MrSteve May Know Too Much

MrSteve called Friday morning for a chat, and ended up getting more than he bargained for (don't worry, he's used to it). Specifically, he got some (slightly) greater detail on my encounters with the stranger than I went into on the blog. Which really just confirmed what he'd already assumed, to wit:

"I kind of figured something happened because that's how you shake hands."

I resemble that remark a bit too much to be offended.

PROOF!

I was talking to BrownsFan last week, because I would spontaneously combust if I didn't talk to her every day, and she showed me an article she found on the interwebs she thought I'd be interested in. This one. She also kindly covered up the photograph so I could read the article without having a nervous breakdown.

That's right people: 52,000 cars are being recalled on account of an obviously coordinated attack by the spider nation's Arachni-terrorist division, and I have one thing to say about it.

I FUCKING TOLD  YOU SO.

One type of car? Just the one? And I'm supposed to believe that this is some sort of accident of fate? This is no accident, this is the work of a CREATURE WHO SCHEMES. And these creatures are scheming to GET ME.

"But amberance," I hear you asking, "if the spiders were out to get YOU specifically, wouldn't they be building webs in the exhaust systems of MINI Coopers, such as the one you yourself drive?"

Oh you poor, naive little things. Of course not. That would be too obvious. Don't you see how a direct attack would create too much risk of me just going out and buying a different kind of car? No, no, children, they are way to cunning for that. No, they are building them in Mazdas for a reason. You know who drives a Mazda? MrSteve. A Mazda I've been in a number of times, such as when we used to go for long drives on gorgeous summer afternoons, enjoying the weather, relaxing, my guard completely down...yeah. Do you see it now? The creepy bastards are trying to get to me through my friends, and their efforts have escalated now to a pinpointed attack on Mazdas because I hang around with one. What will these foul creatures think of next? Hiding in the rims of beer kegs so they can get to me through the bartender? Gathering their forces inside bags of cat food so as to ambush me when I go to feed my kitty (she's evil too. I need to be on guard for this plan, she may cut a deal with them.)? Massing inside the floatation devices of planes used for international flights so they can jump out and devour me on my way to England (it worked for the snakes)?

One thing is for sure: they are coming for me. The proof is in the Mazdas.

Amberance: Nerdtastic

I just got off the phone with MrSteve. He was checking on the plans for my birthday party, seeing as how it's almost my birthday (there is another post coming which will be more of the HOLY FUCK IT'S FINALLY MY BIRTHDAY variety, don't worry). MrSteve has crossed over to the dark side into Grownupdom, what with his house and his family and his job having nonsense, and every time he calls I needle him about it because it amuses the crap out of me. While reminding him how hilarious it is that he does grown up stuff like commuting and lawn care, the conversation took a turn for the geek.

Me: Speaking of being an adult, 33 is the coming-of-age age for a hobbit, so according the the hobbits I'm going to be a grown up now.

MrSteve (with horror and disdain): Oh my god. I mean, [the actress] and I joke around about which one of us is the bigger nerd, but you are just...wow.

Me: Well I think it's because I have a variety of nerdery. I'm not just a sci-fi nerd, or just a iPad nerd. I have a lot of different nerd interests.

MrSteve: You're a broad ranging nerd.

Me: Yes. It's important to be a multi-faceted nerd. In increases your chances of meeting someone you don't actually want to date.

MrSteve Calls 'Em Like He Sees 'Em

Discussing my diabolical seduction plot involving a ridiculously tiny vinyl dress

MrSteve (shaking his head): Subtle as a train wreck. And twice as...rubbery.

MrSteve Totally Gets Me

Comments from MrSteve about yours truly:

"Just seen on TFLN (and it made me think of you) - "I love how my brain works. It's like being on drugs without the costly upkeep."

"Do you realize that the two most popular responses around you are the eye roll and the face palm?"

Amberance: Fun and Social (No, I'm Serious)

It has taken me well over a week to sit down and write this post detailing the events of two Thursday nights ago. This is due as much to the fact that it took me nearly this long to recover from it as it is to my well documented laziness.

In the past several months, I have inexplicably developed a social life. My good friend MrTrivia is in large part responsible for this, having gotten me addicted to playing trivia at Witts and introducing me to some really cool people. Two weeks ago, our standing plans for Wednesday night trivia got canceled due to everyone but MrTrivia and me bailing. We decided that two people was not enough for trivia and decided to skip it for the week, leaving open the possibility of meeting up at Tai's the next day.

