dear fans of actors/writers/famous-type people…

…don’t do this:

When we walked out of the SyFy party on Saturday night, a pack of people — probably 12 or 15, I’d guess — appeared out of nowhere, and surrounded me. They shoved pictures into my face, thrust pens at me, and made it so that I couldn’t even move. They separated me from my friends and my son, and, quite frankly, terrified me.

I know my friends are too intelligent and awesome to be this douchey, but I saw this sort of behavior all too often when I would go to various events where CuteFilmNerd was an event photographer. Most celebrities of the non-asshat variety are fine with signing autographs and posing for photos when in the appropriate venue. But, like most of us, they also just want to hang with their friends and family, especially after a long day.

If you’re a mega fan of an actor/writer/famous-type person, learn when it is appropriate to politely ask for a photo or autograph. If the celeb of your fandom isn’t up to it or is just trying to get home because he/she has spent all frakking day on his/her feet (conventions are exhausting, even if you haven’t worked the entire time), respect that and move on. Your life will not end if you don’t get that which you desire. And the chances are that Favorite Celebrity won’t remember you unfavorably. If there’s one thing you don’t want to do, it’s doing anything that could cause another human being (newsflash: celebrities are human beings!) to consider slapping a restraining order on your ass.

In other words: Don’t Be A Dick.

*facepalm*

Once upon a time I used to be a klutz. I would run into walls and trip down stairs and slide on non-slippery surfaces with such regularity that, upon falling down four steps in my drama class in high school in front of everyone, a fellow classmate reassured the substitute teacher that I was fine by saying, “Oh, she’s okay. That’s just Carol.” That classmate was right. I was okay. Because I was young and flexible and used to falling (due to not really paying attention to my surroundings or comprehending spatial distances), I rarely got hurt.

Over the years I became more graceful. I noticed my surroundings. My depth perception got better. As a result I now trip and fall far less often. However, when I do exhibit the klutziness of my past, my advanced age and decreased flexibility ensures that I usually manage to hurt myself.

(We shall not speak of the time that my worst sprained ankle was a result of dancing alone in my living room in tennis shoes and landing on the side of my foot. No. I mean it. It is not to be discussed.)

So it is not entirely surprising that when I did battle with a treadmill this morning in JPL’s gym (which is in the basement of the building in which I work), I survived but did not come away unscathed.

It’s my fault. I can’t blame anyone else (except, perhaps, John Scalzi) for me getting so into the beat of “Thunder on the Mountain” by Bob Dylan that my eyes were closed while I was not holding onto the hand grips. Since I wasn’t (say it with me, class) paying attention to my surroundings, my left foot took a misstep and I slid off the treadmill (which has never happened in my 20+ years of using treadmills), scraping up my left knee, landing on my bad right wrist and twisting the right side of my back (the side injured in a car accident three years ago) unnaturally in the process. I didn’t really feel it at first, aside from the scraped knee, so I just jumped right back on and continued with the treadmill until my time was up because, hey! It’s just a flesh wound! As long as I grab the hand grips this time I’ll be fine!

Now that I’ve been sitting at my desk for awhile, the aches have set in, especially in my wrist and arm. I’ve taken Motrin IB to head off most of of the pain, but I think that tonight I’ll be staying in and eating the pain medication that I was prescribed for my back last year after thinking I was fit enough to play tug of war with my sister’s big dog and lift and toss my eight year old niece around like she was a small toddler. Also, I think there’s a big old bruise on my right hip.

And yes, I have witnesses for today’s bit of clumsiness.

picard-facepalm

checking my referral logs… (updated)

Update: please see the comments for a few excellent points by my friend Eric, a damned good lawyer who does credit to his profession. I may not agree with him on all points, but I respect his point of view. There’s a reason why he’s the subject of mucho internet lust by the UCF Trollops.

So, this morning I’m checking my referral logs and I find a referral that gets my blood boiling.

