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Category Archives: busy

March 29, 2013

Ceci n’est pas un blogpost.

By lucysfootball

I would love to write a real post here. And tomorrow (fingers crossed) I WILL write a real blog post. However, here is how the last 28 hours have gone:

  • Freshly Pressed puts my post up on the WordPress site.
  • I start getting a kabillion likes, reblogs, comments, and follows. And tweets. And Facebook comments. And emails. And my phone starts going cuh-raaaaay-zee.
  • I have to go out to dinner, because I planned a fantastic dinner with my theater ladies a few weeks ago. (Who might be reading right now because I actually – GULP! – told real-life people about my blog. If so, hi, J., A., and L.!) So I replied to comments right up until I had to run out the door. While grinning like a looney and saying “these things don’t happen to people like me NO THEY DO NOT.”
  • Eating dinner and having a wonderful time and not even checking my phone once in almost two hours even though I wanted to SO BADLY. Because I love my friends and they deserved my undivided attention. And we laughed and laughed so much. It was the best time.
  • Getting to my car and looking at my phone and saying “Oh. Oh, my” because I had a billion* (*possibly an exaggeration) comments to approve, and new followers, and tweets and on and on and blah blah could I BE any more into myself right now? I know, right?
  • Also, SIDE NOTE, I had an email from my brother waiting for me. He recently got an email account. My brother has never sent me an email in his life. It made me laugh SO HARD. It ended with “This short by normal standards wireless telegram took me approx. 22 mins. to generate.” As you can see, we have similar senses of humor.
  • Then I got home and I couldn’t go to bed until I beat my previous best day, stats-wise. Then I did. Then I finally went to bed.
  • When I woke up, I had a billion MORE comments and also I went to bed way too late and I was so so tired and then more and more comments coming in and I did not have time to reply to them so I said, I will reply tonight when I get home! (Oh, hey, new people, here at the Football, I reply to like 99% of comments. I’m weird like that. You took the time to comment; the least I can do is take the time to reply, is my thought.)
  • So all day long, there were more and more and MORE comments. Also I worked all day, as I do. I mean, you can’t just not go to work because you are a very famous blogger, you know.
  • Then I had to go grocery shopping. Look what I bought, sj!

    Starfruit! I have never tried one, but sj's kiddo said it tasted like stars. How could I not buy one?

    Starfruit! I have never tried one, but sj’s kiddo said it tasted like stars. How could I not buy one? I am MADE of stars!

  • THEN I finally got home and had to do things like call my parents (Dad’s response to “Dad, I have to GO, I have a BILLION COMMENTS TO REPLY TO” was “Are they paying you per comment? This is insane. NO ONE DOES THIS”) and eat food items and also pet the cats a little (not a euphemism) and write email to my most beloved ones (listen, one of the worst mistakes people make when they get famous is that they forget the little people. I WILL NOT FALL INTO THAT TRAP! What’s that? I’m not really famous and my people aren’t even little? Shush it, you) and then it was replying-to-comment-time. Oh, the comments. Oh, so many wonderful comments. I can’t even.

However, all that comment-replying means that it’s bedtime now. And with the lack of sleep the last few days, I really need to get to bed tonight. I have to get up somewhat early tomorrow and get an oil change. ALSO not a euphemism. Oh, also, did I mention my cable is out? It is. Out. My cable box is, according to the very technical lady on the phone, “fried.” I need a new one. She said they could come next week sometime. I might have freaked out a little and said, “No. See, Game of Thrones? Sunday? I can’t. I can’t even.” Then I explained if she couldn’t get someone there BEFORE Sunday, I wouldn’t be UPGRADING to HBO, so they would be losing MONEY, and suddenly, a tech was available tomorrow! Huh! Imagine that!

Oh, Jaime. And this is the season we'll get to hear "I dreamed of you," right? I cannot wait. Can. Not. Wait.

Oh, Jaime. And this is the season we’ll get to hear “I dreamed of you,” right? I cannot wait. Can. Not. Wait.

All of this to say: I promise a new blog with actual content soon. I have the next two days (maybe even three) planned out.

Also, hi, new people. I will talk to your faces soon. Tomorrow, even. I am so pleased you’re here. Don’t leave just yet. Things are about to get EXCITING*. (*possibly not true.)

Happy Friday, all. Hope you’re well. Have the best weekend. Oh, it’s Easter weekend, yeah? Find some eggs. Eat some chocolate bunnies. Celebrate all things springy. Love your faces. Be back with a real post soon. Promise.

(Oh, you all know where I got the title, right? If you don’t know from the painting, you know from The Fault in Our Stars. Here’s the painting, just in case. Smooches to you all.)

It's funny because it IS a pipe. But it's NOT a pipe. It's a PAINTING of a pipe. It's always tickled me. Nice job, Magritte!

It’s funny because it IS a pipe. But it’s NOT a pipe. It’s a PAINTING of a pipe. It’s always tickled me. Nice job, Magritte!

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41 comments   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in blogs, busy, writing

March 15, 2013

An adventure at the vet with Dumbcat, Newcat, and ME!

By lucysfootball

So TODAY, we had an adventure called “take two cats to the vet, one of which doesn’t 100% trust you yet because she is new here.”

