Ring of Honor: How Could I Not Write An Entire Novel?

Alright. Okay. Deep breath...okay. Wait...okay, I think I'm ready to tell you about what I did last night. One more deep breath. Are you ready? Seriously. I hope you're ready to read this blog for the next 4 hours because I just didn't know when to stop on this one. Get ready.

Finally. Finally. I finally got it together and went and saw some live wrestling. After about three years of faithful Friday Night Smackdown watching, and being a huge fan of Larry Sweeney for the last four years, it feels unbelievable and very lazy to me that I've never been to a live show. I thrive on live shit. I feel that I don't fully know a band until I see them live. And as much as I don't give an eff about sports, there's absolutely nothing like being at a live baseball game - specifically at Wrigley Field. So why hadn't I seen live wrestling until now? Maybe I just wasn't ready. Maybe I was unprepared for the greatness. Maybe I was waiting for just the right moment...

Well, that moment came last night, Saturday, January 31st, 2009, in Chicago Ridge, Illinois. Ring of Honor brought it. It, of course, being a lot of muscle, a lot of tight pants/tights, blood, sweat, tans, bad haircuts, ridiculousness, hilarity, and a strange kind of beauty that I never thought I'd find in, of all things, wrestling. I won't get in to the details of what happened in each individual match - somebody has already taken care of that here. Instead, I'll tell you about what I found lovely and hilarious. Also, I forgot my camera again, so I'm just going to places pictures of Larry sporadically throughout this blog. Dudes, it's my blog. I do what I want. Eat it.

First of all, I have to admit, I was kind of nervous. This was a totally new experience for me. Here I am, a big Bando Music Nerd, going to see live wrestling for the first time ever. I had so many questions. How early should we get there? What does one wear to this sort of event? What does one even call this? I had a lengthy discussion with BFF Sarah about how I should not call it a "performance" or "concert," and how the breaks were probably not called "orchestral intermissions," and that maybe I should not sit and applaud politely after the "performers concluded the night's entertainment." And I probably shouldn't watch through one of those monocle things. This was no orchestra concert. I had a lot to learn.

Just as an aside, here is Larry Sweeney's trading card. Just so you know what we're dealing with here.



Back to last night. I went with my brother Emil and his girlfriend Mladenka. As it turns out, Mladenka is a huge wrestling fan. She told me about how she and her cousin, when they first came to the U.S., would sit and watch wrestling and eat chips and bananas (10 a day for some reason) and not do anything else, ever. Now that's dedication. Despite her vast experience, none of us really knew what to expect; we figured we'd sit back and absorb it all and just let the crowd carry us along.

The first match started and my mouth was immediately on the ground. This shit was crazy. Grown ass men, dressed up in little outfits and greasy hair, throwing each other around like rag dolls...the intensity was enormous. As Emil said later in the night, it was as if there was nothing in the entire world that made these guys as angry as this individual match. This match meant the world to them. There was no greater anger that existed anywhere in the world than the anger between these two men. And next week, when they're fighting somebody different, that match will mean the world, and that anger will grow, and everything will just be greater and more magnificent. Fantastic.

We spent the first two lineups laughing hysterically and cheering and "OH!-ing" along with everybody. A couple of matches in though, the initial hilarity faded away and we grew quieter and watched, in awe, what I can honestly call the amazing talent and artfulness of these wrestlers. No, I'm serious. I sat back in my chair, shaking my head, as blood dripped down these men's faces and marveled in the wonder that is professional wrestling. I leaned over to Emil and Mladenka and referred to it all as an art. How could I have missed out on this for as long as I have? I now know that there is no sound in the world like the sound of a man getting hit with a metal chair. Not one.

The dedication in this sport is insane. Dedication to the physicality, the character, the dirty hair...it's all or nothing with these guys. There was this one wrestler called Grizzly Redwood. I feel like I don't even have to say anything else about him; the name says it all. But I'll go on anyhow. This guy's beard was easily 5 inches long, or wide, or deep. I don't know what you'd call it. It was giant. The best part about it though was that he was sort of tiny, which may have made his beard look larger. He was put up against this guy who looked like a giant next to him, and he won! I love it when the little guy wins. Awesome. Then there was the match between the foreigners. There was an English guy named Nigel McGuiness who had the Eurotrash look down pretty well, and there was El Generico, whose theme song was "Olé!" and whose persona was a stereotypical Mexican wrestler - mask and all. This guy was definitely one of my favorites, especially since I love love love this other wrestler, Rey Mysterio, who I watch on Friday Night Smackdown, and the mask slightly reminded me of him. Why is it so weirdly hot when a guy is so close to my own height? Anyhow, the Foreigner Battle was pretty fantastic. I think that, deep down, some people in the crowd didn't want either of these guys to win. They wanted America to win, man! USA! USA! USA!

The audience was hilarious. There had to be over 800 people in that field house. That's right, it was in a field house. These people knew all the wrestlers and loved to chant, antagonize, provoke, and throw streamers. Think The Simpsons crowd scenes. You know how they sort of turn into an angry mob in a split second and join in on whatever chant is happening at that moment, no matter what it is? Yeah, that was the field house last night. The guys behind us (at least one of whom went to high school with Emil and I, interestingly enough) were screaming for basically the entire night, taunting and cheering and making fun of the wrestlers who appeared in the movie The Wrestler (i.e. "Where's your Golden Globe?" "Can you introduce me to Marisa Tomei?" and such and such). There was this one wrestler, Claudio Castagnoli, who kept trying to talk into a microphone, and every time he opened his mouth, the whole audience would yell "Hey!" so he couldn't talk. This happened no less than 15 times. During the match, when the ref would do the usual counting, instead of yelling "One! Two!" they all yelled "Hey! Hey!" Claudio was very mad. Oh audience, you slay me. Bullies, you are. Hilarious bullies.

