January 22, 2007

Playing Dress Up

I'm a member of a wonderful church - wait! this isn't a religious, church post, I swear it! You just have to understand a little bit about our church in order to understand the story.

Back in the late 80s, the congregation was thinning out, people having moved and died. The remaining folks brainstormed for a few years, did studies ... trying to decide to what group or groups they felt a call to mission.

In the early 90s, they decided to become "open and affirming," meaning that they would not turn anyone away due to race, disability, sex, AIDS status or sexuality ... or any other issue. They reasoned that Jesus often reached out to those whom society rejected ... and so they should follow that example.

Fast forward to two winters ago ... time for our bi-annual coffee house. Our MC for the evening's entertainment was a lovely man who does a nice, clean-ish drag act. I mean, if you've ever seen a real drag act ... ummm ... wow ... some of these folks would make a sailor or a longshoreman blush a brilliant red! But "Jake" has a nice act which includes a mild version of the cattiness that keeps it fun ... and family-friendly.

In the audience this night is "Michael," his mom, "Judy" ... and Judy's two granddaughters, around age 5 or so.

The girls are utterly and completely entranced with MC Jake ... or "Ginny" as he was called that evening. Now, there are three basic types of drag queens. One, the idiots who think they look good ... but they don't. Think of some of those folks who audition for American Idol who honestly think they are a gift to singing - and they're really really really not. Two, the ones who look wonderful. A lot of these drag queens you might never know were biologically male.

The third category is gender-fook. These drag queens are simply playing with the various gender roles in voice, appearance, mannerism and the like. Maybe not shave the beard, but wear a dress. Maybe talk with a deep voice, but have beautiful make-up. Basically, they're challenging what is male and female roles and stereotypes and having fun blending everything together.

Ginny was this type.

Apparently Michael's girls were completely fascinated with "Ginny" and her wardrobe changes. HERE was a grown-up who understood dress up in ways they had never fathomed! There were no questions about whether Ginny/Jake was male or female. All the girls saw was a grown up who understood how to play.

For the next week or two, both girls played dress up incessantly ... but not just dress-up, no! Michael got a great kick out of telling people that his girls were playing "Drag Queen Dress Up" ... proudly MCing imaginary shows, artful use of scarves around the neck ... and, apparently, some questioning of Daddy as to how they could draw beards on themselves.

If playing dress up ... if playing pretend ... is about stretching our minds to the edges of what is possible instead of merely plausible, these girls have a head start on learning to think outside the box.

Remember, there is no spoon.

Posted by Red Monkey at 4:03 AM | Comments (1) | People Say I Have ADHD, But I Think - Hey Look, A Chicken | Stumble

January 16, 2007

Good Things to Know

1) Drinking too much water too fast can kill you. BBC (Yes, I put this in here because of the "Hold your wee for a Wii" contest)
2) Being boreded is a bad thing.
3) The word boreded is my trademark word. I use "Dude" a lot too.
4) I only take 3 maintenance prescriptions a day. How many do you take? (My sister seems to think this is a lot ... but I'm an asthmatic ... well so is she ... still.)
5) Many people do NOT want to LOOK for something. They want someone else to miraculously know the answer. Now, look. I know we all get in a hurry and want a fast answer. But when someone tells you "I don't know where the "do this" option is on this website ... then answering with "I don't see it?" doesn't miraculously make the answer clear to everyone else. And why a question, anyway? "I don't see it?" Do you not know if you see it or not? Do you have difficulties?
6) I'm apparently cranky with most people lately.
7) I do not understand why people refuse to poke around a website or computer program and learn the answers they need for themselves. If you go look for it and find it ... you're far more likely to remember it. If it's told to you once, you'll probably have to ask again.
8) I have learned the definition of "stupid question." A stupid question is one which you have asked the same person more than once, expecting to get a different answer.
9) Starting Effexor and a beta blocker on the same day makes you really sleepy.
10) Moving to an office which actually has actual sunlight and not just fluorescent buzzing lightbars makes for a more pleasant work environment and actually improves productivity.

And there you are. Some good things to know.

Now ... how many meds do YOU take a day? Really. Cuz I want to get my sister to calm down and quit worrying about me.

