You are here: Home > jump aboard the crazy train
Archive | jump aboard the crazy train RSS feed for this section

Is this what being patriotic is like?

by on April 19, 2012, in around town, jump aboard the crazy train, photography

Is this what being patriotic is like?

I was shopping at Target the other day (for, like, the third time in a week—don’t judge) and stopped by their soft t-shirt section (Ian and I are obsessed with soft t-shirts and will wear no others) and saw the one pictured above. (Also: how many sets of parentheses are allowed in one sentence?)

I knew it was related to a comic book character because the tag screamed MARVEL COMICS, but I had to Google to make sure that it was, indeed, Captain America. And here’s where I got weird. Despite the fact that it was the softest soft t-shirt I’d felt, and despite the fact that the star reminded me of the stars on Tennessee’s state flag, I considered not buying it because I was afraid it would look “too patriotic.”

Because lately it seems that the only people who wear “‘merica, fuck yeah!” shirts are assholes who think gays shouldn’t be able to marry, women shouldn’t be able to receive reproductive health benefits with their insurance (despite the fact that Viagra and other boner pills continue to be covered with no qualms) or have any kind of control over their bodies, and we should punish poor people and make life increasingly difficult for immigrants.

So I sat there in Target for a good five minutes trying to decide if I should buy this $10 t-shirt that I really liked, design- and material-wise, because I was afraid that people who wouldn’t recognize the emblem as that of a comic book character would think I was one of “them.” Either with them or against them—I didn’t want to be mistaken for that kind of person. That kind of patriot.

And then, it struck me: I am more worried about being mistaken for a proud American, because of what that means now, than as a comic book nerd.

In the end, I bought the shirt for three reasons:

  1. It was really, really soft. And as a nerd, I generally like to support other means of nerdery, even if I’m not into comics.
  2. I don’t give a shit what people think about me. Well, I try like it’s my job to not care, but I’m human so I fail at this occasionally. But really, none of us should care how perfect strangers perceive us, especially those who would judge someone based on a t-shirt.
  3. I don’t want “patriot” to mean “person who wears American flag paraphernalia to show that he/she hates everyone who is not a middle-aged, white, straight Christian.” So I am going to wear this shirt and love gays, abortion rights and birth control pills. And while we’re at it, I’ll also wear this shirt in support of immigrants, welfare and atheists. Because what’s more American than challenging the opinions of the loud-mouthed majority around you, right?

Ha, but you know what’s really going to happen? Nobody is going to notice or give a god damn about the shirt, because in the end it’s just a t-shirt. And it doesn’t matter.

Comments { 3 }

On baseball and revisiting past haunts

by on March 22, 2012, in but in our house we never get bored, jump aboard the crazy train, life etc., past lives, photography

On baseball and revisiting past haunts

Years ago, before Ian and I started dating, we took a trip to Atlanta together to see the Braves play. We had been friends for years, but it was the first out-of-town trip we’d taken together. When we got to the hotel, I fretted a bit over the single bed they assigned us, as I had a boyfriend at the time. I didn’t fret too much, though. It was the first of several trips Ian and I would take as friends, all of which I look back on fondly. Trips that eventually bled the lines between friendship and more. That led me to see who we really were to each other.

This Atlanta trip was not my first to the city, but it was my first Braves game. His dad had gotten us pretty good seats, I recall, and afterward we took the MARTA to Underground Atlanta and hung out in this dirty, dingy Irish bar called Irish Bred. There was nothing Irish about it, but it was filled with other 20-somethings pouring cheap beer down their gullets. We found a table on their patio and made friends with some people from the University of Florida. Or maybe it was Florida State.

Eventually we paid our tab and headed to the MARTA station—on the way to which we were accompanied by a homeless man who professed to know where the best party in town was, and would we follow him there? Ian had a bit too much to drink and thought this was a great idea, but luckily he took my advice and followed me to the train station instead (where he proceeded to inform me that the way to avoid potentially dangerous situations was to “make everyone aware that you are crazier than they are,” and then he began singing L.A. Woman, specifically that he was Chief Mojo Risin’).

We visited Atlanta again in 2003, and went back several times while we were dating, but we haven’t been there since we got married in 2008. But with the news of Chipper Jones retiring, this is going to change—this summer.

I don’t think our Irish bar exists anymore, and I’m not sure Underground Atlanta has fared well over the years, but it will be fun to go back and spend some time in one of our favorite southern cities, seeing what kind of mischief we can get into. That’s the thing about being married to someone you’ve known for 15 years—you have plenty of memories to call on, but it’s effortless to make new ones, too.

