Let's Puzzles! (IV)

Finished "Cinderella's Grand Arrival" last week (so fast!), and took care of the (rather large) Marvel one in a day or two, because I've now got mad puzzle skillz.

My next puzzle project is to make a mash-up of Cinderella and Winnie the Pooh. Since they have the exact same cut, you can switch pieces between each one. I'm hoping it'll look somewhat odd and beautiful, but the color combination of blue and green really doesn't go together so far.

This might actually be harder than doing the puzzles from scratch, because you have to punch out each piece and they're sturdy little buggers.

2010: The year I revolutionized puzzles?

Let's Puzzles! (III)

So it took about five months, but I finally finished that damn Winnie the Pooh puzzle.


Lemme tell you something, 1000-piece puzzles are HARD. I worked on this thing forever - mostly when Sarah was cooking or baking in the kitchen, so I could keep her company - and at the end there was a very satisfying moment of "Finally!"

And then after basking in my own glory for a few days, I started on the Cinderella puzzle (you can see the beginnings at the bottom of the photo). Fun fact: Its pieces are cut in the exact same way as the Winnie the Pooh puzzle. So I could set down the completed one as a placemat, and focus just on the shapes instead of the colors and stuff to put together "Cinderella's Grand Arrival." Fun, right? RIGHT?

I did that at first, but then it felt like cheating, so I took "Fishing with Friends" and turned it over - a nice thing about this brand is that they're sturdy and don't come apart very easily - so that I woudn't follow the cuts of the jigsaw.

And now I'm about 3/4 done with the border on this new one, so in about... March or so, I'll have something very pretty and worth framing.

You might be wondering why I didn't start on the Marvel Super Heroes puzzle I got for my birthday. Main reason: I have to do them in order. Otherwise there'll be a curse. And I feel like the Marvel one will be easy and might only take a day. Or a week, who the hell knows. And when that's done, it has to remain done and no puzzles can fit on the table until that one gets framed (and it will be framed, to make up for my tragic childhood).

At least with Cinderella, I can do it entirely over the Winnie the Pooh (saving space), and then I'll be ready for the Marvel Super Heroes. Unless, of course, I find that Seven Dwarfs one. Then I'll have to do that, too.

Let's October?

October was basically one neverending 80-hour workweek, and so I disappeared from the ol' blogosphere for a while. My sincerest apologies. If the first 30 days of my 30s are any indication of what the rest of this decade is going to be like, I'm not gonna make it out of here alive.

In November we'll hopefully return to our regularly scheduled programming, but for now, let's look back at the month that was October, quickly and in brief, and in reverse order.

Halloween.
I didn't go out last night, instead I stayed in and finally watched Twilight. But the night before was Buffyprov, and I got to play Giles, and had more fun than I thought I would. The episode ended with all of the Scoobies being murdered inside a Baskin-Robbins by puppet Angel, Spike and Drusilla, which I find acceptable. Also, my death was, as Sarah put it: "really funny."


After that, I went to a pre-Halloween party in Brooklyn, and it being Mischief Night, eventually some inconsiderate people crashed the party and lit some bottle rockets inside. Then they were asked to leave, and as that happened, the drunken fellow attempted to light one last bottle rocket.

I snatched it from his hand - because people who can't play nicely get their toys taken away - and in the struggle ended up smashing his head against the wall. In consequence, I got punched in the face, a regrettable hit that broke my glasses, so now I need new ones. There were more shouts and more punches thrown and a lot of shouting, and though there was almost a bit of a scuffle, it luckily didn't escalate that much further.

I feel bad for some of my comrades, one of whom got punched in the ballz - which is such a low-blow it makes me wish I smashed that guy's head harder - and one unlucky lady who got bruised up by a garbage can.

Funny to think that about 10 years ago on Halloween I also got punched in the face, so now I know what to look forward to when I turn 40.

Oh, and getting home was such a nightmare. We were ejected from a cab who took us in the wrong direction, and I ended up calling the Taxi and Limo Commission on him. Now I can look forward to a day in Taxi Court some time in the near future.

Mischief Night sucks.

ZombieCon.
ZombieCon was mostly a bust because the wet weather fogged up my gas mask almost immediately. I was effectively blind and had to abandon the best part of my costume. Lesson learned: in the event of a zombie invasion, DON'T WEAR A GAS MASK. It'll hamper you more than anything else, and you will get killed.

This is not me, but a similarly attired zombie.


Oh, and I saw one zombie peeing on the street in Times Square, which I find insane. Even more insane - no cop stopped him. Madness!

My Birthday Party.
Thirtyoke Kirkaoke, a hell of a lot of fun! And getting dinosaur party hats were definitely the spark to evolve this from just a normal Charmander-sized party to one of Charizard-sized proportions.

I look forward to having a Christmas Karaoke Gathering of Champions, since this one went so well. Get ready for it!


My birthday.
My actual birthday was mostly a bust, just because of a long day at work and then directing a show and then a not-the-best restaurant and then a Cookie Puss cake that was 1) almost dropped on the floor and 2) didn't have the all-important cookie bits in the center, but then I got the best birthday present ever:


which, seriously, is the best present ever. I mean, I blogged about it, for cripe's sake. It's like my Rosebud.

