Holy crap!

My review is the lead story on Creature Corner!

*thud*

Perma-link: Creature Corner - Your Source for Horror

And for my next trick...

Hey Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat.

I am now attempting to write my review and cook. At the same time. In two different rooms on two different floors.

Help.

UPDATE: SUCCESS.

Check it out, I'm like a buzz bomb.

Yesterday afternoon I got a last-minute invitation to a screening of Lions Gate Films' High Tension. I drank three gallons of water, downed a pot of coffee, and started popping pain killers. That headache was NASTY, but I beat it far enough into submission that I was able to make the drive to Santa Monica. Remarkably, traffic was kind to me. When I arrived, I learned that it was actually a webmasters-only (or, in my case, web reporter) screening, which is the coolest thing I have ever heard of any studio doing in the history of film promotion. They served cocktails, there was a cheese platter, and popcorn, and the movie was really excellent. AND, there was a GOODIE BAG at the end of the evening. I have the coolest keychain on earth, and a couple of other Lions Gate titles on DVD. And a t-shirt, but I could fit three of me in it, so I'm sending it to my Creature Corner boss. (I doubt he is three times my size.)

Now I have to write my review. I'd procrastinate more, but I have this weird work ethic problem.

World (Wide Web) Domination!

My hosting package expires in two or three weeks. I totally thought I had till June. I want a new host but I don't know which one. I want to move this blog to that host and set it up in Word Press or Movable Type (unless there is another system more highly recommended). I want someone to tell me how to make an external style sheet. I want to set up a gallery (possibly using Gallery).

Any volunteers? The main thing is to choose a new host. I have NO MONEY so it can't be too pricey. I would prefer a host that will help me move the site over. The blog thing is secondary. I'm fine on Blogger for now but the longer I wait the more entries I'll have to move over. I have already had this blog for three years.

Oh, I will also need someone to call me every other day and ask me if I have bothered inserting html into the stuff I need to put online. The answer will be no and I will disconnect the phone, but maybe you'll get lucky and I'll do the work anyway.

Wil Wheaton is awesome. And a monkey.

From an audience perspective, I can say that it takes a while to connect with a performer. I could theoretically make a statement from the performance side of it, but I have categorically erased all memories of my acting career.

When Wil Wheaton began reading "Ready or Not, Here I Come," he was on stage and the rest of us were in the audience. I've read the story several times. It was the first thing I ever read at WilWheaton.net and I adore it. It reads better on the page than it did last night, but it isn't like the performance was bad. Call it a warm-up.

As soon as Wil inadvertently announced "Inferno" as a love letter to his wife (he should have been introducing "We Close Our Eyes" that way), the gap narrowed. And by the time he was partway into "The Saga of SpongeBob Vega$Pants (Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Star Trek)" we were no longer separate. We weren't watching him perform. He was reading to us. It's funny, because there was probably more performance in the Star Trek segment. But when he finished reading and walked offstage, there were tears on my face that I saw mirrored when he came out for a bow.

There is a restaurant connected to the ACME, and Will (not Wil) and I went to the bar and had a quick drink. I had a glass of red wine, which was a mistake. It was really dry, I was really thirsty, and I hadn't eaten much. It went straight to my head.

We finished our drinks and got ready to leave. Wil was in the lobby, chatting with a group of people. I sent my Will outside and waited to introduce myself. Wil noticed me standing quietly off to the side (I am not into interruptions) and said, "Hi, I'm Wil." DUH. I collected myself and told him my name, and that I wanted to thank him for the show. He seemed surprised and pleased that I'd watched and I told him I had a good time, and my husband did too, but he was outside because they have the same name which is confusing. Then I told him I was drunk (this is why I shouldn't meet people when I've been drinking - I give WAY too much information), thanked him again, and left.

Wil Wheaton is a good writer, a good performer, and a very nice person. I have loved him since I was 12 years old and watched TNG even though I never gave a damn about Star Trek. He has a nice, firm handshake and I wish he was my friend.

A brief list.

People I admire tremendously and have met while drunk (that is, I was drunk):

• Andrew Bird (aka The Event We Shall Not Speak of)
  
• Wil Wheaton (totally not my fault)

*le sigh*

Dumb and smelly.

So I put in Return of the Jedi and pick up my knitting. I look up and the scroll is halfway gone. Oh no! I think. How will I know what's happening?

Oh.

Boba Fett. What the hell was the big deal?

Also - Chewbacca? A woman.

And I can't help but noticing that I SMELL AWFUL. I'll be getting in the bath soon.

Daddy drinks because you cry.

And I yell because I love you.

