Ethel the Blog

Tue, 30 Sep 2008 20:48:51 GMT

So. Final weekend.

I left straight from work on Friday and got to site around 12:45, which was unfortunately too late to join in on Vilfiication Ping Pong. I debated going in street clothes, but on the off-chance that Something Awesome would happen, I suited up.

Something Awesome turned out to be the birth of our new jug band, The O'Culligans!

See BJ over on the left wailing on his "guitar?" It has a working whammy bar and everything! And then there's Jessamine pounding the hell out of some benches (she took the skin off both her hands), Chad with his bottlecap shaker, me throwing horns and wailing on the jug Aerosmith style, and Brian on drums We crashed Drum Jam and broke pretty much all the drummers, who were apparently pretty damn bored before that.

Friday

So I got to site on Friday, headed to Alice's to give her some of the fruits of my garden labor, and was fed some pretty fabulous pumpkin stew. Met up with Hawkins and we played a rousing game of Scrabble outside of Caufield Clay. The word that broke me was "vixenyrdzone," which is, according to Hawkins and Kevin, "wherever Ethel is."
Then I met up with BJ, Chad, and Brian, who told me all about the jug band. There was nothing to do but join. As I mentioned, we crashed Drum Jam and it was Awesome.

Went to the BLT for a burger and met up with Chad. We belted Erasure songs at the top of our lungs together. Boss Wench had installed a stripper pole outside their shop for an afterparty, so I watched festies strip to folk music for a bit. And later something incredibly ironic happened; my glasses -- my real glasses -- broke. God is a Nerd, and he hates me.

Saturday

Saturday, I was on the street until noon. First thing, BJ and I went to put a walkie talkie in a pouch to hang around Thistle the Irish Cottage Cow's neck so we could make her "talk back" to patrons. After we got the handler to adorn her with it, we backed away by about twenty feet and tested it. She was very nonchalant for about fifteen seconds, until she suddenly started backing up and flipping out.

On the minus side, we weren't able to do our cow-talking bit. But on the plus side, we now know the speed of thought in cows. Apparently, you can do anything you want to them as long as it's under fifteen seconds.

I had a fun time playing various games with patrons. Snaked more kisses from patrons. Did some shopping. The O'Culligans tried to serenade Fitz in his cage, but a) BJ's guitar broke, b) Fitz wasn't in his cage, and c) Carr was filming something, so we skipped it.

I did the parade with Taffy. He had his neck handkerchief pulled over his eyes, and me with my hat pulled over mine. We walked the entire damn length of the parade as "the blind leading the blind." We should really, really think through our street bits better.
It eventually turned into a slave train when Erin, the Villain of the Year, grabbed his topknot and started announcing that she had peasants for sale.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. Stocks were fun, street was fun, skipped vil. We had a record day at stocks.

Saturday night, though, things got interesting. That's the annual cast party, and after a flurry of activity immediately following cannon, we went upstairs again and hit the awards ceremony.

I was nominated for "late bloomer," which for non-festies is the "most improved veteran" award. I was super shocked about this when I heard I was up for it, and was trying to be nonchalant, but to be honest, on the inside I was really damn excited to be nominated. I had been having a really effing fun season, and to be nominated was just the icing. And while I was personally rooting for Michael to win, I won't lie -- it honestly felt good to be noticed a little.

I didn't expect to win, and I was right -- I didn't win. That was ok with me. It was, however, emotionally hard to lose to the same person who beat me out for Rookie of the Year in 2005, which apparently makes me the only person in the history of the festival who has lost both awards to the same person. I was a bit bitter about this for the rest of the weekend. It's ok now (meh, that's life, he won fair and square over the rest of the nominees, and I'll continue to grow as a performer regardless) but yeah, it wasn't a good feeling, and a worse one to realize that I was not being the person I wanted to be regarding the situation. I'm not proud to admit that, but it's part of who I am and what I experienced, and I want to document the bad along with the good so I can try and be a better person for next time.

And to be honest? I had the best. season. ever. I've spent literally every season as an entertainer either in excruciating pain, or recovering from back surgery. This was the first year I was able to play like I really wanted to play from day one. I improved on the stocks and in vil, and during my non-gridded time, I hit those streets like an effing hurricane. I had a blast, I grew as a performer, and no award will ever be able to take that away. Or more importantly, to give it.

Saturday is also Cast Party night, which is filled with table dancing, free beer, and general shenanigans. I managed to hit all three. Rather than whoring it up, I went the footie pajama/bunny slippers route, which was pretty fun. Claire kept ~~trying to unzip~~ succeeding in unzipping me, and I kept responding with "God Dammit, Claire!" This was fairly amusing to both of us.

Headed to the BLT, where I learned that Claire had apparently started a trend. Amy from Caufield started to unzip me too, and because I had a few beers in me, I decided that them wuz fightin' words, and started going to unzip her fly. We began wrasslin' drunkenly while going for each other's zippers. And again, because I was drunk and because I was wrasslin' with another chick in oversized bunny slippers, the inevitable happened and I fell over backwards. And because we were all tangled up, Amy fell on top of me and her extremely hard skull cracked down on my nose with all of her weight behind it.

Sunday

Sunday morning saw a wicked hangover, all-body soreness, a painful back, and cramps from beyond the grave. I thought that it was not possible for me to be more miserable...until I blew my nose. I almost blacked out from the pain, and stumbled out of my tent to ask Ish, Jules, and Daniel how you could tell if your nose was broken. The general consensus is that it's not, but I did something wicked awful to the cartilage. It's three days later and it's still painful as hell.

Meghan Brunner made my world better with various sundry needs from her car.

Sunday morning I was complimented by Seamus as a misdirection tactic. And we had one potentially violent situation with a patron which was fortunately diffused before it came to blows.

Sunday afternoon saw vil. I think I'm the only person on cast who felt that it was one of our weaker final day shows. Not because we weren't as dirty (we weren't, and for me that was a positive) but because the whole show felt like it never really got a great deal of momentum behind it and because the timing felt funny to me. I am virtually alone in this feeling.

The funniest moments came from Die Hippie Whore, who had a great new team insult. And from Fitz, who got to hump an actual priest on stage. And the priest was George's mom.

