Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Ahhhh! Oh God, where the hell have you been??

Uh, hi, guys. Apparently I suck at updating, even during the summer. Sorry.

It started with this series of books I was finishing. I was down to the last two and really wanted to finish both of them before I got back to blogging. Then when I finally did finish them...well, you know how when you've been absorbed in a book for a while it's kinda hard to separate yourself from that book once you've finished it? It's like your brain needs an adjustment period before you can step back into reality. Yeah, I know, it's just me and I should probably be on some kind of medication for that. But basically that's what happened. Not dead, not kidnapped by trolls, not being held hostage for drug money, just...me being a total and complete geek. Yep, that's me. Sorry.

Since I've already missed about a week, I feel I should give fair warning that I may be a little AWOL for the next few days as I attempt to tweak and edit my 2009 NaNoWriMo novel for the free print copy that I won this year. It won't be finished, in fact it's barely half done, but I figure I may as well edit what I have since I went ahead and got the unfinished print copy of my NaNo novel from 2008. That way they can be friends.

In the meantime, here are some glamour shots of Pearl. I swear she is the easiest cat in the world to photograph.

Until next time.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Gotta love the '50s

Skeeve sent me this just now and since I haven't posted anything for today, you all get to stare at it with me. I never know whether to laugh or throw up when I read these sort of things. Here's a link to the original photo Skeeve sent me. I've taken the liberty of transcribing it below. My thoughts are in italics surrounded by parentheses.

The good wife's guide
Housekeeping Monthly, 13 May 1955

  • Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him (and his life-threatening peanut allergy) and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home (Because they're too stupid to eat unless their wife tells them to) and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favourite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed.
  • Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking (If you don't look perfect all the time then he'll know your entire marriage is a lie!). He has just been with a lot of work-weary people
  • Be a little gay (Ask him if Gary in advertising is still being obsessing over Judy Garland) and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it. (That's why Suzanne majored in fire-eating!)
  • Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives. (You don't want the house to look lived in)
  • Gather up schoolbooks, toys, paper, etc and then run a dustcloth over the tables.
  • Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction. (Because you're not smart enough to pursue your own personal fulfillment)
  • Prepare the children. (They've been training for this moment for months!) Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair and, if necessary, change their clothes. They are little treasures and he would like to see them palying the art. Minimise all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet.
  • Be happy to see him. (Even though the sight of him makes you seethe with resentment and bitterness)
  • Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him. (Those drama lessons sure were helpful)
  • Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first--remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours. (In fact, never have a thought or opinion of your own. It's just bad manners)
  • Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you. (Take solace in your collection of poems by Anne Sexton) Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax.
  • Your goal: Try to make sure your home is a place of peace, order and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.
  • Don't greet him with complaints and problems.
  • Don't complain if he's late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day. (Once he tells you about the Davison portfolio falling through, the hookers will seem totally justified)
  • Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him. (Preferably spiked with arsenic)
  • Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing and pleasant voice. (So he won't suspect it when you kill him)
  • Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgement or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him. (Who are we kidding? You don't have any rights.)
  • A good wife always knows her place. (And it sure as hell isn't here)
I think we need a little something to lighten the mood after that.

Ahhhhh, there we go. All better :D

Sunday, June 20, 2010

In honor of Fathers' Day

It's weird how we remember things. How do our brains decide which memories to store and which to move to the trash file to make room for new data? Why, for example, is it more important that I remember my dad making me blood orange juice for breakfast when I was six than how to find the hypotenuse of a right triangle? I dunno. All I know is that I have some vivid, seemingly inconsequential memories surrounding my dad and the things we used to do when I was a kid. So, in honor of Fathers’ Day, here they are.

Yes, indeed, my dad used to make me fresh squeezed orange juice from Sicilian blood oranges. But that wasn’t the end of it. He also told me weird stories about how Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, and Scotty had to beam down to some alien planet to get said oranges. Don’t ask. Just smile and nod and drink your juice, that’s what I did. My dad also made me scrambled eggs in every color of the rainbow after I became obsessed with Green Eggs and Ham. Scrambled eggs were the first thing he taught me how to cook and I could make them all by myself by the time I was five or six. Of course you can’t have scrambled eggs without toast, so my dad would make toast and then use various cookie cutters to make all sorts of different shapes and sizes. I had rocking horse toast a lot.

