dry contents over to the dish. After the water has come to a steady boil I slowly pour the contents into the dish. Next instruction: whisk. Okay, I can do that, it used to be one of my jobs in the kitchen when I was small. I still do it with eggs today.

Whisk whisk whisk until the butter is melted.

By this time the oven has started to heat up and I place the concoction on the rack.

The house stove and I have a love/hate relationship. I love it because it is gas and I haven't gotten to use a gas stove since I lived back home in San Diego. I am totally one of those snobs who thinks gas stoves cook better. I hate it because the internal thermometer in the oven does not regulate temperature therefore so it goes straight to broil no matter what temp you set it at. It leads to a complex dance of constantly checking temperature, turning the oven on and off, opening the door to let it cool off. Once I had to watch it for just five minutes while Casey ran to the store.

So I can't leave the kitchen, I decide to clean out the fridge which can accumulate a lot of crap with four people living here. During this time I throw away some old milk, a brown head of lettuce, bad dressing, and five jars of moldy pasta sauce. It clears out a lot of room in the fridge which is good as we'll surly be having some leftovers after tonight. As I'm consolidating I notice that I bought milk at the store this morning.

My internal monologue goes something like this:
'Milk? Why? I never drink it and usually just thieve some for the two drops I use when I have cereal once a month. Why would I buy-Ah CRAP!'

I check the back of the Betty Crocker box, just to be sure; add 2/3 cup of milk.
Piss and vinegar.
The stuff has already been in the oven for ten minutes, I pull it out and to my own astonishment blindly measure out a little over 1 1/3 cups of milk for the double recipe. Stir it in best I can and place it back into the oven. I hope this works...

I keep a close eye on the project and after 25 minutes hear the timer go off and pull my albeit slightly botched project out. Once I set it on the stove top I notice a black looking bubble of death has begun to form over the top of the casserole dish. It looks like a burnt marshmallow. I remember scalloped potatoes should be slightly golden brown but this just looks plain unnatural.
 I take a toothpick and pop it with much delight then drag it off the top. I cover it and crack open a beer to celebrate.
Peoples begin to arrive, Joanna cuts the turkey, Brandon shows up with a bota box of wine, and folks begin to eat. I take a tentative bite of the potatoes, they taste just fine. Just like when mom made them.

Later, Brandon, Casey, Casey's sister, and I sit picnic style in the kitchen drinking boxed wine and having thanksgiving. Casey and I discuss for maybe the millionth time how we need to talk to the landlord about getting our dryer and oven fixed. I love to bake and haven't done laundry in a few weeks, I'm inclined to agree.

Even later, whoever is left at the party has begun playing apples to apples. During the game our landlord magically appears with air filters. I, admittedly a bit wine drunk, approach him to inquire about the dryer and stove. He starts looking at it right then! Yayyy! About halfway through writing this blathering post I hear our landlord once again re-enter. He is installing a new stove as I type. Words cannot describe the feelings I'm experiencing. All five of my readers will have to come over for some baked goods. Even the ones in Denmark.

All in all, last night may have been one of the better, if not the best Thanksgiving I've ever been apart of.


Done - Finished

After two and a half days off from work, I am officially bored to an epic level.
I've tried playing Final Fantasy. I've tried cleaning. I've tried reading. Nothing is working.
I'm this close to summoning Jareth.


Squirming - Wriggle or twist the body from side to side

I won't go into the dirty details, suffice to say I had a rough night of work. A small intermission of happiness occurred when I had dinner with a friend who just passed the bar exam but afterwards I spent a half hour curled up in the corner of my truck cab talking with my boss on the phone and trying to keep it together.

Upon arriving in my room, having no computer, I decided sleeping ten hours might be a good choice and proceeded to do so. I awoke at seven am to two picture messages from my boss containing reviews that had arrived from other schools evaluating my programs. The messages read:
"The best presenter we have ever had."
"Perfect presenter for elementary kids."
Waking up to that kind of awesome forces me to take a whole new perspective on this situation, I need to look at this as a challenge, not a day to simply put up with.

Hence, this morning I figured out how to pump myself up:
1) Coffee
2) Repeating Jessica's Daily Affirmation to myself
3) Playing Mika way too loud
4) Listening to Patton Oswalt's D&D Drawf songs about zombies

"Zombie ***** are very cold and their ass is full of vermin, but they don't have to breath, so their ******** leave you squirming."

Today I found it takes very little to make me happy.


Thanksgiving - a public acknowledgment or celebration of divine goodness

Holidays are upon us. Mom told me, "It's okay if you don't come down for Thanksgiving," which in mom means, "I don't want to cook," which is fine. We see each other all the time. Though further thought makes me realize it will be my first time by myself. Hmm. I guess I'll do laundry.

Like everyone, there are things I dislike about the holidays:
Christmas music that plays before Thanksgiving day.
Decorations appearing before Halloween.
Thanksgiving not getting its due justice.

But one thing above all others I can love. One thing I wouldn't mind being around all year, and that's holiday cups. I'm thankful for holiday cups! They can brighten up even my dourest morning.


Shadowy - Full of shadows

*Note: This actually happened to my very good friend who recently moved to NYC.*
Me at Forbidden Planet today: "Look! Doctor Who stuff! Hey, they have sonic screwdrivers!"
My friend (who also likes sci-fi nerdy things but is more into Star Trek): "Why do they look different?"
Me: "They are from different Doctors. This one is the eleventh doctor's, and this one is the tenth doctor's, and this one is the third!"
My friend: *fierce judgment* "Umm... how do you know that?"
Me (defensively): "It's on the boxes!! It says it on the boxes! I didn't just *know* that!"
[awkward pause]
"Although I may have known that by looking if it didn't say, at least for eleven and ten."
My friend: *sad judgment*

It's been radio silence lately. My week has been decisively un-nerdy and stupidly busy. All I've done is worked then I've been so tired from said work when I get home I immediately sit on my couch and catch up on movies I've been missing out on. For quick reviews in ten words or less,
RED: Boring, though Helen Mirren is still smoking hot.
Social Network: Better than expected, excited to see Andrew Garfield as Spiderman.
Some Kind of Wonderful: Eric Stoltz is beautiful. Pretty in Pink with a better ending.
Toy Story 3: Still makes me miss my childhood. Monkeys are scary.

This is literally the only cool thing that happened to me this week. Here I am, driving home from work, talking to Joe on the phone. I need to change lanes, I put my signal on and check my blind spot. Oh wait, where did that car come from? Why is it purple? In my blind spot is an 80's PURPLE Lincoln, just like in the Batman movie circa 1989 Tim Burton version!