Jeff and I were up against the team of Chocolate Love. At one point, Sam and Jason started doing their "impression of us" which ends in them fake-making out. Well, we needed to one-up them. So Jeff turns to me and asks, "Hey, you wanna make out on stage?"
I shit you not, the only thought in my head when he said that was, "Yes, and." So before either of us could really think about it, we did. We went at it like dogs, because we both apparently share the opinion that if you're going to make out on stage for comedy, you better not pull your punches, or the crowd will know. You fucking shove your tongue down their throat. The crowd laughed. We laughed. And he only bumped my nose once, for which I was grateful.

After that, the stocks as a group surprised the hell out of Toni with flowers and a beautiful compliment from Seamus. She took a hard job and did it well, and the stocks came out of it bigger, stronger, closer, and tighter as a group. I felt like I lost my front gate family but found a new one in the stocks.

Toni and I went shopping together, and she surprised the hell out of me with the gift of this GORGEOUS necklace. I wore it for the rest of the day and all day yesterday.
The fest of the day fizzled out a little. More Scrabble. Favorite word of that board was "bojid" as in "We bojid this game all up."

Closing gate came too quickly, and didn't really feel real -- more like a dress rehearsal for the "real" closing gate which should have happened next weekend or something. The final fire blow happened, Michael tolled the bell, roses were thrown, and we sang and hugged.

Sunday night is traditionally Beer Olympics, but I wussed out and headed back to the tent around 10pm.

Monday

I woke up bright and early Monday, took a shower, and began packing up the tent. Talked with BJ a bit about tattoos, and made nefarious plans for toys for next year's season. Him and I have the same type of twisted mind when it comes to making up bits and props and we had a lot of fun this year making some of them become reality. I'm sensing at least one road trip to his property for woodshop is in order before next year.

Walking through the campsite on Monday is eerie. Every time you turn around, another tent is gone.

Went up top and helped with brunch prep. Stuffed myself silly on food and mimosas, with Elizabeth heralding every bite with very loud "Hoorays." Talked with Jeff about his awesome new stage show idea, helped clean Bad Manor with Jen and Brian, packed up the rest of the tent with Jen (which included Olympic scorecards from Daniel, Ish, and Jules), and somehow managed to fold it all back into the original bag. It was like a reverse clown car. Hung out in Brian's tent for a bit, and then went up top to retrieve my leather jacket from Toni.

Dane tried to convince me me to stay a little while longer, have a beer, and watch football. He succeeded.

Saw a bit of fondle football, and I will never be able to look at a grass hula skirt the same way again. Aliera and I noted that we had made a series of conscious decisions that led us to this exact situation, and reevaluated our lives. Mental note: write Renaissance Festival Choose-Your-Own-Adventure novel.

Right before I left site for the year, Becca told a funny story about something that happened earlier this season that I wish to God I had seen. Apparently Colin from SS was walking past the sheep pen in the petting zoo one night, and as a joke, leaned over and told the sheep, "How YOU doin?" in a sexy voice.

As one, the sheep all bleated in alarm and ran to the other side of the pen as fast as they could.

And thus ends the year. I miss it already, and have schemes for next season rolling around in my skull.

And if you read through every single one of these posts this season, you deserve some sort of fucking huzzah.

Tue, 30 Sep 2008 20:08:00 GMT

Last year, during the month of October I emulated Hungry for a Month, where you can only spend $30 total for food in 30 days. I walked away with a heightened awareness of attitudes towards food as well as my own dietary habits.

I'm going to do it again this year, timing it so my first day of food freedom is November 6th, the day I'm planning on going to Siren for Omegacon. Counting backwards, this means that my first day will be next Tuesday, October 7th.

Does anyone want to do this with me? If so, let me know -- we can probably get a little more variety in our food if we coordinate shopping trips, split large things like bags of rice and dried beans, and maybe even swap some meals.

skywayman has done this project as well and while I cannot speak for him, I will say for myself that while it was not exactly fun at all times, it was absolutely, definitely, 100% worthwhile.

Photo cred to deadbishop

Tue, 30 Sep 2008 00:53:50 GMT

I wasn't really ready, but the season is over.

After the final closing gate, the Town Crier tolled the bell for an hour. It made for a haunting, beautiful close to the year.

Sun, 28 Sep 2008 06:14:52 GMT

On the plus side, I can now add "table dancing in bunny slippers" to my list of lifelong accomplishments.

Fri, 26 Sep 2008 13:09:48 GMT

"You're so stupid you'd get cancer just for all the attention."

Cancer has kept St. Paul man from the Renaissance Festival, so the
festival came to him

As the daylight hours began to fade, a strange group congregated on St. Paul's West Side. Minstrels with guitars and harps scampered quietly beside maidens with bells on. Cars slowed in wonderment. The sound of a tuning accordion could be faintly heard outside the window of Frank Tunison's home.

He didn't have a clue Thursday evening that in minutes, a fantasy would come true.

It began when Tunison, who has been largely homebound since being diagnosed with bone marrow cancer in March 2007, was asked by a home-care worker what he missed most.

With little thought, he offered an eccentric reply: "The Minnesota Renaissance Festival." For more than 30 years, before the cancer set in and started turning his bones brittle, the 65-year-old had been one of the festival's biggest fans.

"He went religiously, every year, sometimes a couple times," said Tunison's son, David Tunison, an Army veteran who returned from Iraq in March 2007 with a Bronze Star and two Purple Hearts. Doctors told him then his dad had 60 days, at most.

After a year and a half — which included aggressive chemotherapy, drugs, holistic treatment and two missed festivals — Frank's daughter, Laura Kuhnley, called the organizing group's main Shakopee number.

"It's something that really tugged at my heartstrings," said Anita Kelling, entertainment manager for the festival. "As it was told to me, what he wants to do more than anything is go to the Renaissance Festival. It's very upsetting to him. It's just what he wants to do right now.

"I've had a number of performers who had family members that passed away from cancer. Those people were the first to volunteer," she added.

Response to an e-mail on the festival's listserv was quick — and overwhelming.

"You want me to cook a meal for him?" asked Anjila Olsen, a historical cook who has been serving sausage hash at the festival for 25 years.

"I didn't even think twice about it," said Olsen, who was diagnosed with ovarian cancer last year, though it is now in remission. "It's very personal."

Tunison's daughter told him she was organizing an Avon sales meeting. He stayed in bed, none too excited.

