Dumplings! Bring me steamed dumplings!

There's a documentary on Netflix right now called The Search for General Tso.  It's about the ever-popular General Tso's chicken you find on every Chinese takeout menu.

It's a documentary about General Tso's chicken.

Really.

It's actually surprisingly fascinating and I really, really want to try Szechuan alligator now.

Watch out, David Lynch is coming!

It has been brought to my attention (read: I stole it from Nerdist Podcast#710: Wil Wheaton Returns Again) that in order to fake backwards-talk, you just repeat "Brezhnev Turnip" weirdly and in various combinations.

And you just did it, didn't you?  Is anyone looking?  They think you're the devil now.

Self-Censorship Fail

At dinner with B, T, and the small kid:

B (in reference to a friend): That Josh, he's a good fucking dude...*wide-eyed realization that the small kid is sitting right there, attempts to self-censor*...guy

The small kid:  ...

Me: "Dude" is ok. You can say "dude."

Album Concept

I want to start a band and call it The Chicken Sweaters.  It isn't as good a name as MouseRat, but I would steal that for the album title.  The Chicken Sweaters:  MouseRat.  And then people would say "Thank you, 1996!"

That would be my second album.  The Chicken Sweaters:  Thank You, 1996!

2:30 AM

2:15 am.

Daisy (in the form of a high-pitched whine): Out?  Out?  Out?

Me:  It's 2:15 in the...fine.

Dogs joyously run outside.

2:30 am.

Daisy: Hey!  Let's go scream at the fence for no reason!

Rocky:  I'm in!!

Both:  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA......

Me: WTF...grumble...(out door) Come on, dogs.

Both: ...AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA....

Me: Oh, for the love of...*puts on yard work boots and goes outside*

Both:  ....AAAAAA!  AAAA AAAAA AAAA AAAAAAAAAAA...

Me:  come on, dogs!

Both: ....AAAAAA!  AAAA AAAA AAAA AAAA AAAAAAA...

Me (grabbing Rocky): That's enough!  Come on!

Rocky's bladder:  Quick!  Release exactly 3 drops of panic pee!

Rocky:  *pees*

Me: Are you serious?

Daisy (bouncing): Carry me!  Carry me!  Hey guys!  Carry me! I can pee too!  Yay!

Me: Knock it off, stupid!

Daisy:  No!  (Bouncing underfoot)

Me (putting Rocky down inside): OK, go lay down, morons.

Both:  Couches!  Yay! *immediate snoring*

Me:  *facepalm*

Captives Fundraiser

Hey everybody, we're doing another fundraiser for the web series I'm writing for, Captives.

This is a really exciting and ambitious project, and so far it's coming along beautifully.  We have an amazingly talented cast and crew, and episode one is nearly finished (down to the post production now).  We're currently filming episode two and that should be wrapped next weekend.  The release date for episode one is August 29 and episode 2 should be out the following week.

This campaign is to raise funds for episode three.  We're planning on five seasons with five episodes per season to tell the entire story.  That's going to take some help.

We have perks starting at the $1 level, because any amount helps.  And if you can't contribute, please share the link.

And I'm in the promo video, although (thankfully) very briefly before we turn it over the the phenomenal Andy Penn.  check it out:  https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/captives-season-1#/

Please like and subscribe to our Facebook page for updates:  https://www.facebook.com/captivesseries

Thanks for reading this shameless plug!

Comedic Timing

That Boyfriend, B, and his best friend T were having a production meeting at B's house and decided to pull a prank.  Before everyone arrived B told T to hide in the closet and just stand there so that when people opened it to put away their coats, there he'd be, staring back at them.  T agreed this would be amusing and stepped into the closet.

B got distracted and when people started to arrive and asked where to put their coats, he said "Oh, just throw them on my bed."

45 minutes later someone said "Isn't that T's car outside?  Where is he?"

And then T, deadpan as always, stepped out of the closet, said "Here," and sat down.

There are people who would kill for timing like that.

Pinot Grigio Was Involved

I had the bright idea to see if a show I recommended to my friend J was on Netflix. The problem arose when I turned on Netflix and saw that a show I'd never seen in my life was the most recently watched.

Me: ...

J: Should we be scared?

Me: My door wasn't exactly locked when I came home from work yesterday...

J: Let's go outside.

Once outside I texted my dad, who lives less than a mile away.  

We waited.

And then J asked if my boyfriend, who had been watching my dogs for me all weekend, had possibly watched Netflix.

*facepalm*

I texted B.  "Did you watch Netflix at my house?"

"Yeah."

"...did you watch Homefront?"

"Yeah."

*even bigger facepalm*

I tried to text my dad not to bother but he pulled up just as the text left my phone.  He dutifully checked my house, refrained from calling me an idiot, and went home.