Posted by Red Monkey at 10:56 AM | Comments (8) | People Say I Have ADHD, But I Think - Hey Look, A Chicken | Stumble

December 31, 2006

Vinyl Redux

So, my grand idea for a Christmas present for my aunt and uncle was to convert some of their old vinyl records into CDs. I remember they've got a ton of vinyl from the summer that I spent with them back when I was 13 (and vinyl was still a better choice than cassettes ... and there were no CDs yet). I've got a USB record player that plugs direction into my computer, and I've been attempting to get through my own small stack of records.

So, Christmas day, I make sure that my mom opens her present early ... I've already converted some of our Kingston Trio records for Mom ... designed new covers and tray cards and even labels. So I wanted my aunt and uncle to see that before I told them that I'd do the same thing for them.

Not only did Mom flip out when she saw (and heard!!! much more important, that) what I had done with those records, but when I told my aunt to pick out some favourites and I'd do the same for them ... wow. Talk about some eyes lighting up. She looked like a giddy schoolgirl the day the first Paul Simon solo album debuted.

For the remainder of the short trip, any time that it looked like my aunt might have a few minutes, I reminded her about choosing some vinyl for me to take home. Finally, the morning I was to leave, she trekked down to the basement for a look-see.

She came upstairs with just a crushed look. I know she thought they'd gotten rid of the vinyl at some point during their moves. But my uncle was positive the vinyl was still there. He trekked down and came back a few minutes later. Bundled with armfuls of records, we spread them out on the huge Heywood-Wakefield dining table from the 60s (or was that 50s? it was Grandma's first).

Both of my cousins, my sister, her husband, my aunt, my uncle, me ... we're all in this crazy daze (not a crazy daizie ... that's something else entirely) ... we're all frantically looking through these musty records ... amazed at the original Beatles pressings (yes, I said originals ... and damn, if they're not in great condition, too).

There's the pressing of the soundtrack to Hair ... There Goes Rhymin' Simon ... some Cat Stevens ... some Kenny Loggins ... The Kingsmen ... various people from Woodstock ... Joan Baez.

By the time we leave, I've got about 50 records between those my aunt, uncle and cousins have selected ... a couple I added to the pile ... and the slew of records that my grandmother dug up whilst we were all lost in time looking at my aunt and uncle's records.

Now, I've got Kingston Trio, Dean Martin, Barbra Streisand, Joan Baez ... and on and on.

It's going to be a fun few months, exploring music I've always loved along with songs that I've never heard before. The fun part will be deciding which of the 50 will also get full graphics treatment as well as being converted to digital music.

But you know, I love my aunt and uncle ... I adore my Grandma ... and my cousins are just as excited about this as I am. 'tis a good thing all in all.

Posted by Red Monkey at 11:09 AM | Comments (3) | People Say I Have ADHD, But I Think - Hey Look, A Chicken | TrackBack | Stumble

December 30, 2006

Men Can't Sculpt

Geek time. Just a warning.

WTF is wrong with the companies producing action figures, huh? Look, we all know that the "realistic" looking action figures are sculpted largely by comic book geeks for comic book geeks. However, check out this new offering of Supergirl:

Now, this particular picture does not really do justice to the hideousness of the male neck which dominates this figure. I saw this toy in Target the other day and, for a moment, I thought, "Hey, I wouldn't mind having that figure -- they finally got a female figure --"

I trailed off as I picked her up off the peg hook.

Hideousness incarnate.

Now, I've collected action figures for quite some time. And I've noticed a couple of things. First, toy executives are absolutely, positively convinced that female action figures do not sell. On the other hand, they remain completely convinced that 873 versions of Batman in increasingly garish colours, with sculpts that are exactly the same, only changing the colours and sometimes the accessories, will sell in spades. I have heard 8 year olds in the Batman aisle at Toys R Us and Target, frustrated and confused as to why Batman is suddenly bright neon orange when they have NEVER seen him that way on the cartoons.

