About a year ago I remember hearing “Human” on the radio and thinking to myself, “wow that singer’s voice is amazing.” And then I began crying. While driving. That was not a great idea. I really don’t know how I didn’t investigate a little more. So today I finally bought Chisitina Perri’s albums and I’m stunned. Tears. Her voice is so beautiful and strong and penetrating. I have a new favorite to add my list of amazing female vocalists.
I still cannot stop laughing. Last night I couldn’t sleep. There was too much funny stuff on the internet that was making me laugh and laugh and laugh. Finally, after I put the phone down, I started to drift off to sleep and was having a sleeping-pill induced dream about needing to keep this one door shut with twine, but I had to build a really fancy slipknot with the twine to slip over the door handle while it kept banging open and shut in the wind but when I got the silverware drawer out so I could get a knife to cut the twine all we had were spoons and I started laughing in my dream so hard and then that made me start giggling while asleep in real life really loudly and I woke myself up laughing and laughing and laughing. You get the humor right? It’s like 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife. I died. And then kept laughing. Dying Laughing. My dream had become a song from my favorite singer of all time. And I’m still giggling about it this morning. But then…
When I fell back asleep I had a sex dream with a half human/half lion. Yeah basically I had a sex dream about Lion-O from the Thundercats. And it was hot. And I’m a nerd. The end.
Little known fact. The Sound of Music is one of my all-time favorite movies. I’ve watched it on the order of 100 times or more. So much so that for years at 43 Norfolk Dre, James, and I would sing these lyrics to each other when we went to bed (to the dismay of our other 6 roommates):
So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu
Adieu, adieu, to yieu and yieu and yieu
Do do do do do do, do do do do do
So long, farewell, au revoir, auf wiedersehen
I’d like to stay and taste my first champagne
Do do do do do do
Lady Gaga did a damn fine job last night, tho I still think we gave her a run for her money all those years ago in our warehouse…
Techie friends: I have a serious problem and I really need your help. Last night I ate an entire share size box of Junior Mints. And by share size, I mean I shared them with me myself and my belly while I watched TV all night. But here’s the thing: I didn’t want Junior Mints. What I really I wanted was a slice of German chocolate cake and a ginger ale. But it was late and I was already in my pajamas and the store is so very far away. So techie friends here’s what I’d like your help with. Remember Tacocopter? Yeah, like that. But for cake. So I really need you to invent the CakeCopter: Drones that fly cake to me at any time of the day or night. I don’t even need variety. Just preload that shit with some German chocolate goodness and deliver it to me on the daily and I’ll be a happy customer and your new best friend. I’ll even be your first Kickstarter contributor. Ready. Set. Cake!
I first heard Liza Flume’s voice speak to me across the emotional expanse while I was at Burning Man last year. I was out dancing around with some friends when one of our DJ friends played the following remix. The lyrics were the perfect catalyst for reflection on my (at the time) recent breakup.
Then I heard the original version with Liza’s voice more isolated and it devastated me with its beauty. I still listen to it weekly.
And then today I discovered her song Poison. And again, I’m floored. I love her, her voice, her lyrics, her contemplation of relationships, her everything.
I love this review (which contains only mild spoilers). And this reviewer’s biggest criticism is basically the same thing I said to James as soon as we walked out of the theater:
“If I had to critique this movie in any sort of, you know, actual way (beyond ‘it was a hot-ass mess’), I would say that I do wish the film had been a little less caught up in the traditional model of princess-saving. When I hear ‘Mila Kunis black leather space princess,’ I want to see her bulked the hell up, Emily Blunt style, kicking ass and taking names. We don’t get to see Kunis looking really cool until the very end of the film, at which point I wanted way more of that. Which, I guess, means I would pay for a sequel.”
I’ve loved running my whole life. The feeling of the wind hitting my face during my jogs and sprints is invigorating. One particular side-effect of being a runner is the enhancements it provides to the gluteus muscles. Yep. Runner’s butt.