I have this feeling of unease. I keep seeing things in my periphery that aren't really there. Driving has become erratic. Conversations I'm convinced happened turn out to be an invention of my dreams. Unnerving. Days past I would have fancied myself at the start of my own personal adventure story, playing the main character who is in a slight rut but mostly happy, then my world is turned upside down by a shadowy figure. That delusion is almost preferable to this anxiety.



"Alright, another example of a contact force is friction. In order to show you this I want everyone to take there hands and clasp them together like this. Now I want you to rub your hands back and forth like a mad scientist. Muahahaha!"

I awoke at six am today for a show at seven, so obviously my insomnia decided to make a full comeback last night. My brain and body do the most absurd things during this time. As I am about to fall back to sleep I suddenly get an itch on the crown of my head or my knuckles need to be cracked. At the exact moment between sleep and wakefulness I get hypnic jerks in my legs or arms and think I'm about to fall off my bed. This time my brain decided to randomly go over the chronology of various Jackass shows and what order they aired in. It's 2:48am, I know if I turn on a light to read I'm doomed. So my mind remains in this insipid place; thinking about Johnny Knoxville.


I feel like a star should shoot over my head

Toward the end of the day a kid approaches me. He is somehow short yet incredibly lanky at the same time; he wears a green striped zip up and black jeans which would be an excellent outfit if he were only allowed to wear a newsboy hat with it. But alas, that don't allow hats in school anymore.

He asks me, "Do I have to make slime?"
"You don't want to?"
"Not really, I mean I know I should want to cause everyone else wants to, but I'd rather just spend more time at the other tables."
"That's fine. I just want to make sure everyone gets a chance, you don't have to if you don't want to."
"You're not going to make me?"
"No way dude, just cause everyone else wants to do something doesn't mean you have to too. That's your prerogative."
"Oh. Okay."
"Cool. Up top!"
We high five. He runs off. I wash my hands.



*While waiting for The Soup to start and watching a commercial for Kendra*
Kyle: You know Kendra was two years ahead of me in high school? She went to Clairemont; my 'rival' high school..
Nick: How are you not a whore?
Kyle: I'm in it to win it!
Nick: Which shows why you are drinking in your house with a gay man on a Friday night.
*cue the trumpet*

Arts & Crafts

My job is a lonely life. When I’m on the road I usually go restaurants and turn into those business people eating alone I used to feel sorry for. Last night though, I was able to eat dinner with Joe whom was in the same area as me.

We went to a steakhouse nearby holding a shiny coupon from my hotel that entitled us to a free appetizer. As we sit down and unroll our napkins I notice the silverware. “Fun fact, this silverware is designed in the style of Arts & Crafts. The little pings and imperfections on the handles were kept as a way to show the craftsmanship as a counter movement to assembly line furniture at the turn of the 20th century.”

Joe just stares at me.



I awake this morning with blood coming out of my nose and just know it’s going to be a great day. I’ve lived in Ohio for five years now and haven’t had bloody noses since high school. Why now? I’ve grown accustomed to living a normal nose bleed free life. After twenty minutes trying to stop the bleed I brush my teeth and suddenly feel a cough coming on, in place of what I expect I get a sizeable clot of blood. It’s going to be a fantastic day.

I’m going to need some coffee. Hotel coffee: no good. Once I’ve finished packing up I exit the hotel and hop into my truck, turn on my GPS and glance at my arrival time. 8:45. Fantastic, I have plenty of time to get coffee. The closest place is a Starbucks inside of a Target to which I venture.

Once inside I stand behind a balding man with a golf windbreaker and an older woman holding a humidifier. The barista, an impossibly skinny boy named Clayton, is having some trouble with the regular coffee dispenser and spends some time fiddling with that. No matter to me, I have all the time in the world. After the meek looking teen gets the man his coffee and latte I assume the two will move on and enjoy their coffee elsewhere. Oh not so quick, it seems this man forgot to order two more large black coffees. The boy interjects, “You mean Venti’s?” Oh Christ, this fucking argument. Just get the stupid twit his coffee so I can get mine, but no these two spend the next 48 seconds back and forth on coffee sizes. This argument has been played out; it’s been played out since 2002. Stop it. Finally the man pays and grabs his tray looks to his lady friends and states, “It was nice to meet you.” What? You’re not together? Why were you standing that close to each others personal bubbles? “I’ll have two tall vanilla lattes.” At least this woman isn’t trying to fight the sad fight against Starbucks sizing. Referring to her humidifier, “And I’ll be taking this out to my car, I’ll be right back to get my coffees.”

Finally it’s my turn to order, I rattle it off quickly and efficiently, have my card ready. I’ll be out of here soon. I turn around to find in this space of time four other people have accumulated behind me. This poor lone barista, shouldn’t you be in high school learning about hormones?

Another man approaches simultaneously talking in his blue tooth while ordering. I hate people who stay on the phone at registers, I disliked it when I worked a register, I still do. He orders a beverage the barista has obviously never heard of and the man makes an annoyed grunt slash sigh as he explains it. “It’s steamed milk, with caramel mixed it.”


After this exchange I expect him to get to my drink, but no, he hasn’t even made the lady’s vanilla lattes yet. He is so flustered, so very poor at multitasking. He steams the milk for each drink separately and is oh so meticulous about how he puts lids on while asking if the lady needs holders or plugs. This poor kid is trying so hard to be good and these people are giving him mean looks and huffing, leaving the line and coming back. I want to give this kid a hug. A hug and some help.

Meanwhile 15 minutes have gone by since I first stepped foot in this Target. In my mind’s eye I see the arrival time on my GPS ticking up and up…losing time and making me later and later. It’s so stressful to be told exactly when you will arrive somewhere; I know I will be late even before I try.

At last a lady arrives to help this child with his register so he can make drinks. However he has now lost his place and must read each of his individual chicken scratches to figure out what to make next. I now begin to believe I may never get my precious caffeine and that I will die in this line, just waste away to nothing while I wait. By the time they call my drink I will no longer be here, I will just be a pile of dust and rat droppings, having died with no caffeine in my system and the last thing I tasted will be a glob of blood.

Suddenly I get pulled out of my dark fantasy as my drink is called, 'I will be nice to this boy', I think to myself. “Thanks so much, have a great day!” I grab it and flee to the truck.


Dreams and Extremes

I'm photographing a children's race when suddenly a class of five year olds burst in the room chased by a flock of penguins. They proceeded to rehearse a choreographed dance then played patty cake and built castles with play doh.

