Monday, October 6th, 2008
As I don’t want to mention the name of who did this. I’m going to tell the story as I imagine it happened based on what was relayed to me via the telephone. I think the real hilarity in this situation, regardless of how you feel politically, is the mental imagery of the actual act of the sign theft …
It’s a sunny afternoon in the suburbs of Philadelphia. The street is quiet, children are at school. Like many, this suburb is dotted with election signs, Republican in this case, unlike the city itself, which is mostly populated with Democrats.
A silver Hyundai with a sparkling license plate holder that reads “princess” stops at the corner. The vehicle is owned by the driver, a tall young woman who is dressed impeccably. She stands tall naturally, at about 5’7, but stands closer to 5’10 in her heels. She has a head full of fluffy, curly hair. She is smart, attending a good school downtown and extremely politically affluent. She has never pulled a prank, never done anything crazy and never signed a petition. She is a good girl and would never dream of doing anything brash or potentially upsetting. This is about to change. She is about to be overtaken by a moment of political insanity.
Suddenly she takes off running down the street (in heels) plucking McCain/Palin signs from the front of unsuspecting lawns. She runs daintily in the heels, almost as though she is speed-tiptoeing around a puddle or mess. She runs up and down the street twice, collecting a total of 13 signs, not stopping until she’s collected them all. The signs are overpowering and almost cover her face. She returns to her car, looks both ways, opens them the trunk, throws the signs in and drives away.
Much closer to the city, and further away from the scene of the signs, she gets out and pulls into a Rite Aid parking lot. She gets out, looks both ways and chucks the signs in the dumpster before driving into the proverbial sunset.
Friday, October 3rd, 2008
With Devin gone these last two weeks I’ve been reading a lot. I recently finished up Listening Is an Act of Love: A Celebration of American Life from the StoryCorps Project, a book I’ve been interested in for over a year.
I first saw the book last winter at Starbucks of all places and was immediately intrigued. I don’t know if this ever happens to anyone else, but sometimes I see a book and I’m immediately drawn to it. All winter long Maria and I would go to Starbucks and I would try to buy the book but stop because I didn’t have enough cash. I wasn’t able to purchase it for a long time, and when I finally did I ended up having to constantly put off reading it in favor of more pressing freelance projects.
The thing that’s fascinating about the StoryCorps Project is that they’re setting out to paint a picture of American life from the bottom up. At one point toward the end of the book Editor Dave Isay explains that history is always recounted from the most privileged and affluent, but StoryCorps will paint a picture of American life through the eyes of everyday citizens. I really like this concept because there’s so much rich culture in the lives of people who would otherwise be forgotten.
Some of the stories are happy, full of jubilation and a rich appreciation for life and work. Others are sad and deeply heartbreaking. I read at least four that so moved me to tears that I felt as though I deeply loved that person for sharing their story. The stories follow themes of family, love, dedication and struggle, and while there are many, they are only a small number of the 10,000 stories recorded as of the book’s publication.
I really can’t do the book enough justice. It’s completely compelling and I strongly suggest that you read it.
Wednesday, September 24th, 2008
I am having one of Those Days.
I woke up this morning at 6 a.m., screaming my head off after an utterly confounding and unsettling nightmare. I looked at the TV, because with Devin away I am a wuss and sleep with the TV on, and see Nicey Nash yelling at some messy homeowner’s child over their foolishness. This was a highly unsettling image after just waking up from a bad dream. I don’t know if I am going to be able to watch Clean House for the rest of the week now.
Work actually went by pretty swiftly and I celebrated Sushi Wednesday with the same glee and love I always give to raw fish wrapped in seaweed and ginger salad.
Until I realized my headset was missing. And my phone shut off exactly when Devin called, meaning I might not get to speak with him again until tomorrow. And I went to the sushi place, which is were I’m fairly sure I lost the headset, but they can’t seem to understand what a headset is which is making me very frustrated. And then I realized the headset cost $99 and have a $103 phone bill because my mother gets bored at work. Then the check engine light came on in my car, Bettie, and I told her that if she is out of coolant (again, in less than a week) I am seriously going to have a panic attack. Perhaps it is for the best that I don’t know how to check the coolant and have unrestricted access to Devin’s car while he is gone.
