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We had an improv show on Saturday (shows I've been in so far this year: 3), and we had a pretty good-sized crowd in spite of the weather. It literally snowed all day, so we weren't expecting anyone to show.

It was a standard show, except for one thing: I was the Designated Jokester. Let me 'splain. Normally at these shows we have two teams of four people each. For some reason, we only had seven people available for this show, so we had two teams of three, and I played for both teams whenever they wanted me to do so, switching shirts to match the color of the team I was currently supposed to be helping.

Secretly, it was something I had always dreamed about doing. It has the DJ playing in more games than he normally would, so that instantly makes it more fun. It's also a sort-of sign of respect, an indication that the leader of our group thinks the DJ has the ability to play more and not be a detriment.

Turns out, there's a reason a person ought to take a break between games he plays. If you're "off" on a normal night, you're in and out pretty quickly and it can be smoothed over. If, however, you play in all of the main games and they all are rough, well, it's pretty easy to fill in the dots and figure out the common denominator. (Don't you just love mixed metaphors?)

Turns out I was "off" on Saturday. Though the audience seemed to still be enjoying themselves, I felt it was in spite of me, rather than because of me. It wasn't the worst I've ever been, but when you're the "Designated Jokester," you're expected to, you know, be funny. Maybe it was just a matter of too much pressure.

It ended up okay. People laughed, and that's what we're after. If there's ever a next time for me to be the DJ, I'll be even more nervous, I'm sure.

If you are ever the DJ, here's a little hint: when the winning team is announced, quickly put that color of shirt on and join them in their celebrations. People seem to enjoy that. 0 comments

All right, you've had a little over a day, so here are the answers:

1. I have had a short story published

Nope. I did get a poem published once, but that was because Dave and I paid a bunch of money to one of those shady "World of Poetry" "contests" to do so, so I don't think it really counts.

2. My three least favorite things to see or hear in a movie are vomiting, whispering, and typing

So very true. I can't stand to see someone vomit on screen, and the sounds of whispering and typing in movies drives me crazy. I barely made it through You've Got Mail.

3. I have a scar on my knee from running into barbed wire 17 years ago

Also true. I was playing "Capture the Flag" and was being chased by a big guy and thought it would be good to slip between two small trees where he couldn't fit. It was a sound theory, but resulted in deep gashes courtesy of the rusty barbed wire strung between them.

4. I know all the words to "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Currently false, but was true at one time. I still remember bits of it, including my favorite stanza:

He holds him with his skinny hand
"There was a ship," quoth he.
"Hold off! Unhand me, graybeard loon!"
Eftsoons his hand dropped he.

5. I hate practical jokes - receiving OR giving

Boy, do I ever. Any time I have played even a small, seemingly-harmless one, it has backfired and gotten ugly. When they have been played on me, it has hurt me deeply in ways it would be difficult to explain. Practical jokes do a lot of damage to a person who has trouble trusting the human race anyway - if I have finally decided to trust and get joked, well, it's bad.

6. I lettered in four sports in high school

Completely true! Football, wrestling, basketball, and baseball. I knew this one would trip people up, and it should be mentioned that I lettered in basketball for keeping stats. It's still a letter, though!

7. I am missing a toe on my left foot

Nope. Everyone guessed this.

8. My favorite comic book hero is Spider-Man

He's a close second, but Batman has him beat in my particular worldview. Superman comes in third. What can I say? I'm a traditionalist.

9. I have owned 10 cats

At the time this said "8 cats" no one had chosen it. It was an unintentional lie, so I just edited it. I had forgotten the two italicized ones from this list: Sparky, Dusty, Jasper, Shadow, Marie, Hero, Dala, Pika, Ringo, and Nutmeg. To be fair, they weren't around long.

10. I saw Michael Jordan play basketball in person

I sure as heck did, along with Scottie Pippen and Dennis Rodman, in United Center, even! It was pretty darn cool.

So the official lies were 1, 4, 7, and 8. How'd you do?
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*List ten things about yourself
*4 are lies. Visitors try to guess which four are lies.
*Do the same in your blog. I command it.

