Forget Fracking – It's Time for Pre-School Power!

Happy April Fool's Day.  In celebration, I am participating in the Pittsburgh Guest Blogger Event! Today’s post comes from Valentine Brkich of Small-Town Dad, and is part of a special day of shenanigans from other Pittsburgh Bloggers. You can see my post over on West of Mars, where I am talking about how my parents helped me love books, and how my birthday wish is to pass that love of books on to the children in my community.

It’s all over the news. Marcellus shale. “Fracking.” The booming natural gas and oil industries. Western PA is on the verge of an energy revolution, one that could bring in billions of dollars to the local economy. The thing is, not everyone’s convinced it’s safe for our environment. I have another solution to our energy problems. And it’s one that doesn’t involve digging or fracking or any of that stuff: my 4-year-old son.

The boy is a walking, talking, limitless source of clean, renewable energy. I know this because from the moment he opens his eyes in the morning until he falls asleep at night he’s hopping, skipping, jumping, rolling, running, bouncing, bounding, climbing, crawling, stomping, sliding, and shuffling all over God’s creation. And best of all, other than the occasional toot or burp, there’s little or no harmful emissions.

Even when he’s sitting, like at the dinner table, my son is incapable of stillness. He constantly shuffles around in his seat, switching from his bum to his knees to his feet and back again. One second he's in his chair, the next he’s on my lap, or on top of the table, or underneath it. Ironically, the only thing he’s not doing is eating.

Bedtime is the only time we can get the kid to stop moving, and we usually have to put him down with a tranquilizer gun. Just kidding! We don’t even own a tranquilizer gun.

NyQuil works just fine.

What’s funny is I used to have energy like that myself. No matter how much I ran or how far I rode my BMX, I always wanted to keep moving and playing. I’d never tired. Now, by the end of the day I’m completely drained, even though all I did was sit on my tuckus all day, first in my car, then at work, then in my car again, then at dinner, and afterwards in front of the tube.

I guess Newton was right: An object in motion tends to stay in motion, while an object at rest tends to fall asleep on the couch around 8:30.

If there was some way to harness my son’s youthful exuberance, we could forget about all this fracking nonsense and instead tap into his seemingly endless supply of preschool power. Of course we’d want to make sure to only use his excess energy for good. Otherwise the results could be disastrous. Those of you who’ve seen my living room know what I mean.

A simple solution would be to construct some sort of kid-sized hamster wheel that produced electricity. But then, of course, we’d have to find a place to put it, and I’m a little foggy on the laws as far as child-powered electric generators go.

If only I could invent some type of synthetic fabric that captures kinetic energy and stores it for later use! I could come out with a whole line of kiddie clothing for over-active kids like my son. Think about it: At the end of the day you’d just take off your kid’s pants, plug them into some device that would extract all the stored up energy, and then use that energy to power all the lights in your home.

Or, in our case, every household in our zip code.

But alas, I’m just a lowly writer. I’ll have leave it to some electrical engineer to devise a way to capture my son’s excess energy before he burns it all up and grows into another lazy, unmotivated, energy-deficient adult.

Not that I know anyone like that. ~

Written by Valentine J. Brkich. You can read more nonsense like this over at this blog, smalltowndad.com.

Cartoons by Hubby: Cyber Monday

The Backstory:
It is Cyber Monday, the big day of online holiday bargains.  My email has been bombarded since 4 am with bargains and deals, which is awesome, except... my shopping is done.  So, thanks but no thanks.

Early this morning, I posted these sentiments on Facebook, and less than an hour later, I got this amazing cartoon from Hubby.  For those who do not know, it is an homage to Doctor Who.

You're Welcome.

Nearly 4 Years Later

How do you feel about the first blog post you ever wrote?

Sadly, I do not remember the very first blog post I EVER wrote.  This is because it was back when I had a MySpace page.  I blogged on there for a long time, mostly about my love life, but when I deleted that page, all those posts were lost in the shadowy passages of the internets.

So, instead, I will reflect on my first post on this particular blog.  I will wait a moment while you read it...you are back?  OK.