Both of my parents love language and were eager to feed my rapidly growing mind with a wealth of vocabulary, but it was my Dad who witnessed my first word when I was six months old and convinced my mom that I knew what the hell I was talking about. Now, obviously I don’t actually remember the moment I said my first word. I was six months old. I’m willing to bet I was more interested in wondering when my next meal was coming than the nuances of memory retention. My first word was "kitty cat". Pretty complex for a six month old, even if it did come out sounding more like “key cat”. But the point was that I connected the word to the thing and it wasn’t until we were in a restaurant and my mom saw me staring at a picture of a black cat on the wall and exclaiming “Key cat! Key cat!” that she realized my father wasn’t crazy.

Like most parents, my dad told me bedtime stories. But if you’ve been paying attention so far, you know that they couldn’t possibly be the same fairy tales that every other kid got. The one I heard most often was “Ronnie, Sununu, and Quayle”—a parody of “The Three Little Pigs”. Nancy Reagan was The Big Bad Wolf. But instead of trying to eat all the pigs she blew down their houses because she wanted to have a look at their china pattern. As you can imagine, I had no chance of growing up in a politically neutral household. Add that to the fact that my dad introduced me to both Mel Brooks and Monty Python at a very young age and I didn’t have a chance.

The first Mel Brooks movie I saw was Young Frankenstein and it was from there that my young brain learned the concept of quoting movie lines in everyday conversation. My mom and dad were in the kitchen one day putting away groceries and getting dinner started. Dad was on the floor putting away sodas while mom was doing something in one of the cupboards. Intending to help, I walked up to my dad and asked, “Need a hand?” whereby my father and I looked at each other in a moment of mutual inspiration and declared, “No thanks—got one!" My mom slowly turned around, staring down at us with a look of abject horror on her face as if to say, “Aw, hell. Now there are two of them.”

This may surprise people, but I was somewhat reluctant to learn how to read. My mother used to be an actress, you see, and she read to me so well that I didn’t really see any reason why I should bother to learn. She made me practice anyway, much to my chagrin, and promised me that the more I learned the more I wouldn’t be able to help reading. Every letter had a sound and every word had a meaning and there would come a time when I wouldn’t be able to look at a word without reading it. Turns out the bitch was right.

The part my dad played in all this was less active but no less involved. He went crazy on Microsoft word one day and printed out labels, which he then taped to nearly every object in the house so that whenever I walked by something I could see the word for it in bold block print. Kitchen, door, stove, microwave, window, bookshelf, table—everything in the house had a label. He would have taped a label to the cat if we had one when I was four.

My dad also taught me big words like actually and rhetorical and I was using them correctly when I was five years old. I think he knew for sure by then that I was way ahead of most of my peers.

Of course I’m sure it helped that I was taken on a lot of intellectual outings as a kid. One of my favourite excursions was the Getty Museum, back in the day when there was only one of them. I’m not sure how much history I actually picked up there, but I did learn two very important things: 1) How to behave in a museum and 2) How to enjoy museums. I don’t know how my parents managed it, if I just had a laid back temperament or if my parents were more interested in my enjoyment than they were in theirs. Whichever it was, I discovered that I liked looking at old stuff and thinking about how people lived a very long time ago. You can probably blame both parents for my double major in English and History.

One thing my dad still goes nuts over is Christmas. When I was a kid he would hang garland wrapped with these round frosted red and white lights that looked like berries all over the house. I really miss those lights. I can’t find anything else like them. I still have a strand of the white ones on which only one half of the lights work, but you’ll never get me to throw it away.

One year Dad brought home some clay and acrylic paints and we made our own ornaments using Christmas cookie cutters. We did a bunch of stars and tiny reindeer with different colored saddles. I also made a couple ornaments that weren’t Christmas themed, like a giant chocolate ice cream cone. Dad taught me how to use a toothpick to make a waffle cone texture in the clay and we baked them all in the oven after poking a hole in the top for the hooks to go through. Mom still has those and every year they go up on the tree.