What do you mean, this isn’t an adventure. I beg to differ, yo. EVERYTHING is an adventure if you look at it the right way.

First, I got out of work EARLY. This is yet another reason my new job (when, may I ask, is it no longer “new job” but just “job”? I still feel like someone’s going to jump out and scream “PUNK’D!” any day now. It has not yet happened, but that doesn’t mean it’s not GOING to happen) is the best thing ever. If you need to leave a little early because you have a thing going on, like you have to go to bed early because you have to get up before the sun even THINKS about getting up to go to New York City to have the best day ever, for example, or if you have to get to the vet and wouldn’t get there in time if you left at your normal time, you can skip your lunch and do that. You totally can!

So I left work and came home. First order of business: Dumbcat needed his nails trimmed or I was afraid the vet would be all a., “YOU ARE A BAD CAT MOMMY!” and b., “Let us do it for you, it’s only $900!” (I may have rounded that up, but it’s expensive, especially since I can do it myself for FREE.)

I like how relaxed this cat is. This is not the case here in the Casa del Futbol.

I like how relaxed this cat is. This is not the case here in the Casa del Futbol.

So in order to trim Dumbcat’s nails, you need three things: 1. a cat nail trimmer; 2. a towel, 3. a lot of patience and a very soothing voice.

Dumbcat doesn’t like his feet touched. Or his body touched. Or to be forcibly restrained. IT STRESSES HIM OUT.

So first you have to pretend you’re just PETTING Dumbcat. Today he was rolling on the floor so I had to get on the floor and pretend to roll as WELL, and then also pet him until he vibrated all over with purrs because MOMY IS ON TEH FLORE WITH MEEE! and then scoop him up and QUICK QUICK wrap him in a towel before he could freak out too much. (NOTE: Don’t use a towel you like or need to use anytime soon. It will be covered in fur when you are done.)

This cat is much too relaxed. Dumbcat mistrusts that.

Once you have him wrapped in a Purrito (patent pending), you can very carefully pull one of his legs out of the towel for nail-clipping.

That’s when he realizes this has all gone very, VERY wrong. And he starts making a noise like a rabbit in a trap. And it is HEARTBREAKING. And he starts struggling and pulling his leg away from you.

If you are quick and efficient, you can get his front paws done in a flash. Well, most of them. Since he’s a polydactyl, he has weird claws in weird places and you have to be sure to get those, too. Like, claws between his toes and claws growing out of the sides of his legs.

UNFORTUNATELY, this time we had a slight mishap in that he ZIGGED when I should have ZAGGED and one of his weird claws pulled off. PULLED RIGHT OFF! (He has one weird claw that is not…a claw. I don’t know how to even explain it. It’s this thick non-pointy claw. What can I say, he’s genetically challenged.) So THEN, there was BLEEDING! So I had to take the Purrito (patent pending, DON’T YOU STEAL THAT FROM ME, IT’S ALL I HAVE GOING FOR ME DAMMIT!) to the kitchen for a paper towel so I could make it stop bleeding, and that Purrito (don’t even think about stealing that, you thieves) was at that point making noises like a teakettle boiling mixed with an angry swarm of bees and also perhaps a robot on the fritz.

Dumbcat (artist's rendition)

Dumbcat (artist’s rendition)

So FINALLY we got that under control and he was doing this thing where he was KICKING and YOWLING and we STILL had the BACK legs to do! Oh, Dumbcat. Just so you know, I was also using my most calming voice throughout. “Dumbcat! Buddy, you are OK. YOU. ARE. OK. You will be fine! We have to clip these claws. THEY ARE OUT OF CONTROL! Look how long these are. They are like SABERS! You will scratch yourself and there will be pain. You don’t want that! STOP BEING BUNNY-LEGS! You cannot escape from this wrapping, my little purrito (PATENT PENDING I SAID!)”

Then we got the back legs done and THEN it was time for STEP TWO IN MY NEFARIOUS PLAN! which was, put Dumbcat in a carrier for the vet.

Now, usually Dumbcat doesn’t care about the carrier but this time I think he was so upset about the purrito (if you’re thinking of stealing that, DON’T YOU EVEN DARE!) and the leg-touching and the accidental bloodiness that he was all out of sorts. Or he was acting. Because the minute I put him in there he got OBNOXIOUS.

Mriew? Meow? MIEUW? MRRROWOOOW? MEOW MEOW?

Mriew? Meow? MIEUW? MRRROWOOOW? MEOW MEOW?

“Meow? Mrrrrrow? MEOW! MEOW! MEEEEEOOOOWWW! Mrrrreiou? Mieuuuuuu? MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW!” said Dumbcat. Repeatedly. The entire time he was in the carrier. So THAT wasn’t annoying at all.

Then I captured Newcat (ok, so capturing really just meant I scooped her up and popped her in a carrier, which she constantly knocked over with her feet and I finally got the giggles about it because we were like a comedy of errors) and put her in a carrier and then sat on the couch breathing heavily for a while because THAT WAS A LOT OF WORK. Being a single mom is no joke, you know.

Then I wrestled both carriers to the car and drove over to the vet’s office. The whole way, Dumbcat said “MEOW MEOW MEOW, mrrrow? Meiuouw? Brrrrrow? MEOW MEOW!” and Newcat once and a while would quietly say, “Meow.” She was very polite.

