Huh.

It really is MUCH easier to walk/jog/run when you have music. I guess those three days of agonizing over figuring out how to load my Shuffle (it's teeny!) were worth it.

Who knew?

This picture is right about the same size as my Ipod. NO JOKE.

Days without chocolate: still none since 2008, unless you count one Slimfast shake, which I DO NOT

Weight lost: Still not enough, but hopefully back on the downward slope

Talks to write before tomorrow: 1

Ideas on what to talk about: 0

Procrastination abilities magnified by possession of Kindle and several digital books: +50

My Idol Journey

In which we shall see: a brush with fame, fortune, and reality TV.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Today I got to be famous.

After my monthly stint as chaperone for the BHS drama department to see a performance at a local big-name theatre (scenario one: "It's Charisse! Huuuuuug!!!" "Me too!" etc...- I now know how the cream filling in a Twinkie feels) (scenario two: I didn't know that many students could fall asleep that quickly 10 minutes into a play - hint: this production was NOT a favorite) I stuck around to act as a judge for the school's yearly talent show, "Brighton Idol". Instead of picking random teachers (read: anyone willing to stick around for the evening) they decided that this year they wanted people who actually knew something about talent (not my phrasing, I swear). There was a dancer ("the first Brighton Idol!"), a musician ("he can rip 16 bars at 350" or somesuch), and me, there to represent "actors". I had a distinct feeling it was going to be fun.

To start off, the three hosts took turns introducing the judges, and after presenting actual credentials tossed in some completely ridiculous freebies - for example, I will evidently be the next Celebrity Guest Judge on American Idol, and I hold three blackbelts in Taekwondo. Good times. Then each performer did their thing, and we judges scored them (anonymously) and then gave them brief feedback. Overall it was an excellent show - there really was some fabulous talent, and the scripts the hosts were working off of were quite clever and entertaining. At one point I used a staged "bit" - I had arranged with another student that he would call me just as I began my comments. He did, and when the phone rang you could hear the gasps in the auditorium, particularly when I interrupted proceedings to take the call. "Hi," says I, "right, sure, he's right here, uh-huh, I'll tell him" - at which point I went back to the mike and told the performer that "Randy Jackson (a real judge for American Idol) is on the phone, and he wanted to say 'You got it dawg', and 'you're destined for fame'. That's all!" It got a good laugh, and the student thought it was pretty cool.

At intermission, though, two sweet little girls (freshmen?) came up to the table and breathlessly asked, "Do you really know Randy Jackson?!?" I (laughed in my mind and) gently informed them that it had been a joke. They evidently didn't get that "joke" meant "not real" because they then proceeded to assure me that they were each my biggest fan. Apparently, between my intro and the Randy Jackson "call" they became convinced that I actually WAS a judge on American Idol. That, or they were faaaar better actors than I would have given them credit for, and were playing a joke on their own. Heh.

The show went really well, the judges managed to keep their remarks to a minimum (even with my occasional "bits") and fun was had by all.

Maybe I should try reality TV as my next career move - I'm pretty sure I could get the student population of Brighton High School to vote for me!


Watch out for falling turtles (and guitar picks, and ratings),

Cyd (BHS Guest Judge)

Bonus Content #5.2 (No Reason Once Again)

Oy, vey.

Talk About Your Stuffed Shirt...

So it looks like there's a theme emerging...

Today at work I started BUILDING a dummy - I traced a willing volunteer (AL was pretty excited when I asked if I could "use his body"), shaped, cut, sewed, and will be stuffing with cotton and bean/sand bags, attaching fake hands, and dressing up what is essentially a "body pillow". LITERALLY. My boss told me I got the job because I was "good with dummies". I managed to keep from asking if the comment also applied to my non-work life. (SNAP!) People, the jokes just write themselves here.

Also, considering my range of experience lately, I'm thinking about writing a do-it-yourself book: "Dummies for Dummies".


(Oh, please. You saw that one coming a mile away.)

Bon Anniversaire

In which we shall see: birthday rant, birthday report, birthday procedures revisited, yet another way-too-young guy, and birthday cake. (There should ALWAYS be cake.)

* * * * * * * * * * *

I'd been meaning to post more often in the new year, just to keep in practice or something, and then (SURPRISE!) life happened. I have been regularly thinking about blogging in the past week, but it's usually just a list of some kind and the thought runs away just about as quickly as it comes.

I had a birthday this week - honestly, I'm not sure I understand the whole policy of giving presents to someone who's a year older. It's not like they had all that much to do with the birthday in the first place! Picture this: on any given person's birthday, instead of getting presents they GIVE them to all the friends and family that have helped them get through the past year (with an extra-nice gift for their mother, y'know, as a bonus). It's better to give than receive, right? Plus, people would be making friends and calling and sending notes and listening and "being there" for each other SO MUCH MORE, knowing that they could potentially receive a "birthday" present EVERY DAY of the year if they managed to make themselves indispensible to and loved by enough people! Before too long, we'd all even stop thinking about the presents (probably) and just focus on a life filled with wonderful friends.