The first Christmas song I ever learned was “Santa Clause is Coming to Town." I used to sing it a lot with my grandfather, who would stop at the end of every refrain for my solo, which consisted of an exuberant, “Tooooo tooooown!" I liked it so much that my dad arranged a jazzy version of the song for the piano and played it for me almost every day in December. My dad also taught me more obscure Christmas songs, songs that most kids my age probably didn’t know. One of those was “Christmas is Coming” and it was my second favorite song after Santa Clause.

I don’t know why I’ve remembered all this stuff, but I’m kind of glad that my brain saved these random bits of childhood for me to look back on. So I guess what I’m trying to say is, thanks for all the random bits of childhood, Dad. And...you know, all the other stuff you do on a regular basis. Happy Fathers’ Day.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Obie finally ate something!

So I know that's not exactly newsworthy to most people, but my cat's been driving me crazy for the past few weeks refusing just about everything I put in front of him. I picked up some glucosamine treats a few days ago for his little kitty joints and he scarfed those down right quick, so I knew he wasn't sick or anything, just being an entitled pain in the ass. You know, like most cats.

I wasn't too worried about him getting food because I know for a fact that he hunts his own game. The old boy is 13 years old and an experienced hunter. In fact, he was yowling his head off just yesterday because he needed to show off the mousie he caught as he was eating it :P He's brought home birds, mice, rats--big rats, and...scary looking...rodent....things that I'm really not sure what they were. In any case, he wasn't acting sickly, just stubborn. So I was more annoyed than worried.

Then finally tonight he ate the entire can of shredded food that I put down for him. Now hopefully he'll sleep through the night and won't wake me up and 2:00 am because he's feeling peckish and needs to go out and kill himself some breakfast. Crotchety old man...

Friday, June 18, 2010

Suddenly, second graders! Thousands of them!

I'm running on about three hours sleep right now.

I knew I'd have to be up before seven this morning, but I really wanted to finish the book I was reading last night. So I finally got to the end at about 1:00 am, which meant I'd get roughly five hours of sleep. Not great, but not awful. Then I went out to the kitchen to get a glass of water and wound up talking to my mom, who was also awake for some reason, for another hour. By the time I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and actually got into bed it was 3:00 am. Mom woke me up this morning at 6:30 -_-

I spent a full day (plus two and a half hours after school) helping kids type Fathers' Day letters, packing away crayons for the summer, and helping Mom fill out her cumulative reports. That's new school talk for updating students' permanent records.

And what do I have to show for it? Bruises all over my legs from bumping into cold, unforgiving, institutional student chairs and desks that only come up to my knees. It's not quite as bad as it sounds considering I inherited my mother's thin skin. Everything shows up no matter how miniscule. I'll get a bruise if I bump into a mattress the wrong way.

I'm gonna go now cause the computer screen is starting to look kinda fuzzy. Time for all good house elves to go beddy bye. Nini.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Yeah, yeah, I know

I missed another day :P I had to get up at an ungodly 5:45 am this morning to accompany my mom to school and help her clean out her classroom for the summer. I fell asleep last night before I could write up a post.

Tomorrow is the last day of school, for the students at least. The parents are organizing a party, which means I get free lunch tomorrow--woohoo! We have to have the room in order by Monday. I know Mom will be giving away a bunch of books and throwing out other things she hasn't used in the past five years. I should probably make some kind of resolution once I become a teacher to go through all my junk every five years and give away anything I haven't used. Sounds good to me.

I came across this Monty Python skit that I don't recall ever seeing before. Check out John Cleese in a tight shirt and short pants. Hot damn!

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

What I would give for a cookie and a shower...

Yup, still reading. There were more books in the series than I thought. Well, not really. I knew all this other stuff was supposed to happen before I picked up the latest book, but I couldn't remember the titles of the ones I was missing. Looked at the inside cover and sure enough there were the two I'd forgotten about. So I just started re-reading one book, I've got two more after that, and then I'll be able to start the newest book that I have yet to touch. Yup. Reading is good. I'm knocking out about one a day so at this pace I should be up to date with the series by the end of the week. Depending on how much help God needs packing up her classroom for the summer.

Not much else happening around here. Right now I'm waiting for everyone to go to sleep so I can take a shower in silence. Don't ask me why they're watching loud movies at five til' midnight. I don't know either.