Lesson:  ask your boyfriend before assuming murderers are in your house watching your Netflix.

Humor fail

At the office coffee pot:

CEO (noticing my cup): That's what I need, a cup.

Me (holding out cupped hand):  You could try just holding it in your hand...

My brain: What are you doing?

Me:...but that wouldn't...

My brain:  Seriously, wtf?  This isn't funny!  Abort!  Abort!

Me:...be...

My brain:  STOP TALKING!!

Me:...a good idea...

CEO:  *smiles politely and leaves*

My brain:  *facepalm*

Me:  *implodes with shame*

Sausomecon

At Sausomecon this weekend, promoting Captives:

B and T approach an elevator.  It immediately opens.

T: Looks like someone summoned an elevator.

Passing wizard (not breaking stride):  You're welcome.

Later:

Same wizard starts placing bananas on the table where we'd just finished our panel.

Me:  Are those for the Librarian.

Wizard: *sigh* No.  But I appreciate the reference!

I wish I had pictures but later that same night I was physically tossed through the air by two of our actors.  As in, they used me to play catch.  I am not a dainty little flower.  These guys are strong!

B's response:  "That's my girlfriend, not a volleyball."

Spoiler? Maybe.

So last Sunday's episode of Game of Thrones, entitled "Hardhome," showed me exactly how I'd die during a zombie apocalypse:  eaten by zombie children because I couldn't bring myself to fight them.

White Walker children.

Mind = blown.

Epically Bad With Faces

Sitting backstage with my daughter at the production of Seussical:  The Musical she's in at the moment, talking to a friend.  A strange man approaches. My first thought is, who is this vaguely familiar-looking person and why is he giving my child a sandwich?

It was my ex-husband.

For the record, he's lost more than 100lbs since this time last year (for which I applaud him), and for the role his hair has been dyed black and he's shaved his facial hair.  Still, I can't imagine a more disconcerting feeling than not recognizing the person you were married to for more than 14 years.

He disappeared quickly.  I had to leave and the small kid was getting bored.  The chaos in the green room (this is a cast of 50+ people and a dog) got to be too much and I literally ran from the room shaking to try to find him and get the kid's bag of entertainment.  When I couldn't find him I went back and called my kid over.  She said her Pop was there.  I asked where, and she gestured to the vaguely familiar-looking person standing next to me.

I went home.  It was the only option.

Moving

Driving with B:

Him (pointing):  ...is that happening?

Me:  What?

Him (pointing more obviously): That.

I follow his finger to see two women in a sedan with a couch across the roof, being held in place by wishes and dreams (aka one hand per woman out the window just sort of steadying it so it doesn't slide around too much).

Me: ...appears to be, yes.

Potential Arachnid Plot

Took a shower, turned around, saw a spider just hanging there, all upside-down, front legs dangling, looking at me like "I saw what you did to Bruce."  I was polite and said hey, but it just glowered, then slunk back to the ceiling in a menacing fashion.  I may have to be on my guard.

Office work

Ever hit that point in the day (4:45 pm on a Friday) where it seems like a good idea to build a desktop catapult out of office supplies?

...yeah no me neither...*quickly disassembled catapult*

Perhaps a breath mint?

Hello, interesting spider in my bathtub.  You are certainly very oddly-shaped and black.  I will look closer at you.

*looks*

Is that red on you?

*looks closer.  Spider looks back.*

It's hard to see...perhaps if you move into a better position...

*blows on spider.  Spider dies.*

...

Spider?

*spider remains dead*

Seriously?

*blows on spider again.  Spider does not reanimate.*

Is...is this my superpower?

I shall call him Lester

I bought a snail.

I actually went into a store and gave them money, actual real currency, in exchange for a snail.

Think about this.  I got in my truck, drove to the pet store, actually had to approach a salesperson and ask if they in fact carried snails, chose a snail (CHOSE A SNAIL, think about that), had her bag it up and then paid real actual money for the privilege of bringing home my new pet gastropod.

Did you know snails cost three dollars?  That's a thing I know now.  I'm going to know that forever now.

I bought a snail.

*sigh*

This post is full of spiders

Why is it that when someone says they're afraid of something, we are compelled to inflict that thing on them?  Spiders, for instance:

It's like "Hey, person I like a lot, here's the thing you're terrified of!  Here it is many times!"

It's the grown up equivalent of chasing the boy you like on the playground and kicking him in the shins.  It makes no sense but we all do it.  Right?

Or am I the weirdo?