Then we got to the vet and usually I have a billion hours of waiting-time while I’m there but this time they got me right in! It was very nice of them. First we see the vet tech. The vet tech does the following: weighs the cats (Dumbcat: 12.5 pounds; Newcat, 13 pounds – my cats are…um…not thin), checks to see what shots they need, and takes their temperature. With a thermometer up their bum. This did not upset Newcat, which made me despair for what she’s been through in her lifetime. It DID, however, freak Dumbcat right out and he made that cartoon face that people make when they are mightily surprised by something and their eyes bug out a little. Then he hid his face in my shirt and that always makes my heart hurt.

HEALTHY!

HEALTHY!

The best part of vet visits is when you take Dumbcat out of the carrier. Dumbcat is PRETTY, you guys. Like, I know I’m biased, but there are NORMAL cats, and then there’s my beautiful boy. But it’s always good when I reveal him from the carrier and the tech or the vet says, “OMG LOOK AT HIM!” and then I think that’s how you people with children feel with someone tells you your child is beautiful. Shush, let me have my dreams.

But THIS time, Newcat ALSO got the reaction! I HAVE TWO BEAUTIFUL CATS! How did that happen? Just good genetics, I guess. I’m an EXCELLENT mom.

So then the vet came in and she was a very nice lady who was about my age. Therefore, she was not the hot Irish vet who saw the cats once, and that was momentarily disappointing. She was very nice, though, and ALSO thought the cats were beautiful.

Dumbcat got TWO shots and did not want EITHER of them and hid his face in my shirt MORE. Then she checked out all of his various things and poked and prodded him and soothed my fears that he has these weird lumps that come and go (they are nothing more than cysts, he’s not dying of weird cat-skin-cancer because that’s of course IMMEDIATELY where my mind goes. Because why just do something? GO BIG OR GO HOME. It’s a little bump? NO IT IS CANCER. Are you sad about something terrible that happened? WELL THAT SHIT’S GOING TO LINGER FOR PROBABLY A YEAR IF IT EVER GOES AWAY AT ALL. No room for going halfway, not in Amy-land!) and said he was the healthiest, happiest boy and to keep doing what I’m doing. Aw, I like that.

(THIS IS NOT SAFE FOR WORK! SO MUCH CUSSING! But also wonderful. And totally should be my mantra. Exactly. Fuck it, WHY go halfway?)

Then it was time for Newcat! Newcat had many things that needed checked up on. First: she had surgery back in November for a tumor (benign) and the vet needed to check on that; all was well, except she had one stitch that didn’t dissolve and was poking out so she took that out. Then she checked on why she was limping on her front right leg. (No answer on that one; she said since Newcat didn’t seem to be in any pain, she might just walk like that, or have an old injury. Aw, Newcat! You are all jacked up!) Also, Newcat tried to eat the vet’s hand when she was checking her limp-issue. The vet was very calm and said, “OK, we’re going to just keep doing this, Newcat, so stop being rude, ok?” and Newcat just looked at me with anger and disgust. She’s very attitudinous, Newcat is.

She also CONCURRED with me that Newcat is about 5 years old. I win being able to tell how old cats are by their teeth! I learned a thing at my job at the Humane Society! I HAVE A SPECIALIZED SKILL!

Probably don't want a cat to make this scary face-eating face at you, though. Rule #1 of being a cat-teeth whisperer.

Probably don’t want a cat to make this scary face-eating face at you, though. Rule #1 of being a cat-teeth whisperer.

She said Newcat is very healthy and ALSO very happy and that they are both beautiful and since she has a medical degree I think it’s the truth, right? Right.

They both need to lose a little weight, though, so it’s (shh) diet cat food for the kitties from now on. I’ll get them something tasty. It’s the least I can do. (Also, Dumbcat doesn’t actually eat very much, but Newcat is a HOOVER when it comes to food. My goodness! She eats MUCH food. I think it’s because she was homeless. She isn’t sure if her next meal will actually happen. Aw, Newcat. There will always be food.)

Dumbcat and Newcat would like you to know this is no laughing matter. Except kind of a cat in overalls is HILARIOUS.

Dumbcat and Newcat would like you to know this is no laughing matter. Except kind of a cat in overalls is HILARIOUS.

When I got home my overly-attentive UPS man was here (he totally knows my name and ASKS WHAT IS IN ALL MY PACKAGES, I find that odd, Dad says “Isn’t that NICE, he is so FRIENDLY” but I think it’s none of his business so I tell him false information like “knives SHARP KNIVES”) (FINE, no I don’t) and I got a billion packages (a book, a fan for my desk at work because it’s so hot in there I am DYING, and a gift for someone, so, I guess more like three packages than a million, I’m really terrible at guesstimating) and so wrestled all the packages AND the carriers into the house and then RELEASED THE HOUNDS! (cats) and they RAN up the stairs like they were being chased by all the demons of hell. THEIR MISTREATMENT WAS OVER!

Now Dumbcat is curled up to me snoring so hard he just scared himself awake with the noise of it (and then glared at me like I was the one who woke him up) and Newcat is under the kitchen table snoring as loud as SHE can because they have had a VERY TRYING DAY.