The referral is from Google. The search term: “how can a drunk driver get off on a technicality.” The searcher was directed to my “white-hot hate” category, wherein my post about P*r*s H*lt*n’s sentence for drunk driving is located. So he or she no doubt read – or at least saw – that entry.

I’m including the actual search term used because I am hoping that Mr./Ms. Cox Communications in Newport Beach, California finds this specific entry and sees him/herself referenced.

Mr./Ms. Cox Communications in Newport Beach, California? You are an asshole.

You dare to drive drunk, endangering others (you’re obviously so stupid I don’t care if you endanger yourself – the gene pool would be well-rid of you) and you have the temerity to try to get off on a technicality? Fuck you, asshole. Not only do I hope you not “get off on a technicality,” I hope your sorry drunk ass is thrown in jail.

I’ve had a sister killed by a drunk driver. I know how it can tear a family apart. And I have no sympathy for anyone who has been drinking enough to set off a breathalyzer and then is stupid and uncaring enough to get behind the wheel and drive. You’re fucking lucky I don’t try to hunt you down and shame the fuck out of you to all of your neighbors, find some way to make sure you land in jail. There are ways. I know people.

But I won’t do that. Because it is illegal. Because I don’t believe in breaking the law. Unlike you, you waste of skin. And, unlike you, my fantasy of breaking the law wouldn’t endanger anyone.

So if you do come across this entry and see yourself in it – be a man. Be a woman. Be an adult. Be a fucking human being, for G-d’s sake, and turn yourself in. Get help. You obviously need it.

my wanderings on the interwebs…

…often cause me to think like this:

funny pictures of dogs with captions
see more dog and puppy pictures

From I Has A Hot Dog, a daily online stop of mine.

audience participation…

I find myself with a dilemma.  I’m actually in the mood to update this here blog, but am utterly without an idea about which to write.  And I’m not in a meme kind of mood – something creative is what is yanking at my writing chain, but it runs away and hides in a fog covered ditch before I can wring out anything worthwhile.  (Or anything at all. Also, I’m feeling a little lazy.)

And so I turn to you, my wonderful readers.  Is there anything you’d like to see on these humble pages?  Submit your ideas (safe for work only, please, as I’m writing this while at work) and by 5pm PST I will write about the idea that tickles my fancy the most.  Or I may incorporate several ideas in one scary, scary entry.  Or I may be inspired by something mentioned, but take it off on some Fellini-esque tangent.  No one really knows!

doh!

Sometimes I am not the brightest bulb on the tree.

WordPress has a new update that I was considering installing. Before I did so, I backed up the entries on my blog. Cause I’m smart like that.

(Sometimes.)

I thought it would also be a good idea to back up the database for the blog as well. Unfortunately, I selected something I shouldn’t have selected, clicked on whatever it was that would have made the back up happen and…

I wiped out my database.

Crap.

Luckily it didn’t take much to reinstall WordPress 2.6 and import my previous blog entries. I may have fallen from the Stupid Tree, but I was close enough to the ground that I didn’t hit too many branches on the way down.

Now the only thing I really have to do rebuild my sidebars, which is a pain in the ass, but not as much of one as losing all the entries I’ve written since I started the new URL would have been. A plus? I get my categories back after an ill-fated attempt to do something fancy a few months back, which turned them all into tags, which I found I liked a lot less than the categories.

I guess I’m not the dimmest bulb on the tree either. *phew*

However, the people mentioned in this YouTube video just might be:

oh joy oh rapture…

So, I went to the doctor yesterday to see what this big red bump over my eyebrow is. This big red bump that is getting bigger and more painful every day since it first started developing on Friday afternoon.

It’s staph.

Oh joy.

I’ve got anti-biotics to help eradicate the buggers. It’s pretty itchy so I’m trying very hard not to scratch it. I even slept with gloves on last night so I wouldn’t scratch it in my sleep. And I’m practically attached to my little bottle of hand sanitizer to keep from spreading the bacteria, just in case. But damn, this thing is bugging the hell out of me.

