Monday, July 31, 2017

Balthy Does Gotham

When my son Balthazar* was 8 years old I asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up. Because, you know, nothing like planning ahead. He answered, "A stand-up comedian." Which tickled me pink and sent me to the Interwebs to research opportunities for him. I discovered that NYC's Gotham Comedy Club offered a Kids 'N Comedy Workshop. The workshop culminated in a public performance that was just a few weeks away. On the appointed day, off we went.

The performers (mostly teens) were great and Balthy and I laughed a lot. At the end of the show the MC invited kids in the audience to go to the stage and tell a joke. Balthy and I exchanged looks--he'd recently learned a joke from a family friend and, after a nod from me, bravely made for the stage. Here's the joke he told:

A woman boards the bus with her baby. As she pays the fare the bus driver looks at the infant in her arms and says, "Lady, that is one ugly baby." She walks to the back of the bus, sits, and starts crying. A man a few seats over asks her what's wrong and she says the bus driver insulted her. The man says, "Well, you shouldn't have to take that, no one should! Go back up there and give that bus driver a piece of your mind! And don't worry, I'll hold your monkey for you."

The audience predictably groaned but Balthy told the shit out of that joke and I was hella proud (because "hella" was exactly the kind of proud you had to be in 2003). Afterward I asked if he'd like to enroll in a workshop like that but he declined, surprisingly. Still, I didn't (and don't) agree with forcing kids' interests, so I left the matter there.

Fast forward to fourteen years later and Balthy appeared on the Gotham stage once again, in last week's New Talent Showcase! Performances were recorded so comics would have demos to send out to agents and clubs and whatnot; Balthy's follows below.

*Balthazar is my son's Confirmation name, which I used when I began blogging because he was a minor and I feared online predators. The video reveals his identity and, since he's an adult pursuing a public career, I reckon it's all right to share it here. But he'll always be Balthy to me. Except when he's Seby.

Saturday, November 26, 2016

Stick a fork in me...

Fourchette dans le Léman
By Muriel from Lyon, France
(Fourchette dans le Léman), that's not the prelude to a steamy session of kink. (More's the pity.)

I'm done with NaNo. I'm calling it a little early, but call it I must. I managed two chapters but didn't clear even 10K words, much less near 50K.

C'est finis.

I dunno. Something, she ne marche pas bien, in my head. Something's not working.

I'm not raking myself over the coals for it, though. Even though I do have this honking huge fork, which'd likely be great for raking...

I'll figure this out.

In an unrelated story, here's a groovy, though NSFW (and/or children), tune that dropped, as the youths say, a few months ago. Have you heard it? Go on, give it a listen. It's damnably catchy.

Monday, October 17, 2016

Am I Really Doing This?

National Novel Writing Month
November 1-30
The world needs your novel.

I've just signed up for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month).

I'm out of my damned mind.

If you're doing NaNo, you're basically making a commitment to yourself to write a 50K word novel in the month of November. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

No. No, it's not.

It's SO not easy. I did NaNo back in 2008 and I didn't make the 50K word mark. But I did build a little story I want to get back to someday.

This is not that day.

I've been in a major depressive slump and haven't done any writing since last fall. Well, that's bullshit.

A friend of mind at work keeps asking me if I've been writing (she's read my first book and claims to love it, bless her) and I keep telling her no. But now she's holding me accountable, largely because I told her to. Just before a recent business trip, I told her to check in with me when I was back in the office, and to ask me if I'd made a fucking writing plan already.

She did. And I had.

It's NaNo. Because of course it has to be.

I broke out my monthly planner and penned (not penciled!) in when, and for how long, I'll write in November. I'll be working on the story I abandoned last fall, which has two chapters (that need revision, which I'll work on during the rest of October, as well as finishing up my research for the project).

Whether good, bad, or indifferent, I will bloody well finish this draft in November 2016. You know, barring Act of God or hangnail, or whatnot.

Who's with me???

Friday, July 15, 2016

Why May 2016 Mostly Sucked

So, mid-June I put up a long post detailing the shocking and untimely news of my ex-husband's death, which I had to break to our son, Balthazar, the day before he graduated college on May 28 (and two days before Balthy turned 21 on May 29).