See? This is a lesson in how anything can be an adventure if you really just apply yourself. Or if you’re with me. That latter part might be the key, actually, and I can’t really help you with that part. Just ask yourself – WHAT WOULD LUCY’S FOOTBALL DO? and the answer is usually “turn it into an adventure” or “spill food on her top” and either way, you’ll be riding high, jellybeans. Just don’t get one of those obnoxious bracelets with WWLFD on it because then I’ll shake my head at you in an embarrassed manner.

Won’t be around tomorrow, and maybe not for the next few days – lots to do! Very busy! But will do my best to do what I can. Just imagine me having all the adventures. That’s really the best way to imagine me, anyway, at all times. Happy weekends, all!

34 comments | posted in adventure, busy, Cats, pets

February 18, 2013

I may or may not have Hulked out this weekend.

By lucysfootball

It has been a VERY productive week. And long. But also productive. But LONG. (You can say “that’s what she said” if you want. I won’t even get mad.)

I am currently Walking-Deading and sitting on the couch freezing my butt off. It’s super-cold today. ALL THE WIND. Very chilling. It makes your hands like ice. No fun. NO BUENO.

So, let’s see what has happened.

We cast our next show at the theater. We managed to do it in two nights of auditions and we did it smoothly and quickly and with very little fuss, which is awesome. I ran into someone who was…um…not-so-tightly-wound in the course of the two nights of auditions. I won’t say more than that, because that’s rude. But tonight I totally told the story tonight to someone with MANY facial expressions and MUCH hand-wavery and it was received with much mirth so you can just be sad for a moment that I can’t go into more detail. But you should also respect me for my restraint, because it means I’m CLASSY, yo.

Ha! This is totally me, except maybe not the rawry cat pose.

Ha! This is totally me, except maybe not the rawry cat pose.

Then I did laundry and grocery shopping because life doesn’t just stop because you have all the theater things to do. THEN I had the SECOND weekend of the show. Whew! So busy.

One of the nights, we almost sold out. We had a fundraiser for a local group and therefore 80 people came in, plus our other patrons, so we had a very full house. So when I tried to leave, I could NOT. The lobby was TOO FULL. And no one would move. It was a little like I would imagine hell would be like, and a little like I would imagine a room full of zombies would be like, because my quiet and mostly-polite pleas of “excuse me” were greeted with blank stares and/or being completely ignored. So I totally snuck around the back way and burst through the fire door because I was on the edge of a panic attack. I have trouble in very crowded spaces. I kind of like to know where my exits are? And have a clear path to them? At all times? And if I don’t, I get nervous? I think in a previous life, I was a sniper or something.

But ANYWAY, the fire door had this foam-core stuff on it that we’re using for weatherstripping so I burst through that like the HULK, yo. I told Dad and he was all, “It was like in baseball games when a famous person runs though a wall but really it was paper. That’s what that was like.” I told him I wasn’t sure that happened at baseball games, but he seems to think it did. I don’t know, the last time he watched baseball was when the Expos still existed because they were HIS TEAM, and the interwebs tells me that the Expos stopped existing in 2004. And now baseball is dead to Dad. DEAD TO HIM. (And moved them to Washington? And started calling them the Nationals? What is this hooey? I don’t like that, I remember listening to baseball in the garage with my dad when I was little and he would teach me things about it and I like that memory. I do not like that they moved his team to Merka and changed their name. Are they even the same team anymore, once that happens? I do not think they are.)

I totally had an Expos shirt AND hat as a kid. We were an Expos family. Because we lived near CANADA. Eh?

I totally had an Expos shirt AND hat as a kid. We were an Expos family. Because we lived near CANADA. Eh?

Today I put the foamcore weatherstripping (“weatherstripping” – that needs airquotes, it does nothing to keep the cold air out) back as if I didn’t bust through it like the Hulk. Or I guess She-Hulk, or whatever. No one seemed to notice that I had close to a panic attack and had to escape or start gasping like a fish out of water. Being freaked out because you can’t see or get to an exit and freaking out because of all of the people who won’t move and escaping through a fire door is totally normal, right? OF COURSE IT IS SHUSH YOU.

Hulk SMASH!...right through a fire door because the lobby was too full.

Hulk SMASH!…right through a fire door because the lobby was too full.

The weekend went well; we had good audiences all three days, very few flubs, and everything ran very smoothly. People seemed to really enjoy it, which made me happy. Well, maybe not enjoy – it’s a pretty hard to enjoy piece – but appreciated it. I talked to someone with tears on her cheeks as she left; probably that shouldn’t make me happy, I mean, we made her CRY, but then again, we made someone CRY, you know? That’s success, to me. I’m pleased with that. We evoked an emotion that wasn’t there before. I feel that’s powerful. I feel we did that, and I am proud of that.

THEN, I got to see C. and C.! And we went and had ALL THE MEATS! We went to Dinosaur BBQ and had MANY MEATS! Beef and pork and MORE PORK! And it was fine, it was not the best barbecue, it was not the worst. It was fine. But the company was wonderful and we talked and talked and laughed and talked more and I love them the most. They make me comfortable and so happy.

