Ravings of a Textual Deviant

It’s a really, really, really bad idea to co-host two parties on the same day. I so do not recommend it.

By one of the many quirks of scheduling that makes my life so interesting, I ended up hosting a picnic for the clinical chemistry biz that I work with and a baby shower for a friend on the same day. The picnic was at my house, and the shower was at somebody else’s, which is the only thing that has managed to save what’s left of my sanity. Full credit for pulling off the shower goes to my extremely patient co-host, who ended up doing a lot of work that I intended to do. I owe her big time. Both events went well, I think. Friday night was spent getting things ready for the baby shower, and Saturday morning was all picnic work. Which is not to say that it was exactly a picnic, even though it was. Still, from here on out, I am on a strict, one-party-per-day limit.

It’s much better to write badly than to behave badly.

Everything is a matter of perspective.

From one point of view, starting a new workout program really, really, sucks being massively overweight and out of shape. It’s profoundly depressing to look ahead at how much work there is. It’s also really not fun to finish a workout praying for the coronary I’m working out to avoid. I was very depressed about all the things that I wasn’t able to do. I figured it would be weeks, if not months, before I had a good workout.

Then, I decided that my problem was my definition of a good workout. Henceforth, a “good workout” is any prolonged period of exercise that does not end with me vomiting.

So far, they’ve all been good workouts.

As I mentioned briefly on Sunday, in the midst of all that chaos, that Ed and I saw Pirates of the Caribbean. Before I tell what I thought, let me tell you what else was floating around in my head at the time. By an odd coincidence, I had just finished reading Cory Doctrow’s Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom, which I highly recommend. In the novel, there’s a big struggle for control over two of the attractions at Disneyworld, Pirates of the Caribbean and the Haunted Mansion. One of the previews at Pirates was for another Disney movie–you guessed it–The Haunted Mansion. I supposed that I ought not to be surprised, as rides have been based on movies for years, and it was probably invevitable that it would go the other way. Add to that the fact that I’ve found all things Disney very creepy since I was a kid, and it was a very odd frame of mind indeed.

What really impressed me about Pirates was that, going into it with a very disturbed frame of mind indeed, I was completely absorbed in the movie and had a good time. It’s not high art–it may not even be low art–but it is a good ride, and it seemed as though every single actor was having a really good time. Johnny Depp’s character completely steals the show, which was fine by me, as I thought Jack Sparrow was the most interesting character anyway. It’s well done, cheerfully anachronistic, visually impressive, and (this part is very important to Ed) it has zombies in it.

Last night, Ed and I skipped out on various important TV-watching and computer-game-playing responsibilities to see League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. League is also anachronistic, and not nearly so damn cheerful about it. If you like steampunk, see it. If you like Sean Connery, see it. If you like scenes of citywide destruction, see it. If you like the comic book, see it anyway, but be prepared for it to be quite different and not nearly so good. It’s classic pulp–fast-paced, predicatbly-plotted, tres noir, wildly geographically inaccurate, and fun. Personally, I got really hung up on the film’s portrayal of Venice, but that’s my problem. (There are doors on the Nautilus that are wider than half the canals in Venice; none of the bridges that are in Venice are in the movie and vice versa, and it was the worst fake St. Mark’s Square I’ve ever seen) On the other hand, I loved the special effects, particularly Mrs. Harker’s bats, and the whole thing is visually impressive (if, as I said before, wildly geographically inaccurate).

Rounding off the Disney trio is Finding Nemo. It’s a kid’s movie. It’s a cute kid’s movie with fabulous animation. Monsters Inc. is a much better film, though.

As one of my friends used to say, life is what happens when you’re trying to get things done. A lot of life has been happening lately.

I was expecting a visit from my aunt, uncle, cousin, and grandmother this afternoon, as they were driving back to Bloomington, Illinois from Cedar Point in Ohio. I had it all planned out–they were going to be in at around 4:00, we’d have an early-but-leisurely supper, and they would continue on. Plenty of time for my plans for the earlier part of the day.

Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans.

Things started to fall apart at 11:00. Ed and I had planned to go to lunch and then see League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. As it happened, League was only playing at 11:20 (too early) and 2:00 (too late). No problem, we thought, we’ll just see Pirates of the Caribbean at 12:20 (just right). This seemed like a really good idea until I got out of the theater and realized it was nearly 3:00 already. I always stay for the credits, partly because I’m an ex-film major and partly because I can’t stand to miss the surprise that occasionally comes after the credits (and yes, Pirates does have one). After a lightning-quick stop at the store, we pulled into the garage at a quarter after 3:00. I was ready to have lasagna in the oven by 3:30, and ready at 4:45. My mother’s car was outside, and she was inside. “They’re here,” she announced as I walked in the door. Apparently, my dad had taken them over to see the lab, hence the absence of minivan in my driveway.

