Tag Archives: thoughts

Name of the Game

I’m going to be starting a new project with the theatre company I work for soon.

So what? I hear you asking. Weeeeeelllll…….One of the cast members has my last name!

So? People have the same last name all the time. There are so many people in the world of course names will repeat……

And I say….shut up. Yeah, take that.

Anybut, it isn’t just the fact he has the same last name as me, but he’s from San Diego….I was born in San Diego…..could he be a long lost family member my family cast out in shame?

Nah, he’s probably not related at all. Plus, I won’t bring it up to him if he doesn’t bring it up to me…..curse my shyness and anxiety!!!


I need to write this down.

Okay, I’m 30 years old (as of the writing of this post) and I’d like to think I’m pretty up to date on most slang (obviously NOT all).

But we need to talk about this one word: Stans.

I put off actually looking up this word because I knew it was a new word for fan (like completely substituting the word), but I didn’t understand why? Why was this word chosen to be the new word for fan?

From my understanding it’s another word for obsessed fans. Okay. Fine. But what bothers me is that apparently the origination of this word is from the Eminem song “Stan”……..

I have a problem with this. That song IS about an obsessed fan. Fair. BUT! It’s not something to be celebrated. And I know people are thinking “It’s just a word, it’s not a big deal. Don’t be overdramatic.”

Well, shoot, you’re right. I’m overreacting in my old age. (This is sarcasm, BTW)

It’s perfectly normal to idolize your heroes and celebrities. I do, too. That’s not the issue. The issue is the subject matter of the song being taken lightly or celebrated as normal. Eminem wrote that song for a specific reason, to warn against being a Stan, to warn against becoming too blinded by your idols and your love for them…to becoming too OBSESSED.

Here’s two sections from the song I think are important. The first bit is from the perspective of Stan:

“And all I wanted was a lousy letter or a call
I hope you know I ripped all of your pictures off the wall
I love you Slim, we coulda been together, think about it
You ruined it now, I hope you can’t sleep and you dream about it
And when you dream I hope you can’t sleep and you scream about it
I hope your conscience eats at you and you can’t breathe without me”

This bit is from the perspective of Eminem:

“Before you hurt yourself, I think that you’ll be doin’ just fine
If you relax a little, I’m glad I inspire you but Stan
Why are you so mad? Try to understand, that I do want you as a fan
I just don’t want you to do some crazy shit

I kept out the part where Stan talks about his pregnant girlfriend in the trunk of the car and his driving while drunk. Spoilers: Stan drives the car off a bridge killing himself and his pregnant girlfriend. Why? Because Eminem didn’t give his fan enough attention. Because Stan was obsessed with Eminem.

I was in middle school when this song came out and like everyone my age, I loved this song (against my parents’ wishes of course). I was an Eminem fan. For those of you surprised by this, shame on you. I like all genres of music.

Did I truly understand what the song was about? A little, but it was the time before social media. Obsessive fans existed, but weren’t as celebrated/public as they are now. Also, I was eleven so even if I knew every word to the song, it didn’t really click in my brain the truth of it.

It wasn’t as easy to stalk your idols back then (back then? HAH). It wasn’t as easy to know every little detail about your idols.


Social media has allowed fans to get closer than ever to their idols, their heroes, or the people who inspire them. I’M NOT KNOCKING SOCIAL MEDIA…..yet. But this new idea of ravenous fans feeling…and I HATE using this word…entitled to the subject of their love is becoming dangerous.

But there have always been ravenous fans. That’s not something new. Remember Beatlemania? Boy bands during the early 2000s? Bieber Fever?

Okay, that last one is considered part of the social media machine. Also, how dare you assume I was alive during Beatlemania.

But does that excuse the behavior of those fans? No. Beatlemania was crazy, sure, but I feel like…the more accessible celebrities (and yes, I’m including social media celebrities in this, too) become the more entitlement fans feel.

Celebrating being a “Stan” is so alien to me. Mostly because it’s coming from a generation where the song wasn’t new, wasn’t popular (not to say it isn’t popular now, but it isn’t new). I don’t think they truly understand what it means, the warnings in the song.

And maybe they do! I don’t know. I know none of my close friends know the term, but they remember that song. If nothing else, they remember the music video which if you haven’t seen it…see it. It’s rough.

Okay, that’s the end of my rant. My old person rant….ha.

Say My Name Again

Do you ever hear your name and just think…ugh.

I don’t mean when people you know say your name or your family call you. I’m talking about when you hear your name on TV or maybe your favorite celebrity says your name.

Does that make sense? Am I making sense? Probably not….

I mean, personally, I kind of don’t like the sound of my name. Full or nickname. I kind of like going through life with people not saying my name. When someone calls me by my name I kind of get a little slap back to reality like “oh, yeah, that is my name”. It almost kind of resets that moment in time.

It’s not that I don’t like my name….I do….I just don’t like the sound of it. I’ll be watching videos on YouTube or binging something on Netflix/Hulu when all of the sudden someone says my name. My immediate reaction is: “Huh, that’s what it would sound like if that person was talking to me.” My second reaction is: “Ugh, those sounds are weird together.”