I'm also getting random cookie cravings. Anyone wanna come over and bake me some cookies? Rob will lick the bowl so you don't have to worry about cleanup! Or better yet, how bout we go out for pizookies? I think I'll skip the orange cream soda this time. God damn, that was a lot of sugar in one sitting.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Aw, hell

I missed a day. How did that happen?

I guess that's what happens when you're busy reading. I've only got about three more books to go until I'm caught up with the series. Give me a break, I haven't had the time to read anything but textbooks all semester.

More to report later after I have finished my current book.

Saturday, June 12, 2010


Can't talk now. Readin' my book. Trying to get to the end of the series by the end of next week.

Tomorrow I'm going for walkies even if it kills me.

That's all for now. Check in tomorrow to see if I've survived.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Because I like taking things to the nth degree

And also because I didn't have anything in particular to write about today.

...and because I was having too much fun fooling around with the new blogger templates >.>

Ahem. Anyway, I received this email from a Concerned American (i.e. my father, who likes to constantly test my creative and intellectual abilities). Normally I would address such an important matter myself, but I was feeling kinda lazy so I let Timmy handle it instead. Hedgehogs are good PR managers.

Edited for spelling and punctuation.

Note: yes, of course this is entirely satirical. Don't get your panties in a twist.

Ciaó Principessa,

While I love your Blog with its biting commentary, educational visual aids and general "American Can DO" spirit, I'm writing to you today as a concerned Patriotic and Proud American Movie Goer with one simple question: WHY is the cartoon given German captions? What is Minnie, if that IS her real name, doing instructing our Nazi enemies in life saving skills? What kind of turncoat is this rodent. Is her real name Axis Minnie or Munich Minnie or Minnie the Municher? Is she greasing with the blood of brave American Animators the wheels of the Axis in its role to world domination?

I'm not too surprised at whatever part Figaro, Der Furher Feline plays since cats are notoriously unfaithful, drawn to whomever has the most kibble, the biggest ball of yarn or the catnip with the biggest nip. I won't get into the Nips right now either, but I'm sure the Land of the Rising Sun also has been getting more than a little help from this sushi loving Siamese. How much plastic surgey did he get to make him look like round eyes so he could spy and blend in? A visit to Dr. Samurai and it's Kitty Time for Tojo! Just where was HE on December 7th? NO doubt with his furry little heinie in the air pointing toward the Arizona!

And Pluto, poor bastard. No doubt pulled from some stalag at gun point, forced to eat snitzengubenchow, and subjected to medical experimentation that makes your mind reel. He'll get the purple heart AND the medal of honor I swear and he will be avenged!

Concerned American


Dear Sir,

Thank you for your interest in our blog! Customer satisfaction is our highest priority and we pride ourselves on responding promptly to all reader inquiries. According to Skeeve, our animation specialist, the cartoon to which you refer was subtitled in German by the person(s) who originally uploaded the video in order to circumvent copyright laws enforced by www.youtube.com Our specialist explains that doing so helps avoid detection by youtube and various copyright lawyers, resulting in the video remaining on the website longer before it is eventually detected and removed.

We have no reason to believe that Minnie Mouse or Figaro Kitten are in any way affiliated or otherwise connected with Nazi Germany. As we are sure you are aware, Mr. Figaro served proudly with our allies in WWII http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Figaro_(Disney)#WWII_Mascot and is a decorated veteran in both the U.K. and the United States.

We hope this has answered your question. If you have any further inquiries please do not hesitate to contact us at http://theblueselkie.blogspot.com/ Thank you again for your interest in our blog.

Mr. Timothy Hedgehog,
Customer Service
Travels Aboard The Blue Selkie

I think Timmy handled that rather well. He is a professional after all.

And no, I didn't know Figaro was a WWII mascot either. I just went to wikipedia to see if he has a last name. He doesn't, but I gave him one anyway.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

This is why it pays to have friends who are animation geeks

A couple days ago I posted a photo I took of a drawing I found of Pluto being bandaged up by Minnie Mouse. As I'm sure you all remember, I found it oddly disturbing at the time and couldn't figure out why Minnie appeared to be so cheerful about something that was obviously causing Pluto a lot of discomfort. Well, that's why I have Skeeve.