Right now I’m working on questions for an article I’m trying to turn around fairly quickly and trying very hard not to feel upset and frustrated. I need to find a shred of clarity or calm in this day or I am going to be in a sour funk by the end of the work day.
Monday, September 22nd, 2008
Recently, another of my articles for Comics Week went live: Antarctic Press: The Other Original Manga Publisher.
(Link opens in a new window.)
I’ve also updated the Comics Week section of my portfolio to include my most recent articles. I’m working on a new piece right now, and I’m excited. I hope to have it finished in a few weeks.
Monday, September 22nd, 2008
So here’s what makes me laugh about being a girl who likes “geeky things” and works conventions: guys seem to have a hard time grasping the concept that I exist and that I am not a Real Girl.
This is in some ways slightly endearing. It’s cool when I meet guys who tell me how much they like seeing girls get into comics and games, breaking down the stereotype that it’s only for men. It’s also fun when we chat about things their significant other (or in some cases daughters) might like so they can share their hobbies. I dig this, guys trying to find a way to make their interests accessible to women, even though I don’t believe in “female friendly” comics and games, I think there are titles that can work for just about anyone. I even find it to be somewhat cute when a guy is so blown over by seeing a real live girl at a convention that he stands there; slack jawed and stares at me. As long as it only goes on for a few seconds, beyond that it gets weird.
What is totally gross and creepy is when guys can’t approach me in person, and I assure you, I’m quite nice, but can talk a good game on the Internet. Today I this was called to my attention, I guess it’s in response to a video I was in briefly for an event Devin and I work at every year:
BlackKnight666
Girl in Video day one?
It may not be a dating service, but the girl in the video of day one giving out the passes at the end (the black hair) is beautiful and if not already seeing someone/married I would love to meet up one day…
Followed by this after the revelation that I am not available:
BlackKnight666
Ya, well a girl that hot will Always be seeing someone…
I’d just have to convince her that dating an older guy would be worth it… (100K peryear job, nice car, house, etc…)
Okay. First of all, I’m not attracted to people that stamp themselves with the number “666.” It may be your prerogative to be a baby-sacrificing-devil-worshiping-child-of-the-darkness, but I strongly advise you to keep this to yourself until multiple dates have passed. You may even want to leave this behind you entirely, unless of course you can find a fellow baby-sacrificing-devil-worshiper. Secondly, do not proposition me with money, on the Internet, in a random thread just because you think I won’t see it. The rule of thumb with the Internet is don’t write anything you don’t want someone to see, because they will see it. Your mom will see it. Your doctor will see it. Your ex-wife will see it and use it against you in a court of law. Also, all this tells me is you would never be able to speak with me in person and sure enough, once I responded no one else said a word.
And third? Don’t mess with a girl who spends a large chunk of her time playing video games and reading comics, let alone one who does it professionally.
Friday, September 19th, 2008
I tend not pay attention to sexism or sexist stereotypes but even I must admit that there is something I just don’t understand about men: why must they continually mess with our cookies?
On any given day I don’t eat much. I eat a granola bar for breakfast, usually a diet veggie pizza for lunch (or a salad) and usually have fish for dinner or if I’m feeling lazy a second diet veggie pizza. That’s not a lot of substance, and really its quite easy to feel like one is going insane when you’re always eating low-cal, low-carb, lowlowlow. It’s bird food really. So I get my kicks off two measly cookies a day. I love cookies. I am a freaking cookie addict. I actually have a song I made up about cookies. If there was a street brawl between the myself and the Cookie Monster over cookies it would be unbelievably ugly.
So I have a bag of chocolate chip and peanut butter cup cookies that I keep in the pantry and every day I get to eat two. I’ve sternly warned Devin, who has approximately 40,000 bags of chips in the pantry and salsa and these weird not-cookie-fake-cookie Hostess things that along with cockroaches, will survive the nuclear holocaust, not to eat my freaking cookies. Don’t even look at my cookies. They are not your friends; they are not there to please you. They are my slaves and will prostrate their cookie love to me and me alone.