It’s kind of how I can’t relate to characters with my name. I immediately get uncomfortable watching cause I keep cringing when other characters say the name.

Course, maybe it’s also because my name is so close sounding to other names. There’s constant confusion in the real world. At my work, there’s a guy with a French name (but he’s from Canada) and when people say it fast it sounds like my name.

I also don’t like my coworkers calling me by my full first name. It sounds so………grown up…I mean, I’m grown up, but it sounds too grown up.



Anybut, maybe I’m just a weirdo who doesn’t like the sound of my name. But I also like my name. Oh well.

Ding Dong Damn It

The return of the self censor.

I got a little frustrated with something I was working on the other day and this gem slipped out of my mouth:

Ding Dong Damn It.

My dad happened to overhear me yell this and felt it necessary to inform me that it was a “Girl Curse”.

And I thought to myself…why?

Because it sounded cute? Because no man would be caught dead saying “ding dong”? Because I, a girl, said it?

If I’d said my usual curse would that have been a boy curse? (for those wondering my usual curse is Mother F***er God Damn It!!)

Look, I’m all for equality. Which means I’ll curse like a boy whenever I want. But I can’t control my brain when it decides, oh no this is the time to censor ourselves. I DIDN’T EVEN REALLY CENSOR MYSELF! I STILL SAID DAMN, DAMMIT!!

Anybut, just thought I’d share this.

Cause the other post I started writing (and left as a draft) was too much of a downer. Not that you’ll ever see it/I haven’t decided if I’ll ever post it.

THAT House Pt. 1

Is it an unwritten rule that every neighborhood has to have THAT house?

The enigma house. The house everyone has a nickname for or the house with a crazy urban legend story that really isn’t that crazy, but then there’s the house where the urban legend turns out to be true.

I live in California now, but I also lived in two different neighborhoods in Indiana. Everywhere I’ve lived there have been THAT house(s?). I can’t cover all of them in one post so this will become a series. Between other posts of course.

But which house to start with? There are so many options…

…I know what house to start with.

And it’s kind of cheating because I didn’t live in the neighborhood of this house, but EVERYONE at my school knew about this house.

It had three different names, depending on how old or innocent you were. The first name was the ugly house. Not very descriptive, but if a kid in your class asked about the ugly house you knew exactly what house they were talking about. (I personally called it the dolphin house, which I will explain later).

Its second name? The pimp house.


Have you let that name roll around in your brain? Good. What would you imagine a house middle school to high school aged children called the pimp house (or ugly house) looked like?

Well, you’re wrong….unless you’re from Indiana….then you know EXACTLY what the house I’m talking about looks like.

And it’s not a joke. The guy who owned the house was a pimp (at one time, then he got into “construction” uh-huh sure)! Don’t believe me? Here’s the Daily Mail (yes, even ENGLAND knew about the pimp house or “mansion” as they call it) talking about it! But for a more detailed (and more photographic) article about the house click here. (This will take you to an IndyStar article)

I could go into its history but I could never do it justice like the articles above.

Wait, you said there were three names. What’s the third one?

……the naked house. Yes, us innocent children called it, a PIMP house, the naked house. For those of you not connecting the dots…first off, congratulations on your innocence (I lost that long ago…not because of the pimp house). The story (because of course no one knew who actually saw this happen so it became a story) is that you could see naked women walking through the house all the time.

For reference here is a photo of the house (this was all we ever saw of the infamous building):


And now you see why I called it the dolphin house. That fountain has a number of dolphins on it. Oh, and also how easy it would’ve been for anyone to see a naked woman walking past those huge windows. ANYBUT!

This house became legendary to my middle and high schools which were both located only a measly (and I shit you not!) 6 MINUTES AWAY!!

This house was 3 miles from middle school and high school students and it was legen…wait for it….DARY!!!



P.S. – I know this house had its social media moment back in 2017 and it thrilled me. This secret that was a tall tale among me and my peers finally got the attention it deserved. HOWEVER! There is nothing like being part of the generation (before social media) who passed on the stories of the ugly, naked, (dolphin) pimp house.

P.P.S – It’s still for sale if anyone’s interested. And it’s been lowered from $1.7 million to just under $1 million. A real steal.

P.P.P.S – there was also a period of time when everyone thought the owner of the house was a drug lord or mafia boss because nothing exciting ever happens in Indiana…at least, not back then. It was actually a little disappointing when we finally learned for a fact it was a former pimp who lived there…but only a little.

PB & Torture Part 2

So I still haven’t found any cartoon that resembles the one from my previous post on this topic (check it out here if you missed it).

BUT I remembered another Got Milk? commercial that always kind of rubbed me the wrong way.

It’s a scene of a family in the hospital and the father tells his daughter to share a cookie with the man in another hospital bed. The man is in a full body cast.

The daughter goes over to the man and shoves a cookie in his mouth. He munches happily, but the family starts pouring milk in glasses and they don’t offer any to the full body cast guy.

He’s trying to get their attention and bouncing around, but they ignore him.


How rude to give someone food and not offer a drink after!

