Archive for October, 2010

Halloween Proper

October 31, 2010

Jack O'Lantern

I’m going to work backwards. Tonight, I went to an awesome party with amazing costumes (including an Athena and a picnic table), but I had to cut it short because I was ravaged from the rest of my weekend. Before that, I finally managed to carve my pumpkins while watching the Giants whup some tail.

Earlier in the afternoon, Boonie donned her Supergirl outfit and we headed to Pt. Isabel for some costumed puppy fun. Again, cut it short, but there were awesome costumes. Best of the bunch was my sister’s pitbull Clemmy in a pink tutu.

I woke just before noon. Which was still not enough, since I’d been out until 2ish the night before at the Phenomenauts and Peelander-Z zombie party at the Command Center. Which I again, cut short, because I was wrecked from the Journey, and again, the costumes were amazing. Including a giant paperclip, Cthulhu, a marionette, and a narwhal.

Finally we get back to the reason I’m a broken, broken mess right now. Journey to the End of the Night.
us dressed up as the actors in MetropolisWe were all characters from Metropolis (not counting Jeff, who just went with the era). We were ready to get stealthy.

Unfortunately, we didn’t really need to. It was fun, but not as challenging as last year for some reason. Jeff and I eventually just gave up around checkpoint 4 (we were both idiotically trying to sprint in steel-toed boots), but we had to practically hand our Runner’s tags over to a chaser. They weren’t thick on the ground. I think next year I’ll volunteer to help stage it. Or to chase and terrify Runners. Yeah.



people in costume at the start of Journey

The crowd at Justin Herman Plaza before the starting pistol


There seemed to be a few less people than last year as well, maybe because of the threat of rain that never materialized. There were a few more structural changes that I didn’t love, but it was pretty dang smooth overall, with awesome people behind the scenes making the magic happen. And great costumes. The dude who was the house from Up wins my personal favorite prize.
girls dancingOh yeah, and the reason I was a little weak even before I got to the starting line? A fabulous Halloween party at my place, where the girls (dressed like Johnny and Baby from Dirty Dancing) stuck it out until 3, singing along to the entirety of Rocky Horror.

I am having a hard time even writing with energy today, which is a shame, because in approximately 12 minutes, NaNoWriMo officially kicks off. Oh man. Why can’t all this goodness be spread out throughout the year? I am one tired, happy lady. And so I shall bid you farewell. One more Buffy episode, and it’s off to bed for me.

Jack O'Lantern

Happy Halloween!



Getting close now…

October 30, 2010

Were you aware I had such adorable friends?

K. & R. as Johnny and Baby doing the Dirty Dance. Oh my gosh, they were adorable.

A treatise on trick or treats

October 26, 2010

This month has been rough. Work has been a bit overwhelming, but I can generally handle that. What bothers me is that it is eating into my much loved early fall season, and my valuable pre-Holiday season. And by Holiday, I mean Halloween. As everyone should.

Seriously. I know everyone has a different favorite holiday, but everyone who favors anything outside of October is simply wrong. Christmas may give us a run for our money, true, but Thanksgiving? New Years? Pathetic.

Who would prefer a hippie “thanks for the world” turkey sandwich or a sad excuses to get drunk and kiss someone over COSTUMES and CANDY!?

Maybe my love is just a natural release to my pent up desires from the rest of the year, spent avoiding sugar and wearing t-shirts and jeans. Every now and then, a lady’s got to get glamorous. And when I say glamorous, I mean bloody. Or foppishly Adam Ant-y.

Or maybe it’s natural considering my slightly morbid tastes. I am a horror junkie. My hour-long commute kinda sucked until I discovered Pseudopod. For some reason, gore-filled short fiction read aloud to me really soothes the road rage as people cut me off in the backup to the Bay Bridge. Go figure.

Becky as Bella for halloweenMore than that, I think it’s my pop-culture obsession. I love people that dress like internet memes, or anyone who simply throws on an “I ❤ Toxic Waste” t-shirt. Last year, my favorite costume at my party was the friend who simply wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with a torn-out page of binder paper that said “I love Edward.” So simple. So perfect.

No matter why, I think it’s plain to see that this weekend will be awesome. And I don’t even care to try and understand anyone who thinks differently on the subject. Phlbt. You’re wrong.

Happier at home

October 23, 2010

*sung to the tune of whatever’s in your head*

Days Off!
I have two beautiful days off!
It’s been sooooo long!

Now what shall I do…..

*end joyful singing*

Of course, I have 3 weeks worth of personal life that has been piling up that I should probably deal with. Laundry. A long doggy hike. Remembering I have friends and sisters. But more importantly, Halloween! I still don’t have my costume! So, so wrong!

