Did you miss me?

Hi,

I know it's been a while.  Lots of things have happened for me, for you, we should discuss it all.

But not here, lets go someplace ....better.  Like my new blog!  www.sempercasus.com

I know, its a big word and its in a different language ( The blog name, not the whole blog (It means "Always an Adventure" in Latin)).  I combined my two blogs into this one.  The theatre will still be there, the adventures will still be there and hopefully, so will you.

So join me won't you?

Thanks! :)

EM

Say What? - A Work Adventure

Work is always an adventure…yes?  Anyone that has a job has crazy stories about what misadventures happen while they count down to Friday. 

In my job I do a lot of hiring, which means that I have to do a lot of interviewing.  I am curious about people (my mother calls it nosy), I like to talk and interviewing allows me an opportunity to indulge both of these at one time.  Sounds good.

I know that interviewing is a stressful situation and I have been on an interview once or twice myself, so I know how nerve wracking this situation can be for job seekers.  Every once in a while I am surprised by the things that are said during the interviews.  Whether they were blurted out unintentionally or not, these are a few of the comments that were three comments said to me that have stuck with me.  There are more, as I’ve had to interview people off and on for the last 7 years, but these three make me giggle every time.

“I was so happy when I was a fish”- When I asked this person what their favorite job from their resume was, this was their answer.  I scanned this resume quite a bit and could never find anything that said they were a fish.  So when I inquired about when/where they were fish-ified, they replied in a parade they were in, but that it was not on the resume.

“elle a commencé à parler français fo aucune raison” – Did you understand that?  Good, cause neither did I.  I loved this interview because this candidate was so nice and really enthusiastic.  They were from the U.S., English was their first language and they had spent a year in France for studying abroad at some point.  Then, with no warning, in the middle of answering a question, they switched from English to French for a few sentences, and then back into English like nothing had happened.  They best part was that when I asked them to tell me what they had said, because they had spoken French for a few moments, the answer was an indignant “I did not.” 

“You would be so cute if you dyed your hair” – This came out at the end of the interview when I ask if the interviewee has any additional questions, comments or concerns.  This person was incredibly nervous and I thought this was such a cute thing to say, even though it doesn’t sound that way.  This person had a very cool hair color and I would have loved to have it myself.  I choose to believe that they were referring to a more edgy hair color than that my hair didn’t look good. (I hope)

Do you have any funny stories for your adventure that you call your work day?  If so, I would love to hear about them!

Why do I do this to myself?

You may have heard that I have a habit of doing stupid things.  In fact, this whole blog is dedicated to the silly and stupid situations I manage to get myself into.  And this one is no exception...

So, I heard about this audition a little over a month ago and thought that maybe I should go.

Never mind that I haven't performed in a full show in over 11 years, or that I didn't know any of the songs, any audition songs, can't dance, and had about 1 day to get anything ready for the audition.  It still seemed like an adventure that I should go on, if for no other reason than because of how badly it could go.

Which is how I ended up going to this audition on the last day of auditions, in the very last audition slot and with a song that I knew, but that I had never heard played on the piano.  So I had no idea if the key that the music was in was a key I could sing or not.  Cause really, preparation, whats that?

The day of the audition I had milk with breakfast (A no no), I warmed up by singing along with the radio at the top of my lungs and got lost on my way to the theater.

As I walked in, I had no resume, no head shot and had to tell them I had no idea what the music I was holding sounded like on the piano, since I don't own a piano.

I audition and go on my merry way.

The next day I get called back for a call back.  Right before the call backs I get super sick.  I have to call to tell them I can't make it and the part goes to someone else.

Fast forward to last week.....

I get a call from the theater.  The person they cast is unable to fulfill the role and would I be interested in filling it?

So now I have a month to step into the role, learn the lines, choreography and the music for this show.  Everyone is off book and ready for fine tuning...I have had the script for 48 hours.

This can only end badly, right?

