Date Archives April 2008

Children in the office shouldn’t be seen OR heard.

It’s ‘bring your obnoxious brat to work’ day. If I wanted to work in an environment with screaming children, I’d still be at Legoland, thanks. Or I’d apply at Chuck E Cheese to experience the more vibrant, resonating, ear-piercing indoor scream.

I sort of wish I could get them to chase a ball out into the street.

What’s the point of today, anyway? What with all of the running down the halls, destroying my work on the whiteboards, and shitting on the floor, all it does is turn the office into a goddamned daycare and they view work as a big playday. If you’re going to bring them here, at the very least, you can start the process of crushing their spirits for the eventual soul-sapping office-job drudgery they’re destined for.

When I’m dictator, I’m going to be an advocate of child labor–why shouldn’t they sew and make handicrafts? Their eye-hand coordination will never be better, and their fingers will never be more nimble!

Mellzah’s Midnight Carnival

For as long as I’ve been planning this event, you’d think by the time Sunday morning rolled around, I’d be relaxed and ready to go. This indicates that you don’t know me very well–if I’m not cursing and furiously working on something up until the very last minute, it means I didn’t set the bar nearly high enough. As it was, there were a few things I would’ve liked to get done that were eliminated from the mix, but as they were decorative touches and not absolutely necessary, it wasn’t going to bring the party to a crashing halt.

The one thing that WAS necessary that didn’t get taken care of, I didn’t have any control over. I apologize to anyone who showed up and had to pay for their own food; that was not part of the original agreement. It was sprung on me as I walked in the door at 5 to begin setting up, and at that point, it’s not enough notice to get a large amount of food from anywhere. However, no one starved to death on my watch, and that’s the important thing.

The first order of business was getting my decorations up. I decided that I wanted to paint a bunch of cloth banners like the ones they hang outside of freak shows at fly-by-night carnivals; originally I wanted to do one for every performer, but the pictures I got from Pure Cirkus didn’t show most of their faces very clearly, and I didn’t want to offend anyone as I’m not exactly the greatest artist. Also, I just plain ran out of time.



As you can see, I painted myself in as a flaming pole-smoker.

I pushed for people to show up at six, but most people were running behind; we ended up pushing the start of the show back until seven in order to give the bellydancer time to finish getting ready, and hopefully have a few more people for her to perform for. In the meanwhile, conceptcanibal‘s mom, Jodi, read tarot cards for those who wanted them read.



After one of the members of Pure Cirkus kindly offered to run sound for the show, Sephira took the stage. It’s hard to tell from the pictures, but she was covered head to toe in glitter, which made her glow onstage in a particularly captivating way.


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During one of her dances, she danced out into the audience and draped a red scarf onto me and gave me a card that was tucked into the front waistband of her outfit. In the dark, no one can see you blush!

While the next act got ready, some Pure Cirkus performers wandered out on stilts into the audience, juggling, and interacting with the guests.

232_12882638939_6023_n Here, my flash has blinded James and Katy. I also blinded Mad Mat, who dropped his lemons. I have a whole series of ‘Here, my flash blinded _____’ pictures. I may have to make a coffee table book. Next up were some acrobalancers, whose act I didn’t see as I was in the back having my cards read. Stayce grabbed my camera and got this shot:



After they were done, it was time for the first burlesque dancer.


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Next came Phoenix, the contortionist; the MC observed that just watching her throws his back out on occasion. Please do not attempt this at home, thanks. Or if you do, don’t blame me when your foot goes flying across the room in a horrible accident.

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After Phoenix in the lineup came Inga Ingénue, the ‘Little Blonde Bomb’ and one of the founding members of Sinner Saint Burlesque.

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At this point in her act, she paused, and the music paused as well. From the back, reliable George piped in with an ‘AWWWW c’mon!’, which set everyone laughing. jimhark later remarked that it was the funniest thing he’d heard in the club for weeks. George claims that he was into the music and was upset they’d paused it, but I believe you and I can agree that’s a total lie. After her act, the MC came back on and laughed that George was just acting as an advocate for the rest of us, which seems to fit the situation a little better!

When Inga left the stage, it was time for more acrobalancing. Watching this act made me sad I’d missed the first round!


