So what an interesting time I had at the bowling thing. It was a charity event for the Seattle Policemens’ Guild, so that was cool. There was a raffle for various donated prizes, from baseball caps to a cool electric guitar. In keeping with my personal streak, my raffle tickets didn’t win a single thing. Though I believe everyone else in my group won something. The last time I bowled was also the last time I did this fundraiser, some two years ago. Two years ago at this time of. . . Read More!
I will, thanks to the class I just took, soon be the proud owner of a Washington State Class 12 Mixologist Permit, able to mix and serve any and all alcoholic beverages. Of course, if they’d just leave me alone to read the booklet, I could have been out of there in a half-hour. But no, there was a video. An hour-and-a-half video. Ugh. Read More!
Dig if you will, a picture: Scott and I leaving the theater last night. We’re in my car. The car starts up just fine, runs fine, but all the way home there’s a weird high-pitched noise coming through the radio, even when I turn the volume down. Sounds like something in the electrical system doing something it’s not supposed to. We get home, and when I open my door the dome light flickers and gets dim, and the automatic doodad that makes the shoulder belt cruise along the door frame. . . Read More!
While at the grocery store, I picked up a little pamphlet from our friends at Kraft. The front boasts, “Counting Carbs? Count on Kraft.” Inside are supposedly “delicious recipes”. The very first page has a compare-and-contrast chart between a “counting carbs” diet and “counting calories” diet. And it’s pretty obvious that Kraft doesn’t really cotton to this whole low-carb thing, even though they’re making products to specifically cater to it. Per Kraft: “Carbohydrate fuels our brain and muscles; 130g a day is the minimum required for brain function (aim for. . . Read More!
I have Photic Sneeze Reflex … just like around 2/5 of the world’s population. This means if I need to sneeze, I can trigger it by looking at a bright light. And sometimes going from somewhere very dark to somewhere very bright can make me sneeze too. Scott does not have PSR. Once again, until I discussed it with him, I thought it was something that everybody did. Crazy! Read More!
So last night Scott and I went to see the magnificent musical that is Starlight Express. My folks absolutely adore this show, and have seen it probably a dozen times in various places (I guess it’s a house show in one of the Vegas casinos). When they saw it was coming to Seattle, they bought us tickets. I’d seen the show once before, back in Days of Olde (1990). It was a very different show back then — this version we just saw is technically The NEW Starlight Express. Which. . . Read More!
Dear Guy Who Lives Across the Hall: Funny thing, I wasn’t aware I was living in some sort of dormitory. I thought this was an apartment building. As such, perhaps it’s not that great an idea to just leave your door hanging wide open while you’re slumped on your futon watching TV. And if you have to have the door open, how about turning that TV volume down? An also, if you have to have the door open, how about cleaning up that fetid pigsty in which you live? And. . . Read More!
I just got back upstairs from moving the laundry from the washer to the dryer, so now it’s an hour of the waiting game. Le sigh. Opening weekend went very well. We had around 45 people in the audience on Saturday, and a stellar ~75 on both Friday and today. It was very weird finishing the matinee performance today and walking out into sunlight. T-minus three more weeks until I can cut off this hair and bleach what’s left — it’s at that unmanageable point where I loathe it fiercely. . . Read More!
All right, now I have the police report in hand. The “febrile old coot” driving the other car (a 1978 Chevy Caprice 4-door, by the way) is certainly old. The guy will turn 85 this year. His excuse for the accident filled me with rage as soon as I read it. The report reads: “Driver #1 said that the lights from oncoming traffic made it difficult for him to see the small scooter.” Now, you’re taking a left turn. You don’t have a left arrow, just a green light. So. . . Read More!
A night at the emergency room On every other day, my esteemed other half gets home somewhere between 5:20 and 5:30 in the evening. Last night, I had to leave for a rehearsal at 5:40 and he still wasn’t home. I was starting to be concerned, but there were plenty of reasons for his lateness — maybe he needed to stop for gas, or he hit the grocery store, or perhaps he got a late start and was stuck in some rush-hour traffic. But being the pessimist I am, and. . . Read More!