1. I have had a short story published
2. My three least favorite things to see or hear in a movie are vomiting, whispering, and typing
3. I have a scar on my knee from running into barbed wire 17 years ago
4. I know all the words to "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
5. I hate practical jokes - receiving OR giving
6. I lettered in four sports in high school
7. I am missing a toe on my left foot
8. My favorite comic book hero is Spider-Man
9. I have owned 10 cats
10. I saw Michael Jordan play basketball in person
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"Triple dog dare" means nothing to a cat.

-from Overcompensating

Labels: it's been said

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Since I've started, I have not missed a scheduled workout yet. Maya greets me with things like "You're doing great!" and "Way to go!" It's funny to me, because for all she knows, I'm just setting the workout in motion whilst I eat bowls of ice cream.

But, no. I am actually doing the workouts. Some of them are even starting to get difficult. It's a video game, right? I should be able to beat it! I still can't find any cheat codes, though...

At my last weigh-in, I had lost a few pounds. If I would stop eating out every day, I'm sure I would lose more.

My general plan of attack is that I do my workout when I get home from work, and then on some days, I'll do the relaxation routine before I go to bed. I don't notice any change in flexibility, but I usually am pretty tired afterwards...but that could be because I'm doing the exercises late at night. Hmm.

Anyway, I've been keeping up with it, and I'm as surprised as any of you.
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It's revealing that I can forget my cell phone when I leave to go shopping and out to eat with a friend and get back 4.5 hours later and not have had a single call.

Tell me again why I have a phone?

Ah, yes - to play Nokia Golf. Now I remember.
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This is kind of fun. You can compare your height to different celebrities.
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I decided to do two other "new" things this year. They're both kind of the same thing, but different versions. I'm keeping a "Movies Watched" journal and an "Improv Performances" journal. The improv list will be much shorter, of course, but its main purpose is actually to keep track of how much money I make doing improv this year.

So far I've seen 27 movies this year and been in one improv show.

I often feel the need to keep track of things. Every time I change my razorblade I think, "I should write down the date and keep track of how long I use this blade." When I change the Glad plugin I think, "I should write down this date and keep track of how long it lasts." I like to keep track of important dates in my life and think, "It's been XX months since I did such-and-such." (The no-soda-drinking is a perfect example. Three years with only a few sips of soda!)

I often feel compelled to journal the minutia of my life: what I ate for lunch, what shirt I wore, how many hot chocolates I've had since October 12 (at least 52, but there are some that didn't make the list). I want to fill pages (whether actual or digital) with all this stuff.

I wash my hands more times in a day than necessary. They just start to feel dirty, and I need to go wash them.

What I'm hinting at here is that I think I'm borderline obssessive-compulsive. "Borderline" because I have these urges but don't follow through with them. I'm no Howard Hughes here.

Sometimes I wish I were a little more OCD. I know it can be a debilitating problem and I'm not trying to make light of it, I just think maybe my apartment would be neater if I were. I'd kind of like to be that guy who can tell you how many outlets there are in a room inside of two minutes of my entry into said room. I'd really like to be that guy that notices every detail and can recall them when needed.

Have you seen the show Monk? I kind of want to be like that, but not as hampered.

So what keeps me from being full-on OCD? Laziness. I think "I should write that down and keep track of it" closely followed by "Nah." I don't have any legal pads (the preferred list-keeping medium) and having to boot up and log in to the computer every time I wanted to make a note would be a lot of work.

So, I guess if I ever get over my laziness, I'm headed straight for OCD-ness. Talk about walking a fence!
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One of the dangers of working at a high school is having to occasionally fix computers where students are. This isn't too much of a problem, unless you're talking about the music area. Installing software seems to take so much longer when you're listening to a student trying to get the hang of a French horn.

Worse: listening to a student trying to sing "Music of the Night" from Phantom of the Opera and not only having difficulty with the notes but also pronouncing "garish" as "gorish."