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232_12883613939_5242_n That is the best face in the history of ever.

Wrapping up the show was Mad Mat, the Indestructible Man. Even after I blinded him, he bravely forged ahead and went through with his act.

First, he climbed a ladder of swords.



Next, he bent some steel rebar using the hollow of his throat.




Earlier, he’d approached me and asked me if I was still relatively sober; he wanted me to walk on him wearing NAIL BOOTS. However, he was concerned that I’d hurt MYSELF by twisting an ankle or something. I was way more concerned about stabbing him through the gut with 100 nails, frankly, so I’m sort of glad they decided against it, once again, out of concern for MY safety. (I emphasize this because it blows my mind).



To demonstrate that the bed of nails didn’t retract, Mad Mat had audience members throw apples at the bed, which promptly stuck. This was a *nasty* bed of nails, folks. Sharp AND rusty. The MC claims Mat gets a tetanus shot every 6 weeks or so; I don’t disbelieve it.

Before one can go to bed, however, one must dress down appropriately. Mat? Prefers to sleep in lace underwear with garters.







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Afterward, Mad Mat gave himself what’s known as a ‘steel vasectomy’ by bending steel rebar around his junk.


232_12883703939_987_n   232_12883718939_2123_n 232_12883713939_1709_n I lied. THIS may be the best face in the history of ever.


232_12883728939_2883_n While Mat put his clothes back on, LuckyHenny Penny stuck a wooden skewer up into her head. Up. In. Her. Head.



And then she walked over to me to pull it out. To pull it out of her head.

232_12883753939_4388_n I think that Mad Mat would make an imposing figure on Iron Chef.

This trick is called the ‘Sword Guillotine’.



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After nearly getting his head chopped off, Mad Mat then proceeded to catch a bullet; Xavier passed the bullets around allowing anyone who wanted to inspect them to look and touch them to ensure they’re real bullets. He then called me onstage to watch him load it into the gun.

It’s a tense moment.




Moments later, Mat presented the bullet to everyone. I figured that was the zenith of the evening. Oh no. Mat had one more trick up his sleeve for everyone.




Xavier locked him into a restraint belt with multiple Master locks on it. This restraint belt was hooked to a winch, which pulled him toward a contraption with four swords and two running chainsaws on it; if Mat didn’t free himself in time…well, it was hard to watch. (He’s wearing one of my little mustache buttons!)

The outcome? Here’s another ‘video’:

As you can see, he cut it really close. After he freed his arms, he pulled a bobby pin out of his mouth to pick the locks; by the time he finished picking them, he was within inches of being chainsawed to death. You can also see that toward the end, Xavier started to lean over the machine to (I’m guessing) know if to activate a safety mechanism to keep Mat from being chainsawed to death. No one wants a violent chainsaw death at their birthday party!

Afterward, Xavier rounded up everyone so I could get a photo taken with them:



Given that it was a Sunday night, hardly anyone could stay very late, so I didn’t get too many pictures of my friends, unfortunately. Also, unfortunately, very few people grabbed cake before they left, so I still have half of girlpirate‘s mustache man:


I like that people took pictures in my amazing gloryhole wall, though!




It also makes me laugh to see Nicole checking out the painted chick’s boobs.

During the caking and drinking hour (during which I am thrilled no one choked to death on the Swedish fish in my FeeJee Mermaid shot), I put on a second mix cd I made–you know those natural lulls in conversation where everyone stops talking? This–and I couldn’t have timed it better if I planned it–is exactly when Rick Astley’s ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ started playing. That’s right. I RickRolled EVERYONE. And then we all shared a moment of dancing like Rick Astley.

I wrapped up the evening chatting and laughing with v1c1ous, Ryan, Iva, Tristan, and Sean’s friend whose name is either Amanda or Jessica but I can’t remember which because I am a terrible person.

So many wonderful people made it out to my party; lots of people I never expected to attend, even. When I think about it, it almost makes me want to cry. It’s hard for me to believe that only a few short years ago, I really didn’t know any of them. Thank you to everyone who came or called or sent cards…you make my world a much better place by being in it.

I spent the last few minutes of my birthday walking Napoleon, with my headphones blasting, and dancing like a jackass. No fewer than three people saw me do this. I may be a year older, but as far as being wiser goes, nothing at all has changed.