Basically, I feel like this is almost identical to a post I would write now.  I write blogs along these lines all the time.  The post features a discussion with my husband, and showcases his quirky sense of humor.  Anyone who reads this blog often had heard me talk a lot about my husband, and has seen many an example of his hilarity.  I can already imagine that particular discussion playing out.  I probably said "this is so ridiculous, I need to tell someone else about it".  At which point I was inspired to start a blog.

We will still have ridiculous conversations like that.  And I still share a lot of those moments online.  The phrase "you need to tweet that" is said several times a week.

Still, a LOT has changed since that first post.  First off, this is what we looked like in February 2010.

We. Were. Babies!  We look so different.  Not better, not worse.  Just different.  My hair color, length, and style has changed probably 20 times since then (no joke).   (And WHAT is up with those eyebrows, geesh?) Hubby has grown a full, lush beard, and more than a few additional grey hairs.

When that post was written, we had just adopted or puppy, Dexter.  Now we have two adorable, grown up dogs.  We had been married less than 6 months, and I was adjusting to my new role of full time housewife.  Since then I have had a couple of part time jobs, and I just started a new one.  But I still relish being a housewife.

Since that time, we have helped family and friends through struggles, and they have helped us through some of our own.  We have become active within our community.  We have taken trips.  We have remodeled our home.  We have filled the subsequent years with love, and laughter.  The same love and laughter that is reflected in that very first post.

The Play's The Thing

Do you play in your daily life? What says “playtime” to you?

Play.  Such a small word for what it signifies for me.  For me, to play means to have time when you are not taking life so seriously, to flex your creative muscles, to challenge conventions.  I aim to do this daily, and honestly, it is one of the main ways I spend my time.

I play with my food.  Not in the way you are thinking, like making a chicken dance or something.  Ok, sometimes I play with my food that way.  But mostly, I play with food by creating new recipes.  I play with flavors, seasonings, textures, colors.  If I were a mad scientist, my laboratory would be a gigantic kitchen.  I tweak and adjust existing recipes, and create new ones.  I just love to play with my food.

I play with my looks.  Anyone who has known me for longer than 2 months is likely to have seen me with at least 2 different hair colors.  I change my hair color and style frequently.  I go on binges where I paint my nails in unusual ways.  I play with clothing and accessories.  For me, every day is a chance to play dress up.

I play with my dogs.  Not a day goes by that I do not play with the dogs in some manner.  This past summer, the dogs learned to play fetch.  Soon they will get to play in the snow.  We play rough, chasing games, we play snuggle games, we make them dance, we pretend they can talk, we occasionally dress them up for photo shoots.  Our dogs are like living, licking, wriggling stuffed animals.

I play with toys.  Sure, maybe I no longer play with Barbies or Lincoln Logs, but I still play with toys.  We have more video and computer games in this house than I ever expected we would.  We play board games.  We play puzzle games.  We fiddle with smart phones, tablets, computers, cameras, GPS units, we purchase actual toys.  We are big kids at heart and I love it.

I play with words.  That is what this blog is.  In all the time I have been blogging, it has never stopped being fun.  I hope it never does.

I play with conventions.  People think they know me.  They have no idea.  Hubby used to say I was a mystery wrapped in an enigma, held together with duck tape and macrame.  I think it is one of my favorite compliments ever.  I hope I always keep people guessing.

So, what does play mean to me?  Well, to steal a line from Shakespeare, and totally reinterpret it, the play's the thing.  For me, play equals life.  I hope my life is always full of play, because when I am playing, I am really, really living.

My Interview with Rich Uncle Pennybags

Interview someone — a friend, another blogger, your mother, the mailman — and write a post based on their responses.

So, yeah, I am sick today and confined to home, and no one is online for me to interview (being that it is Saturday and most people have lives).  My only alternative was to interview Hubby, but that is too boring, so I had him channel one of his favorite board game characters, Rich Uncle Pennybags.

He was quick to inform me that he does have a real name.  His given Christian name is Milburn Pennybags, but he never aspired to be a monopolist.  He actually wanted to be a dentist, but would YOU go to Doctor Pennybags for a root canal?  Not likely.  So, just like girls named Destinee Peaks, his future was decided for him, all based on his name.