I also have a waking dream (where I'm awake but not quite all the way) where an extension cord transforms into a sixteen foot snake and chases me. Later that day while watching The Walking Dead there is a commercial with a large reticulated python slithering all over a woman trying to sell juice, it is the only point during the night I close my eyes.

Amongst a leftover feast my mom and Rachel's mom place out I take a scoop of potato salad and place it on my plate. My mothers eyes turn into little black beads her brow raises quizzically and she says, "Wait, you hate mayonnaise. Since when have you eaten potato salad?" I look at her and quietly take a bite of the concoction, her head proceeds to explode and little bits of her brain land on my plate. Well I DID like potato salad (I bet you did too).

While Rachel's fiancee Steve plays a Wii hunting game I say: "Where is the sport in hunting a squirrel? That's like a senior in high school beating up someone in kindergarten."

Me (in basement): MOM! Do you know where my Dragonlance books went?
Steve: WHAT? Kyle next you'll be looking for your Magic cards.
Me (still in basement): No, I already looked for those. Can't find them anywhere-

Rachel: What was it I said to you at City Walk?
Me: "You're going to need to learn to tolerate men if you ever want to get one?"
Rachel: Yeah! Because this guy comes over to us; and Kyle can never hide her judgement on her face.
Me: That guy called me a triple lesbian.
Rachel: She looks over her glasses at people, yeah, like she's doing to me right now, she raises her eyebrow and looks at people like that.
Okay maybe a little.. but that guy was a drunky drunk drunk.
And all he talked about was how he was in a band and was going to be drummer for The Black Keys and how he was from Massachusetts. For an hour. Over and over and over again.

After getting home from moms, all I want to do is put on flannels but Casey tempts me out with The Walking Dead on a movie screen. As we enter and sit:
Patrick: Everyone, fellow nerds Casey and Kyle.
Casey: Wow. You just came out and said it.
Patrick: What, did you think you were fooling anyone when you walked in here?

During the second commercial break a Dr. Joyce Brothers commercial for life alert comes on and Casey shouts: "AIM FOR THE HEAD!" I silently giggle throughout the rest of the episode.

To be fair, she does look terrifying.


Current temp: 33°F

"I was suprised you did so well, Mills and I thought you would blow long before that. You like your alone time, you're not a super girly girl, if you're not in the mood to do something or don't like something you can't put a fake smile on your face and bare it. That's just who you are."

Even after almost a year apart, my cousin can still summize my character in a few sentences.

In other news, it's freezing here.


No blue Monday in your Sunday clothes

If I could pull it off I would wear dresses and stockings everyday. I love dressing up for work, heck I like dressing nicely in general. I wish it was a requirement that every month the general populous had to be classy and dress in period clothing. The period would change every month. Empire one month, Edwardian another, but nothing past the 1940's. I wish guys still wore bowlers everyday, that and three piece suits.
Pajama pants are almost considered acceptable outerwear nowadays yet it's almost impossible for me to find a decent vest. Does that seem right to you?


I knew there was a reason I couldn't do this today!

This is also what I do with a whole day off. That is, watching the first three discs of Community with commentary.


Fellow co-worker and nerd Elaine is getting married this weekend. This means people are coming to town which means I'll have four people staying in my house this weekend and that means: CLEAN THE HOUSE.
I love hardwood floors. Something about them makes me feel classy and old timey. Also the creaky floors make it easy for me to know where people are at all times which pleases my creepy dark side.

One downfall of hardwood, the dust and hair that accumulates overtime, not even overtime, over one frakkin day. This is just from the stairs. Gross.

I used to hate cleaning. Now its something that I do to almost relieve stress or something to do when I'm bored or need to occupy my hands. It has results you can really see. It may have something to do with the fact that around wintertime every year I hate going outside and this deep seeded desire to become a housewife emerges out of me, where I get to wear 50's inspired dresses and yellow cleaning gloves and vacuum with high heels on. The small iota of feminist that resides somewhere inside screams but I secretly love the idea. The idea of baking and knitting all day turns me on a little. Getting a part time job in a small coffee/bookshop.

Though I know if it was really like that for me, I'd hate it.


Pot have you met Kettle?

Setting up for a Science of Harry Potter program this morning, two guys, and me:

Me: Oh what, did Nick tell you how we got the piss scared out of us at 2am this morning?
J: No, he did tell me you called him a nerd for starting to watch Doctor Who then went into the kitchen to play Dungeons and Dragons.
Me: It's D&D Gamma World. Get it right.

Some people say I've done alright for a girl

My memory has been very touch and go lately.

Today I forgot how to spell the name of a childhood friend. She had an uncommon name, like me, though this is not why we became friends. The first day of pre school being cripplingly terrifying, like most children left alone for the first time, I cry. She approaches, we become best friends, we stay that way until I move away. End of story. It made me very sad to forget her name. I tried google stalking her but to no avail, my internet stalking talent only extends to the walls of the facebook kingdom. I wonder if we'd be friends if we met today and not our first day of preschool. I want to know if her grandma is still alive.

In spite of this lapse I can still recite nearly every line from 30 Rock and Community episodes. I can remember obscure facts about costume and architectural periods. I remember tons of random phone numbers but can't recall who they call. I know songs but can never identify the artist who sings it.

I do remember when we were little, we'd play in her front yard. Pretend to be in what was probably a 19th century London workhouse with a cruel overseer. We'd spend our time escaping work and instead would save snails from the overseer by throwing them over her fence. I was a strange child. Still am.


Nothing like getting the old blood pumping round 2 in the morning. I feel how my mom must have felt awaking to every early morn asthma attack.


I've got a

Things I'm excited about right now:
The song Brand New Key by Melanie
Kaylee costume
The Community Halloween episode
Amy Witherby being in town this weekend
Halloween in general
Elaine and Bryan's wedding
Rachel coming home for Elaine and Bryan's wedding

Things I'm not excited about right now:
Waking up at 6:30am
A fading crush
Adults laughing at my college degree choice
This impending Asthma attack
EG for Hire moving away (Even though I'm super excited for her)



For my mother's birthday luncheon we decide to keep it simple and eat burgers from her favorite place. Chillicothe, OH is great for people watching and we both love to do it. So observation time...

An old couple come in with a daughter or possibly a caretaker. My back is to the door so I see them in the following order; the old man walks by first, he is wearing a panama hat and by the looks of his pants he heard we'd be having some flash flooding later today. He also wears a snappy Members Only jacket that's color can only be described as a glorious sea foam green. The sort of green that you see on a website and it makes your eyes hurt. My astigmatism is screaming. Then it only gets better, his cute little wife walks in wear pants THE EXACT SAME COLOR as her husbands jacket. Was this planned? I don't want it to be, I want them to both come out of their separate walk in closets, see one another, have a laugh then say 'Fuck it' and go have some hamburgers, looking like they stole a piece of clothing from each other.