I, too, wonder about these things, but in recent years, I've particularly been struck by two areas. First, vital but ancillary characters. Until the customizing community became big in the late 1990s, there had never been an Alfred action figure made for the Batman toy lines. Sure, Alfred is not necessarily the crime fighting front-page type. But really, can you think about Batman without ever thinking about Alfred? What about Jim Gordon, the police chief for Gotham? Once action figure customizers began rounding out the lesser known villains and the supporting cast of some shows, that the toy companies sat up, took notice, and began doing the same.

Sadly, they have learned NOTHING about sculpting women in this time. Check out some of these early female sculpts:

Seriously. WTF?

Now, the hideous green thing and the similar looking blob next to it are She-Hulk and Xena, respectively. I know they're supposed to be muscular. But do they have to look like pumped up on steroids eastern European Olympic Frankensteins??? Lucy Lawless did NOT look like that. The neck is particularly egregious. That's the neck of a weight-lifting Schwartzenegger, not a female athlete.

What kills me is that they KNEW the neck was a bad job at sculpting and they "covered it up" by adding the strange little neck band. Really, all this does is make the figure look even more like a poorly done-up drag queen attempting to hide an adam's apple.

And the 1995 Princess Leia?

Look at the picture of Carrie Fisher on the packaging ... the whole figure and the close up of the head. Really? What the hell?

It comes down to this, in my opinion: stick boobs and an attempt at make-up on the figure, and it's good enough. The "men" buying these toys are only buying them for the boobs anyway, right?

OH COME ON!

Now, back up to the Supergirl figure that made me start this rant. The midriff is actually really well done. This is not a man's six-pack, but the muscular torso of a woman. Obviously this sculptor paid attention to more than just the boobs. Sadly, though, the neck is still the trunk-like thing of ... of ... well, I think the eastern european female athlete is still the best analogy. The arms were sculpted well, and even the shoulders have a nice, decent proportion.

And then we get to the legs, which obviously didn't truly matter as they look to be standard male superhero legs fitted into this body.

Certainly this is a wee bit better than the hideousness that was She-Hulk and Xena ... and somewhat better than the 1995 Princess Leia. But, look what happens when instead of trying to be perfectly "realistic" about a female sculpt, they go into their nice little fantasy world:

Here, we have another neck piece covering any possible thickness to the neck, but we also have a much more feminine face (even if it's demonic ... this is, after all, Corrupted Supergirl), a feminine torso, even feminine legs. The tops of the arms ... not exactly the shoulders, I'm talking about the top of the piece of plastic that makes the arm ... these are too large for the rest of the figure.

But overall, this is a much better female figure. Sadly, she's also pretty much just a sexual fantasy.

Why is it that the Slave Leia action figure ... the Betty Page action figures (oh yes, they did make those) ... and any female figure that can be sexualized to the extreme - THOSE are the female action figures which look female. The rest? Bah. Slap boobs on it and call it done. The kids won't care. The male collectors won't care, they just want the boobs.

The only exception to this that I've found is action figures which are done in the cartoon style. Seems once you completely simplify the lines, the sculptors have a much easier time sculpting women.

*sigh*

I suppose I'm just going to have to learn to sculpt action figures myself and stop simply customizing existing pieces. (Of course, that means I have to learn to paint eyes better. I'm shuddering to think of the last female action figure I customized. Scary eyes. Very very very scary.)

Posted by Red Monkey at 12:48 PM | Comments (4) | People Say I Have ADHD, But I Think - Hey Look, A Chicken | TrackBack | Stumble

December 27, 2006

Anatomy of a Holiday Trip

Friday, December 22
We are scheduled to leave Sunday after church. We both sing in the choir and I am trying to figure out when in the hell I am going to learn the new song we were given Thursday night. Naturally, 2/3 of the choir that sang it last year, thinks this is an easy song. However, it has odd little repeat sections ... at the end of page four go back to the middle of page 2. At the end of page 8 go back to the middle of page 5. At the beginning of the song, tenors sing alone for 16 measures, then rinse, lather repeat, but this time with the altos joining in.

Work is a little goofy. None of us want to do anything. Those who aren't taking vacation time are looking forward to the three day weekend. Those of us who are taking vacation time are looking forward to ten full days of no work.

