good evening (and good night)

Posted on By Wil

"I want to have a date tonight. Do you want to have a date tonight?" Maybe I should have passed her a note that said "check yes or no" but after fifteen years together, I often think of these cute and clever things hours after the fact.

Anne looked up from her magazine. "I like having dates with my husband," she said.

"Yeah, I was talking to him online earlier today, and he said that he likes having dates with you."

She closed her magazine and tossed it onto the coffee table. "Where do you want to go?"

"Someplace we haven't gone before. That'll be an adventure."

Yeah, I've been suburbanized so long, going to a restaurant I haven't been to before now qualifies as an adventure. Twenty-two year-old Wil just put down his copy of Naked Lunch long enough to shake his head in either sadness, or disgust, depending on what angle you're looking at him from.

"Let's try that cafe on Raymond," she said.

So we did, and it was amazing, and we'll be going back frequently in the weeks and months to come. 

(Parenthetical highlight: during our meal, a woman in her late 40s, wearing a fur leopard-print bucket hat and a shiny patent leather overcoat sat down next to us. It was such a stunning display of wrongness that I involuntarily stopped talking in mid word, and just stared at Anne. She looked back at me and very calmly said, "I have … comments." I laughed so hard, it must have looked like I was having a seizure.)

After dinner, we went to BevMo to get a present for one of our friends. While we were there, I picked up a Sublimely Self-Righteous Ale and a Rogue Chipotle Ale. 

"I thought we were just here to get [REDACTED BECAUSE OUR FRIEND READS MY BLOG]," Anne said.

"It's so weird when you talk in all caps like that," I said. She looked back at me, patiently.

"Well, we are … but if I don't buy these beers, the terrorists have won."

"What is this, 2003?"

"NEVER FORGET, ANNE."

She gave me a look that said Tired of Your Shenanigans, Next Exit.

I got the message and quietly took my place in line.

(Incidentally, our time in BevMo may not have transpired in precisely that manner, but as I found the creation/retelling of this experience entertaining, I hope you will indulge me this bit of creative memory.)

When we got home, the night was still young, so I suggested we watch a movie together.

"What did you have in mind?" Anne asked.

I turned on our Roku and went to my Netflix queue. "How about … Thank God It's Friday?"

"The Disney movie?"

"What?"

"… oh. That's Freaky Friday. Never mind."

We laughed together. "This is a disco movie that was made in 1978, and features Donna Summer and The Commodores, plus career performances from Debra Winger, Terri Nunn and Jeff Goldblum."

"You had me at 'disco movie,'" she said.

I was delighted to see that it was streaming in HD, thanks to my ISP temporarily forgetting to serve up about a quarter of the bandwidth I'm paying for, which is their custom.

The movie was just spectacular, and a ridiculous amount of fun. If you have 90 minutes and the means to view it, I highly recommend it.

About twenty minutes into the film, Anne paused it and looked at me. "You know what would make this movie even better?"

"Something I wouldn't want to recount on my blog?" I didn't actually say, but you must admit just made you giggle. 

"Scotchy scotch scotch."

"It goes down … down into my belly!"

I went to our liquor cabinet, and pulled out a bottle of Laphroaig. I poured two small glasses and gave her one of them.

"To cheesy 70s disco movies and dates together," I said.

Clink!

"I just love my husband," she said.

"I love you the most," I said.

Twenty-two year-old me turned up Chet Baker on the CD player, and sighed wistfully. He didn't have any idea that in less than a year, he would meet the girl of his dreams.

good morning

Posted on By Wil

I woke this morning to the sound of rain falling outside my window, and discovered that both of my dogs had jumped up onto my bed overnight and were snuggled into me to keep warm.

When I lifted my head from my pillow, I saw that both cats were also on the bed, tucked into tiny little "I really want to stay warm" lumps of fur.

My dog Riley, near my feet thumped her tail heavily against the bed.

"Yes, I'm awake," I said. The thumping became serious wagging.

Seamus, our other dog, stretched out his body to maximum extension and grunted, happily, before rolling onto his back and pushing his head into my ribs. One of the cats began to purr.

I stretched, rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, and scratched Seamus' chin. I was pretty sure he smiled at me.

The day wasn't five minutes old, and I already felt peaceful and loved.

Anne appeared in the doorway, a mug of coffee in one hand. "Good morning," she said.