Lesson learned:

My husband should have bought me a piano. (My husband thinks this is not an actual lesson learned, but that just makes it obvious he needs to learn this lesson).

This theater was clearly desperate. (if your hopes rest on my shoulders....my the gods help you, clearly you are in trouble)

Don't tempt fate! (those three witches will get you every time!)

A Sweet Escapade

Here is a post written by the ever awesome Snarky Rachel (aka Bella Rachel in previous posts)  I told her a story about something that knocked me off my feet a bit.  So what did she do?

She wrote it on my blog as me, knowing that I never would have posted it on my own.  So here is Snarky Rachel telling you a story about what happened to me from my point of view.  This is how all blogs are written, right?

I know that usually this blog is dedicated to the crazy things that happen to me and to my friends that are in my near vicinity. But, today, something so out of the ordinary happened to me that was incredibly sweet and unexpected and SnarkyRachel has forced me to write about it.

I came home late from work today, showered and then my husband and I decided that we would like pizza for dinner. I ordered pizza from our usual place and went casually about my business. Now, I will say that I consider myself a good tipper. I feel like delivering pizza must absolutely suck and I do my best to counteract that as much as I can. I digress.

Once the pizza was delivered I paid, tipped, took the pizza, and started to go inside with my food. The delivery guy stopped me, saying “Wait, I wanted to tell  you something.”

“Yes?” I replied, preparing myself for the latest pizza promotion.

Stuttering, he responded, “I just wanted to tell you....(long pause) You are beautiful. And I always am excited to come deliver here cause I know I’ll see you and I’ve never gotten it together to tell you before.”

Stunned, I paused for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts. Then I told him that I am married, but that he had made my night. He said, “It’s not a pick up or anything, I just wanted to tell you.”

I’m not entirely sure what to make of this encounter...but I thought it was incredibly sweet. Or else I’m a better tipper than I thought. 

5k's are hard - Forts are easy

Miss Bookish Girl is a rock star and is participating in the Tinkerbell 5K at Disneyland this evening.  She had done the San Jose Rock N Roll Marathon previously and she was inspired to keep up this habit and for this, Snarky Rachel and I support her.  So we got in the car to support her.

We met up in our hotel room (where there were only two people in the room, we swear hotel management) and cheered her on as she left to participate in the 5K.  In the room (that only holds two people, get off our backs hotel managementt, we know!) Snarky Rachel contemplated what we could do to show her how much we love her.  The answer was obvious.

We called housekeeping cause we needed extra supplies to build our  fort! Rejecting Logic strikes again!

 

SR is carefully arranging pillows on top of the ironing board and underneath the blankets as extra height was needed.

Just to the right of the ironing board area is the TV, because no fort is complete without a TV.

The other side of our fort is supported by the beds.

All fort building was done under the watchful and approving eyes of the  little green aliens from Toy Story.

I am awesome in my sneaky fort building.

So proud! *Sniffle!

Very tired after all of this work.

Snarky Rachel taking a pic of me.

As the finishing touch, we decided to add the mattress from the pullout couch to  make it more mas comfy. Success!!

Portland Underground

I went to Portland for a family wedding a while ago.  Does this sound a bit familiar?  That's because I covered my astonishing powers of observation in this post here.

But wait, there’s more! For the low, low price of $0 (all you pay is separate shipping and handling), here is another story of shenanigans from Portland.

Did you know that there is a whole city located under the city of Portland?  A series of miles and miles of underground tunnels and areas stretch for over 5 miles under this city.  These “Shanghai Tunnels” are in the basements of the buildings and they connect to the other buildings through brick and stone archways.  This connects under the streets create a series of tunnels that get you from one side of the city to the other.  Or rather, they did, they don’t connect like that anymore (damnit!).  