They Might Be Giants on Jimmy Fallon.
So I'd won this contest where I got to see TMBG on Jimmy Fallon, and we got to stand on the stage. Unfortunately, we were up in a catwalk and off-camera (except for my legs), but it was a really good time, and "Meet the Elements" is a pretty great song (I can't figure out how to link it).

But they also played "Dead"!



Medieval Fest.
I dressed as a gnome. The crowds got me down, but Jen Mac and I had some fun taking pictures.


I'm pretty pissed about my glasses.

Let's ZombieCon!

Mostly to remind myself, but to remind you, too, ZombieCon is happening on Saturday, October 24th (the week before Halloween).

So if you see this guy, stick with him, 'cause he's a survivor (and it's me!).


Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get into my gnome outfit.

Let's Medieval Festival!

Sunday is the 2009 Medieval Festival at Fort Tryon Park.

I've had to miss it for the past two years, either because I'd forget or because I was busy, but this year, I'm going (with Jen Mac!). Probably in costume.

If I blog about wearing a costume, it makes it more likely to happen, so yeah, I might (finally) wear my Gnome outfit.

Let's Gnome?

Let's Do Things!

Those About to Die Salute You
Thursday, August 13
Wow, this is awesome! And free! And requires togas!

Del Close Marathon XI
Friday, August 14 to Sunday, August 16
DeCoster - Saturday 12:15 a.m. at Urban Stages
UCBW: Kicking Ass and Taking Suggestions - Saturday 5:15 a.m. at UCBT
The Puppet Revolution - Saturday 10:30 a.m. at UCBT
Beauty Love Truth - Sunday 5:15 p.m. at Urban Stages

Japan Fair
Sunday, August 23
I feel like I miss this every year... but not this time!

Enormous Television 8
Friday, August 28
Holy shit this is gonna be an awesome one.

Dragon*Con 2009
Friday, September 4 to Monday, September 7
Whee!


(This blog entry is mostly so I don't forget about the Japan Fair.)

Let's Go Mets?

Sarah: Do you want to go to the Mets game tomorrow?

(Everyone at her job is going to see the Mets play tomorrow as some sort of team-building/bonding experience.)

Kirk: Hmm... I dunno. (After several hours of hemming and hawing) OK.

Why the hesitation?
- I don't know anyone at her work, so that'd be odd.
- I'm not that into baseball. The first and last time I went to see a game was probably in the early '90s, some Florida Marlins exhibition game.
- There's a good chance it'll rain in the afternoon (it's raining RIGHT NOW), and as we all know, I'm made of sugar and will die if I get caught in the rain.
- Fear of the unknown.

Why say yes?
- So I can blog about it later.
- I've been told the new stadium is really nice and awesome.
- They have Shake Shack there.
- I want to meet Mr. Met. I really, genuinely do. Like, for serious, I really, really, really want to meet him and shake his hand.

Let's Capture the Flag!

Saturday was the annual Capture the Flag game sponsored by the Company.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love games? I really do! I'm not very competitive, but I like to think about games and rules and strategies and plans. If we lived in some sort of comic book universe, I'd probably be a (mostly) harmless villain similar to the Prankster or Trickster or Riddler or even Arcade (who is pretty dangerous, actually), because I'm so obsessed with games. What this says about my personality, I don't wanna know.


On the other hand, another thing I'm obsessed with is fairness (I probably belong in, yes, HUFFLEPUFF). Games require rules, and the rules must be followed for the game to work. If you break the rules, you're destroying the game, and that's killing fun.

So boy did my dander get up when I started to perceive some unfairness in the setting up of Capture the Flag, in that the two organizers were also the heads of the Blue team. It's like running a race in Murderworld against Arcade, when he already knows the complete map, where the traps are hidden, what the goal is and the best way to get there. One of the sacrifices of planning a game is that you can't really then play it, you know? Or at least, in my unasked-for opinion, each organizer should head a different team.

With the Red Team's collective underdog hackles raised, I cooked up some strategies (a few of which got thrown out the window immediately, while a few were, I like to believe, somewhat effective), bought some supplies at the Bargain Stop (whistles: great idea; clothesline: not so much), and somehow ended up captain of the Red Team.

The pre-game talk hyped up splitting teams fairly in terms of athletic abilities and a li'l factor called "crazy." I never thought I'd be considered one of THOSE types, but I realize now showing up wearing work gloves, a Japanese kerchief on my head, shouldering a backpack full of tripwire, and inexplicably carrying a broom (which bothered more people than I ever would've expected), maybe I am a li'l crazy.


In a game that primarily consists of running around on a hot day, tempers will naturally flare, as both sides accused the other of cheating. I don't like to think of it as cheating so much as twisting the confines of the rules, and when there's a rule that says, "Unless specifically stated otherwise, if we didn't mention it, it's legal," that gives a lot of leeway. Like the Rebellion, I was prepared to take whatever advantage I could to defeat the Empire. Yeah, maybe a li'l crazy... when it comes to games.

