Hamblog

A couple friends made allusions recently to the similarity of my profile pic, when seen in thumbnail view, to the infamous Unabomber forensic sketch. To wit:

And Jeff then posted:

A discussion ensued:

Trismegista: I actually originally thought that you had posted him as your profile picture and thought, “damn, Becky is getting political in a way I completely don’t understand!” ; )

Becky: OMG! Look at that! Total coincidence, I swear. *whistles, walks to the post office*

Grace (the artist who created my portrait): You know, I thought abut that when I made it… but then I figured you wouldn’t mind being the unabomber if you were able to be stylish at it.

Becky: hilarious. i think i need to write a manifesto soon.

Belle: Honestly, every time I see your little picture…what do we call it on fb? anyhoodle, totally thought you were purposely trying to be like the Chic Unabomber.

Belle: Thumbnail, that’s what we call it

Trismegista: “The Chic Unabomber Manifesto” by the Lady Hambox. Coming to a 7-11 near you!

Trismegista: It comes with a lipstick that is also a tiny rocket launcher.

Jeff: Make it an ironic diatribe on the death of the US postal service….

Ellen: Holy Cow, and I gave you my mailing address….

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I believe IKEA wrote this email headline with a Superbowl party theme in mind, but I was taken with the words as-is.

Party Formation! I love parties, I love the idea of anything at a party that requires getting into formation, and I (secretly) love military group synched ritualizations.

Count me in, IKEA. I stand high and proud. If I could, that is — I threw my back out earlier this week, and not in any fun way. In fact, I believe my injury stems from the grim dreariness my life has taken on this month — my back was just crushed under the weight of (and I don’t use this awful phrase often) MEH.

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My friend Grace just started a project, creating a portrait a day for a year! My ego was quick with the Facebook comment button, so I got to be first!

You can see her portrait progress here. I am so proud of Grace; we’ve been friends for a couple years, and I’ve watched her blossom and thrive in all facets of her life. And what a talent.

The artwork was based on this photo by my friend Chris, taken last fall at Coney Island. He and I have been friends for considerably longer, and I am as proud and admiring of him as I am of Grace. And I love the fact that they kind of collaborated artistically without ever knowing each other!

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I am joining the good fight and taking my website offline tomorrow, Wednesday January 18, to protest the evil SOPA and PIPA acts being considered by congress. Find out more at AmericanCensorship.org. Won’t you consider darkening your website and joining the protest? You can also go to the Censorship site and spread the word via Facebook, Twitter; you can write a letter to involved parties; and more.

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I have been having fitful, weird, under-the-weather sleep patterns the past few days.

After the proverbial night of the toss and the turn, I woke at dawn and fixed a small snack to leave for the Elderly Relative, as it is done daily. I took a banana from the snack hiding place (don’t ask) and put it in the kitchen.

I then went back to bed, turning on the Marc Maron WTF podcast. After fitfully dozing off, I came to in time to hear the interviewee say

They don’t work that hard. It’s not that hard a gig. Every three weeks they get a week off. And then they get like two weeks off at Thanksgiving and two weeks off at Christmas and then they’re off for seven months.

In my groggy state, I sat both upright and said aloud: “Why do bananas get so much time off? They just exist to get eaten.”

Obviously, in my semiconscious state, I had applied bananas as the subject of the story I was hearing. Even when I fully woke and was getting ready for work, I couldn’t not think about those slacking bananas.

[Even typing it now, I still feel these weird remnants of whatever banana epic that stewed in my subconscious.]

For lunch, I had a piece of banana cream pie, and felt pleasure, if not a sense of closure.

The interviewee (if you are still with me and still care) was Dave Foley, former Kid in the Hall. He was not talking about bananas — he was relating a tale of how two of his KITH cohorts were lured to New York to work for Saturday Night Live. In the snippet I heard, he was talking about how the supposed grueling SNL work schedule was a myth.

Are SNL actors made of banana? Investigation: open!

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There is vastly more bad pelican jewelry than good pelican jewelry in the world.

Note to self: never tell anyone you’re interested in a simple, modern piece of pelican jewelry. People will hear “Becky collects pelicans!” and my world will fill up with cookie jars, puff-paint sweatshirts, and tote bags.

Many Americans who sell on eBay don’t/can’t distinguish between pelicans, flamingos, and toucans.

Okay, so pelicans can look goofy when their weird gullets are filled with fish and therefore open to caricature but they are also badass and extremely cool and where is the jewelry or art to reflect that?

Note to self 2: prepare for “pelican jewelry” comment spam.

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I was, no lie, thinking about Dazzle Camouflage today, just for the hell of it, because I am fascinated by all things that are like that.

Dazzle camouflage, also known as Razzle Dazzle or Dazzle painting, was a military camouflage paint scheme used on ships, [consisting] of a complex pattern of geometric shapes in contrasting colours, interrupting and intersecting each other… Dazzle did not conceal the ship but made it difficult for the enemy to estimate its type, size, speed and heading. The idea was to disrupt the visual rangefinders used for naval artillery. Its purpose was confusion rather than concealment.

