Ash the Mighty

Effing EVERYONE that I work with is breaking up. Seriously. If I was in a relationship at all I would be absolutely paranoid that I would be next. As it is, I feel a little bad, like maybe on some level I caused it, or that at the very least I was that little starting pebble in the grand avalanche which is the disaster of my department’s love life. At one point in time not too long ago (OK, like four or five months ago) there was maybe one or two single people in my department. Now I believe there is maybe one or two people still in relationships.

And we’re not just talking little breakups here. We’re talking live in fiances splitting. Messy divorces (and/or people TALKING divorce). Things of that nature. It’s getting plain ol’ eerie.

Lately I also feel like I shouldn’t so much be getting paid for my expertise with computers as with my mad relationship skillz. Not that I mind trying to help people out, of course. It’s just yet another thing that I have to privately have a chuckle about, that the guy who can’t get a girl to stick around to save his soul is still really pretty decent at helping with other peoples’ love life. Story of my freakin’ life.

So THAT’S fun.

~A.

So-random-confession-in-hopes-that-I-will-actually-start-blogging-again: The one and only reason that I ever hope to get a raise in this world is so that I can buy more toys. Seriously, I know that that’s the end result for pretty much everyone, but I actually set out to get promotions and whatnot because I feel some vague need to buy something expensive which I will love with all my heart right up until I put it down one day and it turns into another Dust Gathering Item.

I need a hobby.

Ooooooh, I bet I could buy stuff for that!

~Ash.

P.S. So the iSlate (or iPad or iTablet) is (probably) being announced tomorrow. And yes, I am totally considering applying for a promotion. Don’t you judge me, Frozen Iguana.

I happened to be at work and noticed this article on the BBC, which talks about how the Black Watch (which has a long, and not-always-glorious-at-all tradition, but is now kindof the symbolic Scottish regiment) has returned from their tour of duty in Afghanistan.

They are being welcomed back to their native country with parades through several different cities and in the article itself on an INTERNATIONAL NEWS SOURCE the regiment was able to list their dead and tell the world of their accomplishments. For the record, there were five dead out of over 400 soldiers (400 are marching in the parade, I can only imagine that there were more serving) and their accomplishments were quite in order with what even a cynic such as I would imagine of a people who had fought off superior forces of invaders for their entire history.

It would be so incredibly wonderful if we as a country would even be able to do such a thing. To welcome home OUR soldiers with parades across the country. To be able to succinctly list our dead as the heroes that they are and celebrate theirs and their brethren’s amazing feats of daring and strength and (hopefully) nobility in combat as they come home to not have to leave again.

Ah, if only!

Just thought I’d share. Happy Holidays everyone.

~Ash.

So I went to see the Phantom of the Opera play at Grady Gammage Auditorium in Tempe tonight with a friend of mine, Mary who I know through both Faire and Southwest Shakespeare Company (it should be noted also that she is a Theatre Major). While I was on my way, I saw a tweet from a friend of mine from work saying that he would be there too. As such things go, I didn’t think much of it, because without fail, even in an auditorium which seats several thousand, I knew I’d run into him. It’s just the way of things.

I met up with Mary and we had a great dinner at Rula Bula, and then headed over. We got there just in time to get into our seats (which were AMAZING. Row 10, dead center. THANKS MOM!!!) and during intermission, sure enough, my friend Dante was just four rows behind us and a bit stage right. We really only waved because we’re classy like that and don’t shout (totally being ironic here. Were this the MAC I would totally have shouted, but I had a suit on for Chrissakes).

Here’s the point to all this rambling. As intermission was coming to a close, I get a text from Dante asking if we wanted to go backstage after the show. Wha- wha- WHA–?!? It turns out his parents are stage hands for the production and his dad is a master carpenter. So in short the answer is “HELLS YEAH!!” I think Mary would have choked me out then and there if I had answered anything different.

Mary and me in front of the Chandelier which figures in the famous . . . DISASTER.

So after the INCREDIBLY well acted and sung production (seriously, I would say one of the best Phantoms and Raouls I’ve ever seen), we met up with Dante and his grandmother (his date. Awwww. No, really. I think that’s a really good thing for someone to do) and we trooped on backstage, where I learned all sorts of just fascinating tidbits which I wanted to record.

• Phantom is the longest running Broadway play in history. It has never gone dark. But that means it has ALSO never been updated. So it is running on all the same technology as when it first started. The state-of-the-art technology that it was designed around 20 plus years ago must now be custom repaired at great expense because it simply doesn’t exist anywhere else in the world anymore.
• The boat is remote controlled. I always thought it was on a track. The remote control is the size of a large lunchbox.
• All stage hands, even locals, are in full costume. When the elephant turns around and there are people drinking inside? Local stagehands who helped push it out in the first place.
• Carlotta’s costume for the “Hannibal” scene weighs in excess of 70 lbs.
• The touring show has twenty-one (that’s a two and a one) semis to bring sets/costumes, etc from town to town.
• There are two sets of several set pieces so that one set can go in advance to the next town and construction can begin because it is so complicated.
• I love this show even more now having seen just how much WORK goes into it. It is IN. TENSE.

Just had to share and remember some of this stuff. Thanks for letting me ramble a bit. Oh, and Mary and Dante (and Dante’s folks — sorry I’ve forgotten your names — ), you guys absolutely made my week! Thanks a million!!

~Ash.

I’m not saying that I actively despise flying, but that’s only because I’m sitting here hoping to be able to do so in the very near future and I don’t really want to piss off whichever god happens to preside over heavier-than-air travel (and yes, there MUST be a god of it, because I still maintain that it just shouldn’t be possible). But I will say that I would rather be pretty much anywhere else at this moment, up to and including seeing a doctor . . . and we ALL know how much I enjoy those.

