"But ah'm not afraid of dyin'. Cause I know that when I get to heaven there are gonna be these wonderful trees, and ah'm gonna climb them. But you know what? Instead of leaves and flowers, those trees are gonna have fried eggs, and delicious Virginia ham, and big heaping bowls of biscuits and sausage gravy. And one day, Sammy, you're gonna meet me there, and we're gonna climb those breakfast trees together, and it's gonna be delicious and we're gonna be happy until the end of time."


FWDs from Grandma, Part 1

As fun as it is to see my post threatening to start posting again (from what, last year?) on the blogrolls of my friends, I thought we'd try something different for a while. See, like most modern kids born in The South, I come from a hilariously long line of good ol' fashion Red State stock. Someone, probably some well-meaning, church-going soul decided to teach my paternal grandmother about TEH INTERWEBS. Now, about once a day I get a FWD: FWD: FWD: from Grandma. Some days it's a touching slideshow about friendship, or picture of kittens with inspirational platitudes, but most days it runs along the lines of HALP! OUR PRESIDENT IS A COMMIE NEGRO SOCIALIST LIBERAL AND WE NEED TO PRAY RIL HARD! When the latter happens, I am usually so riled up I fire off a scathing response. In the interest of family peace, like those letters you used to write your crush in junior high, they are never sent. But I do have a blog I'm pretty sure she doesn't know about.
And Away We GO!

On Jul 17, 2009, at 2:35 PM, (GRANDMA REDACTED) wrote:

Going beyond disrespect

The movie "Corpus Christi" is due to be released this June to August. A disgusting film set to appear in America later this year depicts Jesus and his disciples as homosexuals! As a play, this has already been in theatres for a while. It's called "Corpus Christi" which means "The Body of Christ". It's revolting mockery of our Lord. But we can make a difference. That's why I am sending this e-mail to you. If you do send this around, we just might be able to prevent this film from showing in America. Let's stand for what we believe in and stop the mockery of Jesus Christour Savior. Where do we stand as Christians? At the risk of a bit of inconvenience, I'm forwarding this to all I think would appreciate it, too. Please help us prevent such offenses against our Lord. There is no petition to sign, no time limit, or minimum number of people to send this to. It will take you less than 2 minutes! If you are not interested and do not have the 2 minutes it will take to do this, please don't complain when God does not have time for you because He is far busier than we are. Hey, it's worth a shot! Apparently, some regions in Europe have already banned the film. All we need is a lot of prayer and a lot of e-mails.



Wanna slim down for summer? Go to America Takes it Off to learn how.

Dear Nana,
I forwarded this to my good friend, Joe. Joe is an atheist homosexual who once directed, and starred in, the stage version of Corpus Christi. I'm sure your loving words will make him see the error in his ways and turn to the loving arms of Christ and His Followers. And thanks for the heads up, I'll be sure to see it an extra time just for you.
I love all people, including homosexuals, and I don't believe in god. If you have any forwards that are suited to these interests, please keep me in mind.
Oh, and check out this awesome website I found. I think you'll really find it useful!

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Cue Fanfare.

Oh noooooo.

I think I'm about to start posting again. I think it's going to be different this time. In the meantime, I made this tea tonight and oh no.

It is good.

1 Tablespoon Grace Rare Teas Egyptian Chamomile
12 Ounces Hot Water
4 cubes of Granny Smith Apple
4 cubes of red asian pear
2 Teaspoons honey

Brew tea in your usual manner. Drop in some cubes of fruit leftover from fondue dipping, the magic kind that is amazingly firm and not too juicy but without any type of bitterness. I just happened to have some on hand. Add two teaspoons honey your father-in-law made last year that you're trying to use so you can break into the new jar you took home at christmas. Drink hot or with bourbon. Or hot with bourbon. I can't vouch for the latter personally, but if I know bourbon, it will put the kids to bed.

I need a new blog name. I no longer feel a throwaway plot from an obscure and unapologetically terrible but compulsively addictive soap opera, that has since been cancelled, defines me appropriately. Close, mind you.

Suggestions welcome.


An Adventurer is Me?!

Apologies for the previous post of downerness.  I remembered there is one thing I've been doing obsessively as of late, and feel compelled to talk about.  It goes against everything I've stood for in the past, and yet somehow encompasses all that I am.  And it's that kind of dichotomy that really gets my mojo risin'.

It's time I came clean on the MORPG that is near and dear to my heart.

Yes, I have, for years, scoffed at the WoW and Neverwinternights crowd.  And by scoffed I mean openly mocked to their faces.  Repeatedly and without mercy.  Even while dating someone who was instrumental in MELRO, and belonging firmly to the outer circle of persons associated with such nonsense I silently made +12 LOSER jokes to myself about my otherwise dear friends.  For that I should probably apologize.  I have seen the error of my ways.  Sorta.

In the maelstrom of irony here, my only love sprung from my only hate.  In the form of Kingdom of Loathing.  

