Saying yes...

If you need a good laugh...

Go over and read the latest post from Bill Stankus of Just a Moment. I wandered over there last week, he left an intriguing comment at Kathleen's place so I figured I'd see who he was. Well, he's many things, but in his latest post he is very, very funny.

Go take a look. You won't be sorry you did. You may not make it through the entire post in one smooth pass. I had to take time out for the tears to clear.

Snag tackles the history of baking

In honor of the start of the Holiday Bake-Off, Snag regales us with a fascinating glimpse into the history of baking. Never one to disappoint, Snag makes history come to life and jump off the page.

As Snag says:

... baking remains an integral part of our society. It is the tie that binds, that brings us together, black and white, rich and poor, fat and fatter. So put on your baking shoes, grab a sifter, and join the party!

Woo-hoo! Start baking indeed!!!

It's that time of year again!

...as God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly!

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

99.9% Pure

Blue Girl is wanting traffic. She's wanting linky love and is demanding that we all post about our purest comedic experience so that we can send it on over to newcritics. It seems they’re having a comedy blog-a-thon this Nov. 6-11th.

Well, I'm game, she said, so they shot her! Ba-dum-bump!

Anyone who is familiar with newcritics knows that the are indeed critics. They critique everything, but the kitchen sink… or maybe they’ve done that as well and I've just missed it. I get the feeling that their request for the purest comedic experience may mean a show someone has seen or an album that was listened to. Mine does not fit into that category, but I’m going ahead anyhow. Sometimes an experience is what it is and need not be categorized or dissected. I will try to relate my most blissfully pure comedic experience with that in mind. Over-analysis has been known to kill the magic.

As most of you who read this blog know, I went through Chicago’s Second City Conservatory Program. It was a 2 year deal that ended with performing a weekly show on the e.t.c stage. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to perform for a living, but I had always wanted to do the program and I have never, for a moment, regretted it.

One of the main rules of improv is to say, “Yes, and…” to whatever might be given to you. You do not want to control the direction of improv, other than moving it forward. Saying no stops the progression, stops development.You don’t so much as want to drive as you want to ride the wave. If you fight the wave and say no to the direction it is going, you fall off. By saying yes, you acknowledge what has been given to you. By adding *and*, you give something back for someone else to build on. And so it goes.

It is incredibly hard at times to surrender to no control while attempting to move this comedy beast forward.  Improv is a bizarre combo of thinking incredibly fast and yet not letting your thinking brain take over. I have had many moments of bliss while learning and attempting this art, but one by far, stands out as nirvana.

It happened during a regular upper-level class… we were doing two people scenes, given only a location and a clue as to why were there. I was doing my scene with Stephen. (Working with Stephen was like working with a genius puppy.) Our set-up was a blind date and we were on a bus. It was also suggested that I did not want to be on this date. I had to find a way to say yes while initially rejecting the situation.

What happened next was the most mysterious and wonderful 5 minutes of my comedic history. The big improv hand came down, we said yes, and oh baby, did we ride. There was actually very little dialog that passed between us, our scene mostly consisting of noises, gestures, and expressions. I remember very little of the actual scene, I just remember feeling as if something else were at the controls. It progressed without thought, it moved without our directing it and even better, it was FUNNY!! We could hear our classmates howling. We could see our veteran instructor heaving. The class then moved into the silent phase of laughter where you are laughing so hard, you’re not making much sound... and then the tears started. By the time the scene ended, there was not one person who was not beet red and crying with glee, including Stephen and myself.

Our scene was the last for the evening and we all walked out feeling incredibly spent, yet elated. It would be naive to think we had anything to do with how that scene went. We just showed up and tuned into the right station. I have laughed oh so many times since and hope to laugh many times more, but I know I will most likely never laugh or feel like that again. It was a moment of comedic grace that transcended words and it was wonderful.

BG Lights Up My Life!

