I Am In Hell - And It Is Full Of Children

Is there ever more painful a punishment for a childfree woman than to be stuck with children for a month?

My sister - whom I would do anything for, as evidenced by earlier entries - encountered a problem. Due to family issues the person who was going to be watching my neices this summer is unable to get here until the middle of July. As both the sister and brother-in-law work, as does the rest of the family save for me - which is a lie, I do indeed work, I simply work from home - it falls to me to watch the sprogs.

I am not a housewife. I am not a stay-at-home-mom. I can hardly stand polite, clean, well behaved children. I do not like children. I do not like them for a short time, I do not like them for a long time. I do not like them, not at all.... and that's enough Dr Suess parody for the moment.

The long and short of it is simply this: my days are filled with cleaning, cooking, scolding, irritating and brightly colored programming featuring a variety of impossibly colored animals, laundry, scrubbing, more scolding, checking rooms and teeth and underneath fingernails...

From 7:00 am until 6:30 pm I do this. I have no anime, no manga, no grown-up programming, no video games, no books.... I am slowly descending into madness. I understand now why so many SAHM on the internet are bugfuck crazy. If I were constantly a maid and zookeeper to ungrateful little organ bags with no relief or break, I would be too.

I am not cut out for this.

Mr Happy, The Drug Flinging MD

It never rains, it pours.

I find myself once again laid up in bed. Whether it's from the horrific 'vacation' I found myself taking - blizzards and icy mountain roads when one is expecting desert vistas does not a fun time make - or helping my sister move, I pulled something in my back.

This has happened before. I'm rather used to the ER procedures for this injury. I'm hooked to an IV, usually a catheter is inserter, blood is drawn, X-rays are taken... it's quite a process. As well it should be, on the chance I've done serious damage.

At midnight, Saturday night, I was admitted to the ER. By 12:40, I was on my home. I was asked all of two questions by the ER doctor. "Has this happened before?" and 'Can I give you an injection to take the edge off?". No, make that three questions. Question number 2 was followed by 'can I make it a big one?'. And he was so enthusiastic about it, grinning and bouncing as though his greatest joy is prescribing pain medication.

I should have said no. I realized this when the nurse came in and informed me that I needed two shots, because the dose prescribed wouldn't fit in one needle. Yes, you read that right. I was injected in my tender flesh with two needles, and within fifteen minutes, I was out of my mind. I had been warned I would be 'loopy' - lovely professional term, that - for the night. I didn't realize that meant 'more stoned than if I'd smoked a bowl of Columbia's finest'.

My prescription? 50 500mg vicodin tablets. two every five hours. I think not. I refuse to spend my days doped up on 1000mg of that stuff.

I can't help but wonder... what if I had been some druggy, looking for a fix? I certainly would have succeeded. I'd never even visited that particular hospital before. I could have been some random young junky, just desperate for those sweet, sweet pills.

I don't think I shall return to that place of medicine ever again.

I'm Taking A Roadtrip Why Again?

My uncle is a photographer. He specializes in national parks and wildlife. He's a damn good photographer, and he tends to drive all over the western and middle part of America for his pictures. Way back in the day, before my accident, I used to accompany him. We hit Yellowstone, Yosemite, Zion, Bryce, The Grand Canyon and a few others. There was much hiking, camping, riding various pack animals and animal watching. After the accident, the trips stopped. It isn't like I'm really in any state to go trekking for ten miles out into the wilderness any longer, after all.

But apparently I'm going once more, into the natural splendor of Mesa Verde. I've been assured that it isn't strenuous, and we're staying in a hotel, and it will be all very relaxing and pleasant.

I was not consulted before this decision was made. Despite being a twenty-mumble year old woman, I am sometimes at the mercy of my parents. And my mother and uncle hatched this scheme on their own, while I was away visiting my sister in another town.

