More Riding in Cars with 3rd Grade Drama Queens

We now join the post-kiss-and-ride-pickup conversation of a desperate working momma and drama queen daughter, already in progress:

“It was a good day… except, do you know what so-and-so thinks is a good insult, Momma? He says,” here Alli adopted a gruff schoolboy’s tone, “‘Your grandma’s butt!’”

I threw a quick, raised-eyebrow look at her. “Huh,” I said as I signaled and pulled into the jam of after-school traffic. “That’s kind of a stupid thing to say.”

Alli snorted. “I know. Me and Hannah think a good thing to say would be, ‘I’m sorry. We need an interpreter. We don’t speak idiot.’”

Wow. I didn’t even teach her that one! “Nice one,” I said, throwing a quick glance of motherly pride her way.

A proud smile crossed her face, but almost as quickly as it came, it wavered. “Of course then he’d probably hurl a rock at me, or something, huh, Momma?”

I pictured so-and-so in my head for a moment. “There is that possibility,” I finally agreed.

She was quiet for a moment. Then she smiled mischievously. “I’m sorry. I don’t speak idiot!” she said with a giggle.

I suppose she figured the satisfaction would be worth the risk.

That’s my girl.

I’m Shameless When It Comes to Plugging You…

Okay… well, that was supposed to be a play on the lyrics of Billy Joel’s “Shameless” (or Garth Brooks’, whatev, pick your poison, I don’t judge), but I realize now that it just sounds dirty.

Eh.

So I made this wicked awesome header logo for my Chassy Studios website (to match, but not totally match, DWM and TechnoGeekery) and I want to brag and whatnot, not to mention plug my services (dude, again with the dirty), even though I am actually too busy right now to take on any new clients, which is completely beside the point, clearly, but I thought I’d mention it, so step OFF me! GOSH.

What?

Ah, yes! The header logo! Shameless plug! Because of the wicked awesomeness!

Check it:

 

Eh? Eh?! With the Chassy Car and the Chassy Town and the Chassy Tree and Chassy Buildings and e’rything?!  Right?!

Wicked awesome. I’m just saying.

So… there you have it.

Oh, I’m shameless. I just wanted you to know.
Oh, I’m down on my knees… shameless.

Hmmm… there’s a joke in there somewhere. I just KNOW it.

Presenting Gravatars! Again!

Yay, y’all! Now we can JUDGE each other!

I dedicated a TechnoGeekery episode to this topic back in August last year, and then Gravatars went all crazy on me and everyone was like, “O. Em. Gee. Where is my stinkin’ Gravatar?! LAME!” But in the latest upgrade of Wordpress, they threw caution to the wind and built in Gravatar support! I know, right?! SWEET. Accordingly, the following information and TechnoGeekery video may be familiar to you, but watch again. (I’m testing out mdialog– as suggested by new TechnoGeek Gail Rivett– by creating a channel. Let me know how it works for you, especially those PC users out there!)

IF that doesn’t work for you, try this:

With no further ado…

In our day-to-day lives we can judge others by what they look like, what clothes they wear, how they talk, oh, all sorts of ways. But blogs and boards are so… anonymous. It’s not as if we can actually see each other, right? So how the heck are we supposed to judge each other?!

Fortunately, that’s where gravatars come in. With gravatars, we can create custom images that represent us. A personal logo, if you will. Gravatars identify us and say something about our personality. Which… ah-ha! Okay, what I meant to say was… ah-ha! Now we have something to work with!

Think about it. What can we infer about a person who creates a gravatar image featuring a fluffy white kitten perched atop a pink pillow? Um, cutesy, much? Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Conversely, what can we assume about a person whose gravatar features an image of Jude and Tommy during that scene on Instant Star when they were totally making out in the rain? Aaaw! Hopeless romantic, that’s what! Eh? Eh?