What I learned during the course of the day is that everyone has a different idea of what crosses the line between fair and unfair. Duct tape with suntan lotion on it? I don't see a problem. It's more a mental barrier than a physical barrier, but others think differently. The use of water guns I thought would be expected and widespread, but only one person brought one and it seemed to upset everybody. Some folks on the Blue team had discussed bringing water balloons but nixed it because people weren't signing up to get wet, while I think it'd be a lot of fun to have a water balloon fight on a hot July afternoon. On the other hand, I think a squadron of bikes goes against the spirit of what is traditionally a game on foot.

But all bickering aside, the day ended on a 1-1 draw, which is an honorable way to finish with everyone on mostly good terms. And even when I got drawn into a post-game sniping match about the rules, Shannon wisely interrupted us with, "Yeah, but did you have fun?"


We had to admit we did.

Let's Weekend Recap!

A big three days! So much to do, so little time, here's everything in bolded form.

Moustache!
Friday = shave and a haircut for the Hogwarts show. I brought the barbers this picture...


...and walked away looking a bit like Freddie Mercury. I'd forgotten how uncomforable it is to get a professional shave. It feels like they're just scraping off my bristles, and since I'm not the type of man who can shave up against the grain, it gets almost painful at times.

The reviews are mixed. Two people called it "cute," but others have advised I get rid of it. But for the time being [meaning until I'm in a situation where it would be inappropriate to look like Freddie Mercury], the moustache stays. This could be for a very long time, since I never do anything where such a look would be inappropriate.

Yoga!
The hilarious and kind-hearted Kate Spencer spent her birthday teaching her first ever yoga class, and I was lucky enough to be a part of it.

Faithful readers might remember my strained relationship with yoga, but this class was a delight. Difficult, sure, especially since I was probably the only beginner in the class, but I got through it and felt better afterward. I'm still a little sore, which makes me want to do more yoga.

Hogwarts!
As the song goes, it was the best time of my life. If I ever needed to conjure up a Patronus, I'd only have to think of this show.

Immediately after making this statement, Royal realized it was true.


(Here's the flickr set, for those who are curious.)

Street Fair!
On Sunday I was delighted to find a street fair right outside the apartment, so I spent some funny money on a 10-minute massage (not bad!), some corn (not bad!), lemonade (not bad!) and funnel cake (not great).

Even though they're all the same, I always walk through street fairs. But this one was different because it was right outside my apartment! So I could run around going "Street fair!" and buy a lot of weird and crazy food because I could wash my hands afterward.

Swimming!
I went swimming this morning. Swimming! With a moustache!

Let's Release Party!

After that refreshing swim, I headed down to the Scholastic Store to enjoy their Deathly Hallows paperback release "party."

Unlike the gigantic, block-long bash held during the hardcover release, this was a smaller, casual affair. Just a few parents and their kids, with free crossword puzzles, word searches, a chance to build your own wand and potion, and the main event: the hourly trivia contest.

To be honest, I didn't want to play. OK, to be honest, I did. But I didn't want to play against kids. OK, I did want to play against kids, but I didn't want to be judged by the others in the store while doing so. It's embarrassing being the oldest person there who isn't a parent, but I witnessed a mom tie a six-year-old in the first contest, so it wouldn't be that awful, right?

I hung out in the back of the group (there were, say, a dozen people total, most of them kids, three or four of them teenagers, and me, the guy whose nine-year-old daughter was too sick to come but she asked him to enter and win the trivia contest for her), which turned out to be a strategic advantage, because I got asked last. By the time I was given my first question, we'd already lost about two or three kids, the young ones who didn't really know they were in a contest.

And the questions continued... and continued... I couldn't believe my luck - being asked Mad Eye Moody's first name? Easy! While the hard questions that I'd forgotten (the exact address of the Order of the Phoenix HQ) were thrust upon other, bewildered children.

In the end, there were three of us left - one was a pre-teen girl with her friend, and the other a young boy who had lost the earlier contest. I started to breathe easy, because I thought as finalists all three of us would get prizes.

This boy, to put it bluntly, was a nerd. If you were to talk in a stereotypical "nerd" voice, you would sound cooler than this kid. But he knew his Harry Potter... though he did get lucky twice, and would jump up and down and shout that it was just a wild guess, and if he met 10-year-old Kirk, they probably would've been friends. The girl didn't belong in the final three.

I thought, "OK, let's knock out this girl and then I'll concede to the nerd," and had my chance to succeed, too. You would have to name a character, and then the next player would have to say a character whose name begins with the first letter of their last name. Rubeus Hagrid -> Harry Potter -> Petunia Dursley -> Draco Malfoy, etc.

Given the letter P, I said, "Percy Weasley," and no one could think of a character whose name began with a W. I thought I had won, as both the girl and the nerd couldn't think of anyone, but then I had to come up with a suitable character... and I couldn't, either. D'oh! I forgot about Winky the House Elf or Wilhelmnina Grubbly-Plank, and so the contest continued to the very difficult three-star questions.

And that was the end of me. I'd only read Deathly Hallows a single time, during a feverish three-day period, and my retention was weak, at best. I could only recall one item left to Harry in Dumbledore's will, the girl got the next question wrong, and the contest went to the nerd.

Which is good, he wanted to win. First prize was a bag, and I thought, "Eff that, I have a much better bag, it's from the Gotham Girls Roller Derby. I don't need a new one," but second prize was a pin. And though I normally loathe pins, it would've been cool to wear at the Hogwarts Improvisation Society.

