I finally have a better understanding of what Chat Roulette* is after watching this clever video from Casey Neistat. Spoiler: there are perverts who troll this random video chat mechanism! Sch0cking! I have to admit that I’m mildly curious to check it out, but definitely less so after learning more about Chat Roulette Maps. Oh, internet.
*Which, as “chatroulette,” for some reason brings to mind the word “charlatan.” Also, it took me a while to realize it was not a French-sounding “CHA-troulette.”
There is just something quintessentially geeky about an a capella group doing show choir-y moves to an all-male version of Lady Gaga’s Pokerface. And doing it WELL, I might add!
That will help hold me over until Glee starts up again in April. I was surprised how much I like that show, though it’s not really that surprising because it’s pretty amazing. The hyper-stereotyped characters crack me up! But I could do with fewer musical numbers, even though duh, I know that’s half the point of the show. And I want to smack Will Schuester most of the time.
I was in show choir in my small high school (it was my dream, I should probably mention) though I was a very average dancer and certainly not one of the “popular kids” in the group. Which is kind of sad when you think about it. Most of us were in band, choir, show choir, and the school’s various theatrical performances together. Still, I had fun and it gave me a place to fit in and fall in love with guys who I didn’t realize were gay. Promoters of abstinence-only education should take note that homosexuality in high school increases virginity rates among straight teens! At least in cases like mine.
From there, I went to the Dumbrella booth where Wil Wheaton was supposed to be signing autographs. I got there about 5:40, in plenty of time for his 5:30-6:30 signing, except I didn’t remember his Twitter post correctly because it was really 4:30-5:30. Crap! I got lucky, though, because around the back of the booth I spotted him (squee!) being interviewed. Not knowing how quickly he was going to run off afterwards, I stood back and took a photo.
As I waited like a real geek in my bold black and yellow Star Wars tee, I realized that the woman interviewing him was Leah from Mahalo Daily. Cool! The interview kept going, so I meandered around the adjacent booths pretending to be looking at their stuff when really I was just waiting in the wings to pounce on Wil when the taping stopped. I found an inconspicuous spot behind him so at least I wouldn’t look like a stalker. And then suddenly I realized that I may have been in the line of vision of the freakin’ Mahalo Daily camera… I bolted out of that as quickly as possible when I realized it. I was in no condition to have my disheveled and sweaty geek self recorded for all eternity on the internet, staring intently at the celebrity giving an interview I couldn’t even hear. Gah. Hopefully I didn’t actually make it into the footage.
[Edit: I'm in the shot from minute 6:28 until you see a brief look of terror and my quick departure at 6:49. I'm semi-fuzzy in the background, so thankfully I'm not as horrified after the fact.]
Anyway. The interview finally ended and they chatted off camera for a little while longer. Then, when the Mahalo Daily people turned away, two fanboys pounced on Wil before I could from my slightly more inconspicuous (really this time) spot. One guy invited Wil to his film screening, and the other just wanted to say hi after comfirming that he was the kid from Stand By Me.
“I’m a bigger fan,” I thought to myself, imagining scenarios in which I could shove the guys aside cartoon violence-style. “After all, I’ve read his books and I subscribe to his Twitter feed and his blog and I’m a fan of his writing, and he would appreciate that.” I thumbed my Moleskine notebook while talking to myself and then suddenly realized that the second guy was leaving. I started sweating nervous buckets when he glanced at me, possibly wondering if I was just going to follow him around all night being a creepy fangirl in the shadows.
“Hi,” I blurted in his direction. “I know you were signing autographs earlier, and I missed it…”
He interrupted me and caught me completely off guard by saying “Well, I’m still here, so it looks like you didn’t miss me.”
So I stammered out an autograph request that sounded so completely retarded out loud I thought he might just laugh nervously and run away. What exactly I said, I don’t remember, but he responded warmly and put me more at ease because he was just so approachable, which somehow turned right back around and made me nervous as hell.
