My favorite form of punctuation is the ellipse. Because so...much can happen betwixt those three little dots...

Friday, December 23, 2005

The Corned Beef Incident

I live in this big old house alone with my dog, Fluff Bucket and my cat, The Bald Monkey (at least that is what we are calling them in this anonymous medium). Except on various holidays. The people that actually own the house show up. Which is fine. It's their house. They grew up in it. They inherited it. It's nice of them to let me live there. It's still hard to get used to shutting doors and not walking around naked though...

The other night I got home from rehearsal and...we'll call him Steve...Steve is sitting there in the kitchen and points very proudly to 4 pounds of corned beef on the counter that he made and offers me some. I thank him but decline. He tells me that his sister is coming over the next night to enjoy the corned beef with him. They are Polish. This is some sort of Polish family tradition to consume corned beef together.

Around 5-o-clock PM yesterday I hear Steve shouting "Bad dog! Bad Bad BAD DOG!!!" I hide upstairs in fear of what crime my beast has committed. She joins me shortly thereafter with the guiltiest mug a pup ever wore and proceeded to curl up on my bed and go into some sort of coma.

Half an hour later Steve yells up the stairs to me, "Hey Plimco! I'm going to the store to get something else to make for dinner. Do you need anything?" "No, thanks Steve. I thought you were having corned beef..." "Fluff Bucket ate it." "What?! All 4 pounds?!" "Yep."

Bad dog.

The worst part of this story is that I had to take Fluff Bucket to my friend's house last night because she is keeping her while I go home for Jesus Day. I'm certain she got the shits at some point in the night. I mean, come on. 4 pounds of corned beef would give anyone the shits. Oh well. At least they have hard wood floors...

Posted by Plimco @ 12:07 PM :: (3) comments

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Enough!

Alright, people. Enough already! I can accept no more. I'm done. As it is you're going to have to roll me out of here. Oi vay.

In my possession at this exact moment is the following:

And Channukah hasn't even started yet. And folks, it's not like I'm skinny and people are all, "Ooo, get that girl some cookies!"

I feel ill. I ate half that mason jar for breakfast. That shit is awesome though...

Posted by Plimco @ 2:45 PM :: (0) comments

Spontaneous Dinner Party

I had a spontaneous dinner party at my house last night. It was fantastic. Unplanned, so I had no time to stress about how dirty the house and the dog was or what I was going to make. This is the way all dinner parties should be.

I only know how to cook 2 things. Seriously. I can make a bad ass pasta bake and I can make that jumbalya in a box with chicken or beef. That's it. Last night I made the bad ass pasta bake. And people ate it... And they liked it! I gave them the impression that I kind of know how to cook! And my Dr. friend brought cannolis from the North End and they were so delicious and everyone brought a bottle of wine and we drank all of the bottles and although I did not spend my only free evening this week memorizing 5 million speeches to my dead grandfather from my play like I should have and although I have a wine headache this morning and although I didn't get any sleep and am facing a looong day of work and class and rehearsal...it was worth it.

Posted by Plimco @ 9:07 AM :: (0) comments

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Yankee Swap vs. Dirty Santa

I'm from Tennessee. I've lived in New England for almost 5 years, but I still learn new east coast/northern weird shit all the time. The latest was the "Yankee Swap". I was like, what the hell are you talking about? Then I received a very lengthy description of what we call in the south, "Dirty Santa". I'm not sure which term I prefer.

Last year was my first experience with Dirty Santa in Tennessee. I got confused. I thought Dirty Santa meant that you came with a wrapped $20 or less naughty gift. My mother's father's second wife's family were the ones we were playing Dirty Santa with. I wrapped a dart board (?) and some warm sensation Trojan condoms and threw them on the pile. People began unwrapping gifts as their turn came up. A nice set of socks and hand lotion. A black fuzzy scarf. A Titans football highlights video. I started to think something was wrong. None of these gifts were dirty. Thank god Dirty Santa is anonymous. I got to pin the condoms on my little sister. What were you thinking, E! This is a family event! Everyone laughed really hard and I'm fairly certain that the condoms ended up being used by the family member that ended up with them. Ha! Warm sensations. How festive! I sort of enjoy this trend. Perhaps this year I'll bring edible underwear. Ooo! Or that pasta shaped like boobs. Have you seen that shit? I would love to eat me some boob pasta...