Just outside, on Tunison's front lawn, musicians tuned harps and guitars as quietly as they could. Fire- and belly dancers spoke softly as they
stretched.

A chunk of the 500 block of Manomin Avenue, of which Tunison's house commands one corner at George Street, was blocked to traffic.

"It's a heckuva Avon meeting," muttered one minstrel in silken tights, tossing a flourishing cape over one shoulder.

"A lot of us have to work tomorrow morning," noted Reid Hegland, the festival's Herald for the Court, glancing at the crowd of 50 or so entertainers.

"I hope the jugglers come," one fretted.

As Tunison was led outside to ostensibly get some fresh air, he grew speechless. "Who did this?" he finally whispered to his wife, Ruthann. "Your daughter," she replied.

After 15 minutes, Tunison sat surrounded by maidens in scant attire, being treated to comedy and song.

"It's a testosterone dream," his son said, as a lovely fairy scampered beside him.

Every so often, Tunison cracked a smile. "You don't see him smile very often," noted longtime neighbor Richard Sorenson.

As neighbors emerged from their houses, many were taken aback.

"I just never saw anything like this," said Dorothy Newcomb, 95, who has lived on the block since she was a girl. "I just think this is remarkable.... I don't get out as much as I used to."

Tunison, who worked most of his life as a printer operator at Rexam Beverage Can Co., has been a fantasy and sci-fi fan since grade school, when he first read Robert Heinlein's "Stranger in a Strange Land." As a teen, he went to a party dressed as a knight in shining armor, tinfoil crumpled around his knees. In his house sits a display case of metal and porcelain dragons. His wife collects fairies.

As for the Renaissance Festival, "running six kids around, I could barely afford the admission," Tunison said as he sat down to dinner. "I just wanted them to see there's so much more that can be done, just using your hands.

"The fact that you can take 40 to 50 people in costume — but they try to make others have a good time. ... It brings joy," he said.

"Some guy's warming up. He's going to do his best to insult you," his son informed him.

"No worries. I've got a sword in the house," Tunison replied. In fact, he has several, from a historical Scottish Claymore to a decorative saber.

Eventually, Tunison tired. As he lay down after dinner, he was greeted by a final image of lords and ladies waving through his window. He cracked a smile and went to sleep.

Tad Vezner can be reached at 651-228-5461.

I am very, very glad we went.

Thu, 25 Sep 2008 20:09:07 GMT

Proposed: The fact that none of the vampires in Anne Rice's novels have functioning penises has no bearing on the fact that they're all totally gay for each other.

Discuss.

Thu, 25 Sep 2008 00:55:14 GMT

As I mentioned earlier, I was the guest of debridement at the Ivey Awards on Monday night. She was organizing the after party at the IDS Center's Crystal Court, so we donned our best cocktail dresses and enjoyed a posh evening filled with wonderful food, martinis, and company. It was like I was dropped into a different world for an evening.

Obligatory arms'-length BFF self-portrait:

30 is wonderful. So is debridement.

Wed, 24 Sep 2008 20:59:49 GMT

I need a favor. As many reading this know, there is a gentleman who is a huge fan of renfest but has been too goddamn busy this year from dying orf bone cancer to make it out. So the festival is organizing performers to go to him before he dies. I would love to go but would have to leave straight from work, and there's Wilma to be let out.

Can anyone let out Wilma sometime tomorrow late afternoonish/eveningish? I'd like very much to go to the dying cancer guy's thing and they've specifically requested vilifiers. It would mean a lot to me to help be part of something for him.

I'd hide a key. Literally all you'd have to do is ignore my insanely messy house and let her out the front door to do her thing and then put her back in the crate afterwards.

Please?

EDIT: My brother is letting Wilma out tomorrow evening, which is awesome as he only lives five minutes away and already knows what a slob I can be.

Tue, 23 Sep 2008 13:27:32 GMT

After the Iveys last night, I realized I was dressed all in black and was half a block from the Saloon, so I stopped by to say hi. Sure, it was a black evening gown and not a black vinyl minidress, but still.

I left early because I wanted to get up early to run today.

This makes twice in one week that I've gone to a goth/industrial night. And twice that I just haven't gotten into it. I want toike it, but I just don't anymore.

I'm thinking that I'm pretty much done with the goth/industrial club scene. Not the people in it, mind you, because by and large they're awesome. But for the last four years, I've only gone out clubbing once or twice a year, and I'm kidding myself at this point if I think I'll "someday" become a regular again.

And now I have no idea what to do with my club clothes. On one hand, I could sell them and reclaim some closet space plus get a buttload of money -- I have some nice stuff and good club clothes.have a bangin' resale value. And it's hard to justify keeping most of it around for that once or twice a year.

But on the other hand, where else could I ever find a black and silver pvc corset printed with circuitry?

Tue, 23 Sep 2008 00:38:02 GMT

Twenty four hours ago, I was a dirty sweaty festie dancing at a drum jam.

Tonight, thanks to Niccole, I am dressed to the nines amidst a bunch of sharp-dressed theater geeks at the Ivey Awards, enjoying free martinis.

Niccole is awesome.

Mon, 22 Sep 2008 19:08:58 GMT

Lunch.

Weekend #6 saw perfect weather...one of those beautiful late Minnesota
summers with crisp blue skies, no rain, and wonderful temperatures.

I got to site later than I had planned on Friday due to the afternoon's errands not going smoothly at all. It was about 7:30 before I got down there. By the time I got there, it seemed like half the campground knew about the porta-potty/walkie-talkie plan from the various inquiries.

There wasn't a lot going on and apparently we weren't going to rehearse for talent show after all, but it was still fun. I wandered by a campfire, where I had a very high-school moment with Morgan.

Eric gave me wood.

I wandered in search of BJ but had little luck finding him. Went to the tea tent in search of Brian, Matt, and Gretta, but rolled a 1 there, too. I did find David, however, so good ol' Hawkins and I tromped over to Caufield Clay to
hang out with Fitz Kevin, who had apparently forgotten that we had previously been introduced, and didn't recognize me from periodically wandering into his shop. I had a grand time
sitting there with them getting pleasantly buzzed on beer and whatever tasty drink Kevin had mixed up for me.

I learned that Kevin hates the stocks. To be fair, his shop is right outside them, and he's had to listen to it for 20 years. Ok, fine. He also said the he in particular hates one of our hawking songs that we sing about a million times a day, to the tune of the Flintstones theme. Again,
this is honestly fair enough, but I wasn't about to let him get away with hatin' on our song.