Last night I spent an hour or two yelling at one of my dearest friends. He may or may not be speaking to me. I think he is, but I'm not sure why.

I am a fairly creative person with decent ideas, and an excellent writer (most of the drivel on this blog notwithstanding). I spent several years not doing anything about it. Now I am writing freelance for Creature-Corner.com, working on a screenplay with my husband, and developing several other projects, most of them also with my husband. I have an idea that we're going to open a production company one of these days, even though it seems a bit premature to plan it.

Will is an incredibly creative person. I don't know how he can think straight with all the juices (JEWS? SWURGIN!) flowing at such rapid rates through his brain, which is only average sized. Will is a good writer, though the rapidity of thought tends to make him get ahead of himself. He requires editing, but most people do. Luckily, I understand him and can help in that respect. Will reads other people's creative attempts for a living, and is working on the above-mentioned projects with me. He has also created an expanded Deadlands universe that rivals most comic book universes - and I'm talking about the books that have been in publication for 40 years. I am just waiting for him to create a universe from scratch. That day, the universe we live in may collapse.

Then there is Darren, who was Best Man at our wedding. We met him because he was a bartender at a bar Will liked going to, and I liked being brought to. I was only 20, but that isn't Darren's fault. I didn't tell him my age until he came to my 21st birthday party. I won't mention the name of the bar, because they didn't know either. Anyway, that part's irrelevant, and I only mention it because it is interesting how you can meet people and not realize how important they will be in your life.

Darren's brain works at about triple the speed of Will's. It is a miracle, in my opinion, that he doesn't require a straightjacket and heavy medication. This is not hyperbole. I do not understand how anyone can have that many ideas in their head and not go insane. He's amazing. Brilliant. A good writer, an excellent artist. Also good in bed, but that's hearsay.

It is now necessary for me to quote one of my favorite movies, Sullivan's Travels:

John L. Sullivan: Aw, what do they know in Pittsburgh...
Hadrian: They know what they like.
John L. Sullivan: If they knew what they liked, they wouldn't live in Pittsburgh.

Because, you see, there is the problem. Darren lives in Pittsburgh. I've lived there, and it's a pretty nice town, but a guy like Darren is only going to get so far there. He has a couple of good reasons to be there. One is his daughter, but she's 14 now and it seems to me that, since she's an artist too (Darren says she can draw circles around him), it would actually be beneficial to her if he were out here. The other is his girlfriend, Bethany, who reads this blog. (Hi, Bethany!) I've spoken to her on the phone, but never met her. She seems really nice, but she also seems to want to stay in Pittsburgh. So Darren's got this dilemma. And I sympathize and I don't him to do anything dumb like break up with a girl he loves, and anyway I couldn't make him even if I did want to, but he needs to get his ass to Los Angeles. And I'm not just being selfish here - I know he wants to be out here. And, OK, I want him here, and Will does too - we do great work together, us three, and it's much easier to have a brainstorming session if you live less than 2432.6 miles apart.

So, to sum up. I want Darren in Los Angeles. Will wants Darren in Los Angeles. Darren wants Darren in Los Angeles. Darren is in Pittsburgh.

So I took the inadvisable tactic of yelling at him for wasting his creativity and talent and potential. But what else could I do? It seems to me that he's trying to talk himself out of doing what he wants to do, of following his dreams, and I can't just watch that happen and not say anything.

What would you have done?

Where I'll be tonight.

WHERE: The ACME Comedy Theatre, 135 N. La Brea, Hollywood.

WHEN: Tonight, April 27, 8:00.

WHY: Wil Wheaton reading his book, Dancing Barefoot for an audio recording.

MORE INFORMATION: WIL WHEATON dot NET: Where is my mind?: the show must go on

Everyone should go! Wil Wheaton is very cool, the book is very good, and, you know, I will be there.

I swear I'll make a real entry soon.

In the meantime, I stole this from Mgan-Jenn, and totally broke the rules by not answering for her first.

Pick ONE word from each pair that you think describes me the best & leave it in the comments. (Copy/Paste and delete as necessary. Or choose a different method, but that strikes me as simplest.)

Then copy this and post it in your own blog to see how your friends view you. (Or don't. See if I care.)

* dominant or submissive
* logical or intuitive
* social or loner
* kinky or vanilla
* cute or sophisticated
* kitten or puppy
* warm flannel sheets or sleek satin
* leader or follower
* quiet or talkative
* spontaneous or planned
* teddy bear or porcelain doll
* hiking or window shopping
* tequila or vodka
* top or bottom
* bare foot or shoes
* jeans or dress pants
* tender or rough
* aware or dreamy
* nerd or jock

Contest deadline.

