Thursday, March 19, 2015

Sleepy Knees

A Conversation between me and Boyfriend at bedtime:

Me: (After tossing and turning, and kicking for several minutes) Ugh!!!  I'm so hot!  It's March, why am I so hot already?!

Boyfriend: Well, it was 84 today and you're wearing pants.

Me: I know, but I'm hot, I can't sleep.

Boyfriend: Well, take off your pants, then, crazy lady.  (I can hear his eyes rolling at me)

Me:  I don't want to.

Boyfriend: Why?  You'll be more comfortable.

Me: No I won't, I don't want me knees to touch.  I can't sleep with my knees touching.

Boyfriend: You're knees?

Me: My knees.  I can't sleep on my side if they're touching.

Boyfriend: Well, just put the covers between them

Me: No, because then my butt gets cold

Boyfriend:  So get some knee-pads or something.

Me: No, they're too bulky and will bunch up and make my knees sweaty.  I hate sweaty knees.

Boyfriend: Well, it sounds like you need to design some sort of special knee.......socks to help you and people with your affliction. (He is barely containing his laughter/snark at this point)

Me: You laugh at me, but I have thought extensively about that very idea.  Here's my plan:  I want to write to the memory foam mattress people, you know how you can request a free sample of memory foam before you buy a whole mattress?  Well, I get a piece of foam and make a prototype with some sort of skin-friendly straps on it.  And strap it to one leg so it sits nicely in between my knees when I sleep.

Boyfriend:  You know we do have access to an entire foam plant, you could just ask for some. (Boyfriend's dad is a chemist working in the mattress foam industry.)

Me:  I don't need that much foam just for my knee.

Boyfriend: Oh no, I'm thinking mass production and marketing at this point.  There must be other people out there that...hate having their knees touch...you could design them and sell them on QVC.  You could call them SLEEPY KNEES!  

Me: Oh my god shut up.

Boyfriend: And then you could have a line of elbow pads called El-Doze.  We're gonna be rich.

Me: Shut up now I'm even hotter from laughing.


I eventually gave in and slept with no pants and the comforter wrapped around one leg so that my knees never touched.

Monday, March 16, 2015

Dear Me

I wrote a letter to my 14 year-old self.

Making this video was very healing for me. I hope it can help anyone else who has ever felt broken or "wired wrong."



Monday, January 19, 2015

I Made a Thing! (UPDATED)

So this isn't really a post.  
It's just me saying, "Hey guys, I made a thing!  You should go watch it and give me constructive criticism."  
Kthnxbai!


 

After Boyfriend watched my video, I flopped down on the couch and released a massive sigh of relief because I accomplished something. Then this happened: 

Me: I did it! I made a thing. I posted a video. 

Boyfriend: You did! And it's good! 

Me: Thanks. 

Boyfriend: I'm proud of you. And you didn't record it vertically so I don't have to be embarrassed. 

Me: You suck.

Monday, December 29, 2014

Memory Lane Monday: (What I hope will be) The Final Installment of My Shit Hole Apartment

I haven't posted one of these stories in a while, even though many of you (all 3 of you) have told me how much you like them. The reason for this is mostly because I haven't had any really blog-worthy apartment stories lately. On one hand I'm thankful, but on the other hand it means I actually have to come up with my own topics and that's just exhausting after spending most of the day looking for actual paying work, while trying to keep my inner demons at bay. But I digress...

 So far I don't have any crazy apartment stories from our new digs here in Cali mostly because even though we're certainly not living in a giant Hollywood McMansion or anything, our current residence is such a vast improvement over almost anywhere I ever lived in NYC, that I just don't have the capacity to complain about it yet. Other than our extremely pot-enthusiastic neighbors downstairs who like to hold band practice everyday all day (and boy oh boy they turn it up to 11) our place isn't awful. So without further ado, I give you the absolute last story possible from our Queens Shit-Hole Apartment:

The Final (NYC) Installment of My Shit-Hole Apartment:
Fucking Seriously?!

It was no secret that Boyfriend and I were moving out of our shitty Queens apartment, and out of NYC. All of our neighbors who bothered to peek their heads out of their windows knew it. Neighbors we'd never even spoke to in the 2.5 years we lived there knew we were moving and asked us about it. Even Crazy Mary across the hall wished us luck a couple of days before we left. Crazy. This same woman who a month prior had gotten really high/drunk and fallen asleep while she had something on the stove which made the smoke alarm go off, which made the fire department and the building super have to clamber through our apartment to get to the fire escape to break into her apartment and take care of the situation.  Given Crazy Mary's history, what happened the night before Boyfriend, Leeloo and I were to hit the road for the west coast should not have come as such a shock, but it came as the final boot in the ass from NYC.

