I’ll never be able to work at GD.

Well, another show I really enjoy was canceled this week.  One day after the SyFy network said it would be picked up for another season.  Now that Eureka is going to go off the air I’ll never be able to work at GD.  I’ve even got Bug saying “oh great” just like Carter.

I’ve always wanted to eat at Vincent’s place too.  How cool would it have been to walk in and order what ever it was I wanted.  That’s, like, the best thing ever for a pregnant women.   Not that I’ve had specific cravings all that much this time around.  It’s  been more like food, gimmie food and gimmie food now!

Of course now that I’m going to be a mom to two I might now want to work with Fargo and the gang.  Far too many problems there that cause lock downs.

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Back on the Tweets

I have no idea why but last night I got it into my head that I wanted to be part of the tweetverse again.  The thing about me, which Geekdad can attest to, is that when I get something in my head that I want or I want to do I don’t let it go.  So I gave in and grabbed an app for my phone again and started tweeting again.

 

One one level I really don’t get the whole tweeting thing.  Does the world really care that I like Special K cereal and if I need coffee (both, by the way are true)?  No the probably don’t but there is some pull, it’s like some weird Tourette’s thing.

 

Humans want the inside scoop on others. We like gossip and we like knowing things other people shouldn’t know about each other.  Why else would we watch “reality” tv and read the gossip rags.  Twitter is sort of like an ok way for us to eavesdrop on other people, celebrity and neighbor alike.

 

It’s also a way for us to get attention from others.  More than getting the inside dirt on the people around us, mostly so we can feel better about ourselves, we enjoy talking about ourselves.  It’s fun for us to sit there and go on and on about how awesome we are.  Because what is going on in our world is the most. important. thing. ever.  EVER.

 

So, because I feel the need to snoop and babble about my own insanely fantastic self I started tweeting again.

My Hello Kitty thing

My name is Danageekmom and I’m over 25.  I also have a thing for Hello Kitty.  It started out small, with a sticker here and there.  Now at the advanced age of “I no longer get carded” I drool over the idea of a Hello Kitty bathroom and matching toaster.

 

I’ve resisted my urge to own pink bows and whiskers only because at this point in my life I’d just look really sad.  It’s the same reason my hair is red not purple.  And why I no longer wear clothing from Hot Topic.  Ok, I wear some but it’s mixed in with my middle American middle-aged mom wear too.

 

I think the love of Hello Kitty is universal to Geek Girls, but it’s only after we become Geek Mom’s of girls that we can really go all in.  It’s for the baby you know!  Me, I’ve got a Geek Boy.  I can get all the Darth Vader love I want though.

I haz a sad

A while back I posted something about the women who’ve made my life better simply by reading me on line.  They’ve been my friends for so long I can no longer imagine my life without them and the wonderful things they’ve brought into my life over the years.

 

Yesterday I learned that one of the members of a small private board I am on passed away, suddenly, on Thursday.  She was young and healthy.  She simply fell over at her keyboard and passed on, it was that fast.  I knew her, but not as well as so many others.  She and I had very different takes on the world,  my views more conservative while hers were more open and free.  But she made me laugh and think during out interactions.  She once signed into one of my private diaries just because the title amused her and she had to read about the person who’d say such a thing.

 

They don’t know how she passed yet, or why, at home with her sons.  This is one of those times where you sit stunned staring at your screen not knowing what you could possibly say.  It also makes you wonder, how many more people you touched without ever really knowing who they were.  I only knew her in passing yet she was so outrageous and funny that I couldn’t help but enjoy her and feel sad by our loss.

 

Rest well Stinkerbell.

Why I like British TV

I’ve always had a soft spot for British TV.  During the years I spent studying theater and acting I realized how deeply trained even the extras on most of their television series were.  That’s a gross generalization of course; but over all most actors over the pond spend a lot of years studying old plays and play writes.  A British actor trains hard in old dead manners and dialects.  It’s why Hamlet has a British accent.