Yesterday morning I dragged myself out of bed, yanked on a sweatshirt and waddled into the kitchen. I open the pantry door and there are no cookies. I distinctly remember yesterday evening, looking and seeing about four or five cookies before I left for work. This means they have been Eaten. Eaten and not by me.
So I do what any other human female in this situation would do. I got a running start and jumped on the bed, square on Devin’s back, put my face a mere millimeter from his and growled, “You ate the last of my f**king cookies.”
Devin opens one eye. Devin hates being woken up in the morning. It takes a lot to wake him up and the fact that he has an eye open is a sign he is greatly distressed. “Sorry,” he says and rolls over.
I proceeded to spend the rest of the morning sitting on his back, kicking him and not letting him sleep. This started at 7:45 a.m.; Devin wasn’t set to get up until 9:30 a.m. I feel as though it was a small slice of justice.
When I got to work I asked my co-workers, both guys who have had long-term steady girlfriends, if they would be foolish enough to eat a woman’s chocolate chip and peanut butter cup cookies after being forewarned not to eat them.
“Man that’s a tough call as I do love peanut butter,” said Jay. “I would probably do it but I would expect to pay. I would expect to pay for years to come.”
Cookie justice is tough Jay, tough indeed.
Thursday, September 18th, 2008
I’m sitting here, waiting for my diet veggie pizza to finish cooking, when I hear a commercial for “Windows Mojave” in the background. Knowing that Windows Vista is the most recent MS operating system I wasn’t paying much attention, blowing the commercial off as utter bunk.
Then Mr. Commercial Man tells the “Windows Mojave” tells the people in his control group that this is in fact, Windows Vista. Surprise! The control group seemed to balk and then tried to say how much the liked Vista and how surprised they were. Surprised that it was awesome!
As silly and forced as the commercial was I can’t help but laughing at the concept that the only way people are going to use Vista is if they are tricked into believing that they are not using Vista. That’s probably fairly accurate and I’m surprised MS actually created a commercial that acknowledges this fact. Let’s tell everyone the only way to get people to use our product is by tricking them. Way, to go, MS, just an utterly stellar marketing decision. I’m glad I have a Mac.
Now it’s back to watching Star Trek Voyager. The Klingons are fighting and mating in the mess hall.
Wednesday, September 17th, 2008
By the end of the day, everyone had scattered slightly. I was in Borders, my sister looking at shoes; my father golf supplies and my mother buy us slices of cheesecake for dessert. I was meandering through the graphic novels and magna, because I already have several novels I want to read when I slowly became aware that someone was starring at me.
A guy slowly slides up to me leans in, in what I can hope was his best attempt at seeming suave asked me what I was looking for. He smelled a little bad and seemed to have never seen a girl looking at comics before. He followed me with his gaze in a blatantly obvious manner that included not only turning his head but also turning his entire body. At this point it finally dawned on me that he was hitting on me. I had forgotten that I did not have a blinking red sign over my head reading “engaged” I had forgotten that people might hit on me; I had especially forgotten how to react.
“Are you looking for something specific,” asked Rico Suave.
(I frantically shake my head)
“Would you like me to recommend something for you,” said Rico, sliding close enough to either touch me or be punched in the gut.
At this point I did what any rational human being would not do. I ran away. I ran out of Borders, down the mall escalator (a huge feat in and of itself, as I am terrified of escalators) and straight to the Cheesecake Factory where I found my happy, if not slightly bewildered, mother with a slice of cheesecake for each of us. That was Saturday.
This next bit is going to forever cement my reputation as a concrete girl.
Sunday was supposed to be a relaxing day and it mostly was, about 90 percent. It would have been completely stress-free if not for the introduction of Eugene.
Eugene is a predator. Eugene may even be a sexual predator, because I can’t get close enough to tell if he is actually a he or not, and we all know that female praying mantis’ murder and eat the males after mating. Eugene is the largest praying mantis I have ever seen and is currently living above my door. This is not okay. This is so many levels of not okay. In addition to being a cannibal (possibly) and looking like an alien this thing can freaking fly and I am terrified he is going to jump square on my head. It’s making me itch and scratch just writing about it.
