Showing posts with label DragonCon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label DragonCon. Show all posts

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Writers Unite!

It's like a whole different kind of Labor Day. One with books and readers and authors and corn dogs and beer. It's like the State Fair meets Bookworms.
It was the Decatur Book Festival.
 We had a booth for SCRATCH and WRITE BY THE WATER, as well an introduction to my e-book, Simple Intent.
 Oh yes, it's all the way the way.. or nothing around here.

This is scratch.


This is me telling a story... or ordering another beer from the booth across the way and hiding it in a coffee cup.


This is Dani Cook. An amazing poet, writer and WOMAN, right before we drank absinthe from a fountain. Yes, we did.


The DBF is my Labor Day weekend event. That and Dragon*Con. But not, in the true geek way. I just do "the bars" and "the elevator." hehehe
In other words, I'm a gawker. But a nice one.
This year, I took two Canadians, 2 mid westerners, 2 semi- southern gals on Atlanta's loverly MARTA system across town to the big Dragon *Con hotels, where we had a great time with drinks and music and new friends.


 One new friend is a famous artist! One is very tall and suave. And changes his outfit 10 times a day.  And one thought this Dalmation finger puppet was REAL.

Guess which new friend was really really drunk? 




I may never tell. You'll just have to join me next Labor Day weekend,  and work really really hard next to me all day, before we go out for fun, because as Aristotle said, "The end of labor is to gain leisure."

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Forget about the kids... throw yourself a HUGE Birthday Bash.

Since I turned 40, I took over my birthday party planning.
I decided only I knew what I wanted.
Is it selfish of me? 
 I choose to think not. We are our choices, right?
 And I wanted a celebration of getting through another year on Earth to be fun, adventurous, something unique. And I wanted to share it with my friends- people who I feel are all three of those things.
We have done rooftop dining and comedy clubs, paintball wars and Mexican food, obstacle rope courses in trees and ESPN zone, road rallies that ended at a place where an Elvis impersonator fried our catfish, then sang to us. We have played Whirlyball fortified with jello shots and taken houseboat lake cruises followed by so many wine laden courses at a shmancy restaurant that one girl took a potato home in her purse- forever giving us the term, "A tater for later." 


 The list of friends has changed a bit over the years, as people move away- both physically and emotionally, as life demands more of our time and provides less outlets...
 as calendars are more full of stuff we have to do than stuff we want to do.


So, this year, we tried to take all the work out of it. Toss your fav beer in a cooler. Get sitters for your kids. Stand in your driveway. And let's go have fun.



yes. it was a charter bus... and pretty darn big. The same one 50 strippers took to Miami two weeks earlier, earning 30k each for 5 days work and tipping the driver a record 5k.
 no kidding.
 Um. That smiling girl? She's not a stripper. But the guy in the hat? he might be.




 Because I am all about theme and that shit, we bought this beer.
 
Because we were going to this place for music, crafts, beer and fun.

See, we had the beer and the fun. You gotta rank things of importance.

This guy might be smelling the port-a-potty or that could be the gyro booth.


There was a MELLOW LOUNGE. I am not sure what was there. i was trying to play Eagle Scout and keep a large group intact. Let it be known, I was kicked out of Girl Scouts and made a really crappy Brownie, so whoever thought i should be in charge maybe also knows why Sweetwater calls their beer 4:20.
 Uh-huh.


After a while, we got back on the bus and took the scenic route to a teeny little theater in a questionable neighborhood. The theater dude encouraged us to BYOB. Man, does he know me or what? And we even shared with the actors on stage during the drinking game portion of the show.
 yes.
 The drinking game portion of the show.
I will have to upload that section on YOUTUBE tomorrow.


 these guys were great, and with a competition type format, it was full audience participation.


We went dancing afterward, and just to ward off the hangovers, we ate some spicy messy food.
We only lost a few people along the way.. somehow, I think that's a record. And for my bus riding pals, here's a song:

Some people call me the space cowboy, yeah
Some call me the gangster of love
Some people call me Maurice
Cause I speak of the pompitous of love

People talk about me, baby
Say I'm doin' you wrong, doin' you wrong
Well, don't you worry baby
Don't worry
Cause I'm right here baby, right here, right here, right here at home.

thanks for coming out to play

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Our Family Annual Report 2008/ The Cheap Christmas Card


OUR YEAR OF 2008 AS COMPARED TO THE XXIX OLYMPIAD

This year was a series of trials, sort of like the Olympics, but with less Chinese food and more Southern accents.
We had our technical challenges, beginning with Linda choosing to defect from Samsung to the BlackBerry team. There was a moment when she was wooed by a competitor, but even with its snazzy looking stylus she still couldn’t cope with the Microsoftness of it. She battled the internet to create a website for her new venture, scratch and maintain her own site.
More techical hi-jinx took center ring on the day C’s Guitar Hero 3 dongle died, reducing Slash shredders to the PS2 version and a 32 inch screen instead of the PS3 and 130 inch screen- all of which will only make sense to 64.8% of newsletter recipients.