In conclusion,

Being an Adult

Me:  Hey Facebook!  I cleaned some stuff!
Facebook:  Congratulations...?
Me:  No, really, I got out the broom and everything!
Facebook:  ...
Me:  But not the mop.  That's too much trouble.
Facebook:  OK
Me:  Also, I exercised!
Facebook:  That's nice.
Me:  I did!  For real!  Like an actual adult!
Facebook:  OK.
Me:  I am accomplishing adult things!  Like a real adult person!
Facebook:  Aren't you 37?
Me:  38!
Facebook:  Here are some pictures of cats.
Me:  KITTIES!!!

Weirdness

Theater:  where you pretend your hands are eyes and no one thinks that's weird.

Uncharacteristically Serious

I discovered Discworld my freshman year in college and, in keeping with my being   basically a goofball, didn't realize Small Gods was part of a series.  I just thought it was brilliantly funny.  To my delighted surprise I found that Terry Pratchett had created a universe of clever stories and hilarious, deeply human characters.   The humor drew me in; the humanity kept me reading.

The characters and stories you relate to are the ones you remember.  A lot of people are funny, but Terry Pratchett had a gift for making you genuinely care about Sam Vimes and Granny Weatherwax.  I kind of always wanted to be Nanny Ogg when I grew up, because she never did.

We all knew this day would come when he announced his embuggerance, but I'm pretty sure we all deep down hoped for the impossible.  The impossible never came; this day did.

Better writers than me, people who aren't unpublished goofballs with a blog, have written and will write better memorials than this.  But I wanted to put mine out there.  He helped shape my writing and my humor, he was my favorite author, and he will be missed.

Mandolin

I'm not going to call it a hidden talent because I have no talent for it and therefore nothing to hide, but I play mandolin.  Kind of.  Well, I own a mandolin, anyway, and I take lessons and have even been known to practice, but I'm terrible at it, which is why it sits on a stand in my writing room, staring at me in a vain attempt to shame me into practicing.

A while back the sound board operator for a show my ex husband was in happened to play mandolin in a band called Chance the Arm (gotta link it:  https://www.facebook.com/chancethearm).  My ex mentioned to him that I, also, play mandolin, so next time I was in the green room the subject came up.  And then he brought his mandolin out and played it for us.  Not just played - he owned its little wooden face.  It was awesome.

And then he handed it to me.

Crap.

I couldn't think of a single song.

Stalling for time, I asked him how long he's been playing.

"A year," he said.

Crap crap crap.  I'd been taking lessons for three years at that point and I still couldn't manage tremolo (still can't, for that matter).

I stared at the instrument for a bit like I'd never seen one before and wordlessly, apologetically, handed it back.

To this day I believe he thinks I was lying about playing mandolin, like that's a thing people make up.  Maybe they do.  I didn't, but I sure looked like I did.  I am The Mandolin Liar!

Marketing!

New logo, new Facebook page!  Tell your friends!  You like me, right?  RIGHT?!?

https://www.facebook.com/thaterin

Scheduling

So my very favorite band of all time, Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers, is coming to town next month.  The last two years they've been here in May, and on a Thursday.  This year it's March, which is five in and of itself.

But not doing a show on a Monday.

And on a rehearsal night.

Why would you do this to me, Roger?

But then again, this showed up in an email a few weeks ago:

...*sigh* You win.  All is forgiven.

I guess.

*grumble*

PS, go to http://azpeacemakers.com to share in the RCPM awesomeness.

Attention to Detail

Submitting a resume:

Questionnaire:  Describe your attention to detail.
Me:  I am the greatest at attention to detail!  I never miss a thing!  I am the most awesome ever!  Details are my thing, I pay attention to them!  At all times!

*submit application*

Me: ...did I spell everything right?

Leaving Comments

Sometimes it's fun to imagine what online comments would sound like in normal conversation.

Person One:  Hey, did you see the new trailer for *thing*?
Person Two:  Yeah, *thing* looks awesome.
Person One:  I think they did a good job adapting *thing* from *format one* to *format two.*
Person Three: VINCENT D'ONOFRIO!
Person One and Two:  *staring*

(I am frequently Person Three)

Different Aquarium, Hopefully More Successful

My mom got the small kid an aquarium for Christmas, and it has taken over my life.

Actually, it hasn't, because I'm stage managing right now and THAT has taken over my life, but the brief time when I am at home is ruled by a 10 gallon aquarium.  The fish get more attention than the dogs.  Poor dogs.

Initially, we filled it with water and waited for the chlorine to dissipate, and then when we went to buy fish, the girl at the pet store refused to sell us any because the tank hadn't cycled and they would die.  This is not a bad thing - it's bad for the fish, of course, and it's bad for the small kid, who loves all the living creatures.  So the small kid tried not to be disappointed (ice cream helped with this) and we added some bacteria to jump start the cycle, and waited.  And waited.  And WAITED.

