pizza joke

It was great to see Barry (dude has his own wikipedia page!) last night. I haven't seen him since we were artists in residence in the Banff writing program. I remember being terrified of him until he started making fart jokes. We ended up assigned in offices next to one another. I never got a damn thing written when Barry was around.

We'd agree to meet at the offices at 8 am. Barry was always lugging around a big bag of slides. I would work for about 15 minutes before he would interrupt me to come look at cool slides. Then he would try to get me to show him one of my tattoos or a scar. Then he would pretend he was going to let me work. Then he would come into my office and eat some of my smarties (new jersey, not UK).

We'd take a smoke break and he'd smoke one of my gauloise cigarettes even though he doesn't smoke. We'd go back into the office and he would say he was hungry and we would go to the cafeteria to get something to eat. He always ran into someone he knew. Before I realized it, it would be afternoon and I'd have to cram 6 hours of writing into 1.

He just got a book deal with Patagonia, but he has to finish writing his book by the fall. He's a little nervous about that. Which I can understand. I finished my book 2 years after the deadline I was supposed to meet to get published. He was feeding me shit about being the only person in the Banff program that failed to get published. Ech.

So I fed him shit about his recent knee problems. He's not sure what's wrong with his right knee but it had a lot of fluid in it when I looked at it. Hopefully it's not a meniscal tear. He's going to e-introduce me to a friend of his in New Zealand that just got a new kind of mechanical knee. Apparently she does all the shit she used to do before the surgery. I'd hate to give up my zombie knee for a fake knee unless the fake knee would allow me to run without pain.

We went to an italian restaurant for dinner. He ate the biggest vegetable salad ever and then a special that had clams in it. It was like clams and vegetables, which looked as weird as it sounds. I ate half my salad and some raviolis which I couldn't finish. He ate the rolls, which I called "penis rolls" because they looked really phallic. The waiter said "I can tell you're from out of town because you're sunburned". Love that Calgary weather. Though the sun was out today.

Barry's going to help me make some vids to promote my book if it ever comes out. Which will be fun, insane, and potentially R-rated if he takes me climbing on some scary shit. He got to work on the new Jason Bourne movie and we were laughing about that. Barry is hardly Hollywood.

Joke of the night:

What's the difference between a professional climber and an extra large pizza?

An extra large pizza can feed a family of four.

we really ARE born to run

Sitting in a strange hotel in Calgary, waiting for my friend Barry to get here so we can go to dinner...

I came across this article on NPR about how there is now scientifically proven information about "runner's high".

And for those who think I'M crazy - it's not just me. It's all runners.

"Morganti injured herself running two years ago and had to stop running. "And everything else fell apart," she admits. "My ability to cope with the stresses of life, my organizational skills juggling your job and motherhood, everything like that, wasn't as acute as it was when I was able to run and be fit."

And:

"Morganti treats runners for injuries, and she says they're the worst patients. "The treatment is to stop running," she says. "They won't. They don't want to. A lot of the behavior is not unlike the patients we have who are seeking drugs. It's really similar. It's an addiction.""

a new holiday?

I dragged my friend Kevin along on a hike today at Roxborough, since he lives right by it and has never been. We did Carpenter's Peak. I had fun, I think for Kevin it was more like the Bataan death march.

Anyway, we were hungry when we finished so we stopped at the safeway shopping center near the park. Choices of food were mexican and asian. We opted for asian as neither of us are huge mexican food fans (that is, the american version of mexican food).

As we were looking at the menu Kevin said something about not wanting to eat "fucking mexican food on Cinco de Mayo". Then he said "we're eating chinese food - it's chink-o de mayo".

The waiter was kind of like "um, what?" but Kevin didn't notice because he was busy texting his gay room mate, who responded "I fucking hate mexican food".

The end.

I'm getting Kevin into shape so we can do Bierstadt. Maybe by June if he keeps working out every day. He's a vegan now and has already lost some weight. Of course, he had extreme difficulty getting out of my car when I dropped him at his house. Something about a sore toe and a jacked up ankle. He'll live.