Take a gander at some random gravatars:

So if you frequently find yourself commenting on blog posts throughout the blogosphere, I strongly suggest you create a gravatar. You know… so people can judge you? Then your gravatar should appear whenever you post a comment to a gravatar-enabled blog—like Technogeekery.com, for instance. Hey, it’s easy and it’s free, that’s all I’m saying. Do what you want. I don’t even care. Much.

So… do you have a gravatar now? Well, what are you waiting for? Show off the darn thing by commenting on this vidcast, for heaven’s Pete sake. Do it, do it, do it!

Do it.

*UPDATED I’m Thinking!

There are thoughts being thunk. I promise! But I’m in a funk. Not to mention the fact there are, unfortunately, not enough hours in my day to plunk out said thoughts being thunk…

Aaaaaand now I’ve gone all Theodor Seuss Geisel on your ass– er, bootays. How incredibly lame.

I need a vacation.

That being said, I have a story. It’s a good one. It involves six impatiently eager children, six gaily wrapped presents, one tinsel-covered Christmas tree, and a dream. Oh, and Uncle Ron. We can’t forget him. This story spans years and years and has recently come to a rather interesting conclusion. Or beginning. I don’t know…

When I gather the thoughts I’ve thunk, the keys I will plunk.

Oh, dear lord. I’m LAAAAAAAAAME.

Until I get my blog on, feel free to click over to TechnoGeekery for my latest shows:

TechnoGeekery Show #29: What the Widget?!

*TechnoGeekery Show #30: Send Videos…One Click!

Seriously. What the widget?! Did anyone ELSE know a person with Safari and Leopard could DO this?! SWEET.

* Plus, to prove people watch, I need your videos now! Send whatever you want, except porn ain’t allowed! (Hey, that sounds like a song…)

Legendary Music Video

Okay, so I created this song using my mad Garageband skillz… also, by using a Media Converter to grab the karaoke version of the song off YouTube, but whatever. Still cool!

A legendary music video is in the works. I’m hoping to enter it in a contest and win some sweet prizes. Because I’m a huge geek?

Enjoy!

Or not. Whatev.

(BTW: Any thoughts on how to MAKE said Legendary Music Video would be much appreciated! I’m envisioning RockBand instruments… oh, AND a strobe light. Because, AWESOME?)

Cat and Paige Expose Leopard and XP Secret Tips at TechnoGeekery

A new TechnoGeekery episode– featuring a reunion of Cat and Paige from the wildly popular television recap podcast, Veronica Mars REWIND– is now up! Check it out!

TechnoGeekery Show #28: Leopard and XP Secret Tip

This secret tip is so wicked awesome it is sure to help alleviate even the worst mouse clicking fatigue. And, hey! Who knew Leopard and Windows XP had so much in common? BOOYAH!

Leap of Faith… Redux

I recently stumbled across the following post, which I wrote way, waaaay back in May of ‘05. In all honesty, it made my heart hurt a little to re-read it. Who knew I could be introspective and poignant? Sometimes? Okay, I may have even teared up a bit. Just a little! I know, right? Me? BIG BABY. Deal with it. Re-reading the post also inspired in me a wicked craving for a donut. Go figure.

In any event, I thought I would share. Or, rather, re-share. Share again? Whatev. You know what I’m saying.

_______________________________

I have no desire to be enigmatic.

But it is a scary place, my mind. Crowded with jumbled imagery and intricate stories and trivial pop culture references, with nowhere to go. All of the craziness shuffles and scuffles to be forefront in my mind, to be most important. To be first. “Let me out!” it all screams, because it has to go somewhere, right?

Sometimes, when I read a book or I see a movie, I catch the mood of the piece, and I cannot shake it. I am there, and woe unto any who try to break in, to find me. I am in it, and only I can find my way back out. I am not even sure if that makes sense, but it is most definitely the case.

I mean, I know other people can read a book and put it down. Me? I read the fifth Harry Potter book in one night. ONE NIGHT! That freaking book is over 800 pages long! Honestly. It can take me literally hours to stop worrying about the characters in which I have invested my time. I feel their pain, their joy, their despair, their triumphs. If the book is particularly well-done, if the characters are alive, if the mood is fully realized, then it can take me hours to stop feeling the book. To let go of it.