After a few weeks I brought a water sample back to the pet store, but I didn't bring the small kid, because I didn't want to disappoint her again.  The ammonia was still too high but the girl said it would be fine in a few days.  That weekend, my mom and I took the kid back to the store to look for fish.  Again, the ammonia was slightly high, and none of the fish in the store looked particularly nice, so we left.

The small kid was doing her best to hide her disappointment again.  This time, however, we went to a different store and let her pick out four fish.  She was thrilled.  She picked three neon tetras (named Small, Medium, and Large) and a tequila sunrise guppy (Sunrise).

We also bought a testing kit.  This has been the problem.  It's way too much fun to play scientist with all the little test tubes and chemicals, and I discovered that the pH was ridiculously high for these particular fish.  I was happy to discover that the ammonia was actually at a safe level after all, but I began to obsess over how to lower the pH.

Driftwood!  But where do you get driftwood?  Can you make your own?  Yes, if you want to wait a few months.  Peat moss pellets!  But do we have the kind of filter that I can add them to?  That pH lowering chemical I bought!  Oh hey, that's just sulfuric acid...yikes!  And why is the water level so low?  Evaporation!  It's raising the pH by leaving minerals behind!  Super awesome!

After another week we bought three more fish, this time another tequila sunrise guppy (Sunset), a turquoise guppy (Moonrise), and another neon (Anna).  The previous neons were renamed Small Headlight, Medium Bubble-Headlight, and Large McPufferson.  Everything was going well until we discovered Sunset floating head-down against the decorative rock.  He was given a burial at sea, at which time the small kid decided she would prefer to wrap the dead fish in Kleenex and bury them in the back yard.  Yeah.

While the small kid was away for the weekend, one of the neons died.  I thought it was Medium Bubble-Headlight, but on her return she informed me it was Anna.  Then she asked why I'd flushed it down the toilet again instead of waiting for her to come back so we could give it a proper burial, and I explained that I didn't want a dead fish sitting around the house for a few days.  We determined that in the future I could store the fish corpse in the freezer until we could have a funeral.  So yeah, don't open my freezer now unless you like unpleasant surprises.

More research.  Oh hey, I should be doing a 10-15% water change every week!  Oh hey, the pH in the bucket is perfect for these fish...let's do a water change!  I siphoned out about a gallon and replaced it with water from the refill bucket...and THEN I realized I should have tested everything first.  The pH had dropped from 8.2 to 6.8 and the ammonia went from 0.0 to 4.0.

I HAD DOOMED THE FISH!!

I spent the week dreading to check on the fish, knowing that I'd go in some morning and see them all belly up.  Somehow, magically, they survived...they're still swimming at this time.

(The surviving fish have since been renamed Ricky, Queen Stella, Gigi, Vivi, and Fishpants.)

Nightmare

I had a recurring nightmare as a kid, and it was stupid.

No, really, it was unbelievably stupid.

For some reason, and I have no idea where this came from except for the fact that I was maybe 4 years old, I would have this nightmare about a toilet that ate kids.  A kid would carry a toy into the bathroom and shut the door.  When the door was opened, the kid was gone and the toy would be floating all by itself in the toilet bowl.

This was, of course, terrifying.

One night it scared me enough that I had to call my mom into my room.  Once she was there, though, and asking me what was wrong, I realized that this nightmare was so dumb I couldn't possibly tell her.  I'd made enough of a fuss, though, that I had to tell her something.

I did the only possible thing:  I lied to my mother.

Thinking fast, I came up with the scariest thing I could slap together:  a bad witch showed up and made our house disappear.  It was the only thing as scary as a carnivorous toilet, and not at all embarrassing.

I told my story and waited.  Then I realized:  this is my mom.  At this age, your parents are infallible. She was going to see right through me.  I waited for my doom.

"That is scary, thinking all the familiar stuff is gone," she said.  SHE BOUGHT IT!  She bought my stupid lie without question!  I had stumbled upon a universal childhood fear and successfully convinced my mother that I hadn't been dreaming about killer toilets at all!

Of course, what I hadn't thought of was that it really is pretty scary to have a bad witch steal your house...

Mysterious Stranger

Sudden hand cramp while driving!  Oh no!  I pull up to the light and take off my glove, shaking my hand.  And then out of the corner of my eye I see movement - the guy in the next car is also shaking his hand and staring at me.  Awkwardly, I wave and look away.

Then he rolls his window down.

Great.  Can't be rude to the random stranger.  I crack my window as well.

Stranger:  I know what you're doing!  Your hand is cold!

Me: ...yeah!

Him:  Our heater broke this morning!

Me: ...I'm sorry to hear it!

Him:  Yeah, it's a cold day for it!  I hope they fix it by the time I get home!

Me:  Yeah, man, me too!  *light turns green*  Stay warm!  Happy new year!

This was followed with me driving very carefully so as to not end up stopped at a light with him again.