Visit TechnoGeekery.com: Cat’s Vidcast O’ TechnoGeekery

Yo, yo, yo, dawgs! Come on over and check out my new video podcasts at www.technogeekery.com! They’re tutorials for those of you who want to do cool things with technology, but don’t want to weed through all the complicated jargon and boring tutorials and whatnot, for goodness Pete’s sake!

Technogeekery Show #1: Blog Basics and Beginnings

Technogeekery Show #2: RSS feeds… what are they good for?

Technogeekery Show #3: Gravatars. It’s All About Image.

I’ll be posting a new vidcast every week, so be sure to bookmark me and subscribe to my feed!

Um, that is all.

In Which We Observe the English Geekery of Cat’s Children

Conversation in the car while driving home from an afternoon outing:

“Hey, Dad! Mom!” Alli suddenly piped up from the backseat. “That boy in the car next to us? He just waved at me gleefully!”

Tanner and Hannah snickered from the backseat.

“Did you say… ‘gleefully’?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice from breaking with the trill of laughter bubbling inside of me.

“Yeah! Look! He’s all waving at me gleefully!”

TGIM and I exchanged looks brimming with laughter.

“Yep. She’s your daughter,” he said.

*********

Conversation while watching Never Been Kissed, a movie throughout which Drew Barrymore’s character corrects the grammar of everyone around her:

After being asked where she was the night before, Drew’s character (Josie) answered, “Oh, I must have forgot.”

“‘Forgotten’,” Tanner quickly corrected, more to himself than anyone else. “She should have said, ‘I must have forgotten.’”

Silence. Then… “Very nice! High fives and kudos, my English geek son!” I gushed, near-bursting with motherly pride

With a half-proud, half-embarrassed grin, Tanner slapped my outstretched hand.

“NICE,” I repeated, shaking my head in admiration, before settling back to enjoy the rest of the movie.

More Toilet Etiquette, AKA Quest for a Lost Civilization

Never–under any circumstances–should the handle on the INSIDE of the bathroom stall be wet. Never! Do you hear me, people?! Never EVER! What are we… Neanderthals? Are we a civilized society or WHAT?! Huh?! WELL?!

Now, if you will excuse me, I have a second date with industrial-strength disinfectant soap and some nearly scalding water.

*eeuugh*

Home Again, Home Again…

…jiggety jig!

Er… and something about a fat pig? What?

In any event, woo-hoo! The kidlets are HOME. And thanks to Charlotte in PA, I had a gift for them and e’rything!

The HSM2 stickers you sent were a ginormous HIT, Charlotte. And Alli has offered to share the body stickers, so FOOYAH! Oooh! I call Zac Efron! For on my body! I mean, any one of them will be good. Whatev…

*phew*

The kids are home. I can breathe again.

Hurray for YAY!

With My Apologies to Stan and Jan Berenstain:

Hurray! Hurray!

They’re on their way!

The kids are coming home today!

My World Is Askew

I seem to be suffering from a severe case of writer’s block. Blockage. Block-o-ramma. Which sucks. Suckage. Suck-o-riffic. I mean, it’s better than a cough due to cold, but still.

That is all.

…

WHAT?

I just told you! Blockage?! Keep up.

Stardust: Storybook Romance at its BEST

If you love a good boy-meets-girl storybook movie (Think Princess Bride, but more romantical) chock full o’ comically nasty witch queens and evil princes, fantastical sorcery and swordplay, and Robert DeNiro in drag, well, this one just magically fell into your lap:

Stardust, adapted from a novel by Neil Gaiman.

I saw it last night, and I have to say it is charming. No, really! And I’m not just saying that because it’s a wicked good pun. Okay, I AM saying that because it’s a wicked good pun, but also because it’s TRUE! Utterly charming. And FUNNY. And romantical. Did I say romantical?
*sigh*

This is the date movie of the summer, y’all. I mean, nothing warms the cockles of one’s heart like a story of an impetuous young man setting out on a magical quest to retrieve a fallen star in order to impress his beautiful but cold unrequited love, am I right? Eh? (And when that unrequited love is played by Sienna Miller, you just KNOW it will take a ginormous gesture to win her affection.) And when a packed theater (packed! a week and a half after its release!) is laughing and cheering throughout the movie–so much, in fact, that you will probably have to go see the movie again because you missed some parts due to the laughter and cheers from the audience– you know there’s something special going on.