Comments { 2 }

Oh, Bonnaroo

by on February 18, 2012, in Internet, jump aboard the crazy train, stupid assholes

You’d think after 11 years they’d get that when tickets go on sale, a lot of people are going to want to buy them. Today at 10:30 a.m. I perched in front of my laptop, dutifully waiting for 11 a.m. so that I could buy tickets for Ian and I, hopefully at the lowest price point ($20 per ticket lower than the highest price).

Oh, Bonnaroo

After two and a half hours, I shut down the computer without a single ticket. I felt kind of insulted; I’d been kicked out of the system, given “unknown error” pages, had my browser(s) crashed multiple times. The one time I finally made it to the page where I could enter my credit card information I was told I’d taken too long and had run out the 15 minute clock. It literally took 14 minutes and 40 seconds to get through three pages to the final stretch, and then I got the big middle finger.

Eventually Bonnaroo took their ticketing system offline and replaced the fun graphic on their website’s home page with a note saying they’d be back later to let us know what’s going on. Around 8 p.m. I found a message on their Facebook page saying they’d let us know by Monday night when tickets will be going on sale. Again. Let’s hope they can get their shit together by then.

Otherwise, Ian and I are going to The Hangout festival instead.

Comments Off

Beta-testing Diablo III: My history with the Diablo series

by on February 9, 2012, in jump aboard the crazy train, past lives, video games

Beta testing Diablo III: My history with the Diablo series

I have been a Mac user (and Apple user before the first Macintosh was released) since I was five years old. If you read this blog often, you are probably already aware of this. Now, back in the olden days that we call the 80s, everyone used an Apple computer. I remember being allotted time in elementary school to play games like Oregon Trail, and later whatever that game was that taught you how to use a mouse back when mice were first introduced.

(Ok, time out: Typing that just made me feel really ancient.)

When I was in middle school, my parents bought our family’s first computer, and it was a Mac. One of those crappy mid-90s ones, but it was still a Mac. And even though we didn’t have it connected to the Internet (the only person I knew who had the Internet was my friend Sarah, whose dad worked for a telcom company), I played various games on it. Myst was my favorite, and then there was the Lemmings game. God, I wasted so many hours on trying to save those little assholes.

But by the time I got to college, the Internet was becoming more and more available. I bought my first Internet-ready computer in July 2000, an iMac DVSE, and I went out in search of more advanced computer games to play.

And then I realized that nobody gave a shit about the Mac OS. There were literally NO games that I wanted to play that were available for the Mac. I had a Super Nintendo and Nintendo 64, but I was kind of over those (they weren’t old enough to be considered vintage, they were just kind of old). The guy I was dating at the time was a gamer, and every time I would go to video game stores with him I would get super-depressed about the lack of cool games that I could play on my Mac (I would also get depressed that I was dating that asshole, but that’s another story).

But then one day I was in Game Stop (or I guess it was still called Babbages back then) rifling through the computer games in the sales bin and noticed a game called Diablo. It looked interesting enough, but most importantly it was Mac-compatible. And, since it had come out in 1996, it was like $20. I bought it, brought it home and played the shit out of it.

My Earthlink dial-up Internet meant the multiplayer games barely worked, but I didn’t care. I looooved that game. It was as creepy and bloody as the box led me to believe it would be. The storyline was simple: Good vs. evil, bad things coming up from the ground to destroy a town and world. It was a classic click-click-grab-loot game and it was perfect.

Once I beat it, I went back and bought its sequel, Diablo II. And it was even more awesome than its predecessor. The graphics hadn’t really been updated much, but I remember the loot and quests seeming epically improved. The game featured a secret cow level (that Blizzard maintains to this day doesn’t exist) that has got to be the best Easter egg ever created for a video game.

After I beat Diablo II, my aforementioned asshole boyfriend bought me the expansion, Lord of Destruction. (Side note: You know that World of Warcraft commercial where Aubrey Plaza talks about her boyfriend buying her the game for her birthday, and he eventually accuses her of liking it more than him and she realizes he’s right and dumps him? I can sort of relate to that. Because the Lord of Destruction expansion was the best thing I got out of that relationship, no joke.)

Anyway, Lord of Destruction added even more epicness to the game. More classes, items, some revamped gameplay, etc. I played that game for YEARS. In fact, I was still playing it off and on until just a few years ago. (Sadly the most recent computer I bought is too new to play Diablo II now.)