These tunnels were used for...let’s say “unscrupulous individuals” who wanted to force men to work on ships and grabbed women to sell them into prostitution.  Crimpers (the name of the kidnappers) could make a pretty penny for supplying crews to ships. The practice of “Shanghaiing” is so named because men woke up on a ship at sea bound for Shanghai or the Orient in general.  On average it took these men over 5 years to get back to Portland, if they were able to survive that long under the harsh sailing conditions. For more information on this, and the tour I took click here

These tunnels have been featured on many haunted/ghost hunter shows and has had many reports of unexplainable tings being seen.  The promise of exploring a historical area, that is underneath an existing city, is a nice escape from the 90 degree weather, was involved in illegal activities, got me get away from from bickering family and the possibility of ghost hunting are a lure that I could not hope to be strong enough to resist.

I took all the pictures, but these pictures are used by permission of the Cascade Geographic Society/Portland Underground Tours, 2011 

All items featured in the tunnels have been found in the tunnels by the historical society that is excavating them.

Once you open the giant metal doors in the sidewalk, you walk down a steep steep staircase down into a long tunnel. You grab a flashlight and keep walking. Until you see this..

Yeah, that's a baby high chair.  That's just freaky

 This is the area when lit by regular bulbs

This is the area when the lights have been turned off.  That  light is a red bulb that is on to show what these passages looked like when you were using candles or lanterns.  It is DARK!

If you were doing something illegal, wouldn't you want to do it somewhere that people couldn't find you? Cue the tunnels!
This is an opium den, where people would pay for the bunks to lay in while they were chasing the dragon.  The top bunk was the least expensive, what with the chance you would fall off the bunk and hurt yourself. The bottom bunk was the most expensive and convenient.

Here is another shot of the opium den.  The stairs went up to one of the restaurant area alleys..easy access.  Already drunk? Now get high!

This is a picture of a chair and some tin cans...

Oh, you wanted more?  Fine.  This is a place where the people watching the "compelled laborers" would stay.  The cans are the alarm system.. If someone managed to get out,in the dark and not knowing where they were going, they would run into one of these.  Then the Shanghaiers would know were to find them.

These are miscellaneous artifacts found so far. Buckets, spoons, tools and more.

 

More alarms

This is one of the passages from one tunnel to another.  Usually a man with a chair and the alarms were somewhere near here.

I am neither a man or an alarm.

These are the shoes found in the tunnels.  If you were one of the lucky men "asked"to join a crew they took your shoes and threw you into a small, small cell with about 25 other men.

This is why they took your shoes.  If you managed to get out, and bypassed the alarm you would be walking on pieces of broken glass.  Glass covered the ground so you were crippled by shredded feet.

This is hard to see, but this is the inside of a cell. The cell holds one person and a chair.  More specifically, this is a cell where they would put women who were being sold into prostitution.  In the course of investigating this practice in the 1970's, one former crimper claimed he could break a woman of the idea of hope or escape in 8-12 hours.  

This is the same box.  Reports are that there is a smell of perfume in this area and the door to the cell opens on its own.

This is a coal chute...or maybe a convenient area to roll drunken men into the underground.  Either way, it was useful to someone.

Portland is one of the only cities known to have used "dead drops" as a frequent method of gathering able bodied men.  Imagine you're standing at a bar drinking and having a good time.  Suddenly the floor drops out from under you and you land in the basement on a stuffed mattress.  Congratulations, you have now been shanghaied.

No idea why these pics, and only these pics mind you, are blue.

This wooden Indian was also shanghaied by the crimper Joseph Kelly.  Apparently he had a deadline and could find no man that was as impressive a figure as this statue.  So he wrapped him up, told the captain he was unconscious and not to wake him up until they were waaaay out to sea.  Because of the impressive figure, the captain paid him the nice fee of $50 for this!

 

Because these tunnels are underneath the buildings above, these are pipes that the buildings need for modern convenience (water, sewer, etc...)  I'm so short, I fit under these with no problem.

More stairs to nowhere.  It is rumored that there were multiple layers underground.  Some went three or four layers down.