Posted by Plimco @ 8:37 AM :: (1) comments

Monday, December 19, 2005

Weezer needs to get laid...

Why hasn't Weezer's Rivers Cuomo had sex for 2 and a half years? I would totally fuck him. He's hot.

Posted by Plimco @ 3:18 PM :: (0) comments

Jogging

I have never been a jogger. I was a smoker. I haven't had a cigarette since 10:45PM on Monday, November 28th. Even when I wasn't a smoker I was a fat little girl. I was horrible in gym. Our middle school gym teacher was Mrs. Dillard. She was crusty and old with this white bowl cut of a hairdo and giant glasses and elastic band pants and she used to swat girls on their fannies in the changing room. Creepy. I was dubbed a fat girl early on and put in the 4 square group. 4 square. What a game. So exciting and challenging. Why isn't 4 square in the Olympics? So the 4 square group consisted of all the fat or asthmatic or nerd girls who couldn't play the real sports like volley ball or ping pong. We would play half assed 4 square for all of gym class. Shunned from the rest of the girls. I remember changing in the far back corner of that dimly lit locker room hoping to god someone wouldn't make a comment on my fat rolls or point and whisper and giggle. 8th grade I stopped eating and became anoerexic, but that's not my point.

My POINT is, I have never been a jogger. I never ran. I don't think I've ever even tried to run any distance what-so-ever. I never got it. Unless you're running FROM something, why do it at all? And it seemed like such a white person past time and I prefer to make fun of white people, not play in to their stereotypes.

I was walking my dog the other day and my dog got excited. (Let's call my dog...oh I don't know...Fluff Bucket? Yes, Fluff Bucket.) I was walking Fluff Bucket and she kept pulling me on the leash. This is not an unusual occurrence as she is part husky and often thinks she is pulling a sled. It is a wonder my arm remains in its socket. So, she started pulling and I did a little skip to keep some slack in the leash. I kept up the little skip for a bit and enjoying the bounce-a bounce-a bounce-a began to...jog. Yes. Jog. I have never jogged so far in my life. I think I jogged for a mile! Incredible! So THIS is what non-smokers are capable of! Oh happy day! I don't think I was doing it right. What are you supposed to do with your hands exactly? And I was wearing the wrong kind of bra. I don't know if it will ever happen again, but it was pretty cool...until Fluff Bucket realized what I was doing and thought it was a game and tried to chew my sneakers off, and my boobs were pretty sore for the rest of the weekend, but other than that... Yay jogging!

Posted by Plimco @ 1:01 PM :: (0) comments

Why King Kong Sucks

I saw the 10:30 showing of King Kong on Saturday night. I was so very excited to see this film. It had received such consistently glowing reviews. This never happens. Everyone said it was fantastic. And Peter Jackson directed it and I love Peter Jackson. I mean, he's Peter Jackson.

I fell asleep, folks. Granted, I was exhausted, it was a 10:30PM show and I had consumed quite a bit of sake and eaten a gigantic and glorious Japanese meal beforehand, but still. I'm not 80. I've NEVER fallen asleep in a movie theatre. Ever.

It was so bad. Where to begin? Ok. Naomi Watts. Bless her little heart. That woman had the exact same expression on her face for the ENTIRE film. I kid you not. Wide eyed, little crinkle between the eyebrows, mouth half open so that you could see her front two teeth. The pensive-full-of-wonder-astonishment-admiration-and-fear look. I challenge anyone to find a moment in that film when she did not have her mouth agape (pun intended). A little variety would have been nice, Naomi. My friend who saw the movie with me said it looked like she did not enjoy working on this film at all. I wonder what her acting/filming process must have been like. Did she have anything to look at? A blue screen? By the look on her face, it appeared to be quite an unpleasant process.

