My First ComicCon: A (mostly) Pictorial Essay

#WWTulsaCC
So I got home today from the Tulsa ComicCon. It was sort of a surreal experience; not only did I get to actually leave hearth and home (and children OMG YES) for the best part of 3 days, I went to this huge event ALONE.
Yes.
ALONE.
Which, as you know, is how I typically prefer things, but most of you also know I am not really sociable on my best day and  I tend toward introversion and wall-hugging in large crowds, parties...dates. Whatever.
Let me take a quick moment to say THANK YOU to the considerable number of people it took to make this trip possible and hella fun (since it almost got sunk a couple of weeks ago when my original sitter backed out): Mom, Mary, Karly, Becca, Shawn, Cathy, and Brad.

You will be surprised to learn that I was shockingly social this weekend, including asking to sit at some stranger's table in an overcrowded cafe, talking to people with whom I stood waiting in lines, and of course actually being able to speak to my heretofore pretend boyfriend, James Marsters (some of you know him as Spike from Buffy The Vampire Slayer). It's totes okay to be jealous of me. I encourage that.

And do not be afraid - I will be back in normal misanthropic form as soon as my James high wears off.

The bonus part was getting to spend some (excellent in quality but sadly short in quantity) time with one of my oldest friends (agewise AND longevity-wise)(hahaha keedeeeen)(sort of).

There was one guy there who looked JUST like Hugh Jackman as Logan (Wolverine), but since he was married to Wonder Woman I decided I better not ask to get a picture.

Let me just say that this weekend was the first time I've felt the pain and regret of not having a smart phone, because (as you shall see for yourself) my crappy little phone only takes crappy little pictures, blurry and dim and horrible. Fortunately for me, I still have all the memories and they're in HD.
Unfortunately for YOU, you'll have to use considerable imagination.

So here I am on the day, getting ready to head to T-Town for my Happy Funtimes Weekend:

And of course I hooked up with my boyfriend James right away:

Sadly, it was not hooking up in the biblical sense. #HisLossToo #JustSaying

**Please forgive the utter blurriness and poor quality of the following fotografs**

ALSO: Let me just add that Norman Reedus, while I did not get a photo of or with him, seemed to be a pretty spectacular, personable guy. He went hours over and above scheduled photo-op and autograph times, often stopping to pop his head out and say HI to the people standing in various lines. I got to see him and spoke to him, and I'm almost fairly kind of sure he might have smiled and/or tipped a wink in possibly my general direction or perhaps to one of the people surrounding me...but I'm not quite 100% on that.
He appeared to make himself pretty accessible to fans and was definitely the hot ticket at this convention.
Also ALSO he was very sexy. A little dirty looking. I like that. #SupaHot #DixonsVixens
For him I would volunteer to be

ANYWAY.

Speaking of The Walking Dead, I sat in on a panel with Shane and Hershel:

They were very entertaining, and also I learned a new Waylon Jennings song that Shane/John Bernthal loves:


Also the Formerly Alive Other Dixon Brother (Merle), Michael Rooker. He sort of gave off an arrogant, bad boy vibe ( but SO FUCKING CHARMING!) - I would hit that in a red hot minute:

Someone asked how he enjoyed working with (my other pretend boyfriend) Nathan Fillion, and he said, "You should ask Nathan Fillion how HE enjoyed working with ME!" which is totes a fair point but DO NOT DIS MY BOYFRIEND NATHAN EVER EVER. #BrowncoatsForever #Shiny

I also enjoyed sitting in with Freddy Krueger - he is definitely a talker. Is it just me or is Robert Englund starting to look like Gandalf?

BIG NEWS: I SAW THE SHAT in all his Captain Kirk-y Denny Crane-ness:

He is actually just what I expected. Also? His roles are #Typecasting, for sure.

After all the Shatner goodness, I had to step outside for a breath of fresh air. It was chillier than I thought it would be (and me without my jacket!) and I soon discovered why:

Then all of a sudden, I was compelled to shout...

...and immediately was transported through a wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey vortex of some sort

where I immediately encountered a very young, sweet, and handsome Harry:

Who was heard to say, "We're not friends. I don't like him and he doesn't like me. What if he sees me and calls me POTTAH?!"

At which point I noticed Draco Malfoy lurking through the crowds, looking evil and wicked and smug as always...