That’s it, I’m inspired. I’m off to the dog park, followed by the Halloween store for a blond wig, followed by a thrift store stop for 80s clothes. Woot!

Then it’s back home to carve my pumpkin, put the finishing touches on the house decorations, and call myself ready for Halloween. I was researching advent wreathes today, apropos of nothing, but I decided that next year I’m going to create a Halloween advent wreath. With black twigs and candles with little bats on them.

Happy at home

October 18, 2010

Nate Concentrating, originally uploaded by jujuwiz.

There is absolutely nothing like flannel pj’s, coffee, and a warm dog.

That’s how I feel this morning, anyway. Last night the pj’s were the only thing keeping me warm, since the stupid dog peed on my comforter, and there wasn’t enough coffee in the world to keep my eyes pried open past 8:30.

But that’s in the past. Now my home is nice and toasty and welcoming.

Speaking of toasty… I don’t even remember taking this series of photos at my last game night. Apparently after “Ticket to Ride,” Nate decided to erect a beer bottle tower. He was quite good. Even incorporated the hourglass timer.

Lost on the interwebs

October 15, 2010

Woke up at 3:30. Tried in vain to distract my brain from work lists and jump back into dreamland for half an hour. Then I gave up. Thank you, StumbleUpon, for saving my brain, if not for granting me sleep.

Now it’s 6:30. Late enough to head into work and get cranking. One more day to our big event! After that, it’s only the normal crazy deadlines stressing me out. Plus my jury duty summons. Yay.

Still trying to find time to think about my halloween costume, though! Leaning towards the simple worker for our Metropolis theme on the 30th, but I have no ideas for the parties on the 29th or 31st. Musician… I think Tom Waits is already claimed by like 3 people, as is Bowie. I did Adam Ant a coupla years ago. Lucinda Williams? She’s not terribly iconic, but I bet I could pull it off. Maybe Patsy Cline. Ooo, yeah, or Connie Francis? Jack White?

Maybe I’ll wait to make this decision on more than 3 hours of sleep.

Stuck in the heat

October 12, 2010

Oh man, am I jealous. Sister Rachael is gallivanting about NY and staying in the cutest hotel ever. I have not traveled in so, so long. In fact, I keep doing things that are pretty much the opposite of traveling. Sinking roots deep into the ground. Signing long-term leases. Buying fancy beds. Purchasing a niche.

Oh yes, you heard me right. Spot F16 on the 3rd floor of the SF Columbarium is now mine. I do, in fact, own a tiny bit of San Francisco. Though it’s truly, truly tiny. And I’ll only get to live there when I’m dead.

I feel insane. It’s not like I’m rolling in the money right now. She just called me at precisely the right time. Plans to move to the city had just fallen through, so I had a tidy little security deposit that I was able to roll into a down payment. They only have a handful of spaces left; within a year or two I’m certain that they’ll even run out of room to add-on. It just made sense.

And it really is the place I’d like to spend my hereafter.

I’m a bit of a ghoul. I’ve been around the country, and have probably visited a graveyard, cemetery, or columbarium in each state, and I’ve never found one like this. A culture has developed in this space, a pretty uniquely San Francisco culture, and the personality of each person just oozes… okay, that’s the wrong word to use for a house of the dead.

Whatever. I’m happy to have snagged that spot. I’m not going to have kids. While I’d love to write the Great American Novel, it’s probably not going to happen. My name will not go down in history for having invented Borax, or splitting the atom, or becoming the first lady president of the United States. But you know what? A tiny little hidden niche crammed full of oddities, in the center of the city that I’ve loved to call home? (Oakland’s awesome, but I’m sorry, I was born on the wrong side of the bay.) That’s exactly my type of legacy.

Now comes the truly hard part. What to fill it with before I’m in there? I think I’ll have a good 30 years or more, so I’ll be able to change it periodically. In fact, I may start an annual niche-decorating/ghoulish dinner party tradition.

What would you put in yours?

(speaking of yours, the spots on either side of me are still open… Can’t you just picture the decorating contests we could get into? I’ll put a live goldfish in a wee bowl in mine; you’ll one-up me by filling the entire space with water.)

Nope, no energy yet

October 9, 2010

It’s not even 4 in the afternoon, and my eyelids are drifting shut.

After a wonderful RWA meeting in the morning, I grabbed a quick bite, picked up my buddy, and went furniture shopping. Three stops, one delivery, and two bridge crossings later, I’m back at home, but my mind can’t rest. I think I’m skipping all the awesome concerts today (sorry Lala!) due to the scratchiness in my throat, but also because I just want to sit at home and think about Halloween.

