Category — bidzness

For the past few weeks Dane has been working on Felicia Day’s diary website and last night it finally launched.

Do you see how I wrote that sentence sort of nonchalantly? Because, you know, I am in contact with awesome, famous people all the time.

So anywhedon, THAT HAPPENED and Dane did a bang up job and although I am NOT UPSET WHATSOEVER that Felicia Day gets to have a shiny, pretty website and I still have this poopy one that doesn’t even allow for gravatars or tag clouds or my Twitter Account or my Facebook profile and is you know, still based on a Wordpress 1975 platform and every morning I have to bang the blog on it’s side to get the wheels to crank and the gears to…uh..gear or whatever…where was I?..oh Felicia Day!

I am thrilled with how nice and modern and functional and neat her blog is (minus the missing pegasuseses and unicaurnxies – you know what I’m talking about Felicia).

Did you see that? Did you see how I called her Felicia? I can call her Felicia now because she and I are totally going to be best friends forever and I can only assume she’ll be moving to San Francisco very shortly and then, every single night she’ll come over and braid my hair with velvet ribbons and watch The Highlander (the series, not the movies) and eat fudge-y brownies and then we’ll go to Forever 21 or American Apparel (depending on how we feel about labor laws that day) to buy leggings and then to Japantown to sing some karaoke.

What? Why are you all staring at me like that?

Summer Glau is welcome to join us, obviously..

I’ll blog with words tomorrow but here are some pictures to keep us all busy and productive.

And I am more than happy to answer them for you today.

By now you’ve all had over 24 hours to let the moving away news seep in (Melissa Lion has had a little bit longer, but her path to acceptance is steep my friends – much like the hills in San Francisco as was pointed out to me by my friend Ned Lannamann) and I imagine you’ve got some simmering resentment, curiosity, and bewilderment in your stockpots of love or whatever.

So ask away – throw your questions into the pot and I’ll bring them to a roiling boil!

Relocation Specialist Kiala™ is here for you.

(Oh! And yes, the blog is coming with me. You people are all I HAVE. Well, you guys and the Effexor. More on the Effexor tomorrow.)

Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without that Intern Meagan. She’s been a part of our lives for such a short time but her impact has been tremendous, am I right?

And tomorrow I finally get to meet her and buy her a beverage at Backfence PDX! And Intern Nathalie too! Woot1!!1 or whatever.

I’m very excited for this installment of BFPDX because our friend Matt Davis is telling stories and he has some kind of accent or something which seems both thrilling and cosmopolitan. I don’t know. It makes him sound real smart. And hopefully his wife, Sue, will be there as well. She’s super and I haven’t seen either of them in too long for reasons I can’t think of right now other than general laziness.

Here is the pretty Backfence flyer for tomorrow’s event~

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And now on to IRRITATING things.

A woman who goes by the name of Ste. Goldie™ is annoyed with my Pearl District attitude about cab drivers who don’t want to go to Taco Bell.

I’m not sure why I offend her sensibilities so much but I’ve been told people who attend Clark County Community College are very sensitive souls who need much hand holding and emo music and passive aggressive Taco Bell references to soothe their overwrought nerves. Poor Ste. Goldie™. It must be so dark in there, alone with your Sylvia Plath poetry and Pablo Neruda postcards. Er, or something. I have no idea. It’s all very romantic.

Hey guys!

Well, I am just up to my earballs (NOT A WORD) in John Updike this week and can’t seem to pry myself away from Brewer, Pennsylvania or it’s bevy of heavy haunched ladies, sad saps and miscreants. Unfortunately I do have some responsibilities such as going to a screening today and writing for this blog.

What’s a girl to do?

Never fear! Intern Meagan has told me in the strictest of confidences that she was once a very popular advice columnist! I wonder what else Intern Meagan has done in her murky past? Firefighting? Republicans?

Ha! No, no our sweet, sweet Meagan is an angel of virginity. Just like me.

Anythings…I think in lieu of me writing about the Beer and Blog today (I just don’t have time to do it justice but Melissa did a bang up job of explaining, er, something about something – okay I don’t know but she told the room about my cat Vimeo so SA-WEET!) you should all put your questions for Intern Meagan to answer in the comments area.

Keep in mind, I have not checked ahead with Meagan to see if she even has time for this but whatever – I guess I’ll answer them if she’s busy. Sigh. I have to do everything around here.

I don’t know. I just like dragons.

You know, sometimes I think what I write in a comment on someone’s blog post is eight thousand times better than anything I will ever write anywhere. (Did you hear that New Yorker? TAKE NOTE.) Which brings me to my point that has nothing whatsoever to do with what I just said…

I HAVE AN INTERN!

(See how badly I need one? That paragraph was NONSENSE.)

I do! Her name is Meagan (like that, Meagan with an “a” for flair) and I owe her one very thoughtful email which I will get to shortly here. Right after I read the new IKEA catalog and organize the home office.

Hey wait, you say! Aren’t those things your new intern could do????

No, no, no Meagan will only be doing some light typing, the Googling, and maybe also setting up a Facebook page for Face of the Cookie. And picking up Dane’s dry cleaning. And brushing my hair before bedtime. Easy peasy.

Well, why can’t Superfan do those things, you say?