Fitz again called me fat a lot.

Fitz and I strategized a little bit on how to have an in as well as an out for kicking Matt in the balls onstage at vil this weekend. These things are important, because while just kicking someone in the balls is sort of funny, it's not comedy. He helped me formulate a good exit....now all I needed to
do was play against Matt.

David and I wandered down to Fitz's campfire, where we played with the walkie-talkies quite a bit. Jen had one in her lap, and we took turns
passing the other around the campfire creating guided tour commentary of her crotch.

Saturday morning saw me and BJ placing a walkie talkie in a baggie and duct taping it inside a porta-potty tank. It was not nearly as gross as it
sounds, and I probably could have done it even without the rubber gloves I was armed with. Oh, the things I'll do for my "art."

After morning greetings at the gate, BJ and I had a hilarious time playing with the walkie talkies. We tried a few different things, but the most
entertaining bit ended up being me crouched behind the chess booth playing mp3s of a cat yowling, and then sending someone down by the toilets to ask people if anyone had seen their lost cat. There was banging of toilet doors and hilarity ensued.

The funny thing is, people who saw us doing it kept accrediting it to BJ To be fair, it is totally a BJ sort of thing to come up with, but it was still pretty hilarious. Did street. Did Scrabble. Did parade.

Vil on Saturday was great. It had one of those perfect builds to it. We were in the second round (which is always my favorite) versus Fitz and
Antonia. Towards the end of the round, Fitz called me fat.

Now, calling someone fat directly is a surefire way to get the crowd to turn against you. Call their mother fat. Call their daddy fat. But call them fat and you are generally met with boos and hisses. That's why we don't do it.

It also happened to be the "entrance" to me kicking Matt in the balls that Fitz and I had discussed just the previous night up in Caufield Clay. So I got "visibly angry" and marched over the net and kicked him in the balls. When he dropped, I beat his crotch over and over again with my mug. And stood up, turned to the crowd, and proclaimed, "I am not. fat.." The play between me and him went over perfectly, and was a great cap to the end of the round.

Then it was stocks. Toni, Becky and I made a point of singing the song that Kevin hates as often, as loudly, and as directed as possible towards Caufield Clay. Most of the time he would either come out and blow kisses towards us, or shake his fist.

Then that little twat sent Seamus the Insulter around to insult me for it. I laffed and began plotting revenge.

After five hours of stocks, I was pretty beat. Plus, it was Talent Show night, and since I'm not a fan I usually find somewhere else to be. I ended
up going out for dinner for steaks and mudslides with the Brust clan, Angelo, and Kieran, which ended up being perfect and just what I needed. We got back kind of late and I crashed into the tent.

I've been crashing a lot earlier this year, and sleeping a lot more soundly. I'm thinking it's due to me just spending a lot more energy during the day this year. I just want to cram in as much as possible.

Sunday morning, Salsa proposed to Raederle during cast call. It was pretty awesome.

Sunday morning saw stocks with Toni. We again made a point of singing the song towards Kevin, and I began recruiting people to go into his shop and
serenade him with it. My plan was to get at least a dozen people to hit him with it all day long. I think I managed close to that. I know I got at least Frenchie, the Unicorn, Adam, the Town Crier, Erin K, and a few others. Linda, curse her, chicked out, saying she liked Kevin too much. Wuss.

The capper was in the afternoon. I was wandering around with Brian, Jen, Matt, and Gretta, when we began discussing how awesome it would be to have either the trumpeters or a bagpiper play the song at full volume in Kevin's shop.

As luck would have it, about five minutes later we ran into Dana and Tad on the Bare stage. And happy day! Tad not only knew the song on the bagpipes, but had free time right then and welcomed the opportunity to dick with someone. So we tromped on down there, tipped the harpist playing right outside his door to take a 45-second break, and Tad planted himself right in
the doorway and played the song full-volume on his bagpipes.

I laughed and laughed until tears came out of my eyes. Kevin came out of the shop laughing, dropped to his knees, kissed my hand, and simply said, "Ok, you win."

Vil was once again a pretty much perfect build. Afterwards Jenni and Perrin tipped me an extra dollar to kick Fitz in the balls again.

A group of us went to the Fandazzi stage, where they proceeded to gypsy-whore up Ethel for the drum jam, which was super awesome and generous
of them. I had belly dancing lessons in the street, which was pretty fun. This is where playing the Village Nerd comes in handy, because while I was
honestly trying as hard as I could, I looked like a complete dumbass....but I can totally cover that by saying it's "in character." Did drum jam as a "nerd gypsy" with Adam, Gretta, Jaime, and their mini-mes, and had a blast. All the dancers were just dripping sweat by the end of it.

I returned the gypsy gear to Cottage, and then retrieved my car to begin loading it up. About halfway through, I realized with a sick feeling in my stomach that I had completely. spaced. the. stocks. meeting. that happens
every night at 7:30. I felt terrible about it. I made about eight of my friends wait for fifteen minutes when they were tired and stinky and just
wanted to get undressed...and for no better reason than I was a fucking space cadet. I'm really sorry, guys...it wasn't on purpose but it was still a total dick move on my part.

Wilma, Aliera and I packed it up and went home. And just so everyone knows, I'm planning that that was Wilma's last festival day. She is simply getting too old and arthritic for it to be fair to her, even when she stays in the tent. I know she is much loved out there (more so than I!), but it is time for her to retire to a dogsitter, my parents, or a kennel for these seven
weekends, even though that'll be much pricier and less convenient.

And there's only one more weekend left. I am incredibly sad about this, but at the same time it'll be nice to have my weekends back. I miss hanging out in the basement with Jesse and Emily playing games, drinking martinis, and generally geeking out.

Tonight I head off to a fancy-pants theater party with debridement. I hope she's serious about the dressing-up thing, because otherwise I'm going to feel horribly out of place.

Fri, 19 Sep 2008 11:41:57 GMT

This is my second-favorite fest picture EVAR.

Look closer! Matt's HUEG BUFFALO COCK is Jewish.

Thu, 18 Sep 2008 12:13:15 GMT

2 things:

1. My chaise is still available. No one has concretely claimed it, and I want it gone fairly soon as I'll have to start bringing my plants in shortly, and need the space.