My friend Skeeve, Wolfidy here on Blogger, pointed out that the drawing was actually a reference to a Disney cartoon called "First-Aiders" made in 1944. She even provided a link to the cartoon on youtube. After watching it again I can actually say that I vaguely remember the damn thing! So here's the cartoon in all it's classic technicolor glory for all to see.

I always felt kinda bad for Figaro. It's because of him we have the rumor that Walt Disney hated cats.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Trix are for stoners

So I was up late reading last night (I decided to re-read the entire series before I start on the newest book) when the hungries struck.

So, like any twenty-something year old awake at one in the morning, I poked through the kitchen looking for a post-midnight snack. We had a fair amount of food in the house: yogurt, tea, cheese, chips, but nothing that really called out to my tastebuds. And then I found the Trix.

We all remember Trix, right? That sugary cereal that pretended it was made with real fruit and vitamins so our parents would buy it. Well, your parents, maybe. I grew up on Kix, Kashi, and Raisin Bran. I vaguely remember having Coco Pebbles every once in a while. If I ever got my hands on Corn Pops as I child I was in freaking heaven. It was, as my father is so fond of saying, "like watching a heroin addict get their first fix." I still think Kix and Raisin Bran are pretty good but I hate Kashi. Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaate it. And my mom spent my entire childhood trying to convince me it tasted good. Bleck.

I don't actually eat a lot of sugary cereal as a grown up, despite having been denied it as a little kid. When I do eat cereal it's either Special K or regular Cheerios--not the honey nut kind. Every once in a while when I'm dying for a fix I'll get a few of those single serve cups of Frosted Flakes and Corn Pops. Usually I stash them in my room or in an out of the way corner of the pantry where my diabetic step-father won't see them and get all grumpy because he can't have any.

Lately though Richard, that's the diabetic step-father I mentioned, has been picking up those mini boxes of various cereals. Usually it's things like Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Honey Nut Cheerios and when I get bored with the Special K or the regular Cheerios I'll have one of those for a change of pace. Even though Cinnamon Toast Crunch does leave a nasty coating on your tongue :P I spotted the Trix sitting next to the other cereals and figured what the hell. I've never had Trix before, or if I did I couldn't remember what it tasted like. So I opened the two little boxes and poured them into an over sized coffee mug.

Whoa, dude, I thought, colors! They were some kind of promotional berry swirl Trix. Aqua blue swirled with a mellow purple and a highlighter yellow mingled with neon orange. It looked a bit like the 80's had thrown up in my cereal bowl. But more noticeable than the layers of vivid colors dancing against the stark whiteness of my cappuccino mug, was the instantly recognizable smell the moment I opened the package. It smelled like fruit snacks. Exactly like fruit snacks.

I was starting to wonder how this thing was going to taste, but I added milk anyway, figuring I might as well go ahead and find out. To be honest I just kinda stared at it for a while. The colors were so psychedelic I couldn't help wondering if someone could make an art project out of this cereal. Someone probably could.

I took a bite, convinced I was going to have a multi-colored bowel movement in the morning. Thankfully, it didn't taste nearly as much like fruit snacks as it smelled. I think the milk helped damp down the overly artificial fruit taste. Overall, I can't say that I enjoyed the taste of Trix, but it wasn't awful either. At least it didn't taste like a bowl of fruit snacks. That would have been really weird.

In conclusion I can only say that Trix was made to appeal to one specific group of people. Trust me when I tell you that it isn't kids.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Disney binge! Part 3

Ok, so in case you haven't figured it out by now, Scott and Eden basically looked for any excuse to go to Disneyland the entire time they were here. The last day I spent at Disneyland was with Scott, Eden, and Pat. Denise was invited as well but she decided that she couldn't afford the admission. Maybe the next time around.

So the four of us drove down to Disneyland some time in the morning-ish and the first thing Scott said we had to do was go see Captain EO. For those of you who have absolutely no idea what the hell I'm talking about, I refer you to wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Captain_EO

We stopped at the Blue Ribbon Bakery so I could get a Mickey Mouse cookie and a small hot chocolate as I was not prepared to sit through a Michael Jackson Sci-Fi on an empty stomach. After a quick breakfast we walked over to Tomorrowland, put on our 3D glasses, and waited for the show to start.