I respect that, the devotion to the mechanics of the art, the small details that theater actors bring to a character.   On stage it’s hard to see a face and you’re always in view so you learn to have character quarks so you aren’t standing there like a wax dummy while the action is going on around you.  There’s a deep dissection of what makes the person tick, likes and dislikes.  Whole pages are devoted to a character’s likes and dislikes that an audience never badly sees but are there just the same.

Also, I like the British sense of humor.  Monty Python and Benny Hill make me lose it every time.

There is something a lot deeper to my enjoyment of TV across the pond though.  There if someone is a slightly chubby middle aged mom she looks like a slightly chubby middle aged mom.  And slightly chubby isn’t defined as a size 4 instead of a 0.  The women have thighs and the men have crocked teeth.  People are cast based on something more than looking like you came from the same plastic mold as the three people who came in during the cattle call before you.  Perfection of looks takes a second seat to perfection of  talent and the character.

Not to say there aren’t plenty of pretty people on TV over there because there are.  It’s just that it’s nice to watch a show and see actual talent and not a canned laugh track with a teased out size 0 mom who’s always whining about an extra 5lbs while you wonder where the hell she hid it.

Of course that they gave me both Benny Hill and Doctor Who doesn’t hurt either.

So far, so good.

I’m a little afraid.  Ok I’m a lot afraid.  Let’s start by explaining why I was able to wake up a little later than normal on a work day.  See, last Sunday at the zoo Karen and I got to talking about my new work out routine and how much Kyle really loved our walks and likes being in his stroller.  Well she got to talking and said that we should watch Craig’s List and see if we could find a jogging stroller for me.  The old stroller we have is fine, but I’m moving at a pretty good clip and a jogging stroller is more stable, not to mention easier for me to push along.  So Monday morning I found one for $50 that had just been listed and jumped on it and I’m picking it up this morning.

That’s why Kyle and I were able to sleep in a tad today.  We both woke up feeling refreshed, the air is crisp and cool.  He brushed his teeth like a big boy, ate his breakfast well.  He didn’t steal my make up and I’ve lost 2 more pounds despite the giant greasy cheeseburger I ate on Wednesday.

Rounding out the good day vibe is that it’s pay day, we have money in the bank, I ordered Kyle’s big Christmas gift (we’re getting him a child’s piano.  not one of those clinky ones, one that’s set up like a real piano on a smaller scale.).  I’ve got my nieces done for this year too.  My hair looks good.

I found my old vampire avatars and siggys, proving to the world I liked fangs before fangs were cool, I have pictures to play with and print out for family.  Jason’s going to eat on TV.  So, really as you can see, I’m waiting for a truck to smash into my car or someone to blow something up I enjoy.  Really, this isn’t right.

Capt. Phil Harris

I admit right here and right now I am a Deadliest Catch fan.  Jason and I got hooked when we were home with a new born Chugger, Discovery had a week of marathons.  The concept is simple and almost silly, watch a bunch of dudes catch crab?  I’d heard of it before and passed, figuring it would be stupid.  Boy was I wrong.

Discovery, a network I never should have doubted, I put together a group of boats that had compelling stories and men aboard.  They worked hard to catch the real work and the real danger without making it hoaky.

I go between favorite captains and crews, but I always admired Capt. Phil and his relationship with his sons.  A mix between normal fatherly frustration and boss, love and annoyance, pride and disappointment.  In short, normal.  When I heard about his stroke during Opi season I prayed.  Not just for him but his sons, and when I heard he’d passed away I admit I cried a little.

Anytime I’d heard of someone running into Phil they always said the same thing, how nice he was, how patient he was, how great he was with kids.  It’s hard to hide being a jerk when you’re just some guy who was fishing one day and on TV the next.  There isn’t much time to deal with the fame, the people, the demands.

Tonight I’m going to watch the two hour special and I’m going to cry and I’m going to laugh I’m sure.  And I’m going to pray for his sons, that they always carry him in their heart and treasure the special relationship they were able to have with him.  And I’m going to say my own good bye.

RIP Phil, you were a good egg.