During my freshman high school Track season, our uniforms consisted of the tiniest little green running shorts over the top of black spandex shorts. We’d often only wear the green running shorts during races. When we had home meets my friends would see me walking around in my skin-tight spandex and they took notice of the excessive curves I was rocking in my backside. And obviously, as teenagers do, they made it a meme.
This was also around the time that Sir Mix-a-lot’s famous song about big ol’ booties was popular on the radio. Immediately my nickname became “Baby Got Back,” and also sometimes, “Becky,” as in, “oh my god, Becky, look at her butt.”
By sophomore year we conceptually leapt across genres to the Beatles song Get Back (which is linguistically somewhat close to Got Back). That song features two characters: JoJo and Loretta. I have no idea why I didn’t get to be JoJo. But I didn’t. Instead my nickname became Loretta. Probably because it had already been Becky, so it made perfect sense to swap it out for another lady’s name.
So yes, my butt is a thing. A big thing. A source of nicknames. Of song attributions. Of humor and jokes. A spectacle in shiny leggings. A reason why jeans never fit. And while I was once embarrassed and even a little ashamed, I now love my gargantuan posterior.
Up until that point I’d been a pretty big Superman devotee. Back then Superman was the All-American Hero. Incorruptible. Kind. And often only conquered or defeated when his love for and need to protect others was used against him. I admired these traits as a little kid. I watched Super Friends religiously every morning before school. I was five and in kindergarten when one day as I was watching an episode of Super Friends my life changed forever.
There’s this one episode in which Superman and Green Lantern must merge together (I know, super gay, right?), in order to create the universe’s most powerful weapon and defeat some big bad villain. In that moment, the power of the Green Lantern was revealed. My eyes were opened. And a life long obsession began.
Many things appeal to me about Green Lantern. His bravery. His strength of character. His will power. All things that make him a powerful wielder of the green light. (And Kyle Rayner = mega swoon.) But as I’ve gotten (much) older and my love of GL remains as strong as ever, I’ve realized it goes beyond these personality traits.
There’s something really compelling about how he taps into a great source of power, bends it using his imagination, and forms impressive creations. It might sound like a bit of stretch, but I sometimes like to think of my career in word-making this way. I tap into this huge source of words, letters, metaphors, and concepts, I imagine how they could be rearranged, what things could look like if we stretch our thinking, and then I form an interesting new twist on a word or concept to breathe life into a product or company.
Certainly not all of my naming projects are this exciting and creative. But some of them are. And those are the most rewarding and the ones that make me feel closest to my childhood idol.
When I was a little kid my favorite stuffed toy was Todd the fox from Disney’s Fox and the Hound (which is still one of my favorite movies of all time because it’s about friendship and love that transcends cultural and racial differences that we are taught as we grow up, and I still cry when Big Momma sings “Best of Friends” and when Copper saves Todd from being shot at the end). I carried my best friend Todd, *everywhere* I went as a kid. My Dad had built us these really awesome play houses and a tree house (two of the houses were on top of these massive boulders and one was literally way up in a tree and they were all connected by ramps and stairs with guardrails and everything!). My sister and I played out there ALL the time. One day I took Todd out for our daily adventures but then accidentally left him in one of the forts overnight. When I woke up I was freaking out that I couldn’t find him. As we walked outside we found him maimed on the back lawn — the dogs had discovered him and chewed off one of his ears. I was devastated.
Moral of the story: Don’t be careless with your toys and don’t leave your toys outside. If you show up late to our party on Friday night you and your fellow misfit toys might just be required to wait outside while the bouncers do their crowd control duty (it’s going to be a very crowded event). I’m just trying to prevent you from suffering the same toy-related the pain I suffered those many years ago. Come play with us, our toys, your toys, and everyone’s toys, but do it on EARLY side of things.
Also, after browsing through Google images, I’m just now realizing after all these years that Todd was totally the bottom.
