When in doubt, end with British-style sarcasm.

Although I look forward to Halloween every year, I am gradually coming to the realization that my current lifestyle is not conducive to fully enjoying the holiday.

By “lifestyle”, I of course mean “dogs”.

Nothing will ruin a fun night of jack-o-lanterns, trick-or-treaters, and copious snack-sized chocolate bars like a couple of insane dogs. They go apeshit when anyone comes near the house, which frankly, has come in handy. But it makes the prospect of answering the door fifty thousand times in one night a little tiring.

Also, some children are scared by the dogs. Really scared. Like, absolutely terrified. It ruins their fun. (Which is ironic, if you think about it… Halloween… scary things… black fly in your chardonnay…)

So Dan and I try to keep them away from the front door, which means that one of us has to babysit them in another room, because the prospect of being in the same house, but not having instantaneous access to us at all times, is really more than they can take.

Also right out: jack-o-lanterns in the windows, because they are technically food. And with me being a country hick, I am convinced that the instant pumpkins are placed on the porch, they will be hurled into the street by ruffians where they will start a Chicago-scale conflagration, so I don’t like to put them out there.

And, of course, every single candy wrapper MUST be accounted for, unless we want to find them in the lawn next spring after the snow thaws. If you don’t know what I mean, then you don’t have a dog.

So, to recap: tons of barking followed by isolation, crying kids, candy under lock and key, and anxiety over vandalism and arson.

Shame it’s only once a year, really.

No accounting for taste

I know I’ve been harping on Halloween costumes of late, but there’s more to the holiday than that.

There’s also a bevy of terrible movies that SciFi schleps out at Halloween. You know, like “Rose Red”, a miniseries based on a Steven King novel. Like all Steven King adaptations, it inexplicably sucks. The lack of acting ability is matched only by the terrible dialogue and excessive length. Also, it heavily features those not-so-scary animatronic “ghosts” that look really fake.

Usually, this roster is filled out by a bunch of movies that I actually want to watch, namely vampire moves. I will watch pretty much any piece of crap, at least for a little while, if there’s a vampire in it. I might not watch the whole thing, mind you, but I’ll give it a shot.

For instance, I just rented the craptastic Ultraviolet, because the description said that it was about vampires.

Except it wasn’t. What the hell? It wasn’t about vampires at all! Yeah, the people had the fangs, but that’s it. Seriously, what a freaking ripoff!

Anyway, for some reason, there were almost no vampire movies on TV this year. So I’d like to take this opportunity to request, nay, demand, that SciFi removes Rose Red from the lineup and replace all eight hours with vampire movies. You know, quality movies, like BloodRayne and Dracula 3000. Also, I’m still waiting to see Jesus Christ, Vampire Hunter, all you TV programmers. Let’s get with it, folks.

Hall of... well, not shame, at least

Okay, I’m doing something that I usually deride other people for. I’m posting a sort of flattering picture of myself on my blog. Seriously, I hate it when people do this.

But I have two very good reasons for doing so:

First: It illustrates the amazing costuming talent of my mother. Yes, my mom has been behind almost every costume I’ve ever worn. On this particular night, I was on my way to a high school dance with five other girls. My mother provided costumes for all of them. As I recall, there was a lady of the evening, a gypsy, little red riding hood, a hippie, and a cleaning lady. And mom made pretty much every article of clothing, including the hats. Seriously, it was like Project Runway for Halloween. Nina questioned her taste level, but mom got immunity for the next challenge.

Second: Although my mom is great at whipping up costumes with limited sewing ability, for this particular costume, she had a little help. The “base” of the dress I am wearing in this picture (the sparkly part) was provided by her sister. It’s possible that she sewed it herself – she’s a talented seamstress. I believe it was actually a wedding dress. Originally, she donated it to me so I could be Cinderella in a school play. My mom simply dressed it up with some old curtains and sheets, and then we dyed it pink. For this picture, we altered it a little more and dyed it red. Mom actually made the boa and a choker as well.

Anyway, the night I wore it was quite interesting. I believe it was the night that two boys asked me to dance at the same time. You might remember this night as well – the night of the freak eclipse? With the unexpected meteor shower? There were reports of porcine levitation. Also, when I got home, there was a message on my machine from a “Mr. B. Elzebub”, who sounded pretty pissed. I guess there was a frost at his house and he lost some begonias. Like that was my fault. Well, whatever. I had a good time. So thanks mom and Aunt Nancy.