We snagged a pair for Timmy too.

There was much larking about as we waited in line. Especially from Scott.


So Scott felt he should give me some sort of idea of what to expect before we went into the theatre. Needless to say, his summary didn't help much.

"Ok, so Michael Jackson is the captain of this space ship, right?"


"And he lands on this alien planet where he fights the Borg with the power of dance!"

"Riiiight. Is Q involved in this in any way?"

"Sadly, no. But you know who is involved?"


"George Lucas and Francis Ford Coppola!"

"Wait, what?"

That's right. Captain EO was written and directed by George Lucas and Francis Ford Coppola. And this was when George Lucas was still a proud, prestigious, relatively young writer/director with the world at his fingertips. This was before George Lucas knew the shame of the Star Wars prequels for God's sake!

"This show is gonna make me laugh like a maniac isn't it?"

"Oh goodness, yes."

Dear readers, I...I have no words. I was in hysterics from the moment Captain EO made his first appearance on screen. There is nothing, nothing, that can describe the uncontrollable laughter that came over me as Michael Jackson, excuse me, "Captain EO", the most effeminate starship captain in the galaxy, ascended from below deck in the heat of epic space battle to proclaim in the most breathy, girly voice I have ever heard out of a man, "We're goin' in!"


Nothing, not even Mr. Lincoln, will ever equal the amount of hilarity I experienced at Captain EO. Nothing.

Several rides later we decided it was time for lunch. Scott and Eden took us to the all you can eat barbecue place in Frontier Land. It was actually pretty awesome. I'd eat there again, and this is coming from someone who's not all that fond of barbecue.

After lunch we introduced Pat to our new friend Señor Tortuga, who lives in the pond across from Thunder Mountain with the mechanical fish.

Un tortuga?

We coaxed him on land and fed him some of our leftover cornbread.

Señor Tortuga was much obliged.

We wandered into the sword shop in Fantasy Land and spotted this guy hanging above a display case. I know he's supposed to be a candle holder, but all we could think of when we saw him was, "Two udon noodle! Order up!"

You guys want fortune cookie with that?

Later in the day we walked over to California Adventure where Scott and Pat went on Grizzly Bear Rapids. Twice. Pat, predictably, got soaked while Scott remained mostly dry. Scott's kind of a bastard like that. Eden and I waited for them outside as the sun was going down and we didn't want be in wet clothes for the rest of the day.

We also went on the ferris wheel where we invented a new song to the tune of Ghost Riders in the Sky! Our version is Hans Grueber Falling from the Sky....scraper. Personally, I like our version better.

As night fell we went back over to Disneyland to see the fireworks. After that, Scott took us over to Pixie Hollow, where Tinkerbell and her friends hang out to promote the new pixie franchise or whatever it is. Scott just told us we had to wait there for fifteen minutes. So we did. During that time a police helicopter was circling overhead with its search light on and we wondered if the Disneyland PA system was going to suddenly come on and say, "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, due to unforseen circumstances, Disneyland will be closing early this evening. Right.....now. Please calmly make your way to the nearest exit and have a magical day!"

That didn't actually happen, but the helicopter did swing kinda close to the Matterhorn at one point and Scott and Pat kept making references to Running Man.

Then out of the blue Pixie Hollow suddenly lit up and a choreographed display of lights and water danced to Irish inspired music. It was neat!

We left the park shortly after midnight and piled into Pat's car to go home. Pat's car has heated seats! My butt was warm all the way home ^.^

Monday, June 7, 2010

Time for bed. Nini.

Gah! I was out helping my mom today and forgot to write up the third installment of Disney Binge. So tonight you get a filler post about things that don't matter. Yay!

Lesse...I did yoga tonight, which I've been neglecting as of late. I'm gonna start doing at least one or two sun salutations every morning when I wake up. That way I'll be more motivated to move for the rest of the day. I will also probably start walking the route that Skeeve and I used to take up by Pt. Fermin Park for our weekly walkies. It's much cooler (and prettier) on that side of town. Anyone care to join me?