I really like this idea, because at this point in my life birthdays are actually a wee bit depressing. I know this fabulous lady who once said that the way to counter birthday angst is to remember there are only two options - you're either dead, or you're having another birthday. (What she lacked in poetry she made up with puissance and personality.) It's a good point, really. May as well enjoy it, right? I enjoyed my birthday by not posting a bitter or grumpy blog entry (even though I DID figure out a major reason I'm not married - a topic that frequently comes up on birthdays [see above RE: depressing] and will probably show up later in a hopefully somewhat amusing format) and sitting through a very long dress rehearsal while nursing my (stupid) pinched nerve in my back that often makes me move like I'm 80 instead of my actual age. (Ha.)

In other news: The show is open and running well (COME SEE IT, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD), the pinched nerve is either settling down or I'm gaining a higher tolerance for pain, I'm speculating on some interesting possibilities of things to work on in the next couple of years that aren't necessarily what I want to do (LONDON) but could be more immediately important (future post, perhaps), and a darling teenage boy reassured me yesterday that someday I'd find the right guy and I wasn't really all that old anyway. Also, look for a present FROM me on my birthday next year. (Feel free to start sucking up now.)

Time to go find that one last piece of angel-food birthday cake that's calling my name! And then get to the gym tomorrow to break in my new birthday-present running shoes (or, hobbling shoes, depending on the back...)

More soon! Possibly in list format!


Watch out for falling turtles,

Cyd


Days without chocolate: approx. 14
Performances remaining: 8
Weight lost: not enough
Weight to lose: not quite double what I've lost
Dates I'll go on this year: I'm setting up a pool - what's your bet?

Calling All Quirks

I was tagged a few days ago, and ever since I've been trying to come up with a list of my quirks. I know, I can hear you all saying "Haven't you run out of paper for that list yet?!?" but seriously, it's kinda hard to come up with all the weird stuff you do. It's all logical from your perspective! Still, I have managed to come up with a few things that others might consider, er, unusual. I've tried to exclude anything that could be simply explained as OCD (or that were too embarrassing to list). So, the quirkiness that is ME:

1. I won't eat blue food. I just can't handle blueberries (and I've tried, as my sister lives on a blueberry farm), and anything "blue raspberry" is out of the question. I avoid all blue candies - the only exception is blue M&M's, and those I eat solely for the sake of the chocolate inside.

2. I'm a HUGE ice cream snob. There is a level of ice-cream quality below which I will NOT descend - I used to say that I won't eat any ice cream that comes in a square box, but since Blue Bunny started selling a few flavors in smaller actual boxes I've had to re-vamp that policy. My brother-in-law makes a point of buying generic (and usually radioactive - some of those vanilla ice creams actually glow blue, see above) frozen "desserts" and gushing about eating his "box" ice cream. He's welcome to it - I have a standing date with my two favorite guys: Ben & Jerry.

3. I have a very hard time sleeping with my ears uncovered. I'm not a total burrower - my face is still out in the open, but I have to wrap the sheet or blanket under my chin and up around either exposed ear before I can fall asleep.

4. I have never been able to fall asleep during a movie or TV show. It doesn't matter how many times I've seen the movie - I have to see how it ends before I can nod off. It was always a little strange to be the only person awake at 2 in the morning at a slumber party, watching the credits roll and listening to my friends snore. (Sorry! But you DID.) The only exception is the movie Shadowlands - I've tried to watch it twice, and fallen asleep both times. Now THAT was weird.

5. Thanks to my mom (who credits her mom) I have a very difficult time leaving the house without hair and makeup done, and earrings on. However, I almost NEVER put on lipstick before leaving - lipstick only happens in the car immediately after arriving at my destination, or once inside wherever I'm going. (Oh, and I can never just "put on lipstick" - I generally blend two shades of lipliner, add two or more shades of color or tint, and finish with gloss.)

6. I don't like painting my fingernails, and very very rarely do it myself - and I'll get maybe 2 manicures every three years (usually as someone else's idea). However, I love having my toenails painted and generally keep them polished all year round - I'd do a pedicure every week if I could.

7. I am one of the few people I know who actually enjoys speaking in public, teaching large groups, or otherwise being in front of an audience. Ironically, I am almost never asked to speak in church. (TOO much enthusiasm, maybe?)

8. When I have a crush on someone I have a tendency to tell that someone all about it. I'm really not sure why I do it, but it always seems like a good idea at the time... Oh, and I'm not talking about middle school. I'm talking about 4 or 5 guys in the last 5 years.

If you can think of any other quirks you've noticed about me, feel free to list them in the comments - I'd be very interested to hear what other people notice! Also, I'm taking recommendations for good therapists... just in case.

Oh, and I tag: Kari, Paul, & Monika!

Prospective Department of Homeland Security

"Long ago I came to the conclusion that all married people are with the CIA. Once they were truthful women and men; friends I understood and knew intimately; people like me, whose every up and down was acknowledged and evaluated in the company of confidants. Then came the wedding. That old saying is nonsense: a wedding never made an honest woman or man out of anyone. During the ceremony brides and grooms take a vow of secrecy. Afterward, they could tell you what makes their marriage tick; they could explain how they manage day to day without throttling one another; whether they have regrets; and why, in fact, the institution of marriage is desirable in the first place. But then they'd have to kill you."

- Tolstoy Lied: A Love Story by Rachel Kaddish