The main even of the night was, as we loyal wrestling fans like to call it, the CAGED COLLISION!!! Whooo!! Spring Break 2000!!! Yeah! Party. During an intermission (that's right, it was called an intermission, Sarah!), they set up the steel cage, which was basically chain link fencing all the way around the ring. Here's a visual of what Larry Sweeney might have looked like, inside this cage:
Photo courtesy of Larry Sweeney

This was where Sweet n' Sour Inc. would be pitted against some other guys who I don't care about. Let's get that straight. In my mind, it was Larry and like 85 other sort of scary-looking muscle-y men. I don't care who any of the others were. Maybe I will in time, when I attend a billion more of these events, but for now, I don't.

Here's what Larry, as the manager of Sweet n' Sour Inc., might look like, dressed all classy, at Ring of Honor:


Photos courtesy of Larry Sweeney

And here is a video of Larry Sweeney being classy, as usual:


Larry wasn't actually wrestling, but he definitely got involved, yelling douchebaggy comments at his own team, criticizing, mocking...it was beautiful. By the way, he was stylin' in a yellow dress shirt with a brown vest and pants and very fancy shoes. Nicely done, Larry. When his team lost, however, Larry couldn't take it. He got in the ring and started yelling at Bobby Dempsey, who had basically just stood there watching the whole giant sausage fest that was the steel cage match (seriously - ten guys jumping around an area that couldn't have been bigger than 20' by 20'. Total Sausage Fest). Larry slapped Bobby across the face, and that set off the rest of the team who, apparently, had had enough of Larry's abusive, asshole-y managerial skills. They then proceeded to help Bobby beat the shit out of Larry. Larry was thrown up against the side of the cage not once, not twice, but three or four times, all on different sides, so the entire audience could see. They were very thorough. The held him back while Bobby punched him repeatedly and threw his entire body at him. Larry got beat down, man, and we watched the whole thing, hands over mouths, wide-eyed, and honestly, pretty damn entertained. When it was all over and done, his own team left him laying in the ring, bleeding and miserable, and the match was over. Jesus christ.

Here's what he might have looked like on a different night:

Photo courtesy of Larry Sweeney

And here is a picture from the Ring of Honor website of a bloody Bobby Dempsey holding Larry Sweeney over his head at the end of the match.
Photo Courtesy of Ring of Honor

After this was all over, we kind of didn't know what to do with ourselves so we drove along Harlem Ave. for awhile until we got to one of those 24-hour Family Restaurants called The View. The sign used the same font/design as the show The View. Weird. We got some food and processed the night. Since I'd forgotten my camera, here's a phone picture of what we ordered:



Yeah, it's what it looks like. I got a club sandwich, Mladenka got a chicken kebab (there were two rings of pineapple on the rice for some reason), and Emil got a belgian waffle with whipped cream and bananas. We are awesome. Also, Emil got a giant mug of hot chocolate that was served with a giant scoop of whipped cream and a straw. His incredulous comment: I've never drank hot chocolate out of a straw...and I love it!



I'd say we did it up last night. Thanks, Ring of Honor.



On a more personal note, I do have to write about this because I woke up the next morning feeling really unsettled and not really sure what to do with myself. I have to say this: there is something very, very terrible about seeing somebody you love get the shit kicked out of them, even if it isn't real. Duh. But really, as we were leaving, Mladenka was all quiet and concerned about Larry and all the blood, and I made a little bit of fun, of course. "Um, it's fake, remember? You've been watching wrestling for years! Come on!" And I later tried to explain to she and Emil that I don't think I totally believed it was Alex in there...it was Larry Sweeney, the guy I've seen on youtube and laughed at and been amazed by for all these years. It's the guy on the playing card on my refrigerator. It's Sweet n' Sour Larry Sweeney! That's why it was entertaining. That's why it was hilarious. But later on, thinking about it all and reliving parts of it in my mind, I was terrified. Seeing him laying on the floor, with blood all over the back of his head, matted in his hair, literally being carried out of the ring by two or three guys...I think it was just too much for me.

I laid awake for hours last night, and after sleeping eventually, fitfully, I woke up with my head and heart aching. I don't think I'd be able to handle this very often...I'm probably too sensitive right now...

Chicago Again

I'm working on an unbelievably stunning blog about a remarkable event I attended last night but I'm stuck and cannot finish it quite yet. I'll give you a clue: it's about wrestling. But since I can't finish that one, or anything else lately due to some severe writer's block and the good ole Crazy Lady Brain that's been hitting harder than usual, I'll just let out this one real quick...

Every time I leave, my heart aches. As I drive away from the city, I only allow tiny glances in my rearview mirror because maybe this time the sight of some ambiguous skyscraper might make me turn around and never leave again.

I cannot figure out what I want to do.

STYX and Larry Sweeney - One Magical Night

Doesn't that make it sound like Prom? "Prom '96: One Magical Night." But dudes, for real...it really was. Way more magical than my actual prom night, which was mostly spent at a truck stop called The Full Moon Cafe on Highway 41 in northeastern Illinois.