And the pacing? Ugh. It was painful. Like riding one of those kiddie roller coasters for three hours. You go up a mini-bump and then down and then slowly....sllllooooooooowly....go around the corner and up......up.....another mini-bump. Oof.

The writing? Jack Black did what he could. He started it all off so strong and full of conviction and commitment to his character and then... It just sort of fizzled and he had such horrendous lines he had to deliver with a straight face.

There were all these extraneous side plots and characters. This film needed some edits like I needed a haircut. Jimmy?! Jimmy the sailor and his over protective father figure sailor friend? What the hell?! No one cares about you, Jimmy. Why are you in this film? Why?! And every time anyone spoke to Jimmy, they had to say his name. It's all right, Jimmy. Don't be afraid, Jimmy. Jimmy, would you like to grab a bite to eat? AaaAAAaaA! Oh, and we get the Heart of Darkness reference. You don't need to shove it in our faces a thousand times. We get it.

And the action sequences all started out with potential but then went on waaay too long and some we've seen done 500 times 500 different ways. Hey. We're running from a stampede. Oh. The stampede caught up with us and now we have to dance betwixt the foot falls of the mighty dinosaurs and not get squished.

Ok. The film had moments. Beautiful visual moments. And I jumped and screamed out loud at least 3 times. I guess the major issues I had with this movie were:

a) everyone said it was fantastic
b) it is a great story and directed by Peter Jackson and should have been fantastic
c) it could not decide the manner in which it wanted its audience to perceive it. Was it a comedy? A drama? A romantic comedy? A horror movie? I was laughing out loud like a maniac at several moments. I do not believe it was intended for the audience to be laughing out loud at these moments. Mostly I was laughing at the writing. Laughing instead of crying.

People left early throughout it. People talked throughout it. It was so very bad. And I had such High hopes...

What depresses me more than anything is that I spoke to my father yesterday and he said he and my mom were planning on going to see it. I told him it sucked. He said, "How interesting. Your sister J. said she loved it." I hope to god that is not true.

Posted by Plimco @ 9:49 AM :: (1) comments

Friday, December 16, 2005

Goodbye Snow Man Mug

I broke my second snow man mug today. It is a black day.

The first snow man mug I had disappeared. I asked everyone at work if they had seen it. I sent out an Email to everyone asking them if they had borrowed it from the lounge and if so, to please return it. I then found out from the school nurse the truth about snow man mug #1. I had left it in the sink in the nurse's office. A student came into the nurse's office and got sick. That student turned, and needing a place to throw up into, vomited into the sink...into my poor snow man mug. She threw it away.

A nice, albeit batty, lady I work with brought me an exciting new snow man mug that was head and shoulders above the previous. He was beautiful. Tall and strong and detailed. I just shattered him on the floor. Goodbye snow man mug #2. I hardly knew ye...

Posted by Plimco @ 8:39 AM :: (1) comments

Thursday, December 15, 2005

Speaking of Seasickness...

I have two seasick stories. Want to hear them? Ha! You have no choice!

1. My family went to the Florida Keys over the summer and decided that we were going to go snorkeling out on a coral reef. I suppose I must tell you that I have this thing for fish. I want to be a fish. Slimy unblinking swimmers. No memory. Constantly in the moment. If I had a wish, I would wish to be able to breath under water. Snorkeling is half way there. Right. So. We (my mother, father, two sisters, one brother-in-law) get on this teeny boat with "Scary Steve" who is our navigator. We wonder why Steve is so scary. Steve then proceeds to remove his cut off jean shorts from his leathery, Florida Keys native, 60-year-old skin to reveal a purple speedo. Scary.

So, we're bumping along over the waves going out to the reef. We get there and sploosh into the water and I'm swimming around in that quiet reefy world. Scary Steve told us to pop our heads above the water occasionally to look to the boat to make sure we don't swim too far away. At one point I hear my sisters scream, "SHARK!". I poke my head out of the water and say, "So, what, exactly do we do in this situation? Do we swim to the boat? Do we chase it? Do we scream?" I put my head back in the water and see that my darling sisters have chased this shark right under me. It was fairly awesome and frightening, but I'm supposed to be telling you about seasickness.