I swore I wouldn't say anything, despite the urge of every fiber of my being, but as I was leaving, everyone else was, too, and I asked if she minded if I made one suggestion. I gave her the correction and she was grateful - apparently there's some sort of competition coming up.

I felt bad and good afterwards. Bad because it wasn't my place and someone surely would have caught it, but good because I was able to offer the correction not in front of anyone else (and therefore sparing her some embarrassment) and also because I was helping her (and therefore sparing her possible future embarrassment).

Teenagerhood is all about being embarrassed on a frequent basis though, isn't it? I hope I haven't ruined her!
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I have a personal trainer now. Her name is Maya, and she's the exact right mix of pushy and nice. The best part is, when I'm tired of her, I can put her away.

Meet Maya. (I did not write that review.)

How weird is that? A fitness program on a videogame console. It's like being able to check your cholesterol at McDonald's. Here are two activities that could not be more disparate, joined in some kind of weirdly correct way.

When you put the disc in the first time, you set up an account and put in your height, weight, birthday, and name. Then she (I could say "the program," but it's easier just to say "she," okay?) has you do a few things to test what level you are - pushups, crunches, and jumping jacks. I haven't done jumping jacks in 15 years! It's all to get a base level reading so she knows what you need to work on.

Turns out Maya thinks I'm fat. Once I finished my stack of cookies and was able to talk clearly, I wholeheartedly agreed with her. So I'm set up on this weight-loss program that will certainly interfere with my resolution to put on five pounds this year. She had me set up a commitment level (six days a week) and how much I wanted to lose (she even surpressed a giggle when I told her, I think, which was nice). Then she said, "See you on Tuesday for your next workout!"

Fine. I can wait until Tuesday. But what's this? A relaxation mode? Let's see what that is. I've been a little stressed lately, and some relaxation could be good. Well, I'm sure some relaxation would be good, but I'll never know. Turns out Maya's version of relaxing is "twist in ways you never have before and try to keep your balance while doing it." In other words: yoga. I'm trying to watch her do these things while at the same time trying to do them myself, but I can't do both because I have to look away from the TV for most of them. On top of that, she's telling me to breathe correctly. I have apparently been going about this breathing thing all wrong my whole life. It's too much and I can't do it. I'm huffing and puffing and not relaxing at all. And these yoga positions have such odd names, too. "Down dog." "Mountain." "Crocodile." "Corpse." I thought about putting in some fake ones, but the real ones are goofy enough. My favorite so far is "corpse." It's pretty easy. I'd tell you how to do it, but I am not qualified to be a trainer yet, and I don't want to be liable for your injuries.

I've done two actual workouts with her since all of the relaxing. I'm probably going to have to crank it up a little, because the only thing that's sore on me is my shoulders. That, and after the workout is done, she tells me how many calories I burned during the workout. I'm not sure how she knows this, but it's depressing that I do all of the stuff to burn fewer calories than are in one Ritz cracker.

At the same time, though, I've always done much better at working out when someone was telling me what to do and how much to do it. I've been looking at this program for a couple of months now. A friend of mine who goes with me on about 67% of my Best Buy trips was sick to death of me saying, "I wonder if that's any good. I'm really curious. I think I might get that some day. It's cheaper than a gym membership. I've always been better when someone's telling me what to do."

There's also a section where she'll recommend specific foods for you, but I skipped all that. I'm pretty sure Hot Pockets aren't in her repertoire.

So far I'm glad I got it. We'll see how long I keep up with it. Hey, even if it's only a week (like everyone is saying it will be), I'm not out that much.

Now excuse me while I go eat some Ritz crackers for supper.


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I think a lot about death.

(Now that I've lost half my readers right there, the rest of us can continue on.)

It's not so much the spiritual aspect of it, either. (The Bible lays it out pretty clearly that you can know what will happen to you after you die, after all.) It's the mundane, paperwork-type stuff that I wonder about.