But there was no third prize! Bullshit! I got what every participant got - a poster featuring a mash-up of all seven covers. And... that's fine, but what good is it? I wanted a pin!


(Update: This is the pin. Seeing it now, I don't love it so much.)

I had to refrain myself from waiting for the next contest to try and win that pin. I thought of the memorable words of Dr. Henry Jones Sr., "Let it go, Indiana," and so I left, head held high, with a suitable parting gift for my imaginary daughter.

Let's Swimming?

I love swimming, but don't have a swimming pool! What do I do?

Answer: The Astoria Pool, the oldest and largest public pool in NYC. And it's (relatively) close to my house!


Lauren, my friend and fellow Astorian, has talked about starting a swimming regiment, and I've expressed interest. My current exercise routine of weighing myself on the Wii Fit and then eating Cheese Puffs certainly isn't enough, so I gotta add something else.

But she wants to do early morning swims. Like, leave the house at 7 a.m. And that is hard. I'm allergic to waking up early. And anything different scares me. Like, I'll have to walk to the pool (I walked there this weekend, it isn't bad), but then I have to figure out where to put my clothes and how to work the locker and then swim amongst strangers.

And I dunno if I'll want to do laps, because that pool is damn big, or if I'd rather just jump up and down in the water. Or if it'll be too cold and I'll want to go home. And do I have to interact with Lauren? Are we swimming buddies? Or are we just there to make sure the other person shows up and doesn't laze out? Can I just jump up and down?

Also, despite years of living in a pool, I'm not that great of a swimmer. I never learned to hold my breath underwater and I don't swim properly, I just dope around and scream. Oh, and is it inappropriate to scream? Not too loudly, not enough to bother people in their houses, but just loud enough to be like, "Whoa, I'm in the water!"? Eh, I already know the answer to that one.

So... tomorrow. I'll do it. I'll do it at least once. Year of Yes. But this one does scare me.

Let's Yes & Know!

So I spent most of last week in Florida for my brother's wedding, and despite all the hours spent at the pool, my favorite part was reuniting with an old, old pal: Mr. Mystery.


Do people remember this guy? Did people get these books when they were kids? Are there any horse socks? Is anyone listening to me?

For the uninitiated, these are amusements you can buy at the airport or at a rest stop to keep the kids occupied while traveling. At least, that's where I've only ever seen them sold. And they come with an "invisible ink" pen that lets you do all the puzzles and stuff inside.

Whenever we'd go to Disney World (a four-hour drive that always began at, like, 5 a.m.), my brother would always get one. I assume I didn't partake because a) I was too young to do the puzzles, b) Reading in the car would get me sick, or c) I couldn't read, but it was fun to vicariously enjoy them.

The cover was so mysterious! Mr. Mystery, what a name! What excitement! And since I couldn't read, the games of Hangman and "Find the Twins" were ever so much more intriguing.

So while waiting for the flight back to the Big Apple (which, of course, was delayed), I picked up one of these to enjoy with Sarah.

And let me tell you, these are definitely puzzles for kids. Too easy! And there's not enough variety. Eleven types of puzzles are too few for a superior mind such as mine (and Sarah's).

"Fleet" is just another name for Battleship. "Hangman" is weird and dumb when you have SIXTEEN tries to get a word like "TESTIMONY" or "WARRANT." "Maze" is a maze, and "Find the Twins" is kind of fun, but disappointing that if you get it right your reward is just learning their names. And their names are things like "Charles" and "Akers," instead of something punny related to their profession (in this case, a Sherlock Holmes lookalike).

I will say this, though, I DID enjoy the riddles...

Mr. Mystery likes mystery, but not intrigue.
Mr. Mystery likes deduction, but not logic.
Mr. Mystery likes exploring, but not discovery.
Mr. Mystery likes solutions, but not problems.
Mr. Mystery likes detectives, but not investigations.
Mr. Mystery likes policemen, but not stations.
Mr. Mystery likes underdogs, but not dogfights.
Mr. Mystery likes hideaways, but not retreats.
Mr. Mystery likes patrolmen, but not beats.
Do you know what Mr. Mystery likes?

Too easy! But this one did give me pause.

Mr. Mystery likes suitcases, but not suits.
Mr. Mystery likes refrigerators, but not ice.
Mr. Mystery likes saws, but not wood.
Mr. Mystery likes briefcases, but not paperwork.
Mr. Mystery likes ovens, but not baking.
Mr. Mystery likes hammers, but not nails.
Mr. Mystery likes screwdrivers, but not screws.
Mr. Mystery likes skillets, but not frying.
Mr. Mystery likes paddles, but not canoeing.
Do you know what Mr. Mystery likes?

Well, I couldn't possibly solve this mystery. CAN YOU?

Let's Puzzles! (II)

So I bought two more puzzles last night, but it's OK. They're FINE ART. And Disney.



(I have buyer's remorse on the first, since I don't like Winnie the Pooh. But I felt bad that they didn't have the one of the Seven Dwarfs' cottage, which I really wanted, so I overcompensated. Maybe I'll return it. MAYBE.)