See you at the top!

a response from the editor who rejected me!

I sent a follow up email to the senior editor who rejected my book asking if he had any suggestions of publishers that might be interested in my book. And he actually responded today! So I'm going to follow up on his leads this weekend.

Maybe something will come of them...

ya'll talk too fast

In a small town near Memphis, TN, teaching.

I haven't been in the south in a while...

First I was told to stop "running in the hallway". I was walking at my normal pace.

Then I was told "ya'll talk too fast". I've tried to slow down and pretend I'm speaking to someone who just learned english.

And when a student asks me a question when I've just written the information on the white board someone else in the class says "readin's fer the rich".

Rowdy group of 12 DoD personnel. I managed to make it on base even though I went in the wrong gate (worst directions from the customer and the location isn't on the map or locatable through GPS). Unlike the east coast bases they didn't try to shoot me.

It's raining on and off so my hair looks insane. But that's not really new.

And, after SIX FUCKING MONTHS they STILL have not fixed the expired licenses on the VMWare image I teach on. So I got to spend my lunch hour updating 12 computers. ANNOYING. I really hate my company sometimes.

desperate times call for desparate measures

In the interest of forging ahead with my book (thanks to all at the pitch fest who sent words of encouragement! I super appreciate it!!!!!!!) I've been up to a few things this week.

1. I made some more edits to the colossal cringle crisp caper and am looking for kid's book contests.
2. I found a magazine that's having a writing contest and I'm going to enter my gimps on rock story. Chance of publication is probably a little larger than zero, but that's okay.
3. I met a woman at digifest this weekend who's a retired editor from Random House (she moved here from NYC last year to take care of her mom). I was talking to her about my memoir and she said she is also working on a memoir and was approached by an agent that she decided not to go with (she got an A list agent instead which would be impossible for me as an unknown writer). Anyway, she thinks that agent might be interested in me. So when she gets back from a trip she's on I am supposed to send her my query letter and a sample chapter, which she will pass on to a friend who's still at Random House, hoping that friend will then pass my work onto the agent.

Crazy, I know. Don't worry, I'm not getting my hopes up that this will be anything more than another trip down the rabbit hole.

But if I don't go I'll never know what could have happened...

the STUPIDEST english word EVER

As usual, the only person in my four person unit that does anything for the common areas is me. I asked the guy next door to schedule for someone to come out and turn on the sprinklers (since he had to be home because he's the only one without keypad entry to his backyard and I don't want to try to coordinate between him and the lawn service). You would have thought I asked him to build me a replica of the Titanic with pixie sticks.

He's also the supreme douche fuck who sent me a nasty email about traveling too much. And the guy who's dogs barked so much that I seriously considered kidnapping them.

Anyway, we need someone to cut our common area grass because the two guys who own lawn mowers refuse to spend 10 minutes every other week cutting it. I started looking for a contractor on craig's list because if I didn't do it no one would.

I found a guy who offered us a rate of $45 (ridiculous) to cut our grass bi-weekly (in our discussion, that was every two weeks). I sent an email out to the HOA members asking what they thought. Douche responded back "we don't need our grass cut twice a week". I was like "I know, it's for every two weeks". He responded "So you mean BI-MONTHLY instead of BI-WEEKLY".

Now, I've been using the term "bi-weekly" for a long time. And it's always meant "every other week". So I was going to send him a link to dictionary.com to show him he was wrong. Instead I found this:

bi-weekly

   [bahy-week-lee] Show IPA adjective, noun, plural bi·week·lies, adverb

adjective

1.

occurring every two weeks.

2.

occurring twice a week; semiweekly.

noun

3.

a periodical issued every other week.

adverb

4.

every two weeks.

5.

twice a week.

 

What kind of stupid fucking shit is THAT? A word that can mean the opposite of its meaning? 

 

Someone should fix that.

 

 

but she has a key to my house, and may knife me in my sleep

Today I learned a valuable lesson.

I've been avoiding my friend, who is also my hairdresser, because I was afraid she would flip the fuck out about my deva haircut that I got from someone that wasn't her.