Still, as I told HSTeacher last night, it’s probably a good thing that, if I was going to get staph, it showed up on my face. If it were on my back or my buttocks, where I can’t really see it or where I’m especially cushy, it would have taken longer for me to notice it and to get it treated. As it is, it was caught before things got really bad.

Doesn’t mean I’m not concerned about the location. The swelling is even a little bigger than it was yesterday and is putting pressure on my eye. If it hasn’t started improving by tomorrow, I’m going back to the doctor and seeing if I can get this thing lanced or something. Because I’d rather it not start messing with my vision. I just got these cute glasses and I ain’t giving them up.

starting to calm down just a tiny bit…

…some of the fires in Southern California, I mean.

Many of them are still ferociously blazing, unfortunately: the worst of them in San Diego County, for instance. But apparently the winds are finally starting to die down in L.A County, allowing the firefighters to start to get an upper hand.

Many have said this, but it’s true: this is the worst fire season that I’ve ever seen. I’ve lived in Southern California since 1977 and many fire seasons have come and gone, but so many fires simultaneously springing up over such a wide area is unheard of in my recollection. When I first heard about how broad an expanse the various fires covered, my first thoughts were arson. It looks like that may be the case in several of the fires. These are the sorts of people who need to be strung up by their most sensitive body parts and left alive for a very long time.

No one I know has yet been affected, which is of the good, but I still feel for everyone who’s been affected. If y’all want to help out and haven’t done so yet, please do.

*************************

On a less positive (and far more cynical) note, while I’m happy that the folks in San Diego County who are being displaced have found shelter at Qualcomm – amongst other refuges – I am furious that this sort of coordination and level of help wasn’t available to the folks profoundly affected by Katrina. Granted, part of it is that the head of FEMA in 2005 was an idiot who didn’t have the first clue of how to organize a sock drawer, let alone such a vitally important federal emergency agency. The current FEMA chief comes from an emergency response background and shows signs of competence that is stunning for anyone appointed by Bush and Buddies.

However, that doesn’t excuse the continuing lack of attention paid by the federal government to the fine folks in New Orleans and the surrounding areas. There’s no reason why ALL the federal attention is going to the displaced in Southern California and none is being diverted to NO. Well, no good reason. The only other thing I come up with – besides FEMA being run by someone who knows a thing or two about fires – is that the areas hardest hit by the fires are in northern San Diego County. And if’n ya know anything that area, you know that the residents are, for the most part, rich, white and Republican.

Cynical? Perhaps. But being “governed” by those currently in the Executive Branch has engendered a definite cynicism where none previously existed. Besides which, I, like many others, have seen how this administration caters to the wealthy and Republican. It’s certainly not beyond the realm of probability. It would also explain why the only people really doing anything to help the Katrina-ravaged areas are those who live there. People who, for the most part, are not rich, are not Republicans, and are less white per capita than the population of NE San Diego.

Again, I am happy that the displaced have got quality shelter. But the federal government still needs to turn their attention back to the Gulf Coast.

We’re ALL American citizens, Bush and Co. Don’t you dare forget it again.

too easily amused…

…yep, that’s me. Because I just had to keep watching this video, over and over:

Well, it’s way too much like my own experience. That could be any one of my three cats.

(Tip o’ the hat to John Scalzi from his By the Way journal.)

Further proof that I’m too easily amused? While shopping on Monday, my eye was caught by the latest People:

Wow, I thought, that explains so much. No wonder they’re both still “eligible bachelors.” Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Don’t worry, George, I still think you’re sexy.

I started walking away, then stopped and walked back. I moved the card that was blocking the bottom of the cover and saw:

Ah. Now I get it. Let’s hear it for real women! Who both look like models/actresses! Whee!

Yep, too easily amused.