I feel I need to start with Larry Sweeney. Larry is an old friend of mine who I've been in and out of touch with for the last twelve or so years. Fortunately, we're fully back in touch now, and plan to stay that way. We've been nurturing our relationship with good talks, palm readings, and, obviously, rocking live music. Last August, Larry and I went to see Alice Cooper in Hammond, Indiana. I'm not sure what to say about that, except for the following points:

*It was in a casino
*Larry's dad came along
*Alice Cooper killed a baby on stage
*It was pretty incredible

So Larry, being the go-getter he is, calls me up a few weeks ago and proposes the idea of going to see Styx. Now, I've seen Styx twice before, and both times were amazing, but I knew this time would be different. Instead of seeing this wondrous band in a big field in the classy city of Beloit, Wisconsin, we'd be attending the show at a theater in illustrious Waukegan, Illinois. How could I say no to this? Also, Larry Sweeney is known to raise the bar...I knew this would be a night I would not soon forget.

Thank effing god I went. Styx is amazing. I know about a billion people who like to make fun of me for liking Styx (Example A: Schabow, who, when we lived together, put on his own music turned up louder than my Styx at a party we had. Damn...that cut deep, Schabow), but really, they rule an incredible amount. Never mind that they are all close to my father's age and their hairstyles, which were once rocking and sexy, now look slightly weird. Never mind the fact that they are playing an identical set list to what I heard them play nearly three years ago. Never mind that one song "Show Me the Way" - they didn't even play it! This band rocks. And you should try and see them at some point.

Here are some highlights of the night. I forgot my camera, as usual, so these pictures from my phone will have to suffice:

*Larry's friend Cary got us seats in the second row, right in the center. The only people in front of us were "The Accounts Receivable Department," a bunch of 40-something ladies Larry nicknamed who were screaming and carrying on and catching guitar picks right and left. The members of Styx were definitely playing it up in front of these wild ladies - making eyes, winking, even mouthing "love you" to one of them. Scandalous!

*There was a lot of "THANK YOU WAUKEGAN!!!" and stuff like this to remind us where we were. There was also a pice of paper in front of the mic stands that, in a giant font, said WAUKEGAN, ILLINOIS and then underneath, MERRILVILLE, INDIANA to remind Styx of where they were. When they said they were heading to Merrilville next, the crowd booed a lot. Larry explained how towns always hate the other towns close to them. I thought that was pretty hilarious - to boo Merrilville. I'd boo because Merrilville is close to Gary, which smells like an actual butt. But that's just me.

*James Young, founding member, guitarist, and singer, makes the most insane Guitar Face I've ever seen. He also makes Vocal Face. I wish you could see this picture better so I wouldn't have to explain - his giant white teeth were unbelievable.



At one point, Larry turned to me and said "This guy is like a cross between Jon Voigt and..." I didn't let him finish. "GARY BUSEY!" I exclaimed! We giggled a lot.

*Although Dennis DeYoung (who I saw play Pontious Pilate in a production of Jesus Christ, Superstar when I was sixteen) is no longer in the band, Styx did not pussyfoot around when finding his replacement. I assume they traveled to a magical land, or to the end of a rainbow or something, because the man they found to sing the high parts and play keyboards was definitely...well...elf-ish. Not like the language in The Lord of the Rings. I mean he looked and acted like an actual elf. A tiny, feathery-haired, pervy elf. His silver skinny tie perfectly matched his pointy (yes, pointy) silver shoes. He leapt and pranced around the stage like a little sprite, spreading the magic of music. Or something. But he'd also do these totally gross moves where he'd put one leg all up high and thrust his pelvis in the air. His keyboard spun around, and he'd play with his hands behind his back, winking and mouthing "OH YEAH" at the crowd. Specifically the Accounts Receivable Department. There was a lot of screaming...



Here is another picture of that illusive elfin wizard. I think he must have been singing "Come Sail Away" at this point, judging from his arm, thrown out expressively...


Here's a picture of the bass player, not an original member, but a great addition to the band nonetheless. Larry noted that his haircut didn't look authentic enough. He was trying too hard.



Here's Jon Voigt/Gary Busy, partying down.


And another...I couldn't get enough of this guy. Damn weirdo...


This is the whole band. That's Jon/Gary second from the left, and Tommy Shaw (only other original member) right next to him. Tommy Shaw was brilliant - he was hilarious and entertaining, and when he said stuff like "We're having so much fun, Waukegan, we wish we didn't have to leave you!" I actually believed him.


What else...they sang almost everything I could have hoped for. They don't seem to play Mr. Roboto anymore, I think because of some weirdness with Dennis DeYoung in the past, and the fact that the rest of the band hated the song and this perhaps led to them breaking up...? But really, they sound amazing, they look...well, pretty alright. This was definitely my best Styx experience thus far. Seeing it in Rockegan (Waukegan dudes, come on!) was a big part of it. Seeing it with Larry was a huge part of it.

Go see Styx. Go see Larry Sweeney. Come on, I'm going (next Saturday)! Check all the Larry links on this blog - I worked hard on this. I'm doing you all a favor, seriously. Just go.

ADDENDUM!
I just received a comment from Dixie, who found my blog, and had been sitting right in front of Larry and I at this very show! She took amazing pictures, so if you'd like to see some where the faces are actually clear, check them out here. Seriously, amazing pictures.

And just so Dixie knows, the Accounts Receivable Department was actually the group of ladies to her left. I promise, I wasn't making fun!