I also discovered this awesome web series. Note: naughty puppets using naughty language. Not for kiddies.

And now it's time for bed. I'll write a proper post tomorrow. Promise.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Disney binge! Part 2

Dude, I wish I could recall specific events from the next few days but everything is just a blur of awesome.

The last week I spent with Scott and Eden was probably the closest thing I have had to summer vacation in years. At least, it's definitely the closest thing I'm going to get to summer vacation this year. The next few days ended in me going to bed around one in the morning, waking up around 10:00 am, and getting a call from Scott and Eden.

"Hey, we're going to Disneyland. You in?"

"Right on."

Roll out of bed, throw on some clothes, smear on some sunscreen, grab my sunglasses and about an hour later Scott and Eden were there with a Robeks smoothie waiting for me to take the edge off the Disneyland hangover from the night before. *sniff* I love you guys.

I also love Robeks. God damn, I love Robeks.

The rest of the day and evening was spent roaming around Disneyland doing random things and being generally silly.

We went to the Frontierland petting zoo and saw the baby goats! I think these two were trying to infiltrate the pen where Disneyland keeps "The Happiest Turkeys on Earth". More on that in a minute.


Please ignore the weird discoloration in the bottom part of the next photo. That's a blog post for another day.

This baby goat looked like a cow!

So you know how the president pardons a turkey every year for Thanksgiving? Ever wonder what happens to those turkeys? No? Well I'll tell you anyway. They go to Disneyland. Where they eat themselves to death. At least that's what the lady who worked there told us. Scott asked a castmember about the turkeys since we were all kind of wondering just how many there were if the president pardoned a new one every year. Do they rotate the turkeys on display? Do the turkeys stay at Disneyland for a year and then go live on a farm somewhere when the next presidential turkey comes in? Apparently Disneyland doesn't really have to worry about such things because the stupid birds usually eat themselves to death within a year or two of their arrival. Um...well...at least they die happy?

I do remember that on one of our many trips to Disneyland over the next few days Eden scraped her knee getting off the Thunder Mountain ride. So we went over to first aid so Eden could get a band-aid and some disinfectant. Scott and I waited in the waiting room while Eden went in the back with one of the nurses and filled out an incident report. Yes, the nurses are required to fill out an incident report with you. Disneyland is thorough. I remember this one time (I think it may have been the first time Scott visited) I got a splinter from running my hand over the railing on the Snow White bridge and we went to first aid so I could get a pair of tweezers to pry it out. The nice nurse gave me a pair of disposable metal tweezers and some disinfectant and asked me for my name, address, phone number, and where the accident took place as I poked around with the tweezers and managed to extricate the offending splinter from my hand. First aid will also give you ibuprofen and aspirin if you ask. All you have to do is sign for it. Disneyland is awesome.

Anyway, as Scott and I waited while Eden tended to her knee we noticed this, uh...disturbing picture hanging above our heads.

Does anyone want to tell me why Pluto is being crucified? Anyone? And for that matter, why does Minnie look so happy about it???

Let's see...what else did we do that wasn't quite so disturbing? Oh, we stared at one of Disneyland's prominent new phallic symbols.

Ok, maybe not less disturbing. But the interesting thing about this phallic symbol is that it's also a yonic symbol! Note the flower at the base of the fountain.

We also learned that the new Pixar movie Toy Story 3 has a hedgehog! Timmy was very excited so now of course we have to see it as soon as it comes out.

He even has lederhosen! Lederhosen!

As delightfully surprised as we were to discover Mr. Pricklepants, he was not the biggest surprise of our week long Disney spree. Oh no. That honor, my friends, is reserved for the tram. Which now has doors. Probably in response to this incident I blogged about back in May of 2009: http://theblueselkie.blogspot.com/2009/05/oopsies.html

God, that looks weird.

Next time: Tortugas, Pixies, and Captain EO

Friday, June 4, 2010

Disney binge!

Ok, so remember these guys?