The day before moving day, we were set to load up the car, and it was hectic to say the least. I don't remember much except that it was just one long anxiety attack for me, and poor Leeloo wasn't doing much better. It was a flurry of activity and troubled breathing and crying fits as Boyfriend and I tried to get rid of the last of our furniture and pack the last of our belongings hoping against all hope that everything would fit in our car. 

This is not far from the truth
Our dear friends, Krista, and Jen even came over late that night to help us pack, clean, shove the last of our things into the van, and say our final farewells.  Around midnight, Boyfriend, Leeloo and I tried to settle on to our air mattress in the middle of our living room for one last short night's sleep.  Little did we know how short it would be...

At around 3am, there came a banging on our door, followed by the unmistakeable shrill skull-splitting sound of our neighbor, Crazy Mary yelling, "Neighbor?!  Neighbor?!?!  Is your cable out?"  Boyfriend and I both groggily said, "What the fuck?!" as Leeloo sprinted around the living room barking furiously.  Boyfriend and I tried to ignore the banging on our door for a moment, yet it continued.  It continued for an unnecessarily long time especially since it was 3am and no one was dying.  All the while Crazy Mary kept yelling "Neighbor?! Neighbor?!"

Finally, Boyfriend climbed off the mattress and opened the door violently.  Again, Crazy Mary asked if our cable was out.  Boyfriend growled, "I. Don't. Know.  It's 3 o'clock in the morning.  We are moving across the country in 3 hours.  We have no cable, we don't even have a TV anymore."

And in classic Crazy Mary fashion, she replied, "Oh. Sorry,"  nonplussed as ever.

Fucking Crazy Mary.

Of all the nights that we needed some sleep, this was the one.  Did we get it?  Of course not.  Not on our last night as New Yorkers.  It was like the bow on the gift that is living in NYC.

I'm sure I will have some more shit-hole apartment stories in the future at least until Boyfriend and I can be real-live adults and buy a house, but until then, life is not horrible, and our current place is not so bad...yet.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Post Halloween Post

So magically, last year on Halloween (our first day in California) it was cloudy and overcast and rained a little.  This year it was cloudy and overcast and rained A LOT.  I don't know what that means, but I'm too tired from the 3 parties we graced with our presence (presences?) and also I think I've come down with death virus.  Not as bad as that one time, but I feel a nasty cold has fallen upon mine house. Yay.

Anywho,  I hope everyone had a fun and safe Halloween.  I went as a creepy doll on Friday and a mysterious doctor (wink wink) on Saturday.  Boyfriend went as...well see if you can guess:

Me, and my friend Ryan as Classic Lego Spaceman

Creepy Doll

Creepy Doll & Boyfriend (photo courtesy of Joey Nicole Thomas)

Get it? GET IT?!?!

Doctor Who and the Digiorno Pizza Delivery kid
You know, this kid (who is actually our friend Stephen)

This year beat last year when we were so exhausted from being on the road that we barely got to enjoy anything, or the year a hurricane kind of spoiled our fun.  So thanks to my friends old and new who made this last year what it was.  And boy was it something...

Monday, October 27, 2014

Memory Lane Monday: Scarred For Life Edition or What Were Our Parents Thinking?

Do you remember?  You do, don't you?  You remember that random scene in that one movie that had little consequence to the rest of the film, but it scared you.  Terrified you to your very core.  It gave you nightmares and scarred your wee child soul.  For life.
Or maybe it was a TV show.  Or a commercial.  Or a picture in a book.  Never intended to ruin your mind, but just create drama within the medium.  Oh but it did.  It created drama and fear in your brain.  It ruined you didn't it?

OK, I'm being overly dramatic, but you know what I'm talking about: we all had images we were exposed to in our childhood that were upsetting or terrified us.  And most of these came from children's books/movies/TV!  What were the grown-ups thinking?

So here are some things from children's movies/TV/books that scarred me for life:

-The Rite of Spring sequence in Disney's Fantasia 


 OK, I don't know how much Disney actually intended this movie for children per se, but this entire sequence of the movie crushed my soul and haunted my dreams. We start off with an awesome scene of dinosaurs. Hell yes.  Then a storm rolls in and holy shit it's a T-Rex and all the other dinos and critters are scared shitless, but the bad ass stego decided to take him on.  And then dies a horrible and dramatic death. Now I'm sad and scared.  But it doersn't stop there.  Then we get to watch as every dinosaur on the planet suffers a slow and agonizing death as we see the great extinction.  Yay.  I'm serious when I say this gave me bad dreams for a week.
 