There were no dinosaurs, but I made C. make a dinosaur noise when I came in, and he totally did. That's love, people.

There were no *actual* dinosaurs, but I asked C. to make a dinosaur noise when I came in, and he totally did. That’s love, people.

And now I am home and it is freezing so I am under many blankets and where the hell is the cat, he is warm.

Here is a story called Skype is an Urban Legend.

So months ago, I attempted to Skype for the first time. (Well, no, I did the chat-part of Skype a while before that, which worked fine.) The first time I attempted Skype, I broke it. FINE, I didn’t break it. It just didn’t work, and froze constantly, and we ended up chatting on the chatty-thing below the picture, which I didn’t even know existed, and I was all, “why the hell does he keep TYPING, how rude is THAT, is he even attempting to make this stupid thing work or NOT” but he was writing and writing to me and probably wondering why the hell I wasn’t responding. My reaction upon discovering there was a chat-function was “ZOMG THERE ARE WORDS HERE!” I’m not proud of that, I’m just relaying facts.

It sure as hell didn't look like this. THIS IS A LIE.

It sure as hell didn’t look like this. THIS IS A LIE.

WELL. The other night, Andreas and I decided since we are meeting in New York City in LESS THAN TWO WEEKS, we should probably really talk with our faces before that happened, because I’m totally an awkward panda and I am not only excited to meet him, I am nervous I will be a spastic weirdo and scare him until he hides behind a hot-dog vendor cart.

AWKWARD PANDA!!!!

AWKWARD PANDA!!!!

So we made a whole Skypey plan and at like 11:30 we both signed onto Skype and he called me and THERE WAS ANDREAS! And listen, Andreas is CLASSY, you guys. He looks like a very classy gentleman. He had a nice sweater and everything. I was totally wearing my backstage clothes which were also my Saturday work clothes and I looked shlumpy and tired. HE, however, looked like a fancy GENTLEMAN, not like he just woke up.

Guess what happened?

I totally broke Skype again.

It didn’t let us talk at ALL.

We tried, and it did that same freezing shit it did to me the first time. We’d say one word, freeze. One word, freeze.

We realized after about two minutes of that that the only solution was to use the chat function but we could still SEE each other, only not TALK. It froze up less, seemingly, when we didn’t SAY anything.

So we typed. While seeing each other’s faces. Well, it was something, but I still think you people that use Skype on the regular are punking me.

I'm onto you, Skype. You are BROKEN.

I’m onto you, Skype. You are BROKEN.

BUT! Andreas got to see Dumbcat in real time, who let me pick him up and show him off, and then sat on the table and sometimes walked around and let me show Andreas his little stub-tail. And I got to see Andreas’ dog! Who made little happy grunty noises of glee! Aw, hi, pup!

AND I TOTALLY GOT TO SEE ANDREAS’ BEAUTIFUL SLEEPING BABY!!!! OMG, don’t even tell anyone, I had tears. Shh. He is BEAUTIFUL. Are there many better things than a sleeping baby? I think not.

Also, even though Skype was an urban legend, I got to type things, and see Andreas laugh at them. That made ME laugh. I like that I totally make Andreas laugh out loud. He ALSO made me laugh out loud. Which he got to see. The difference, however, was that Andreas’ laugh is like this lovely cultured laugh and mine is like this cackle. But I’m cool with that. My cackle is very Amy. When I laugh in the audience of a play, my friends know I’m there when they’re backstage all nervous, and it makes them happy knowing I’m in the audience and I’m enjoying myself. I’ll stick with my cackle.

(Also, remember when I first heard Andreas’ voice and I said he sounded like a movie star? HE TOTALLY DOES. Andreas totally has a movie-star voice, you guys. It’s all rumbly and low and has kind of a British accent, but also kind of something else which I assume is Swedish or Finnish and it is LOVELY. I can’t wait to meet him in person and listen to it in really real life when he’s not freezing up every few seconds.)

Then we made plans for our trip. I don’t know if I should tell you where we’re going or if we should surprise you with our arrival at one of my favorite places in New York. BFF! It is one of the places you and I went. That’s the only clue I will give you right now. FINE, I will give you one more. If anyone knows me (whether in real life or through the blog) you know that whenever I go to a new place, there’s one type of place I always look for, and if it exists, I go to it if I can, and it makes me SO HAPPY. Well, New York has TWO of these places (possibly more, but two that are major and that I’m aware of) and Andreas and I are going to the smaller one because we don’t have time for the bigger one as we have twelve hours, but ONLY twelve hours, and if you only have twelve real-life hours with one of your favorite people on this whole planet, you don’t want to waste even a minute of it.

THAT IS ALL YOU GET RIGHT NOW. sj, you cannot guess, I already told you. Also friends C. and C. already know. Shh.

(NO IT IS NOT A STRIP CLUB. I’m fairly sure New York City has more than two strip clubs.)

Also, Andreas tried to trick me into going to McDonalds or Burger King but I said WE ARE NOT HAVING FAST FOOD IN THE COOLEST CITY IN THE WORLD, ANDREAS! (Fine, he was kidding. He doesn’t want fast food, either.)

Fine, shush, you, I love Big Macs SOMETIMES, but not when I'm in New York City and I could LITERALLY have anything I want. I could have Big Macs HERE.