Because he is awfully fond of that get out of jail free card, I asked about his first run in with the law.  As a scrappy young teenager, he stumbled upon some fellows wildly fond of  a newly marketed licorice candy, known as the Lick Whip.  The only problem was, it was in short supply.  Milburn promised the fellows he could obtain it for a modest investment fee.  In truth, he had no supplier, and no way to supply; but as word spread that Milburn had connections, new investors would throw money at him.  Whenever an investor complained that the product was never delivered, he simply used a new investor's money to pay off the complainant. Fortune smiled upon him when the local mercantile got in a shipment and Milburn was able to deliver to his remaining investors while making a mint.  His luck ended when the constable caught wind of the scheme.  Good ole Officer Ponzi.

Pennybags says that his favorite gameplay token is the racecar.  He claims there is something exciting and freeing about being on the open road.  Also, it reminds him of the time when he had a midlife crisis, left his wife Madge, bought a Ferrari and struck out on Route 66.  He met a buxom redhead along the trip, and traveled with her for a while.  Good thing he had one of those get out of jail free cards in the glove compartment, since the little lady lied about her age.  Ah, memories.

When talking about the shaky housing market and government bailouts, he states that "bailouts are for chumps and the weak.  It is all well and good when building houses on Pennsylvania Avenue, but when I saw hotels going up on Boardwalk, I knew it was too big to fail."  And that is just not how he rolls.  Literally.

As far as the future is concerned, Milburn is looking forward to retirement.  He says he will live out the rest of his days with his scottie dog, Stocks, and his cat, Bonds, in a nice little senior living community up in Marvin Gardens.

Bad Habits and Flaws, According to Hubby

If you could quit one bad habit instantly without difficulty, which would it be?

I will admit that I had a hard time with this one.  It is not that I do not think I have no bad habits; I have tons of bad habits.  But I actually kind of enjoy most of them.  I swear.  I eat ice cream for dinner sometimes.  I am usually in the progress of reading 4-6 different books.  I push my favorite band on anyone who will listen. Even the bad habits that I do not enjoy per se are still not ones that I really care if they stop or not.  Things like leaving too many shoes in the entryway, letting junk mail accumulate, never really having all my clean clothes put away.  To me, these things are minor.  I just have so many other things I would rather be doing than worrying about these minor bad habits.

So, in order to fulfill this writing exercise, I enlisted the help of Hubby.  I asked him to make me a list of my 5 worst bad habits or flaws.  This is the list he gave me.

First off, there are only 4.  He said that is all he could think of.  How sweet is that?  That, right there, is a sign of unconditional, true love.  And let's take a look at the 4 he came up with.

Doesn't give herself enough credit for creativity and should start writing.
I have been saying for years that I wanted to write a book.  And for years, people have been telling me I should write a book, maybe multiple books.  And I really want to.  But I am too scared to take the leap.  What if I am terrible?  What if people hate what I write?  What if no one buys it?  What if I try, and I just cannot.  So, I continue to put it off.

Watches too much Snapped.
I love the show Snapped, from the Oxygen Channel.  It is about some women going totally off of their beanpoles and killing people, typically the men in their lives.  The show creeps Hubby out, and he hates when I watch marathons of it.

Puts mushrooms in too many things.
I literally laughed out loud when I read this one.  You see, Hubby hates mushrooms.  I love them.  And I am the one who does all the cooking.  I think I have made it my secret quest to get Hubby to like them, so I tend to slip them into a lot of things I cook.  Sometimes I try to do it secretly and see if he notices (he always does).  He always says he does not care, and is willing to pick them out, but he must care a little bit, since this made the list.

Enables weiner dogs.
This is one we are both guilty of.  We have 2 dachshunds, and we spoil them silly.  As I am typing this, the dogs are snuggled into bed with me.

So, since these are my options, I think the thing I would most like to change is the first one.  I wish I did have more confidence in myself, and my ability to write something of quality.  I wish I had no fear.  I wish I could just sit down and pour my heart and soul into the screen.  Maybe someday I will.

Still, if these are what Hubby considers my worst bad habits and flaws, I must be doing ok in life.

Tiffany Trivia: Pittsburgh Edition

Write about whatever you'd like, but write using regional slang, your dialect, or in your accent.