-The "Giant Mouse of Minsk" scene from An American Tail



If I have one person in all of entertainment to thank for single-handedly scarring me for life more than anyone else, it would be one Mr. Don Bluth.  Most of the "kids" movies that ruined me, Don Bluth had a hand in (I'm looking at you Land Before Time and All Dogs Go to Heaven!) Really anything directed by Don Bluth belongs on this list, but I chose this scene from An American Tail because look at it!
 


Thanks for the nightmares, Don Bluth.

 
-In a Dark Dark Room and Other Scary Stories


 Yup, that's the same Alvin Schwartz who penned the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark series which was just a treasure trove of haunting imagery.  Seriously, pick up any Scary Stories book and flip to a random page. Boom. Nightmare fuel. 

You didn't need to sleep tonight, right?
But In a Dark Dark Room was intended for very young readers and it haunted six-year-old me with images like this:

That cat could not give less of a shit.
 Yup.  Nothing like reading a small child a story that ends with an old lady's head falling off. (Spoilers)

 -Pretty much any episode of Are You Afraid of the Dark?


90's kids, this show was our jam, amiright?!  Every Saturday night, my butt was firmly planted in my favorite arm chair and I was glued to this show.  But let's be real, this show was scary as shit. The opening credits alone were pulled directly from your nightmares.  They were like the creepy VHS tape in The Ring but less...horse-murdery.  Pick any AYAotD? episode and there was probably a terrifying image that made hundreds of kids pee themselves.

Exhibit A


Fear of children? Check.

Exhibit B


Nosferatu haunted my dreams for literally weeks. 

Exhibit C

Thanks for that fear of indoor swimming pools, Nickelodeon.

Also, this:

This.  This was a goddamn kids show!!!


Beh.  I need to go back to therapy now.  
Sweet dreams, kids!

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Insert Heavy Sigh Here

Source
I've done my best to make my blog a positive funny place for people to come read my ridiculous thoughts and ramblings, and then go about their lives.  The only time I get really serious is talking about mental illness because it's something we need to keep having conversations about.  The more we talk about it, hopefully the less stigma will surround it.  

Normally, I don't weigh in on big news here simply because I don't want to add to the noise that's already out there.  But there is something troubling me that I want to discuss.  

What in the ever-loving fuck is up with Gamer Gate?!  It's become a wildfire with a life of it's own and I've tried to just sort of keep it in my peripheral just in case things got ugly, but mostly just tried to stay away.  Well you know what?!  Things just got ugly.  Doxxing Felicia Day simply because she wrote that the threats on women in the name of Gamer Gate gave her cause for concern for her own privacy/safety is some low-class horseshit.

I've stayed quiet until now simply because I didn't want any part of the ever-growing shit-storm that seems to be hitting women in this industry.  That's right, I'm afraid.  I'm not a public figure.  I'm not a developer.  I'm not even really a journalist.  I just write a blog and make some videos in my own little corner of the internet.  It's not a perfect internet existence, but it's mine. It's mine and I will defend it tooth and nail.  If I curl up and hide and go away, they win.  They. The collective (or who knows, maybe it's just one person) threatening harm to women in the industry, posting their personal details online so that someone more unhinged than they may decide to actually do harm.  All in the name of stopping corruption in gaming journalism?!?

I know I'm not the only one who sees how fundamentally fucked up this is right?

I'm going to be completely honest, this is what those ass-hats threatening women in the name of Gamer Gate at the core looks like to me:

"I'm a male gamer. Video games have always been made for and marketed to me.  Hey, look over there, it's a vagina.  That vagina says it likes games too.  Whatever. It just says that for attention.  Wait, it's a (developer/journalist/nerd) and has an opinion I don't like?!  Kill  it.  It's evil and it's ruining gaming and corrupting gaming journalism. It gives real gamers like me a bad name."

(Obviously I'm being hyperbolic...a little. But every time a woman is threatened or doxxed in the name of Gamer Gate simply because she expressed an opinion, my discontent with the movement grows.)  

I understand that these few assholes don't speak for the movement at large, but the root of the problem appears to be straight up sexism and misogyny.  No matter what it really is all about at its core, Gamer Gate has certainly shed a light on how deep sexism still runs in the gaming industry. So, yay?   

Half of me wants to lash out in defense of my fellow female gamers. You know, dish out some good old fashioned vigilante justice and shit.  Haunt some dreams or cut on some people who threaten my ladies (you know, stoop to that level.)  But the other half of me wants to curl up and hide in my bed and hope it all goes away soon.  But, we have to face the notion that it's not going away.  But then neither am I.  Felicia reminded us to keep gaming because it's beautiful.  So that's what I'm gonna do.

Source

 They fucked with Felicia Day, you guys.  Someone hand me my hat.