The Kids

I sometimes wonder if my students will look back on their piano lessons years from now and think about how I would tear up or almost cry on a pretty regular basis, and think it was funny or weird. I don't think I'd mind if they did.

I listened carefully today as the kids talked about Martin Luther King Jr. and the excitement over the first black president ever in this country, and how cool it is going to be tomorrow when he's the "actual for-real president" of The United States. I think I finally got the feeling a lot of other people had on November 4th...my cynicism and hatred for most things political faded a bit and I got swept away by the other stuff.

I tell you man, these kids...They're so good at making me remember the important stuff. The stuff that my stubborn adult brain forgets to remember sometimes.

Small Chance

There's a small chance I may be losing my mind.

I'm in the bed, looking at the interwebs on my computer (the internet is on computers now, by the way), as I often am when I can't sleep. The outside doors are locked and checked, closets are closed, all the usual slightly compulsive before-bed-behaviors have been taken care of. Everything is fine, right?

Then I hear this noise.

I can't objectively describe what it sounds like because I'm biased. Obviously, every noise I hear in the middle of the night is a bat flying around my apartment. Obviously. What else could it be? A branch hitting the kitchen window? Nah, that's impossible. The house settling? No, that would just be stupid. My neighbor on the other side of the wall just a few feet away? Well, that's just crazy! It has to be a bat! There's just no other reasonable answer.

I guess I'm a little scarred from the previous incident (have a read - this one is a doozy). Once I realized a real live bat could get in my apartment once, I also realized that several real live bats could get in my apartment several times. In fact, when Genia was over on that fateful night, taking care of that bat (and taking care of me, the big baby), she was amazed that I'd never before had a bat in any apartment I'd ever lived in. I believe she said that she'd had four different ones. In my head, that of course meant that I was due for a few more soon. There's some aspect of probability in there. Zero in seven years of living here just didn't fit the statistics of Bat Appearances. Suck.

So anyhow, I hear this noise. I calmly set down my computer, which was nearly thrown across the room at the bat last time, walk to the entrance of my bedroom, and close my door. I stand, motionless, listening for the noise in the other room. I still hear it. Like I said, I cannot objectively describe it, so in my subjective mind, it sounded like "wings flapping, going back and forth across the room," which is what it sounded like last time. I remember my sister saying that bats could squeeze through tiny spaces, so I shove a couple of hoodies across the crack along the bottom of the door. I listen for a few more seconds. The noise has stopped. I assume that the bat has settled in one place. Or the wind has slowed and the tree branch is not moving, or my neighbor went to sleep, or the noise simply stopped, yes, but mostly I think the bat settled down.

So...is there a bat in my kitchen? I do not know. And I'm not going to find out. At least not tonight. Tonight, I absolutely cannot handle even the possibility of a goddamn bat. It's just not going to happen. Things may be different tomorrow, but I wouldn't count on it. I'll probably be sleeping with the door shut and spending a lot more time at all your houses for a few days.

I really think I need to calm down.

2008: The Year (of Suck) in Review

Omg, dudes, it's been awhile! I've missed you. And apparently, I've missed the boat with the whole "Year In Review" blog, seeing that it's the 4th day of 2009. Whoops a daisy. Well, I'm gonna do it anyhow. I've done some extensive research on some very dependable websites (facebook and myspace) and have collected a significant amount of data and scientific questions, compiled into one "survey," as some might say. Here we go:

2008: The Year (of Suck) In Review

Where were you when 2008 began?
At the High Noon, watching bands and drinking champagne with Tara, Tom, Nick, Mercy, Lee, and a billion other people. I kissed all of their faces. I spent the next day in bed, hungover, writing blogs. Awesome.


Where will you be when 2008 ends?
Um, I was in my parents' living room at a pretty hilarious party. Check it!






Did you fall in love in 2008?
Yeah, probably like 30 or 40 times. With all of you.

How many different states did you travel to in 2008?
I had a totally sexy summer vacation in Nude England, a lovely and spooky Halloweener in Atlanta, many food-and-drink filled weekends in Chicago, and a night in Minneapolis, where I visited one of my future husbands, Bruce Springsteen.

Did you miss anybody in the past year?
I missed everybody this year, man. I've been seriously missing Sarah, Jenny, Andy, Christopher, Helen, Tucky...basically everybody from college. I wish so hard that teleportation existed. Come on, science! Get on it!

What was your favorite movie that you saw in 2008?
Tenacious D: The Pick of Destiny. Duh, dudes. You know what was not the best movie ever? The Sex and the City movie. I was so mad after I saw it...I'll probably watch it again some day when I'm in a better mood. But jesus...

Did you have a favorite concert in 2008?
Oh my god, there were some really good ones this year.
The Bigguns: Bruce in March, Devotchka TWICE in April, M.I.A. in April, Alice Cooper with Sweet n Sour Larry Sweeney in August, Tina Turner with my mom in September, GZA/The Black Keys/The Roots for FREE at that Southern Comfort Music Thing outside, and I guess I'll mention Poison, even though it wasn't that good...
Mediums: The Kills at the Annex, Enon at the Annex, Califone and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club separately at the High Noon (not so much because of the music, but because I got to see old friends! Aww!), Bang Camaro at the Annex, The Giraffes the first time they played here, Mr. Gnome/Leslie and the Lys/Dan Deacon during the Forward Music Fest, Holly Golightly at the Momo, but mostly because of the company (yay Jess and Laura!), Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings at the Barrymore, Kraak and Smaak at the Majestic, The Planets at the Overture Center.
The Local Stuff: Digibot and the John Ashcroft Fan Club on Election Night, seeing Marcus King and thee Royalty for the first time, The Junkers at the Crystal, Heather's band at Mickey's, seeing the Shabelles a bunch of times, seeing Kitty Rhombus and liking them more and more each time, El Valiente at the High Noon. I know I'm forgetting some. But yes, many good ones.