Hall of Shame

As I alluded to previously, I’m pretty fond of Halloween. Seriously though, what’s not to love – the dressing up or the eating candy?

However, I should never be allowed to come up with my own costume ideas, because I suck at it. Examples, you say? Comin’ atcha:

1. The picture on the right is me in 8th grade. Obviously, I thought it would be “cool” to dress as Robin Hood. Let me stress the fact that I went to school dressed this way. Why, why, WHY? Three reasons: I really liked the PBS Robin Hood shows, we had a bow already*, and what was the third reason? Oh, right, BECAUSE I AM A NERD. Yes, I am also wearing a sword. I also believe I attached a leather pouch to the belt. Hopefully I took the 20-sided dice out first.
2. A few years ago, I dressed as Frodo. I figured, why not, I have short pants. Plus, the movies had just come out. Well guess what, it sucked. Big surprise there. Especially since I didn’t really know a lot of people at the party we went to. Dressing as a hobbit is not good for your self-esteem, especially if you are a chick at a party where every other chick in the whole place is dressed as some variation of a “sexy (fill-in-the-blank)”. There was even a sexy chicken, for crissake.
3. The next year, it took some very serious persuading for Dan to convince me not to dress as a Villager from the Prisoner. If he hadn’t come up with the costume idea that we actually went with (undead samurai and geisha assasin), I would’ve blithely relived the entire hobbit experience again, only I would’ve had to explain what I was to every single person at the party. Because no one but me and Patrick McGoohan would know who I was. And Patrick McGoohan wasn't there.
4. This year, my brilliant idea was to dress as Meg Griffin. Seriously. I had it all planned out, until Dan pointed out that dressing as a character that is supposed to be really ugly probably wasn’t a good idea for my fragile ego.

Anyway, enough with the sob stories of nerdy costumes past. Next up will be some of the better Halloweens, the ones where I maintained my dignity! Stay tuned!

*Um, we had a bow because someone left it in the house we had just moved into. So I painted it gold for some reason. Because of the gold, a lot of people thought I was Peter Pan instead of Robin Hood. Not much of an improvement. Please don't ask about the sword.

Number 10

All right, I know I promised a bunch of Halloween posts, but you’re probably wondering when I was going to get around to talking about the new Doctor, the one who replaced Chris Eccleston. In fact, you’re probably amazed I didn’t already have a post about it. Well, wait no longer. Let me just brush off my nerd hat here and cram it on my head.

I’m happy to report that the new Doctor, David Tennant*, is excellent. He’s no Tom Baker, but he is certainly giving Peter Davison a run for his money for second place. (You know, Peter Davison? The blonde one? Young guy? Cricket suit? With a piece of celery in the lapel? Hello? This thing on?)

You may well ask what I am basing this considered opinion on. No less than a well-reasoned, unemotional, completely objective analysis of the qualities that are important for an actor undertaking the role of Doctor. Specifically, David Tennant brings the following to the esteemed role:

1. He is Scottish.
2. He has sideburns. Awesome sideburns.

Given these stellar credentials, there really was no question of what my opinion would be. It was pretty much a forgone conclusion, but there you go.

Also, I like his glasses.

* Did you know that he is dating the chick that played Madame du Pompadour? They met on set, I guess. How cute is that?

Up for Grabs

Well, I have bad news to report. Our friend Kevin is leaving the area soon. We are quite saddened by this, the fact that he would give up occasionally hanging out with us in order to move across the country, all for such fleeting pleasures as job satisfaction and the love of a good woman!

You can be sure, we are taking this personally. By “we”, I of course mean “me”.

So, on to the bad news. (That was a joke, by the way. I already told you the bad news.) His going-away party is on the same night as the Halloween party Dan and I were planning to attend. So no costumes for us this year.

However, since Dan came up with such a great idea, I feel it would be remiss of me not to share it with the world. I was going to wear a bear mask and/or ears, carry a camcorder, and have a nametag that says “#141”. Dan was going to be a zombie in a ripped up flannel shirt.

Oh yes, we were going to be Undead Grizzly Man and the bear.

In bad taste, you say? Yes, but I like it too.

Since we will no longer be needing this fantastic couples’ costume, feel free to hook up with a friend, significant other, or spouse and use it yourself.