Today, I decided to kill a few birds with one stone.  I am writing to the prompt, reviving an old series from the blog (Tiffany Trivia), and addressing the "random facts about me" meme that is storming facebook.  Thanks for indulging me.

As a kid, growing up in the Ohio Valley, Pittsburgh was our closest local city, so I really considered myself a 'burgh girl long before I moved there.  I grew up saying y'inz and eating chipped ham sandwiches.  Plenty of my friends lived by the crick.  And even my small little town had its share of jagoffs.

So, it really should have come to no surprise that I ended up living in Pittsburgh for several years.  Even though I do not technically live in the burgh now, I still live close enough to visit often.  Today, I am going to take time to remember all my favorite things in Pittsburgh, and to discuss the quintessential Pittsburgh things that just do not click with me.  Pardon me if I slip into Pittsburghese now and then.

When many people think Pittsburgh, they think about watching the Stillers and eatin a Primanti's sammich.  Here is a little secret about me: I do not really like either of those Pittsburgh icons.  I know, I know, I should turn in my burgher card now.  Do not get me wrong, I do not HATE the Steelers, I just really do not care about football that much.  I also do not HATE Primanti's.  I just do not their coleslaw that much.  If I were going to do a Pittsburgh sports and dinner date night, it would be watchin da Pens and eatin a corned beef sammich from Sammy's.

Taking the incline up Mount Washington is always a fun burgh activity.  The view is gorgeous, a great place to take pictures.  But my favorite place ta look down on the city is the West End Overlook.  I used ta go there a lot when I lived there, and there would hardly ever be anyone there.  It was always a nice quiet place to go and reconnect with the world around me.  A close second is the view as you cross the Veteran's Bridge.  But usually I am goin to fast to enjoy it too long.

Everyone in Pittsburgh, at least the Sahth Hills where I lived, loves Fiori's pizza.  I admit, I have never eaten it.  Instead my favorite pizza place was The Pizza Company down in Castle Shannon.  Best breadsticks and wings ever.  That is one of the few places that actually tempts me to eat gluten.

Most burghs, at some point in their lives, spent some time carousing in the SahSide.  I never really cared much for bars, so I rarely went to the South Side.  Because I was more into exploring the community, I much preferred The Strip and the NorSide.

Some Pittsburgh things it is a given that I am gonna love.  Heinz Ketchup?  Yup.  Mr. Rogers?  Yup.  Dinosaur statues?  Yup.  Pierogies?  Yup.  Dippy eggs?  Aw yeah.  But the thing I love the best about Pittsburgh is her people.  Burghers are the best people on earth.  Sure, we may still have mullets, and wear jean jackets, and our idea of dressing up is wearing our "good" Stiller jersey.  Sure, we make the Pittsburgh left, and we slow down before the tunnels.  But Pittsburgh is full of the most loving, generous, creative people I know.  And no matter where I end up living, I will always be a burgher at heart.

A special Shaht Aht to everyone who understood every single word of this post, and mentally read it in a Pittsburgh accent.

Go Stillers.  N'at.

The Five Foods You Meet in my Refrigerator

Name five things inside your refrigerator right now and how you feel about them.

I thought this prompt was just a little too easy.  So I challenged myself to not only find five different kinds of things to talk about, but actual examples of that thing that matched their position on the list.  Finding five of anything in my fridge was harder than I thought it would be!

1.  Fruit:  One Lonely Pomegranate


I have a complex relationship with the pomegranate.  I think I like the taste of it more than I actually do.  And there is a lot of messy work involved in being able to eat one.  You have to peel the skin open and retrieve the seeds which, if overripe, will shoot bright red pom juice everywhere.  The last time I tried to eat a pomegranate, I looked like I had blood splattered all over my face.  I think I am more attracted to how pomegranate seeds factor into the mythology of Persephone than to the actual taste of pomegranates.

Also, One Lonely Pomegranate would be an excellent name for a Long Winters cover band.

2.  Juice: Two cans of tomato juice


I actually hate tomato juice.  These cans are leftover from when I made gazpacho the last time.  Oddly enough I love gazpacho, despite the fact that it is pretty much spicy, chunky tomato juice.  Go figure.  I keep hoping Hubby will drink these, since he professes to love tomato juice.