You've all forgotten about my totally awesome contest, haven't you?

Well, click on the above link, reacquaint yourself with it, and come up with a few more entries if you like. I will be accepting captions for the picture until Friday, the 29th of April. I will then spend the weekend totally ignoring the internet, and make a hasty and haphazard choice Monday morning, immediately before announcing the lucky winner.

The prize is still to be determined.

In brief.

1. Apologies to Katy. I made it up in a fit of strange temper. I had no idea.

2. We visited the library today and left with 7 Nero Wolfe books.

3. Yesterday, I made a far more interesting visit, to Grauman's theatre to see the Nerds. I had a thoroughly lovely time and will report on it at length later.

4. I am cooking Veal Saltimbocca, garlic risotto, and asparagus for dinner. That is just the main course - there will also be appetizers. So you see, I am busy.

5. I love cows and dislike the way they taste (actually, I have no idea, because I won't try them), but I do cook them because my husband loves to eat them, and, based on his drooling when I suggested tonight's menu, likes them even better when they are babies.

7. Also yesterday I spent four hours in a hair salon and attempted to kill our car. The car survived and my hair is INCREDIBLY FABULOUS.

Another interview!

This one from my own husband. That rascal.

1. You are an alarm clock, and your job is to wake me up: what do you do?
This is a family-friendly site! By which I mean that my mother reads it! So the answer is not fit for printing. But I'll show you later.

2. A vortex opens in the living room while you are knitting on the couch. Two tall Alien Creatures step out and say: "Earth Human Bettie Thing: we are taking all but three of the DVDs from your shelf." Which three do you ask them to leave? Pls note, box sets & series count as single DVDs, cause they are aliens. And weird.
The original Star Wars trilogy. THE ONE WHERE HAN SHOOTS FIRST. If I can count those as a box set, I will also keep:

• Deadwood! Those cocksuckers better not take my Deadwood!
  
• Black Hawk Down because my husband would never get over the loss, and besides, we want these lousy aliens to think highly of our military and therefore shouldn't show them our fuckups.

3. You are going to make a pie for your husband, because he is wonderful and kind and generous and humble. You may NOT make him humble pie. What kind of pie do you make him?
Apple pie.

4. You have a choice: bungie jumping, or skydiving. Proper preperation time is afforded for either. Which do you chose?
Skydiving. There is NO POWER ON THIS EARTH that could make me bungie jump.

5. Leeches. What do you think of leeches?
A sadly underused medical tool. Also good for a laugh. Not fun on your balls.

So, this interview comes from the dreaded LiveJournal. I am supposed to print my answers in my LJ (not going to happen) and then offer to interview anyone who comments asking me to. I'll do that part, but I make no promises about quality of questions, promptness, et cetera. Then you post your answers in your journal and make the same offer. I say that last part is optional - and of course, if you don't have a journal online, you can post your answers in my comments, but I will think you are some kind of technophobe weirdo.

Um.

I have just learned that Trey Parker is aware of the fact that I want to give him a blowjob.

For the record, I have never met Trey Parker.

Did I ever tell you I'm a genius?

I am quite firm in my belief that all an IQ test proves is the taker's ability to, um, take an IQ test.

That said, my score was the second highest in my sixth grade class. The highest score went to my mortal enemy, Jory Serota, who was probably a pretty nice kid now that I think about it. Also, I may be spelling his name wrong. But wouldn't it be cool if I wasn't, and he googles himself? Hi, Jory! We totally went to elementary school together, and you have a slightly higher IQ than I do (I think).

Anyway, my IQ is somewhere in the vicinity of genius. It's not like I'm Rex Stout or something, but I'm not exactly stupid. (Like I said, I don't think an IQ test proves anything worthwhile, but I'm pretty damn smart in other ways too.)

ANYWAY.

One of my favorite debate techniques (and I hope my sarcasm comes through the keyboard here) is when a person just repeats his or her arguments over and over again, rewording them and using bigger, fancier words each time. I AM ON TO YOU PEOPLE. You think you can frighten me away with your two dollar words. You think that I am some shrinking flower who, faced with your obvious intellectual superiority, will give up without ever realizing that your argument is REALLY FUCKING STUPID.

Well, guess what. I know what I'm talking about. You don't seem to have a clue. I know the difference between opinion and fact. And I know, without a doubt, that you should just shut the hell up.

Because picking up the telephone would be too easy

(and anyway I have to go put my laundry in the dryer)

Dear John,

WHERE IS MY STICKY ENTRY, BITCH?

love,
annibettie

Indulge me for a second, please.