The Olympic Torch fiasco of 1879 was re-visited on Lochwood Trail when the last of the Alabama Fireworks misfired causing severe injuries to the butt and lower leg of the lady of the house who happened to be comfortably ensconced, beer in hand, in her beach chair in the driveway. The dance display she put on when hit with the fiery balls was worthy of a gold in the Special Olympics. The resulting scars will be her medal of honor.

In Wrestling:
When Vishnu and David tear out your bathtub, it’s a whole new Olympic event, falling somewhere between Greco-Roman wrestling and judo. With underhooks, crossfaces and cutbacks, we broke through skill, language and tile barriers to pull off a victory in the heavyweight division.
C was taken to the mat by cellular phone roaming fees and ring tone downloads, while P used a whizzer attack in her attempts to break/lose her free mobile so that she might join the team of US Texters.
Coming up with the silver, M’s back door offense ruled over the Russians when he dropped his second or third walkie-talkie phone and may have even managed to run it over in a Cajun parking lot.
But Linda took the gold with the one step back and circle defense when her flanked Macbook crashed and she lost everything, leaving her with nothing but a mysterious flashing question mark- not only on her blackened screen but also floating above the heads of the Apple Genius Staff at the mall.

In Taekwondo:
Linda wanted to do a little martial arts on those guys, but didn’t want to end up banned for life from the sport. Instead she pulled a Matos and spat on the floor and was escorted out. Apple countered that the match was fixed and accused her of offering them money.
She took her high flying moves to the local bars and restaurants of her fair town where she only managed to get thrown out of two of them all year, definitely deserving of a medal.
On the other side of the stadium…

In Gymnastics:
There were some rhythmic gymnastics happening in the meat packing district when Linda went to NYC for the AWP which sounds like a lot of FUN. It was.
Meanwhile on the balance beam, M managed to keep one foot in front of the other performing trick after trick, despite landing on a rickety economic base. C showed off his talents on the bar, as a new high schooler. All that spinning and flipping was good until the flipping was aimed at the bus driver, then the spinning resulted in a disqualification by the principal.

In The Steeplechase:
We had our share of interactions with horses and horses’ asses, from our nonjumping horseback riding on the beach in Cape San Blas, to a government-issued obstacle course in which we’ve been leaping fences, creeks and secret hedges chased by our new friend Mr. Tax Auditor, whose favorite phrase is “I’m almost done.”

In Basketball:
"Any time you get beat it's embarrassing and that's enough," Bosh said. "And we can really use that as a tool … no matter how you're shooting the ball you're going to be in the game."
M took his game to the golf course. From weekend outings with friends to weekdays with clients, he chased the little white ball all over Georgia, even scoring tickets to a PGA event where he and Linda followed Phil Mickelson and Camilo Villegas and ducked when Anthony Kim’s errant shot on the ninth hole whacked a spectator in the head. Kim might be arrogant little man, but he was kind enough to autograph the ball after someone cleaned off the blood.

In Swimming:
No Michael Phelps stylish strokes here. Our events were held in the Florida Panhandle on a deserted Cape and in the Georgia mountains where we rode tubes down shallow rivers and fell into off-road gullies cushioned with poison ivy. Though there was a Phelps-like amount of pizza consumed.

In The High Dive:
P competed once again in the Odyssey of the Mind competition. All the practice in the world could not have prepared any of the kids or their ever patient, loving parents for the hurricane that ripped through the small Georgia town on the day of the meet up. Lucky to not be selected as the team who would wait out the storm in the boys locker room, Linda snuck her group out the door past security and all the way down the road to the Mexican restaurant, where she felt they would be best protected by cheese dip and Margaritas.

In The Pentathalon:
The animals in the house had their own pentathalon, though none of them are named Andrejus or Edvinas, they managed to shoot, fence, swim, ride and run us around, from dying hamsters to adoptable-via-Craig’s-List-you-know-you-want-one Guinea Pigs to hand-fed baby doves and aging dogs with pirate eye conditions that make them look like the homeless guy on the corner who says he’ll work for samwitches.
Linda’s annual birthday celebration had at least five events: dinners, lunches, drinks, a party that began on a tavern rooftop and ended at a comedy club. Instead of a gold medal, she received her first pearl necklace- in a box- from the store.
A few months later she competed in the pentathalon-like planning of the anniversary day. Highlights: tequila tasters, an hour of blindness (Dialog in the Dark), an hour of incredible sights (Biplane ride).