So if you want it, e-piss on it and tell me when you can pick it up.

Chaise lounge. Notes: I did a hack job of reupholstering it. You can either keep it that way or redo it, doesn't matter to me. Also, it was Wilma's favorite chair. I got 90% of the dog hair off of it but there's still some left because dog hair is kind of shitty to get out of furniture completely, no matter how hard you try. Yours for $10, or a 6-pack of Newcastle, or a 4-pack of Surly Bender, your choice. My preference would be the Bender. I would even be willing to give it away for free, but if I can snag some beer out of it, hey, it's worth a shot. Oh, what the hell....it's free, and gimme some beer if you want to and can afford it.

2. I hate chihuahuas. I also hate fast food. But I love this picture.

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 01:21:58 GMT

I have decreed that tonight is for drinking Guinness and picking out a new pair of glasses.

I have made a promise to myself to order and love the hell out of the results, no matter what.

Tue, 16 Sep 2008 20:06:58 GMT

Lunch.

Here is a question for you. If you could go back in time and see any band/show you missed live in the height of their heydey, who would it be, and why?

I'm pretty sure I'd see the B-52s at the Northrop during their Cosmic Thing tour. That was the one were people were dancing so hard the band had to ask them to stop out of fear the balcony would collapse. Afterwards the theater had to spent millions to get the thing rehung.

Mon, 15 Sep 2008 19:24:18 GMT

Fifth weekend recap.

"I believe that any two people can be together if they just try hard enough."
"Honey, how old are you?"
"20."
"You have so much to learn."
*defensively* "Well, that's what I believe."
*shrug* "Well, some people believe in Jesus."

Fifth weekend saw me getting to site sometime Friday evening. I plastered a Michael J. Fox bumper sticker on the tent and waited for Jen to notice it. Ate some bangin' lasagna.

Mindful of the previous Friday, I curtailed my beer drinking, refused numerous offers of whiskey, and only played one round of flip cup, despite coercion from all sides. Matt and I debated the finer points of offensive joke-telling, and decided that that made us Awesome. Tapped the keg that Brian scored from Granite City. Hit Mark's campire where he called me fat. Wilma, on the other hand, was apparently hot. "Yeah, bitch, snort my name!" I went to bed relatively early at 11:30.

At cast call, we learned we can't make any more pedophila or incest jokes. Fair enough, as long as it doesn't go any farther. I'm slightly worried about the precedent it sets though. What is next? Bestiality? The elderly? The handicapped?

Saturday morning was stocks with Aliera, then a quick run to vil. Erin K had stolen the Town Crier's bell last weekend, and "traded" it to the Vilifiers on stage for a full set of VT trading cards. Awesome.

It was a rough pre-show for me and I almost didn't play, but decided to go for it and channeled everything into what ended up being a rocking round. Yeah, we got too dirty too quickly, but Jeff and I were funny, which forgives a lot. And hey, no pedophilia.

More stocks, in the middle of the rain. I hate it when it rains during stocks shifts, but it was still fun.

After that, I went in search of Brian, Gretta, and Matt for a round of Scrabble. It was a little damp, but not too bad, so I decided to go for it. I had partial success in finding Brian at Cottage, and we wandered over to the Pavillion, where we found Linda and Roma. The two of them talked me into doing the grape stomp at 5pm. To be honest, it didn't take much convincing -- it sounded like a blast, and really, how many times does one get the oppportunity to strip and have a fruit-crushing contest? Hells yeah, I'll do it!

And then I learned that the other person who had previously agreed....was Gretta! Oh, happy day! We crushed fruit with our feet. We crushed fruit with our butts. We threw crushed grapes at each other and cheated shamelessly. And then patrons drank the fruit juice that emerged from our butt-crushing spree. She won, because she cheated with more style. That's entirely fair.

Afterwards we were so sticky and gross that that was pretty much the end of the day for us. We went downstairs and made a beeline for the showers. I stripped as soon as possible and then, realizing I didn't have any, grabbed a towel and went in search of shampoo/soap. I found Aliera and she hooked me up with a travel-sized bottle of shampoo that was, as I discovered in the shower, actually mouthwash.

Here's an aside: one of the things I love about festival is how accepting everyone is of complete randomness. Once in a while, for example, a naked chick draped nothing but a towel wanders through the campsite, covered entirely with crushed grapes, calling out another chick's name. And no one bats an eye.

Saturday evening, I was that naked fruit-covered chick.

Saturday night was pleasantly low-key. I sat in cottage eating this fabulous apple and ham dish made with Johnny Fall Down and potatos, chatting with folks I don't normally get a chance to chat with by the fire, admiring the Theresa/Chrysto baby, and enjoying a free pitcher of beer. I made new friends and it ruled. I called it an early evening around 10pm.

Sunday morning, I woke up super excited. I was full of energy and ready to go, and made it to cast call with oodles of time to spare. Talked with Anita on my way up the hill about how to better recognize the lesser-known members of the cast, especially the rookies. It's been a topic that's been on my mind, and by the end of cast call I ended up volunteering to help bring back the GEMs in some fashion. I think it's important not only for those being recognized, but for the cast as whole -- hearing about the awesome stuff everyone does always helps inspire me, at least. I really want to see that support and recognition back, and I'm willing to roll up my sleeves to see it exist again in some fashion.

I greeted people as they came in through the gate by trying to snake kisses on the cheek/yearbook autographs. I was pretty successful with the cheek-kisses and managed to get several hundred througouht the day. My left cheek was covered in lipstick and I had a blast.

The morning brought me to Fitz' cage, where someone had sewn a life-sized dummy of him, complete with nipples. He dry-humped it while proceeding to call me fat. We had a mini-feud that ended in me stalking off and returning with a huge bowl of ice cream, which I ate in a fit of self-loathing.

On to vil. Someone had come up with a brilliant idea on how to give the town crier his bell back; we'd give it back at the end of the day, provided he didn't say a single word between now and then. He agreed. Tim delighted in saying, "Ok, everyone who doesn't want to lick the ground, say 'Not it!'" About two hundred people chimed in, and then looked expectantly at the Town Crier, who slumped his shoulders and full-throttle licked the stage. No pansy half-ass lick for him! The crowed wanted it, and he totally delivered.