High Point of the year?
I guess December 31st at 11:59 pm because the year was almost over? Okay, there were some good points. They were little, here and there, and mostly involved people I love being wonderful. Thanks, dudes.
My sister dyeing my hair and my mother washing it out in the kitchen sink. I know, it's funny, but it was great.


Having the Irish cousins visit this past week. They're some of the most genuine, sincere, lovely, loving people ever.
My trip to Nude England.

Low point of the year?
March 26th through April and a lot of May
That week at the end of July
That other week right before Thanksgiving

Best holiday?
Arbor Day, definitely. No, wait. Halloween, duh. It was a doozy this year...Gigantic warehouse party, jello shots, dancing to Rihanna and The Pussycat Dolls when Layla took over the music, eating like 20 cocktail weenies at the end of the night (this was after only eating fruit for like 5 hours - then I forgot). Being a fortune teller and making my own deck of tarot cards. Omg.



Anthem for 2008?
Rock n Roll Part 2. It became the Family Anthem...the rule is, whenever somebody starts singing it, everybody else has to stop whatever they're doing and join in on the "HEY!" part. Rules is rules...


Who did you spend your valentines with?
I honestly don't remember. This year will be different...me and Jordan Catalano all the way. He'll teach me how to drive his car, and I'll appreciate the way he leans. Like...against stuff.

Best New Relationship/Friend?
I was a lucky son of a gun this year, I gotta tell you. I met some amazing people, reconnected with others, became closer with and got to see more...fantastic times...
Best Newbies: Breena, Marc, Lacy, Jess, Laura, Anna. Friends rule...I'm such a lucky lady!
Best Reconnections: Alex/Larry Sweeney, Kevin, Jenny, Lauren, Mark
Best Others: Daniella, Lisa, Lee, Lynn, Bill, Jacob. Oh my god. Friends rule.

Best new album that you have?
Okay, I don't have it, but I love that Raconteurs album. This year I was also loving these:
TV on the Radio - Dear Science
Devotchka - A Mad and Faithful Telling
Bloc Party - Intimacy
M.I.A. - Kala
Santogold - Santogold
Betty Davis - This Is It!
I've also been loving Blondie, Art Tatum, and probably a billion others. Can you tell I'm a bando?

Most proud moment?
Recitals, going to "Friends and Family Day" at Emil's school (it was also very hilarious). Starting the One Second Time Machine. I don't know, man, every time I look at my friends and family? I'm a proud, proud guy.

Most reliable person?
The Fam, Sarah, Genia, Tara.

Best job of the year?
Mine. This answer will never change, I promise you.

Favorite quote of the year?
I've given some thought to my jewelry needs, and I don't think I need gold anymore...I need something spider-based. Nothing tacky or cheap looking...I need, like...a pretty web necklace. -a Gem from Sara

Rate 2006 on a scale of 1-10(best)
Ugh. A 5 maybe? Such a year of suck...more sadness and tragedy and awfulness than I've ever seen in one year, seriously. Between the deaths and divorces and sickness, I don't even know. Not to mention the economy. But I learned a lot. My Saturn hit me very hard, and I'm a much better person for it. Much more mature - in fact, when I wrote "person" back there, at first I spelled it "peeson" and laughed for about five minutes. See? More mature.

Plans for 09?
Stick with this whole less tumultuous, quieter thing I've got going on. Less drama. More of what I want. More of what I need. A big trip somewhere with Sarah to celebrate our 30th bdays. Keep eating right and cooking awesomely. Evaluate exactly what is keeping me in Madison. Buy a better Ipod. Book club! Keep writing, specifically my blog.

Thumbs up, 2009! Stay classy!

Would You Rather!

A couple of weeks ago, I ended up babysitting for some of my students - this is a rarity, as I do not like to mix my super professional nature with outside-work sorts of things. But this was a wonderful exception - I got to hang out with four kids (three of whom I teach at the art center) for a few hours while their parents went to holiday parties.

So not only did I make a small fortune on a Saturday night, but I had a lovely time. Mostly we played the Wii. I'm not all that excited about sports in real life, but sports on the Wii are kind of fun. I'm actually extremely good at baseball and golf on the Wii. In real life, I'd probably vomit from boredom with these sports. But with the Wii...everybody can be good at sports. Even the nerdiest of nerds. Even bandos. Wow.

We'd been playing on the Wii for a little while when one of the kids (age 9) started asking me a bunch of questions. "What's your favorite thing to do at a mall? What do you eat for breakfast? When you go to sleep, what do you do to make yourself tired?" This soon turned into more hypothetical questions..."If you could have a pet monkey, would you? What about a pet ostrich? Would you rather have a pet monkey or win the lottery?" And those were the key words, my friends..."Would You Rather."

"Oh, we play this game all the time at the dinner table," the 9 year old tells me. "We're just not allowed any potty talk." That seems fair enough, so we begin. I wish I remembered more of them...here are some that come to mind right away:

Would you rather go to jail or carve a hole in the president's desk (the hole would have to be about an inch and a half in diameter)?