Then, NO LIE, this VERY AFTERNOON, as I was crossing the parking lot with my coffee, I thought about what if the Dazzle technique was applied to clothes, or to makeup, or to hair? What would that look like? What would you use it for?

Then, ULTRA NO LIE, I come home to see this on BoingBoing:

CV Dazzle is a systematic approach to creating “dazzle” makeup and hair effects that fool computer vision systems.

I am a genius! Or something.

Let’s all pop our hips out and wiggle those fingers: RAZZLE DAZZLE!

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Tree in a tree, taken by my disappointing new camera. New resolution: stop buying cameras, learn to make the best of the ones I have

I am taking back the concept of the New Year Resolution, much like many people seemed to take back the sentiment “Merry Christmas” last year. So out it’s all in again. Apparently.

Why not take advantage of that fresh n shiny n new spirit that January 1 brings? Frankly, my relief that the holidays are over gives me an anything goes, almost giddy optimism. So I’m going to make resolution-checks that (hopefully and somewhat literally) my ass will cash.

Predictable Pledge of more movement, less eating of poison: I am pleased that I am still pretty fit since starting the process 1.5 years ago, but late fall/early winter marked a loosening of my health regimen (and a tightening of everything else.) A fantastic motivator is any time my picture is snapped while I’m on stage; the unflattering angle makes me look chinny and orby and not exactly in the best way.

No more Red Vines. I don’t like them, not even a little bit, and a ridiculous amount have been eaten by my mouth since they seem to have become the theatre’s edible mascot, always lurking in their giant tubs. This resolution follows past, successful  food bans: steak fries, eggplant, most soda.

Meditate more days than not this year. So far, so good.

Destroy all debt. It’s getting there, but I vow to consult with a professional to spank my finances into submission (that was unintentionally dirty).

Consciously work on reducing my road rage. I can feel the months being minused from my life as the stress chemicals squirt into my system with every “bleeping watch where you’re bleeping going, bleeperbleeper” I yowl.

Wish every person a good wish on Facebook on their birthday. That sounds lame but what the hell!

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No year in review here, boy. If there’s anyone who has no need to review 2011, it’s the Post a Day bunch! We’ve been reviewing our year, realtime, ad nauseam!

Instead, I shall show you a picture.

When I moved to Ventura the first time, I came from San Francisco after living there for 14 years, my entire adult life. I was shell shocked, lonely, weirded out. I had been living in Ventura a couple months (with my just my mother and aunt for company) before Brian came down to visit me for Christmas.

I complained to him about my isolation, and the low freak factor of my new home. He advised that I should seek out a theatre group to join, that’s where the interesting people would be. That night, we saw an ad in the newspaper, advertising an improv class. He insisted that we go.

We walked through the door of Ventura Improv Company (then known as Ventura Area TheatreSports) and I found my home. My very first improv was with Judy. It was an arms-through scene, set in a party, and had something to do with a vegetable tray.

That was on December 26, 1996. The picture above is of Brian, myself, and Judy, almost exactly 15 years later. Thanks, you two, for starting the process of changing the course of my life.

Here I am at the start of (yet! YET!) another new year, looking backward and forward at the same time, and liking what I see.

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It’s the Fourth Fifth Friday Challenge for December. My friend Paul and I, both posting daily in 2011, decided to give each other a job once a month to keep things spicy. In his words, “we want to push ourselves to do something more interesting than we might otherwise.”

And here is his challenge to me:

What has been the most unexpected thing you’ve discovered in doing this whole Post-A-Day rigamarole?

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As I sit down to write this at 11:36 pm, the first minute I’ve had to even think about this subject, I am quite surprised to experience a pang of sincere sadness that this Post a Day project is almost over. Right until now, I’ve perceived it as more irritating than not; I’ve often been bummed out by the day-after-day relentlessless; and have been kind of stuck wondering at the point of it all. Have I just spewed unnecessary content into the e-niverse, or is there something more that has been achieved? Good question! Unanswerable question!

Yet here I am, already missing it and feeling some anxiety at letting it go. I’m proud of myself for the discipline I’ve had to keep the schedule, proud of some of the writing I’ve done, happy I didn’t fuck up and walk away halfway through. Relieved, I expected. Sad, I did not.

Another thing is the deep connection I feel to Paul through this project. We’ve both been busy with other things and have only seen each other in person a handful of times this year, but I feel like our friendship has deepened considerably, which is surprising. We’re not collaborating (except for this monthly challenge, sort of), we don’t comment on each others’ posts, we have different approaches towards our writing and subject matter — yet the thought of us, both toiling daily on our little plots of internet land, makes me feel a pleasant camaraderie with him. Bravo, Tevis! *clink*

Whoa, it’s almost over. The ball, it’s about to drop!

- – – – -

Read Paul’s response to my challenge here (to come).

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