Once prohibition came about, what better place for an illegal bat than underground?  Then, add in some prostitutes.  All of this stuff was found underground.  The fan, the bed frame, the materials, the cups...all of it.  Plus you really only need one girl, cause she just says "Come around the corner" and then the men walk into some friendly neighborhood crimpers.

This place was fascinating and tragic.  To think that this practice was going on well into the 1900's this place makes you think about the things people are willing to do to make a buck.  

You want to know about ghosts?  Did something happen that I can't quite explain? Yes

 Did I see a ghost? No.  

But if you want to go ghost hunting, I'm game :)

More Questionable Logic

So that debate that I posted a few days ago?  That brief break was just intermission.

Logic Vs Amazon - Part 2

Doesn't everyone get into debates with friends during their free time?

No?

Ok then...

This thing you called logic...what is that?

A few days ago, a crack group of bloggers got together for the purpose of making their blogs the best that they could be.  They promptly realized this group created an almost unholy alliance of ADD, creativity and opinions (so many opinions).  This consortium of evil geniuses is comprised of a theatrical adventurer (Me), a bibliophile  and a snarky wandering nerd  Any questions, comments or concerns should be forwarded to our Editor in Chief, Miss Bookish Girl. Unless they are related to our sanity or grasp of logic. In which case, check those at the door.

Much like the Twilight Zone, this is a dimension of imagination.  Realizing that their arguments and discussions could in fact, be part of the blog, they decided to occasionally post them.  If you see one of these posts, do not click away, do not adjust your monitor, you have just born witness to, Rejecting Logic!

 Sometimes adventures come in the form of spirited discussion.  Here is one of them...

Logic Vs. Amazon

Part 1 (maniacal laugh, maniacal laugh)

Mousecapades

Today there will be a different format for the blog post.  My friend Bella Rachel and I went to a show. Then an odd thing happened to us after the show.  We have found though, in the course of telling this story, that our approaches to this adventure were vastly different.  Hence, this post is being told from both of our points of view.  And, because we are wordy, this long.

So get a drink and a snack and strap in....

To avoid confusion my pov is prefaced by EM and hers will be prefaced by BR
Ready?
Ok

Setting the scene:  We are alone, in a parking lot of a strip mall.  It is well after 10pm and there is really no one else about. Bella Rachel’s car was parked here during the show and so I have parked my car in the spot directly to the left of hers.

EM: After the show, but us, being us, we never just say goodnight and then leave.  We had to sit there and discuss everything and anything ranging from the show to …well anything.  I had pulled up next to her car, so that eventually when we decided it was time to go home, it was not very far to go.

As we were talking I saw some movement in the passenger seat behind Rachel’s head.  Totally forgetting that this was her car I said,” I think there is a dog in that car”.

Without even blinking she says, “There is no dog in that car.  That is my car”.

“Oh, that’s right,” I said thinking, “How funny that I forgot that I parked next to her car not even 10 minutes ago”..and we went back to talking. 

A few moments later I thought I saw some more movement and I said, “I swear something is moving in that car….I think you have a ghost”.

“What?” she exclaimed, “There is no ghost in my car”. 

“Well, something is moving in that car”.

“No”, she said patiently (and a little slowly as if I big words might be confusing), “It’s just the lights from the cars that are turning in and out of the parking lot”.

“Huh...that makes sense”, I said.

BR: Why is the logical next step from dog in the car, a ghost in the car? Do you see why I felt that big words might be a little difficult at the moment?

EM: While I concede that lights is most logical as an explanation, since you made it abundantly clear that there was no animal in your car, ghost was the next thing to pop in my mind.

Moving on….

We continue to talk and I see the movement again and this time I see that it is not a ghost or a dog; it is a mouse …in her car!

“Um…there is a mouse in your car”, I said slowly.  I was also trying hard not to let the smile in to the sound of my voice.  Cause, really?  How did this happen? And it’s hilarious (Said in sing song voice...go ahead, it’s fun)

“What?!?!?” she squeaked and turned around to see, probably holding out hope that I am lying.  And there is the mouse, stretching out in all his mousey glory, as he tried to see how tall he could get as he looked out the window of her car.