Fine, shush, you, I love Big Macs SOMETIMES, but not when I’m in New York City and I could LITERALLY have anything I want. I could have Big Macs HERE.

So we have a place we are going to, and we’re going to wait and see what we want to eat when we want to eat it, and then we will EAT ALL THE THINGS, and we are going to walk and walk and walk. And talk. Oh, are we going to talk. I told Andreas just TRY to shut me up. That made him laugh. I think he’s aware I’ll be chatty.

Then we made MORE plans and schemes and then it was 1:30am. And at one point, his little girl woke up and with the freezing and skipping ahead that evil, evil Skype was doing, it made him seem to be there one moment, gone the next, like he’d been abducted by aliens, probably FINNISH aliens, which made me laugh and laugh.

So we’re trying it AGAIN soon and I am crossing my fingers but I’m thinking it won’t work. For some reason, Skype has its hate on for me. WHY DO YOU HATE ME, SKYPE? I just want to live in Jetsons world with videophones. IT IS NOT TOO MUCH TO ASK.

WANT!

WANT!

I told Dad I wanted a Jetsons videophone and he said “THAT IS NOT A THING” and I assured him it WAS a thing and he sighed and said, “I should have made you play outside more as a child.” DAD. NO. Then I wouldn’t be as AWESOME as I am.

So that is the story of Skype. But even though it did not work as intended, it was kind of awesome because I learned the following things:

  • Andreas totally doesn’t think I’m a spastic weirdo and still wants to meet me in LESS THAN TWO WEEKS YAY!
  • I can make people laugh IN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT COUNTRIES and they’re not even just SAYING they’re laughing, they really ARE laughing, I SAW IT WITH MY EYEBALLS
  • Andreas and I totally are comfortable enough with each other to meet in really real life and I won’t be a stammering jackass
  • Well, fine, maybe I will some, but that’s just me, I can’t help it
  • You can’t embarass yourself by spilling fruit punch on your top if you don’t bring fruit punch to the table. A very wise man named Andreas taught me that and he was RIGHT.
  • We have a PLAN for the CITY and it will be AWESOME and we are going to have SO MUCH FUN I CAN’T EVEN and also we are going to take SO MANY PHOTOS AT THE PLACE WHERE WE ARE GOING!
  • Andreas is really one of the best people I know in the whole world (I did not learn that on Skype, I knew that going INTO the Skyping, and also AFTER the Skyping, but it bears mention, because I can’t say it enough.)

This is really long. It’s almost like the old Amy is back. But not really, because now I have to go to bed.

HAPPY HOLIDAY MONDAY TO MERKANS! Today we celebrate presidents. I will be celebrating sleeping in and attempting to do nothing tomorrow. Oh, well, I have some things to do tomorrow. Computer things and writing things and I have to go to the store to meet a friend and buy some things for this top secret thing I am doing and then also relax a little because this is my only real holiday before Memorial Day. That’s a long stretch, seriously, who planned that? POORLY PLANNED SIR OR MADAM!

30 comments | posted in busy, Canada, friends, Internet, The Walking Dead, Theater, travel

February 7, 2013

Penguins and punk rock and cats in casual officewear and I am not sleeping enough.

By lucysfootball

Quick “I am not dead” check in.

I am not dead. But if I don’t get more sleep, I’m going to be dead, so this is going to be the shortest post known to man, seriously.

The show is going beautifully; we have a pay-what-you-will preview tonight, we open tomorrow. Well, if the SNOWPOCALYPSE doesn’t hit. We’re supposed to get like a foot of snow on Friday or something. Dad’s all freaked out. “I AM WORRIED ABOUT THIS SNOW SITUATION!” he bellowed when I called him.

I'm in the 10-14" area. Gulp gulp.

I’m in the 10-14″ area. Gulp gulp.

We will either cancel or not cancel. I don’t know. We’ll see.

I wanted to embed this but apparently I cannot so you have to go the extra mile and click, but it’s worth it, I promise.

The inimitable Elaine posted this to my Facebook wall the other day and I have played it a billion times because I can’t get enough of it.

It is a penguin falling. It’s like ten seconds long. You have to watch it, because if I tell you what happens, it ruins the cute factor. PENGUINS YOU GUYS PENGUINS BEING ADORABLE.

Also, I saw American Idiot the other night.

I was blown away. That is not a spoiler for my review, because by the time you read this, my review will already have been published. (There it is, but it costs you $2, sorry, all.) It was fantastic. It was grungy and raw and loud and edgy and intelligent and so unlike anything I’ve seen locally that I just sat there and alternately grinned or had my mouth agape for an hour and a half. I am not a very good reviewer. If anyone knows I’m the reviewer, they can probably tell the tone of my review by watching my face in the dark as the show progresses. I have no poker face. If I like something, it’s painfully obvious. (And, conversely, if I dislike something? Look out, I have the MADDEST FACE EVER. Or if I’m sad? ALL THE CRYING.)

This was my favorite song. Mostly because it made me cry tears of real teariness right down my face. Sometimes I like to cry, like when something’s very pretty. Sometimes, when it hits when I’m driving home from the theater and I think of a sad thing that didn’t come to mind before that very moment and is heavy in my heart, I do not. Because you know how they tell you not to text and drive? Crying and driving is ALSO not recommended. Because of the vision issues.