3.  Creamer:  Three flavors of coffee creamer


For a long time, I was not drinking coffee.  During late spring, I had reduced my caffeine intake to nil in the hopes of  healing my stomach.  My doctor suspected I was in the early stages of a stomach ulcer, so I had to give up coffee, tea, and soda.  A while ago, we decided to see how things would go if I started drinking small amounts of caffeine.  So far it has been fine, so I celebrated by splurging on some different creamers.  I typically only drink one cup of coffee a day (if that), so I want to to be delicious.  The sweet cream flavor on the left pairs well with both my blueberry coffee and my mint mocha, while the cinnamon and red velvet are perfect for my breakfast blend coffee.  Now that mornings are cold, a hot cup of delicious coffee is the perfect way to start my day.

4.  Condiment:  Four types of mustard


Hubby does not like any type of condiments on anything.  He is the king of "chicken sandwich, plain".  I, on the other hand, love to play with subtle differences in tastes, and changing the way a sandwich comes together by layering different kinds of flavors.  Hence the 4 different mustards.  On the left, we have Grey Poupon (with white wine ooh la la) for when I am feeling fancy.  Next to that is a jar of my dad's homemade mustard, which is the good stuff that never gets shared, then a bottle of Heinz, because I am a Pittsburgh girl at heart (and no way will you ever catch me with anything but Heinz ketchup), and finally regular French's dijon, which is like the everyday dishware version of mustard.  (Believe it or not, we used to have a couple of additional kinds!)

5.  Cheese: Five Kinds of Cheese


If we were to make a song about the 12 days of Foodmas in our house, I guarantee this would be the lyric for the 5th day: FIVE KINDS OF CHEESE!!!!  We are major cheese fans in our house.  We may dis other types of dairy (cow milk bad, coconut milk good), but there is no such thing as bad cheese.  The examples you see here are deli provolone for Hubby's lunch, swiss for my lunch or breakfast, bleu cheese crumbles that I bought for a pizza I made, extra sharp cheddar for cheese and crackers (which we call chackers), and parmesan and garlic blend for pasta.

As for "how I feel" about these foods, well, they are food, so I really have no strong feelings one way or the other.  Except for those cans of tomato juice, they are big jerks and I hate them.

The Lipton Treatment

On the interview show Inside the Actors’ Studio, host James Lipton asks each of his guests the same ten questions. What are your responses? 

 What is your favorite word? My favorite word is not even a real word, it is a word my husband made up.  We often speak this weird language where we mispronounce words on purpose.  It has gotten to the point where we say these mispronounced words all the time, even in text message.  My favorite word is "snorgle" which is our term for snuggling with our dogs.

What is your least favorite word? Dump.  It is just so gross, and every mental image it evokes is disgusting.

What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally? Anything literary is a big turn on for me, in all three areas.  The same with music.  But I am also greatly inspired by acts of generosity and kindness by other people in the world.

What turns you off? Lying, and people who have to try to ruin the happiness of others, or purposely hurt others for their own sick twisted reasons.

What is your favorite curse word? Douchecanoe.  Not even sure it counts as a curse word, but it sure is a good word to whip out when you are mad.

What sound or noise do you love? Rain on the rooftop

What sound or noise do you hate? The sound of my dogs crying.

What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Probably a teacher or a nurse. My sister is a teacher, my brother is a nurse, and I admire them both for the amazing work they do.

What profession would you not like to do? Proctologist.  I deal with enough a-holes as it is.

If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? I am so glad you I here, I have heard so much about you.  Of course I already knew it all, but people up here just love you.

17 Things I Have Learned (so far) from NaBloPoMo 2013

Tell us what you've learned so far about daily blogging.

1.  I tend to put my blog posts off until later in the day.

2.  I spend a lot of time reflecting on the writing prompt.

3.  Posts with photos get more attention, because the thumbnail sucks you in

4.  Because of this, it stresses me out if I do not have a photo that goes well with the post.

This has nothing to do with this post, but it made you look right?  So, I still win.

5.  I miss reading other people's blogs and engaging in conversation about their posts.  I need to get back to doing that more.

6.  My husband can make any situation, good or bad, better.

7.  So can our weiner dogs.

8.  There are a million things I wanted to blog about in the past, and never got around to it.  Daily blogging pushes me to write those posts.