I dreamt about you last night
And I fell out of bed twice
You can pin and mount me like a butterfly
But "take me to the haven of your bed"
Was something that you never said
Two lumps, please
You're the bee's knees
But so am I

It starts out irresistibly sexy, switches to sad, and immediately becomes completely incomprehensible (though perhaps not to Morrissey himself).

It reminds me that I am afraid to re-read Jitterbug Perfume because I worry that it won't be as sexy the second time.

Well. Enough of that nonsense.

Spring Fever

I remarked the other day that I am not feeling so dissatisfied with our apartment lately as I have been in the last few months. I am still very, very ready to move, but not to the detriment of day-to-day life.

Will said that perhaps I'd been suffering from Spring Fever. It made sense, but now I believe that the fever is just beginning.

• Domestic Goddess (not me) makes blueberry pie. I would love to spend hours in my kitchen. I require some gnomes to clean up after me (without getting in my way - a tricky proposition).
  
  
• I desire single-purpose cookware.
  
  
• Partially at my suggestion, Jenn recently purchased this bookcase (larger size, darkest color). While I do not want any more IKEA furniture ever, I love the style and it got me thinking about how I'd like to just redo our furnishings. Keep a few beloved pieces and completely start over with everything else.
  
  
• Staying at Will's sister's house a few weeks ago didn't help, since it is essentially our dream home. I am so in love with her house that I didn't even play my usual game of mentally arranging our furniture there (which I do in pretty much every home I visit - if I've been to your place, I have almost certainly envisioned my things there). I did mentally decorate the room we stayed in, but with items we do not own.
  
  
• Also - Nero Wolfe? Bad influence.
  
  
• A new favorite shop to browse.
  
  
• If we may turn our attention briefly to clothes, there are only 2 or 3 blouses I don't care for on this page.
  
  
• On both the clothing and domestic fronts, I am making this thingy as soon as I get to the shop to pick up the yarn. Also, I have to remember to buy circular needles, because I don't have any and there is certainly no way in hell I'd try this on double pointed needles even if I had the right sizes. It will be done in a fabulous (and slightly pricey) multi-color yarn that Will picked. (That is, he picked the color - I chose the yarn itself.)
  
  
• Did I mention that I am really itching to do some home decoration?
  
  
• I am listening to The Smiths. Draw your own conclusions. I will, however, rule out suicidal feelings.

All the advice you'll ever need! Part I.

GUYS! Unsure if a lady likes you - like that? JUST KISS HER.

The trick is to have a beer first. Then, if she totally rejects you and it's way too awkward and you're afraid you'll have to give up her friendship, you can say you were drunk and have NO IDEA what you were thinking!

In a week and a half, she will be totally obsessed with you and heartbroken because you don't like her.

Argh.

I am writing a scene in a screenplay. In the scene, I introduced a new character and then promptly sent him off screen. Now I am having difficulty getting him to come back.

Sometimes I hate writing.

Star Wars nerd update

I expect to make many of these updates over the next few days. Nothing has intrigued me like this in ages. (Except for the ongoing question to which there is no answer: why do cats love people who are severely allergic to them more than they love anyone else?)

1. Apparently all but the nerdiest of the Star Wars nerds are OK with being called nerds.

2. A complete list of blogging.la's coverage.

3. I am totally going to visit the nerds. The mall-type place next door has an Origins store, and I need moisturizer. Plus, I want to hang out with the nerds. The timing of this venture has yet to be determined.

4. I mostly want to visit the nerds because Jessica Stover seems really cool and I want to be just like her.

People are stupid.

Gas prices in Los Angeles are currently betwee $2.65 and $2.80 a gallon. I've heard some mumbled complaints, but most people are just dealing with it. Jenn, for example, is taking public transportation to work. That is an example of not being stupid.

In the past two days I've read, in more than one place, written by separate people, a new complaint. People are pissed off that it costs $30 to fill the tank of their fuel efficient cars. "What is the point of having a fuel efficient car?" they ask.

I will tell you the point, MORON. Your car is fuel efficient. The gas tank is the same size as that of a non fuel efficient car. You fill that gas tank half as often. Therefore, you spend $30 only once a month, and the rest of us fill ours twice a month. So in one month, you still spend half as much money on gas as we do. JUST NOT ON A SINGLE TANK. Please, do not operate a moving vehicle if your brain is missing.

In other news, a group of Star Wars nerds enthusiasts is camped out waiting for ticket sales to open for Revenge of the Sith. This wouldn't be noteworthy except that they're camped out in front of Grauman's Chinese. Episode III is not playing at the Chinese. It's playing at the ArcLight, half a mile down the road. When Grauman's informed the nerds queuers of their error, they opted not to walk down to the correct theater, but to remain in front of Grauman's in protest because that is where they feel the movie should open.