Also, looking at the thousands of puzzles on Amazon, I am shocked and appalled by how ugly the art is on most of them. Am I usually this picky in real life? I like to think not, but looking at the puzzles, most of the time I'm like, "Ugh, why would I want to spend my time putting together THAT?"

It's like, photographs? No, thanks. I think photos make bad puzzles. Don't ask me why. Yet one of the few puzzles from my childhood was a photo. Of a panda. I enjoyed that one.

And yet most art/illustration looks so ugly. It's like a horrible nightmare and makes me want to punch myself in the face until I die. I'd put up more pics, but seriously, just do a search for jigsaw puzzles, and you'll see what I'm talking about.

I miss my old puzzle, with all the Marvel superheroes. It was great, but then my dog ate one of the pieces. This was one of the most heartbreaking (non-violent) moments of my childhood. I should have framed it.


I love this illustration. It's so weird. The races stick together, and the Hulk looks uncomfortable to be standing so close to Power Man. What gives, Hulk?

Meanwhile, Mephisto and the Silver Surfer are duking it out, Man-Thing is just inexplicably chilling in the DEAD CENTER OF THE PUZZLE BECAUSE HE'S THE MOST IMPORTANT CHARACTER EVER (why did they put him there?!), the Beast is checking out Howard the Duck, and Nightcrawler is like, "Eff that, I'm not gonna stand by Skunk Girl. I'm just gonna sit on Galactus's shoulder," and then Captain America goes, "All right! Puzzle time!"

And that's what puzzles are all about, Charlie Brown.

Let's Puzzles!

During ToyFair '09 I got to meet a guy who paints pictures for puzzles, which is a very interesting and unique job. And then I found out that Oscarbait (a group I direct) likes to get together and do them while watching movies.

So because I am highly impressionable, I totally went out and bought a 1,000-piece puzzle, set it up on the kitchen table, and got to work. This was maybe two weeks ago, and last night Sarah and I finished.


Whee! Here's what I learned:

- Puzzles are boring. I feel like they're an exercise in obsessive-compulsive behavior. Seriously, sitting alone in the kitchen sorting out the ground from the sky, I felt like a vampire or ghost (or whatever the legend is) that has to pick up all the spilled salt/pieces of straw on the floor before I can go out and kill someone.
- My kitchen table is too high or something. It's uncomfortable to sit there for a long period of time.
- This is another time-wasting device, when I need more time-saving devices in my life. Life is unfair.
- I'd also work on this while Sarah was cooking or washing dishes, which makes me feel like a lazy ass, but truthfully, our kitchen isn't big enough for two people, even though we are small. It's just easier for one person to do the dishes. And she's a better cook than me. And at least I'm in there hanging out with her rather than spending time with the gerbils or Toon Link, right?
- It's interesting to note that when I'd suggest we switch (I clean/cook and she work on the puzzle), she'd treat it like a grueling exercise in unfun.
- Charles Wysocki (who designed this puzzle) is a bastard! All those pieces of blue sky, the big cluster of trees, and let's not even think about the dirt ground, it's all really hard! Each of those sections I had to solve by trial and error, you couldn't figure it out from the colors. It was all muddy and stupid.
- Even though it makes it easier, looking at the box is dumb. It's like cheating. Just look at it once when you buy it, and then figure it out as you go along. I'm glad I didn't look at it, though for ages I wasn't sure where that gigantic dog was supposed to go.
- This puzzle has a KID RIDING A GIANT DOG. That's probably the main reason I bought it.
- I'd still rather do one of those Simpsons or Disney mosaic ones.
- Where do you buy puzzles? When I made up my mind to get one, it was like that junkie itch where I had to buy one RIGHT THIS SECOND, but where? Toys R Us in Times Square? That weird model shop down the road? And then I realized the simple answer: drug stores. All drug stores carry puzzles (though their selection might be shoddy). This is good to know.
- What do you do when you finish? I kind of wanted to frame it, since it's Pappy's First Puzzle, but as Sarah pointed out, neither of us are particularly fond of the design. And frames cost money. So what next? We destroy it and put it back in the box? Feed it to the gerbils?
- I'm going to exchange this puzzle with Oscarbait, and work on another, hopefully better, one.

Two Decisions I Recently Made...

1. "Would you be willing to shave your eyebrows for our commercial?"

And I quickly said NO, THANK YOU.

I don't need the money, get little satisfaction at playing a taste bud, and I like my eyebrows a lot. My face would be weird without them. So, sorry, candy commercial, but you can count me out.

2. "Would you be willing to wear a [name omitted] mascot costume for a toy convention?"

And I quickly said YEAH, BUDDY!

I'd have done it for free, actually, instead of the big bucks they offered. Come on, this is Kirk they're asking. I'm an idiot that loves mascots and toys, and this is the closest chance I'll ever getting to becoming a human cartoon (side-note and name-drop: Dick Cavett once called me an "animated toy." Swear to God.), so sign me up!

I was young and foolish then. I feel old and foolish now.

For the past four days I've suffered, worked harder than I think I ever have in my life, and definitely experienced more pain than I've ever felt, including the time I was beaten up by a blind date who was twice my size.

I wish I could've blogged every day to complain and scream, but by the time I limped home, I was too tired and weak to do anything but sit in the bath and disinfect my wounds.