I'm not entirely certain how I feel about this. Yes, I'm getting out. Yes, I do enjoy this sort of thing. Yes, I generally get along well with my uncle. But I've recently found myself with a lack of anything to say to him. I'm not in the animal business anymore. And while my folks are more than happy to discuss video games, the latest atrocity on the Sci-fi network, and my costuming woes, I imagine all of that would simply confuse my dear uncle. I foresee long periods of presumably awkward silence.

Besides, this is taking away from my planning for Anime Vegas.

Who Doesn't Love a Tiny Girl With A Giant Gun Arm?

Sunday is the best day to hit the dealer's room at any convention. And I saved most of my money for a final run, a half hour before the doors closed, in order to snag those last minute deals.

And deals I snagged! Along with two Bome LE figures for ten bucks each, I found myself walking away with the boxed set of an anime called Saikano for only 50$. Original sale price? 140$. Regardless of the quality of the anime, at the very least I could turn around and resell it if it sucked.

The plot seemed pretty straight forward. A tiny, shy, clumsy high school student becomes the Ultimate Weapon. Nothing too new or exciting there, I've seen plenty of other anime with a similar plot. And generally? I find them dull and boring. Maybe that's why it took me so long to pop Saikano into the DVD player. Whatever the reason, I'm sorry I waited.

Saikano is not your average anime. I've seen a lot of anime where horrible burdens are thrust upon immature high school girls, but never have I seen one that handled it so well. Chise doesn't slip into her role with ease and joy. She isn't able to balance her saving the world life with her home and school life. She isn't accepted by her friends and boyfriend. She's a miserable mess who wants to die, her boyfriend is terrified of her, and she drops out of school because she can't handle the pressure.

It's a refreshing change from the norm. Forget Sailor Moon, Saikano is where it's at.

This is not a happy anime. It is depressing and painful and brutal. The gritty realism is unlike anything I've ever seen. These characters are real, they're well rounded, and all of them are flawed. I was sucked into this series from the very first episode, and I highly recommend it.

Next on my list to watch is His and Hers Circumstances.

Handle With Care

One of the perilous pit falls of anime conventions are the glomps. A glomp is, as defined by Wikipedia, that bastion of all knowledge, 'is a form of greeting used by anime fans in the West. A typical "glomp" involves bear hugging someone, tackling them, and latching on tightly, though not enough to intentionally hurt the recipient.'.

'Not intended' being the key words there. Some us - *cough cough*me*cough cough* - aren't exactly glompable. But short of a giant neon sign that says 'DISABLED! NO TOUCH!' there is little way to defend from the glomps. Most people are polite and ask first. But then... then there are the fanboys.

They roam the convention halls, waiting for their moment to strike. They are silent, and pounce with the full weight of their pocky and ramune fed bodies behind them. Often, they let loose great battle-cries in fanhish Japanese - senseless, stupid and terrifying to the unsuspecting victim.

My first and worst experience occurred Saturday night, while still in my Lust costume. I was standing at the foot of some stairs, smoking away in one of the tucked away smoking sections. I was enjoying some peace and quiet, minding my own business, when I hear 'LUST!' and turn just in time to see, with a horrified expression coming over my face, a giant teenage boy run down the stairs at me and grab me, lifting me up and squeezing me.

I had but one reaction:

"I HAVE A BROKEN BACK NO BAD PUT ME DOWN PLEASE!!!!"

Not one of my smoothest moments, I admit. But really, how many of us are actually smooth in a panic situation? Especially with shooting pain happily dancing along one's spine. Not exactly conducive to witty comebacks, let me tell you. I was apologized to, and soothed with pocky. All through the night I suffered further surprise glomps, though none that involved picking me up.

I live in terror of the glomps. But alas, I have yet to find a way to properly defend myself against roving fan boys.

Maybe a costume covered in metal spikes....

Not Just For Nabakov Anymore!

On Sunday on the fateful convention, I participated in a Lolita Tea Party. I was dressed up and given tea and cookies and cake by very nice women. I also was sung Happy Birthday for the third time that day, it was quite an experience. I wandered away with a box of cookies and some bags of tea.