At a different table to my left there are two ladies enjoying a meal, dressed normally. Then this woman joins the table, her outfit is something to behold. A sort of royal blue sweatshirt with matching pants and some striped pink layer barfing out of the bottom of her sweatshirt. Her hair is contained in some blue netting that causes her hair to look like a flower pot. She looks like an escaped citizen of Whoville.
But this isn't the strangest part. Her shoes. The shoes!
They are a sandaled wedge with a fat strap that cover the frontal part of her foot. But this isn't even the best part because they're clear. Clear and plastic, like something a stripper would wear. You can see straight through the wedge and through the fat strap to her feet. At least I could if I could see her feet, I can't because they are currently covered in argyle socks. Wait, what?
Why these shoes with this outfit? More importantly why is she wearing socks with these shoes? These shoes a barely appropriate in the workplace setting unless you are in gentleman's entertainment but then she confuses even more by adding socks only old men and hipsters wear. While getting dressed today maybe she thought, "This outfit isn't fashionable enough. I need something to spice it-OH! I have it, clear heels! But it is quite chilly out today, I'd better be on the safe side and add a pair of socks."

I suddenly look down at my own outfit; a wrinkly blue striped oxford, a pair of hipster shorts, completed with a pair of loafers, no socks. Plus on top of it all I haven't washed my hair today so currently I am wearing a giant tan knit cap. I'm sure all three of those people are judging me too.



My mom turned 57 five hours ago.
During a small celebration of bad (and I do mean bad) Mexican food and squat little beers with limes wedged into them, she askes me about D&D and I talk to her about other meaningless crap in my life.

I try and force a moment between us saying that if things had been different and I'd been stuck without her, my life would have been drastically different. I'm sure I'd have gone the rebellious teen route and probably still be stuck working at the movie theatre in Clariemont Square. Not sure what came over me but I did watch Kramer vs. Kramer that afternoon so I'll blame that. I could just come out and simply say it only dawns on me now how tough it must have been for her, being a single parent.
Having zero help.

Instead I go for this alt universe crap. But I don't want to make a scene in the brightly lit restaurant so I'll blame that. She's good at sniffing out these false movie-esque moments I attempt to create and has become skilled at redirecting the conversation to more neutral ground.
"What was it you always used to eat whenever we'd get Mexican?"
"Cheese Quesadillas."
"Yeah and sprites with lot of cherries in em."
"But no Grenadine cause that's nasty. You would always get a margarita on the rocks, no salt. Then I'd only eat shrimp for seafood and no hot dogs but I would eat hot dog buns with ketchup."
"Then every Thrusday night we'd go get pizza, you'd sign checks and I'd rescue scared kids from the slide."

I was supposed to take her to Chicago for a taping of Wait Wait Don't Tell Me! but tickets ran out. Instead we've been watching movies and just hanging out, which is still wonderful. We sit in her bed and watch All About Eve and we discuss stupid meaningless shit, then I can't sleep because the stupid cat keeps getting in my way.

Even now as I type this she rushes in at 5 am to turn on an old movie, Night of Lepus, about bunnies terrorizing Arizona.
Oh my God it is awesome.



When I told my mom:
I took my mom to Aladdin's eatery one weekend for lunch.
Me: So I want to tell you something before you hear it from someone else like Rachel or something..
*Mom looks nervous*
Me: I've started playing DnD....Dungeons and Dragons.
Mom: Pshaw...okay, *her eyes cast down and to the left* nerd.
Me: *laughing* What!?
Mom: God you are such a dork. I thought you were pregnant! Honestly, I'm not surprised, I was shocked you, David, and Yvonne didn't start playing with Jim in San Diego...
Me: Shut up.


You're really growing on me

I'm sitting in my car at a red light.
The Darkness is blaring out of my speakers. Recently rediscovered dusty and sadly miss used in boxes containing what is left of my teenage years.
I still remember every word. I remember 4am in the throes of battle with my insomnia, first seeing the video on television.
I'm jealous of how he can hit notes I can only reach toward. I begin to tap my fingers, my left foot, wiggle my shoulders, dancing like a white guy on 80's night. I lift my arms up and begin to toss my hair from side to side, a new sensory experience cause my hair has never been this long.
A honk blares out and I'm thrown back into present, my hair is mussed, I see a hipster in the car behind me looking angry, the light has turned green.


Me: I have a killer headache after an epic DnD night. Then I made a poor choice and ate Taco Bell.
Amani: lol!
Me: we fought angels. so cool.
Amani: you are such a nerd
Me: proud of it
Amani: i know you are

More good news at this early hour. I won a major award! A contest over at EG for Hire for the ideal job. My entry:

We here at (insert trendy name) industries are searching for what some might call that special someone, and we hope it’s you. Your job responsibilities would include daily scouring of YouTube, Twitter, Facebook, and Today’s Big Thing, in search of that next big thing. Time would also be spent compiling history and origins of internet phenomena (i.e.: Ebaumsworld) for articles and the like. Occasional acting in internet content is required of all employees in tandem with developing new content for the masses to enjoy. Each week would include daily meetings (screenings) reviewing the latest TV shows, movies, music, books, and developments in RPGA’s. Some weekend days are required to attend concerts and comic conventions, all travel and food will be compensated. In lieu of applications, please send in YouTube videos featuring you in an eating contest.

I will use my prize of candy only for good.
I tried to make some honey snickerdoodle cookies tonight. They tasted good but aesthetically were a disaster. The honey solidified to the pan and looked like a melted flan creature from a Final Fantasy game.
I have the next three days off of work, a mental health holiday if you will. I'm going to finish my Halloween costume and sit in coffee shops and kill time. It will be wonderful.



Proud moments of the day: Joe bought an awesome shirt from TeeFury (to summarize, it's a bomb that is made up of several smaller bombs from movies and pop culture) and Derek and I spent some time examining the shirt to figure out what each was from which happened pretty quickly as it's a very geeky shirt. At some point I turned back to my computer to work on something, a minute later Derek and Joe were stuck on one. I turn back around and glance at it,
"'You are one ugly mutherfucker.' It's Predator."
"Hey, you're right! Nice call, Kyle!" cue the high five.
Looks like all nights of shunning social interaction finally paid off.