Yeah, if there is a personalized Hell for Kirk, it's what I experienced. To paraphrase Neil Gaiman, it sounds like a bad joke. But, like everything else in Hell, it's deadly serious.

Imagine being surrounded by every funzo toy in the world. And you're allowed to play with them because you're dressed like a cartoon! But... you can't. Your hands are covered in weird, four-fingered gloves that reduce your Dexterity by 10 (D&D scores), and you can barely see out of the dark, tunnel-visioned, mesh-covered hole that is your only outlet to the outside world.

Sweat streams down your face constantly, but you can't wipe it off. You can't touch your head, so that headband you naively wore on the first day, when it slips down and blocks your eyes, YOU ARE SCREWED. When your glasses fog up or fall down too far, YOU ARE SCREWED.

So you go sans spectacles and headband and deal with the sweat. It stings your eyes. So it goes. You lose over a pound a day due to sweating. That sounds dangerous.

The head has this adjustable strap that digs into your forehead. You can't get it to fit right, so you try to hold your beak with one hand, as if you are thinking or have a toothache. The strap causes blisters on your forehead. You get a familiar, almost loving, headache as soon as you put the head over yours. It digs and pinches in all the wrong pressure points. You think you're going mad.

You realize why knights of the olden days sometimes suffocated. The head heats up horribly. You exhale in a way that hopefully blows cool air in your face. It doesn't work. You wonder what would happen if you passed out, and it's only pride and a weird sense of cartoon-character honor that prevents you from giving in.

You can't speak, of course. Mascots never speak. So when you eventually cry from the pain and because you think you're blacking out (and believe me, no matter how proud you are, eventually you will cry), you have to do so silently.

The body was made for someone bigger and stronger than you. It hangs heavily on your shoulders, and the straps unmercifully scrape your skin. The blisters bleed. Sweat gets in the open wounds. It hurts, but what're you gonna do?

Worst of all are the feet of this silly, harmless little cartoon character. You can't walk in the way God and Evolution meant for humans to walk. Your feet remain flat all day, you lift them up, almost like you are marching, and you cannot arch your foot.

The tops of the feet dig into your shins. They bleed, too. You put band-aids and socks over them, but with every step, every single step, they cut into your skin. Every time you walk, all day. And the blood and lymph (?) get stuck to the fur and to your cotton socks, and when they dry, they rip a little. This causes you to bleed some more. You take pride in the fact that none of your blood gets on the costume.

Your walk is somewhere between a waddle and a limp, which is good for the character, but it's really because you've pulled some muscle in your leg. The next day, you'll favor your other leg, and then you'll pull that one, too. By the third day, there's a full-on sprain or something. It hurts. The legs and feet are heavy, and you have all day to walk around and wave at people.

Speaking of the people, are they wide-eyed kids or fellow Kirks who appreciate things like mascots? For the most part, no, not really. This isn't Disney World. It's a convention. They've got business to deal with. Children, and this is true, are forbidden at the toy convention. The convention badge actually says, "Please save yourself and your child the stress and embarrassment of being turned away."

You wave, blow kisses, give a thumbs-up or a high-five. The adults wave politely, smile genuinely every now and then, but the majority of what you get are blank stares and feigned ignorance.

And you know what happens to a cartoon that's ignored, right? It dies.

And so died a little part of my soul.

[Note: This post was a bit dramatic and whiney, so I want to end it by saying my bosses were incredibly cool and sweet and nice, and all the suffering was on my part to be a martyr and not give up.

I thought I could make it through the entire convention, and I was right. I can barely walk right now, but I survived, and most amazing of all, there were even moments when I genuinely thought, "This is kind of fun."

Who else can say that after visiting their own personal little Hell?]

Let's Dread: The Recap (Take Three)

So this weekend I ran my Dizney Zombies Dread adventure for the third (and probably final - though I'd be open to doing it again) time. This session was with some of the ol' Ghosty Teen gang, and it was pretty funzo.

There were only five players, which I think is my ideal number. It never felt too crowded or unwieldy and I don't think anyone spent too much time hiding safely in the background.

Also, the character choices were probably my favorite (after the dynamic duo of Gonzo and Mushu will never be beaten): Mary Poppins, Basil the Great Mouse Detective, Susan and Sharon from The Parent Trap (played by one person, a la the Ice Climbers in Super Smash Bros. Brawl), Jessie the Yodelin' Cowgirl and Dumbo.

Interesting because two characters are tiny enough to be carried around in one's carpetbag, one of whom is a doll, one character can't talk (but can fly), and no one brought along any weapons, unless you count Basil's mouse-sized rapier.

I mean, when the group's tank is a toy, you've gotta plan your battles wisely. Though, to be fair to Jessie, she was really effective - zombies don't tend to notice things made of cloth and plastic.

Still, scenes where I originally planned for several zombies I'd often reduce to one, because one was stressful enough.

In retrospect, maybe I shouldn't have gone easy on them. But I also think that working with numbers is tricky. If one is scary, is two scarier? Or does it dilute the horror? It's a good question. The single zombie propels them to a confrontation. If there were two or more, these non-fighters might choose to run, or avoid the situation, even though I ultimately needed them to move forward and accept the adventure.

Anyway, a more random collection of survivors I couldn't imagine, but survive they did... for the most part. The twins, sadly, did not make it to the end.