UPS delivered a package to my door the other day. It was an unexpected package. Even better, it was addressed to ME! Woo-hoo!

It was from Blue Girl.

Blue Girl had been telling me for awhile that she wanted to send me something for my birthday. I kept telling her the thought was appreciated, but she really didn't have to. I put it out of my mind until the intriguing package showed up.

She promised I'd like it. She said I'd laugh. She told me it was ALL FOR ME! MY VERY OWN!!!

WHAT COULD IT BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?!?!?!?@!!!

I ripped it open and as one of my best friends says, "Laugh did I laugh!" Apparently Blue Girl remembered a post I wrote last year bemoaning the fact that I never got something I had wanted for oh, so very long.

Well! I have one now! Woo-hoo!!!
Thanks BG!!

My Brain on Blogs: Anniversary Edition

Update and apology below:

A number of years ago, Grizzled and I decided to leave the city and move to a place that had better parking, a yard, and what seemed to be better schools. What I didn’t realize was that I would be trading interesting conversation and daily stimulation for these things.

My brain ached. My brain was bored. I read, I talked to friends via the phone and email, but I was bored. It wasn’t that I needing ground-breaking conversation every single day, I merely needed to play. No one around me, other than those I lived with, wanted to play. Apparently you only get to choose one P item and I had chosen parking.

Then one fated day while reading my freshly delivered Vanity Fair, I was soaking in the words of James Wolcott when I saw he had a blog! I was kind of familiar with blogs, but was not yet reading any. I thought I’d take a look.

Oh. My. Gawd! I could have James Wolcott’s words almost every day! My brain sang! Blogs are GOOD! MORE! MORE! Apparently Mr. Wolcott was my gateway blog… and while I loved him and life seemed more interesting while reading him, I wondered what else was out there. He soon turned me on to Lance Mannion. I could now read Lance almost every day!!! My brain really sang. Colors seemed brighter, my thoughts felt deeper. Yes, blogs were good.

Through Lance I discovered many other bloggers. I could read even more! I found Blue Girl!!! I commented at her place, she and I commented at other places. We emailed. One day though, Blue Girl did something funny. She asked if I might want to blog with her!  “NO!!!”, I said. NO, NO! Was she nuts?!?! Was she insane!?!? I’ll read blogs, but I’m not going to have one… and I’m certainly not going to join a wonderfully popular one! If there’s anything I know, it’s how to shoot an opportunity in the foot… or look an opportunity horse in the eye and then say, “Meh” or is it bake an opportunity cake, but not eat it…

But… the blogging bug was already in my blood. I could not say no to blogs and exactly one year ago, I started my own. (Even though I said no to Blue Girl, she was still there for me every step of the way.) I said yes to wherever this would take me. I’ve “met” so many wonderfully crazy, creative, nice, smart, and thoughtful people. Yes, I said yes to the ride and I’m so glad I did.

This… this is my brain on blogs. To paraphrase a wise grasshopper, you all own real estate inside the best niche inside my head.

(It looked better in the pdf file, but due to time factors, this one is going to have to do. My brains a little hazy these days anyhow.)

Update and Apology: 

I had tried to get an image or word to represent most everyone who comments over here or whose blogs I regularly read. Yesterday, my youngest lamblet found Shayera's image on the kitchen table, where I had assembled my 1st grade collage. Shayera, I'm sorry!! I may see if I can add it digitally.

We've all been there...

Update- It's fake! The clip is apparently a skit from a comedy show. I was wondering about that yesterday, but didn't see anything in the comments until today. Still, it cracks me up and reminds me of the joys and perils of inappropriate laughter.

We've all had those moments of inappropriate, out of control, laughter. I know as a child, I had some of my worst laughing moments in church and Mom pinching me only made me laugh all the harder. Just when I'd think I had it under control, I'd feel the slight vibration of the pew, would look over and would see my sister trying to keep it in.