Would you rather eat mayonnaise mixed with hair, or a tooth dipped in mustard?

Would you rather have to wear braces for the rest of your life, or have buck teeth for the rest of your life and have a newspaper article written about it every day for the rest of your life?

Would you rather have flower pots stuck around your feet or cauliflowers for ears?

Would you rather get a tattoo of my face (the 9 year old) or B's face (the 7 year old) on your stomach?

Would you rather get your belly button pierced 8 times or get a tattoo of B on your stomach?

And such and such. It's amazing to me...in fact, when I went to the bar later that night, I played more with some friends of mine. And you know what? The kids won in the creativity every time. I mean, sure, there were some good ones (i.e. would you rather eat a hot dog - asking a vegan person - or your own finger? Would you rather have one boob or three boobs?), but nothing compared to the brilliance of the kids.

This past weekend, I went to a Christmas party at another friend's house and proceeded to play Would You Rather again, this time with Genia leading the way. It started innocently enough, but then I realized that these kids could totally use potty talk. Here are some of the ones from this weekend:

Would you rather be an eyelash or a boob?

Would you rather be a butt or a fart?

Would you rather have butterflies for ears or big tree trunks for arms?

Would you rather be a teacher made of blood or a teacher made of bread?

Would you rather be a couch or a Christmas tree (G was just saying things he saw in front of him at this point)?

Would you rather dance or stand around on the couch?

Would you rather live in a car with your mom or a dorm room with your dad (to be fair, this was made by the dad of these kids...pretty good...)?

Although the kids totally win, I do have to point out some pretty brilliant ones that came out somewhere between Gwen, Genia, and I within the last few years...

Would you rather have sand teeth or yogurt hands (imagine latex gloves filled with yogurt and tied off at the wrists. Imagine playing piano, or taking out the garbage with those yogurt hands...)?

Would you rather have yogurt hands or a layer of skin around your teeth? Sick.

Would you rather have really loud farts or really stinky farts? Also, you fart about 8 times an hour.

And last but not least, Genia's famous one...Would you rather (something terrible and awful - fill in your own) or eat your own hand?

You got any??

Surviving the Wisconnie Winters

Oh, Wisconnie. You and your winters. You really don't give us a break, do you? Here we are, today, the first day of winter, and already we've been through several snowstorms and winter storm warnings. 10 plus inches of snow on Friday, another snow day a week and a half before, and plenty in between. Seriously, Wisconnie, give it a rest.

Although I complain a lot about it all, and sometimes feel a little crazy and like I've lost part of my mind, I do take comfort in the fact that, at least, I've learned how to deal with it. Yesterday we got another 4 or so inches of snow, and today the temperature is -5 degrees. Not the windchill; that's somewhere between -25 and -30. This is the actual temperature, in fahrenheit. I think that would be something like -20 centigrade. I knew at some point that I'd have to go dig my car out and maybe shovel the sidewalk in order to be a good neighbor. So, I thought I'd give you all a little "How To" on staying warm and looking glamorous, all whilst doing something productive.

As a precursor to these pictures, I must state that I am officially throwing any ounce of vanity I ever had out the window. Instead of being horrified about posting pictures of myself in long underwears all over the internet, I'm having a little giggle about it and thinking more so of the comedic value. This is my Christmas gift to all of you. Enjoy:

How to Survive a Wisconsin Winter
1.) Tie your hair back in a ponytail. You won't have time for any nonsense once you're out in the tundra.


2.) Wear an undershirt. Yes, plain white works well, but I prefer the more festive magenta with polka dots.


3.) Put on your first layer of socks. These ones in particular are black wool with light blue snowflakes all over them. Highly recommended.


4.) Put on your second layer of socks. Those would be my brother Emil's old soccer socks. They come out about three times a year, especially for this occasion. These are great because they fit over the first giant pair of socks, and they go up to your knees.


Also, they're obviously very sexy, especially layered over the green long underwears. Uh oh! Things are starting to look a bit lumpy! Like I said earlier, totally glamorous.


5.) Put on your top long underwears. This is probably the point of me throwing the ole vanity out the window. An entire suit of long underwears. Ugh...


6.) Apply arm warmers, to keep your wrists warm. These are valuable wrists I've got here, folks. Gotta keep them warm.


7.) Add an additional top and bottom layer. Those are regular blue jeans on the bottom, found at many clothing stores. Let me know if you have trouble finding them. On top is another long underwear shirt, this one slightly cuter. I may have lost some of my dignity with this blog, but I still want to wear a cute shirt once in awhile.


8.) Put on a scarf and a hat. My suggestion for these is that there be no holes in the scarf or hat. Yes, it may be a little dorky to wear a Nightmare Before Xmas hat, but it's warm. Suck it up. Make sure the scarf covers your ears and entire neck in the back. Go around your neck twice with it, then tie in a tight knot in front. This specific application helps to make sure you drool all over the inside of your scarf whilst outside...classy, as always!


9.) Next, you'll want to put on your boots. Not the cute boots you bought from the big Boot Sale the other day - these are the waterproof, sort of ugly, practical boots you keep in the back of your closet. Put these on. Struggle to get them to zip up over your numerous socks. Pants get tucked in.


10.) Look for every glove you own. Use the stretchy cheap kinds as the first layer, and the big bulky kind as the second layer. Try and make it so your fingers can still move, sort of. Also try not to get something fluffy on your tongue like I did today, because you'll have to take all those gloves off, and that's a pain in the ass, frankly.