But she invited me to lunch today, and I decided to 'fess up. I said I would meet her for lunch and then admitted I had gotten my hair cut somewhere else. I thought I would mention it to her in email to prepare her, and to give her an opportunity to tell me to go fuck myself and not meet her for lunch after all.

But she ended up doing some research on deva, and was so impressed with my hair she said she's going to get her hair cut at Voila when she gets back from a trip she's taking to Sri Lanka.

Huh. Not the reaction I expected at all.

But I'm glad I told her and I'm glad she's not mad at me. And she said I've been a really good friend to her and helped her through some tough times.

So. Go me!

just add boobs and, what the hell, some dinosaurs

Me (in an email to my family about my book getting rejected):

Rejected.

My brother Steve:

This isn’t bad news.  He is saying she liked your book but it has a narrow audience focus.  So if you can expand your audience then they are interested, otherwise look for someone that deals in a niche.  So what can you do to expand your audience?  Get a camera crew to follow you around anywhere, doing anything or add in a lot of research and background material to draw the reader in and make them care about you or your situation.

Me:

I could add a villain who is also part zombie. Or take out all the pictures of my knee and replace them with naked women.

Steve:

Maybe you could get trapped under a boulder and cut your knee out with a  broken Leatherman.  Zombie are overdone these days, I think dinosaurs are due for a comeback.  How about you bleed onto a fossil and it comes to life.

 

 He's so pragmatic. Meanwhile my Uncle Joe did some research and found a publishing company that publishes books like mine. I'm going to get my submission in to them tomorrow.

rejected!

Random House passed on my book:

Dear Franki:

 

Thanks for letting us take a look at your material. As a runner with a bum knee, I read this with interest and found it quite riveting, not to mention harrowing.

 

A few people read with interest but ultimately it was decided that this book might better reach its target audience with a more specialized publisher with a greater outreach to the fitness community.

 

I did enjoy this look, and I wish you all the best with this.

 

Oh well.  Maybe he'll (the editor who rejected me) have some ideas on where else to send my book.

someone who has a lot of time to make costumes

Some clips from the digifest costume contest...

I wouldn't invite this person to a costume party unless you have a great costume too.

 

And, a guy proposes. That was weird. I guess Kevin and I are too cynical...

 

suicidal batman

Some clips from the digifest costume contest...

I appreciate that some people can spend 200 days making a costume for a 2 day event. But. For real?

This, as far as I could make out, is a suicidal batman.

digifest

This weekend I was arrested by storm troopers, threatened by an asian themed steampunk pirate, assaulted by a robot, and amused by walking speakers.

Digifest. It was fun.

The storm trooper was like "PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!". I was like dude, it's just a picture.

Asian steampunk meets pirate. That knife is very sharp. I asked if he used it in the kitchen to chop onions and he looked at me like he thought I was really stupid.

The walking speaker heads.

Oh NO! ROBOTS! That's my mentee writer Jonathan in the hat in the background.

Zombies take a break from spreading the virus to answer text messages.

These guys invaded the lobby. Scary.

This car was once parked in my neighborhood!!!!

deva

For the past few years I seem to have been in a constant state of hair crisis. It's not easy to manage an afro.

But today I made an appointment with a stylist named Jess who is an expert in curly hair. She gave me the best haircut I've had in years. AND she taught me how to style it with these little pins so I never have to use a hair dryer again (I am sort of afraid of hair dryers and terrified of curling irons - seriously, if someone puts a curling iron close to my head I start to hypervenilate - I was burned badly on the ear with a curling iron when I was young). Check out the salon, it's owned by a former olympic snow boarder who works at the front desk and is super nice.

Jess also introduced me to a great product line called Deva. It's made for african americans but blondes can use it too. If my hair looks this good at altitude I wonder what will happen when I go to Tennessee in a few weeks...

Not exactly a professional photographer

Denver - making pink slime with dynamite?

How can you not read an article that starts out with the sentence:

It may take explosives to dislodge a group of cows that wandered into an old ranger cabin high in the Rocky Mountains, then died and froze solid when they couldn't get out.

