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Thursday, July 31, 2003
Props to Proops
I just got back from the ComedySportz Olympics featuring special guest DJ (Designated Joker) Greg Proops and boy is my funny bone tired. What great big fun. The 4 teams in the first show were great, especially Minneapolis and Eugene. The second show is probably still going on even as I write, so I have no idea how good they were. Proops got the lion's share of the applause, although he was on the whole not exactly better than the non-famous players, just perhaps more seasoned. With a zesty white wine sauce! He sweated like they did, stumbled for lines occasionally like they did, and shared elated high-fives with team members after particularly good bits. Since the DC troupe is hosting the event this year many familiar faces were in the house, acting as refs, sound humans and the like. As usual, when they passed by our table full of Public Workshop alums they mostly acknowledged that they knew us but didn't bother to like smile or anything. Harumph.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
11:05 PM
Lose your laundry
Well, I was wrong about the white Bible in the lost-and-found display at work. It's still there. Among the items added to the display in recent weeks are several more items of clothing. Seriously, what is going on? And more importantly, how do I get in on it?
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:38 PM
Unsealed, signed, and delivered
Calloo, callay! My autographed John Hiatt CD arrived today! So I had already bought the same CD a few months ago. Big deal; I've promised to send my "used" one to cyberfriend Pat as thanks for her go-betweening in arranging for the signed freebie and sending it off to me.
Admirer of Hiatt's writing as I am, I am pleased to note that his handwriting is as horrible as mine, although one must keep in mind that he probably signed his name over and over and over and over that day. Still, as one short-named person to another, all I can say is Mr. Hiatt, be glad that you are not Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio. Because then, you know, I wouldn't be as into you as I am. Mongo straight!
Oh, and a note to all you rock stars and other CD-signers out there: this clumsy music fan at least would appreciate it if in addition to removing the dread shrink wrap you -- or your flunky or whoever -- would also lift the disc out of the case then place it back, to remove that first-time stiffness. Every time I go to play a brand-new CD I endure a few lip-biting moments as I struggle to achieve the perfect balance of force whilst pushing the plastic casing down and pulling the disc up, hoping neither will crack before they separate for the first time since leaving the factory. It's especially tricky with those soft-cover cases. I ruined the visual effect of the George Harrison Brainwashed inner case's background with a nasty crack (the non-verbal kind) when I couldn't get the physics right. Damn.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:46 PM
Going Mobile
The little girl on the Four Mile Run bike path catches my attention as I drive by because of her posture. She is stopped on her little girl's bike, slumped on the handlebars, one hand resting on her ear, out of sight under a mop of long hair. Classic pouting pose. The rest of the family, including a mom, dad and younger sibling are several yards behind her on the path. Remembering times of family togetherness where I didn't necessarily want to be together with my family, love them as I do, I sympathized with the young lady whose body language conveyed frustration so eloquently. But then her hand came out from behind her hair, revealing a cell phone. Her conversation finished, she looked back over her shoulder as if wondering what was keeping everyone else. There was a bike ride to finish!
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:27 PM
Well I'll be hanged
I hit Hecht's last week for a pair of lightweight capris to wear onstage and naturally ended up with a few other items as well. At the register the nice lady asked me the same question I realized that her colleagues had also asked me the last few times I had added to my wardrobe and credit card debt, to wit "Do you want the hangers also?" Heck yeah. Joan Crawford would have a hissy at the wire hooks in spite of the fact that they swivel, but the sturdy plastic garment hangers are just what I need to supplement the plastic 12-for-$3.99 hangers my closet is filled with. I asked why taking the hangers with was suddenly an option whereas previously part of the department-store checkout ambience was the sound of plastic and metal hangers being tossed into a cardboard carton behind the register to await being pressed into display service when the next shipment of Women's Sportswear came in. The answer was that new clothes are shipped already on hangers, making for a surplus in the store when added to the cartons full of hangers of yesteryear. Super! Now, what would really be cool to be able to take home would be those exploding dye packet thingies. Help yourself to my yogurt from the office fridge? I don't think so, bwa-ha-ha!