A little over two years ago these guys got married and moved to Canada. Well, Eden moved to Canada. I suppose Scott just went home. Two years and a whole bunch of paperwork later, Eden finally received her permanent residency card--yay! So to celebrate the first step in Eden's quest to become a Canadian citizen, she and Scott decided to take a month long vacation to California. Honestly, I think the two of them were suffering from Disney withdrawl. The reason Scott and Eden waited so long to come visit was that Eden literally couldn't leave the country unless she wanted to forfeit the whole permanent residency thing. Now that Eden has what is essentially her green card she's allowed to leave Canada and visit whenever she wants--yay!

The only unfortunate thing about their visit, or "not yay" to use the technical term, was that they arrived the week before my finals. This of course meant that I had limited time with them for two of the three weeks they were here. But oddly enough it all sort of seemed to work out. Scott and Eden spent the first week and a half more or less visiting family and hanging out with Denise and Pat. In between my finals and studying we'd go grab ice cream or coffee and hang out for maybe one or two hours. By the time my finals were finally over Scott and Eden had fulfilled their familial obligations and were prepared to kidnap me for the duration of their vacation.

After my last final on Wednesday, I needed some relief. Badly. So obviously the first thing we did was go to Disneyland. My final was over at 10:00 am and Scott and Eden picked me up from my house around 11:00. After a quick stop at Robeks for a revitalizing smoothie, we were on our way.

Once there we puttered around Main Street for a bit. Scott insisted that I go see Great Moments With Mr. Lincoln, which I had never seen, so I did. Now let's get one thing straight. I have a great amount of respect for Mr. Lincoln. He was unpopular in many political circles and served as president during a very troubling time in American history. His writings and speeches were always short and to the point but never lacking in eloquence. All in all, he was a very thoughtful man who did his best to hold the nation together through four years of civil war.

That being said, it was all I could do to keep from shouting "BANG!" just as the curtain closed. I think my brain was trying to decide between that and "Mr. Lincoln! Look out behiiiind youuuu!" In hindsight, it's probably a good thing that I was too busy controlling my laughter to say anything. My ass would have been banned from Disneyland so fast...

After surviving that wicked temptation we poked around the art gallery and Timmy was delighted to find Disneyland models that were just his size! Well, almost.

R2, light speed to Endor!

Does this thing come with a swimming pool?

Then we had lunch at the new Chinese restaurant over at California Adventure and it was awesomesauce. Scott told me that the entire Disneyland resort had recently hired a new head chef, at least according to some Food Network special he happened to catch, and believe me it shows. The quality of the food has improved all over the park and they've even introduced new goodies like the Matterhorn Macaroon *drool*.

We went on Grizzly Bear Rapids and miraculously didn't get soaked, though Scott swears it was by his sheer force of will. You can steer the raft to some degree if you know what you're doing and have the cooperation of the person sitting next to you. Scott's hat flew off during the ride and I managed to grab it before it went into the water, so Scott thanked me by not maneuvering me head first down the waterfall. As a result, I got wet but not drenched, Scott got splashed, and Eden got freaking soaked. At least the sun was still up.

Before we left California Adventure I made sure Scott and Eden went on the new Toy Story ride. My score on that one is improving! :D

After that we skipped around Disneyland for the rest of the evening. They closed early that night (I think 9 o'clock) so afterwards we went to Carrows for dinner. Scott and Eden dropped me off back home sometime around midnight and what followed the next day...and the next day...and the next day was the greatest Disney binge ever recorded by man.

But I'll save that story for tomorrow.

Oh, and in case any of you were wondering what my final grades were this semester...straight A's, bitches! WOO!

We're baaaaaaaaack.


Where am I?

What day is it?

All I remember is this bright light coming towards me. And...voices--hundreds of voices! Singing out in all the languages of the world.

"This planet isn't big enough for both of us," they sang. "It's a world of laughter," they taunted, "and a world of tears. It's a world of hopes...and a world of fears. There's only so much we can share. And it's time we're aware...it's a small world after all.

It's a small world after all..."

Damn, that was one hell of a week long Disney binge. Or one creepy alien abduction. One of the two.

Anywho I'm back, whichever one it is, and I have an announcement to make. Now that I am out of school for the summer, I will be making a blog post every day. That's right, every damn day, from now until August 30th. Enjoy it while it lasts, folks cause after that it's back to school and irregular updates.

More about Disney tomorrow!