11.) Put on your winter coat over all of this. Take off your damn gloves to zip it up, all the way past your chin. If you have a hood, put it up. Then, put another scarf around it all. You'll look great.


12.) One last finishing touch...sunglasses! These are for either if it's sunny, or if your eyes need protection from the wind. Try and have them be giant and match part of your outfit.


13.) When you come back inside, take off everything you're wearing and put it in a big pile on the floor. Eat a lot of chocolate covered pretzels in your regular underwears, not your long underwears. You've had enough of those...

Fakin' It For Dinner

So...I've been cooking. I've never been one to get excited about cooking. Maybe I'd get excited about making an incredible sandwich, each ingredient carefully layered in a very specific order. Or maybe if somebody else wanted to cook a bunch of stuff and have me "critique" their cooking, I'd get excited. But really, the idea of coming home from work at 9 pm and cooking something delicious has always seemed a bit out of reach for me. It's probably because I never really tried very hard before. Whoops a daisy.

And so, this year, I've started trying. Yay Reem! Good show, old man. Seriously though, although it's been a sucko year, it's also been a year of a lot of change, what with my Saturn returning and all...So I've embraced it, and I'm trying new things. I know that to most, cooking isn't a "new thing," but for me, it sort of is. I've been way better at cooking vegetables and making things up as of late, although I still have not, and most likely will not, cook meat. Grody. And so I must say, through hours of hard work, researching recipes on the internet, chopping, slicing, dicing, sauteing, and sampling, my cooking has a reached a point of absolute mediocrity. That's right - from non-existent to mediocre. Not bad.

In my quest to cook more, I've also been attempting to be healthier. Some days it works. Other days, I mostly eat bacon and potato chips. Waa waa. Tonight I was inspired to combine the "trying new things" with the "healthy" and cook up a big, delicious dinner. The funny thing is that it wasn't necessarily the healthiest thing in the world, rather, it was all "fake" versions of other things. A few months ago, I wrote about the fake versions of things, like Not Dogs and BologNo and Gimme Lean. In fact, Valerie made a brilliant comment with a list of like fifteen more - fantastic (you should absolutely check that blog and look at the comments section to see what she wrote)! Tonight was kind of like that...here is the menu:

"Macaroni and Cheese"
"Mashed Potatoes"
"Fried Chicken"
"Garlic Bread"

Why all the quotes, you ask? Well, those names are all sort of lies. For example, in the "Macaroni and Cheese," instead of using pasta, I used spaghetti squash. Spaghetti squash is like spaghetti, right? And pasta is spaghetti, and pasta is what goes in macaroni and cheese, so why the eff not? A perfect substitute. I baked the squash for an hour and then added it to the extra gourmet cheese sauce I'd made with Smart Balance and fat free American cheese. Yes, gourmet. Sexy. I know it looks kind of gross in the pictures, but it was really pretty good!







You might be wondering what could be fake about "Mashed Potatoes." Well, my friends, they were definitely mashed, but it wasn't all potatoes. Get ready to be gassy, because these "Mashed Potatoes" are actually mashed potatoes and...cauliflower! That's right, cauliflower. It's actually really delicious, and the same color as potatoes, so you could probably fool people pretty easily. You boil them up together (I did it in a vegetable stock for extra flava), and throw in some light cream cheese, margarine, a splash of milk, and salt n pepa. PLUS - I made it in the Magic Bullet! Everybody wins!



"Fried Chicken." Well, I'm not going to beat around the bush here. It was obviously a Morningstar Farms chik patty. That is all.

And as for the "Garlic Bread," I guess it wasn't really all that fake.I just didn't have any "good, crusty" bread as the online recipe suggested. Yeah...I only had frozen whole wheat loaf bread. Um...it was kind of okay. Sort of gross. But, the brilliant and innovative cook in me decided to make roasted garlic. I made three heads, just with some olive oil, salt, and thyme. After that was done, I mixed in some margarine and made a nice spread for the sort of stale bread. It wasn't all that bad, I guess...I probably would not offer it to guests, but still. It filled the void.




The final product (no picture of the delicious vodka drink that went along with dinner - all real ingredients there!):



Now that all that delicious food has been consumed and enjoyed, it's time to get creative. I need new fake names for these scrumptious concoctions! I'm blanking at the moment (I must be exhausted from all that cooking), so I'll need your help. We need names that sound like the real name, but have "no" or "not" or something involved somehow. Am I being clear? Like for Nachos, you could switch it to "Not-chos." Get it? Easy as pie.

Here is what I have so far:

Macaroni and Cheese:
Macaro-No, Please
Macaro-No, by Meez!

Mashed Potatoes:
Slashed Pota-Nos
Bashed Pota-Nos
Mashed Mamatoes

Fried Chicken:
Fried Chalken (this makes me want to vomit)
Pride Chicken
Morningstar Fams Chik Patty

Garlic Bread:
I got nothing.

As you can see, I need a lot of help here. I'm looking especially to Miss Sherin, who was so helpful with the whole Surf n Turf debacle. My creativity can only go so far...I am definitely not a viking at making up new clever names for things. Help a girl out!

Tis The Season! Gay Apparel! Deck the Halls with Gasoline!

Last year, I wrote my Tis The Season blogs about 3 weeks earlier in the year. Now here we are less than two weeks away from Christmas, and I haven't even told you all how I'm totally in the Christmas spirit already this year. Yes, 2008 has been the year of suck, but it's drawing to a close now, and I feel like Christmas '08 will be what makes it go out with a bang. A bang of awesomeness and rocking, I hope. After all, Tis The Season!