Why do I hate it so much? Well besides the afore-mentioned fact that it just shouldn’t work, there’s the fact that it frequently DOESN’T. I’m not talking about planes falling out of the sky or anything (though that happens too, and I’m not thrilled about it). I’m talking more about the alarming regularity in which travelers (you know, just like me) find themselves stranded in random airports all across the country/globe, with nothing to do but sit in incredibly uncomfortable plastic chairs and just kinda stare at each other.

Now I admit that it’s hard to place blame on any human the issues that we’re having here. Parts of Colorado have had in excess of 30 inches of snow in 2 days, and so it’s hard to keep an international airport open and functioning at capacity in those circumstances. That said, the woman who is sitting next to me had her flight routed TO here from their original layover destination of Las Vegas. Just checked the weather, there are no issues there. I mean, it could be there were security or other unknown issues with that airport, but really? REALLY? When there’s a state-closing blizzard going on that is stranding people and canceling flights? You re-route here?

OMFG. A woman just carried a monkey onto an airplane. No, I’m not kidding.

OK, I’m done. This day just got way too insane. Just. Wow.

~Ash.

So before I went to bed today I needed to spend some time with the Polly-wog, and so we sat together on the couch and I watched the new episode of The Family Guy. I for once didn’t fast forward through a commercial and some random Levi’s advert came on and I remembered that a few years ago they did one which had dialog from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” my favourite Shakespearean play EVAR.

I decided to jump on to the ol’ YouTube and see if I could find it. I could. I’ve included it below for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy, I know I did!

~A.

29 September 2009, 15:47:  EDIT: Apparently I spoke about this very commercial four years ago in my blog at the time.  Don’t believe me?  Check it out.

Blargh.

I have PlagueFlu. I am a sniffly and coughy and just generally disgusting mess. I’ve been this way all weekend, and today I tried to go to work and was sent home by my boss’s boss (who I was supposed to have a 1 on 1 with today) because I sounded like the Spectre of Death out of some sort of bad horror film. Yes, I sound that terrifically awful.

So now 1 on 1 has been rescheduled and I am waiting for sheets to be done drying (I had put them in the washer before leaving for work) so I can go back to my lovely new bed. DID I MENTION NEW BED?!? Tempur-Pedic Classic (low end but still awesomely awesome), which takes a bit of getting used to but I’m already sleeping soooo much better than I have in years!

WHY WON’T THE STUPID SHEETS FINISH DRYING!?!?! I just wanna sleeeeeeeeeep . . . . . . . .

~A.

I’m going to Hell

Everyone knows I’m a good Church-going boy. I would never condone attending such events as the Arizona Fetish Ball. Certainly not dressed up in vaguely (or, you know, entirely) sacreligeous clothing. But if someone were to attend such an event, and that someone were to have a camera, then that someone might post those pictures on a site called sikandwrong.com.

Because he would think that he’s funny.

Oh, he’s kinda funny.

~Ash.

So.

What to say, what to say. Well, very few people get all their news Ash from this source these days, but I still need to put an update up here.

I don’t even know how to say it, but my dearest and deepest friend who hasn’t become part of my family has suffered a tragic loss, and while I might overuse this term I feel, it is appropriate. I have been bleeding for her. My dear sweet Meggan, who was due in a few days, lost her baby last week. The details are morbid and not something that need to be shared, but she is one of the strongest women I know and so is recovering bit by bit. I’m happy to say that her husband Reuben has been incredibly supportive of her during this horrific time and I only wish that I could take away her pain. That I could do anything for her.

I wish this was some sort of elaborate hoax. It’s been an utterly and completely devastating week . . . more than I would have ever thought it could have been. Instead of being able to provide any sort of help to my oldest female friend, I have found myself constructively sitting at home alone a lot. Drinking. Well, not entirely alone. I’ve had a lot of friends drop by and check up on me, especially at first. They’ve been really great. At first work was looking like they were gonna be a great big pile of douche but then they turned themselves around and ended up going waaaay above and beyond what they had to in any way, shape or form, and as such I’ve been given more time to spend with my one true friend, intoxication.

I just wanted to thank a few people specifically. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a complete mother fucking mess and it is happily past noon so after sending this I feel fully justified in going to get a drink (I’ve been sober for two days so you can all go fuck yerselves). But nonetheless there are several people who have been amazing and I wanted to mentioned them. First off, I wanted to thank and of course give my deepest of sympathies to my Meggan. I weep. Then there’s the Powell who understood me enough to know that when I said “I’m fine,” I wasn’t fine so off to the bar we went. New friend Lynette who brought booze over and drunkenly watched bad teen movies with me at ridiculously early hours of the morning. Pete, who said his first Hail Mary in Latin in over a year as a favour for me. I know how hard that must have been for him, and I don’t know if he understands just how much I appreciate it. My folks have also been amazing in helping me realize that it’s OK to in fact mourn. I’m not so good with that sometimes. Oh, and Bowlesie, who wrote me out of the middle of nowhere, concerned about me. Because that kind of personal history bloody rocks. And finally Sarah. Just Sarah.

Sounded like a bloody Oscar’s acceptance speech. But I’m just grateful to these people, and if I don’t write it down here, where else?

~Ash.

Supernatural-OMG-FTW

Short and sweet.

Awesomesauce.

Just checked, and yeah. Mr. Old Testament says angels are about a million times scarier than demons.

Cause demons didn’t lay waste to any cities.

And even if they had, they wouldn’t have gone home all happy and whatnot thinking they had just done the will of God. At least demons know they’re evil.

Just saying.

~A.

P.S. Oh, and Happy Talk Like a Pirate Day. Yar.