There is nothing worse than trying not to laugh when you know you have no control and the situation calls for anything, but laughter.

I ran across this on YouTube this weekend. Oh, do I feel for the man. At least none of my inappropriate laughter jags have been caught on camera.

For Scott

Busy weekend, but I ran across this and thought I'd post it for you, Scott. What ever happened to the red sheets?

Snacktator Revisited

A friend who lives far away was asking me for the original links to the infamous Snacktator. Since I don't have time for an appropriate post this weekend, I am putting Eatie back up along with links to the original 3 Bulls! post and my original Snacktator post.

I hope everyone has a wonderful St. Patrick's Day. I'm not Irish, but corned beef is on the agenda... and maybe a beer... or two. :)

Is that an ironing board or are you just doubly-happy to see me???

Grizzled and I thought we had bad luck with irons. Ours never lasted. Part of this was probably due to the cheesy quality of the irons, but a large part of it was due to our cheesy ironing board. It was not very stable and tended to fall over when you would set the iron down on it. Irons don’t last if they fall on the floor over and over. We weren’t that worried when we were using cheap irons, but we’ve slowly upgraded. Ironing is less of a pain if you have one that really works, if you have one that doesn’t shoot rusty steam onto your white shirts, if you have one that doesn’t snag delicate fabrics. After much deliberation, we went to the bank, took out a home equity loan and purchased a kick-ass Rowenta. I think we’ll be done paying for it around the time the lamblets head off to college.

Now let’s face it, when you have invested a small fortune in a new iron, you really don’t want it crashing to the floor, not to mention this one is REALLY heavy so if it falls on your foot, it will hurt. But who wants to buy an ironing board? I can think of many other things I would rather buy, plus, I’d probably cheap out on it and would buy the same cheesy piece of equipment we already had. In my head, an ironing board should not cost more than $19.99. I did the smart thing, I left it up to Grizzled.

Grizzled, for those of you who don’t know him, is a man who loves tools and gadgets. He’s a man who loves equipment. It doesn’t need to be a manly tool, it can be anything that must perform. If there is performance involved, he is there studying up on features, recommendations and consumer reports. I’m usually throwing myself out the window at this point. Yes, Grizzled was the man for the job. He went in to purchase a new ironing board fresh off of a trip to Home Depot. Drenched in the testosterone haze that only a recent trip to Home Depot can bring, he swaggered into Bed, Bath & Beyond with cocky assurance (I stayed in the car). It was only about 12 minutes later that I saw him come out with an ENORMOUS ironing board. With his eyelids at half-mast, he had the look of a sated man. Apparently he had found what he needed. We barely fit it into the car…

Upon arriving home he gingerly set up the new 85lbs. ironing board, also made by Rowenta. I still haven’t figured out all of the parts on this beast. It is, as I said, enormous. Not only is it enormous, but it’s got multiple levels!!! Like I need to be ironing more than one thing at a time?

Frankly I find ironing one thing to be moooore than enough. This thing has holders, flaps and wings, and flaps on wings. I think it even has a child-safety seat.

It wasn’t until Grizzled had folded it back up and placed it upright against the wall that I realized he had also purchased the most manly of boards… Now I know I have a mind that can go from 0 to bawdy in about 3 seconds, but there is part of this ironing board that just looks rude. I don’t know if this added feature is supposed to elevate the woman’s ironing pleasure or what. What I do know is that it looks like it came from Doc Johnson’s. Maybe this feature was indeed aimed at men. Maybe this board looks more manly… Maybe I shouldn’t have sent Grizzled into the store in a testosterone-drenched haze. Maybe this is a ploy and this design feature is supposed to send subliminal messages to the little lady who might be doing the ironing. Get the iron all steamed up and then be steamed up yourself by the time your manly, man comes home. I don’t know. What I do know is that I can’t look at this thing without laughing and kind of cringing at the same time. Please tell me it’s not just me…