After our meeting the entire team goes out to lunch together, as Mondays are a rare time we are all together. During said lunch, I begin to tell a story to Chris about an epic DnD session last week. Jonathan, whom I love dearly, begins to speak in typical 'nerd voice' and pantomiming pushing glasses up his nose. Chris and I  simultaneously and unexpectedly release the nerd rage we've been bottling up since seventh grade and simultaneously shout, "Fuck you! It's awesome! Play it and ONLY THEN can you make fun of it." It's a proud brotherhood moment.


Nightmare Before Christmas

Along with those princess quotes last week, Brandon had another gem regarding Nightmare Before Christmas.

Brandon- "If you stay quiet and admire from afar, he'll notice you eventually."


Rainn Wilson

A thing I hate about hotel rooms: I can't open windows to listen to the rain. It's kind of depressing because I sleep ridiculously well when it rains.

I opened the curtains to watch the lightning but to any outside party it most likely looks like I'm leering into the window of the Chuck E. Cheese next door. That's too creepy, even for me. I'm going to close the curtains.


Stockholm syndrome

This happened awhile ago, but I assume my brain has just been repressing it for a week now.

Last week we had a family dinner. Family being all the roommates and Brandon (practically a fifth roomie). We walked to the Indian place and ate frakkin delicious food. Amongst a mass of Monty Python/Community/Venture brothers quotes between Casey, Brandon, and me (sorry Parv and Nick), we started discussing princesses when Casey commented he though it was messed up that all other princesses got everything they could dream of, but Tiana in Princess and the Frog still had to work for a living. This transferred into how Disney movies send poor messages, then over the next five or so minutes Brandon managed to breakdown every princess movie in the lexicon.

I will paraphrase and take great liberties here:

Little Mermaid- Don't talk and change who you are. Guys will like you.
(Old hat)
Beauty and the Beast- Guys can look strange and still be awesome but with girls all that matters is looks. Also girls who read are weird.
(My favorite Disney movie.. it always hurts to hear this)
Snow White- Can't remember what he said.
(Probably cause I don't care for Snow White)
Cinderella- All about the class system. If she didn't have that gown she'd never gotten in and they'd have never fallen in LURVE.
Jasmine- Actually pretty cool.
(She is)
Mulan- Just be one of the dudes.
(I felt he was stretching with this one)
Sleeping Beauty- Date rape is a-okay.
And a PS...
Beauty and the Beast - A case for Stockholm syndrome.
(This I actually agree with, at least in the original story)

This was mostly said for humorous ends (it got me laughing). Though now, I've got to thinking more about this subject. I've heard various podcasts, family members, and general internet population bring this up, how Disney princesses shouldn't be role models. I agree, Disney princesses shouldn't be role models, they're cartoons, created to entertain us. It annoys me how people think a cartoon or movie can shape who a person is going to be. Beauty and the Beast is my favorite Disney movie and what I took from it was it's okay to read and how first impressions aren't always right. Little Mermaid is Rachel's favorite Disney movie and she is never one to shy away from her opinions or stating exactly how she feels.
Tons of things go into what makes a person a person. Parents, school, books, friendships, life experiences. One movie shouldn't affect an entire persons persona, it's only entertainment! It's like people who commit murders then blame tv shows for their actions. There are deeper seeded issues here. Not just what Showtime and HBO show on Sunday evenings.
I've kinda written myself into a corner here, so I'll just end on a Tracy Jordan quote.
"I don’t want to go off on a rant here!"


The battle of wits has begun

When I was in college, one of the kids in my department had a very similar name to me: Kyler. This was too close for comfort, who did he think he was? Having a name someone else chose for him so close to mine, he had to be stopped. I don't remember who moved first but ever since my junior year, we two have been engaged in a fierce battle. This has materialized in glaring contests, Suzuki and Viewpoint battles, and general venom spat in each others direction.

A time of peace settled over the war ground after Kyler got a chance to kill me in a Sketch By Number show (You'll have to forgive my terrible acting here). But today the battle hath begun again. This blog being posted started the whole thing. The following occurred on facebook chat between the hours of 10:35 and 10:40.

Me: Your so nice to me
Kyler: You thought this was over, but really it was just a ploy to hit you while you're vulnerable
Me: It was never over Kyler. It will never be over.
One day, you'll forget to look over your shoulder
and when that day comes....
I'll probably be in a coffe shop reading.
and learning to spell
Kyler: That's right. And I'll be at that coffee shop putting poison in your latte
Me: Nice try. I don't drink lattes.
Kyler: mocha
Me: I only drink coffee; that I grind with my bare hands. Like Chuck Norris.
Kyler: badass
Me: You know it
Kyler: Just wait, your time will come
Me: We'll see....we will see.
Kyler: fine!
*Kyler has signed off*

I will end him.

Becon of professionalism

Part of the work I do involves directing videoconferencing programming. It's a lot more interesting than it sounds. One of the programs we present involves a retired prosector guiding students through the procedure of an autopsy. Nothing speaks of my professionalism more than the middle of our show today when we get around to questions.

Student: What do you do with the organs once you slice them up?
Doctor: Well that all depends on if you have a good Chianti or not.
Me: *Burst out laughing behind the sound board*

The students hear me laughing over the system, they in turn begin to laugh. I throw the doctor off track for a second, then we continue on.

And the answer to why I'll never be a live TV director is....


Rip it up

I'm starting to think I should change the name of this blog to: Nerdy Things Joe Says.

So Joe and I are working and I see a new wallpaper on his desktop. This wallpaper:
I take it in. Appreciate it. Then I remark, "That's very pretty....what is it?" Joe replies, "The LHC." then turns to face me. I raise an eyebrow, "Huh?"

At this, Joe begins to shake his head gravely, then pantomimes taking something off my shoulder and begins to rip this invisible thing up.
"What is that?"
"I'm ripping up your nerd card."
"The large hadron collider, Kyle! Come'on!"
"I still don't-"
"The valentines day ep of Big Bang where Sheldon wants to go?" I've recently gotten him into TBBT.
I must still have a blank look on my face, because he continues to shake his head from side to side, judging me, as he always does.



The Segway we use is broken. Joe took it in to get fixed. We have just spent the last twenty minutes playing with a glorified light box trying to figure why the light it still turning on when you don't complete the circuit. Jordan has to go pick up the Segway tomorrow and he asks Joe for the number to the Segway store. After Joe gives it, as we are waiting for the elevator to go back to our desks, something bursts out of him quickly, like a child rushing in the door excited to tell you about their day.