Other people can watch a particularly riveting television show or movie and walk away thinking, “Huh. Good show! What’s for dinner?” Me? I become emotionally invested in the characters. I will obsess about their lives and the “what if’s” for days on end. Weeks, even. Now do not misunderstand. This is not to say I cannot separate the fictional characters from reality. No worries. I absolutely can. What I cannot do, not right away, anyway, is to stop thinking about their stories. Taking them in new directions. I will spend hours weaving new stories for them. Sometimes I even dream new stories. But Leonardo da Vinci said, The eye sees a thing more clearly in dreams than the imagination awake. Dude was a wise Renaissance man, yo?

Which leads me to this: when I write stories? Oh BOY. I am SO living them. And it is so exciting! I get to be someone else! Well, for a little while, anyway. I become Goddess of the Story Universe! Bow to me! Then, inevitably, my characters begin growing and acting out in ways I had not intended, and I just get to go with it, and it is GOOD. Of course, I think this is why I enjoy happy ending so much, formulaic cliche be damned. I need them, or I am lost. Then again, my endings are not always happy. And I absolutely hate that, because I ache for my characters. But I love it, too.

For a long time I thought this craziness had a name. I HAD to give it a name. I was surely bipolar. Manically depressed. Obviously. It was the only explanation for the mood swings, the black days, the deep-rooted dark despair that settled into my mind and would not let go. Right? And what sane, happy person loses herself in television and books? Huh? Normal people with three beautiful kids and TGIM don’t act this way, right? Am I RIGHT?! I hated my career choice, my living situation, my life, and I could not shake the feeling that something was terribly, terribly WRONG with me, because everyone I knew insisted I should be happy, that I should be thankful, that I should just STOP wallowing and get on with living. And I wanted to. I WANTED TO. But I was stuck. So I turned to the happy pills. But the drugs? They did not help. Dispassionateness, for me, was not a cure. It was a bandage.

“You are just like my ex-husband,” my sister said to me. “You can be anything you want to be. Anything but happy.”

Oh, no she DIDN’T.

So I ripped it off that bandage. And I made CHANGES.

I found a job writing and quit my teaching job. I packed up and moved all the way across the United States, not sure when and if TGIM would follow, but sure it was the right thing to do. I began expressing the jumbled imagery, intricate ideas, and trivial pop culture references swirling about in my mind through the magical world of blogging. I made new friends. I discovered the words “job satisfaction” were not mutually exclusive. I pulled myself out of the rut of complacency and fear in which I was trapped and made some personally earth-shattering decisions regarding what I wanted out of life. And, yes, I hurt TGIM and others close to me in the process and, yes, almost lost everything. I know that. I OWN that. But these days? I’m starting to feel as if despite the excruciating pain I caused myself and others, I have gained everything.

TGIM thinks this is The Crazy in me. Sometimes he loves me for it, sometimes… not so much. Me? I am starting to believe The Crazy is simply the artistic temperament in me. And, slowly, oh so slowly, I am learning to embrace it. I am learning how to USE it, to hone it, to bend it to my infinite megalomaniacal will, mwah ha ha ha!…

Sorry.

The other day I stumbled across a quote by Edvard Munch, the artist formerly known as the man who painted The Scream. Okay, he is still known as that, I just like the allusion to Prince. Because Prince ROCKS. Anywhos, Munch wrote of the experience he had which triggered the creation of this masterpiece:

I was out walking with two friends - the sun began to set - suddenly the sky turned blood red - I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence - there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city - my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety - and I sensed an endless scream passing through nature.

As I read this I realized, hey, sometimes I sense that Endless Scream, too. I hear it! I KNOW it. And, slowly, I am learning to embrace it. I am learning how to USE it. I know, I know. Inscrutable, much? Talk to my family. But, then again, if I did not see the world this way, if I did not feel the world this way, how could I write? And writing? Makes me feel complete. Utterly, dizzyingly complete.