The boss emails us around 11 to say he's leaving at 12:30. Emails again a few minutes later to tell everyone to work six hours and then leave ... or until you've got everything done that you have to get done. I leave at noon. (Hey, I got there at 6 a.m.) I begin wrapping presents.

We spend a nice evening at home.

8:55 a.m., Saturday, December 23
I am playing on the computer for a while, getting the present for my mother finished.

The phone rings. It's A's mom. She wants to make sure we know that she's really looking forward to seeing us on the 26th and that Aunt "Jeanette" and Cousin "Kevin" will be here for a while as well.

The 26th? WTH???? We're not leaving my aunt and uncle's house until the 27th or 28th. I'm confused, but do NOT tell my mother-not-in-law that. We are leaving after church on Christmas eve ... we should get to my family's gathering around 5 p.m. ... have Christmas day ... then turn around and leave?

I wake up the other half to tell her that her mother called. And then we begin the ever-popular ... "when are we leaving my family's house to go to yours?" game. This did not bode well for the start of the trip, but the end result is a call to the choir director and the decision to leave the house at 5 or 6 a.m. on Sunday. That will put us there at least a half day ahead of schedule and then I only miss about a half of a day that I thought we were going to be there.

We take the dogs to the kennel about two. And immediately we run into the oddest construction I have ever seen in this area. Just outside the airport, they have built two roundabouts for no apparent reason whatsoever. And, naturally, the kennel closes at three. This is a 20 minute drive or so ... and now we're beginning to wonder how we're going to get there since this is the only road we know to take ... and the second roundabout is finished ... except for the road we need to take to get to the kennel. That one no longer connects up.

BAH.

As it turns out, the new way is much faster.

We return home and begin the serious packing, wrapping, laundry ... I am sent to the store for nutmeg so that A can make the jelly. (And so I can pick up the presents I forgot but had been intending to buy for ... umm, prolly over a month. All picked out. Totally forgot to pick UP.)

11 p.m.
Jelly is done.
Bedtime without the lickle doggy-wogs is odd.

Sunday, December 24, 4 a.m.
Alarm goes off. A does not wish to open her little peepers. I am up and putting the labels on the now dry jelly jars. Begin hollering at A about 4:30. I wanna get on the road and get going.

5:50 a.m.
One the road, with a planned stop on the way out of town at the choir director's house to leave their jar of jelly ... and, apparently, to pick up our tub of chocolates. Then, on the road we go.

10 a.m.
We arrive a full two hours before anyone expected us. Yea!!!! for us.

The mayhem of my family then ensues. My cousins are both a good 6+ feet tall and built like linebackers. They are loud and silly and fun and I love them to pieces. My mom is picked up from the airport around noon ... and then the last minute shopping sprees begin. My cousins, A and I are in one vehicle. "Da Women-folk" in another. We go to the cool stores. The closed action figure store in which I drool like an idiot despite the locked door and posters which covered most of the window. The five and dime slash Halloween crap store in which we bought stocking stuffers. The comic book store in which A and I were both going to buy one thing ... but then the boys yanked those out of our hands and said, "We needed to know what to get you." LMFAO

I see that I have left out the fact that for every store we had to visit (including the trip to Bed Bath and Beyond), my cousin made a wrong turn. He also attempted to drive into the construction walls. And back into a car. And generally attempt to get me to laugh hysterically for the entire trip. (They forget that they can get me to laugh easily.)

Christmas Eve
Time to put up the tree. And decorate it. And attempt to decipher the odd scrawls that my uncle has used to mark the boxes. Usually we just have to open it up to see. No one really figures out "x-mas decpr things." (Well, yes, but who makes a "typo" whilst handwriting something???)

Then comes the battle I've been nervous about. Due to a million and five reasons, I decided to not go to Mass with them this year. I just can't do it this year. Everyone is surprised, but they let it go without really a question. Whew ... instead, A and I finish up the tree, the vacuuming, the skirt under the tree and putting the presents out. I am SO looking forward to opening presents on Christmas Eve like always.

Sadly, I am mistaken.