"You know I really want to call the Segway store one day and when they say 'Hello' just say, 'Yes. I'm in the middle of an awkward conversation can you help me out of it?'

I stare at him, dumbfounded, for what feels like hours. Then I just begin to laugh, snort, and giggle and I shuffle in for a hug that just ends up being around his torso, because Joe is eleven feet tall, it's like being a little girl again and hugging your mothers leg, it's the only way I can think of to show how much I appreciate this, and I say, 'God that was so nerdy.'


Truman Show

*Snippet of an actual conversation between EG for Hire and myself*
Me: Have you ever seen The Truman Show?
EG: Yes.
Me: Ever think your in it?
EG: *promptly answering* Sometimes!
Me: Thank God.
EG: Like when I'm driving and an appropriate song for the situation comes on...
Me: When I was in the Cleve this week I had this desk clerk that I interacted with a few times because I had to change rooms.
EG: What was wrong with the room?
Me: It was locked from the inside, so either it was still occupied or there was probably a dead body in there. But he was just a normal guy. Kinda short, round face, flat hair, had a beard. Very gentle looking.
EG: Nice description.
Me: Thanks. So that happened, then yesterday I went to the corner market, you know the one on northwest with the big sign that points to food and beer?
EG: Yes!
Me: I walk in there last night, and it's the same exact guy! And the first thought that pops into my mind is, "Was he recast?"
EG: Awwww!

I love talking to this girl because she is always on board and knows exactly where I'm coming from. We also both check behind shower curtains in strange bathrooms to make sure nobody is in there.

After this conversation we went to a lovely bridal shower for our friend Elaine. Then when I got home, Nick showed off his POG collection and tried to give me an OSU slanket (Ohhh, can't wait to get the flu so I can use this) which I politely declined (Get that thing out of my room! This is a clean space!) as Casey tried on new clothing and likened himself to the 12th Doctor. I giggled. Nick looked disturbed he understood what we were talking about.


Ever since I graduated, every time I go to a theatre party I end up feeling incredibly old. Half the kids who walk through the door look like they're thirteen, young to a point that the first thing I think when I lay eyes upon them isn't 'Should they be drinking,' but more, 'Shouldn't they be in bed? Or at Trumpet practice? Or a rec center lock in?'

While in the kitchen talking to a person I did not want to be talking to my nerdar went off. I love to seek these conversations out and I desperately wanted out of this current conversation. I walk to a closed bedroom that in a very Cheech and Chong like manner billows out smoke as soon as I open the door. I hate going into these rooms, it's like smoking with a gas mask on. As soon as I go home I know I will have to strip down and throw everything I'm wearing into the washer. For the next week when I take showers a cloud of stale smoke that has been silently waiting in my hair will be released no matter how many time I wash it. But what I hear and see inside is too good to miss, so I check for traps and I go in.

In the smoke room, where I do not partake, I ask a girl if she's finished the Death of Superman series her and I had discussed earlier that month when a bitter argument over Marvel vs. DC erupts. Names like Peter Parker are thrown aside and stepped on as garbage. Someone is casually pissing on Bruce Wayne's face in the corner. It's ugly, it's brutal, and for a minute friendships look as if they are about end. People are standing up in the heat of the moment and literally yelling in each others faces. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a machete, "I was always more of an Aquaman girl." I propose out of the blue. A mighty yell is heard and the entire room comes together to turn on me and begin another argument that I don't really care about. I said it to cause more controversy and redirect the conversation. In my head, I've saved millions. The girl whom I was originally talking to about Superman looks at me sweetly and we silently hold hands. It's a nice moment.



Even though a spring might pop out of my mattress at any moment and my sheets desperately need changed I never sleep better than my first night back. Although lately and mysteriously after three or four am outside of my windows it smells like a sewage plant, in a sick way I kind of missed it.
I'm home. So glad to be home.

The only downside is I'm up now cause I passed out at nine last night.



When I was little

I would listen to the Phantom of the Opera cast album alone in my room and act out the scenes I remembered.
For about three years I fell asleep to a CD of a rainstorm because it rained so little where I grew up.
Whenever I moved into a new home, I'd always figure out how I could sneak out of my room undetected. I never snuck out.
The last time I had a boyfriend, slap bracelets were still in style.
I was a Ninja for Halloween four years in a row.
I played my Clarinet for money during the local farmers market. I made about a dollar before they told me I had to stop.
I used to grow and dry my own tea leaves.
During summers, usually in July, I would bike down to my elementary school almost everyday to see if class lists had been posted so I could find out who my next teacher was going to be.
Between preschool and second grade, I would come home every day and watch one of three movies: Edward Scissorhands, Batman, or Who Framed Roger Rabbit.
As a baby when I wouldn't fall asleep my mom would drive me around in the car and let the hum of the engine lull me to sleep. Today I still get a little sleepy whenever a car is turned on.
I bought the four day pass to Comic-Con for three straight years.
Once I dressed up as an Anime character and participated in The Masquerade.
A dog jumped on me when I was very little and I still don't trust them. I need to remind myself everytime I see one not to be afraid.
I used to think cartoons were real people in brightly colored costumes.
At six I decided I was going to be a reconstruction artist in a funeral home. Once my mom 'played dead' for me so I could practice putting make up on people lying down.
In fourth grade I watched Nightmare on Elm Street and for a month wouldn't go to sleep unless every light in the house was switched on. I think this contributed to or even started my insomnia.
I always wanted to join Cross Country but couldn't because of my asthma.
I made S'mores in my living room by spearing a marshmallow on a kabob stick and roasting it over a candle.
I went to Target when I felt sad.


I just witnessed the climax to a film

I think I'm catching a cold.

I went to Panera to get an obscene bowl of chicken soup, on my way back I see some kids in their front yard.

They all looked super serious. For a minute I feel like an extra in a kids adventure movie. Just a random car in the background of a scene. They were all conversing and one girl, obviously the leader, was making wild hand gestures. The other group members were nodding in approval and at the end a boy shot his fist up in the air and shouted what I hope was, "Let's go!" I cannot be sure because my window was up. Then they all shot off down the street toward their adventure. They must be off to rescue a fallen friend or defeat a creepy neighbor that stole a baseball. A few of them are likely to be hurt but it's going to be a hell of a show.


Yesterday was a whirlwind of wonderful.