In Synchronized Swimming :
P’s love for the dance took a nosedive as her love for the grades won out in late Fall. The family’s love for the non-generic cheese thanks her. Ditto C’s guitar lessons AKA that-weekly-source-of-money-flinging. It had something to do with video games, web surfing and girls- and maybe a little to do with five hours of daily high school homework.
We finally managed to synchronize some extended family time starting with a surprise New Year visit by Mom, Dad and Alex, followed by summer in Baldwinsville where the cousins got to play, though synchronized would probably be the last word the grandparents would choose to describe those weeks.
It was a good idea until C came down with a 24 hour bug the night before departure- which meant 24 hours of puke gag puke, which is especially lovely when you’re stuck on the tarmac for over 3 hours.
Linda battled the same bug while making a synchronized exit to Southampton where she’d won a scholarship to write with the pros. There was lots of reading and writing and listening, moderated by totally non-equal amounts of drinking, dancing and exploring.

In Fencing:
Though some would argue that there should have been, there was no wearing of straitjacket-like fencing outfits here. Instead we drove straight to crazy with a trip to the sandy Florida Panhandle with a hairy dog, and spent days eating hundreds of Apalachicola oysters, an Olympic feat in itself.
In a counter parry, we returned home to more work for M and more writing events for Linda- a few that included sports cars when she was hired by both Porsche and GM. Touché.
She takes a few more awards and publication credits, and the gold after a year old blog post about a huge mean Cichlid garnered her more hate mail and free press than she could have imagined. En garde! Fish Keepers!
C had his own personal jab and parry when he pierced his own ears- at least a few times.

In Canoeing:
Unlike the Olympic canoers who overexerted themselves and fainted, we stayed relatively upright on a luxury houseboat for Cinco de Mayo. Being up a creek without a paddle is just fine with us, especially when you’re floating along with a captain, a bartender and lots of high end Tequila. (Partida!)
There are many different ways to traverse a watery plain, including the old slalom course approach which the kids nailed during a week at Church Camp. They managed to avoid any Eskimo rolls and returned a bit holier in hearts and clothes.
P did some fancy paddling when she hosted her birthday party at a kid’s beauty salon. Embarrassment, wild hair and nail polish reined in the river of youth.

In Track:
M’s increased muscle size made competitors wonder if there was something extra in his kool-aid, but his slow pace in the 400 and ability to crash on any couch removed any doubt that the man is all natural. C’s race approach was more hamster wheel than track and field, while P and her friend competed in javelin, hammer and discus in an outdoor meet at the fort in the woods, or was that saw, hammer, box of nails?
Linda sprinted from event to event, from literary venues to girl getaways, even joining the DragonCon team, where she competed in the Irish Car Bomb category, taking the bronze, while the gold was awarded to one very large Storm Trooper.
There was pole vaulting and high jumping and the throwing of a few discuses when the house became a 1920’s speakeasy for the annual murder mystery party, moonshine and tommy gun vodka included.

In the Triathalon:
Georgia gave us a triathalon from lake drainage to water shortage to gas shortage.
House repairs and maintenance continued to challenge in all three events of carpet, paint and remodel. The events may have been steroid enhanced by tours of re-fabbed Sears and Roebuck mail order houses in exclusive neighborhoods, or the million dollar estate homes with indoor basketball courts, arcades and private beauty salons.
We swam to the new Georgia Aquarium, biked to the World of Coke where we downed a few Beverlys, then ran to the finish with seats at So You Think You Can Dance and Neil Diamond.

All in all, it was a good year, breaking 43 world records, 132 Olympic records and earning multiple medals for endurance. We still have our hurdles to overcome and continue training for success.

Life is a marathon. Lace up your shoes and warm up your muscles, the race is on.

note: most of these events were written up in detail on this site and can be found in the tabs.. I'm just too lazy to insert the links

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Dragon*Con Atlanta 2008 Secret


SHHHH. This is the secret.
You can have just as good a time for FREE at Dragon*Con.
Skip the line and pretend you know where you're going. Head for the elevator.
then do what we did. Drink at all the lobby bars, ride the glass elevators and stroll the lobbies of 4 hotels, taking pictures like this:

Convince new friends to Play the "stranger in the picture" game
and laugh knowing all kinds of people will go home unable to answer the question, "Who's that blonde?"

Meet some crazy girls. Insult one by saying you love her gown, that you'd make chaise lounge cushions out of it for your blue and white room, then chug your beer when she tells you she's an interior designer.
Lie to them and say how clever or pretty or slick they are. Do not let them see you laugh.


Have friends with you who can camouflage your surprised, oh honey what did you do to yourself comment, into something that actually sounds nice.
I'm pretty sure I ruined some TV footage when I peeked over a trojan's shoulder,
inserting comments as he was interviewed for TV. ( you can see the press tags on the girl to his right and the camera over his left shoulder... ) gee, I hope that footage never surfaces when I run for President.
All in all it cost us a MARTA train ticket, a few hours away from the book fest and a shitload of drinks- which we would have had anyway.