Actually Tom Felton was extremely nice and accessible, wandering through the lines of fans, speaking with the girls, asking them questions (and making them so giddy and giggly I actually smiled)(shut up, we will never speak of that again), just very casual and lovely and sweet.

I was thrilled to run into one of my favorite romantic couples, Daenerys and Khal Drogo:

Although to be honest I was a little worried that a typical GoT bloodbath would erupt in their wake. Luckily, I made it out alive.

I have to be honest and tell you I pussed out on Sunday, Day 3 -- many of you know I have a lot of chronic back pain and sciatica and unfortunately I was not up to the challenge. Probably I missed some of the best stuff on the last day but I DO NOT CARE BECAUSE JAMES MARSTERS.
Also as #BadMotherOfTheYear I feel it's important to note that my decision had zero to do with getting back home to the children; I could've easily stayed away several more days without a single squidge of guilt. Oh, you #PerfectMoms and #Hoverounds can shut it. I will cutchoo like...someone with a sharp cutting thing.
Plus I know for a fact that I'd've ended up spending $50 for a damn autograph (and OMG REALLY $50?? For THAT??) which we all know I'm much too cheap frugal to do and would've regretted later when I really needed to buy something, like new books. Or, you know, food.

AND OF COURSE I SAVED THE BEST FOR LAST.

James Marsters. During his panel I wanted to ask how it was kissing John Barrowman on those episodes of Torchwood but I was too skeert. Fortunately for me and great minds that think alike, the very last person they took a question from asked it. I can't really remember the answer because I was too busy remembering the actual scene.
Mmmmmmmmmmmm.
What?
Where was I?

Right-o.
So I got to actually meet him in the flesh, and he made such direct eye contact when he shook my hand that I'm surprised the smoke alarms didn't go off with the sudden rise in my body temperature. He hugged me and I had to make a concerted effort to keep my hand off his ass...and then he squeezed my hand as I was leaving. I'm pretty sure he's in love with me. Because what's not to love?

See how he was looking right at me? Can't you feel the sexual tension just oozing between us? I KNOW.

He was delighted to dress up as Spike for me for a little role-play fun as we spent some time together in the amazing hot tub in my hotel room:

And here he is, just waking up this morning - James, you're such a cover hog in the middle of the night!

And then...dun dun DUN...it was time for me to leave. I will miss being in you, T-Town:

Now...when can I sign up for Tulsa ComicCon 2015????

First Paycheck.

Today Becca got her first official paycheck. Granted, it's small because she only worked 2 half-days before the pay period ended, but STILL.
FIRST PAYCHECK!

I don't know why I feel so emotional about it...maybe it's this whole menopause deal because half the time I'm crying about one thing or another and the other half of the time I'm irrationally angry about one thing or another.
Mostly though, I think my eyes just got completely opened to the fact that SHIT, SHE'S LIKE A GROWNUP NOW.

Which, when I think about it, is groovy because I'm always wishing for grownup to come and handle All Of The Things. So maybe she can do that now.

[dammit I am trying to type and eat a hot dog because I skipped dinner and I just dropped a big blob of mustard and relish on my WHITE tank top because AWESOME]

I just keep thinking about how tiny she was at birth, how she wasn't expected to live, how the bleeding in her head back then caused significant developmental delays, her enlarged (and holey!) heart...

And now she has a job and a PAYCHECK and come Monday she'll have her own checking account as well.

*sigh*

Music is my boyfriend. No, really.

For a week or so I was feeling pretty bad. Mean(er), nasty(er), depressed(er) (I know depresseder isn't really a word BUT HEY IT IS LITERARY LICENSE), and anxious. I wasn't sure why. I also realized that during this time I'd been watching a way lot of online TV shows and hadn't even opened iTunes or Pandora at all.
So thought I'd try an experiment.

Observation: I don't listen to music when I watch too much TV. I am mean and anxious.
Hypothesis: My life without music is bad.

Experiment: No music for 3 days, only TV shows (did I mention I watch a lot of crime dramas?).
Then minimal TV for 3 days, but lots and lots of music and singing.

Results: At the end of the 3 No Music days, I was moody, cranky, feeling left out and lonely, a little paranoid, and self-pitying. At the end of the 3 LOTS OF MUSIC days, I was happier, livelier, funnier (at least to myself), and feelin' cooooooooool.

Conclusion: Music is necessary for a happy life. I need it. You probably do too.

In related but different news, I'm going to start calling my daughter Dolores Umbridge because whenever I start singing, she does this weird little throat-clearing thing. I don't know what that's about but it irritates the shit out of me. Next time she does it, I'm going to start replying to her only in song lyrics.
She does NOT KNOW WHO SHE'S MESSING WITH.

Gifts you WANT to have returned

The gifts of love and friendship.
Always returnable, never a wait in line or a hassle at the counter.
No rude salesclerks or paperwork to fill out.

So this is the time of year when people typically post their favorite posts of the previous year (well, clearly I like ALL my posts or else I would not publish them, DOY) or they post their RARELY KEPT New Year's Resolutions (and we all know that I prefer "suggestions" over resolutions)...but something way better came up and I want to tell you about it.

2010 was not an incredible year for me. I mean, it was okay, but mostly not. There seemed to be twice as many life-bumps as usual, including but not limited to:
2 days before I was to leave for BlogHer AND my first ever trip to NYC... the transmission went out on my car
Which led to me not getting to go to BlogHer
AND having a non-refundable airline ticket, so, you know, money down the toilet
AND not getting to see any of my online friends in person this year at all
So no car, no trip, no friends. No money. No fun. Boo.
Then I borrowed my stepmom's truck...and squirrels ATE THE WIRES.
AND I got a 3/4 inch splinter straight up through the ball of my foot.
Plus of course the everyday stress of raising a couple of teenagers by myself and working all the time and dealing with disabilities and changing diapers and and and ...
None of these things are hugely tragic, just stressful, disappointing, and...well, painful.
So I'm glad they're behind me. I hate to complain, but srsly I was nearly at the I CANNOT HANDLE ONE SINGLE OTHER THING point.

But see, there are these people....

You know, as much as I despise people in general, it is apparent that in regard to bosom pals (heehee, I said bosom) I have chosen most wisely. In fact, when it comes to friends, I can state willingly, honestly, emphatically that I Have The Best Ones.
They persist in liking me despite my best efforts. Clearly they're somewhat insane.

Oh sure sure, I'm sure you think your friends are better, but they're really not. Sorry.

See, a few weeks ago I wrote this post about the iPad and finding some apps for kids with disabilities - and the thought of being able to actually COMMUNICATE with my son after 15 years of guesswork.
I mean, it's disheartening at times, not knowing what to do for him, not knowing if he's hungry or tired, if his head hurts or he's just thirsty or wants attention... for kids with cerebral palsy and mental retardation a lot of the childraising is just making it up as you go along and hoping for the best. It's hoping that he understands when I say "I love you", even though I know I'll never get to hear him say it back. It's wonderful and terrible and terrifying and humbling and heart-breaking.

My friends read the post and understood.

And for Christmas, they bought my son and me an iPad and gift cards to buy an app that will allow my son to TELL ME WHAT HE NEEDS.
If you're saying UNBELIEVABLE! to yourself right now, that's exactly what I said when I opened the box. Right before I sat down and put my head on my desk and cried like a little girl.

You may not understand how incredibly HUGE this is, for both myself and my boy, but that's okay. *I* know. And there have not been big enough, good enough, words invented yet to convey how thankful and appreciative I am.
All I can say is thank you, thank you so very much, with the whole of my heart.
And? I love you back.

---

---

This post dedicated to:
Alicia
Don
Wendy
Rob
Jay
Loretta
Beth
Natalie
Jen
Mark
Jeckles
Amber
Marc 
Heather
Jami
and
Lisa
The Friday Night Live Gang

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY BABIES!

---

Happy Birthday, my terrible twosome! You are 15 years old today!
Dear God, I have to teach you how to drive this year.
Someone hold me. I'm frightened

---

The story. AGAIN. (yes, it is a re-re-re-repost. I'm not much of a composer of stories, I don't write in pretty phrases and flowery language...so just look at the pictures and I think you can follow right along.

THE DUE DATE: June 4. But oh no, my impatient children arrived February 13, 1995.

Born at 24 weeks after 24 hours of labor, which the doctors tried to stop.
My son came first, in the usual way. (in this picture he was actually one month and one day old)


As they were wheeling me to recovery, my daughter's heart rate dropped to zero, and she was removed by emergency C-section fifty-six minutes after her brother was delivered. (and she is one month and one day old here)


I was stapled from head to toe, practically. Or at least that's how I felt.
And I fell in love with morphine.

In recovery I heard my mom & stepmom talking about the children~I told everyone to shut up shut up shut up because I didn't want to hear that they had died.

But they hadn't. Thank you, God.

Barely over a single pound each. Barely 12 inches long.

They struggled for every single breath. They fought to live.

And so they did.
Thank you, God.

For this little miracle....(my girl at about 2 months)



and this little miracle...(my boy at about 3 or 4 months)


The doctors gave them less than a 50% chance of survival.
Fortunately they got my stubborn genes.

My girl here is about a year and a half old, this is one of my favorite pictures of her~she looks so pensive.


And here is my sister with two skinny little babies:


One morning I discovered that my daughter knew how to climb into her brother's crib..


And she always....


...always has loved him best.

(yes, her mouth is blue...she was putting eye shadow on. On her lips. Yep. You should have seen what she did to me earlier that day with lipstick...whilst I was catnapping on the couch.)

When she was about two, this is what "Go get ready for bed" meant:



Already trying to fill mommy's shoes, trailing that damned oxygen hose behind her (that I tripped on a thousand and one times):


Here's my little guy at about 6 or 7 months old, when he finally got to come home from the hospital...


He had the softest, wispiest hair so I let it grow and grow...



























How could I not believe in a higher power? In miracles?

I love you, my babies. I'm thankful for every breath that you take, every blink of your eyes, every morning that you wake. I love you with everything inside me.
You make me laugh, you make me cry, you make me want to smack you upside your heads.


If all the world was a beach, I would love you more than all the grains of sand added together. Times ten million.

Happy, happy birthday.

Celebrity is like the bubbles in champagne

SAAAWOOON. I have hit the big time now! Comedy guru Mike Doe has given me my very own page at his place!

I am now such a starlet that I intend to go around in short skirts and no underwear... oh. Wait. Never mind - I already do that.

I intend to go get drunk and make a fool out of myself in public.... oh. Wait...

I intend to tip off the paparazzi whenever I leave my house so that they can follow me around & I can act all irritated and stuff and pretend I don't like it.
That is, if they ever return my calls. So far, no joy.

Who's got a camera?

A Summer Affair - Hubba Hubba!

Hooray! It's been awhile since I've been able to do a book review for MotherTalk, so I was happy to be included on this tour.

Since the title sort of gives it away, I don't think it's a spoiler when I tell you that A Summer Affair by NY Times bestselling author Elin Hilderbrand is about exactly that very thing.

I'm actually of two minds about this book - and keep in mind this is ALL ABOUT MY PERSONAL TASTES. 'Kay?

Claire is really the central figure - a professional & renown glassblower who's sort of given up her career for her family - she didn't want to miss anything in her kids' growing up years. Her husband is successful (but sort of a jerk - like the boys in high school used to act), they have a relatively happy and secure family unit. Claire's best friend is married to her (Claire's, that is) brother-in-law, they have a nice life on Nantucket Island.

There is drama. There is romance. There is hot steamy sex (on tables, even!). There is -you guessed it - a summer affair.
Yeah, baby.

A Summer Affair is well written and engaging... I won't say I couldn't put it down -- but it was definitely entertaining.

The problem I had was that to me, none of the characters were really very likeable. What I mean is that Claire seemed weak and easily swayed, and in my eyes she seemed to be portrayed as a ...victim. Or martyr, maybe. You know, giving up the successful & lucrative career to be with the kids, being unappreciated, boo hoo.
I guess she is a little like me: I tend to feel guilty over things all the time, whether the things were really my fault or not, like Claire's guilt over not doing ENOUGH to keep a friend from driving drunk resulted in an accident - for which Claire feels responsible.

And her best friend? DID.NOT.LIKE. She was a judgmental hypocrite & something of a control freak, I think.

The husband? Every guy I dated in college.

If those were the impressions that I was meant to get - then the author was completely successful in portraying her characters! I guess I just prefer a stronger central figure. JUST MY TASTE, OKAY?
I know that many people will strongly identify with the characters - it's a real-life situation with some real-life issues and problems.



And just because I didn't find the characters likeable doesn't mean that I didn't like the book.
It's PERFECT for a day at the beach.

Wanna know who has the affair? If they fall in love, run away and live happily ever after? Or not?
Go get your own copy, because everyone knows that I'll lend you my toothbrush, my kids, even my underpants...but never my books.