This requires no commentary.

Bethysphere interviews Noirbettie

1) How many states have you visited? (Driving through them counts; having a layover does not.)
28 and a half.
Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky, Illinois, Missouri, Iowa, Nebraska, Wyoming, Utah, Arizona, Nevada, and California. Plus the District of Columbia, which is the half. Italics denote states I have lived in. Oh! It is possible that I've driven through a corner of Colorado. I can't remember, so I'm not counting it.

2) What's your favorite piece of clothing?
Sweat pants, baby. Only they're called "yoga pants" now. I haven't done any yoga in over a year.

3) In your writing, do you find yourself doing most of it on computer or by hand? Do you think there's a difference in how you write depending on the medium?
Lately it's all been computer. For a long time I wrote best by hand. It may be a coincidence, but that's when I was writing short stories almost exclusively. I write by computer for blog entries (obviously, though I have written a few by hand on airplanes and such), screenplays, and lately just about everything else. However, I take notes and do outlines/treatments almost exclusively by hand.
There is a difference, but I'm not certain I can articulate it, beyond the fact that typing tends to be faster (and saves the step of transcribing later).

4) If I showed up on your doorstep today, what kinds of things would we do together? (Not that. Necessarily.)
Well, first I would scream and yell for about three hours because I would be so excited/surprised. Then I'd faint from hunger (yelling burns a lot of calories) and when I came to we'd go to one of my favorite restaurants. Your choice of cuisine. The best places I know are Ethiopian, Indian, Japanese (sushi), Greek, and Mexican. Well, the food at the Mexican place is decent, but the margaritas are killer. Mmmm, margarita. Then we'd get drunk and feel each other up. It is also possible that I'd drive you around and show you some of the cool stuff around town. And I would take you to see the Pacific.

5) What toppings do you not like on pizza?
Any meat. Mushrooms. I have not tried any sweet toppings, because it seems wrong. I only like fresh tomatoes if they're actually, you know, fresh, so I usually avoid them on pizza made by anyone but me.

Contest!

Want to win some fabulously inexpensive and possibly low quality prize?

More importantly, want to make me laugh?

Then I have a challenge for you.

For the next week or so (deadline to be determined - I will announce it when I've decided), I will be taking suggestions for captions to the picture at the bottom of this entry. A few people have asked, and I took the picture.

Will and I will be the judges, and as such disqualified from winning. However, we will almost certainly contribute a few captions anyway.

There is no limit to the number of captions you may submit.

Questions should be emailed to me (annika AT noirbettie DOT com) to keep the comments uncluttered.

Here's the picture, and a caption to get things started:

Will is smiling because he knows that Maynard Thomson could huff and puff and blow his house down.

Have at it!

Is it too soon to start a birthday list?

I mean, I know exactly what I want. And July isn't that far off.

• a house
  
• a dog
  
• a baby
  
• a new computer (Apple notebook)

If April is no good for birthday lists, I can probably wait for this stuff till Christmas. But that's as long as I'm waiting.

high as a kite

Oh dear.

After another stern letter, a couple of threats, and refusing to pay our full rent this month, maintenance showed up this morning to start repairing the water damage to our walls and ceiling.

WOOOOO-EEEE! That stuff's toxic! FUMES! Who needs coffee when they can wake up to the smell of caulk and primer?

I think I should lie down.

Sister Machine Gun of Reasoned Discussions says...

Click this link: JON CARROLL

I am a happy little ducky.

Alternate title: I am so happy, Mindi might puke.

Will and I rarely accomplish much on the weekends. Hell, we rarely accomplish much ever. Today we accomplished many things. We ate good homemade food, watched King Solomon's Mines and Lone Wolf and Cub - Baby Cart To Hades, and we wrote the first 18 pages of the project we've been working on for the last few months. (We've spent all of that time brainstorming, plotting, outlining - making sure we've got it before the actual writing.) I also finished two knitting projects.

I feel So. Damn. Good. And I might puke, but only a little.

P.S. Yay, Min!

I have been secretive about this for so long that you no longer care.

Click here anyway, okay?

How to avoid being totally fucked by Daylight Savings Time

(Unless you live in Arizona or parts of Indiana, you lucky sod.)

Step One: Travel to another time zone. Your trip must include the night the clocks turn forward.

Step Two: Sleep only four hours your first night there, six or so the second, and one the third.

Step Three: Catch a very early morning flight with a lay-over. It is best if you do not sleep well on airplanes.

Step Four: On returning home, have no idea what your name is, let alone what time it is. When you finally figure it out, that hour you lost will mean absolutely nothing to you.