Monday, March 27, 2006

Bits and Pieces


Father of the Bride rehearsals are in full swing. Well, they were, until Spring Break shut down Zionsville. I think I'm the only cast member who is not spending the week in a tropical environment. At least we'll have the tannest Father of the Bride cast known to man.

Urinetown at Footlite Musicals was excellent. I would recommend you go, but it closed a few weeks ago. Oh, well, you can see it the next time it's done in this town. Because hopefully I'll be in it.

I've had two of my four small pit cavities filled. They numbed - or paralyzed, which is a more accurate term - the right side of my mouth in order to fix them. Because of this, I spent half of St. Patrick's Day imitating a stroke victim. My appointment was at 8:00 in the morning and for some dumb reason I went to work when it was over. I couldn't help anyone, since you couldn't understand a word I was saying. Needless to say, I've already scheduled a personal day for when the remaining two cavities are filled in April.

I watched the fourth Harry Potter movie, which I believe was called Harry Potter and the Similar Plot. Seriously, each one of those movies is the same as the last, with only little differences. This time the big change was Harry and his friends noticing the opposite sex. That's it, they noticed them. Harry crushed on a Japanese girl with a Scottish accent, a strange combination if there ever was one. I think he asked her out somewhere around the two hour mark, but I was kind of dozing by that point so I'm not sure. Another thing that bothers me about the Harry Potter movies: Why must every film end like a bad episode of Scooby-Doo, with a character getting his mask ripped off and being exposed for the evil person he really is? I half expect the next film to take place at a haunted abandoned amusement park.

I had a dream the other night where I was hanging out with a friend of mine and Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Because I wanted to prove that we were having dinner with an Oscar winner, I brought out my digital camera to take a few pictures. But my camera wasn't working. The three of us decided to call Tech Support, and, for laughs, we decided it would be funny if Mr. Hoffman spoke to the technician while using his Capote voice. We all laughed hysterically listening to Truman Capote explain why his Fuji digital camera was busted. I don't understand my dreams sometimes.

Spring arrived in Indiana. As is customary, it was welcomed with four inches of snow during morning rush hour. It took me over an hour to drive my normal twenty minute commute. By noon it was pretty much gone.

And that's it. Promise it won't be another twenty days before the next update.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

I Thrill When I Drill A Bicuspid

I have finally, after a 10+ year hiatus, gone to the dentist. It wasn't because my teeth were hurting; no, I decided that since I've had dental insurance for years it was high time I used it. And it helped that Krista, everyone's favorite tap-dancing King Herod dancer from Jesus Christ Superstar, is a dental hygenist and a friend. It also helped that her office is located in Fishers, less than five minutes from my house. So, after months of delaying the inevitable, I made an appointment and faced the music.

Krista began the appointment by taking photos of all my teeth, which means that now if I'm ever killed in a fire I can easily be identified. She then proceeded to torture me by poking my gums with a sharp hook-like instrument until they bled. After that she sandblasted the decade worth of tartar buildup residing on my teeth. And then she scraped some more. And some more. And some more. It didn't hurt...much.

I'm very lucky. Other than the usual tartar buildup and four small pocket cavities - whatever those are - my teeth and gums are in great shape. And now my new goal is to begin regular visits to the dentist again. My next cleaning appointment is in six months; they didn't recommend waiting ten years before I came back.

Side note: This morning, my iPod chose to wake me up to Steve Martin's version of "Dentist" from Little Shop of Horrors. I swear to God that wasn't planned; I have it set to randomly select something so I can be surprised. Very appropriate way to start the day, I thought.

My car is fixed. Something was wrong with the power steering pump. And there was nothing wrong with my seat; that was all in my imagination. I was given a rental car this afternoon since I've had a lot of problems getting my car fixed. You probably saw me tooling around the streets of Carmel this afternoon driving a Kia Sportage. Everyone at work is really confused; it seems that every day I pull into the parking lot in a new car. That would be nice, but no way that's happening on my salary.

Monday, March 06, 2006

Vehicle Woes

My car. Oh, my car. It's going back into the shop tomorrow. It has started making a strange grinding noise whenever I turn the wheel, accelerate or brake. In other words, it's making a strange grinding noise all the freaking time. And it's making it in an area where the accident occured, the driver's side front tire. I talked to both the body shop and Volkswagon, and neither one agreed to look at it as a wreck-related problem. Instead, they said they would have to investigate and determine whether or not it's making that noise because I was rear-ended by some jackass on a cold January's night. If not - and that's the answer I'm expecting, because, really, how else do you expect this whole saga to end - I will have to pay for this repair out of my own pocket. And it's not something I can ignore, either. It's loud and sounds like the wheel is about to fall off my car.

I did tell them to look at my driver's seat while they were at it, since it feels like its broken now, too. Again, neither one of them would say it was wreck-related. Although, as I pointed out, before the wreck the seat was fine. After the wreck it wasn't. It doesn't take a genius to figure out when it broke and why.