—          —          —

Alright UPDATE: I just took a minute to look up the commercial with the hospital and got sucked down a rabbit hole of old Got Milk commercials and I have to get this off my chest.

The Oreo commercial was the best. I don’t know why, but it made me laugh…and scare my sleeping cat, but because of the laughter. Look it up. I don’t want to take anything away from its beauty.

PB & Torture

I have this very vivid memory of a cartoon character eating a peanut butter sandwich and another character with a glass of milk.

This other character refuses to give the first character the glass of milk unless the first character answers a question? Or does something for him? I can’t remember the details.


I REMEMBER this scene sooooo vividly, but I can’t find it!

This also reminded me of the old Got Milk? commercial with the guy enjoying his sandwich and then getting a phone call to win money with the correct answer to a question. But the caller can’t understand him because of the peanut butter sandwich in his mouth and he’s OUT OF MILK!!!*

* I did find this commercial and the guy was an Alexander Hamilton historian? Fan? Something, but the question was who shot Alexander Hamilton. The answer of course being Aaron Burr. (There’s a great remake of the commercial with Leslie Odom, Jr. who played Aaron Burr in the musical Hamilton. You should check it out)

Anybut, I bring this up A) because I’m sitting here eating peanut butter and B) those kinds of things always upset me as a kid. I always hated a character (whether good or even bad) making that pathetic sound. You know the awww sound that’s the pitch of a mewling kitten or whining puppy.

P.S. – If anyone knows what that cartoon scene is from…PLEASE RELEASE ME FROM THIS NIGHTMARE!



I don’t have a fun name for this mind vomit.

Insomnia runs in my family…I think…or it does starting with my mother and me…sure. Anybut, here I am at 1:28 am writing a nonsensical observation on insomnia.

It got me thinking about that article that came out some time ago (when, I have no idea, I didn’t really pay that much attention when said article came out). The article was about how people in olden times (this phrase was standing in for the actual time period the article mentioned, but as I wrote it I realized I won’t be doing research to find this article…so there) how people in olden times used to sleep for like fours hours, wake up in the middle of the night, do some chores or something else productive, and then go back to sleep until they woke up for the day.

What does this have to do with my insomnia? Nothing really, but I always think about that article. I wonder if my insomnia is due to my past life as an olden time person bleeding into my now life. Like the olden times person inside of me is wanting to only sleep four hours then do productive work, but unfortunately the present me would rather watch stupid videos on YouTube or binge watch the same shows over and over on Hulu or Netflix.

The opposing forces fighting inside making it impossible for me to sleep. Causing my insomnia.

…Or maybe it’s my anxiety. Yeah, that sounds more correct.


I got a recipe box for Christmas with brand new recipe cards and I took some time during a rainy day to start filling it/copy down the recipes in my grandmother’s old recipe box.

Before I continue I need to make one thing very clear…I’m not a cook. I’m not a baker. I’ve only made food three times for my friends total…and that was mostly because of guilt for always bringing cheese plates or fruit trays to parties. I’ve helped my friends cook, but I need them to walk me through every step. I didn’t even know how to properly cut up a bell pepper (apparently there’s a specific way to do it?!).

Now, continuing the story:

While I was working on my…30th card the word coconut had been coming up a lot. Now some of these cards I was copying from are OLD. I mean 40+ years old. Anyways, I noticed coconut occasionally was spelled cocoAnut.

This got my stupid brain thinking, a dangerous thing to happen. I called my mom and asked her, “Do they call coconuts, coconuts because when they discovered them, people thought they were like cocoa beans, but clearly a nut so they called them cocoanuts?”

She paused. Sighed, you know the sigh. It’s the Am I really having this conversation right now? sigh. Then she answered, not very enthusiastically I might add, “I don’t know. I wasn’t there when they decided that.”

Fair. But then why do people constantly misspell it cocoanut?

And before any of you get smart with me and try to explain the linguistics mumbo-jumbo, realize it won’t work. I’ve created this version of history in my head where the first explorers or whoever found a palm tree and thought “Wow! Look at the size of that cocoa bean! We could make sooooo much chocolate out of that sucker!” Then when they cracked it open to see the white coconut flesh inside and got soaked from the coconut milk they deflated and were really disappointed and sad. I mean could you imagine a cocoa bean the size of a coconut? That would be the best chocolate ever…

Fart Knuckle

Do you ever censor yourself? There’s no real need to, but for some reason you catch yourself and choose not to say one of the many words society shudders?

The “clutch-your-pearls” words, if you will?

I think one of my favorites that I use is “fart knuckle”. I mean, what the hell is a fart knuckle? Is it someone punching a fart? Is it farting on your knuckle before punching someone? I DON’T KNOW!

But I love saying it instead of the dreaded F-word.

The other thing I love about my own censorship is I can’t really tell you some of the other ones. They happen naturally. Though I do remember tending to say son of a >insert random noun<. For example son of a Rasputin. Why Rasputin? WHO KNOWS!

Of course, I’m not saying I don’t partake in the good ol’ swear off now and then, but sometimes my brain decides we’re going to be family friendly and the strangest thing pops out of my mouth.

Like fart knuckle.