9.  HOLY CRAP NOVEMBER IS 1/4 OVER ALREADY!

10.  I am much more serious and introspective about the writing prompts than I thought I would be.

11.  To keep the posts from being too serious, I tend to end posts with a snappy, snarky, one liner type statement.

12.  I think numbered lists are a lazy style of posting.  Most of the things are things your readers already know, or would know if you were writing better posts.

13.  Numbered lists also prevent much conversation or reflection, two things I tend to enjoy in blog posts.

15.  Given the above stated opinion, it is clear that today, I just don't have much more in me that a lazy, phoned in numbered list.

16.  If you are going to use a numbered list style post, at least do an unusual number of items.  It will keep people guessing.

17.  I totally just skipped number 14, so that I could fulfill numbers 11 and 16.  Deal with it.

Cartoons by Hubby: Hitler's Furries

"Um...this is awkward."

The backstory:  Last week, over on my book blog, I reviewed a book titled "Hitler's Furies: German Women in the Nazi Killing Fields".  It was an excellent book, bringing to light an aspect of the Holocaust that no one wants to consider; how many women were involved in the Nazi death machine.  So, I read the book, reflected on it, and wrote a thoughtful review.  As I always do, I shared the link on various social media outlets, including my Twitter account.  Several hours later, I got a text message from Hubby that said:

"You may as well have reviewed a book titled Hitler's Furries, because that is what I see every time I read the real title."

To which I replied:

"I humbly request a cartoon pictorial representation of your alternate title of the book."

This is what I got.

Tiffany's Tuesday Tunes: E is for Earworm

It has probably happened to you.  You notice that you are humming, whistling, or singing a song, and wonder, "where did that song come from, why is it stuck in my head?".  Maybe you heard it in the grocery store, maybe it was playing on a television commercial, perhaps a memory triggered it.  Regardless of the cause, the song is lodged deep in the grey matter of your brain, and it will not come out.  Sure, you can try listening to something else, but in the moments of stillness, the original song creeps back in.  It lurks in the shadows and around the corners.  It will find you, my friend, because you are being stalked.  By an earworm.

Last weekend I saw a wonderful live performance by John Hodgman, and he closed the show by singing the Mr. Rogers song "It's Such a Good Feeling".  That song is so sweet, the moment was so real and touching, and we all sang along.  I, however, continued singing the song the next day.  And the next day.  And the next.  4 days later, my cerebrum is now a junkie, waiting for its next hit of of this song.  Eventually, my brain will detox, but until then, I will just enjoy the ride.

As far as earworm songs go, this one is not too bad; the song is sweet, easy to sing, and the person most likely to catch me singing it (Hubby) already knows why I am singing it, so no embarrassing questions about why I am on a Mr. Rogers kick.  But some earworms are pervasive and annoying and totally inappropriate.  I polled a few of my friends on social media, recalled my own past earworm adventures, and talked to Hubby about his own battles with earworms, and came up with what may be the most annoying playlist ever.  I apologize in advance.

"It's such a good feeling, to know you're alive. It's such a happy feeling, a feeling inside that when you wake up ready to say, I think I'll make a snappy new day *snap snap*."

Crap.

 

In The Big City: John Hodgman at the Rex Theater

Ever since Hubby and I have been together, we have been big fans of John Hodgman.  In fact, as we were driving to our honeymoon in New York, Hubby read excerpts of one of Hodgman's books aloud to me.  Because that is what nerds do to show their love.  They share nerd culture.

As we have gotten older, and more comfortably entrenched in nerd culture, we have come to an even deeper appreciation of Hodgman's genius, through his books, his recently released Netflix special "Ragnarok", and his amazing podcast, Judge John Hodgman.  About a year ago, I vowed that the next time he came within a reasonable driving distance, I was going to see his live show.  That item got checked off the bucket list this past weekend.

The minute I learned Hodgman was coming to Pittsburgh, I bought tickets.  I then spent 3 months fretting about Hubby's work schedule to insure that he could attend with me (it all worked out).  By the time the big day arrived, I was so excited I could not shut up about it.  I was tweeting and facebooking like a maniac.