Most of the time I drive Jean Luc (yes, my car has a name, and yes it’s named after Jean Luc Picard) around this congested city like I’m in a combination game of Frogger and Tetris. Zipping in and out of the constantly changing road landscape, neatly fitting into tight spots. Occasionally, as many of you know, I throw in a touch of Speed Racer as I see a series of openings down the road and slam my foot down and my very sporty engine catapults me in-and-out of cars, to the front of the pack.
Lately, in my mind’s eye I’ve been imagining a touch of Mario Kart seeping into the equation. I mean, I would *never* get aggressive or violent on the road or cause any damage or harm. I’m not a roadrager. Not outwardly, anyway. But sometimes people just do the dumbest things. I take it back, not sometimes… Every. Damn. Day. Let’s get real. Driving is like a game of chess. I’m generally looking six, eight, ten moves ahead. “Ok, I need turn left a few blocks from now, I should probably start looking to get over into the left lane. Except that there are always delivery trucks blocking the left lane on this upcoming block, so I’ll cut over just after those and be in the right place at the right time.” Which apparently is not how my oh-so-attentive road mates think about things, “Oh I need to turn left RIGHT NOW but I’m in the far right lane at the intersection. Ok, might as well go for it and cut across three lanes of moving traffic. Oops my bad. Sorrrries.”
Did they forget? Not care? Enjoy inflicting momentary dread into the hearts of dozens of other drivers? Enjoy hearing the sound of brakes squealing? It seems most of them aren’t even looking at the one move directly ahead of them on this chess board of city driving. Probably because they’re too busy texting, talking, or picking their nose (no judgment, but if you can’t pick your nose and drive at the same time, save the green-gold excavation for when you’re not wielding several tons of metal around innocent bystanders).
Oooooooh! Speaking of chess, this gives me an even better daydream. Instead of Mario Kart, it would be so badass if driving were more like that awesome game of Wizard’s Chess that Ron, Hermonie, and Harry had to play in the Sorcerer’s Stone. The one where the pieces would smash into each other and destroy each other… where the Knight slices the other piece in half. Oh damn. That would be SO. MUCH. FUN. “Siri: How much would it cost to install a giant metal-slashing saber on the front of my car…? No, Siri. I’m not trying to buy a used Buick LeSabre. Sigh.”
Which reminds me. I’m terrible at chess. So maybe I’ll just stick to driving. And daydreaming about Mario Kart instead.
I’m wearing the first pair of my Socrates socks today. (Yesterday’s post explains it all.) So far, they’re comfy, haven’t slipped an inch down my leg, and are super cute. And because you were wondering, that’s my left calf in the picture because I’m pretty sure he’s more photogenic than his right-sided brother. That is all.
It’s nice to be reminded that the good things happen in the universe.
Years ago I funded a Kickstarter at maximum level because: a) it was for new socks that were super awesome (they don’t wear out, they’re made of kevlar fabric, made from army/navy technology, they don’t slip down your leg, etc.), and b) the name was freaking awesome: Socrates. I mean, come on guys… Socrates. The smarter sock?!?! That name alone was worth the full funding level. Naming geeks like me get off on this kind of stuff!
So anyway, they had some trouble with the kevlar, had to find new fabrics, reengineered the socks, etc., and the dude updated all of us constantly on where they were in the production process over the years. Late last year they started fulfilling orders, but I had already moved. I tried logging into Kickstarter to update my address to no avail. I mostly gave up and hoped that mail forwarding would work.
Then on January 1st my mail forwarding expired and an email update arrived stating that the last shipment of socks was being shipped. I tried to login to Kickstarter one last time with no luck. Oh well, I figured I’d happily sacrifice my hundreds of dollars in the name of better consumer technologies and a brilliant brand name.
Then last night. I get home. A package awaits. Nondescript. Mail-fowarding. Soft. Squishy. I open it up. My socks! Purple. Teal. Grey. Blue. Black. Fuck yeah!