At one point I look up to check to see where the boat is and see the following: My little sister projectile vomiting off the left side of the boat. My brother-in-law projectile vomiting off the right side of the boat and my father lying on his back in a pool of his own vomit in the middle of the boat. I shook my head and ducked back in the water. My big sister swims by and says, "Gee, everybody's getting sick." I say, "I know. Isn't it funny?" My big sister opens her mouth to speak, but pukes all over herself instead. Ha!

My mom and I are the only ones who didn't barf. Which brings me to...

2. Since my mom and I proved that our stomachs were made of steel, I decided to get us both tickets to go on a whale watch this past October. I was able to get us tickets to the last whale watch of the season. We hop on the boat with a bunch of tourists and set out to sea. This was October 29th. This was the day of the first snow of the season. The flakes start coming down. The water is so rough. The vomiting begins. I swear, everyone on that boat vomited except for me, my mom, and this lovely couple we were sitting with from Georgia. Little kids were puking. Grandmas and Grandpas were puking. Whole families were puking. It was equally sad and hilarious. At one point this woman, she sounded like she must have been from Kentucky, stood up and screamed between gags, "Who votes we turn this boat around? This is miserable! I didn't pay all this money to puke my guts out!" I thought it was going to be a mutiny. A battle of pukey pirates.

Once we got to the whale farm, the snow was coming down so hard and it was so cold and the whole boat smelled like vomit. My mom and I went out on the back deck and I saw this giant whale breach in the snow storm. We saw so many whales. They were magnificent and beautiful and giant and graceful and awkward and ugly all at the same time. The announcer kept saying how we were probably part of maybe %3 of people in the world who have ever seen whales in the snow. It was incredible. On the way back my mom and I had hot tea and wrote haikus.

Posted by Plimco @ 9:33 AM :: (0) comments

Seasick Crocodiles

So, I might as well be Jewish, but I'm not. I've been trying to get into the mystery and wonder that is the Christmas season in America, but... It's hard, folks. Christmas carols. That's about as far as my cheer goes. There's this radio station in town that has been playing Christmas carols since Halloween, I swear. I've been leaving the radio on this station for my cat and dog to keep them company when I leave the house. I keep expecting to come home and find them both hanging stockings by a roaring fire and offering me a mug of egg nog. Yesterday I heard the Mr. Grinch song. Man, that's a fine piece of musical genius. I got stuck on this verse and can't stop thinking about it:

You're a vile one, Mr. Grinch.
You have termites in your smile.
You have all the tender sweetness
Of a seasick crocodile. Mr. Grinch.

Given the choice between the two of you
I'd take the seasick crocodile.

I never really thought about seasick crocodiles and how choosing them over Mr. Grinch must mean that Mr. Grinch is super nasty because seasick crocodiles are also super nasty, but Dr. Seuss is picking the lesser of two evils. I never saw what was so gross about seasick crocodiles. Then I thought about it...

What do crocodiles eat? Raw flesh and lots of it, right? And swamp water and moss and nastiness. And if they're seasick, they're vomiting that shit all over you. Gross. Half digested raw meat and swamp water and moss and mud barfed in your face and that's what you're choosing?! Wow, Mr. Grinch. That's an impressive gross scale if we're choosing the seasick crocodiles. Impressive.

Posted by Plimco @ 8:48 AM :: (0) comments

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

How to Procrastinate:

I took the day off yesterday. I took the day off because I must be off book by Saturday for the play I'm rehearsing. I took the day off to memorize lines because if I'm not at work, I'm at rehearsal.* I took the day off because I have pages and pages and pages of a eulogy to memorize for this particular play. This is what I did instead on my day off:

Wow. That's impressive in print. I consume an awful lot of beverages...