Thursday rolled around and it looked like it was going to be a typical Thursday with no MrTrivia due to this text message I received mid-afternoon: "I remember now why I got married. When my wife is here she makes me go to bed, but when she is out of town I stay up all night playing video games. Don't think I'll make it tonight." I had also gotten a text from MrSteve asking if I'd be around. MrSteve has gone and got himself a girlfriend and so understandably does not always show up for the Thursday ritual. I assumed he'd be showing for one and then heading off to visit his lady as per his recent custom. I was wrong on both accounts.

Shortly after I showed up for dinner, MrTrivia walked in. He had apparently texted everyone else we know as well, because they started showing up a few at a time. Notable amongst this group was Steve G. Steve G is one of Cap's fraternity brothers and is somewhat difficult to describe. He the kind of person where he shows up and you're excited to see him because you know the evening is going to be hilarious and then you regret it later when you've been thrown out of several bars due to his jackassery.

In the meantime, MrSteve had also showed and brought along his girlfriend, the actress. The significance of this cannot be overstated: MrSteve has done his very best to keep us from meeting for as long as possible because of some nebulous fear he has that Something Might Happen - at his expense. So his bringing her to Tai's on Thursday was a momentous occasion, which I marked by squealing and throwing my arms around her the second they walked through the door. Much as MrSteve had feared, the actress and I got on famously and spent most of the night talking while MrSteve made a David Byrne "My God, what have I done?" face.

By now there was so much activity that I had begun taking notes, despite knowing they were unlikely to make sense when I sobered up. Here are some:

• "Shark guy: We just didn't know they would travel those kind of distances for sex. Me: What? Have you HAD sex?" It was shark week that week, and I was ODing on shark programming. I'd sucked the bartender in as well, and so we had it on in the bar. The show we were watching was about the mating habits of Great Whites, and the shark guy's comment led to me demanding that MrSteve look up the distance of how far I've been known to travel for a conquest on his iPhone. (I have traveled 1/7 of the total circumference of the earth. Eat that, sharks.)
• "Paulblo!" I coined this term for our friend Pablo, who has recently discovered a discrepancy in his first name on several government documents. Some of them have him listed as Pablo, and others as Paul. He's been having a bit of a nightmare getting it sorted out. For the rest of us it's been really entertaining as we've all started treating him as if he were two separate people. Pablo declined to go out with us, so MrTrivia sent him a text: "Dear Paul, Pablo is being a douche. Meet us at Tai's."
• "Steve G's phone: I have feelings for you! Fas. (e-mail [MrTrivia] and he'll explain)" I have no idea what this means. Neither does MrTrivia, I checked.
• "[the actress]: It's an equation. A 39 cent kite times two engineers = you need to buy a more expensive kite. Me: Yeah, they need a kite like in The Kite Runner, but without the rape." MrSteve was telling us a story about how he and his brother struggled to get a cheap kite to fly. I was, naturally, looking for an opportunity to say something wholly inappropriate.
• "Penis pancake!" MrTrivia cleared this one up the next day when I found a photo of a cock-shaped pancake in my e-mail.

Eventually, MrSteve and the actress went home, a bunch of girls Steve G. invited showed up, and MrTrivia and I stepped out so he could have a cigarette. We ended up having a very long conversation, during which Steve G. and the girls came outside. "Fuck it, let's go to Carol's," Steve said. By now I had run out of money, it was 1:30 a.m. and I just wanted to go home, but Mr "money is no object" Trivia was not having it so we said goodbye to the bartender and cabbed it over to Carol's. I had never been to Carol's before. It is a divey country bar with a 4 o'clock license, the worst beer selection in history and frightening looking barmaids and bouncers. They were having karaoke night and I had to spend 10 minutes explaining to MrTrivia that people who really sing do not do karaoke and I was not playing. Steve "G Money" was though and we suddenly remembered just how dangerous it is to let him have a microphone. He announced that he'd gotten divorced that morning (he hadn't), sang a horrible country song (badly) and then finished by telling everyone that what he said about the divorce wasn't true - his wife had fallen off a cliff and died (his wife was at home safe and sound and probably furious with him because she doesn't like him going to Tai's). Following this MrTrivia and I went outside where at some point I decided I really needed to be smoking. I immediately regretted that decision because there was no chocolate milk handy and I can't smoke without chocolate milk (it's my smokin' milk). While we were out there, Steve G. apparently decided he'd terrorized these people enough because he came outside and shouted "FUCK THIS! Let's go back to Tai's." We did.
It was now 3:00 a.m. I shocked, SHOCKED the entire staff with my entrance and the fact that I was still awake, let alone still out and still drinking. I don't remember much of what happened after that, except for a Steelers/Wolverines fan that wanted to take me to dinner (NO! A thousand times no!). At some point I wrote a note to myself which simply reads "titty fucking". I have no idea. The next thing I knew, the lights were up and everyone was being asked to leave. I stuck around, figuring at this point I might as well just catch a ride home with the bartender. Meanwhile out on the sidewalk, MrTrivia was trying to hail a cab so he and Steve G. could go out for breakfast, and Steve G. was putting his nipples on the window and waving at us. MrTrivia later told me this behavior continued at the diner where Steve G. offered the server a handjob for a free slinger. For my part I went home and left a bunch of insane comments on Facebook, then fell asleep for an hour in my clothes. The bartender had to wake me up for work, where I spent the day fueling my consciousness with Diet Coke and trying to will time to speed up so I could go home.
MrTrivia, thanks for a great night out and for not letting me give in to the temptation of being a responsible adult. It turns out I don't hate fun after all.