BR: It’s true. For a split second, I fully believed that EM was lying to me to fuck with me. I also deny that I “squeaked”.

EM:  She totally squeaked

Bella Rachel turns to me, with an accusatory stare and tone and says, “These kinds of things never happened to me before I met you!”

“What? I had nothing to do with this!” I said in disbelief.

“These kinds of things only happened to me AFTER I met you!”

“This is NOT my fault!” I said, in between giggles, but trying to look affronted at the implication that this is somehow my fault.

BR: I still believe that the mouse is EM’s fault. Before EM, no mice in my car. After EM, there is a mouse in my car. See the correlation? And you vehemently telling me that this was NOT your fault is decidedly unconvincing when you are giggling uncontrollably.

EM:  That is terrible logic.  

“There cannot be a mouse in my car!  I am afraid of mice”, she wailed, “So he can’t be in my car”. (best logic ever, I am afraid of it so it can’t be)

“Ok, then let us get him out of your car”, I said and opened my door, totally failing at trying not to giggle cause this sh*t was funny.

BR: I maintain that I neither wailed nor squeaked.

I did say, “I cannot drive my car with a mouse in it. If he stays there, we have to leave my car here and I will be coming home with you. Or, we can trade cars and I will return your car once mine no longer has a mouse in it.”
EM, not particularly liking either of those ideas, managed to stop laughing hysterically long enough to say, “Well, ok, give me your keys.” She proceeded to open all the doors to my car, in hopes that the mouse would scamper out of its own accord.

I, of course, could go nowhere near my car. I was the absolute picture of a distressed woman. 

Em: Complete picture of a distressed woman?  I’m glad no one in this post is being over dramatic  or anything.

BR: I’M over dramatic? Hi, Pot, my name is Kettle.

However, not all was lost! We are both married to manly men. Surely, one of them has an idea of how to remove said mouse from my car. Yes?

While EM called her husband, I texted mine. He had been imbibing throughout the evening and his most recent text said, “Are you coming home soon?” I responded with, “I would love to come home, but there’s a mouse in my car.” Now, my husband is well aware of my fear/hatred of mice. I expected an appropriately shocked response and an immediate inquiry into my mental state and well being. What I received, however, was “Oh noes!” Followed shortly by, “I promise it won’t crawl up your leg and bite you while you drive.”
…..
Yes, he said that. Fail on the husband front.

So, EM decides that leaving all of the doors open and blaring the radio is the best plan to scare the mouse out. Not having a better suggestion, I stood as far away from car as I possibly could while still being near it. As I continued to pace the area and restate that I could not possibly drive my car while there was a mouse in it, we waited for a few moments and nothing happened.

Finally, EM came up with a brilliant plan. We would turn off the radio, close up the car, and roll down the one window where this mouse had previously been spotted. We would then sit in her car and wait for the mouse to come to the window again.

At this point we were coming to terms with absurdity of our situation and began posting on Twitter and Facebook what we were going through. Suffice it to say, our friends were no more helpful than our husbands. 

EM thought to Google ways to get a mouse out of a car. Those suggestions were…kind of worthless.

EM: Google suggestions:  Get a cat, drown it in a bucket of water, cover something in peanut butter....

BR: The way you wrote those suggestions, it sounds like steps...

EM: Fine
Suggestion 1: Get a Cat
Suggestion 2: Drown it in a bucket of water
Suggestion 3:Cover something in peanut butter

BR: Love you!!!! :)

Anyway, we continued chatting and waiting for the mouse when, suddenly, the mouse appeared! EM was very helpful (insert sarcastic tone here) (EM: I was so helpful it isn’t even a joke!)at this point as she began using a sweet voice usually reserved for pets and tried to talk the mouse of the car, saying what a pretty and healthy mouse it was. I, being less concerned with the health of the mouse than with its whereabouts, was less than amused by her.