Um, hamburger anyone?

the jagger smile

Perhaps my brain momentarily short circuited after spending 15 minutes looking at kitchen cabinets (that's a long time isn't it?).

Last night I dreamed I was at an ocean resort. I was in the lobby of the hotel, which was really dark, so I decided to go up to a terrace on the second story. I was sitting at a table looking out at the ocean when...Mick Jagger walked up to me. He said "I need a key to the room" and I was like "um what?" and he said "I want to change" and I was like "what are your clothes doing in my room?" He said "we've been hanging out together all week!" I was like "we have????" and he said "that's why I like hanging out with you, you forget everything!"

He walked away and I noticed the waves were picking up in the ocean so I went out to the parking lot, which was just a flat, boring parking lot, and moved the rental car to a street. Then I went back into the hotel and up to the terrace and Mick Jagger was sitting at a table drinking lemonade and he was like "I ordered you a lemonade. Where did you go?"

I told him I had moved the car and he said I was being silly but then we looked at the ocean and the waves were getting huge and they were flooding the parking lot. All these cops showed up in black uniforms and black hats and wouldn't let anyone move their cars. So Mick Jagger was like "you saved our car!" and I was like "but we have to get out of here because the water is rising". Mick Jagger didn't want to leave because he was finishing his drink but I grabbed him by the arm and started pulling him across the veranda.

The water was getting higher and the waves were breaking over the veranda and Mick Jagger said "you have to save me because I can't swim". Then I was like oh great, I haven't been swimming in a long time and now Mick Jagger is going to drown because I won't be able to save him and no one will believe I ever hung out with him.

Fucked up.

a bit of truth about my refrigerator

Sarah wasn't being mean about my refrigerator. It is pretty pathetic:

I do eat out a lot, how did you guess?

The freezer is even more pathetic.

I guess I know more about architecture than architects

My architect came today to talk to me about my kitchen remodeling plans. I'm not sure we will see eye to eye on everything. Her book of projects totally fits my style. But, I did have moments of doubt. Like this:

Sarah: we could put the refrigerator here, and if it had paneling, it would look like a cabinet

Me: but, it's a refrigerator

Sarah: but people like to cover the refrigerator so it looks like a cabinet

Me: but then wouldn't it look like I didn't have a refrigerator in my kitchen?

Sarah: no, because people know you have a refrigerator

Me: so why would I make it look like a cabinet?

Sarah: so you don't see your appliances

Me: but I'm not covering my oven and dishwasher with paneling, so don't you think the refrigerator might feel bad, like "what's wrong with me that I get covered up with a cabinet? it's because I'm fat and ugly!" Then little tears would leak out the ice maker.

Sarah: refrigerators don't think

Me: mine might, if I get one with a robot in it
Sarah: (after looking in my refrigerator) doesn't look like you need a refrigerator anyway. You just need a coke dispensing machine.

She's going to give me a sketch of her idea for the redesign in a few days. She says my problem is I can't visualize stuff. I hope that's true.

calling all creative spirits who like rockets!!!!!

I have been so enjoying the stories about the N Korean rocket that fell apart. I'm not being mean spirited. It's just that anyone with half a fucking brain knows the future is not about weapons that are material. It's about hackers and software. All the weapons in the world aren't going to save you if they get hacked because every weapon system has...embedded software! And they don't work without it.

Anyway, tonight on a late conf call with my customer I decided I'm going to build the next gen N Korean rocket tomorrow based on shit I have around my house. If you build one and send me a picture I'll post it (c'mon Bob and Steve, it will be FUN).

This project is not in any way an excuse for putting off my other, more practical project, which is to install a new black out screen I bought for my huge front window that I tried to put up today but got the brackets mis-aligned.

Ech. Fucking straight lines.

more entertaining than taxes

A bunch of people at work are taking Thursday and Friday off to do their taxes.

Seriously?

One word: accountant. Paying someone to do your taxes is tax deductible. I haven't done my own taxes since 1994.

Then I was reminded of my shoe calculation spreadsheet (how to calculate the total number of shoes you can reasonably own. More entertaining than taxes.