Honestly. This movie is one of those rare, boy-meets-girl, storybook romances that actually EARNS its sweetness. And I think I have a new secret movie character crush in the impetuous Tristan (played by Charlie Cox). Allow me to say… RAWR.

Plus, did I mention Robert DeNiro in drag? Yes?

Well, there you go.

No need to thank me. It was my pleasure.

Customer Service Crisis

It used to be that cashiers were all friendly and gabby and customer service-oriented. Hell, back in my high school days when I worked the cash register at Burger King (shut up) I was all ABOUT the customer service! With the smiling? And the polite chit-chat? And the attention to detail? And the speaking of English?

Not so anymore! No, sir! It seems that lately, I’ve had to forgo the retail chit-chat and spend the majority of my time just trying to understand what the frak the cashier– whether at the drug store, the grocery store , the drive-thru (dyeh! “through,” damn it! “THROUGH”!)–is trying to say to me.

Honestly. Just last night TGIM and I made a quick stop at our local drugstore for some earplugs so I could make it through the night without walloping him or violently shoving him over on his side in order to make the horrid–horrid!– snoring go AWAY. As we were checking out, I stood next to him at the counter, engrossed in OK Magazine (Britney jaccuzzied nekkid, y’all! For reals!), as TGIM waited, cash in hand, for the total.

“Seebee yacaw?” I heard the cashier say.

Silence.

I looked over at TGIM, who had that hunted, I don’t know what the freak is going on look on his face.

“Seebee yacaw?” the cashier repeated. A bit testily I might add.

Silence.

TGIM stared blankly at the cashier for a moment, opened his mouth as if to say something, thought the better of it, glanced at me, then back at the cashier.

Luckily I am nothing if not a Super Saver, so despite the rather thick– now, I’m going to go out on a limb and call it Asian– accent (I didn’t take the time to ask him the specifics of his ancestry, me just buying ear plugs and all, but I’m fairly confident in my profiling skillz), I knew what the grumpy man wanted. “Our CVS card is in my wallet,” I told the cashier, “which is at home.”

TGIM’s face cleared. “Oh!” Then his smile faded. “Oh.” Because we like to shop the sale, yo?

Figuring we were good to go, I dove back into my magazine. (Adam Sandler is using a BUTT DOUBLE in his new movie? Get out!)

“Fo numbah?”

Silence. Then, “Um, Cat…?”

I must admit, the only reason I had a clue what the man said was because I know that at this particular store when we are too disorganized to know where our Super Saver cards are– as they have apparently broken off in the dark recesses of our purse, somewhere alongside a lone breath mint and the coins we can always hear clinking in there, lost forever and ever– all we have to do is rattle off our phone number. Which I did. It didn’t process. I tried again. Still no luck. TGIM said, “Let me try mine.” Before he could, however, the cashier barked out the total and put his hand out for our money.

No sale price for us!

Now let me tell you, when I was a Burger King employee, you–as the customer–Had It Your Way, damn it! YOUR WAY! And if employees weren’t all cute and perky and personable at the register, they dragged your non-customer-service-oriented ass back to the fiery pit of hell that is Broiler Duty, by GOD, they did!

Well, except if you were TOO perky and personable, like those times I’d spot a cute boy at the front counter, and I would drop the Chicken Tender I’d been snacking on and race my friend Shane (whose flamin’ gayness was only superseded by the bigness of his Flock of Seagulls ‘do) to the registers where we would jostle for position and hurry to be the first to greet the customer–”WelcometoBurgerKingMayIHelpYouGetOFFme!”– thus securing the sale. Although if girlfriend thought he could out-perky me, he was seriously trippin’. I was a CHEERLEADER. Just sayin’. Then again, if his choice of coiffure was any indication, I’d say “seriously trippin’” was a safe bet. But we were FRIENDLY, see? And spoke with the English? That’s all I’m saying.

But whatever.

My point, you ask? Well… I don’t have one, really. It just bugs me that because I spend so much time at the cash register simply trying to be understood (or to understand), I can’t make with the friendly. Or Shop the Sale. OR finish even one measly magazine.

*gasp*

OMG. I just realized! If customer service continues in its downward spiral into the proverbial toilet… I may have to start subscribing to magazines.