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
11:51 PM
Maybe that's why it's called the green room
I was a Kiwi bird in my first-grade ballet recital. The next-younger class were pussycats. Man, I really wanted to be one of them instead of a stupid flightless bird whose dance consisted mainly of futile arm-flapping and some toe-pointing. It should say something that I remember that their song was called "The Pussycat Parade" yet I have zero recollection of the kiwi tune I danced to. Ironically, we kiwis wore the more traditional and usually coveted sparkles-and-tulle ballerina costumes while the pussycats performed in the regulation black Danskins we all wore for class. But their prancing feline dance appealed to me more than mine and their plain leotards were adorned with two simple yet effective props: felt kittycat tails safety-pinned to their fannies and the coolest cat-ear headbands EVER. Being old sucks.
I told this story to my improv group recently as a tangent to a show-prep conversation. I remembered that I had a photo of my kiwi-costumed six-year-old self and dug through the hall closet in search of it. I located the album but the picture was missing. Dang. I mean, I hated the costume, but it's a cute picture all the same.
Oh, and our improv show last night? Went over reasonably well, more details to follow another day. The best news was that we were all responsible for our own for costumes and material so there was not coveting going on. Yay!
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
8:55 PM
When you daydream on a star
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
10:47 PM
You've Got Travail!
Day Three or Four with a new webmail client and I'm not really seeing a benefit. On the plus side, the update allows me to set my own time zone instead of imposing Pacific time on me, thus releasing me from a perpetual cycle of mentally adding three hours to every timestamp. Oh, and the spam filter seems to work just dandy, which is nice. But on the minus side the "check remote mail" link I used so often and so well on the old version is gone like a Nixon file. When I re-configured my remote accounts (which I don't know why I had to in the first place -- shouldn't the previous settings have carried over?) I had the new option of having them checked at login and/or "periodically", with no idea of how often "periodically" was and zero chance to choose a desired interval. Which means that while yes, I do get mail from my many alias accounts and yes, they do get nicely sorted according to the rules I had set up on the old client, I no longer have the regal power of clicking a link and summoning forth all outside messages at my bidding. What I have to do is keep an eye on the various folders and the number of unread messages reported therein. I'd rather go back to mentally adding three hours to timestamps.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
4:54 PM
Cutting remarks
So I remedied the needing-a-haircut situation this afternoon. Results? Ehnhh. I've had better cuts, but at least it's off my back -- literally, and will have more bounce for a while. Perhaps the disappointing cut is due in part to the fracas going on in the nail salon adjacent to the hair salon. A loud dispute was going on between customer and manicurist over whether the customer had tendered two twenties or a twenty and a ten. I was in the blow-dry phase of my own treatment when the issue was resolved so I don't know what the outcome was. Judging by the way the customer flounced out I imagine that whether she got her way (and her cash) or not, she will not be returning there anytime soon.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
10:43 PM
Under the wire
A quick post before the midnight hour to say that I'm alive and, well, well. And I need a haircut.
Which reminds me, in Alice in Wonderland the Mad Hatter tells Alice at one point "your hair wants cutting," although it might have been another character who said that and it could possibly have been in Through the Looking-Glass. Whatever. The context of the remark always led me to believe that the length of Alice's locks were not really what was being commented on here. I took it as kind of a W.C. Fields-esque "go away, kid, you bother me" type of line. I was reminded of it back when watching the first episode of Absolutely Fabulous when Edina says goodbye to her daughter Saffron and says "Have a nice little haircut" the same way one might say "have a nice day." Hmmmm. Must be a Brit thing then. Which is my heritage, although sadly it is the Brit side of the family that has the really bad (and really thin) hair that I inherited, so no wonder I'm not hip to the expression.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
11:56 PM
How gauche
I bought left-handed pants. It was a mistake, I swear. They're capris, perfect for the office on a casual summer Friday. I have another pair in the same size from the same label so I didn't bother trying these on when I found them on sale at Hecht's; I was pretty sure they'd fit. Which they do (well, they're a little loose, actually -- whoo-hoo!) What I didn't anticipate was that they'd come equipped with a left-handed fly. I bought them in the women's department, I'm sure of it. I buy most of my clothes there. Besides, men don't wear kicky capris with blue flowers and dragonflies on them, rendering the left-handed lapped zipper and waistband buttons somewhat of a mystery. Not to mention a bit of a struggle in the ladies' room, but I'm learning to manage.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
10:47 PM
Every good blogger deserves favor
All hail cyber-friend Pat Alder, who made my day today not only by honoring my request for an undeserved and possibly unreasonable favor but by netting me more than I had asked for in the first place. See, I had learned by dint of a record label mailing list that one of my musical heroes, John Hiatt, is to be a guest on Don Imus' radio show tomorrow morning. This is not a show I listen to as a rule, being more of a music-radio than talk-radio person, and although I would make a point of tuning in tomorrow I can't because of being at work and stuff. But I remembered that Pat had some connection or other to Imus and so I fired off a shameless e-mail to her asking her to work whatever magic she could to at least pass along word of my admiration to Mr. Hiatt and at most wangle me an autograph. One phone call by Pat to Imus' assistant later and I had assurance that my starry-eared message would be relayed to Himself AND that an autographed CD would be secured for me. Wow! Yay! Whoo-hoo! Keep Britain tidy!