Anyway, look for more fun Halloween-themed posts all this week here at Monkey Eats a Taco. Um, it will be a spooky good time? Or maybe scare-tastic. Or maybe just a bunch of blog posts. You never know.

You're gonna buy a what now?

Yeah, um, I think we need to buy one of those weird fingernail brushes. You know, the ones that your grandpa or uncle always had in the medicine cabinet, with pumice on the handle, and made you wonder what he could possibly be doing that would require a brush just for his fingernails.

Well, it turns out that he was probably working on an engine of some kind, one that was covered in a thick layer of grime.

I know this because I have begun working on our printing press more often, and have come to realize that there is about a hundred years of built-up grease and grime on some parts of the thing. And when I say "a hundred years" I am being literal. Literally.

Anyway, some of this grime has to be cleaned off if we are ever going to convice people to buy our cards, like the lovely number pictured above. I don't think hunks of congealed 3-in-1 oil mixed with paper fiber and insect parts is really a selling point, so I've been trying to clean off some of the gunk so it won't get on the product.

Still, it's kind of* fun to mess around with the press and get dirty fingernails. But I definitely will need one of those brushes. Goop doesn't cut it for this particular application. Goop is the hand cleaner that comes in tubs that you keep in the shop, and you scoop out a big glop of it (leaving the exact impression of your fingers) and smear it around and then wipe your hands on a rag to get most of the grime off before you wash your hands with soap and water in the house, with a fingernail brush.

And don't you dare wipe your hands on my good towels. Those are for guests.

*By kind of, I mean incredibly, incalculably, astonishingly, and mightily satisfying. I really, really like having a shop, with tools, and that musty/greasy-but-good smell, and a big ol' hunk of iron to oil and clean and adjust. I know, you love me because I'm so feminine.

Celebrate good times! C'mon!

Four years ago, Dan and I got married. It was a good time.

Actually, it was more than a good time. It was a great time. I don't like to brag*, but our wedding was fucking awesome. Seriously. Don't believe me? Read on, my friend:

1. At every wedding we have been to since, someone has mentioned that they had a great time at our wedding. Even the mother of my old arch-nemesis still reminds us what a good time she had.**
2. The wedding was so touching that the photographer, who had shot hundreds of weddings, actually cried. Boo-yah! Making people cry!
3. Several people liked our location so much that they attempted (and were in some cases successful) to get their own children to have their reception at the same place. The last time you got married, do you remember your parents begging you to let them pay for you to get married at a beautiful bed and breakfast in a town hundreds of miles from where you actually live? I think not.
4. A few weeks after the wedding, we got a card from someone that had such a good time, that they wanted to thank us for being invited.***
5. Martha Stewart disguised herself as a guest so she could get ideas.
6. The hand of God came down during the ceremony to bless us personally, and then stuck around and jammed with the guitar player for our recessional (which was an Allman Brothers tune, if I remember correctly).

Okay, so the last two are made up. But it was fun.

* This is a lie. I love to brag.

** Please don't ask me how the parents of my arch-enemy got invited to my wedding.

*** You know, I'm not convinced about the italics. Kind of cheesy, wot?

Time to come clean.

I have a confession to make. In previous blogs, I have identified myself as a geek. This is not true.

In all actuality, I am a nerd. I guess I got swept up in the recent popularity of geekery, and thought I could pass myself off as a geek. But I can’t. I just can’t do it anymore. The lying, the deception, the pretending to care about linux... it's just too much for me.

Not to say that I don’t occasionally engage in some geek behavior. For example, I recently downloaded one of the “inner tracks” from Katamari Damacy as my ringtone. (See also: blogging about math)

However, my nerdy behavior cancels this out. Example: blogging about the Dark Crystal sequel. And then, last month, I did the nerdiest thing ever. Something so nerdy that I can no longer in good conscience even pretend to be a geek.

I joined the Science Fiction Book Club.

That’s right. I joined a club where they send you actual books, with paper and covers and everything, and in those books are stories about dragons and mages and robot clones and crap.

What’s this? You don’t know the difference between geeks and nerds?* Jesus, what are you, normal or something?


*Because geeks now control the internets, most of the opinions you see today stating that geeks are higher up the social strata than nerds must be taken with a grain of salt. Of course, geeks will say that.

If I had the time, I would join some of the three billion chat arguments on the topic. But I have to get back to my book – Fafhrd is stuck in the howling tower with ghost wolves or some shit.