Let me explain for anybody who wasn't around last year. "Tis The Season" became my catch phrase for about a month and a half before Christmas last year. It really works in many ways as an all-encompassing, witty, and brilliant response to most questions, statements, and situations that may arise around the holidays. Examples:

Cashier at Target: I see you're buying some Christmas gifts!
You/Me/Person Responding: Well, Tis The Season!

Boss at Work: Oh, you're a few minutes late...
You/Me/Somebody Awesome: Well, Tis The Season! What can you do?

Bartender: Drinking alone again, eh?
You/Me/Geniuses: Tis The Season, Jackass! (this should be said whilst sloshing your martini glass about, sloppily)

And such and such. "Tis The Season" can really be used at any times. My favorite times are, as mentioned, whilst in the company of a martini or other alcoholic beverage. See what you can do...it's a great catch phrase.

So besides celebrating the Reason for the Season by bringing back my awesome catch phrase, here are some other things I've been enjoying...

*The phrase "Don we now our gay apparel" makes me laugh every time I hear it or think about it. And it makes me think of fancy Christmas sweaters and other totally gay apparel.

*While teaching all the holiday songs at work, I get to have the following songs in my head:
Deck the Halls with Gasoline
Jingle Bells, Batman Smells
Joy to the World, the Teacher's Dead
We Three Kings of Orient Are - tried to smoke a rubber cigar - it was loaded, it exploded - Then I don't know the rest of the words! Can anybody help me with this??

*I may just change my myspace profile to have a Christmas theme...you won't know until you check it out! Last year it was "A Nicholas Cage Christmas." How can I even top that asshole? (Okay, I just tried to change it, but it wasn't working. Don't check right this second. Give me a few days. It will rock, I promise)

*Going to see the lights at Olin Park. I've been four times already. Five, if you count the fact that when I went through with my friend Laura and her son Miles, we got to go through twice. Yeah! I will most likely go about ten more times before they take them down. Never alone...I always need company. Hint hint...

*Awesome and hilarious and thoughtful gifts from The Kids. So far I've received over $40 worth of gift certificates for coffee (all local, no Starbucks! Yay for Madison kids!), a school picture of the naughty seven year old, a snowman tin filled with chocolate covered pretzels, a thing of trail mix, and a gift card from Panera that also came with a tub of blueberry "body butter." The kid who gave it to me presented it in this way:

Um, Miss Reem, um, I picked out the smell of that stuff for you because I thought maybe you could go to Panera and get a blueberry muffin, and then also the smell of that buttery stuff is also blueberry. Merry Christmas.

Brilliant. I'm anticipating more. I'll let you know what happens.

*Aaron Neville doing "Please Come Home for Christmas" on the radio. Even better than the Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire one. "Bells will be ringing...the gla-a-a-a-a-d news...oh what a christma-a-a-a-a-as...to have the blu-u-u-u-ues." Beautiful!



*And last, but the least of the least, decorating the Christmas tree at my parents' house. Last year, we left it to the last minute and ended up decorating it on Christmas Eve. This year, however, we were organized and proactive. Totally Christmassy. We put up the tree after Thanksgiving and decorated it as a family. My mother and I always have an argument about certain ornaments that are hidden away in the large storage boxes. There's easily over two hundred ornaments in there, some from before my older sister was born. There are these tiny little felt animals in crazy colors that are from my parents' first Christmas together in 1974. Mom argues that we don't need to put up all the old ones, and also that we don't need to put up every single ornament. I argue the opposite: of course we need to put up every single ornament in the house, and of course we're putting up the 34 year old ornaments. They're part of the family!

One year, BFF Sarah was visiting and helped us decorate the tree. When I told her about these old animal ornaments, she got all sentimental and hung them all in a giant clump, right at the top of the tree in the very front. I think her mindset was that "they deserved a little recognition" or something like that. I wholeheartedly agree. And this year was no different - the 34 year old ornaments are up in the tree!

About a third of the ornaments on the tree were made by my fantastically artistic sister (I'll take more pictures when I go visit for the holidays and post them later). Some are more recent - the silver spiders, which symbolize the story of the family that was too poor to afford an ornaments, so the spiders crawled all over the tree and became ornaments themselves. The icicles she made with the old people she volunteered with in a retirement center, the tiny silver snowflakes...they're all beautiful. Then there are the older ones, which are just kind of random. Like the Christmas Penguin, or the sled with the word "MOM" written on it in puffy paint, or the ball with sticks stuck in it, or the bear playing the drums, covered in sequins...



Or the lovely round thing that's silver and blue and pink...



I love each of these ornaments, and as long as I'm around, every one will go up on the christmas tree every year.

There is one ornament that stands out to me this year, and it's mostly because of the story with which it is associated. There's a little hanging Cinderella mouse named Jaq that Sara remembers getting in a McDonald's Happy Meal the first year we lived in that house, which was 1984, I think. She remembers it well because, at the time, there were limited edition special holiday dipping sauces that came with the chicken nuggets. She remembers something to the extent of Apple Cinnamon and Cranberry Spice. I've been searching forever to find out anything about this, but to no avail. I did find this interesting page on Wikipedia about McDonalds in other countries. Crazy foreigners...

Now, speaking of crazy foreigners, I'll leave you with more pictures of the beautiful tree and my classy parents: