A Week...

The honeymoon isn't over but the official vacation following the wedding is, er, it was on Monday.

My husband and my daughter and I went to a rather large and out of state role-playing and gaming convention last week.  This was to serve as our one big summer trip (rather than a theme park or camping out) and as our official "honeymoon" vacation.  Hint:  Ohio is not an extremely exotic location for a honeymoon, but staying in a hotel with two beds and 8 total people can make it so.

We had a good time, some of us might even say we had a blast.  Others of us (namely me) were somewhat disappointed by the loss of our first and second choice options as far as the gaming went.  Quickly choosing third options, I attended one average game far too early in the morning for me to be truly alert and followed that up by meeting a game master with no other players to show up the next morning.  He was very nice and helped me get a refund on that game ticket.  Yes, at this con (and at many others like it) I not only paid for my drive there, the hotel and its parking fees, the entry fee to the con (which because of my membership in a particular club, I got at half-price), I also had to pay for each game I wanted to be guaranteed entry to... thus the game tickets that are paid for in advance.  I'd also (rather wisely I thought at the time) bought a few dollars worth of generic tokens; this means that I can walk up to a game at the beginning, check with the game master if they still have room and will allow me to join in and get a seat if they are not already full.  When a person gains unused generic tokens from her two family members during the con because they are simply too busy to utilize them, what does she do with them?  She turns them in for cash!  Of course, I did not get to preregister on-line like originally planned because the husband and I (and most of the con goers it seems) assumed that the time for preregistering would last longer than a week (maybe it was literally two weeks, but I blew one getting the info from the computer on how to choose my game preferences).

There I was, bored and feeling kind of lonely with my husband in one room and my daughter in another, both much busier than me, gaming at a con to which I was a stranger in a strange city.  I tried the hucksters' room several times, I checked out the movie viewing room, I played a game or two of some tabletop stuff that I would never pay to play "in real life", as if my generic tokens weren't really made of money.  I did not get aggressive and go hunting other games' game masters and shove generic tokens in their faces until someone let me into their nearly full or overly full games.  I took a mystery novel and a bookmark to the food court or to the different quiet gaming rooms and absorbed the weirdness that is a gamer con.  I'd also come armed with some card games, just in case I wanted to set up an impromptu game in a hallway.  When I saw that all three of the games I'd brought were being offered in the tabletop game room for tokens or tickets, I felt kind of funny about offering to run them for free... it didn't seem fair somehow.  Then I started thinking that I might not know all of the rules and didn't want to embarrass myself in front of the possible players.

Now ask me what I will do to embarrass myself in front of others...

I did sign up for and attend all four nights of a LARP during the con.  There was a fifth night offered (that city's regular game) immediately after the con officially shut down, but we were leaving (and exhausted) that night so I didn't go - hadn't expected to.  I did enjoy those LARPs and loved meeting all of the people, both in and out of character.  Some of the outfits worn were just gorgeous and some served their characters very well - the ladies looked like ladies and the gentlemen looked like gentlemen, and the ruffians looked like... well, gorillas (you know who you are - "snort, snort").  During those nights, I ended up playing one character for a single night only (Friday) and another character all those other nights (Wednesday, Thursday, Saturday).  They both got some things accomplished (not all of them expected, had some surprises there), and enjoyed themselves for the most part.  Both have taken away some new tidbits of information or gained a new contact or something helpful.  All in all, a very profitable experience for them both (and for me).  That basically saved my whole con experience.  I even forgot all about the possible costume contest (heroes and villains, I think) and probably would have enjoyed seeing that, but missed out on it for whatever reason (probably a time conflict).

All of that explanation means that costumes were involved with my characters.  My Ventrue wore similar suits for two evenings and then a glorious golden gown with royal blue sash on the formal night.  Abi always involves heavy eye makeup and certain identifiable jewelry, usually silver or gold, rather rich looking and suffused with precious stones.  My Malkavian on the other hand is an unassuming friendly little thing that was visiting on the artists' night when everything went to hell in a hand basket.  She came rather nicely dressed (for her) in a long green dress and minimal jewelry; all mixed costume beads and plastics, precious metals and gems, flowery pink touches everywhere (keeps the demons away, don'cha know), her ever present butterflies and her gigantic pink bag (with more butterflies and flowers), hair done in a ponytail tilted to one side with crystals wrapped around it.  Yes, that's Lucy - and on a good night for her, a pleasant mood, no screaming (at least not until the rats showed up and ate the Justicar) to distract her.

I get totally into character as I am dressing the part - hair and makeup, dress and jewelry are all a large part of putting the character "on" for me.  So there I was, strutting around like a confident and elitist business woman or dancing about in unsure circles on where to go next as my crazy and loving ing'enue.  That's what I do to embarrass myself in front of others, and on purpose!

As the three of us (real life husband, daughter & self) were finally leaving the con and hotel, I requested that we sit down in a real restaurant to eat dinner together.  It didn't matter what kind of restaurant really, so long as we had time together to reminisce and sit back to ourselves.  Cracker Barrel never looked so good, but we still wish our favorite fish dish were back on the menu (yes, all three of us had a single favorite dish that we would habitually order at the same time, varying the sides and drinks).

We never got all the way through the book on CD that Dan selected for the car ride... he had to finish the story from the book he had at home so that I could return the CDs to the public library.  I still have to unpack the last of my things tomorrow.  It happens to be the Fourth of July tomorrow - thus I am off from work as is the husband.  Of course it is summer, so my daughter doesn't have to worry about her weekday schedule much until late August.  I hope it takes a break from raining long enough to appreciate the outdoors a little.  We haven't even planned what to cook for our meals at all... hope we don't go hungry!

Happy Independence Day, America.

I still love our Brit, Welsh, Scot and Irish friends, btw.

Didn't I mention getting married?

As of May 17th, a lovely warm Saturday with a perfect breeze, Mul and I were married. Yes... I take credit for choosing the date - all that time studying the Old Farmers Almanac, looking for spaces between the wet and the hot, making sure that the three different areas that converge near our town at least didn't contradict each other - I picked the window in which our wonderful weather occurred. Mul teased me about that mercilessly, trusting to the OFA for weather predictions - until that Saturday turned out perfect. Then he thought I was a goddess. Of course, it could have been the gown.

We wanted all of our guests to feel casual and comfortable. We opened up our house, worked in the yard for a month (dodging some incredible storms and rain) mowing and trimming and planting new stuff (and let's not forget the mulching), and had practically all of our important people out to see us. Only one couple could not make it to the wedding and they had excuses - number one, jobs; number two, a new kid (very small still - love you, Wolfie!). Everyone else we invited made it! That made for a total of 19 people, including the wedding party.

We had people start arriving around 9 a.m. to help with the floral arrangements and laying tables out at the back of the house (in the perpetual shade, near a wall, breaking any breezes) so that the food could be laid out later. Then the pastor and his family arrived, early enough to talk us through the last minute changes (at our request) to the ceremony. Our parents and Aunt Helen & Uncle Bob arrived next, toting champagne flutes (and champagne!), extra chairs, salad, deviled eggs, baked beans and our gorgeous wedding cake. Eventually everyone was outside on the deck, introducing themselves around.

I dressed in my silvery-purple gown with a matching wrap over my shoulders. My high-heeled gold sandals were definitely old (and were pampered with a professional re-heeling the week before). I'd bought a new corset (my admittance to vanity and an attempt at looking slimmer). I had borrowed my mother's (perfectly matching) earrings, and my blue engagement necklace in my jewelry box waited for the quick-change after the ceremony. Mul wore his fabulous tuxedo and a boutonniere of mixed garden flowers (he looked so cool, quite dashing). With my hair up in a clip, the breeze felt wonderful. We gathered our guests to a corner of the yard chosen for the shady backdrop (so that we might show up better on film). At approximately 11:15 a.m., our pastor was dropping quotes from The Princess Bride such as "Mawwiage" and cracking us up. Perhaps a parent or two didn't get the reference, but everyone else did. I loved it.

There were some great shots taken with both our provided disposable cameras and the cameras our guests had brought from home. We've ended up with about 160 photos on a website that we've shared with lots of friends. Mul created excellent captions or descriptions for each and placed them in an order that makes sense. He was great all throughout, kept his sanity and everything. My sanity had to be returned to me later during the reception by a friend, dear enough to have held on to it for me all that time. She was the one who got to see me panic about the makeup mess I'd made and help me into and out of the corset so that I could at least feel like I looked thinner (even though the photos show a curve to my a$$ that looks distinctly like a bustle - note: I was NOT wearing a bustle). Mul and I (and the pastor because he didn't want to be caught on film drinking beer in his collar) ran inside to change clothes and help bring the food out.

Our mothers were wonderful, setting everything out for the buffet. My friend, the florist, even made an impromptu arrangement with the rest of the fresh clippings and placed them in a colorful vase with matching ribbon for the table. Our wedding cake was decorated in the purples and matching fresh flowers of our theme. The hot food stayed hot and the cold food lasted long enough for everyone to enjoy it. The champagne was ever lasting and the cake tasted better than I could have hoped. Even da Boyz got in on the act. The skinny one serenaded the crowd with his Siamese opera tenor. The pudgy one sniffed everything inside the house, inspected the baby's diaper bag thoroughly for security purposes, and attempted to be cute (pretty much a 9.9 there, he's nothing but cute). Everything was genuine and enjoyable.

My parents took off first. Then Mul and I opened the presents that weren't supposed to exist (we've been together for years, we didn't need new towels or another coffee maker), making sure to have someone take photos so that my parents would be able to see the fun later. We have a beautiful garden bench (which some saint of a guest put together for us), a fantastic new cookie jar (looks like a dragon defending the entrance to its mountain horde), and a couple of nice checks to help cover the expenses of everything. We plan to enjoy a gaming convention in a month as our honeymoon (with my daughter, now his step-d) for the full week... the checks will be very helpful for the gas purchases and souvenirs.

Then my daughter and I introduced our friends to a family yard game that was given as a gift. You may have seen something like it at a Target called Ladder Golf. This predecessor was termed Hillbilly Golf by its enthusiasts. Several new fans were born that day. Then we just sort of sat around in the yard, shooting the $h!t, drinking wine or beer and telling stories on each other. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves and the tour of the house. It was a glorious day. Did I mention that we got married?!?

After everyone was gone and my daughter went to stay the night with my parents, Mul and I took off for our regular LARP, hefting the leftover plastic cups and napkins. We treated our other friends to half a wedding cake (just one layer, we kept the rest in the fridge all that next week) and two bottles of champagne. They thought it was a nice treat and considered us rather "core" for showing up on our wedding night. We met through a LARP - it seemed appropriate to go and we had a lot of fun being teased by our buddies about my possible name change (which I haven't).

We finally got around to the thank you notes tonight (still have to finish them and get them mailed). Our garden is blooming (even more so than two weeks ago). We'll be sure to take photos and share them with all of our wedding guests so that they can see what we'd been intending. My mom (poor dear) got the ceremony on video and has managed to (she's really very sorry) either erase it or tape over it when trying to (she didn't mean to) save it to a DVD. Since that was the most of our wedding disaster, I am VERY relieved. Everything else went so smoothly, it was easy to forgive her. We have our wonderful photos and website, the pastor is going to send me a copy of everything he said during the ceremony, and my scrapbook is waiting for a new (rather purple tinted) entry. I'll save that for this weekend.

Time... it's gettin' away!

So the little girl is suddenly 13.  Hmm... not sure how to feel about that.  I'm certainly proud of her and want her to grow into the woman that she CAN be... I just don't know who it is that she wants to be.

Sometimes she hates me - that's natural for teenagers.  And sometimes I am her best friend - but I shouldn't be.  That's a job for one of her peers, not her mom.  Yet I love her and like her (cause she's interesting and brilliant and creative and kind but sarcastic so it's not a gooey, sticky-sweet kind of "kind" - more like a "zing from across the table" kind because you know she only teases those that she likes.  Why waste intellectual energies on someone you don't even care for?) and want only good things for her.  If I can make her happy and it merely takes my presence and some time, by gosh, I can do that!

She's been creating these fabulous fan-fics on Halo characters and has some in the works for her favorite JLA characters next... she is SO cool!  We spent the evening at the art museum, discussing what "art" is (and isn't), what "craftsmanship" is, and what crap is.  We had a lovely time, pointing and going "hey, look at that!" and leaning (far too) close to the cases to absorb the details and reading the description plates.  We walked leisurely through the shop, testing the toys and flipping through the posters, looking at the beautiful books and stationary, joking about some of the very expensive jewelry that looked like a first grader made it.  In shorter terms, we had a ball.  I especially appreciated her enthusiasm for the arms and armor section in the medieval rooms.  - Never saw her crane her neck that way in front of a porcelain vase or a watercolor.  Heh.  My little girl.

Hm.  Let's take that term and break it down.  If someone referred to me as their "little girl", I'd think they were stupid.  I am neither little nor a girl any longer.  Mul has the right (by biased preference) to call me his girl or "the" girl in his life, but that's more like a "grrl" reference.  Like in Gamer Grrl.  My daughter, being thirteen years old now, is not exactly little anymore.  She's nearly adult - give or take a few legal years.  This is the point of her serious woman-training.  Now is the time that she becomes prepared for sanity-rending heartbreak, disappointment in the truth, learns that neither of her parents (nor anyone else she admires and believes in) is either perfect or immortal, AND deals with the most awkward physical phase of her life.  Sheesh!  Wouldn't any one of these things be enough to bring a good person down?

I love my daughter.  I wouldn't want anything to harm her.  That's why I have to let her get hurt once in a while by the natural stages of life that won't permanently impair her.  No, I don't want her to be involved in a nasty car accident and Yes, I would avoid the situation completely if I could help it.  But that is not up to me.  If a car accident is in the works for her, I want her to be confident in her abilities, cool-headed enough to deal with a crisis, thoughtful about other people and creatures to care for their welfare, and aware in situations that can result in damage so that she can come to decisions (on her own) that result in less strife that if she had chosen some other direction.  She's a very bright kid (and I use that term endearingly) and I hope she chooses wisely in all things - but that's not going to happen.  Using another example:  I don't want her love life to be messy - wouldn't we all be happier finding the perfect person in high school and marrying them after college to endure 75 years of wedded bliss?  (Too perfect, I know, it can't happen.)  Most people don't get it right in their first serious relationship.  So I will bite my tongue and hold my breath and beat my head against the walls to not say the exactly wrong things as she moves from whatever relationship she did have for a while to the next one, no matter how much one seemed better over another to me.  (Ugh, I'm going to eat those words later, aren't I?)

I fell in love a couple of times - at least I thought I had.  Decisions are made for lots of reasons, and sometimes for no good reason at all.  The first time I thought of myself as loving a man, he was heroically masculine, protective, mysterious, full of laughter, a great lover and kind of boyish when alone and allowing himself to seem vulnerable.  Nice mix, huh?  It took a long time to see that he was this way with all women - not that he flirted around or cheated on me.  He simply had that persona "on" all the time.  When he was with "the guys" he was drunk or high, too talkative about personal things, ready for a fight (physically); in short - a wound-up misogynist waiting for a trigger to be pulled.  I left him (or he left me) because I didn't want the lies (no matter how attractive) and I didn't want him the way he really was.  I wanted him as he seemed (or had seemed to be) - all virtuous and manly and concerned about honor.  Ah well... a friend of mine got him - then divorced him to marry his former best friend.  Not what I would have wished for anybody much less this man I had once admired.  He wasn't a bad guy, don't get me wrong.  He just set himself up so high in his own standards that he couldn't compete with his image once he came back to earth with his buddies.

The next time I wondered if I was in love it took a long time to admit it.  You see, he and I had years together... dating and seeing each other through college... me healing from my previous relationship and him being doormat enough to care for my selfish feelings - letting me dictate when we could see each other and what we were allowed to do.  I know he loved me or he wouldn't have respected me so much as to allow that to happen.  I was awful to him, I just didn't recognize it at the time.  Then, we had a baby - oops.  Yes, that would be the precious thirteen-year-old.  We waited several years to make sure that we were not marrying simply for the "sake of the baby" or succumbing to our parents' pressure.  Then, once we were married, we seemed happy for a year (maybe more).

In that second year though... I don't know what happened and when.  If I wanted to bring up what I thought was an important subject, he could veto it, choosing NOT to talk about it because we couldn't agree on what was important (like money issues, vacation as a family, his satisfaction or lack thereof at his job, health problems, the relationship between him and his daughter).  At least we agreed that his relationship with his daughter WAS one of the important subjects and he worked on that diligently.  Because their relationship is so improved, I wonder if my relationship with her has suffered.  But I digress.  During this unpleasant time, I found myself falling in like and then in love with Mul.  A frightening prospect - me, tempted to see this man who was not my husband.  We were only together in social situations as first, surrounded by other friends.  Then our discussions became more about our lives and wishes, art and pleasantries than just our common hobby.

It took me many months to find my lopped off head much less screw it back on.  Between giving up my marriage and increasing the time between me and the "other man", I was going crazy.  I tried talking to a lot of friends and family members, not the least of which had been my spouse.  But his answer was a very distracted one, fed by his insecurities about his parents' marriage.  So there I was, condemned by all (including myself) and yet blissfully happy in Mul's presence.  It wasn't a fair situation for anybody, especially my spouse.  He tried (just the once) to ask if there was any repairing our relationship/marriage.  I told him that it would be too little and too late.  Perhaps that was cruel of me, but BY GOD I meant it.  I had attempted to engage him so many times over those six months or more to talk to me, get counseling with me, let me go to counseling without him if he insisted, whatever could help us.  That's what I ended up doing... going to counseling for myself, hoping to make any sense of my feelings and my intentions.  Why did I want to leave my husband?  I didn't really - I just wanted him to act, talk and be different.  That's hardly fair for a decent guy to answer to... he never faked anything for me.  He simply wanted certain things less than I did and felt that his answers were the best ones (if not the only ones).

Now Mul... there's a mensch!  None of these men were poor picks on my part.  They were all attractive, intelligent, creative, manly (in their own ways), and giving (to a certain point).  But Mul is my soul mate... at least he has been since I met him.  Six years, nearly... we're getting married in May.  I'm extremely nervous about it.  I'm terrified that he's making a big mistake.  I'm hoping that I am not sabotaging his life by chaining him down.  I want to be a woman who deserves his thoughtfulness, kindnesses, attention, efforts to make me laugh, his touch... I could definitely go on.  I just don't know if I am familiar enough with that woman well enough to become her.

Thus my comment on who my daughter will one day want to be - what kind of a woman she will become.  How do any of us know how to grow up?  What class is taught or lesson learned that teaches us who we will be?  Am I now an honest person?  Not completely - not all the time... but I would like to be.  Am I virtuous and classy and kind and thoughtful?  No, not necessarily.  My porn preference fights the debate against virtue and class very nicely, and I prefer to be selfish and self-absorbed... it takes a lot less effort than thinking about what other people want or are affected by.  Do I deserve Mul?  No.  That's the easy answer.  Why not?  Much harder.

I love him, that's all I know.

Comics Revisited

Just listened (skipping around a lot, I admit) to a podcast from ComicDorksCast.Blogspot.com... first episode 1 to hear their intros and then episode 3 because I saw on a menu that they mention Y: the Last Man.  Interesting.

I am so out of the collecting phase.  I used to work at one comic store (now defunct) at which I had been a regular customer.  I'd already been collecting, thus I was simply feeding my own frenzy by getting an additional discount (which got totally used up on NEW titles to collect rather than helping me save money on the titles I was already collecting - yeah, I was an addict).  Of course, I was also able to afford really cool gifts for my buddies at Christmas/birthday time (or what we used to think of as cool - boxed Star Trek ship models, Vallejo and Olivia art card collection pieces, character pins).  The next comic store I'd worked at was much more upscale, cleaner, friendlier and a wholesome environment for female clientele (much less an employee), and that's totally due to the manager and his choice of staff.  He's a great guy.

When I went away to college, I wasn't working (my parents were very cool about ensuring that I would not have to, at least when two hours away from home - I worked while I was local and in junior college) so I didn't have the extra cash for my fix (man!) and had to pare down my collecting to purely Batman titles (there were several of course).  Since college, I guess "life" caught up with me.  One of the stores I had frequented had gone out of business, one had relocated and the nice store that I'd worked at lost its great guy-manager, so I purposefully boycotted it.  A very bad move by the owner - he had an arsenal of bad moves and some slightly illegal ones, at that.

You know, having a kid and working full time really takes the wind out of a girl.  I'm glad that most of the important parts of my collection (full series runs that I still reread, special mini-series' that I like and share with others) have been tolerated by both my parents and my live-ins when I've had to move the many boxes.  Mul even built a special shelving unit just for my comic boxes (he is so sweet) out of extra wide planks and brick stacks.  I've recently reintroduced myself to the collection, pondering what I could release (sell, give away, share with my daughter) and what I really, really didn't want to get rid of.  Always a tough decision.  Not only do I still like so much of the actual work, there are many purchases and items that are tied up with my memories of those friends that I shared them with and the whys or whens that I got them (having the writer & artist of one comic sign their tour shirt for me - still have that one).  But I love my public library and nearby bookstores and still visit the occasional comic shop/gaming store.

Most of the collections I started were by accidental discovery.  I would find a book and flip through it with curiosity, like it, realize that it was the middle (or end) of a series and have to go finding the origin just for OCD sake.  Then I would love the progression (Y: the Last Man) or art (Mai, the Psychic Girl) or the character itself (Ambush Bug) and want to get all that I could on them.  Very rarely is it that I would know of something about to come out and be determined to get the series right from the start (El Diablo).  Once in a while, one collection would lead to another - example:  from Mai, the Psychic Girl to Crying Freeman to Sanctuary (all manga that's been reprinted with translations).  Some of my X-Men stuff led to my going back for the mini-series on Kitty Pryde and Wolverine (yes, that same mini-series that everyone seems to have reported hating - my excuse is I was 15 years old).  A particular image of the Enchantress in an Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe (like a who's who) led me to investigate the Dazzler series (loved it, got it all).  Jokes or secret references in one series could lead me to look at others (I traditionally don't like crossovers, the biggest exception being Teen Titans and X-Men in a single shot - it is awesome) like Munden's Bar, GrimJack, Badger, Whisper, Dynamo Joe and Jon Sable, Freelance (all originating from either Capital or First Comics).

Why don't I collect comics now?  I'm still paying for my car, my house, my daughter's college fund (and ignoring my Roth since I can't afford all of that at once), clothes, food, utilities, etc.  If only I could afford to smoke three packs a week - then I could quit that and spend the money on comics!

I get to overhear my daughter enjoying her webcomics every now and then.  A chuckle, a snort, a peal of laughter, an "omigawd" and here I am on the couch, looking over my shoulder at her back, wondering what I'm missing.  So I try a bit of Charby or a Vampirate or whatever.  Nope - it just doesn't translate for me.  I'm definitely a mainstream hero or antihero fan.  Even when they're covered in fur and feathers (Xanadu).

What do you read?

Sci Fi Amendments

Let's talk reality for just a minute. I spouted off about the "good" and the "mediocre" science fiction or supernatural shows that either are on the air today or have been in the past. I was wrong on a couple of counts, I admit it.

I still love Summer Glau but Terminator: TSCC is no longer on the good list (sorry everybody involved, it's just not that great) and has slipped to mediocre (at best). Perhaps it was my anticipation (re: blind hope for the show to be as good as the movies, and I liked even number three by the way) or my stubborn streak to defend milady Glau's feminine and feminist honor that got in the way initially. It never should have been listed as one of the good shows... I was just really hoping it would deserve to be.

The poll was rather unsuccessful... not even Mul (my fiance') answered it! I listed some obvious sci fi choices there that I wouldn't touch with a 10 foot LCD flat screen (esp. Doctor Who). No one took the bait and color me surprised. But then I've yet to receive any responses or comments yet from my blog posts, so I must live on - tortured in my anonymity.

Watching a lot of 4400 and CSI (the original, not NY or Miami or anything like that - just Vegas - the best one) right now... and Hitchcock movies (Suspicion, Sabotage, Rebecca, we own To Catch a Thief and some others). I love my local public library!

Speaking of the library, I found out that card holders can request old TV shows on DVD now... like the Dukes of Hazzard, Cosby Show, Columbo, Wonder Woman (Lynda Carter, kid you not!), Bosom Buddies, Fantasy Island and WKRP in Cincinnati. But don't bother trying to get Angel or Buffy seasons... I could only find ONE season of Angel available (and thank goodness it was season three because "Waiting in the Wings" is in that season with Summer Glau!) and NONE of the Buffy episodes, even though there are graphic novels that I didn't even know existed available.

Enough waxing poetic on the public library system, except for one more thing. I love the graphic novel series called Y: the Last Man. It's awesome so far, I have only read into book number 5 so far and will be ordering all of the others that I can from (you guessed it) my local library. If I understand the rumors correctly, this year the series ends! Supposedly the last of the 10 big books was out in January, yay. There are already discussions about possible movies (a trilogy with Shia Labeouf) in the works. So I still have a ways to catch up, but if I do so and then have to wait for the finale because the library system hasn't seen fit to keep up with it, that'll grate a bit. Anywho... back to book 5.

Thanks for reading. Respond to something or I'll start wondering why I type this stuff in the first place. Certainly not for Da Boy's amusement!

Sci Fi and Television

I believe I've mentioned that I'm a Science Fiction fan. Tonight I watched the 2 hour premiere of Knight Rider.

...

nuff said.

I've enjoyed more action and plot out of B-rate Godzilla movies (the 60's-70's versions from Japan with English subtitles). The voice of the new Kitt is just disappointing. HAL had more personality. I cannot and will not believe that I was listening to and cringing at Val Kilmer's voice. That's what everyone's telling me, but he's so much better than that!

The actor/driver is a VERY attractive, sweet guy that just can't carry the show all by himself. The actress/scientist is supermodel gorgeous (not related to Rene Russo) and thankfully CAN act, but has such atrocious dialogue she can't do anything with it. Now let's get to Ms. Poitier... acting as their FBI connection.

This poor lady, sprung from such loins as Oscar-winning Sidney Poitier, gets to announce (quite blatantly) in the first two minutes of her appearance that she is a lesbian. Since when does being a lesbian add personality? Is that something that could have been revealed over time or with some amount of subtlety - maybe when she's shown in a relationship rather than a one night stand as her bed-guest implies? The rest of her character is expressed by having her trail after the elusive heroes and their talking car and die in the last half hour of the show. Well, at least her horror stops there and she doesn't have to be further associated with this tripe. What? You mean I was wrong? It was somebody else who got shot and died? Oh, sorry. Oops, I guess I'd given up paying a great deal of attention to the show by that point (when your enthusiastic watchers have tuned out at the shooting parts, it's got to be pretty bad).

So the token black (lesbian, let's not forget) female FBI agent is still with the show and slated for more episodes beyond the pilot? Awww... that's too bad. She REALLY needs to work hard to live up to her father's name - or maybe she should have dropped it from the credits so that she could fail on the show's merits (er... lack thereof) and not carry around the embarrassing stigma of ... hm... well, getting caught up with a really bad show, and we'll just leave it at that. Hopefully she can prove to us all (much, much later and with better options) that she has the acting gene. I note that she's got lots of minor acting credits to her name already but she's got nothing to work with here, that's certain.

Again, the jokes from Miss Congeniality aside, why do women who perform masculine duties (like being cops or agents of the government with sidearms) have to be assumed lesbian - it's ingrained? If it looks like a bull dyke and talks like a bull dyke and acts like a bull dyke... why then it must be a woman performing a duty that is usually assumed to be that of a man. Am I the only person who thinks that an individual's sexual identity and preference have nothing to do with their choice of career? Interesting.

No, to wash the nasty taste out of my mouth, I offer a list of television shows (individually conceived or based off a movie or other series) that have a distinct supernatural or science fiction quality that made them memorable or worthy.

Good shows: Quantum Leap, Babylon Five, Star Trek (and ALL it's incarnations and spin-offs are included here - we can discuss the individual series' at a later time), Time Trax, Sliders, Alien Nation, Buffy, Angel, SG1 (that's Star Gate One for those that don't know - pronounced ess gee 1), Earth 2 (from 1994, lasted one season), Firefly (one of the best), Third Rock from the Sun (but I watched that one for the funny - nothing but the funny), Roswell, John Doe (with Prison Break's Dominic Purcell), Smallville, Voyagers!, and Terminator: the Sarah Connor Chronicles (good gosh, they could have come up with a better, shorter name than that, surely!).

Mediocre shows or those that I watched in my childhood and remember fondly: the Bionic Man/Woman/Dog/Girl (a TV movie starring the regulars plus a very young Sandra Bullock - so CUTE!), the Misfits of Science (OMG very early Courtney Cox), Andromeda, Farscape, Max Headroom, Lois and Clark (not nearly enough science), Birds of Prey (with the fantastic Dina Meyer), I even remember Space 1999 and the Tomorrow People (slightly). All of these shows were better than the pilot of this new (and improved because it's a Ford Mustang mind you) Knight Rider.

Classic Sci Fi shows that are in a class all by themselves: the Outer Limits, Amazing Stories, Night Gallery, the Twilight Zone, and X-Files (yes, I include X-Files as a necessary primer to Sci Fi for the junior fan of today).

Now for the more interesting question: What shows did I NOT list here and was it on purpose? Take the poll at the bottom of the screen... we'll see.

*sigh* So I guess I'm done. Surely there are other shows that you'll want to discuss or some from above that you'll want to debate. Let me know.

Objectionable Material (?)

I’ve finally discovered an issue I consider moving or important enough to blog about as a response. I’m still feeling rather emotional about it so the language may end up fraught with descriptive terms that seem out of place. Give me a few paragraphs to catch a hold of myself.

I work at a library so I am constantly exposed to media, literature, art and periodicals that I’ve never taken note of before working there. For example, in the non-fiction section we barcode and shelve magazines. In seeing so many different periodicals pass my desk, I have found that the last interior page of a magazine often has a short editorial related to the theme of that issue or expressing a measure of humor or facts from history. The most recent issue of Ms. Magazine (it's a quarterly, winter 2008, arrived today) has a special last page like that… called No Comment. I am damn well making a comment about this one.

Let me start off by admitting that I have never had the inclination or the opportunity to scan through an issue of Ms. before. It just happened to be on the bottom of the pile I was bar coding today and as I slowed down my work, I peeked at the last page – simply curious. Arranged on the white page were three separate items of interest.

The upper left item is an image of a boxed figure, as if ready for retail sale. It’s Hillary Clinton as a nutcracker called (appropriately enough) the Hillary Nutcracker. The packaging boasts that she has “stainless steel thighs” and “cracks toughest nuts”. The (not extremely) recognizable figure has a toothy smile, blonde hair and a big political button displayed upon her fashionable blue suit. Of course, that’s not all but I don’t want to spoil it for you. Obviously, the closeness of the primaries and her bid for presidential office makes this a time-sensitive icon, possibly to become more popular or appreciated if Ms. Clinton should be successful in her endeavor. I thought it was great. Noting that the marketing company’s address was listed, I assumed that this novelty item was for sale. I wanted to look into the possibility of purchasing one and anticipated a look at their website upon my break.

The bottom half of the page is taken up by an ad for Svedka Vodka. It shows off a very cool feminized android figure called a fembot with the text “Make your next trophy wife 100% titanium”. The smaller image of the product is accompanied by the slogan “Voted #1 vodka of 2033”. I am a huge fan of sci-fi and found this very clever.

The last image on the page (upper right) is the ad from Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, an episode of which I will be watching in about 5 minutes. It’s the torso and head of Cameron, the teenaged female Terminator unit, a starring character of the new show. She’s played by an idol of mine (and my 12-year old daughter’s), Summer Glau – dancer and actress. She takes roles that show females (young admittedly, the lady’s only 26 now) as strong individuals – even if they are the mentally and emotionally vulnerable victims of pursuit by an overwhelming government force. Our household loves Summer Glau and her work, and I always find this image of her attractive. It may be the show’s character suspended from metal rods and wires, her endoskeleton showing from underneath her fake skin, but the light on the profile of her face and the admirable expression is breathtaking and purely Summer’s skill as a physical actress showing through.

So why were these three ads placed together on a page called No Comment? I made a quick assumption about the human(oid) subjects of the ads. The three female images all portray some form of strength (even it’s from electrical impulse driven hydraulic power) and are fake women as far as icons created to sell a product (the nutcracker novelty, vodka, a TV show). I didn’t think much beyond this assumption and planned to investigate further later.

Eventually I take a break at my desk and pick up the Ms. Magazine. Reading more carefully now, I see that there is an explanation to the purpose of the page. It’s to badger the manufacturers and publicity companies about their “objectionable ads”. The reader is further requested to report objectionable ads to Ms. through the editor of this page (No Comment – funny, that title, considering this novel I’m writing).

Interesting how a woman (who appreciates the female form & spirit and associates any image of a “strong woman” with the strengths of character, mind and body that Hillary Clinton and Summer Glau personify) decides to make her first complaint about the stereotyping of women to a medium that claims to defend the rights of women. In fact, I was most concerned when I first saw the front cover, a photo of a woman muted by a tape gag X’d across her mouth. Never one to promote violence against women as a matter of depersonalizing them or making them less human by removing her ability to defend herself or respond, I found this cover photograph objectionable. If ever there was an image that I identified as demeaning to women, this would be it. But I understand the point of the article and agree that the statement made by muffling the woman on the cover is both profound and provocative.

The Hillary Nutcracker novelty isn’t funny when you realize one of the other statements made on the box. It’s “Is America ready for this nutcracker?” If she is the right person for the job, then it doesn’t matter whether she is female or male. Gender is NOT a reason to either dismiss or choose a candidate for leadership – simply their ability to perform in the office to which they were elected. I take offense that someone is using such a creative toy/tool to promote the idea that one of America’s female candidates for president is somehow a destabilizing force simply because she’s got ovaries. This toy/tool would not be funny if it were Britney Spears depicted. Why? Because B. Spears is NOT a strong representation of womanhood… she’s an embarrassment. Hillary C. on the other hand can do more than hold her own. She’s strong enough (however you want to take that adjective) to be the impetus for this toy/tool and makes it both thought-provoking and funny. She can survive this. Besides, the joke doesn't work with the male candidates.

The android vodka seller is an obviously fake (but attractive) female. Her mechanics are showing at each joint and the shiny plastic body forms of her torso, forearms and butt cheeks emulate, but do not convince us of, the soft fleshly exterior of a human woman. There’s an expression on the face but it’s truly inconsequential – knowing that she represents the trophy wife (a reputation for women who are ultimately inconsequential themselves without representing her mate/husband for his benefit) who are often depicted as botoxed, liposucked, acrylic-nailed and bleached blond proves just how fake she is supposed to appear. The text nearby is more disturbing. The single word that I found offensive was “next”, as if a gentleman should expect to have more than one trophy wife in his lifetime. Now the stereotype of trophy wives are cruel and dehumanizing, but let’s face the facts… most stereotypes are based off of some event or trend in reality and we all have a certain standard in mind when the term is said.

Now we come to the image of Cameron, another fake and mechanical woman. But this one isn’t obvious. She was designed to accurately impersonate an attractive but average high school teen. Her purpose is to protect the life of an average (for now) high school teen who happens to be male (John Connor). She’s like the secret service going to college with Chelsea Clinton in that she’s meant to blend in with the surroundings and not disrupt the place too much. So how much more disturbing is the “passing” fake woman than the obvious one? Not. Cameron is a machine but has programming to allow her to function as a human, mimicking emotions and varying her reactions. You just have to remind yourself once in a while that her lack of a heart doesn’t mean that her central processing unit isn’t in the right place.

Why are any of these images of strong women on this list? Because one makes fun of a political incumbent? Because one plays off of an artificial woman stereotype? Because one strips the mask off of the underlying fake woman, proving that we are a gullible society and are capable of being fooled by a veneer of false femininity? Hm.

Would the readers of Ms. also find images of transgenders or cross-dressing men objectionable? These could be considered fake females… in imagery anyway. How insulting. What am I to make of the opinions expressed by exposing these three ads as objectionable? That strong women are offensive? That because a female is fake, or can pass when she's faking, that she is against the grain or flaunting the standard? I SOOO do not agree. What kind of a stereotype are you promoting, Ms. - women have to fit within certain parameters to be acceptable?

Whoo boy, I’m about tapped out. I’m emotionally drained and it’s late. I’m tired of ranting and to spin a bit of fairness in the direction of Ms. Magazine, I appreciate the opportunity to send their last page editor my nomination for objectionable ad. When I find one.

The Patience of a Man

My fiance' is a doll.  He's got the patience of an enlightened Buddah, just not so chubby.

Every once in a while (three or more times today, and counting), I go completely crazy.  He's watching the Superbowl game (darn those Giants) and I'm blurting out obnoxious things like, "Why isn't my password working?  The computer isn't letting me into my account."  So what does he do?  He gets up from what he is enjoying to see why I'm harping.  Then he makes several (seemingly banal at the time) suggestions as to what I might try to alleviate the problem.  When I fuss at him for my own incompetence, he (politely) tells me off for being shrewish and states simply that he could go back to what he was doing... unless I want his help.  At that, I feel foolish and ask him to help.  Going over all of the options of error-making, I convince him that it couldn't possibly be a user-made problem.  In fact, I defended myself explaining how I would have avoided all of those suggested and common pitfalls.  Then...

I suddenly realize what I had done and freeze up like a deer in headlights.  He notes that I'm startled into catatonia and asks if I'm alright.  Then I have to blush from annoyed shame, type in the alternate password I'd set up originally, see that it works and hang my head before (using the smallest and most humble voice with which I can eat crow) apologizing to him.  I was such a bother!

He's not without faults, really.  There's a temper to speak of and he plays with his cowlick when he's agitated or excited about something (most recently that all-important football game).  But to me, he's my hero and best friend.  And I don't deserve him.  Nope, not even when I bring him dinner so he doesn't have to get up from his turn at the computer.

I love you Mul.  Abore 'pa zin.

Trying out my first post

Surely there's a purpose behind every posting in a blog... the writer has something to say (obviously) that the world needs to hear (er, read).  I have created this blog in answer to my fiance's blog, Misanthropic Codswallop.  If you should end up reading his posts, you may note references to "the fiancee'" - me.  He's my best friend, the most exhilarating man I know, and I happen to be in love with him.  He's also something of a smart ass with an impression that everybody should want to hear what he has to say.  Considering how wrong he is on so many issues, I wonder sometimes why I do in fact want to hear what he has to say.  I am his biggest fan.

He (for some unfathomable reason) seems to like hearing what I have to say.  Thus... I share my Mental Popcorn with the world.  Mental Popcorn is anything that you can enjoy without a lot of effort... romance novels, action based comic books, the Ellen Degeneres Show, Mythbusters (though the experiments can result rather impressively), et cetera.  I am neither addicted to posting nor interested in writing everyday, turning this into a public diary and making me wonder if some writers aren't perhaps a little liberal with their expulsive tendencies.

You may read on this blog about sundry subjects - like reading for pleasure, Da Boyz (our two cats), my daughter, our house and garden, movies, manga/graphic novels/comics, areas around St. Louis and the Metro-East that I love visiting, ethnic foods, travel, hopes for a superb vacation in the next two years, and LARPing.

I detest bigotry in all its forms (sexism, racism, ageism, homophobia, ethnocentrism, religious extremism).  I'm typically Democrat by my choices in major issues, but don't want the government to have to take care of us all - individuals working in a responsible manner should be able to keep their freedoms and aid their fellow man.  We don't need a big brother entity to make the rules stick and force the leveling of any playing fields for us to survive as either a culture or a country.  But I might be idealistic, looking for my utopia in a dark land forgotten by its very people.  I wonder if Mul agrees that I am unrealistic in that.  Ultimately I am "independent", whatever that means.

I say good evening with this phase of indeterminable origin:  Nothing to see here, move along.  Prove me wrong and tell me where that phrase was first used... movie, comic book, where?