The Way To MrSteve's Heart Is Through His Lungs

MrSteve: I LOVE smoking! If smoking was a chick I'd be married by now!

Amberance: Always Trying to Help Others

Me: I still think we should have Mystery Girl on the show.

MrSteve: Why are you trying to make my life more difficult?

Me: I'm not! I'm trying to make your life more hilarious.

I Don't Like His Scotch Either

MrSteve: Here, try my Absolut Citron martini with a lemon twist.
me: No way.
MrSteve: Just try it, it's lemony!
me: (sip, pause) This tastes like a Wet Nap.

Spider Politics

Mrs. Sizemore: Hey, do you want to move to Canada and get gay married?

Me: That depends. Do I have to learn French?

Mrs. Sizemore: No, you don't have to learn French. I speak enough for both of us.

Me: Good, because I was planning on learning Portuguese.

Mrs. Sizemore: Ooo, if you learn Portuguese we could move to Brazil!

Me: Nuh uh. They have tarantulas in Brazil, I'm not moving there. It has to be Canada.

MrSteve: Oh what, you think there's no spiders in Canada?

Me: Not big ones.

Mrs. Sizemore: Yeah, the spiders in Canada are small and killed by socialism.

The Force Can Have a Strong Influence on the Weak Minded

MrSteve: Darth Vader Toaster. As the Ronco commercials say - ?The Ideal Christmas Gift!?

The engineer: *waves hand* "This is not the toaster you are looking for."

Mrs. Engineer: Now THAT was geeky.

Me: Geekily AWESOME

Everybody Drill/Cut/Diesink Now

MrSteve: Do you know what a C and C milling machine is?
Me: I know what C & C Music Factory is.

Mixed Reactions

I've had a number of differing responses to my post about how I fear marriage.



BrownsFan, proponent of marriage and 20 year veteran of same is continually dismayed by my opinion. Upon reading the post, she looked at me sadly and argued, "Yeah, but it's a nice Death Star."



MrSteve was a bit more supportive and also a bit more true to Star Wars canon (because seriously, a nice Death Star?), sending along this lovely motivational poster:



The agent and I discussed the post and the reaction of BrownsFan over coffee. He said something funny which I did not write down and promptly forgot. When I called him this morning to find out what he had said, he didn't even remember having the conversation, thus proving that in fact we are pretty much already married as we clearly do not bother to listen to each other anymore.

No Habla Español

A text message conversation with MrSteve in Spanish. Difficulty: neither of us speak Spanish.

MrSteve: Out tonight?
Me: Si.
MrSteve: Que?
Me: To eres una legumbre. (You are a vegetable)
MrSteve: Que?
Me: I'm running out of Spanish words! Ocho cinco. (I'm running out of Spanish words! Chad Johnson.)
MrSteve: Chili con queso de amore chalupa de puta. (bunch of food. Whore.)
Me: No me gusta! (I don't like it!)
MrSteve: Heuvos y chicharron con patata con salsa. (more food)
MrSteve: Tequila! Bap-bap-ba-de-da-bop-bop-Tequila! (that annoying Pee-Wee song)

(At this point my friend Manny who is from Mexico stepped in to help me. Google stepped in to help Steve.)

Me: Tengo una araña sancona que esta peluda y sedienta. Y te que tienes? (I have a big hairy spider that is hungry and thirsty. What do you have?)
MrSteve: Tengo derecho a su araña. (Right. I'll give you a spider.)
Me: Me gustavia verte pronto pero no hay tiempo. Quizas despues por ahora solo te esenvo recados. (I would like to see you soon, but I don't have time. Perhaps later, but for now I can only send you text messages.)
MrSteve: Que el caballo y su madre viajaban en el. (Your mother and the horse she rode in on.)
Me: Mis manos sucias estan tocando el pollo. Y tus manos estan socias? Y el pollo donde esta? (My hands are dirty from touching the chicken. Where are your hands? Where is your chicken?*)
MrSteve: Pollo? Lo que la cogida? (Chicken? What the fuck?)
Me: La policia busca una persona con apariencia como la tuqa argumentando que anda un violador de gullinas suel to por la ciudad. (The police are looking for someone who looks like you. They say someone is walking around the city raping hens.)
MrSteve: Traductor Google dice que usted no sabe espanol. (Google Translator says that you do not know Spanish.)