Apparently, Bloomington, Illinois, was hit by the same storms that have turned parts of Indiana into a federal disaster area. (Frankly, I’ve thought Noblesville was a disaster for years–nature abhors a trailer park–but now it’s no longer just my opinion.) The neighbor who was watching my aunt and uncle’s house called them at their hotel in Ohio and, not very reassuringly, that she didn’t see any siding missing, and she was pretty sure that there wasn’t any flooding in the basement, and that they had chased down all the porch furniture. Naturally, this put my uncle in something of a state, and he was eager to get home. Really, really eager.

Lasagna was Right Out; there was no way that they were going to wait around for two hours. I threw together some pasta and meat sauce, my parents had brought a salad, and by the time my dad got them back to my house, I was cooking like it was going out of style. Supper was on the table in under half an hour, and enjoyed by all, I’m happy to say.

Ginger asks

How do you choose character names? What makes a good or bad name for a character? What are three examples of really good (or really bad) character names, and why are they so good or bad?

I’m going to skip the obvious Shakespeare quote, as I am certian that someone much cleverer than I has already used it. I think that a good name depends on the milieu. If my character is of a particular ethnicity or race, I like to choose an appropriate name. I also like to have fun with nicknames, which is how I originally came up with one of my favorite stock NPCs. Nicholas Finnegan is a perfectly normal name, but when shortened to Nicky Finn takes on a whole new aspect. It seemed to be a fabulous nickname for a “member of the criminal class,” (as one of his many victims might describe him). In fact, it’s because I like Nicky’s name so much that I cast him in a lot of my games, in one unscrupulous capacity or another.

In one of Doug’s (many) games, I had a character who was a member of the royal family, and one of seven children. I named her Tatiana Melissa Ariel Selene, figuring there were at least three relatives after whom she would to be named, in addition to a little homage to the (popular in Doug’s world) moon goddess. It was also a wonderfully unsuitable name for a burly, only-graceful-on-the-battlefield swordswoman, which is what she happened to be.

In my current Thrusday D & D game, my character’s name is Bronwyn. It was a good Celtic name, and as she’s a druid, that seemed rather appropriate. She’s also a foundling, so I didn’t think anyone would have put a huge amount of effort into coming up with anything unusual.

The worst all-time character name I ever heard was Richard Sucker, chosen by another player in a Vampire: The Masquerade game played many years ago. For the record, Richard was not my character–that was Alex(andra) Borstein, named after a girl with whom I was in a comedy troupe during my freshman year of college. The thing I remembered about the real Alex Borstein was that I almost never saw her without a cigarette in hand (even in nonsmoking areas–she left it unlit to have something to do with her hands), which was a trait I incorporated into the fictional Alex Borstein.

Congratulations to Colonel Daniel Davis, winner of Her Majesty’s Grand Ellipse.

Second place, by mere hours, goes to Lady Anastasia Bonnet. Third place is wide open, but the Addams are a good bet.

Role Call #24 asks

Have you ever felt like it was time to take a break, short or long, from roleplaying?

Back in high school and college, when I played several times a week and most of the weekend, my idea of a short break was time to sleep or go to class. Even during the deepest, darkest depths of grad school, I found time to game. So, no, I have never felt that I needed to take time away from gaming per se.

I have, however, felt the need to take a break from a particular campaign or group. Sometimes (most often) it’s a scheduling problem. Occasionally, a campaign peters out, or fails to get off the ground. Every once in a great while, I have felt a need to get the hell away from people in my group who were annoying me. Even the best of friends–and most of my gaming groups have been composed of good friends–can get on your nerves. In that particular situation, I think it can be beneficial, especially if you take your break before the situation gets too tense.

In my quest for health, I have gone to the gym three days in a row. On Tuesday, I used the weight machines for the first time in many, many, many (way too many) months. I knew it was going to hurt the next day.

I was right. Every other word out of my mouth was “ow,” and most of the rest were complaints. Tylenol was my best friend.

I skipped the gym yesterday, because the new exercise routine has had some…unforseen gastrointestinal consequences. My body then decided that 5:15 AM was a good time to get up this morning and do some Pilates. I’m not entirely sure why everything has been thrown out of whack, but I hope it settles down soon.