*Ok fine. I suppose I can tell you that I am an actor and still retain some anonymity, but I'm not an exciting actor or anything. It's not like I'm Christina Ricci incognito (although that would be cool). I do theatre, not film. Yes, I get paid for it, but still. It's (fill in large east coast city here) "professional" theatre. I mean, come on.

Posted by Plimco @ 11:30 AM :: (2) comments

Friday, December 09, 2005

Dear Snow,

Could you please time yourself in the future to arrive around 4:00-5:00 AM instead of 6:30 so that certain principals of certain schools have ample time to dub the day a "snow day" and certain employees can simply look out their window at the soft stuff and roll over in the comfort of their jammies and drift back to sleep with a snow day grin on their snow day faces? I would greatly appreciate it, Snow. For I almost died twice during my morning commute.

Thank you for your time,
Plimco

Posted by Plimco @ 8:18 AM :: (0) comments

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Barbie Snacks

So, I quit smoking a week and a half ago. I'm on this wacky experimental drug they give to depressed people, but someone figured out that the depressed people that took the pill stopped smoking so someone was like, "Hey. Let's give this to smokers to help them quit." The side effects are unusual and took a while to get used to. Dizziness. Hyper activity. Vivid dreams. Shakes. Antsy. Increased poo-ing. Blurred vision. Basically you sort of feel like you're drunk in the middle of the day. Fun. But the point is, around day 5 of taking these little suckers, cigarettes started tasting like ass. Like car exhaust. I would gag on them. Nasty. I still really really really wanted the nicotine, but didn't want to have to smoke to get it if that makes sense.

It felt like divorcing a spouse. Married for 10 years. We'd been through so much together, cigarettes and I. I will miss them.

I still have a wicked oral fixation. Now I'm addicted to suckers. Yay suckers! Dum Dums are nice and small and quick like a cigarette, but I discovered the other day, get this: Jolly Rancher suckers. I'm not kidding. Jolly Ranchers on a stick. Halle-frickin-lluiah.

I created this blog in hopes of diverting my thoughts from cigarettes and to give my fingers something to do. Typa typa typa. Click click click. Satisfying.

I've always had an oral fixation. I sucked my thumb until 8th grade. I know. That's pretty bad. While all the other girls were talking about getting their period, I was the weirdo with my head down on my desk trying to disguise the fact that I was STILL SUCKING MY THUMB.

Somewhere around Sophomore year I discovered Barbie Snacks. This is what you do. Get one of those cheap ass Barbies from Target or Wal-Mart or KB Toys. The $5.00 one. She's usually named "Hip to be Square Barbie" or "Fun in the Sun Barbie" or "Malibu Tan Barbie" or something like that. Open her up. Snap her head off. (You don't have to do this, but it is very satisfying and sort of allows you to make peace with the fact that you just purchased and inadvertently supported the iconic "woman-ness" that that bitch represents. If Barbie is going to exist in this world, it should be without a head.) Then, if she's wearing shoes, take them off. It is up to your discretion as to whether or not you keep her clothed. Then you chew the hell out of her feet. I'm not certain what sort of plastic Barbie's feet are made of, but it is the loveliest, most magnificent of stuffs that ever was to be chewed by human jaws. Yum. I love me some Barbie Snacks.

Posted by Plimco @ 9:43 AM :: (2) comments

Umm...hi?

Ahem. Hello? Is this thing on? *boof boof (bangs on microphone)* How curious to be all public somehow.

The other day I was in a bathroom in a stall about to piss and the door shutting mechanism was faulty and I had my skirt up and was about to pull my tights down and this woman opened the door to the stall and we both looked at each other for a moment... Shock. Oops. Caught in such a private moment by a stranger. Yeah. This feels kinda like that. Then that woman went in the neighboring stall and proceeded to tinkle and allow several farts to escape. It was extremely difficult not to laugh out loud. But I guess it was her penitence for catching me in my privacy. She shared her farts. Yay.

Anyhow. Hello blogging world. This is me. The mighty Plimco. With her pants round her ankles and a shit eating grin upon her face. Hi.

Posted by Plimco @ 8:47 AM :: (0) comments