My favourite Christmas tradition of opening presents on Christmas Eve and then doing Santa stuff on Christmas is dashed. We'll be opening all presents on Christmas day. Ugh.

Christmas Morning
The boys are supposed to be over by 9:30 a.m. They arrive around 10. Then we have to eat breakfast. WTH is wrong with these people????? It's PRESENT TIME!!!! *sigh*

We FINALLY get around to present time. It's utter and complete chaos and cacophony despite the fact that we open presents one person at a time. The crowning moment that most of us have been waiting for, though, comes at the very very very end.

Cousin "Topher" opens a smallish box with a nice, green apple in it. Thinking this is a promise from his family to get him a laptop computer later on when they can get the money together, he acts silly like always. He frantically starts eating 'round the apple, trying to get as much into his mouth as possible.

My aunt and uncle try to get him to stop being silly for a moment (whilst laughing our butts off, all of us), so he can see the new box that's been pushed into the room.

He looks at the sticker from Apple Computers and he honestly does not believe that's what's in the box. My cousin "Teo" and I have done a stellar job of misdirection. (Okay, most of it was Teo. But I helped.)

I thought Topher was going to actually burst into tears. A 15" MacBook Pro. Nicely tricked out with extra RAM and the like. Definitely a happy and very very very grateful boy. Was much fun to see how happy he was. His computer's been dead for a while, and was putting along on hamster power for 2 years before that. When he was sent to another museum to do some research, poor guy had to do everything with paper and pencil because he had no computer to take with him.

Great time was had by all ... Christmas dinner was fabulous as my aunt, in addition to being a stellar academic, is a great great great cook. Mmmmmmmm.

December 26th
I wake up a bit on the early side (again) and wait for A to get up and the boys to come back over again. We're supposed to be leaving at noon.

We get most everything into the car in plenty of time, but my aunt is running around the house, sad, because she can't find their record collection. I was planning on taking some of their records and converting them to CDs for my aunt and uncle for their Christmas present. They finally find them and there is MUCH oohing and awwing over the various titles they have. Some original Beatles pressings. Kingston Trio, TONS of Cat Stevens, Crosby Stills & Nash (& Young).

We finally get this all loaded in the car, directions to the highway back in hand ... and we're off to A's family by noon, as planned.

4 p.m.
We arrive. Exhausted beyond belief at this point. Go in, visit with her sister and her husband, her brother, her cousin, her folks, her aunt. It's a quieter family gathering without my rowdy and beloved cousins there. As an introvert, I am grateful for the quiet whilst missing my cousins terribly, all at the same time.

We eat dinner late-ish and then head into the living room for presents. It seems highly odd to be over at their house without our doggy-wogs, but we didn't have the time to snag them on the way over if we were going to meet up with the aunt and cousin. Again, a good time was had by all, but immediately upon finishing presents and a few minutes of chitchat, I am gathering presents into piles and setting them by the door so we can go soon.

We almost can't get everything into the freaking car.

11 p.m.
Home.

We drag everything into the house, grateful the dogs aren't here for the moment since it is always a hassle to get things in with them underfoot. There are suitcases and bag of loot everywhere. I set up the animals' new pump water bowl. Veg a few minutes in front of the computer ... and it's off to bed.

I would not have missed any of it for the world, but why we had to smash it all into 3 days, I have no idea. Never again will we squish it into 3 days. Never never never.

But I'm glad we did get to everyone this year. Best family visit ever.

Posted by Red Monkey at 9:02 AM | Comments (3) | People Say I Have ADHD, But I Think - Hey Look, A Chicken | TrackBack | Stumble

December 20, 2006

Sad News

Please join me in remembering a great icon of the entertainment community.

The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71. Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch. The grave site was piled high with flours. Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded.

Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times he still was a crusty old man and was considered a positive roll model for millions.

Doughboy is survived by his wife Play Dough, two children, John Dough and Jane Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart.

The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.

If this made you smile for even a brief second, please rise to the occasion and take time to pass it on and share, that smile with someone else who may be having a crumby day and kneads it.

Posted by Red Monkey at 4:31 AM | Comments (13) | People Say I Have ADHD, But I Think - Hey Look, A Chicken | TrackBack | Stumble