I was posting about geeky stuff here before Geek Eccentric recruited me.

It’s been a while since I blogged about anything embarrassing, so here we go.

I think I’ve mentioned that I have an overactive imagination and that I invent imaginary bands. That’s because I don’t believe that my inability to read music/write songs/play an instrument should keep me from feeling like a rock star. This system works well. I recruit other people who can’t play, and we have imaginary rehearsals, imaginary tours, with imaginary gigs at imaginary venues.

Does anybody else do this? Because I put a lot of mental energy into my longest-running project, Sister Transistor, an imaginary all-girl rock band.

Sister Transistor boasts a mixture of real and imaginary band members and a set list of covers which we pretend are original songs. We have lots of pretend drama: Our imaginary bass player, Pangaea is always threatening to quit and join the eco-terrorists who bomb Japanese whaling boats, while our pretend lead guitarist, Beth Hammerdown, recently attracted attention when she became a spokesperson for the Tea Party. It’s an imaginary public relations nightmare.

The whole band thing is an elaborate fantasy that’s been constructed, bit by bit, over the past three or four years. Until recently we were happy without an imaginary album, but since I was learning Photoshop this summer, I decided to use our debut album cover as my project.

Below are my top three album covers.

Album 3: I think scotch and cookies really captures the spirit of Sister Transistor.

Album 2: I recruited my husband as baker and photographer for this one. Pity the man.

Album 3: This might be my favorite. Sorry for eating with my mouth open.

UPDATE: I put my faux album cover on a tee shirt! And I will totally order it and wear it because no one will know who this band is, and that will make me the coolest kid on the block. I know. It takes a special kind of mental illness to make merch for an imaginary band. Actually, it takes a special kind of mental illness to make merch for a blog, but if the Bloggess can do it, so can I.

As a sixteen-year-old, this was terrifying to me.

I mentioned a couple of days ago that I’m concerned about the Fairfield University student reading that’s happening this evening.

It’ll most definitely go well, but I’m gonna worry a little anyhow, ’cause that’s how I roll. I’m a world-class fretter. I worry about ridiculous things.

Here’s an example. When I was a teenager, I thought the Immaculate Conception was the most terrifying thing in the world. Read more

 

It's so good for a marriage when both partners share a common goal, isn't it?

 

I finally got to see the Patrick Stewart Macbeth this week. On Monday, I watched it with a friend, who was nice enough to record it and invite me over. We were very excited about this. Being the fancy ladies we are, we snacked on raspberry wine, cheese and crackers while watching Sir Patrick Stewart usurp the throne of Scotland. And while we were watching, there was a thunderstorm. How awesome is that? I felt like we were on a blasted heath! Well, if blasted heaths had wine and cheese and crackers, that is.

In fact, our plans for Monday were  doubly awesome, because our husbands have band practice at my friend’s  house on Mondays. So the plan was rehearsal/football game for them, Shakespeare for us.

Seemed like a good strategy too, but there were a few bumps in the road.

The boys were asked to keep it down, and they did. For a while. Read more

For a while, I was an enthusiastic gamer. I  blogged and reviewed video games on a gaming site and for a (very) short while, freelanced for 1up.com. But then I gave up gaming in favor of getting my life back (I tend to fall into video games like bad guys in Star Wars fall into sarlac pits) and lately, the only games I’ve been playing are Facebook’s Scrabble and Bejeweled. Then, last week, a friend of mine mentioned  this game on Facebook and, since it was free, I thought I’d give it a try. But only for a week. That was last Wednesday.

It’s called Mindbloom, and it’s a cross between the casual games of the Internet (think Bejeweled or Farmville) and the self-help movement (think vision boards and movies like The Secret.)

It’s really not so much a game as it is is a fancy to-do list, visualized as a tree. You start with three branches, each of which represents an area of your life important to you: Finances, Relationships, Career, whatever. In each of those areas, you create small, scheduled to-do lists. Mine are “write 500 words every day,” “yoga every other day,” “share a smile with a stranger every day” and “one to two hours of project every day.”

I check them off if I did them, and I get points for doing that. Sounds dull, right? That’s because it is.

Until earlier this week, I was ready to quit, actually. But then I realized something: It’s working. It’s seriously, honestly working. I’m getting much more work done. I’m working out regularly. I’m trying to be nice to be people, and I’m more or less succeeding.

Why does it work for me? I’m a list-maker. I make to-do lists all the time, in my head, on the backs of envelopes, on my computer’s Stickies program. But I rarely get through the lists, because I lose them, and there’s no accountability. Now here’s this game that awards me points for checking off my to-do list.

Thus far, the rewards are really unexciting – new backgrounds, new music – but the game does offer motivation:  If you don’t do something on your list for a while, your tree starts to die.  That happened to me a few days ago, when I skipped yoga two days in a row and didn’t make my 500 words over the weekend. My tree started to turn brown. Do you know how alarming it is to watch a tree labeled “My Life” begin to wither?

I don’t have any friends on Mindbloom yet, so I don’t know anything about the social networking/support aspect of the game, but for me, so far, Mindbloom offers more stick and less carrot as encouragement for ticking off my goals. Yet, completion of the goals is – and should be – encouragement enough.

After nursing my tree back from the brink of death to full greenness – and after checking off a lot of the items on my to-do list – I’m hooked. I do feel a little odd about using the Internet to complete my life’s small goals – I feel like Big Brother somehow is reading my list of things to do – but I can’t complain, because hey, I’m completing my tasks.

I finally saw the new Star Trek film.

Actually, what I should say is this: I finally saw the 2009 Star Trek film. (Few movies are truly new by the time I clap eyes on them.) So the vitriol I’m about to spew here is outdated, but still, I can’t contain myself. Because that film was NOT Star Trek.

Yes, it had Kirk, Spock, Bones, Uhura, Scotty, and the rest of the gang. Yes, it had the Starship Enterprise, primary-hued uniforms and phasers set to stun. And it had bad guys and lots and lots of lovely explosions, but that’s where the similarities end, people. It was not Star Trek. It was more like being on a Star Trek-themed ride at Universal Studios.

And the thing was, I actually let down my guard for this film. And for a while, I enjoyed it.

This was me at the start of the film:

This was me after 30 minutes of Starfleet Academy, Planet Vulcan, Captain Pike and other assorted fan service:

And this was me maybe 20 minutes after that:

Why? Well, since there are spoilers in this rant, I will tell you why after the jump.

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