And for a group of non-gamers, a lot of their decisions surprised me, which is impressive. Nobody ever surprises me. I thought I'd seen it all and was prepared for any eventuality, but apparently not.

At one point in the game, the characters saved a number of Dalmatian puppies (this is probably my favorite and, according to the looks of anguish on most players' faces, most horrific scene of the game). Basil and Jessie decided to keep one apiece that they could ride as a mount. I allowed it, as something similar happens in both of their movies, and those Dalmatians have enough gumption to learn quickly. And the twins wanted puppies, too, because they are giddy girls who like cute things.

Then, later in the game, when the twins were being chased by the scimitar-wielding zombie Aladdin, they threw their puppies at him as a cruel sacrifice.

I was shocked. It was as if they, to quote Ben Linus, changed the rules.

I mean, it's a technically sound, even brilliant, tactic. It's just one that I'd expect from a blackguard like Scar or Captain Hook, not from Hayley Mills. But in a moment of terror, yeah, I could see it happening. And I like to think it was karmic justice that caused the Tower to collapse later on in the game, leading to the twins' own deaths in the final act.

That's an internal debate I have with Dread. Survival is determined by the whim of the Tower (unless a player chooses to make the ultimate sacrifice). In this game, the twins died "well," but in previous games, death was random. Unlike movies or books, the game kills without regard to story or character or justice. You're either good at Jenga, or lucky, or you pull a bum piece and die.

And yet, although I don't always like it, I understand. That's a part of horror. You've got no safety net, even the main character, the hero, the doll, the baby elephant, the magical nanny, they're all beholden to the Tower.

I tried to do the same thing in my book (and even though these games are played primarily for fun, in the back of my mind I'm always looking for ideas and possibilities I might have missed to go in the novel). I'm in charge of the characters' destinies, but I don't like the usual "main hero is invincible" idea. Especially in these dangerous worlds, virtue or skill might not be enough. A lot of the time, it's just random luck.

One of the biggest villains in the story gets a happy ending, while others are sacrificed. The survivors aren't great and mighty heroes, the Princes and Princesses of the world, they're the ones who just happened to survive.

(Yet on the other hand, I didn't have the heart to kill Dumbo. At least, not in the first draft. I figured he's suffered enough.)

As the old professor said in that Doctor Who Christmas special, "Of all the people to survive, he's not the one you would have chosen, is it? But if you could choose, Doctor, if you could decide who lives and who dies... that would make you a monster."

What does that make me, then?

Let's Dread: The Recap (Take Two)

Today was another fun-filled Recess event sponsored by NerdNYC.com, and once again I ran my Disney Zombies scenario.

It's the same one from last September (the survivors of a zombie apocalypse, holed up in Scrooge McDuck's Money Bin, are drawn out of their refuge by a mysterious message of hope) only this time with different players and characters.

This session saw Statler (one of the old Muppets who hangs out in the balcony), Wall*E, Eeyore, Quasimodo (The Hunchback of Notre Dame) , Launchpad McQuack (DuckTales and Darkwing Duck) and Abu (the monkey from Aladdin) struggle to decipher this message... and survive.

Not a bad bunch... but with Dread, it's never a bad bunch. It's all in how you play the character, really. Launchpad filled Gonzo's role of being a heroic person who screws everything up yet saves the day, and Wall*E was played with incredible sincerity.

Statler went out in a blaze of glory about halfway through the game (since every action is resolved through Jenga, players can choose to purposefully knock over the tower. This ensures their success in the action... but they die in the process). I suspect he did this because he was bored. Maybe the game wasn't to his liking or he felt frustrated with playing an old man Muppet, and that troubled me a bit.

On the one hand, you can't please everyone, and we still had five people who seemed to be having fun, but on the other, I hope my game wasn't that bad that he just couldn't take it anymore.

What was interesting is that someone from the September session (the awesome player who kicked so much ass as Mushu) wanted to play again, which means I kind of have a following, but he backed out when I explained it was the same scenario as last time.

I'm running this scenario at least one more time, next weekend with the folks who played the Ghosty Teens game (two characters have been selected: Mary Poppins and Basil of Baker Street, AKA The Great Mouse Detective). Having run it twice now, I'm pretty confident with the narration and stuff, and, more importantly, I'm not bored with it. Hell, I'd probably run it two or three more times. It's fun to Dread, after all.

I did, however, decide to run a different scenario at the next Recess. Still Disney Zombies, still Dread, but next time (and get ready for the awesome premise), it'll be about the poor souls who go on a suicide mission issued by Professor Ludwig von Drake (the leader of their refugee camp), to rescue (or destroy, if necessary) the single most important person to the survival of humanity.

Dread: The Recap

Playing Dread not once, but twice in one weekend was a pretty daunting (and amazing) task. I'd never run the game before, my Disney game wasn't that well-prepared, and most of the Ghosty Teens had no idea what an RPG even was, so I wasn't sure how things would turn out.

First, the Ghosty Teens. We had eight characters: a Leader, a Brain, a Beauty, a Bully, a Talking Beagle, an Idiot, and the Bully's Kid Sister. A good bunch, although I'd say eight is probably too many people for me to handle.