I know two things: Where I want to be buried and what funeral home I want to have handle it. So what do I do about it? I guess the logical choice is to draw up some sort of legal document that spells that out, but where do I leave it? Taped to my TV screen so people can find it when they knock my door in to find out why I haven't been to work in two weeks? I figure it's the kind of thing you want to have in an easily-accessible place, or else people won't find it until they've already got you interred, and that would kind of defeat the purpose. Maybe carrying around a card in my wallet would be the best place - I've got my Barnes & Noble discount card, my grocery store membership card, and my Roly Poly punchcard in there, so why not an "after I die" card? It could also have an email address or two of people I'd like to have notified, maybe.

Funeral homes like to tell you that planning before you die saves your loved ones from having to go through that process after you die. I actually think that's a pretty good idea, too. If I didn't have so many other things to pay off, I just might start making payments on funeral arrangements. Of course, you're supposed to work it so your life insurance pays that off, but it'd be nice to have a jump on it, wouldn't it?

Same with the gravesite. I've checked into it, and plots aren't as expensive as I thought they might be. I have a friend who is constantly telling me I need to buy a house because I'm throwing money away by renting. He's right, of course, but I'm just not where I can do that right now. Renting appeals to me because other people do the yardwork and take care of any problems that come up. Buying a cemetary plot might be a halfway point: I'd own some land, and someone else would still be taking care of the yardwork and stuff.

I haven't priced headstones yet, but I've thought about it. I think I'd like a nice dark gray stone. As for what would go on it, I think I'll leave that up to other people. It'd be nice to have my name spelled correctly and I'd like to have commas in the birth- and death-dates. Some stones don't have commas and it looks weird to me. Other than that, maybe I could have a whiteboard or something similar on the stone so people could write whatever they wanted to on it when they visited. I kind of like that idea. You'd see what the last person wrote and you could erase it or add to it as you saw fit. Hmm. I smell a million-dollar idea here!

Something simple for my coffin, please. I've got a few things I'd like to go into the coffin with me, but they're small, so I don't need an extra roomy one. While it's tempting to get one painted up to look like my favorite NASCAR driver's car, I think I'll pass on that one. One, I think it's tacky, and two, I don't have a favorite NASCAR driver. Hey! I just figured out what kind of coffin would be cool! Did you ever see Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan? A major character dies at the end and he gets a pretty cool-looking coffin. See if you can find one of those for me! (I won't ruin the surprise by telling you which character dies, but I will say that the name of Star Trek III is The Search for Spock.)

Hey, it happens, right? Death, I mean. Tax season is almost upon us, and the old saying is true, so it doesn't do any good to ignore either subject. Lately when I've been thinking about it, there's a song that runs through my head. It's the chorus to "Quiet" by Rachel Yamagata, and it's not about death at all, but I think it's fitting:

And it'll be just as quiet when I leave
As it was when I first got here
It'll be just as quiet when I leave
As it was when I first got here
I don't expect anything to change when I leave

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I stumbled onto this song after not being quick enough on returning a CD that BMG sent me. It's by Avril Lavigne, and trust me, I know how goofy it looks for a 32-year-old to be quoting songs by a punk-ish teeny-bopper.

She wrote this song about the death of her grandfather, and I thought it was beautiful. If you've ever lost someone, I'm sure you'll be able to relate to it.

Oh, and I've removed the "na na na" parts, because it's weird to read those, I think.

I miss you
Miss you so bad
I don't forget you
Oh it's so sad
I hope you can hear me
I remember it clearly

[Chorus]
The day you slipped away
Was the day I found it won't be the same oh

I didn't get around to kiss you
Goodbye on the hand
I wish that I could see you again
I know that I can't oh oh oh oh oh
I hope you can hear me
Cause I remember it clearly

[Chorus]

I've had my wake up
Won't you wake up
I keep asking why
And I can't take it
It wasn't fake it
It happened you passed by

Now you're gone
Now you're gone
There you go
There you go
Somewhere I can't bring you back
Now you're gone
Now you're gone
There you go
There you go
Somehow you're not coming back

[Chorus x 2]

I miss you

Labels: music

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Despite what you might think, it's not really like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife.