I went to my mother's home in Chillicothe under the pretense of borrowing some luggage (my road bag's shoulder strap snapped) but just ended up buying my own. It also turned into as a laundry trip as well. At some point we went to Carl's diner for lunch and were chatting (about certain men I may be interested in) when we were interrupted  by the high pitch squeal of a toddler nearby. The kind of squeal that only some dogs can hear. The kind that make you stop to see if a fire has broken out nearby. When it dies down I make a face and my mother retorts,
"There's what you need right there."
"Wait. What? Are you telling me in your own weird way you want grandchildren?"
"NO! Nooooo. No, that's okay. You just keep living your solitary, lonely, single life."
At this point I make a face, a what the fuck face if you will. My mother back peddles by saying,
"No I mean you can still kiss boys and give them special hugs. Just wear a condom."
I burst out laughing. The entire diner turns to look at our rickety little table in the corner. I glare at the diner. They go back to their meals. I continue to laugh. I love my mom.
SO much.

When I return to Columbus with all of my clothes clean for the first time in ages; I find Nicholas has returned from Wisconsin with thirty seven dollars worth of cheese. The night only got better from there.


Nerdy Things I Guess I Say

Today before our morning meeting with my department I was re-telling my Applebee's story to my new boss. During the process of story telling I utter the following sentence.
"I leave the bathroom and....ya know how Applebee's have those two inclined planes that lead down into the bar area?"

Everybody begins to laugh hysterically at this. I am confused as I haven't gotten to the meat of the embarrassment yet... Joe, who always loves to point out my nerdy/hipster qualities chimes in with, "OH MY GOD, so nerdy. Ramps, Kyle, they are called ramps." I just want to be accurate.

On a side note, earlier last week during darling Nick's birthday party...Casey, Brandon, a different Joe, and a whole bunch of us were sitting on our patio discussing zombie movies. I proclaimed I'd be a great last girl. Casey however, disagreed, "No, I would see you going down midway through Act III. Guns a-blazing, you would die fighting and it would be awesome." It may be the nicest thing a guy has said to me in a long time.
He claimed he'd be, "The funny guy who died halfway through to give the movie gravity." I'm inclined to agree.


Gosh you look nice

So I thought what this weekend needed, amongst the three weeks of travel, general lack of sleep, and over abundance of new information, was a little taste of Kyle in college. Burning the candle at both ends, that is.

After attending a concert until 11pm then getting home and talking with my director/playwright about comics over the phone for ten minutes I don't fall asleep until after 1am due to being too keyed up from said concert. At exactly 5:43am I get a text from the director: Script is done. Check your email. See you at 9am at Wild Goose. I get a few more hours of sleep to awaken at 8am to shower, I still smell of the road.

The next twelve or so hours are spent learning lines, blocking the show, going to breakfast with Audrey to further learn lines, getting gas and running lines, going to the Laughing Orge with the excuse of 'method acting' where Audrey buys two comics as I slink off to the corner to check out the D&D section, we head back to Wild Goose and run lines some more with Joe, the guy in our play, and then do another run through after Kal has gotten some sleep. Then, braving the post football traffic we head down to Independents' Day which spans from Gay Street all around Pearl Alley and Elm Street. Our tech lasts for 15 minutes as we are a simple lights up lights down kinda deal. We then break for dinner, I grab some money from an ATM, then end up only buying a soda. The Independents' Day is wonderful, I wish I had more time to go through each booth and explore, maybe listen to some music.

Around 6pm we do our cue to cue which takes us all of 15 seconds. The next hour we sit up in the upper diner area of the restaurant we are performing in and drink soda and run lines. I am always terrified of going up on a line. At 8pm the show begins, each company participating received a different day of the week as their prompt. Around the time Tuesdays' show begins Wednesdays' cast realizes we all need to pee.
Of course this makes every word of Tuesdays show garbled and indecipherable. I can't hear anything because I'm filled up to my ears with urine. Our turn comes. It goes beautifully, people laugh. We bow and run as a team to find the bathroom. The location of this bathroom is so absurd. It's located in a labyrinth of stairs, hallways, refrigerators, and freezers that most likely house the dead bodies of some deranged killer. The lights flicker over the ladies room sign and I have to hold the stall door close and I take the most satisfying piss of my life. We head back upstairs to a whispered chours of 'Good jobs,' take our place in the corner and pass the rest of the time by reading comics. During the last show I realize I haven't eaten in almost twelve hours. Opps.

The show ends. Clap clap clap clap clap. We clean up and leave. On the way back to the car the following conversations happens and makes me smile.
Anyone have change for a twenty?
Yeah I might, why?
Oh cause then I can pay you guys!
Yeah we got a seventh of the door!
(We all laugh and Kal hands each of us a ten dollar bill)
My first paid acting gig...
Wow! Kal this is like a tenth of what you and I got paid at Schiller Park.
Kal this is ten times more than I got paid for my last job.

We then talk about the other shows as I drive us back to Wild Goose. We say our goodbyes and I go back to my house and promptly pass out.
I still haven't eaten anything. Opps.



Early this week I agreed to be apart of a 24 hour theatre festival with Whistling in the Dark.

Kal, the director, called me tonight to make sure I was still in,
"Of course," I say.
He asks, "How much do you know about comic books?"

Each writer/director got a prompt, his was Wednesday. He has decided to write a script based around comic books being released on Wednesdays. I feel very lame because this is one feather I do not have in my nerd cap. I read comics. I enjoy them. However I do not have the vast knowledge that say, some of the guys I went to school with have. I wish I could help him out. If he wanted to know more about Manga I could have given him my number in the eighth grade. Eighth grade me would have been all over that.


Riding Dinosaurs

Real time conversation between Joe and myself on the facebook:

Joe:(9:04) I'm watching a documentary where they interview the creator of the Creation museum. It makes me want to go more...
Joe:(9:05) Yes, yes, a MILLION times yes.
Me:(9:06) We could take pictures and praise Jesus all at once.

I really want to go.
I hope we go.


I might be a klutz

I tried to make Nick watch GLEE in Lima. It didn't work out so well.

I bleed alot in my job. I have some scars, I think of them as trophies. Today I may have added two more.

The First.
The plasma tv case has lots of corners and Cabbage Case latches that are easy to get stuck in. I've closed my thumb in one before. Today though, I injured myself on the most benign thing possible. A screw head on the plastic cover which acts as a barrier between the tv and the outer case. Its this plastic cover that measures maybe a 1/4 inch thick. I gouged a chunk of skin out of the pad of my right ring finger. I consider it a blood sacrifice to the show. The show needs it to be happy.