*Manny explained this. "English is very straighforward. Mexican Spanish is not. Here, chicken means vagina. So this says that you are playing with your vagina and implying that he is playing with his vagina."

The Grand Announcement - For Real This Time Version

With as much fanfare as I can muster having gotten only a few hours sleep, I am proud to (finally) present Episode 1 of Dumbassity. You can download it here or subscribe to it here.

A brief warning: Unless your boss is Larry Flint or you are a porn foley, there is absolutely no way this podcast is even remotely safe for work. It is also not safe for children, the sexually repressed or the vast majority of my family. I'd like to reiterate that last part: if you are related to me but are not part of my generation or named Rick, my advice is to skip this podcast and put on a nice quiet Michael W. Smith record instead.

For everyone else, please realize that a) this is our first podcast b) we lost a solid 20 minutes of BRILLIANT material because we weren't actually recording and c) MrSteve and I are on a learning curve with the new editing software we've each acquired. We will get funnier with time. I swear. We welcome comments and suggestions (provided they are not "This is the WORST fucking podcast I have ever heard in my life! You should all jump off a bridge and end your miserable existence."). You can make them here.

Amberance Gives Accurate Descriptions

Gene: I'm not familiar with The Devil's Rain.
Me: Oh, dude, it is terrible, but the cast is ridiculous. It's got Ernest Borgnine, Tom Skerritt...
MrSteve: Joan Prather, Ida Lupino...
Me: William Shatner, and also a very young...um...who is the scientologist that isn't Tom Cruise?
MrSteve: John Travolta?
Me: That's the one.

The Grand Announcement - Premature Version

Did you guys see that in the comments? Pronto yelled at me! Yelling frightens me and makes me nervous, so here is the reason for the lack of posting:

I, along with Melle and MrSteve, have started a podcast. You can't listen to it because we're not done editing, and you can't visit the website because it has nothing on it. You CAN however know that it is called Dumbassity and that it is the reason why there has been no posting here. Also I am quite with the busy at work here for a few more weeks. My ability to multi-task is small and my creativity is finite.

I'll post a much better and informative announcement here when there is an actual website/file, and I will post better blog posts the moment I get a life.

I Am Only Slightly More Hip Than MrSteve

Some strangers in Tai's are playing horrible horrible pop/dance music on the jukebox. MrSteve and I eye each other, dismayed.

MrSteve: I feel like I should break a move, but I'm not sure how it would go over.

Me: (confused) Do you mean...."bust a move?"

MrSteve: Oh yeah! That's it!

Only One Month Until SBJ Day!

"Why are you here?" seemed to be the $64,000 question at Tai's on Thursday night. Because it was Valentine's Day, see, and I have a boyfriend this year. I attempted to justify myself to MrSteve. "You know how much energy it takes for you to spend four hours with me?" I asked. "[The agent] just spent four entire days with me in Florida. He could use the break."

This seemed to appease him (he agreed that four hours in my company is draining indeed) but the truth is that this has nothing to do with it. The real reason is that I hate Valentine's Day and I fail to see why having a boyfriend should affect my overall opinion. OK, hate may be a strong word. It's just that I can't bring myself to believe that there should be one magic day on which your love must be declared in embarrassingly florid terms lest you sign yourself up for Certain Doom. If I fail to show my love an overwhelming majority of the time, I doubt some dead plants and a cardboard box filled with heart-shaped confections will be the magic relationship fixing elixir. (Except for chocolate covered strawberries from Malley's in Cleveland. Those can fix anything.) I find it more satisfying to celebrate the St. Valentine's Day Massacre because a) that's how Valentine's Day tends to make the lonely single people feel and b) that really was a pretty badass piece of trickery.

Having said that, I did dye the rice pink when the agent came over for dinner on Friday night.

Two Girls, One Chat

me: i wish i was a muppet
H-town: doesn't that really just mean you want a hand in your ass?
me: *hangs head in shame* yes
H-town: Ah, now I know what that tingling is - it's the knowledge that this is going to be blogged
me: i said the same thing to MrSteve last week and he said "My dear, you ARE a muppet"
H-town: Really, I just like making "hand in the ass" references
me: who doesn't?
H-town: proctologists?
H-town: zing!
me: hand in the ass is a masterpiece of comedy
H-town: *rimshot*
H-town: hahaha, rimshot
H-town: I AM ON A ROLL
me: i am on a bagel
H-town: zing!
H-town: oh yeah, folks, we'll be here all week
me: try the veal