Please ignore the stupid popups in this video. I don’t know what the hell.

My beating heart belongs to you/I walked for miles til I found you/I’m here to honor you

(NO, I didn’t know about this song before the musical. See, I don’t listen to whole albums very often. We’ll be talking about this in a future post when I’m not getting 5 hours of sleep a night and walking around like a zombie and making the same typo three times in a row. So I knew SOME of the songs in the musical, but not many. Just the ones that they’d played on the radio, pretty much. I totally just downloaded the whole musical for my phone and am now seeing that iTunes is going to get me in a lot of trouble because it makes it very easy to spend money.)

Now I have to go to bed. I am so tired sometimes I am seeing double. I asked sj if I could dress Dumbcat like me and send him to work for me today. She said I could, but he wouldn’t even put on my shoes, so that was a bust.

Why yes Momee's boss I wuld love to tyep that fore yew but I do note know how to use the glowy type box thank ewe where are my treeetz?

Why yes Momee’s boss I wuld love to tyep that fore yew but I do note know how to use the glowy type box thank ewe where are my treeetz?

Happy happy whatever the hell day it is today and I hope you are all well and good and that you are filled with ribaldry. We all like ribaldry, right? Right-o, we do.

15 comments | posted in animals, busy, music, musicals, Theater, tired

January 31, 2013

State of the state, with added insani-lunacy.

By lucysfootball

Howdy! Here we are at Thursday. Quick checking-in-with-Amy post, how about that? Good, good. It’s like the state of the union address, only much less interesting and much less likely to be torn apart and mocked on Fox News.

So this week is not total lunacy. This week had a couple of things in it, but it’s not too bad. Three days I get to go home after work and put my feet up. (That’s a total exaggeration. I don’t put my feet up. I don’t have anything to put them on. They stay on the floor.) Monday I had a very long day. Here, I will make it into a bulleted list for you. We all like bulleted lists, right?

  • Went to work. Worked for a while. Realized it was snowing all the snow. Hadn’t watched the weather forecast all weekend; was not prepared for all the snow. No winter weather gear; highly inappropriate footwear.
  • Left early for lunch, but did not go to lunch. Instead, brought the car to the garage. The car decided to go from “I am being mildly annoying” to “I AM BROKEN HELP ME I AM BROKEN!” *flailing arms* on Sunday and started bucking wildly whenever I accelerated or braked and the check engine light came on, so THAT’S fun. Especially when it’s slippery out.
  • Went to the garage. I have a total crush on my garage guy. He’s not hot or anything. He’s just nice. And good with cars. And practical. Therefore, I randomly find him attractive. I feel as if he would be the kind of person who would be good at solving all of life’s problems as easily as he solves my car’s problems. He said, “Hey! What’s going on?” when he saw me because he likes me. I like that.
  • He took the car for a test drive after I explained what was up. “It’s bucking? Like a horse? And also the warning lights are coming on for things that aren’t wrong, like the emergency brake? And the check engine light is on? And I think it’s not accelerating correctly, like maybe it’s not shifting, but I don’t know that, because it’s an automatic and not a standard? Is any of this helping at all?” He laughed kindly and said, “I’m going to take it for a drive. Be right back.” I like him. A lot.
  • He came back and said, “It didn’t do any of those things for me. But when I hooked it up to the computer, it says you need a new catalytic converter. That’s $700. Instead, buy good gas and put this gunk in the gas tank for a few weeks, then come back in for your inspection and we’ll talk options.” (No, he didn’t say “gunk.”) “Am I ok to drive it?” I asked, “Um, yes? I guess, it’s not doing anything for me,” he said. So back to the bucky car goes I. Which immediately bucked. Dammit. (Dad says “Yeah, that car’s about to shit the bed. SIGH SIGH daughter. You are hard on cars.” How am I hard on cars? I totally get oil changes in a timely fashion and sometimes get them washed and always get gas and only go above the speed limit MOST of the time, not ALL of the time. I think I am NORMAL with cars.)

    Apparently this is the culprit. And it seems like it has a waffle in it. Yum, waffles.

    Apparently this is the culprit. And it seems like it has a waffle in it. Yum, waffles.

  • Then I went back to work and worked the rest of the day. The roads were terrible, because all the snow and slush and garbage on them. Slippery and disgusting. And, again, not appropriate shoes. Or a hat.
  • THEN I had to go straight to the theater for a theater meeting. So off I went. The highway was so backed up. I don’t know why. I assume everyone was driving slowly, because of the weather? Blergh.
  • At the meeting, we decided not to decide anything. Mostly I repeated the following: “I don’t care, I just want this to be over.” This probably is not the most helpful thing to do at a meeting, but I am…exhausted. I feel like we’ve been talking about the same thing in circles forever. We really haven’t. It’s only been about a month or two. But I feel like it’s been years, and I’m SO TIRED.
  • Then we had the critique for our next show. At this point, I was on overload. I’d been going since 6am. It was now 7pm. SO SO BEYOND TIRED. The play was very good; it made me cry pretty much throughout. Which might have been a function of the play or might have been because when I’m tired, I start leaking tears and sometimes it doesn’t stop until I get some sleep. Or a little of both. Either way, the play is very good, and I’m pleased, because that means friend A. did a great job directing it, and I can tell everyone they should come and see it and not even be lying a little bit, and since I have to watch the show every time it’s performed starting Sunday, I won’t be wanting to throttle myself by Wednesday, which is nice.

