Off we go…

i should have known better than to drink whisky at a charity auction.  Just another Thursday night, and i was hanging out with Studley at a fundraiser for a local community outreach foundation.

Mostly, wanting to drop a little change in the till, peruse the raffle items, and encourage others to empty wallets, it seemed like a pretty brilliant idea.  i was also working the network of non-profits, kissing politicians buttbones and making connections to support my pet projects.

Four drinks into the evening, it was time for the live auction.  One of the items?  A chance to rappel down the side of a 30 story building during the annual autumn city festival.  Oh, THAT is a grand item for a woman with a paralyzing fear of heights!

My auction paddle (how DID i end up with an auction paddle, anyway?) jumped into the air and i started the bidding at $500.  Mercifully, i was outbid, and somehow found the good sense to put the paddle under my arse and stop bidding when it approached a thousand dollars.

Whew!  Crisis averted!

Momentarily, it turns out….

Not fifteen minutes later, there was another item that caught my attention.  “Fighter Pilot for a Day”.  Hello!  What’s that?  A chance to do ground school, and then sit right seat in a fast Italian turbo-prop acrobatic plane!  Well, that could be a good day.

Paddle flies into the air before i can stop it!  Bad auction paddle!  Stop that!

It was a bit of a frenzy, as there was a gentleman across the room who seemed fairly intent on indulging his testosterone on a day in the wild blue yonder.

What?  Me?  i won?

Oh, shit…. Yeah.  How’d that happen?  Well… ummm…. (heh, heh) It’s for charity, right?

Air Combat

So it’s on.  Still to be scheduled, but i’m going to do this.  Likely sometime this summer, i am going to put on a flight suit*, do a little bit of training, and launch myself into the sky to do a little formation flying, dogfighting, and underwear soiling.


This was posted on the book of faces later that night.  The next day at the office, i passed a friend in the hallway who had seen it.  He stopped me, shaking his head.

Bill:  You’re nuts, you know that?

daisyfae:  What?  i just bought a “Fighter Pilot for a Day”.  What’s the big deal?

Bill:  Have you figured out what you’re going to do with him yet?


i’ll admit, this is a little scary.  When i went to bed that night i stayed awake awhile, wondering if i could really suck it up, sit right seat in a very fast, acrobatic plane, and set myself up to pull up to 6Gs…

The next morning, i woke up with a very different thought.  Sure, i’m afraid of dying.  But i’m more afraid of not living.  Bring it…


* i will be wearing a substantial sanitary undergarment under my Muy Macho flight suit.  Video is taken in the cockpit.  It may be an hour of me screaming…

“What the Fuck Were We Thinking?” – Part 896

As i careened into the concrete wall, adjacent to the carpeted area at the local skating rink on a Wednesday night, i looked at Studley* and asked “What the fuck were we thinking?  Seriously?”

He sat on the bench, stretching out his calves, and shins, and arches, and feet, and thighs and said “I have no fucking idea”.

We stood up, and launched our middle-aged carcasses back out onto the hard wood floor for another few counter-clockwise circuits.  Dodging the little kids.  Being swooped by the douchebags more skilled skate-dancers.

On our next rest break…

daisyfae: Is it worth it?  Really?  Is this the stupidest thing we’ve ever done?

Studley [deep in thought]:  …

daisyfae:  We’re going to die!  Is this the worst one yet?

Studley: We’ve said this before.  I’m trying to remember when…

We went back after it.  Around and around.  Stiff of lips, and stiff of legs.  All in – at least for tonight.  Until we had to take another break, because the DJ had just turned down the ambient lights, and cranked up the moving disco lights, which had an unexpected effect on our stability and balance.

pic found here

“Do or do not.  There is no try.”

Fuck you, Yoda.  Now, how about using that Jedi-mind-trick-thingie to take down that dancing, skater, douchebucket who just buzzed past me?”


* For new readers, Studley McRocklegs is the call sign of my Statistically Significant Other, S.S.O.  My dive buddy, adventure buddy, and fellow “making up for lost time” mid-life crisis partner.