We got to the show about 30 minutes before the door opened, and already a line had formed.  This was going to be amazing.  When we got inside, our diligence paid off with second row seats on the right aisle.  Sweet.  The show opened with a 30 minute set by local comedienne Gab Bonesso.  Hubby was familiar with her work, but this was my introduction to Gab.  She did a great job, and it was wonderful to be able to support a local artist.  If you have a chance to see her live, take it, you will not be disappointed.

Then, the big event.  Hodgman took the stage, and for the next hour and a half, I was in heaven.  I knew the show was going to be good, but it totally blew away all my expectations.  I saw a whole new side to Hodgman, and I do not just mean the part where he stripped to his skivvies (more on that in a bit).  I saw a much more relaxed, casual side to him, and I have to say, my love and admiration for him grew.  He talked a little bit about Pittsburgh, some outdated cultural references, a very amusing tale of his recent speaking engagement on April 20th (my birthday woot woot), some amazing stories about his "cats" and even a song or two.

  During his set, I was consciously aware that I was experiencing pure joy.  This is not an exaggeration, I literally paused and realized how happy this show was making me, and said a silent word of thanks, just for being alive to experience it.

The highlight of the show was when Hodgman stripped down to his boxer briefs, donned a dress, and did a bit in character as Ayn Rand.  It was so amazing, and given the fact that one of our dogs' middle name is Rand after this same woman, I suspect it was the highlight of the night for Hubby.  He laughed so hard, and it made me so happy to hear him having a great time.

There were two moments of the night that melted my Pittsburgh loving, media nerd, fangirl heart.  The first moment was when Hodgman ended the show by singing the classic Mr. Rogers closing song, "It's Such a Good Feeling".  The ENTIRE audience sang (and snapped when appropriate) along with him, and it was one of those moments of perfection you only experience when seeing a live performance.  I was kicking myself for not recording it, still am.

After the show, I snuck up to the stage and asked Hodgman if I could have the paper he used for the cultural references bit, and he graciously obliged.  I clutched it in my hand, and we waited in line for the meet and greet, so that I could get it autographed.  When we finally got up to him, Hodgman said "Oh, hello again.  I am John".  I responded "Hi, I am Tiffany, and this is my husband, Steve".  Then the second heart melting moment happened.  Hodgman responded with "Oh, the Harkleroads."

::blink blink::

HOLY CRAP HE KNEW WHO WE WERE.   Turns out he had seen all the support we were both throwing his way on Twitter.  And then, he thanked us for said support.  I was so blown away and flustered that we forgot to get a photo with him.  He proceeded to sign the paper he had given me, and chatted for a few minutes.

Not only was John Hodgman a hilarious and engaging performer, he was humble and gracious.  If I could sum up the entire night in one word, it would be, without a doubt, "magical".

Go support live shows by both local and nationally touring artists.  It is an experience unlike any other.

View the rest of my photos from that night here.

Mayfly Magic Time

Every once in awhile, you have that time when something special goes on in your town.  It may be a festival, or a parade, or a block party.  And while we do have all those things in Kittanning, the most special time of all, each summer, is when the annual mayfly invasion occurs.  These gross little things invade our town each year, courtesy of the mighty Allegheny River.

I snuck into town just now to document the beginning of the mayfly invasion.  Due to the short lifespan of the insect, the infestation usually only lasts a couple of days.  They should be gone by the weekend.  One helpful townie saw me taking pictures, and told me that the mayflies crawl up out of the river, once they have consumed all the poisons and toxins from the water.  So, there is that. This is just the beginning. I guarantee by nightfall, this window will be one moving, swarming mass of mayflies. We usually have to close the bridge in town because the surface gets to slippery from mayfly guts to safely allow vehicle to cross it. Nasty.

So, all you other Pittsburgh suburbs can keep your fancy carnivals and church festivals, your parades and your band bashes.  Kittanning has mayflies.  It's ok to be jealous.

 

Cartoons by Hubby: Knock Knock

"Knock knock.  Can I invite you to a nightmare?"