I ran into Erin K later in the afternoon, and she told me that she had also stolen the Town Crier's smaller bell. She told him that she'd give it back anytime...all he had to do was say "Please." Evil. But yeah, the Town Crier played the entire afternoon of abuse with grace and style and deserves mad props for it.

The rest of vil was rocky. Still had fun. I was paired with Fitz, who called me fat onstage yet again and told me I needed to lose 30 pounds for him to be willing to fuck me. I would have been disappointed if he had let that slide. I had one insult that I wasn't sure if the crowd would turn on me, but it was well-received and I am totally going to hell for it. (You slept with a retard because you wanted your first time to be 'special.')

I took five minutes and watched Carr do his Ratcatcher bit with a garbage can. He accidentally pulled out a plastic bag filled with dog shit and I just about wet myself laughing.

Started my stocks shift with Aliera and Angelo and Neil in the middle of the cold, miserable rain. The shift was anything but! At the beginning of my shift, I was delivered a flower, which literally left me speechless with delight. The rest of the shift could have been miserable, but instead it was super fun. We played with this awesome little girl from a 50-foot distance, ending in her saying, "I'm not a pretty princess; I'm a little girl!" And then, for lack of anything else to do, we sang a rousing rendition of Codemonkey, and then launched into Disney showtunes, which received wild applause from all five people left onsite to hear them.

Aliera pointed out in the middle of us singing Disney songs in the middle of the cold, miserable rain, that each of us had made a series of conscious decisions that led us to this exact situation. I love her.

Aside: By the end of the season, the stocksmen aren't going to have real conversations anymore. Everything will be meta. dot com shakespeare moo a lot WHAT.

We went downstairs early, and continued the Disney songs throughout our stocks meeting. I drove Aliera home and then took the world's most awesome bubble bath.

And thus ends the weekend. Only two left for a whole year!

Mon, 15 Sep 2008 12:17:06 GMT

Rainy, cold weekend. Full update later.

Kudos to the Town Crier yesterday, who was a great sport, despite:

Having almost everything he owned "stolen." He just never got smarter about that.
Having a "Loser" sign placed around his neck for the entire day
Doing a mud slip-n-slide....twice
Being unexpectedly tossed into the role of Coin....again, in the mud
Having mud shaped into a nipple onstage and placed on his head
Being forced to take a great big ol' lick of the mud on the ground

...And last, but not least: Being forced to not say a word for six and a half straight hours while all this abuse was going on.

I hear at one point he wrote in the mud, "WHERE'S CARR?" to Angelina. Lolz.

Photo by vorrant

Fri, 12 Sep 2008 16:32:36 GMT

For mamajenzie, for whom I have much love.

Fri, 12 Sep 2008 12:59:32 GMT

Going back to site this afternoon and I'm already excited for the weekend.

I have no new bits planned, no new props, no new clothes. Instead, I worked on a stupid tshirt which no one but me and my brother will find hilarious. Not because it's an inside joke or anything, but because it is just that retarded.

In other mundane news, I clipped Wilma's toenails last night, by myself, with minimal restraint. Not only did she not scream, struggle, and bite her way into a hypoxic state, she behaved perfectly.

My peeps from the clinic should be well-aware from past nail-trimmings that this is EPIC.

Fri, 12 Sep 2008 01:39:46 GMT

blakeh recently posted a list of the 100 Greatest, Gayest Albums of All Time, as compiled by Out magazine. I was curious to see where my collection ranked. Following Blake's lead, I bolded what I own.

100 The Beatles - Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
99 Joni Mitchell - For The Roses
98 Ferron - Testimony
97 Janis Ian - Between The Lines
96 Nick Drake - Bryter Layter
95 Culture Club - Kissing To Be Clever
94 Hair Original Broadway Cast - Hair
93 Sade - Lovers Rock
92 Morrissey - Viva Hate
91 Grace Jones - Nightclubbing
90 Kate Bush - The Kick Inside
89 Fifth Column - To Sir With Hate
88 Hüsker Dü - Zen Arcade
87 Madonna - Confessions On A Dance Floor
86 Madonna - Madonna
85 Nina Simone - Anthology
84 Cyndi Lauper - True Colors
83 Bette Midler - The Divine Miss M
82 Cher - Believe
81 Scissor Sisters - Ta-Dah
80 Rufus Wainwright - Want One
79 T. Rex - Electric Warrior
78 Various - The Rocky Horror Picture Show Soundtrack
77 New Order - Substance
76 Ani DiFranco - Imperfectly
75 Carole King - Tapestry
74 Michael Jackson - Off the Wall
73 Various - Fame Soundtrack
72 Donna Summer - Once Upon a Time
71 Elton John - Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy
70 Rent Original Broadway Cast - Rent
69 Frances Faye - Caught In The Act
68 Nirvana - Nevermind
67 Hüsker Dü - Candy Apple Grey
66 Soft Cell - Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret
65 Le Tigre - Le Tigre
64 Patti Smith - Easter
63 Björk - Debut
62 Jeff Buckley - Grace
61 Sleater-Kinney - Dig Me Out
60 R.E.M. - Automatic For The People
59 Bronski Beat - The Age of Consent
58 Liz Phair - Exile in Guyville
57 Prince - Dirty Mind
56 Team Dresch - Personal Best
55 David Bowie - Diamond Dogs
54 Tori Amos - Little Earthquakes
53 Culture Club - Colour By Numbers
52 Kate Bush - Hounds of Love
51 Frankie Goes To Hollywood - Welcome to the Pleasuredome
50 Rufus Wainwright - Poses
49 Patti Smith - Horses
48 Cris Williamson - The Changer and the Changed
47 The Magnetic Fields - 69 Love Songs
46 Madonna - Ray of Light
45 Bikini Kill - Pussy Whipped
44 Pet Shop Boys - Very
43 Prince - Purple Rain
42 ABBA - Gold
41 Melissa Etheridge - Yes I Am
40 Pet Shop Boys - Behavior
39 Laura Nyro And Labelle - Gonna Take A Miracle
38 Dusty Springfield - Dusty In Memphis
37 Blondie - Parallel Lines
36 Madonna - Erotica
35 Yaz - Upstairs At Eric's
34 Donna Summer - Bad Girls
33 The Smiths - Hatful Of Hollow
32 The Smiths - Meat Is Murder
31 Sarah McLachlan - Fumbling Towards Ecstacy
30 Diana Ross - Diana
29 Pet Shop Boys - Actually
28 Queen - The Game
27 Eurythmics - Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)
26 Scissor Sisters - Scissor Sisters
25 k.d. lang - Ingénue
24 Sylvester - Living Proof
23 Deee-Lite - World Clique
22 The Gossip - Standing In The Way Of Control
21 David Bowie - Hunky Dory
20 Queen - A Day at the Races
19 The B-52s - The B-52's
18 George Michael - Listen Without Prejudice, Vol. I
17 Lou Reed - Transformer
16 Queen - A Night at the Opera
15 George Michael - Faith
14 Erasure - The Innocents
13 Ani DiFranco - Dilate
12 The Velvet Underground & Nico - The Velvet Underground & Nico
11 Various - Hedwig And The Angry Inch Soundtrack
10 Antony And The Johnsons - I Am A Bird Now
09 Cyndi Lauper - She's So Unusual
08 Madonna - The Immaculate Collection
07 Elton John - Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
06 The Smiths - The Queen is Dead
05 Judy Garland - Judy at Carnegie Hall
04 Indigo Girls - Indigo Girls
03 Tracy Chapman - Tracy Chapman
02 The Smiths - The Smiths
01 David Bowie - The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars

Not having any Madonna, Queen, or Smiths really hurts my ranking. I cannot bring myself to feel bad about the Smiths, though I am mortally embarassed to admit to not owning any Frankie Goes to Hollywood.

Apparently my collection is only 25% gay, which makes me a hair less gay than Blake.

edit: Anecdote time! Immediately after posting this, I suddenly felt very self-conscious and concerned that I was a "bit too much like a gay man." To counteract this, I went poured myself a pint of the manliest beer in the house, Guinness Extra Stout.

It just now occured to me that considering that I am a woman, the logic behind my "solution" is pretty amusingly twisted.

Thu, 11 Sep 2008 05:13:11 GMT

Here is a picture (courtesy of Lonn) of me and Gretta playing with the giant buffalo penises on Sunday morning.

I was looking over some pictures from fest this evening, and was kind of shocked by how much more compact I look. The above picture is not a good example, but I haven't seen pictures of myself since CONvergence, and yeah, there's a difference. I've barely lost any weight, and according to my body fat % monitor I haven't lost any fat either, which makes me want to chuck the damn thing out the window because it is so very obviously wrong.

But according to my measuring tape, I've lost almost six inches off my combined measurements since I started working out two months ago. This is me, tonight.

This is what 160 pounds looks like. Yeah, I looked thinner at 130, but I didn't look as healthy. I honestly like this way much more.

Wanna see something interesting? Beneath the cut is another picture of me at 160 pounds. But this one is from March of this year. I took the pic back when I started first thinking about exercising and eating healthier, hoping that someday I'd be able to do a then-and-now comparison. I forgot about it completely until tonight, when I decided to pull it out to see how it looked.

I may never be traditionally attractive, petite, or waif-thin, but I can be an amazon. A geeky, geeky amazon. And I'm beginning to think that's pretty awesome.

Now tell me I'm pretty.

Wed, 10 Sep 2008 12:16:12 GMT

2008 Fourth Weekend

Friday night after work, I picked up Steve in St. Paul, got the dog, stole some ice cream, and headed to site. After that, the evening went a little downhill. First, there were the two beers. Then, there was the 25-oz Guinness at Turtle's. Then, there was some cherry vodka. And, um, some whiskey. And another beer. And then more whiskey, about an hour's worth of solid flip cup in the kitchen, and, um, more whiskey. And more flip cup.

I totally honked by one of the picnic tables. And, then, um, twice more outside my tent. I haven't gotten that sick in years and only once before on site. I was pretty hungover the next morning, and actually don't remember a few moments/conversations from Friday night that Jen and Brian are swearing that I had. I rarely drink to excess, and feel pretty embarassed about the whole thing. Sorry, guys.

Saturday morning was a decent (if low-key) morning at stocks, and a shitty round at vil. Back to stocks, where Angelo did an awesome job at take, keeping me and Becky busy pretty much the entire time. Did the 4:30 beer tasting...it was Guinness weekend, hooray! Got to play flip cup and our team hosed the Muses. Got a neat spoon thing to make black-and-tans, engraved with the word "GUINNESS." Score.

It was during this beer tasting that I got my first prop from a patron for stocks. Now, vil is a high-profile show. It is not unusual for a patron to stop someone on vil to tell them "nice job today" or "great show." It's just the way it is. But this dude...he said he saw me on the stocks, and that I was really funny. Vil may get more recognition and don't get me wrong...I love that show and put a lot of effort into writing new material and improving my performance, but I spend literally ten times as much time on stage on the stocks every day, and I put a lot of thought and effort into it as well. It was such a warm glowy feeling to get props from someone for stocks...it seriously meant more to me than any random 10 vil props combined.

Saturday was also Sign Language Saturday. I got to see awesome things like the signs for "douchelicker," "flaming nipple," "constipation," and "beastiality."

After that, it was to the front gate for another round of Hungry Hungry Peasants. This time, it was Matt, Gretta, Brian, and...damn, who was our fourth? I can't remember. We were smart ahead of time and borrowed the foam weapons from me and BJ's larp game instead of using the fake flails. Matt, unfortunately, was not smart enough to just pretend to eat the candy like everyone else was doing. In any case, Gretta was the crowd favorite and won, despite the fact that she kept turning around and spitting candy at the crowd.

Side note: I've been spending a lot of time with Matt, Gretta, and Brian this year, both on the street and off. Why? Because they are made of win and fun and rainbows and ponies. And because we've discovered that the four of us on the street make a Voltron of awesomeness.

Unfortunately, the skies began to open up right before drum jam, so that was canceled. I grabbed some pizza and headed to the campground, beating the rush for the showers. I was so tired that I ended up taking a "short" nap, but slept through both Jen coming back to the tent as well as my alarm, which meant I was late to the stocks meeting. Oops.

Saturday night was much more low-key. Some BLT (where we made joke after joke about dendrophilia), some cottage, and an early bedtime. Please note that it was the first night I didn't spend carousing around with Matt, Gretta, and Brian, and also mysteriously the first night that I spent completely sober. Coincidence? I think not.