I told him that I read his blog and he expressed surprising gratitude that made me just want to hug him. I had wanted to say how much I took from his journey to becoming a writer in Just a Geek, but it came out more generic. “You really inspire me as a writer,” or something. *facepalm* I told him that I was tickled that he was also inspired by David Sedaris (as he wrote about on his blog a few weeks ago).
The whole time that I blabbered on about this or that, he maintained a very engaged, steady eye contact. I was a little too nervous to maintain steady eye contact myself (which normally is no problem for me). He was really listening to me, which speaks volumes. I wish I’d dabbed off my sweaty glow before approaching him!
And then came the part that is still making my face flush. I had been holding my geeky business card while walking, and finally held it out to him. “Well, this is me, and I just want you to know that if I ever become a writer you should know that you inspired me.”
Wil graciously took the card from me and I thanked him again. I wanted to just reach out and hug him, but didn’t want to go that far and completely invade his personal space, so I just held out my hand for him to shake. He shook it with both hands, which surprised and delighted me. He expressed thanks with more sincerity than I think I did. I grinned and we parted ways, though I turned back after a couple steps and watched him walk away, not wanting to lose the moment but at the same time wanting to relax and return to my normal non-fangirl self.
Now I not only want to be a writer like Wil Wheaton. If I ever reach a celebrity position of any level, I also want to be gracious fan-friendly celebrity like Wil Wheaton.
What better way to celebrate the independence of our nation than with Muppets? (With illegal fireworks and homebrew, you say? Well, to each his own…)
Here’s a new clip with a Sam the Eagle who, despite sounding weird because he’s not being voiced by Frank Oz, is still a bumbling ball of blue Muppet joy with his Declaration of Independence: “We the people, in order to form a more perfect unton, establish justice, and keep the world safe from weirdos…”
I don’t really have any plans for this weekend, except for trying to pry Ben away from working on the house for long enough to barbeque some large slabs of meat and fresh pineapple. Have you ever tried grilling fresh pineapple slices? Seriously, even if you’re the most serious meat-eater, there is something delicious about sweet, juicy pineapple with grill marks on it and the heady flavor of charcoal. It probably wouldn’t taste the same on a gas grill, but I’ve not tried that so I don’t know.
Now if I could build myself a Sam the Eagle muppet, he might not have the same opinion about grilled pineapple. He might be inclined to say that it’s un-American (in what would definitely NOT sound like Frank Oz’s Sam the Eagle voice) because it doesn’t sound like traditional American fare.
But pineapples are from Hawaii, right? Which became the 50th state in 1959. So pineapples are, therefore, QUITE American.
In conclusion: Grilled Fresh Pineapple = Magically Delicious, and possibly Patriotic.
The novel isn’t coming along so much right now. I went to bed early last night and feel somewhat refreshed, aside from the fact that I somehow pulled a muscle in lower back and it still hurts. Also, I broke my alarm clock this morning.
Ben was already gone this morning when I hit the snooze button for the third time and the whole button caved in without making the noise stop. I had to flip the button to off and actually drag my ass out of bed so I wouldn’t fall asleep again. Did I just say that I was feeling refreshed today? Well, I mean that in comparison to yesterday, which was also better than how I felt on Tuesday.
Anyway, Ben wasn’t upset about my alarm clock being broken because, in his words, I can finally replace my "1984 standard." Yeah, it’s like the ones you get at Wal-Mart for five bucks and has the most annoying sound in the world.
Maybe I’ll hunt eBay for a flip-time clock like my parents had when I was growing up. You know the type? Before the digital age, they looked somewhat digital. About as digital as fast food joints’ signs that they change infrequently outside of their stores, even though they say "ish san ich is her !"
Right, so that novel I’m working on. I’m taking it on a flash drive to work just in case, though I doubt I’ll get the chance to write much there. Tonight, however… I’m going to make the mad typing fiend come out again.