Ah customer service! Ah humanity!

That Thing You Do

You know how sometimes you do that thing when you’re all alone? You know… that thing? C’mon! That thing? YOU know. Where you get all comfy in the bed and turn the lights down low and pop the two-part Season Two finale of Buffy the Vampire Slayer into the DVD player, then sit back and enjoy the wiggins when Willow goes all uber witchy, then cry like a baby– big, heaving sobs, you know?– right there at the end, when Buffy kisses Angel, her true love, then runs a sword through him– to save the world!– and the haunting strains of Close Your Eyes crescendoes and Angel whispers, “Buffy…?”– all confused-like– just before he is sucked into hell, and Buffy is sobbing and then the ache in your throat is too much to bear so you begin bawling and hysterically sobbing “Whyyyyyy, God, whyyyyyyy?!?!”– just letting it all out, you know?– especially when Sarah McLachlan starts in with Full of Grace, AKA The Heartbreaking Song O’ Sorrow and PAIN?

You know? That alone thing? That you do?

No?

Yeah. Me neither.

I Think I Love Him!

So, when my good buddy at work, let’s call her H (see, Harriet? I’m keeping you Anonymous!), brought ’round to my cubicle her brand-spankin’ new copy of Constantine’s debut record, entitled “My Secret Greek Idol Luvah”– er, I mean, “Constantine”– I was prepared to mock.

Yes! I admit it! I was! So what?! Huh?! A girl can’t mock if she wants to?! HUH?!

I mean, honestly– I’m not going to lie– I was not a big fan of the ‘Pray For the Soul of Betty’ music, so I may have had on my Skeptical Face when Harriet– I mean H– proudly showed me the album.

But, then… the Pretty! With the Smoldering? I was transported back to AI days of yore, I tell you, the moment I saw my brooding Greek Idol Luvah eye-sexing me up from the cover of his album. So I grabbed that bad boy, slid it into my computer, popped in the ear buds, and gave it a listen.

Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather, and that is no lie. Because– God help me– there was only ONE song on the whole album… that I DIDN’T love. I found myself boppin’ to the music as I worked, rewinding parts of songs that were particularly catchy, and actually stopping a few times to appreciate a particularly enjoyable ballad. I mean, I suppose I knew this, but beyond the smolder and the eyeliner and the pretty highlights and the eye sex and the overall posturing, dude can actually SING.

I know, right? My world is askew!

Eh. I suppose there is something to be said for Constantine not rushing to record and release an album as soon after the show as humanly possible, like other past American Idol contestants who– not wanting to miss an opportunity to ride the wave of fame that the juggernaut American Idol bestowed upon them– ended up with a rushed and mediocre release, and have since faded into anonymity.

Good on you, my Secret Greek Idol Luvah. Good on you.

(Call me.)

Thank you for not sticking your nose in my uterus.

My good friend Kelly over at Klog wrote of an experience she had last weekend at a hotel when an uppity hotel employee who was supposed to be restocking the continental breakfast bar began to harass her and her hubby Rob for a bit about their duty to procreate.

No, seriously. She was neglecting the bagel bin to harass them! Honestly. I would have been all, “Hey! Stop your yammerin’ and gimmee my bagel, lady! I’m HUNGRY!… Oh, and do you have any more of those little cream cheese packets?” (I’m a little testy when I’m hungry. Low blood sugar, and all that.) But that is so not the point.

While I was appalled at the effrontery of the neglectful bagel re-stocker, I will admit that I definitely think it’s natural for people to go all Pregnancy Patrol and say things like, “Oooh, y’all are so cute! You’d have the prettiest babies!… so what’s up with that?” It has something to do with the human imperative to procreate. Oh, and that categorical imperative which requires that nosy people get all up in a person’s bidness. And I do think there is a compliment in there somewhere. People think you’re pretty! And would have cute babies! At the very least… flattering, right? Not that flattery will get up at two a.m. to feed a hungry baby, but still… you’re pretty!