I slept like the dead, which is a good thing, because Sunday morning, the real tomfoolery began. Matt and Gretta had made friends with the people at Fetch, who said we could use their products for street as long as we told patrons about the shop. Deal? You bet your ass it's a deal! Since their dog food is made with human-grade ingredients and since the owner had brought in 5-foot long buffalo penises just for us to play with, the rest of the morning pretty much wrote itself.

We fetched Niblet and tromped down to front gate looking for dogs and for patron marks in the crowd. We got some people to eat the dog food, especially after we'd take a bite ourselves. Most wouldn't. That's ok. Most also wouldn't kiss Niblet, but again, a few brave souls would. In all fairness, kissing a piece of shit is really more of an end-of-day thing than an early-Sunday-morning thing.

But the real fun was with the buffalo penises. We had three...two absolutely huge ones, complete with foreskin and remnants of buffalo pubes, and one that was about half the length with no tip. We figured that buffalo must have been jewish.

So Gretta and I started out by having people limbo under them as they crossed the wooden bridge.

Then we'd mark out older women with no kids in tow, and approach them.

"Touch the stick for good luck!"
"Ok, now rub it up and down."
"Oh yeah. Now tease the tip just a little with your finger."

It was especially amusing thinking that some of those ladies were probably talked into skipping church for this.

Oh yeah...this weekend, after years and years of dressing unattractively, for some reason people started commenting on my breasts. Over and over again, like for reals. Participants and patrons alike. At first, I had no idea what the difference was, but then we realized....it's my new hat. Jen was dressed in my old peach one (as well as a plaid chemise, since her stuff was wet), and she just looked completely flat-chested standing next to me. She needs a new hat, too.

I saw two adorably cute things on Sunday. One was an ancient golden retriever being pulled around in a waggon. At first, I felt sorry for the dog, but learned later through the listserv that this particular dog was 16 and had been out to fest literally every year of his life since he was a puppy and absolutely loved it there. His owners couldn't bear the thought of leaving him at home for his last year, so they voluntarily rigged up a wagon and drug their huge dog all around site, just so he could experience the festival and have some doggy fun one last time before his big sleep. That brought a little bit of a tear to my eye.

The other was this little girl in a bear costume. My ovaries do not flip out that often, but I was seriously doubled over by how goddamn adorable she was. Seriously, if Sean had seen her, Kim would have needed to start alterations on her wedding dress.

On to Scrabble! We pulled it down from Bad Manor and in front of the green. After our first game, we got a little loose with the spelling rules, and then it became a sort of meta-game to see who could come up with the most amusing justifications for made-up words. Whenever we set it up, we ended up drawing a crowd. I can't wait to play again, and it was worth every minute of frustration and time the damn thing caused me last week.

Vil was sooooo much fun. It was Toni's first day, and I was super happy to be partnered with her. It started out a little rough because the opposing team was serving and started the freakin' match with a fat momma volley (seriously, wtf, especially on someone's first day!) and I didn't think Toni had any fat insults lined up yet. (It turns out she had one, which I had completely forgotten about....my bad.) So I felt I had to carry the round until the volley ended and we could get on with a more normal match setup.

And once that happened, Toni just killed the crowd. P-to-the-W-to-the-N-to-the-ED. Her presence on that stage has been a long time coming, and I think she'll totally bring more funny to the show.

Some more stocks, a quick run to the 2:30 beer tasting, and then more Scrabble. Totally fun. Back to stocks, where Becky and I finally hit our groove together. As previously mentioned, Guinness guy came by asking after me, which was a little unexpected.

I managed to catch the last remnant of drum jam, which was still going by the time I got there, and danced my little nerd heart out with Gretta, Adam, and the Gypsy Muses. And that was pretty much my day.

So yeah, except for the puking, fourth weekend was even better than third. I don't understand how this is mathematically possible.

Tue, 09 Sep 2008 12:27:01 GMT

From Meghan: Excuses I Might Use to Go to the Minnesota Renaissance Festival

Vilification Tennis made the list, but the one I like most is "To be made fun of by someone who deserves to be made fun of WAY more then I do." It's not clever but it's true.

Sunday morning, Matt was telling me that someone asked him how he chose what to do on site. His method is to figure out what would make the least amount of sense when described to a coworker on Monday morning.

If that is true, then on Sunday morning we made people limbo under giant buffalo penises, ate a bunch of dogfood, and then got more people to kiss a piece of shit that's been sculpted by the Amish into the shape of a frog.

I wish life was that good all the time. Sometimes I wish I could split my life in two and just send half of me on circuit so I could do crazy shit all year round.

Tue, 09 Sep 2008 01:34:00 GMT

Instead of stalking windelina today, she stalked me!

In other news, I'm trying to figure out what kind of oversized game to make next. I've done Pickup Sticks, Hungry Hungry Peasants, and Scrabble, which have each been kinda neat in their own separate ways.

Tiddlywinks has been suggested and discarded, as I don't want to brain some kid.
Jenga has been similarly discarded because I've seen an oversized set at the guard's camp.
Jacks has been suggested, and I'd be all for it except I can't find a period-looking bouncy ball.

I was all set to do Boggle and had even figured out 90% of it over the weekend, but I am discarding the idea due to not being able to find an oversized three-minute timer online to buy (because there's no way in hell I'm making one), let alone one in my price range that can survive the perils of Fest.

So, gentle readers, tell me. What game should I attempt to make next? It should be:

1) somewhat feasible to make
2) visually entertaining
3) classic enough that people watching will "get" it on first glance
4) enough of a "drive-by" game that patrons can hop in and out of/contribute to
5) Safe

This is why both Pickup Sticks and Scrabble work so well, especially Scrabble.

So far, the only sutff I've been able to even remotely come up with is Operation, and maybe Marbles, but Marbles seems like cheating somehow, because all I'd do is get a lot of large round wooden things from somewhere and paint them. And I suspect it wouldn't work. And Operation would probably require more fine woodworking skills than I have, not to mention tools.

So suggest! Onetwothreego! I have to get cracking if I'm to have something for the rest of the run, and my creativity is running dry. I need idea-help.

edit: so far, the forerunners are still Boggle and Connect Four. The simpler, the better. Connect Four is brilliant, if I can figure out a way to do it before the weekend.

Mon, 08 Sep 2008 12:51:50 GMT

What was your most favorite thing about this weekend?