Because being a Superfan is an altogether different, yet still illustrious position. (I don’t know what illustrious means…MEAGAN! Goddammit, where is that girl? Get to the Google, STAT!) Anyway, they are two different things, Superfanness and Internness, and I couldn’t get along without either of them. Don’t ask me to tell you what the difference is, because I don’t know. And I don’t want to know. I just want to have them both. Not in that way, NOT IN THAT WAY, INTERNET.

(A little bit in that way.)

Tomorrow night, I am meeting up with the women of the Portland Brain Sluts/Trust and we will all compare notes on our interns (except Zoe who needs an intern desperately) and maybe come up with a scheme to make them compete against each other somehow…like an intern Olympics…maybe even coinciding with the Beijing ones. Only our interns will do intern-y things. Not, you know, running or jumping or whatever…maybe making the perfect cocktail or fielding questions from the Press. Stuff like that.

I’ll keep you posted. Or Meagan will. Whatevs.

I don’t know. Maybe they’ll give me free things.

What the hell Kiala. Where is the third panel?

Well, I am sorry internet, but Dane and I went to a meet and drink for Django or by Django or with Django or something last night and I had four too many vodka sodas and “entertained” a bunch of cute computer geeks with my “wit” and then had to get up early this morning to be late for a dental appointment. The computer men were all very tolerant of my software ignorance. Probably because they were powerless against the force of nature that is my shiny, shiny hair. Or (and this is more likely) they were just being polite.

Guess who I ran into on my way downtown? That Melissa Lion of Melissa Lion fame! So I dragged her with me to the Django thingy and she and Dane and I had a good convo about how he really needs to buy a pair of aviators because his sunglasses are a little “Ice Cube” as Melissa so eloquently put it. Then she went home to make herself some steak with hot sauce.

It’s really too bad she left because I was one of two girls at this function – completely surrounded by smart, successful boys. Yes, yes, I am married and very, very happy but it doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a bevy of be-sneakered boys in glasses all volunteering to whip out their iPhones to look up the name of Douglas Adams’ sandwich beast* in Mostly Harmless. I mean, my God people, I’m only human.

Dane and I had a very good time talking to them about um, multi line functionality or some such thing. I dunno. I was drunk.

Aaaand I sat next to Simon Willison who created something important (Python or Django or soy milk or…okay…I don’t really know and Dane is going to kill me for that) along with another guy who I did not sit next to. They sparkled like diamonds.

I’m not kidding. They did. Like diamonds.

Simon and I talked about the difference between Trekkies and Trekkers (Trekkers go to conventions, Trekkies don’t) and then we segued into some Battlestar. Yay! He hadn’t finished season four though so I was a bit stymied about what I could or could not say. And then he told me about Dwarf Attack. I’m not going to say anything more about that because I may try to pitch a Dwarf Attack article to somebody in the near-ish future. I’m not sure. So don’t steal Simon Willison’s my brilliant ideas internet, please. Thank you.

Oh! He also told us all about this place. Apparently, you’ll get reprimanded for picking up the sugar cubes with your fingers. It sounds fascinating. And they spell cozy wrong. Do not argue with me about this, Matt Davis.

I also met a super guy named Mike Richardson. He is teaching himself how to skateboard which is awesome, right? And I guessed his age which kind of totally freaked him out, I think. In hindsight I probably should have told him I’m made out of magic and marked with the number of the beast. Oops! Sorry, Mike! We’re Twitter friends now anyway. There’s no going back.

Oh! And my new superfan Mark Gross came over and introduced himself to us. Hi Mark! Thanks for meeting me!

As we were leaving, we shared the elevator with a guy named Ben from England who said he was going home to sleep and I said, “Yes, we’re going there too. To your home.” He said, “NO!” and waved us away with his hand just as I was muttering, “No, that would be…weird.”

So at that point I had freaked out not one, but two, software engineers using only my mind and my lack of social skills. I was ON FIRE.

Dane should probably not let me leave the house anymore.

I’ll put the final episode of Kiala Comics up first thing tomorrow, peoples. Promise.

*Perfectly Normal Beast

Crissy – That was great! I read it to Dane. I think I’m on the same track as you, veganwise. Twice a day and then chicken happens. You feel me?

Matt Davis – I see what you’re driving at. Fisher family story? Is that it? I should do that? All ur ideas are belong to me. Thank you.

Megan – Those people are insane. On the serious. And I love my new/your old top. It might make my arms look a little fat(ter) but whatever. Fat arms are my new bicycle.

Justin – I want that Toaster toaster but I also want this. And then it’s a present for Dane, too.

Chris – It’s in one of these goddamn boxes! I’ll find it.

Keri – Cousin! I miss you! I hate talking on the phone. Email me please. Or I’ll email you.

Sallie Mae Student Loan Service Center - You should probably just chalk this one up to experience. Sorry.

I’m eating this – it’s half a veggie sausage on a whole grain ezekiel english muffin with spinach, avocado and jalapenos. I’m very healthy all the time.

Lunch: Not this one but one very much like it and soon.

So last night Dane proposed something to me. He said that I could take over his nutrition for a month (although, ominously, “not on weekends” he said) if he could take over my writing career. What he means is getting me to pitch stories to people who might say no to me which makes me cry mad and not the actual writing because I am a genius and he, sadly, is not.

What do you think, internet…should I let him and also, do I really want to force Dane to eat vegetables for a month? Doesn’t that seem like a lot of work?