Bonus karma points: Pat had never heard of Hiatt before. Perhaps this stint as a go-between will turn her on to him.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
2:59 PM
Do Phone Sex Workers Have Caller Libido?
The phone isn't as ok as I thought. My Caller ID box shows no incoming calls at all, which is false, since I have a pair of wake-up reminder calls come in every morning. I can call out, but incoming calls ring for a half-tone then go off either to voice mail or some other place that I can only hope is a happy one. According to Verizon's web page I have call forwarding, but it is not activated. I reported the incoming call problem to Verizon and they scheduled a technician for tomorrow sometime between 8am and 6pm and gave me the "will someone be there?" bit. Um, not convenient for me, sorry. I'll have to pay scrupulous attention to the voice mail and maybe forward calls to my cell phone in the interim. Or find a couple of Dixie cups and a nice piece of string.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
11:33 PM
That's one way to stop telemarketers
Well, golly. Seems like my phone line was dead for a day or so and I didn't even notice. Most of my communicating gets done online and at the risk of sounding like a total and utter loser, it's not unusual for a Sunday to go by without any incoming phone calls. The DSL line is fine and calls to my home number from outside were picked up by my "I'm on another call, please leave a message" message, but I was unable to retrieve said messages because, as I said, the phone line in the house was really most sincerely dead. A mystery, as I not only am current on my bill, but I am SO current I have a credit balance. Bizarre. I just got home from improv practice and the phone is ok now. So if you tried calling me and left a message, I may not have received it. But I'm going to bed now so if you do call, please dial quietly.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
11:12 PM
Thanks
Thankew all who told me where indeed the DC Metro Blog Map had been posted. It was on slate.com. No wonder I didn't see it -- I'm the only living soul inside the Beltway who really is neither a news junkie nor politically astute. But thanks for caring, man. About a nanosecond after my last post I arrived at that information all by my own big girl self. But ya know, if I hadn't've asked I wouldn't've known.
In other news, I am tickled pink to report having survived another July 4 in Our Nation's Capital. No, I didn't go down to the Mall. Been there, done that, hate crowds. I do marvel, though, at the combination of much luck and little brains that my neighbors displayed as they set off fireworks in the open space nearest their unit -- the parking lot. The parking lot full of cars. Cars full of gasoline. Nimrods.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
10:49 PM
I once was found but now I'm lost
It must not be Anything Special Month, as the display case in my office building that is normally given over to celebrating the culture or hero du mois is currently occupied by a pegboard full of items turned into the Lost and Found. The most highly represented types of found items are keychains and eyeglasses. Other items include a few Walkmen and a matching eyelet skirt and top. I don't think I want to know the conditions under which that last item might have been lost. It could mean someone is having way more fun at work than I am. Even so, as I perused the perdition collection the item that intrigued me the most was the Bible with white leather cover and folded piece of notebook paper sticking out of the pages near the back. I'm not sure why. I am sure that I'd bet money that that will be the first item claimed by its rightful and no doubt righteous owner.
P.S. A great big hi and hello to visitors who found their way here by way of the DC Metro Blog map. Huge uptick in hits from that site in the past few days. Can anyone tell me where the blog map URL might have been featured that has attracted such attention?
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:13 PM
Fatherless Children
This Reuters headline just appeared on my screen:
Male Infertility Can Be Passed on to Children
Um, how, exactly?
Note: yes, I read the article. I know how, really. But any double-take inducing headline is worth blogging, so there.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
1:46 PM