You know what’s odd? I have a very vivid memory of watching the Princess Bride as a child and being TERRIFIED during the sword fight between Westley and Inigo. Despite the fact that my main fear seemed to be the suspense and the possibility of one of them going over the cliff, I remember holding a pillow in front of my face every time I watched it (which was many).

But that’s the only part I remember being afraid of. My parents always made me leave the room during the fight between Inigo and Count Rugen (because of the bloody death and the cuss), but I was allowed to watch Westley wrestle the Rodents of Unusual Size. Those things are creepy as hell! And what of the Shrieking Eels? I’m sure I was afraid during those scenes too, so why is my strongest memory of the artful sword fight?

The human memory is a funny thing.

Top Tip: Want to make a good impression on your potential girlfriend’s roommate? After you talk about how great the Clue movie is and display an impressive knowledge of Rik Mayall and Ade Edmondson’s shared filmography, if you and said proto-girlfriend decide you want to watch Clue in her room, ask the roommate’s permission to borrow said DVD, instead of, I don’t know, walking into the living room and announcing “I’m going to borrow your Clue DVD.”

Just came across the lyrics I wrote when I was 18, for the hardcore band I was trying to start with my show buddy, Norah. We were going to be the vocalists, because it worked for the Blood Brothers so why not? I don't remember if we ever had a name, but since we couldn't find any actual musicians to go along with this scheme, nothing came of it. Still, we wrote three songs: "Liking Damien Isn't Edge," "Chubby Emo Scenester Boy," and "Friends Don't Let Friends Date Boys From Lacey." Sample lyric: "Fuck you Damien/we hate you now/you're not posi/you fucking cow." Ah, what might have been!

I played a birthday party yesterday, and I knew there would be this guy in attendance that I recently blocked on Facebook for being an aggressive, argumentative jerk with a penchant for mainsplaining and pedantry. I hoped we could just ignore each other (it was a big party), and at least be civil.

After I'd been there for less than an hour, he sat down at the table where I was chatting with some people, ostensibly working on something for his portion of the festivities later. But in the middle of me telling the Dalek story from ECCC, he interrupts to say, "You got schooled!" Yes, well, I can see how a humorless pedant like yourself would perceive humorless pedantry as "schooling," but nobody asked you, so why don't you do everyone in the world a huge favor and just stop existing, hmm?

Sometimes I'm funny.

My brother are I were just texting back and forth about hanging out today. We planned to have lunch after he finishes taking posters for this upcoming CD release show to some local businesses. He needed to make three stops before coming to mine: Sonic Boom (a record store), Bop Street (another record store), and Full Tilt (an ice cream parlor/pinball arcade). So he said, "I have to stop by Boom, Bop, and Tilt first." I responded, "Those are the names of my henchmen when I'm a Batman villain."

Adventures in Networking

Tonight, I went to a friend's birthday gathering at Golden Gardens, which sounds like a Chinese restaurant but is actually a beach in Seattle. The birthday girl was the director of the play I was in this summer, and one of the other cast members came and brought his 8-year-old daughter, India. Some of the adults were talking about Shakespearean insults, and India decided to come up with some good insults for us. Turns out, she's some sort of insult savant. The following are a few I managed to write down, all manufactured entirely within her tiny brain. You embarrassing bag of warts! You mad, infected ear! You stinky, moth-eaten old sock! You tub of toxic gasoline! You smelly, dog-faced booger! (I helped with that one, although sadly I contributed 'smelly,' while she thought of 'dog-faced.') Seriously, she could give old Will a run for his money.

From The Desk of Sarah's Brain

I was thinking about that gifset where the young lady asks to ruffle David Tennant's hair, and since I'm currently watching my way through the entire 800+-video catalogue of the VlogBrothers and have them on the brain, I thought, "I'd like to ruffle John Green's hair. I'd like to ruffle the Puff." Then I thought, "Heh. Rufflepuff." And then I chuckled inwardly for a few minutes. That is all.

Washerwomen

Yesterday, I met a woman who, like me, plays the washboard. For 11 years, this woman had made her living playing in a Cajun band in New Orleans, which she described as "a very happy time in my life." After Katrina, she and her husband had to move to Maryland for him to find work, and she said she hasn't played since. She expressed surprise that I was a woman as well, since most washboard players are men. I told her that, while that may be true for the Cajun scene, in the alt.folk/old time/folk punk scene there are many women playing washboard (Breezy Peyton, anyone?) She gave me tips for amplifying (she attached a Barcus-Berry sax pickup to the back and ran it through an effects pedal, saying, "I could practically make it talk!"), and I encouraged her to start playing music again. I hope she does.

On one hand, I just processed a refund request for 56 cents, because a customer was missing a single pill out of a 180 tablet order and demanded to be compensated accordingly. On the other hand, I am having a conversation on Facebook with the guitarist of my favorite local punk band about how the scene in Playing By Heart where Ellen Burstyn reads Goodnight Moon to her dying son makes us cry like a baby everytime. Sometimes people are ridiculous, but sometimes people are amazing. So there's that.