The Second.
Nick's real birthday was tonight so we ended up going to Applebee's for drinks and dinner. I generally like to spend as little of my own money on the road as possible but still I had a beer for the occasion. When food arrives I head to the restroom to wash my hands. As soon as I enter the ladies, my right foot slips across the floor about two feet. I quickly regain my balance and stated a quick, 'Woooo-hoo!' to no one, dismissing the slide as slippery soap or a spilled liquid. I quickly do my business and go about returning to the table. On my exit from the restroom there is a small incline down to the bar that levels out and leads to my booth. Two servers and I have that awkward shifty side to side dance where no one is sure where the other is going. It's tense and all around unpleasant so I do as I always do. I begin this prance and crablike sideways saunter down the incline to relieve tension and with all hope crack a smile out of someone, even if it's just me. But then it happens.....

I slip.
My left foot slips in front of my right and this time the momentum is too great.
I fall on my left knee and my right ass cheek, breaking my fall with my hands to keep my overly large head safe from smashing upon the ground.
Ironically, with my right leg I kick down a bright yellow 'Piso Mojado' sign that flings across the floor and makes a loud clamour in the quiet restaurant. The two servers I began this dance with visibly clench their butt cheeks and have two visible thoughts written in their eyes and faces, "Ouch" and "Lawsuit." I quick arise and wince, knowing my left knee is finally catching up with my right in scars, I am met with several 'Are you okays?" from my audience that I quickly brush off to return to my booth. I immediately tell my table what happened with a self-deprecating laugh. Nick looks sorry he missed it, he so loves to see me in pain. Over the next twenty minutes virtually every staff person in the Applebee's comes over to our table to see if I'm alright, much to my chagrin. Do not get me wrong, I appreciate their concern, but I am embarrassed enough. This may be the best birthday present Nick has gotten from me. The manager comes to our table to make certain everything is kosher with our meal. It is. She asks if I'm alright, I assure her I am. Nick states that if I drink more I won't feel it, perhaps hoping as I am that a free something will be sent over. Nothing is sent. I don't hold a grudge, I used to work in a movie theatre where little old ladies would slip on butter for popcorn, I understand how this works. I'm not a fussy person.

After the clamour dies down, I examine my left knee, it is not pretty. Dead brown skin cells hang from the knee cap and bright red blood springs to the surface to coagulate my wound. I'll have to stop at the truck on our way back to treat it.

When the bills come I grab for the liquor bill since it is Nick's birthday. He refuses and pays for the whole thing. Bastard. The server overhears me arguing with Nick about the liquor bill and how I should pay since it's his birthday. He ends up bringing Nick an ice cream confection (sans birthday singing at my request, I remark how Nick'd be much happier if I'd just be asked over and over again by the staff if I was okay after my fall, Nick nods in agreement). The ice cream is pretty good.

My knee still really stings.



I'm in Lima, OH all week...and that's all I have to say about that.



I always thought the song Can't Get Next To You was about superpowers.

I can fly like a bird in the sky.
Hey, and I can buy anything that money can buy.
Oh, I can turn a river into a raging fire.
I can live forever if I so desired.

On the patio last night we celebrated Nicholas's day of birth. Then we talked about what superpowers we would want. It came down to a verbal sparring of which was better, Invisibility or Telekinesis. Invisibility has always been high on my list. Think about it, you could be a fantastic spy with some supplemental training. One guy brought up the point you could stand in a busy park and push people off of their bikes, which would be hilarious!

What it comes down to (for me) is I'm a voyeuristic little creep and I would love to just watch people. How people act when no one else is around. How people act together when no one else it watching. I wonder if it would reaffirm my belief in humanity or destroy it.

So Tired

Have just nearly been awake for 24 hours.


Bad Idea Continued

I can only write about this so soon because I just spent a lovely three hours with EG for Hire. EG and I chatted, drank coffee and tea, and soon I will have her hooked on Always Sunny and Doctor Who. It took my mind off of my stomach which was exactly what I needed after today.

To complete annual training we held a large potluck with lots and lots of carbs. I brought cheese, others made chili, pulled chicken, veggie pizza; all delightful food. Our newest director got a Crave Case from White Castle. One of my co-workers Chris, is a huge White Castle fan. He insisted everyone try a slider. I have never eaten White Castle sliders, I prefer not to shit blood.

My buddy Joe for reasons he can't explain, ate two. After some playful goading and sneaking a third in front of him I admitted to never trying one, from here a challenge was proposed, at first I outright refused but then said if they caught it on camera I'd do it. I thought I had set up a fail proof system. We usually film things on Flip Cams and I knew there were no Flip Cams available that day. Then Nick, my fucking roommate Nick, slyly holds up his shiny new camera stating, "My camera has a film setting." No looking back now. Wait, why are we suddenly eating two of them and supposedly racing?

I can't even begin to describe how awful these things are. There isn't a single redeeming factor to these satanic substitutes for food. I try to fake myself out by eating quickly. It only makes me want to vomit more. I try to think I'm eating amazing sushi, doesn't work either. Toward the end of the second one I shove it all in at once, hoping to just get it over with. I begin to dry heave but I can't possibly stop, a little voice in the back of my head says, "You can do it Kyle, be a champ, a disgusting champ. Everyone's watching, to see what you will do." (Yes I did just quote Loverboy)

I finish. I celebrate with a resounding, "FUCK YEAH!" then I promptly fall into the fetal position for about 10 minutes.

The greatest gift of all is it was caught on film.

Bad Idea

I just made a terrible fucking life choice.
Video to come....


Have you ever read a story so wonderful, it makes your skin burn?


I'm sitting in a parking lot, waiting for a bank to open, because apparently I can't get my life together. After I do that I'll be in an all day meeting about relationships. I generally like to be left alone in the workplace. I get more work done that way. It's part of the appeal of a one woman science show.

In honor of the all day meeting, Nick and I have decided to dress like hipsters.



Last Night while playing Dungeons and Dragons.
Casey: You walk into the hall and notice it's a lot larger than the outside would lead you to believe. It goes back very far....basically it's bigger on the inside.
Me: *giggling*
Patrick: Pervert.
Me: (I shake my head) Nerd.

Today while waiting for work to begin.
Joe: Batman is the best superhero of all time. He's rich, has an amazing car, fights crime, and has a bunch of awesome gadgets to help him do it.
Me: I don't want to see a story about a rich guy. I want a Batman that drives a crappy 80's Honda Accord, lives in a sub-let apartment, and has to balance his checkbook every month while fighting crime.
Joe: What!? I don't want to watch a Hipster Batman.
Me: *realizing* Oh God....I did just create Hipster Batman, didn't I?
Joe: Yeah instead of body armour, he'd just have skinny jeans.


I live with nerds

I walk in this evening to find...

I love this house.
I love my roomates.