    Aw, look, my play, you guys! Awesome, yeah?

    Aw, look, my play, you guys! Awesome, yeah?

  • Then we watched the play, which is kind of long (very good, but not a brief play), and then there was the critique, which was ALSO kind of long, and then after about half an hour of that, I said, “Friend A.! Can I give you my notes at work tomorrow?” and he said yes, so I skedaddled. (Friend A. is apparently much better at long days than I am, as he had the same length day as I did but he was still up and lively. He’s also 7 years younger than I am, so he’s like a BABY. With all that youthful energy. All that youthful early-thirties energy. Remember that? No, me either. Too long ago.)
  • Then I came home. I got home at 11. So, yes, my day was 15 hours long. That is too long. TOO LONG. Then I still had to get ready for bed, so all in all, I got a full 5.5 hours sleep, and I feel like a sticky-eyed zombie-person.

So there was my Monday. Loooong day.

Anyway, here’s the scoop for what’s upcoming:

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, normal days. Work, home, relax a little. One of those days I have to go grocery shopping. Probably Thursday. Keep my fingers crossed the car doesn’t stop working while I’m driving.

Friday night, friend C. comes to town, and we’re going to see Company of Thieves at a local bar (or club, I don’t even know, I just bought the tickets, I haven’t done the research yet) doing an acoustic show, which will be amazing and wonderful. I’m so excited. Then friend C. is spending the night, and I took the day off work on Saturday so I can sleep in and depending on how long she stays, we might even be able to go get some breakfast. I’m hoping waffles. It’s been much too long since waffles happened.

Company of Thieves here we come! So excited!

Company of Thieves here we come! So excited!

Then Saturday is for me, and I think I will spend it doing laundry. Because I am nothing if not a good time.

Sunday is tech day for my show. I get there at 10, I think we’re planning on about a 6-hour day (but they usually run long.) I’m running something in the booth. I’m not sure what. Lights or sound. (Update: friend A. says sound. That’s ok with me. He’s going to be in the booth with me, which I love. He makes me laugh.) I have to make brownies for tech Sunday at some point, too. Crap, I’m glad I remembered that. Um, maybe Saturday sometime? I’ll squeeze that in there?

Then Monday, tech right after work; Tuesday, I go to a theater and review a play; Wednesday, tech; Thursday, pay-what-you-will preview; Friday, opening night; shows Saturday and Sunday; auditions for the next show Monday and Tuesday. That is ten straight days at a theater, 9 at mine, 1 at another. It’s going to be a long haul and I don’t know that there will be blogging. Maybe? But maybe not. So if I go missing for 10 days, I am not dead. I’m just not getting enough sleep and hanging out in the light booth. I’ll check in with Twitter to reassure you of my living-ness, if I get a chance.

Most honestly, I am dealing with some personal issues that have me…kind of…not feeling the most communicative. So it’s not going to be the worst thing in the world to take a break from things, to be honest. I’ve found myself apologizing a lot for my mood to people over the past few days, and apparently cannot be trusted with it. So it might just be best if I shushed for a bit, for all involved. I’ve often said living in my brain is no cakewalk; this is the part of the cakewalk where it’s more of a house of horrors than a cakewalk, kiddos. With those funhouse mirrors that distort everything, and a lot of that looped screaming in the background that makes you all ultra on-edge.

It's one of those "you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave" situtations, unfortunately.

It’s one of those “you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave” situtations, unfortunately.

Sometimes these things happen, jellybeans, it’s the way of the world for those of us with wonky brain chemistry. As The Bloggess in all her wisdom tells us, the crocodiles are always there. Eventually it stops. It’s just not overly fun while it’s here. But you live your life. It’s what you do. Because what’s the alternative, curling up in a ball and crying for a few months? No. That seems wearying, you know? Who has time for that? I mean, you’d have to hydrate a LOT for that magnitude of crying, seriously. I don’t think I have that much fruit punch mix.

So if I’m not bloggy for the next week or ten days or so, I’m HERE, I’m just theatering. Theatrically. Shows don’t just stage-manage themselves, my darling dear ones. It’ll be fine. I have a beeeeeelion archives for you to work your way through. Surely you haven’t read ALL my past posts. (Speaking of which? This here post? #600. SIX! HUNDRED! I know, right? Whoa!) I might have time to write from the theater because there’s free wifi there, but there are also a LOT of cues in this show. So we’ll see what happens. Honestly, I’m going to be lucky to sleep and eat in a timely fashion.

Off I go. It is time to watch the rest of ParaNorman and eat some pudding. As one does. On a Wednesday night. Right? Right. Here I come, pudding. Here I come, the rest of ParaNorman. Wish me luck, interwebs.

It's actually really enjoyable. Zombies and kind of quirky. I like it a lot.

It’s actually really enjoyable. Zombies and kind of quirky. I like it a lot.

16 comments | posted in busy, movies, sad, Theater, tired

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