And now for something completely different…

As if attempting to learn to ski, ride horseback, motorcycle and SCUBA dive in my late 40’s weren’t enough, the early 50’s beckon…

Those are indeed roller skates on my feet.  In my kitchen.  Attempting to pour a vodka tonic while navigating around 100 pounds of deeply confused dog meat.

Like Roller Girl from Boogie Nights, i believe the way to master this particular feat is to keep them ON my feet for as many hours as possible each day.

It will not be an option at the office.  At least not until i get my wheels more solidly underneath my crazed – and soon to be very bruised – ass.

Stay tuned, folks.  Film at 11…

one week…

And away we go…


Front (L-R): daisyfae and her ginormous thighs, Her Royal Highness – Queen Can’tFuckingDance, Adorableness Personified
Back (L-R): Great Ass-Can’t ActForShit, Deliciousness InLeather, Good Voice-Can’tActForShit, GotIt Goin’On

It’s a funny show.  We’ll put butts in seats.  i can’t wait until 6:00 PM, Sunday, 27 September.  The next time i need to feed my ego?  There are MUCH easier ways to do it… fuckthishit.

when your best isn’t good enough*

Auditioned for my first show in almost two years.  One that i’d love to do… have wanted to do for over a year.

Ouch.  i was nervous as hell.  Didn’t belt the vocal piece the way i’ve practiced it… but it was ok.  Fuck.  Why couldn’t i do my audition in the car?  i sing better when i’m driving.  Friends said i nailed it but i know i had more.  Readings were ok – but then i’ve never been very good with the cold reading shit.  It’s mostly a musical show, and the vocal piece was pretty fucking important.

About 45 minutes into auditions, She showed up.  i’d heard She wasn’t going to do it.  i’ve worked with Her before.  i sort of like Her.  She did it as a toss off.  Breezed in late, didn’t fill out the audition form, clearly wasn’t trying.  Found out later that She’d auditioned for another show She’d prefer to do.  Wasn’t really paying attention and even read the wrong character at one point.  Not. Fucking. Trying.

She was simply better than i was.  Not a god damned thing i can do about that… 

So if there’s a fucking god – doubtful, by the way – then She’ll be cast in her preferred show and i’ll have a shot at being “First Loser” and get the part i want…

i hate theater.  i hate it with all my heart and soul.  Unlike the world of engineering, there is no logic – it’s all about putting it out there, everything resting on a few moments in the spotlight.  Even if i’d nailed the vocals, it wouldn’t have been enough.  It is simply beyond my control.  i am not the best person for the role.  If i were the director, it would be a no brainer. 

All i can do for the next few days is wait.  And hope.  And hope some more.  And pray to a god i don’t believe in that theater karma will put her in the role she desires, and i can have a shot at the one i want.

fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck.

god, i hate theater. 

Moving on already.  Preparing myself for the next audition in October. Preparing myself to work backstage on a show that i love… maybe i’ll be in the band or something.  i’ll get to watch someone better do something that i will convince myself i couldn’t do very well anyway.  Yeah.  i’ve never carried a leading role before.  Probably would have been too much for me anyway…

Being grateful that i have a very nice “day job” that pays the bills and allows me this folly…

UPDATE:  i was offered, and accepted, a role in the show – not the dream role, but something festive and fun.  It’s an ensemble show, so there’s fun to be had – i’ll be on stage a good bit, and get some of the juiciest lines…  Oh, and for more ego-bashing fun?  She was offered the role in the other show, but changed Her mind… was talked into taking the role She didn’t seem to want much…. (sigh)… and this has left the other director scrambling a bit to re-cast his show.  It’ll be a better show with Her in it…  And away we go…


* This is not a gratuitous plea for encouraging words, folks.  Please.  Not necessary.  It’s just an excerpt from an e-mail i sent around 1 am.  A glimpse into a brain after an audition gone “Meh”…  i’m fine.  Not cutting myself or anything like that… It’s just a peek behind the powder room door, at a tired, half-drunken ego that has just survived a good, healthy bashing.  Humility.  Not always a bad thing…


Another holiday.  Another addition to the “what the fuck was i thinking?” file…

Last night, it was a “Resolution Run”.  On the bright side?  It was only 5k.  The Turkey Trot was 5 miles.   The down side?  It was 25 degrees, dark and windy.  But i finished.  And that was the point….  Will be doing 5k’s throughout the year to track my progress – and force me to stay with the training.