EM: So. True.  You were in fact, mean to the mouse.  She starts yelling at the mouse “Mouse (BR: expletive)!  You get out of my car!  Right! (BR: Expletive!) Now!”

The mouse failed to respond.  In fact, he gave us the mouse version of F-U and scampered away from the window and over to the drivers seat.  Bella Rachel, in her “picture of a distressed woman”pose, turns away from the window as she cannot bring herself to see what he has planned.  

The mouse then starts running back and forth across the dashboard (laps, what is this, a gym?) (BR: Yes, it was a full-service moving hotel) and I say “Do not turn around.”

Unable to do the very (small) thing I asked, she turns around to see the mouse stop in the middle of her dashboard and survey his mousey little kingdom.

“Mouse!  Get out of my car!” she yells (Thank goodness the parking lot was empty or people would have thought we had lost our minds) meanwhile I am saying (BR: in her syrupy sweet, kind voice), “Mouse, why are you making her mad?  Just get out of the car.  There are restaurants here, garbage cans, grocery stores and a sewer entrance...it’s like mouse heaven!”  

Now imagine us doing this at the same time, in the general direction of her car for about a full minute.

Then the mouse makes his way to the steering wheel, climbs on it and then does this:
This is the mouse...clearly, he was kind of a jerk

Her screaming at the mouse gets worse and I collapse into giggles.

BR: That’s cuz you’re a b*tch (sing-song voice...omg, you’re right, it IS fun)

EM: Why does it sound like F-U when you say it like that?

Then, a few minutes later the mouse is done congratulating himself on what an awesome mouse he is and decides he needs fresh air...at the window we left open for him.......and …...stops.  I am trying to coax him out into the awesomeness that is the outside of her car, in between giggling when Bella Rachel turns to me and says, “I don’t know who I hate more at this moment, you or the mouse”.

Luckily, the mouse then lost his footing and fell out of the car.  Scampering away into the darkness.

Excited that this is now over I say, “Yay! Drive safely! Let me know when you get home”.

Bella Rachel says, “We have to wait a few minutes”.

“For what?”

“In case he comes back”, she said in all seriousness.

Apparently he is the super spy of mice.

BR: Wait....when did we decide he likes opera??

EM: All spies like opera...duh

BR: Look, I know you’re making fun of me (and I’m crushed), but this was an important step. If I had gotten out of my car and into yours and during this process the mouse had hopped back into my car, I would have passed the F out. Also, right around this point is when a policeman drove by. We were both aggravated that he wasn’t around sooner (to help) and also glad he wasn’t around sooner (to declare us insane for yelling at a mouse).

EM: At some point you may have tried to grab his gun and shoot the damn mouse.

BR: Or, you.

EM:  No, no...definitely the mouse

After a sufficient amount of time has passed I am given permission to check her car for super sneaky mice that possibly might be trying to get back in the car (there were none) and after it was declared safe....She got into her car.

Where she found this note:

Wouldn't that have been amazing?!?!?!

BR: Remember that part where it sounded like I was saying F-U? That was a good part.

As a side note, this story fully defines our relationship in so many ways. a) we love to f*ck with each other as much as possible. b) it took us about two months to write this. c) one of the best parts of writing this was typing over each in google docs.

EM: That's cause “We’re awesome!”

BR: When you put it in quotes, it sounds less genuine. It’s a scientifical fact that we are awesome.

Oh!!! And, we named the mouse. We named him Anakin. Know why? Cuz I hate little Anakin. And I hate that super fluffy healthy mouse.

EM: But he was so fluffy and healthy he couldn't have been in our car very long...that is all I’m trying to say

BR: HE.WAS.IN.MY.CAR.

EM: I still maintain this wasn’t and could never be, my fault.

BR: It’s ok, I totally forgive you.

EM: For helping you when you were a “completely distressed woman”?

BR: …...sure. THAT. Quick question: what’s 2 + 2 (for large values of 2) = ?

EM: 5!