But the truth is, for my entire gaming life I have been more of a console gamer. I suppose this might have been different had I grown up a Windows user, but I just could never do that to myself. Over the years I’ve owned an NES, Super Nintendo, Nintendo 64, XBox, Playstation, XBox 360 and Playstation 3 (Actually we do still have an NES, N64, XBox 360 and Playstation 3—plus a Wii), but I never really got too much into computer games.

Except for Diablo. It started out as a game I picked up on clearance out of desperation and ended up becoming one of my two favorite video game series ever (it rivals The Elder Scrolls games that I’m obsessed with). Diablo 1 and 2 will always hold nostalgic value for me, as I played them during some years that were both exciting and tumultuous. But they were mine: My years, my games, my memories. I have a habit of attaching people to certain things, like music or places, and when the people are no longer around the pain of the past sticks to these things, weighing them down with so much baggage that I can no longer enjoy them. But Diablo was always just mine—a constitution for which I’m grateful.

And now, more than 10 years later, here I am. Older, wiser, happier, but still a gamer. And Diablo III is coming out, and I was selected to beta-test it.

And it’s going to be amazing.

Comments Off

Jan. 7: The gimp cage

by on January 8, 2012, in jump aboard the crazy train, photography, Project365

Jan. 7: The gimp cage

On Saturday, I went to a baby shower that not only served alcohol but gave it away as a party favor, too. Oh, and we played in what is called “the gimp cage” in the basement.

My friends are awesome. Best baby shower ever. (Congrats again, Lindsey!)

Comments Off

What grinds my gears: Gym edition

by on January 6, 2012, in jump aboard the crazy train, what grinds my gears

I am the last person who should be creating anything resembling a rule for working out, so I’m going to call these “suggestions.” I will say, though, that as a gym member for going on six months now (longest gym commitment ever!) I feel like I am in the position to discuss (read: bitch about) some of the etiquette breaches and plain old stupidity I see on a weekly basis.

So, listen up, douches:

  • Re-rack your weights. For the love of god, Beefcake, you are in this gym as often—probably more—as I am. You are not blind, so you also see that not everyone in here can lift/bench/press/push/kick/groan at 800 pounds. So for fuck’s sake, when you’re done working on your chiseled man-boobs or thighs of steel, can you please put the goddamn weights back on the rack? This is Gym Rat 101, by the way. I might be willing to assume you can’t read the signs posted everywhere, but I know you had to fill out a three-page contract to get in here so that’s not going to fly.
  • Wipe down the equipment after you use it. I don’t care if you just did two squats, you touched the handles of the machine with your sweaty hands, therefore you should wipe them off. There are containers of sanitizing wipes stationed all over the gym, too, so it’s not like you have to bring your own towel. Don’t be gross.
  • Don’t use your cellphone in the locker room. There are signs posted about this, too, and while I can’t speak to how well the rule is followed in the men’s room, I can tell you that the women blatantly ignore it. And I am not pissed about this rule-breakage because I think someone is going to snap pictures of me mid-pants-change. What irritates me is when I am trying to change into my workout clothes and all of the benches (and sometimes standing room) are occupied by teenage girls texting or Facebooking. You’re at the gym, for fuck’s sake. Go make use of that membership and use your phone on an elliptical like everyone else does.
  • Don’t spend all day on one machine, especially when you see people are waiting to use it. I get that you want your pecs to look bitchin’, brah. But if you’ve been at a non-cardio machine for going on 30 minutes and you notice the same three people meekly circling you, that’s a sign that you’re being a douche and should maybe get up and use something else for a while. Your overworked muscles will probably thank you, too.
  • Don’t work out in jeans and hiking boots. I know that clothes marketed as “workout clothes” can be crazy expensive, and maybe you just want to try out the gym for a while before committing to a new wardrobe. But jeans and hiking boots? Not cool. Hiking boots can potentially damage the machines, and jeans restrict your movement. I’m definitely not making a case for having to buy into the whole workout-outfit bullshit, but come on. If you go to the gym more than once, you probably should invest in at least one pair of sweatpants, one t-shirt and one pair of gym shoes. No matter how old or ratty they are, they have to at least be more comfortable to exercise in than denim, a polo shirt and Timberlands (or the giant construction boots I saw someone in the other day).

And that, my friends, is what grinds my gears at the gym.

Comments Off

On its way

by on September 6, 2011, in jump aboard the crazy train

Today was rainy, and it brought a cold in that we haven’t seen in some time. I turned the heat on in the car on my way home and the smell that accompanied the warmth through the vents stirred up those feelings I always get when fall is just around the corner.