What exactly is a lolita tea party, you may be asking. It is a tea party hosted and attended by those who ascribe to a fashion that began in Japan. The lolita fashion. I'm dolled up in a common example of EGL - Elegant Gothic Lolita. The fashion revolves around clothing inspired by Victorian children's clothing. It's incredibly complex, and very easy to get wrong. There are rules. These rules must be obeyed, or dozens of women online will try and rape your soul. I've seen it. It isn't pretty.

As I said, there are rules. And it's very easy to screw up and make a fool of yourself in front of the real lolitas.

As my lifestyle lolita friend told me in explicit detail. I may not be able to tell you what is lolita, but I can tell you what isn't! Oh, can I tell you what isn't.... even beyond the basic 'anything bought at Hot Topic'.

It's an interesting fashion, and I actually find myself enamored of it. So much so that I own a skirt and headdress from Japanese brand retailers. Basically, insanely expensive clothes from Japan. I got good deals on them, though.

There's a part of my brain that is still screaming 'twenty-mumble year old women do not dress up like small Victorian girls!'. But it's drowned out by the rest of my brain that retorts with simple: 'STFU, I look good.'

How Many Anime Geeks Can You Fit In a Phonebooth?

Imagine, 2,000 irritated, sweating, food-starved anime geeks all shoved into one dealer's room. Imagine a dealer's room lacking in quality merchandise or fair prices. Imagine dozens of brain-dead con-denizens holding signs proclaiming 'pocky for kisses!' and other such sexually harrassive slogans. Imagine panels that never start on time and are moved without any prior notice. Imagine a staff of the utmost incompetance, unable to communicate with one another over even the most simple of things.

This? Was AniZona, the annual Arizona anime convention. This? Was where I spent most of my time in the designated smoking area of the hotel, and wandering around with a rag-tag group of fellow con-goers, mostly ignoring the actual convention. We found some amazing restaurants in Mesa, discovered that Walgreens was actually a two mile walk from the hotel, not half a mile, and learned that the cashier at the local McDonald's was a fellow anime fan and greatly appreciated out costumes.

It was not a bad convention, as far as my experience went. Other than the numerous perverts who asked me to pose in suggestive situations for them and the fact that the designated smoking section was so horribly hidden, I had a good time. Hey, when a bunch of costumed geeks get together, we can entertain ourselves. And I did get free merchandise in the Dealer's Room - a Yoko Molotov original with the autograph 'to the chick with the amazing tits', a few posters, some story image figures.... a good haul, for nothing other than wearing a slinky dress that shows a bountiful amount of cleavage.

The first night we watched whatever movies were on basic cable. Apparently, it was Kevin Bacon Rape night, as every movie we came across involved Kevin Bacon either raping someone or being raped. We weren't entirely certain what to think about this, as they were all spread across different channels. Coincidence, or Kevin Bacon conspiracy? You be the judge.

Saturday I couldn't find my underwear, and I believe our male hotel guest was using my suitecase as a pillow. I pulled on my Lust dress hastily, and tossed on my wig - can't be see out of costume, after all - and wandered down regimental for a smoke. Upon returning, Bear (my best friend from Seattle) wanted to go grab breakfast. Queenie (our male roommate) was still sound asleep, and so I trekked all the way down to a small, organic coffee house sans panties. I will never do that again. Saturday brought some Dealer's Room perusing, some photoshoots, and the pool. And 4$ hot dog platters at the local bar and grill. There was a rave, but we didn't quite care. Anime raves? Are pathetic.

Sunday was my Ouran Host Club themed birthday party, which we invited anyone who wanted to come to. We did this by setting up and then yelling 'FREE CAKE!' to anyone who walked by. I had Mario and Captain Jack Sparrow at my birthday party, I call that a success.

And most importantly, I discovered amongst the throngs a friend. Someone who lives near enough to my own middle-of-nowhere abode that we can get together. Plans are already in gear for Anime Vegas in September.

Oh, and as to my sporadic updates? I'm working. Money makes the world go round, as they say, and I have a small Ebay business getting off the ground. Google Ads don't pay the bills. Or wig fees. ;)