"It sure is," I replied.

the frozen pretzel conundrum

Posted on By Wil

I am slowly but steadily finding my way back to that mysterious land where I feel motivated and inspired to write something every day. I blame Fallout: New Vegas for wrapping me up in an interesting world every night, and a giant stack of comic books that reminded me how much I love superhero stories. I've been working on a short short story (about 2K words) that I hope to release soon, but holy shit is it kicking my ass. I have a ton of respect for authors who can stick with a full length (or even 10K or 15K) story, because I am having a very hard time getting out of the "well, this was a good idea, but the execution really sucks" part of the process.

Anyway, that's not why I sat down to write this post. This post is about this frozen box of pretzels I bought yesterday, which can allegedly be heated to perfection in the microwave, dusted with salt (that comes in a handy packet and everything) and then enjoyed the way one enjoys a pretzel that does not suck.

What. A. Load.

Seriously, I don't think there's enough beer and mustard on the planet to make this pretzel — which is more chewy unsatisfying lump of salty dough than what is traditionally understood to be a pretzel — enjoyable.

But it's sitting here, on my desk, looking all sad and lumpy and pathetic, one bite taken out of it, almost apologetic. If this pretzel-like thing could talk, it would probably say, "Hey, man, I'm sorry. When I was at the pretzel place where they make pretzels, I came out of the oven and I was perfect. I was warm, I had that pretzel thing going where the outside of me is slightly thicker than regular crust, so the inside of me was all soft and kind of lighter than regular bread, but when they froze me and put me into the box, well, something just died inside of me, man."

I feel like I should apologize to the pretzel for hating it so much — it's not entirely its fault that it sucks as much as it does — but unlike everything else that surrounds me, this particular inanimate object doesn't seem interested in having a conversation with me that I can transcribe. Uh, beyond the one prepared statement, I guess.

I guess it's my own fault for ignoring a lifetime of disappointing microwavable bread products and ignoring the sage advice of my wife, who said, "That's going to suck, and you're going to be pissed that you bought it, and you keep complaining about feeling tubby so why are you eating pretzels, anyway?"

I guess the moral of the story is: don't go shopping when you're hungry.

In happier news, I have three pretzel-shaped frozen hunks of bread to throw at the next group of surly kids who refuse to get off my lawn.

in which i join forces with @reddit for a pretty awesome auction

Posted on By Wil

Reddit I am in you!

 

Some of you may know that I love Reddit (and now, I guess, you all know that. And while we're in this parenthetical, is it weird that I say "you" when writing to a few million people, many of whom I'm never going to actually meet? Is it weird to be so familiar? I think saying "dear readers" or "my readers" would be even more strange. I hate the term "my ____" because it implies ownership, and that's just … really, really not how I roll. Wow, this is a neurotic and rambling parenthetical, isn't it? I guess I'll end it now and go back to the post at hand. Let's never speak of this again.)

Recently on BoingBoing, Cory said this of Reddit, which sums up why it is the online community where I spend pretty much all of my online community time (yeah, that's a line item in the time budget):

…it's just as possible to build a society on social norms of mutual aid, compassion and whimsy as it is to build one on juvenile, meanspirited trolling and cynicism.

It's not too hard to find people who are being dicks, just like anywhere else in the world, but Reddit self-corrects better than any other online communityI've ever been part of. I have some theories on this, but I think it's because the core of Reddit users are all people who left other sites because they wanted to spend their online community time at a place where people weren't dicks, and protecting that (leading by example, usually) is important to us.

So, there. Now you know why I love Reddit so much (and here's me at Reddit, if you care about that sort of thing.)

All of this is preamble to the real purpose of this post: to point out an auction I'm doing with the Reddit admins to raise money and awareness for Fly With Dignity (or EFF, if Fly With Dignity doesn't need it).

Quoth raldi:

Back in 2009, when reddit's first iPhone app launched, kn0thing made a commercial featuring the underused marketing line, "More fun than LARPing with Wil Wheaton!"

Shortly thereafter, we had the motto laser-etched onto the back of a top-of-the-line 16GB iPod Touch and asked Wil to sign it (he's a avid redditor, of course.) We figured we could pick a charity and auction it off. I mean, who wouldn't want a piece of technology signed by this guy?

As the kids say, read the whole thing (because it's funny, and contains pictures and video that 4 out of 5 Bothans found quite amusing, and saves me the hassle of copying the whole thing.)

In addition to a spiffy and nearly-obsolete iPod Touch that is actually signed by me OMG, I'm adding a signed copy of the super swanky leather-bound and slip-cased Subterranean Press edition of The Happiest Days of Our Lives. I'm also including the audio versions of Just A Geek and Happiest Days of our Lives (it is an iPod, after all) and all existing episodes of Radio Free Burrito and Memories of the Futurecast.

Here is the auction.