I don’t have the energy to tell you how much I love Halloween. I’ll have to tell you later. In the meantime, I’m tiredly dreaming about decorating the house with Bucky skeleton bits, pumpkin carving this week, and green, smoking drinks.

The entire Carnival Sideshow last year at my Halloween party

In the Park

October 4, 2010

Patti Smith 6, originally uploaded by jujuwiz.

I wanted to write a nice, long, happy post. That’s not going to happen. The calm that I found this weekend has dissipated, within hours of getting to work.

What I need is a flipping vacation. And a valium.

Until then, please appreciate this photo of the super-awesome Patti Smith, along with the knowledge that her concert was almost a religious experience. Seriously. On a level with seeing Leonard Cohen. Thank you, Patti.

On the field. Any field.

October 2, 2010

“Sport,” unless it was used in a wry, british way, was pretty much a bad word in the house I grew up in. We were slightly roly-poly bookworms, and while swimming and walking around the lake were seen as sensible forms of exercise, jogging was looked at with suspicion, and organized sports just outright flummoxed us.

I’m not sure how three sport fans emerged from that. I remember illicitly sneaking down to the family room on Sundays to ogle Steve Young and cheer on the ‘niners, but I was always cheering to an empty room. I moved on to baseball, and hid my interest like the bad habit I was sure it actually was.

(On a sidenote, don’t  Google “Steve Young fan art beefcake” with your safesearch off. You won’t like what you find. Or maybe you will, but you’ll be disappointed it’s not THAT Steve Young.)

Rachael, Christy, and I each took separate, solitary paths to fandom, and each of us favor a different sport for that reason. Rachael has gone through some hardcore football fan seasons, and still likes to sneak the games into the family Tivo. Christy adores basketball and can recite the lineup for the Warriors for the past 4 years. And I love me my Giants.

Baseball is simply the perfectly paced sport. Enough downtime to chat with your friends, grab a beer, figure out a particularly intricate bit in your knit shawl pattern (stitch ‘n’ pitches rock!), and still look up to catch the awesome parts. Of which there are many. It’s not like football, where there are long periods of inactivity, followed by a brief, confusing hustle that often leaves the team right back where they started. In baseball, balls are flying, people are running, things are happening!

I’m a patchy fan, but this year I’ve been following it more closely than usual. All thanks to the McCovey Chronicles. If you aren’t reading this blog, you should be. The snark, the pop-culture references, the Buster Posey love (C’mon. He’s a nimble pitcher and catcher and slugger who happens to be named Buster Posey. He’s like apple pie and Norman Rockwell and 50s pin-up models in baseball jerseys… How can you not love?). Even if you know nothing of baseball, Grant and this beautiful blog is brilliant.

From back in September when the torture that was Giants Love was in full swing:
“I’m worried that Tim Lincecum will regress. I’m worried that Pablo Sandoval will regress even further. I’m worried that Aubrey Huff really is Aubrey Huff, and that he’s not in the final act of some zany ‘80s brains-switching-bodies movie with Todd Helton. I’m worried that the bullpen is going to be worked too hard. I’m worried that the starters are going to be worked too hard. I’m worried that Buster Posey is going to be worked too hard. I’m worried that giving Posey a day off will somehow cost the Giants a playoff spot. I’m worried that Jose Guillen will get his watch band caught on his hat when trying to field the last out of a game in Coors Field. I’m worried that my wife wants my beard to be as full and creepily dark as Brian Wilson’s, which will raise even more questions about my masculinity. I’m worried that Andres Torres will come back, only to have his table of contents rupture. I’m worried that the Pacific isn’t as blue as it’s been in my dreams…”

Thanks to the McCovey Chronicles, this year I don’t feel like a fair-weather fan, but I do admit my interest ramps up when we’re this close. Whose wouldn’t? It’s like seeing your favorite band make it big. Maybe you didn’t go to the tiny, local venues they played often enough. Maybe you only saw them at Bottom of the Hill one time out of ten. But as soon as they’re playing Shoreline, you claim them as your own, and buy every album they put out. Even the crappy live ones.

So, Giants. I love you. Last night was like that 10 minute jam that you somehow felt your fans expected to find on your Live at AT&T Park album, with really good bits mixed in with boring and semi-soul-sucking bits. It’s all good. We love you for what you’ve done, and what you will do.

Specifically, what you will do today. Let’s clinch it! Let’s see everything you’ve learned this year flow into a beautiful, harmonious… phbt, enough with the metaphor. Beat those smug San Diego beachboys!

Let’s go, Giants!!