Well, writing, and a big ol’ cinnamon cake donut. Yummmmmm.

Take that, big sister. I CAN be happy.

A New TechnoGeekery: Hyperlinks and Hugh Hreffner

A new TechnoGeekery is up! You better mosey yourself on over to watch, if you want to be a part of the Super Secret HTML Club, that is. Just sayin’, the clock’s a-tickin’.

TechnoGeekery with Chassy Cat is brought to you by Aveeno Baby. Check them out!

In this episode– TechnoGeekery Show #27: Hyperlinks and Hugh Hreffner– Chassy Cat reveals all: learn how to make a hyperlink–a link to another web page, picture, document– in comment sections of blogs and websites using HTML, and become a brand new member of the Secret HTML Club! Which, of course, makes you super cool.

Woo!

Remember, Hugh Hreffner is the KEY… (and yes, I know it’s Hefner, but this is MY mnemonic device so step OFF me, yo?)

<a href=“URL”>Hyperlink Text</a>

That’s all she wrote, my TechnoGeek peeps.

Cat, OUT.

Driving in Cars with Kiddos

Sometimes big thoughts hit you during small moments.

For whatever reason, my kiddos and I were talking about the city that lives underneath Disneyland, full of offices and tunnels and security and employees making their way across the park without having to brave the crowds. I believe the Mickey Mouse Jail is underground, too. Not that I’ve ever been in it. But, hey, I know people who have, so HA!

“Hey, Momma, wouldn’t it be fun to live underground?”

Before I could say anything, Tanner butted in to say exactly what I was thinking. “No way,” he replied. “Everyone would be all grumpy and depressed…”

“Exactly,” I interjected, imagining a world full of people stricken with seasonal affective disorder due to sun deprivation.

“… until we evolved.”

Okay, I wasn’t thinking that last part.

“Evolved?” Allison repeated, her eyebrows going all wrinkly.

Tanner turned around in his seat to look at Allison who sat behind him in the middle row of our car. “Yeah,” he said, with that twelve-year-old air of confidence and superiority sixth-graders have before they go off to junior high and have it squashed out of them. “Then? We’ll lose our eyes and have to find our way around by echolocation.”

Okay, I wasn’t thinking that part either.

I could see in the rearview mirror that Allison’s eyebrows had flown up into her hairline as her eyes widened to enormous proportions behind her glasses.

Tanner, never one to miss an opportunity to showboat, cupped his hand to the side of his mouth and stage-whispered, “And then we become FISH!”

Allison gasped. Hannah snickered from the very back seat of the car, then continued reading the book that had miraculously kept her out of the conversation up to this point.

I looked over at Tanner–torn between reproving him for freaking out his sister or giving him props for his correct usage of sweet words such as “evolve” and “echolocation”– but before I could say anything he smiled smugly at his littler sister and said, “But don’t worry. Evolving would take years.”

I cleared my throat.

“Millions of years,” Tanner amended.

Allison’s tense little body sagged with relief. “I guess it wouldn’t be fun to live underground after all, huh, Momma,” she said.

“I guess not,” I replied, smiling at her in the rearview mirror. Then I turned to glance at Tanner, with what I hoped was a stern look on my face. “Echolocation?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “Fish?”

Tanner shrugged and smiled, then turned away to look out the window.

Echolocation, I murmured to myself, amused. Evolution. I ever-so-slyly stole a look at my son, and suddenly, in that small moment, the big thought struck. We may have millions of years underground before we evolve into freaky, sightless, echolocating fish, but my son appears to be evolving right before my eyes into more and more of a handsome young man than my sweet little buddy boy.

And that quickly, evolution didn’t seem all that funny anymore.

“Echolocation!” Hannah piped up from the back seat as she slammed shut her book. “Like bats!” she added with a giggle.

At that, I burst out laughing. Because honestly. Echolocation? Still funny.