A lot of people like the loudness and vibrancy of summer, but I prefer the stillness of the fall. The quietus that it promises. My body is getting ready to settle in for the deadening that’s required before everything becomes new again. Of all the seasons’ changes, I revel most in what fall brings.

Comments { 4 }

Kids in gyms: A new trend?

by on August 18, 2011, in health, or something like it, jump aboard the crazy train, me and Murphy Brown

Ian and I have been going to Gold’s Gym for about a month, and in that time I’ve noticed something disturbing: People are bringing their kids to work out with them. I’m not talking high school kids, I mean I have seen parents—men and women—setting elementary and middle school-aged kids up in the Circuit Training area and on the bikes and treadmills to work out alongside them.

Now, I’m all for teaching kids good health habits, but does an eight-year-old boy need to be lifting weights? Does a pre-teen girl need to run on a treadmill? None of the kids I have seen at the gym have looked obese, either, so I can’t imagine they’re there following a physician’s order.

I don’t have kids, so I am the last person that should be giving parenting advice—and I’m not. But when I was in elementary and middle school, I had gym class. I ran around outside at recess. My mom wanted me to be healthy, and I remember her doing some Denise Austin workout tapes in the basement, but had she been a member of a gym I can’t imagine her dragging me with her.

Maybe it’s my own issues I have with body image and how the narratives differ per gender (“men go to the gym to get beefy, women go to get un-fat”), but it just seems a little squicky to see young kids hanging around a place that, while helping people get healthy, is still promoting unhealthy stereotypes for the people within its walls.

I don’t know, I guess I just feel like these kids are going to feel pressure eventually to be thin or to be built eventually. Can’t they just enjoy the years in which they’re not supposed to care how their bodies stack up to society’s fucked up expectations?

Comments { 7 }

I started another blog

by on August 17, 2011, in blogging, jump aboard the crazy train, pop culture will suck out your soul

This one has a purpose though. An amazing purpose that’s not just navel-gazing for once. I present: X-Files On My Desk.

I started another blog

Comments { 2 }

Thoughts

by on July 29, 2011, in but in our house we never get bored, health, or something like it, jump aboard the crazy train, life etc., my cat's cooler than yours, the first rule is you do not blog about work

On Mac OS 10.7, otherwise known as Lion: So far I’m liking it, although I really haven’t gotten to delve into the newness of it too much yet. Except for the natural scrolling “feature” that was introduced. That one I got thrown into headfirst. Basically, Apple has changed scrolling with Lion to mimic the way it’s done with iOS. So instead of moving your fingers or mouse wheel down to scroll down a page, you are pushing the page up or pulling it down. It definitely felt more natural to me when using the trackpad (and, therefore, my fingers) than when using the mouse, but I think I’m about used to it now.

On the weather (because that’s all Middle Tennesseans talk about these days): It’s really goddamn hot. It’s been in the upper 90s for what seems like years now, and the humidity is about a billion percent. And for some reason my allergies are really, really bad this year. So bad that I’ve started doubling my dose of Zyrtec again, something my doctor told me to do one time in the past when I had a bad cold and that caused me to hallucinate and feel like I was walking around in a fog. So far I haven’t hallucinated or heard any voices, but I do feel pretty dizzy and out of it. We’ll see what happens.

On the cats: Somehow King Boo has won over Gordo, who, as you might remember, has hated him with a fiery passion of a thousand suns dipped in hatesauce since the day we brought him home. But we’ve caught Gordo grooming King Boo from time to time, and every morning they have Cat Wrestlemania in the bedroom and Gordo appears to be playing, not actually trying to kill King Boo. So, you know, progress. I’d also like to say a big fat I TOLD YOU SO to all of the haters in the house. I was the only one who liked King Boo when we brought him home, and now he’s won over every single living entity in the house except for Evil Twin, but he sucks and doesn’t count.

On jobs: My new job is still going swimmingly and sometimes I have to pinch myself. I’m starting to get some more responsibilities and pulled into various projects that have been pretty fun. And I still get tickled that I can mention a video game or some weird nerdy meme and not only do these people know what it is, they probably knew about it before I did. I am feeling more at home every day.

And Ian’s doing quite well in the job department, too, as he recently got a really big promotion and is now heading up the department where he’s worked for the last four years. He even has to wear a state-issued cellphone on his belt! Who’s the nerd now?! (Yeah, still me. I know.)

Comments Off
← Older posts