The backstory: I suffer from bouts of terrible insomnia.  And right now I am in the midst of a terrible bout of it, due to a recent uptick in my coffee consumption.  I toss and turn, and I am always worried I will disturb Hubby once he is asleep.  So, it is not uncommon, once Hubby is off in dreamland, for me to go downstairs to read, watch Netflix, or play video games.  Last night was one of those nights, and I tried reading in bed, but I just was not getting sleepy.  I ended up going downstairs, piddling around, and lying on the couch to read.  I fell asleep on the couch, book in hand, sometime after 2 am.  Apparently, at some point, one of the dogs started tapping their nails on the bottom of the crate, and the light tap tap tap made its way into my dreams, spawning a nightmare.  I dreamed that someone was tapping on our door in the middle of the night, and getting no answer, they opened the door and walked into the house.  In the nightmare, I was lying on the couch and the intruder rushed over to me, presumably to do me harm, and it was at that time I noticed that the intruder had the body of a man, in an army coat, but the head of a dog.  It was terrifying, and I literally had to shake myself awake.

Hubby found the whole thing so humorous, he decided to represent my dream in cartoon form.

So.... sweet dreams.

Cartoons By Hubby: Midlife Mysteries

"Nancy Drew and the Case of the

WHAT THE HELL WAS I SUPPOSED TO PICK UP AT THE STORE"

Backstory: This morning before leaving for work, Hubby mentioned that he was going to stop at the store, as we needed sandwich bags for his lunch and garbage bags.  Hubby was insistent that there was some other dry good type thing we needed to get.  I ran through the basics (paper towels, toilet paper, laundry soap, etc.) and with each suggestion, we discussed how we had plenty of that item, so it must be something else.  He was thoroughly frustrated that he could not remember.

Around noon, he texted me and said "Kitty litter is the mystery item we need".  I congratulated his discovery, to which her replied (I am paraphrasing) he would like to see that no good so and so Nancy Drew figure that  out any faster.

Thirty minutes later, he sent me the drawing.  This is what almost-middle-aged people do.

Cartoons by Hubby: Parsley

"Elvis Parsley"

Backstory:  We have a whiteboard in our kitchen, which we rarely use for its intended purposes.  We originally put it up to jot notes to each other when we would not be home at the same time, or to write things we needed to pick up at the store.  The other day, I wrote the word "parsley" on the board, so I would remember to pick some up on my next grocery run.  We picked some up on Saturday while out and about, but I never erased it.  Hubby decided to embellish it for me, and suddenly we have "Elvis Parsley".  The funniest thing is he never told me he did it, he just allowed me to find it on my own, as I stood in the kitchen laughing like an idiot.  This is exactly why I love him.

Cartoons by Hubby: Occupy Lunch

The Backstory: As many people in my part of the world do, we had pork and saurkraut for New Years.  We had leftovers, and I did not want them, so hubby has happily been eating them.  I suggested that he take the rest as his lunch today.

He informed me that the pork to saurkraut ratio was not optimal, and there was hardly any pork left.  He then went on about the elitist pork and informed me that the saurkraut was the 99%.  So here you have it, the 99% kraut protesting.  Occupy Lunch.

Cartoons by Hubby: My Strange Addiction

My Strange Addiction

The Backstory:  There is a weird t.v. show called My Strange Addiction, about people who are addicted to doing strange things, and often more specifically, eating weird things.  Like chalk, cleaning fluid, or couch cushions.  In the one season, a woman is eating her husband's cremains.  Sort of makes the idea of eating yellow pellets, bouncing cherries, and neon blue ghosts seem normal, right?

Giggle fest

Have you ever had something that, never fail, makes you giggle each time you think of it?  The moment it pops into your mind, giggles escape your lips?  Well, Hubby does.

One night, Hubby discovered a clip of a the mascot from the Toronto Raptors tripping and falling on the court.  It does not sound terribly funny, and then you watch it.



It is especially hilarious in gif form.

For me, this is a "ha ha that is funny, let's move on" thing.  For Hubby, any time he thinks of it, instant giggles.

Last night we went to bed.  Lights were out, pets were asleep, and I was trying to make myself relax when I heard giggles coming from Hubby's side of the bed.

I knew the answer before I even asked the question "Are you thinking about the Raptor".

*giggle giggle*

"yep".

Best part is, this is not the first time this has happened.  And I know it will not be the last.