During the past 12 months, i’ve sneakily gained back 20+ pounds, after having lost over 60 a few years ago.  Oh, no i didn’t….. Oh, yes i did….  It’s coming off.  Not a new year resolution.  Resolve.  i’m out of “fat clothes”.  i hate shopping.  Done. 

But one must work into this gently.  After the run, had friends over for billiards and booze – and discovered a new liquid taste treat:  Chocolate Peppermint-tinis – white chocolate liqueur, peppermint schnapps and a good portion of vanilla vodka.  Ouch.  Goes down like candy…  Did i say “ouch”?  Chick drinks are the fucking antichrist.

Last year?  i danced myself silly at a house party.  All of the sweat, just as many muscle aches – but no headache since i generally don’t drink much when i’m dancing.  Will need to keep “dancing” on my cross training plan.  It works.

It was also a year ago when i launched “Trailer Park Refugee”.  i’m not done telling the stories that i need to hoark up – not by a long shot. With my pesky Sesame Street attention span, i’ve wandered off a bit…. 

When i wrote posts about the family, it smoked me emotionally – the one about my eternally bitter mother took a full week to shake off.  To maintain the writing habit, i started posting random neural firings, theater happenings, conversations with my kids, observations about my geek workforce…. 

Then, you all showed up, started reading this crap, commenting and providing resonance and an odd sort of validation.  That was a bonus.  Unexpected and delightful…  Thank you.  To those who comment, and those who lurk…

Now, back to my regularly scheduled…. nap….

Shhhh.... You're breathing much too loudly...

Shhhh.... You're breathing much too loudly...

Cold turkey

Filed again under “what the fuck was i thinking?”…

For the past 30 years a local village has a Thanksgiving Day “Turkey Trot”.  Five miles.  Not five “K”, but five “miles”.  Advertised as a “flat, fast course”, typically 6,000 people show up to run, walk, push strollers and drink coffee at 8:00 Thanksgiving morning.  Costume contest to get things rolling, and the mayor himself sings the national anthem… Folksy enough to make me want to wear plaid and buy firearms.

Last year i did it, without much pain and suffering.  i’d completed my first half-marathon just a month before, and with the best of intentions of continuing my training through the winter, i signed up for the five miler.  Right.  Other than a few training runs over the winter, and a clydesdale-esque performance at a Colon Run in March, i haven’t done much with it.  My ass turned to lead*.

Managed to maintain a reasonable degree of fitness over the summer with a regular biking program, but once again i’ve “lumped up” like so much leftover gravy.  Re-committing to a gentle training program a few weeks back, i decided to hit the Turkey Trot. 

At least it wasn’t raining.  But it was 24 F at 7:30 yesterday morning. Did i mention that this is filed under “what the fuck was i thinking?” 

These events drive home the painful point: some of us are truly built for comfort, rather than speed.  The “elite” runners (who start the race from the “Elite Runner Corral”) finished in about 30 minutes.  Yes.  That’s 5 minute miles.  Bastards.  We hate them.  Last year?  i used the “run/walk” technique – ran 4 minutes, walked 1 minute.  This year?  Swap that… and add 16 minutes to my overall time.  Ye-owch**. 

Following a 3 hour recovery nap, it was off to dinner with friends***.  i ate.  a lot.  Fortunately my dessert was a massive failure, or i’d have eaten more.  Dragged myself to the car like an engorged tick, came home and passed out… Leaving a slug-trail of gravy from the door all the way to my bed. 

So i try again.  Another re-commit.  Will attempt to stay with it… This time have adopted a couple of training buddies to help prod, poke and push me out from under the covers.  i’ll grow to hate them, no doubt.

Eat me

Eat me

sourced from

* “Ass to lead”?  Hmmm… if i could find an alchemist to convert the lead to gold i’d be set…

** There’s one less darvocet in the “emergency fund” arsenal…

*** Funny how a holiday spent with friends is SO MUCH LESS STRESSFUL than the ones i spend with extended family.  The Trailer Park arrives here on Saturday for a holiday gathering.  i am honestly looking forward to it, though.  But will likely need emergency therapy immediately after the event…