If it wasn’t for Devin, who is very upset by these threats, I would have already disposed of Eugene. I briefly considered getting the vacuum, which has a long attachment, and sucking him right out of my life. I know, in theory, that Eugene is a good bug and won’t bother me but that doesn’t make me any less terrified of him or any less desperate for him to go away.
In the event that he does jump on me I refuse to be held accountable for my actions. I’ve warned him, I’ve warned Devin. Yet, he still lives there, the little alien bastard and still looks at me every day when I come home from work. All smug like.
Needless to say he is still there and since Sunday every time I enter and exit the apartment I have done it while flailing and yelping and running up and down the stairs as fast as my short little legs will go because he is always sitting there looking at me.
I swear he smiles too.
Tuesday, September 9th, 2008
IT people drive me up the wall.
I’m engaged to an IT guy, most of my friends are IT guys and I am not an average computer user. I am not a 1337 super h4×0r, but I understand how to navigate and use a computer without breaking it, downloading a nasty virus or getting my identity stolen. As such I expect that our IT department should be able to have a basic conversation with me without talking to me like I am an eighty-seven year-old grandmother who is asking to “purchase some Internet’s.” By the bucket.
I find however that most IT professionals tend to assume that unless your role is somehow IT related that you are a knuckle-dragging idiot that deals with computers much the same way Ben Stiller’s character did in the film Zoolander.
Someone in my office, perhaps our cleaner (who throws away papers on my desk and steals from the candy box) or perhaps my co-workers themselves downloaded malware to my computer. It is really nasty malware masquerading as anti virus software that is in the registry and my measly spyware programs cannot destroy. I have not attempted to remove it myself because I don’t have the time nor do I want to be held unjustly responsible if IT judges the computer needs to be reformatted, which is going to have to happen anyway, but if I touch it first well then they will be all kinds of angry because they will deem it My Fault because I don’t have the vast and boundless IT knowledge they possess.
So, I’ve waited two weeks to get the thing looked at and today two people from IT. I quickly summed up the problem and gave them the name of the malware, a synopsis of my research on the net, and the IP address of my computer, all in the hopes of speeding this process along. IT guy number one proceeded to be super condescending and ignore everything I said, trying to tell me that he would walk me through using the TightVNC client so he could fix it, when the computer doesn’t have TightVNC and he fumbles on the phone; he clearly doesn’t know how to remote in any other way.
IT guy number 2 called and asked me to enable the remote desktop option, which was not enabled and as I’m sitting down to do it he proceeded to try to explain to me what the control panel was and where it was located.
“First, click the START menu; do you see it in the lower left hand corner?”
“I know exactly what the control panel is thank you very much, now can we move along?”
This was at about 9 a.m. this morning and he was supposed to ring me right back, which he hasn’t, and I’m sure he’s angry that I snapped at him and busy killing time on 4chan or LOLcatz as some kind of payback. It will probably take another two weeks to get this resolve and I have half a mind to bring in my own copies of XP and all the software and reformat the damn thing myself
Well kudos to you, snarky IT guys, for showing the world why so many of your brethren never go on dates outside simulated games from Japan.
Wednesday, September 3rd, 2008
I feel that I should mention that I do have a blog post in mind but I’ve been very stressed and very busy so I haven’t written it yet. And I have very little time. I am actually taking time I desperately need to do this right now, and as such might not have time to go to Wawa for a candy bar.
What’s especially ironic given my highly frantic mood and the fact that I actually spent yesterday afternoon screaming in my empty office (rest assured, it’s a large building, no one heard or was alarmed) I have been meaning to post about spirituality and meditation. I’ve been reading “Holy Cow” and enjoying it immensely, and had some things to say about her experiences in the book.
People who know what a neurotic scatterbrain I am will probably find it very surprising that I try to meditate quite frequently throughout the day and sincerely believe in spirituality. I’m also highly superstitious, but supposedly that’s an Italian thing. I guess you’ll have to wait and wonder because I probably won’t have a free second to draft up what I want to say until Friday.
Horary for adult responsibilities!