This is Valloween; Everybody Scream!

AKA: How to Half-Ass A Costume So Spectacular You Are Permanently Disqualified From Future Costume Contests.

Saturday night was Valloween, a party combining both Halloween and Valentine’s Day in a celebration of love and murder. Naturally, there was a costume contest. Since the moment I was invited, I’d been thinking about costumes and feeling discouraged, because I was sure that every idea I liked would be from sources as unrecognizable as last year’s Annie Wilkes.

Then, as I awoke one morning, inspiration struck. Who better embodies the two facets of love and murder than Two-Face? It’s got nerd cred. It’s topical, with the new Batman movie coming out this summer and a strong ‘I support Harvey Dent’ viral marketing campaign. It’d be a fun costume. That same day, I ran out and got a suit jacket from Value Village that made me look like the captain of the Love Boat, and also promptly set it aside to continue working on stuff for Mellzah’s Midnight Carnival.

This was a mistake. Had I not waited until the day before Valloween to start working on my costume, I would’ve known earlier that Captain Merrill Stubing’s jacket didn’t want to absorb any color, and I wouldn’t have had a moment of mad panic. Having swept two Halloween costume awards in a row, this particular party crowd expects big things from me. WHAT WAS I GOING TO DO?

Step one: Look at failed costume. Moan in despair. Have a (slight) hissy fit.

Step two: Take inventory of all the costume bits and bobs you have lying around, and any supplies you have to potentially make or accessorize a costume.

Step three: Talk with a spooky costume guru–mine is shadowstitch. He ran with my Two-Face idea and tossed out a bunch of other characters with multiple faces. When he landed on the Mayor of Halloweentown, I knew he had saved Christmas.

Step four: Grab the paper that you intended to use for large drink menus but ran out of time. Figure out how to roll it into an appropriately-shaped cone. Curse at it a little bit. Realize you don’t have enough hands to hold it and tape it in all of the proper places. Curse at it a lot.

Step five: Bust out the paint and touch up a rubber squeaky spider. You may want to accidentally squeak it while painting it, convincing your dog that SURELY you are holding HIS toy hostage, so he will whine and moan and attempt to snatch it out of your hands for the remainder of the time you’re working on it. While you’re at it, mix up some paint for the head and mayoral badge.

Step six: Find a button you’re willing to sacrifice. I picked one I should’ve thrown out years ago, but was afraid that someone digging through my garbage would find it and some junk mail in my name and associate it with me. Glue this pin to the back of the mayoral badge you’ve painted.

Step seven: Realize you’re never going to make the other event you scheduled for the evening, start to panic and feel like an asshole because you’re missing deqlan‘s birthday. Take a hairdryer and start blasting the head, squeaky spider, and mayoral badge. This would be a good time to burn your hand. This would also be a good time to again accidentally squeak the rubber spider, re-alerting your dog to its presence.

Step eight: In your rush, slop paint on your clothes. Curse some more. It helps.

Step nine: More hairdryer.

Step ten: Fabulousness!


When I arrived at safetymonkey’s place in my half-assed costume, people immediately started asking if the head flipped around. When I showed them it did, there were audible groans of “aww fuck, she’s won again. Right there. She just won.”

Jon greeted me at the door and exclaimed that he was wondering when I’d show up and had hypothesized that I was just tired of winning. Nosir!

At the party, the ‘STD Fairy’ decided to give me gonorrhea, which, incidentally, is the one STD I can’t seem to remember how to spell. At the very least, now I know that the wikipedia entry for ‘sexually transmitted disease’ is blocked by my workplace filters. Apparently, when they sent out that handbook instructing us how to self-treat STDs, that was meant to be the last word on the subject!

When it came time to announce the contest winners, Jon stepped up and proclaimed, “There have always been two costume contest categories at our parties; best costume, and best worst costume. The time has come where we feel that we must add a third. This new category is the ‘Melissa’ category, as we feel it is unfair to make mere mortals compete against her, and otherwise she’ll continue to sweep the best costume category. ”

So, I’ve won, but I’ve also been permanently disqualified from the regular contests. Does this mean that in the future, all I’ll have to do to win my special ‘Melissa’ prize is not change my name and just show up? Time will tell!