I blame Chad.  One night we're having drinks and he very casually mentions "this RPG I play."  I immediately began firing up the mocking engine, but as Chad is one of my nearest and dearest and I defer to him in most things cultural I left it idling while he explained.  The finer points:
  • Text-based.  No wacky graphics or crazy sounds.  The only graphics consist of crudely drawn stick figures.  Hilarious crudely drawn stick figures.
  • In-game currency?  MEAT.
  • Character classes: Seal Clubbers, Turtle Tamers, Pastamancers, Saucerors, Disco Bandits, and Accordion Thieves.  
  • Turn-based on the number of adventures you get for the day, augmented by the cocktails and food you consume, but limited by your fullness and inebriety.  
  • More pop culture references than you can believe.
So, graphics-light, content-heavy online activity centered around pop culture, booze, and meat? I had to check it out.  Suddenly, four months later I'm a Level 12 Disco Bandit with Advanced Cocktailcrafting Skills and an Overdeveloped Sense of Self-Preservation.  Opponents fear my moxie and my Disco Dance of Doom.  And it only gets more ridiculous from there.

So here's where it gets strange.  I began this thing because it appealed so strongly to my disgust with gamers.  Some of the adventures blatantly riff on Final Fantasy, WoW, and other popular games I've come to know and hate.  The writing is PRICELESS.  But at the same time I'm suddenly concerned with stats, buffs, in-game events, and potions, hilarious though they may be.  I'm begging my friends to join, we're sending each other items and discussing strategy at work.  I'm burning all my turns trying to LEVEL UP.  Now I find myself out in the world, having real human interactions and dying to get home because it's about to be rollover and I have new adventures and a fresh liver to adventure with.  HOW IS THIS IS MY LIFE?

The piece de resistance, however, is that now the suggestions I join my work buddies in a rousing marathon of WoW no longer sound as patently ludicrous as they once did.  This is deeply disconcerting to me.  I'm still nowhere near wanting to pay to do this to my life, nor take something so seriously as to treat it like a second job, but I have to say I'm starting to get. it.  You might not find me playing a Alchemist Blood Elf Mage just yet, but chances are you won't find me as intolerant of the idea as I once was.  

Somewhere, deep within, my 20 year-old self is screaming.  

Come play!  I need a sauceror on my side.


Dear Jesse,

Don't know when it happened, but I walked out of work last night to a warm breeze and the nostalgia-inducing smell of rotting fish.  Ah, Bradford Pear, why are you so pleasing to the eye yet so offensive to the olfactory?  Also, what's with not actually producing pears? 
It's something I didn't realize I was missing in Smithville.  There I knew it was spring when I could observe the wild hook-up on its morning walk of shame, and, due to impending finals, the days became waaaay longer.  
Now?  All I know is whenever I walk out of my apartment I hear Patrick Stewart's voice (from the "The Compleat Four Seasons" album) saying "Shpring!  Shpring hash cohmm and joyfully the buhrds welcome it with cheehful shohng!"  I'm guessing that's just in my head.  Also the aforementioned smelly trees.

I have been terrible about posting, it's true.  Here's the thing....work is always interesting, but like others we know, I've signed legally-binding documents wherein I'm ordered not to talk about it.   It's not that I have any privileged information (Matt usually alerts me when there's a new product) I'm just not allowed to reprazent.  Go figure.  The rest of my life is something akin to rotting on the couch.  I collapsed there after I got out of school and moved several times and I haven't really gotten up since.  I'm fascinated by television again, which is odd because it's quite possibly at an all-time low, but they play a lot of Anthony Bourdain's shows, Alton Brown's Shows, and Gossip Girl.  In addition, I'm determined to not turn this into an "OMG wedding wedding wedding" blog, but that is, unfortunately, the other thing that is taking up a significant portion of my time.  I have a dress, there is a church.  I'm pretty sure I have the groom picked out.  Let's leave it at that.  

It's becoming apparent I'm entering that phase in my life where future posts, unable to post about work, will involve trying to get, or being pregnant, the wonder that is parenthood that you just won't understand until you have your own, and/or what color poop my amazing child produced today.  I can't bear any of those thoughts and am tempted to just call it a day on the blogging thing (and quite possibly the life right along with it).  Maybe it's just the post-college depression talking.  Maybe it's the idea I've already put myself in the position where I'm responsible for someone else's feelings while my own are such a mess.  Maybe it's just that feeling that I'm back in Knoxville, a block from my very first apartment, and the walls are rapidly closing in.  

On the plus side, I'm not in fucking Bruges.

So I'm not posting lately, mostly because I'm afraid if I make a habit of it, my reader will follow me into this pit of despair.  Also because I might have to face that I'm in a pit of despair.  

I'm going back to bed.


Belated Resolution Time

Goals in the new year include but are not limited to:
  • Simplify and consolidate the online presence (and thusly perhaps, increase said presence through less hassle)
  • Move into fancy new building with workout room (check.)
  • Use workout room in new building 
  • Love going to work
  • Move wedding planning from perpetually on hold column to get off yer ass and do it column (Sept. 27, yo.  Save that date)
  • Spend more time at the cinema/ballet/symphony/opera/bar/ethnic restaurant and thoroughly put all those years of living in the woods and pining for the city behind me
  • Walk places (just as soon as it's not January)
  • Write more letters.  On paper.  And send them to people. 



Pre-Post Mortem