Wednesday, January 23, 2008
An unsteady weekend |10:10 PM| My birthday party was this past weekend.
The premise was to make small cakes, and I did not expect the level of cake output demonstrated. I was damned happy. Kristina made an excellent cake (with a secret recipe she'd extracted using truth serum or something) and T-shirts, all in the spirit of "Portal".
Cass's cake had that bad ass frosting she's been using. Stacy made a cake whose rum content was approaching that of super-saturation, or perhaps, Hunter S. Thompson. Mike and Sheel prepared fantastic brownies with (sadly melted) frosting that said "Call 1-800-Brendie for an OK time"
When I got home that evening, before the party, I found that the apartment was nearly a Lovecraftian horror. Slime mold, an unidentifiable and terrible odor, debris of broken lives, etc. Jimmy, Jeff, and I had not been there for any real length of time in weeks, and like a neglected child the apartment was acting out for attention.
I spent the next two hours making the place habitable. I claimed I was cleaning, when I removed dozens of bottles, scraped slime off of dishes, and mopped the floors I technically was. However, with the hurling of most of the apartment into Jimmy's room, and the covering of other objects with bedsheets, I was really set decorating. Thanks, independent film experience! I should have removed all trademarked items while I was at it.
I also, for a few hours, lost my awesome cat. God, the ripping emotional impact was... it's a cat. It's a pet, but I am emotionally invested in her. Seeing her run, being unable to catch up and watching her vanish into the undergrowth is still fucking with me a bit.
It wasn't panic, it was just incredible frustration and helplessness. Stupid cat. We managed to find her after two and a half hours, and given the near freezing temperatures that was probably pushing it, chance of survival-wise.
While she was escaping (A salesman at the door, she jumped by my legs, salesman did a poor job of grabbing at her) She scratched the shit out of me, and bit my hand a couple of times.
One of the bites managed to poke a flexor tendon, and it caused a hell of a reaction. I bring this up because for quite a time (I mean, after needing a bunch of pain killers and immersion in ice water) I couldn't close my hand, my middle finger always in partial salute to the world. Figures.
In any case I still managed to tape the Naked Empire show that evening, even if I was so late I could only get the NauseaCam footage with the hand held, no static shot. It was a good show, but shorter than usual.
An unsteady weekend |10:10 PM| My birthday party was this past weekend.
The premise was to make small cakes, and I did not expect the level of cake output demonstrated. I was damned happy. Kristina made an excellent cake (with a secret recipe she'd extracted using truth serum or something) and T-shirts, all in the spirit of "Portal".
Cass's cake had that bad ass frosting she's been using. Stacy made a cake whose rum content was approaching that of super-saturation, or perhaps, Hunter S. Thompson. Mike and Sheel prepared fantastic brownies with (sadly melted) frosting that said "Call 1-800-Brendie for an OK time"
When I got home that evening, before the party, I found that the apartment was nearly a Lovecraftian horror. Slime mold, an unidentifiable and terrible odor, debris of broken lives, etc. Jimmy, Jeff, and I had not been there for any real length of time in weeks, and like a neglected child the apartment was acting out for attention.
I spent the next two hours making the place habitable. I claimed I was cleaning, when I removed dozens of bottles, scraped slime off of dishes, and mopped the floors I technically was. However, with the hurling of most of the apartment into Jimmy's room, and the covering of other objects with bedsheets, I was really set decorating. Thanks, independent film experience! I should have removed all trademarked items while I was at it.
I also, for a few hours, lost my awesome cat. God, the ripping emotional impact was... it's a cat. It's a pet, but I am emotionally invested in her. Seeing her run, being unable to catch up and watching her vanish into the undergrowth is still fucking with me a bit.
It wasn't panic, it was just incredible frustration and helplessness. Stupid cat. We managed to find her after two and a half hours, and given the near freezing temperatures that was probably pushing it, chance of survival-wise.
While she was escaping (A salesman at the door, she jumped by my legs, salesman did a poor job of grabbing at her) She scratched the shit out of me, and bit my hand a couple of times.
One of the bites managed to poke a flexor tendon, and it caused a hell of a reaction. I bring this up because for quite a time (I mean, after needing a bunch of pain killers and immersion in ice water) I couldn't close my hand, my middle finger always in partial salute to the world. Figures.
In any case I still managed to tape the Naked Empire show that evening, even if I was so late I could only get the NauseaCam footage with the hand held, no static shot. It was a good show, but shorter than usual.
Labels: Cat, Parties, Pictures
2 Comments:
I just finished playing portal, and I liked the ending song so much that I can play it on the piano and guitar. Do you think they will make a sequel?
By 
, at
6:01 PM
It's been incredibly successful, and critically acclaimed, so I would be surprised if there isn't some kind of follow up. New map packs at the least.
There's references to Aperture Science in Half Life 2, for episode 3, so there will at least be some plot expansion.
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