I just want my car back. This whole thing is pissing me off. The irony of it is that the jackass who rear-ended me on that cold January night has probably been driving a new truck two days after the wreck because his insurance company totaled his vehicle. Meanwhile, $12,000 and nine weeks later, I'm still trying to get mine fixed. Where the hell is the justice in that?

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Impromptu Revival

Today at 2:15 p.m. my cell phone rang. It was my friend Michelle, inviting me to a concert her church choir was performing in Indianapolis. It was an immediate invite: The concert began in 75 minutes on the west side of town. And right after she gave me the address (but not the church name), her cell phone went dead. I had very little to go on other than she was singing at a church on 52nd Street.

So, of course, I went.

The show began at 3:30. I reached 52nd at about 3:20 and figured I had plenty of time to get there. But then two things conspired against me: Mapquest and a surprising flare-up of dyslexia. (Which I don't have.) Mapquest told me to turn left on 52nd, so I obeyed. And I would have driven the 0.7 miles to the church it told me to, except the road ended about 0.4 miles later. And then, for some reason, I read the address on my directions as "6252" instead of "5262", which equally confused me. Anyway, long story short - too late - I turned around and found a church. Not sure if it was the right one, I tentatively went inside, where I heard a choir. I quietly stood in the back, looking for a familiar face. (Besides Michelle, I knew two other people in the group.) My plan was to bolt the hell out of there if I didn't. But I did, so I snuck into the sanctuary as quietly as I could and watched the show.

It was a great program. Not being a churchgoer, I knew very few of the songs they sang, but they were all handled beautifully. Even that one song where they kept chanting, "God's gonna burn the whole world down and you're all gonna die" sounded like a group of angels singing it. Angels threatening to kill me, that is.

Here's something I didn't know about Michelle: The girl can wail. Like Mariah Carey wail. I'm glad there weren't any stained glass windows in the church, because she would have pulled a Memorex and shattered them.

Bonus points for those of you who get that joke, by the way.

It was a nice and surprising way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Unfortunately, one thing took a hit: I was going to use that time to call my mother. Sorry, Mom. You'll hear from me soon.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006


* This is my 200th post in a little over two years. Not a great batting average, but better than nothing, I guess.

* A goose nearly flew into my head tonight. I was leaving the gym and walking back to my car when all of a sudden I heard loud squawking noises and frantically flapping wings behind me. I had to duck to get out of his way. (Which gives new meaning to the phrase "Duck Duck Goose". Thank you! I'll be here all week!) That's all I needed, to be hit in the head by a goose.

* I spent last Friday night in a haunted house with some friends. Yes, we did some ghost hunting, and yes, there really are tools that people use to measure for ghost activity. It was like Ghostbusters, only without the giant marshmallow man attacking the city at the end. I didn't actually see or hear any ghosts, but we did have an intense few hours where something was happening. I'm not sure what, but it was pretty eye-opening. At the end of the evening I was asked to join the Indianapolis ghost hunting society, but I turned them down. I have to admit, I'm still a bit skeptical. Once a cynic, always a cynic.

* I have my car back. It seems fine, although it reeks of vinegar on the inside. The cleaning solution they used to detail it was pretty strong. That's a bizarre trade-off to get it back, but I'm willing to live with it. It's pretty much a brand new car; they replaced nearly everything on it, right down to both windshields. I believe the only thing that's original to it is the stereo. In the end, being rear-ended cost $12,000 in damages. Why it wasn't totaled, I have no idea.

* Just to test Holly to see if she is reading this, I will now write about a computer's Word program that had a bunch of open toolbars on it.

* On second thought, I will not write about that.

* Wedding Crashers was alright but not the roll-on-the-floor-and-clutch-your-sides-in-agony-from-laughing-so-hard type of hilarious everyone made it out to be. It started off horribly and didn't really get funny until they went to Walken's house. After that I laughed a lot, but that first half hour? Deadly.

* I saw the film version of Rent this weekend. I'm torn on my opinion of it. Part of me really enjoyed it, even though my eyes hurt from all the rolling they were doing. (That trip to Santa Fe was pure cheese.) And part of me kept wanting to scream at the television, "Get a freaking job! Earning a living is not selling out!" I liked how the majority of the original theatrical cast were also in the film, and their age difference didn't bother me at all. If anything, it made the plot more believable. Music-wise it was a bit dated, but overall it worked. Hey, the music in Jesus Christ Superstar isn't exactly timely, either, but I'm still singing "What's the Buzz" one year later.

* Rehearsals for Father of the Bride begin Sunday night, so I want to warn everyone now that the blog will either a) become Father of the Bride's World, or b) go on another extended hiatus. After all the (strongly) suggestive e-mails wondering why I hadn't updated my blog the last time I took a break, it will more than likely be option (a).