I poured a lot of angst into that post. I was still in shock, I reckon (and perhaps I still am). I didn't give a hot damn about all the raw ick I laid out into the Blogosphere at the time, and I don't regret doing it now. I did decide, however, to remove the post, as it served its purpose of explaining why I'd become even more incognita than usual while providing me the outlet I needed at the time. I just didn't want it up anymore, but I did feel it right to bookmark the event, if you will, on my blog, as it's had quite an impact on my life.

Other reasons why May sucked:

  • I'd been putting aside money in anticipation of moving out of my parents' place (which I'd moved back into in the fall of 2012, as it was either pay rent or pay for Balthy's schooling, and Balthy's schooling won out, as is right and proper). I had a tidy sum set aside. With the death of Balthy's father, and the realization of there being no will (thus, no executor for the estate), I've had to fork over almost all of my savings to retain an estate attorney, who's to work on securing Balthy's right to administer his father's estate. The thing is, Balthy doesn't get anything in return for this right, it just means he gets to deal with wrapping up his father's life. The only benefit of being the administrator, really, is that he'll have the legal right to learn the entirety of his father's assets--though it doesn't qualify him to inherit them (because his father died while still technically married to someone whom he'd planned on divorcing anyway, but she'd only moved out and there was no legal paperwork citing a split, so she's legally entitled to quite a bit, actually). Ugh. Anyway, retaining a lawyer seemed the best way to protect my son's interests, so that's what I felt compelled to do. So moving into a home of my own again doesn't seem likely to happen this year after all.
  • My boss at my day job announced her departure for pastures greener. This was also an unanticipated event which rather blew my mind. We're to begin interviewing the folks who've passed the first phase of a phone interview with my boss' boss (my grandboss?) next week. Next week is also my boss' last week. I've worked with the gal for over a decade here, and while we've had our ups and downs, I love her like a sister and feel a bit at sea thinking of working without her. It's a bit weird, really. The other unsettling bit, of course, is not knowing how things'll be with the new boss. Fingers crossed for goodness.
  • Mid-May, a bunch of us from the office attended a week-long conference to learn a new software product we've just signed up for. The shit imploded my brain several times. As well, I developed a nasty allergic reaction to something on my face that week, which took about two weeks to heal--I initially thought it was a new skin-care product I'd tried but after another recent business trip which saw a minor version of the allergic reaction flare up, I'm beginning to think it's whatever's used to clean the linens. (I had the same problem from one other hotel, years ago.)
  • I lost my wallet. Had to cancel my debit/credit cards, file a police report, the works. GAH!
  • I started smoking again. Not at the level I used to, but after I had to deal with telling my kid about his father's death (!!!), I did fall off the wagon and haven't managed to clamber back on. Tentatively, I'm thinking I'll kick the cigs again on the three-year anniversary of when I initially quit (August 19). Right now, I'm forgiving myself for the crutch because I'm only human and dayum, shit got really real.

Here's the one good thing that happened in my life this May: my baby graduated college!

Balthy and GML on graduation day.
His cap is tilted so far back on his head
it didn't make it into the selfie.

He and his band are planning an East coast tour for end of July/most of August. In the meantime, he's doing a part-time internship at a comedy club (a perfect fit for him) and will likely look for more work when he's back from the tour.

I'd told Balthy I knew just the place I'd like to take him for booze once he could drink legally. Still owe him that outing, the prospect of which, I have to admit, is one of the few things keeping up my spirits*.

*Geddit, geddit? Spirits? Alcohol? It's a pun? Hey, It's been rough, give a Goth Mom (Lite) a break, wouldja?

Monday, May 16, 2016

Words, wOrds, WoRDS

Been a while since we played this game, eh what? Let's have at it, then.

Using the Random Word Generator at, I'm going to toss out a word and you're going to share the first thing that comes to your mind, in the comments section below.

Are y'all ready for this?

Today's random word is...


To learn what came to my mind, select the darkened text between the asterisks.


You guys know from tarot? In the average 78-card tarot deck, there's a card known as the "Eight of Swords." The usual artwork shows a gal who's blindfolded and bound, surrounded by eight swords which have impaled the ground around her. Her situation is problematic, certainly, but not hopeless. The rope at her wrists is loose, as is the blindfold. If she weren't so completely wigged out she'd test them and find that she could undo them. Then she'd see that there's enough space in between the swords for her to slip through and escape her difficulties. The main problem she faces, though, is that she can't see things clearly, and her confusion and fear prove an unnecessary barrier against sweet release.

I can so totally relate to this card.


Go on, then. Reveal unto the world what that word inspired in your little gray cells.

If you dare...

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