However… while perfect strangers have every right to see a cute young couple and think something along those lines, it is a very different thing altogether to express said thoughts aloud. So very inappropriate! Good lord. I agree with you, Kelly. People DO need to stay the hell out of a person’s uterus, the bizzyotches. I vote that you go with the “I have sex JUST for fun” t-shirt. Think of all the fun confrontations… I mean, conversations that bad boy would cause! Am I right? (I like the “Thank you for not sticking your nose in my uterus” slogan idea, but I think it may leave things too open to interpretation… oh, you know who you are! **cough**NILBO**cough**)

On the flip side:

If you’re me, you get, “Good lord. Are all those yours? [insert look of abject horror] Wait… you don’t plan on having any more of them, do you?”

Or– if you’re a part of TGIM’s family– you get, “When are you having more?!”

Coincidentally, just the other day as I sat in a salon chair staring with fascination at the sticky, tin foil faux hawk my stylist was creating with her crazy mad hair-coloring skillz, the usual questions began. And, as usual, they drifted into kid territory.

“What?! You have three kids?! THREE?! Wow! When did you start having babies? When you were twelve?! HA! HA! HA! How old are they?… Oh my GOD! Did you MEAN to have them so close together like that?! That’s crazy!… Hey! Can you believe she has THREE kids?! Yep! THREE! She looks twelve, right?! HA!”

At this point, everyone in the salon was sneaking stealthy yet totally obvious peeks at me, the crazy lady, the abnormally fertile momma. Hey. Don’t get me wrong. I like attention as much as the next attention whore, but at that moment, strangely, I was wondering why it is that the earth never opens up and swallows you whole when you WANT it to? Because honestly… where could I go? With the freaky foil faux hawk? And the prolific procreation skills?

But then my hair turned out all cute and stuff, so I was like, “Eh. That’s me. I’m a child-birthing fool… with some super cute hair! Take that, loudmouthed, rude stylist who I will totally be coming back to because LOOK AT MY HAIR! Cuteness.”

So, you see? The madness? Sorry, Kelly. Babies or not, it never ends.

Baby Steps

Remember how I found a karaoke video on YouTube, and I just couldn’t resist? Do ya? ‘Member? The song from Instant Star?

Okay, so I’ve thought about it… and, well, who am I to deprive ANYONE of their God-given right to mock?! Just showing my voice and some pictures… what’s that all about?! Huh? Pshaw, right?

Plus, I was tired of TGIM calling me a big old chicken-sh… well, you know the rest.

In my defense, who can enjoy singing a song if you ain’t FEELING it, dawg?! Not me, that’s who! I’m not made of STONE!

So here you go, Mrtl (and TGIM). Mock my socks off.

Introducing TechnoGeekery with Chassy Cat

Okay, so I’ve been asked to produce a technology-themed vidcast for an upcoming family channel on Podango. HEY! Stop snickering! It’s true! I’m all about the techno tips and tutorials! For reals! We go live in September. (Don’t even think I can’t hear you laughing…)

Truthfully, this is a podcast geared toward the techno-challenged, produced by the techno… not-so-challenged. You know. It’s BASIC. Not like short-bus basic, but beginner basic. I just envision my momma as my target audience and away I go!

I’m working out the kinks in production value and trying to find the balance between educational and, well, silly. Because if you want excruciatingly boring, jargon-filled tutorials you’ll go to the Big Guns, right?! Or, like, take a freaking class or something! Honestly. I’m doing this for FREE, so step OFF me.

So, here is #2 (I’m re-shooting #1, lighting is the DEVIL). Feel free to offer suggestions (PLEASE offer suggestions), or to request your own techno tips (PLEASE suggest techno tips). In the next few episodes I’ll be covering iTunes Tricks and Tips, Gravatars, and the latest in IM jargon (you know, so you can be down, have the 411, so your kids/friends will know that your momma didn’t raise no foo’.).

Wedding Tips from the Kiddos

Here’s the thing… I threw together this “wedding video” (sarcastic quotes will make sense shortly) in an afternoon, so we could give it to TGIM’s youngest bro before we left Podunky Small Town, AZ.

I edited out all the cheesy baby pics and lovey dovey wedding crap and just left the extraordinarily helpful wedding tips my children had for the newlyweds.

As a service to all those in relationships in the blogosphere, I will share these special tips. Because I’m cool like that?

(Plus, I just reinstalled Podpress and need to test my feed.)

But mostly, I’m trying to do a Public Service! GOSH!

(With Titanium by Lee Coulter and Must Have Done Something Right by Reliant K.)