But it might be a police officer who sets off the don't-steal-stuff alarm while walking out of the doors at Target.

I laughed out loud, and he kind of thought it was funny, too. He made a pretense of showing me his receipt, but I didn't get a good look at it. What am I going to do about it, anyway? I don't work there, and he's the one carrying a gun.
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I've run out of things to say, so let's talk about the weather.

A week ago we had an ice storm that caused all sorts of problems and closed schools and everything.

Today it was 67 degrees.

It's supposed to be down around 1 degree on Friday.

Wacky.
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So, notice anything?

These are the colors I've had in mind ever since I started yammering about changing the site. I like them.

I must give two shout-outs to two Brians.

First, Brian N. He came up with the original logo design and did a lot of work on site re-design. I ended up doing a variation on his logo them and didn't use his design, but he did a lot of work on it and I appreciate it. He really is a great graphic artist, in his own right.

Second, Brian A. He took a good part of his lunch hour (and maybe more) today to help on the layout. Blogger uses CSS in their design templates, and I don't understand CSS even a little. He, on the other hand, is the CSS King. I would say "Hey, what about this?" Two minutes later he'd send me the changes and say, "Try this." Awesome. As a side note, Brian A. has a webhosting service that is getting rave reviews from all sorts of people. If you're looking for reliable hosting at affordable prices, look no further than http://www.pixelreflections.com/.

Many thanks, TwoBrians. Your help is greatly appreciated. And maybe you guys should think about starting up a www.twobrians.com - the URL is taken, but it doesn't look like they're doing anything with it.

I hope you like the new look! Coming soon: clothing featuring the new logo. You know you're going to buy it.
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If you are, indeed, what you eat, then today I am beef jerky and cranberry-grape juice. There are worse things to be, I guess.

But if it is true that you are what you eat, I wonder if it works the other way: can you determine what you should eat because of who you are? Doubtful, but worthy of research, I think.
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It's not from me, but I thought many of you would be interested.

The Cynical Tyrant has a long and most excellent review of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind up on her blog. You can read it here, and I think you probably should.

I had a review of Blinx 2 for the Xbox up on DEN, but it has disappeared for some reason. Weird.

More bulletins as events warrant.
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I started my new job yesterday, and I'm wondering just what it is I've gotten myself into.

I was at two middle schools and an elementary school, but now I'm just at one school: a high school. The first big change is that the hours are different. I have to be at work at 7 a.m. now, which means getting up waaaaaaaaaaay earlier than I've been used to. It will be good for me, eventually, but the changing-over process just might kill me. When I got up this morning, I was struck with the thought that this isn't just a temporary change, this is my new schedule, my new life.

It was pretty depressing.

The upside is that I was pretty tired last night, so going to bed earlier shouldn't be a problem.

The high school is a higher pressure environment, too, so it will be interesting to see how that plays out. I'm generally what you'd call a "stress avoider," so I'm not really sure how I handle it when I have to deal with it. I guess we'll find out.
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When you're out walking at 1 in the morning, it's easy to imagine you're the last person in the world. The streets are pretty much empty, and the only clues that other people are still alive are the occasional far-off traffic noises and an illuminated window. Stray cats watch you with glowing eyes, wondering if you're going to be a source of food, one way or another. Houses you've driven past a hundred times look different, more personal, more...real. Rain-glistened streets and pale streeetlights give the histories of each house a new and somehow important new meaning: what happened here today? yesterday? five years ago? a hundred?

A late-night walk will give you what you bring to it. For some, it will reinforce a sense of mortality. The glow of a cigarette on a porch two blocks away is a thug awaiting prey. Branches scraping in the wind are a gang hurriedly approaching. For others, wind and rain and solitude will strengthen a sense of uselessness, of unchanging tides of humanity and time. For a select few, the late night wander brings renewed peace. All's right that can be, and the stars and moon and clouds in the sky are symbols of hope.
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