Even though they were unfamiliar with RPGs, most of the group was made up of experienced improvisers, and everyone took to it very quickly. The game, in fact, was pretty darn funny.

I love the use of questionnaires in Dread, it's a lot like an opening in an improv show where you get details that you can later use. For example, I asked the Brain, "You're related to a famous celebrity. Who is it, and why don't the two of you get along?" and he answered, "My stepdad is famed basketball player Shaquille O'Neal. He never listens to me and his inventions often work better than mine."

So that helped me right there - Shaq became an important NPC in the mystery (he is the owner of the Natural History Museum, in fact) - and it's little things like this that helped me realize I don't have to prepare a Dread game that much: I can just write an outline with a lot of blanks, and have those blanks filled in by the players' questionnaires.

The only thing worse than describing a convention is describing an RPG in detail, so I won't tell all about The Mystery in the Museum, but it was fun and came to a satisfying conclusion: The Beauty (long-haunted by the fact that she had to eat her little brother to survive) redeemed herself by shooting a gun out of the villain's hand.

I kept expecting the Jenga Tower to fall (since that's the thing about Dread - when someone knocks down the Tower, their character dies), but they made it through without any fatalities... except for the villain. The Bully tackled him and put a sack (containing a poisonous snake) over his head.

I am amazed and pleased that this game was kind of similar to our old Ghosty Teen shows.

As for Disney Zombies... this would be different. I'd be with experienced gamers, including someone who writes games for Call of Cthulhu. And I didn't want the game to be a run-of-the-mill zombie survival story with just Disney characters. And I wasn't as prepared as I'd like.

But it still turned out fine. We had seven players: Scar (from The Lion King), Clayton (from Tarzan), Sally (from The Nightmare Before Christmas), Gonzo (from The Muppets - technically he's not a Disney animated character, but he was too much fun to deny), Huey (from DuckTales), and Mulan and Mushu (both of Mulan). Seven also might be too many players for me: 4-6 is probably my ideal number.

I'd expected (and hoped for) some personality clashes between Scar and Clayton, the two villains, and characters that would never get along, since one is a villainous lion and the other is a villainous hunter. They both were prepared to backstab the other, but sadly, it never came to a pass (though there were several times Clayton showed me the note, "I'm going to shoot Scar.").

I'd like to keep this game's plot under wraps, since I hope to run it again as a short campaign instead of a one-shot, but it went really well.

Despite having zombie-fighting "tanks" Clayton (armed with a rifle and six bullets) Mulan (armed with a sword and 10 arrows), the heroes of the game were Gonzo and Mushu.

Gonzo, with his rocket-powered roller skates and a portable cannon he could use to launch himself, showed an insane amount of bravery (maybe you could call it recklessness), and showed even more heart. He'd often do things that seemed suicidal (I even asked, in a very unbiased way, "Wait... are you sure you want to fire yourself into that dark and scary courtyard?"), but true to character, always came out unscathed. And I was touched that he did his best to take care of a dying bird.

Mushu was the same, he'd often pull from the Tower with the intent to fail and die, but he successfully crawled up the pants of the Mad Hatter, detonated his stash of fireworks to blow up an entire zombie horde, knocked a chandelier on an approaching zombie, and used his shinju-kyo (spirit mirror) to save Huey's life.

Sadly, though, in the final moments of the game, someone knocked over the Tower. Sally was pulled under the many coins of the Money Bin (presumably by Scrooge McDuck), and her body could not be recovered.


Though the game ended with a victory for the players, it also ended with a big "The End?" and already, I'm thinking about getting another game together.

I Heart Dread (the RPG)

As mentioned earlier, this weekend will mark my return to running a gaming table, and not just once, but twice. So get ready, I'm taking a break from my nerdy Dragon*Con recaps to write about something even nerdier: role-playing games.

The name of the game is Dread, "a game of horror and hope," and I've been kind of obsessed with it for the past few months.

Instead of using stats and dice to determine a character's abilities and skills (which is something I've never really loved), characters are created by answering a unique questionnaire, and any sort of conflict resolution is decided by pulling a block from a Jenga tower. If the tower falls, that character is somehow removed from the game.

As the tower gets closer to collapsing, the game gets very, very tense. I love it.

Tonight's game is a Ghosty Teen Mystery, featuring some of the people who played in an improvised show of the same name. This'll be the first time any of them has played an RPG before, but gaming is basically the same as improvising, so I'm not worried.

Tomorrow's game is an idea I've been obsessed with for the past few weeks: Disney Zombies. I'm very psyched for this, and would like to do a short campaign set in this world. The players will play any animated character from a Disney show or film (within reason - no Hades or Willie the Giant). So far, people have expressed interest in playing Clayton from Tarzan, Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas, Tinker Bell and Darkwing Duck. It's gonna be good.

(Incidentally, I'd love to hear who you would play in a Disney Zombies game, since it'll help me prep for tomorrow. My choice is obvious; he's the greatest Disney hero of all time: Scrooge McDuck.)

I wish I could go into more detail for both games, but some of the players read this blog, so it'll have to wait until the recap.

And so, game on!

My Labor Day Weekend...

will be spent at Dragon*Con.

Flight and hotel is booked.

Year of Yes!

(And yes, I will be wearing at least one costume.)