EVERYBODY'S A CRITIC

     I just finished an 8-day stint as a juror on a criminal case in Santa Ana. I didn't know if I'd be back at work today or not, so I gave absolutely no thought to a Halloween costume. I would like to mention that I'm also fucking exhausted from the stress. This morning I thought, "Crap, I bet a lot of the staff and faculty will be in costume and I'll look like a chump."
     So I clipped my juror badge back on, and told my husband I was going as "Juror #125." He laughed politely, and said, "Okay."
     Some of the kids have asked, and I've repeated my bit about being juror #125. Most of them have laughed politely, since they know I was gone because of jury duty.
     One of the 7th grade girls overheard me explaining my "costume" this morning, and I could see her sort of reserving judgement. Then later in the afternoon she came in and sort of drifted up to the circ desk to give me her verdict:

     "I think you could have put a little more effort into your costume..."

     Guilty.
   

SAMPLE INTERVIEW QUESTIONS


1)  Are you right-nosed, or left-nosed?

2)  Do you have a favorite berry? If so, when?

3)  Name the first 5 bikinis that come to mind:
          __________
          __________
          __________

4)  If you could be any character from 1980's sitcom The Facts of Life, whom would you kill?

5)  In one word or less, describe something:

6)  Where do you see yourself in 5 beers?

7)  Finish this sentence:
          I feel my butt if _____________________.

8)  Can you smell like a chicken?

9)  Why? (Does not relate to previous question)

HOVERING BETWEEN HOMES / DEALING WITH A DOUCHE

     This is a strange time for us. We're now sleeping in the new house in Anaheim, with Esther the chihuahua, and a bunch of boxes and basic daily necessities. But most of our furniture is still at the rental in Orange.
     Since the bed isn't there yet, Anthony and I are trading off between the new couch and a camping mattress thingie we borrowed from my mom and stepdad. It's a very small price to pay to be sleeping in our own house, which is beautiful and a lot bigger, and most importantly OURS.
     Professional movers are scheduled for Saturday. Hopefully by the end of the weekend, or very soon after, we'll be FULLY moved out of the rental and not hovering between places. I cannot WAIT until we never have to go back there. I didn't hate living there or anything, and anyplace with Anthony is Home, but I just want to be settled in and through with our stupid (former) landlord forever.
     Our rent is paid through the end of October, so we don't technically have to be out until then. But the landlord is a real douche. He's already demanded that we let him in to see the place, then he had a painter come out and do an estimate. (Which is annoying, considering the landlord never painted for us in the whole 18 years we lived there) Now we're supposed to be there this evening to let the landlord and a prospective tenant in. He actually went as far as to ask if we could make ourselves "available to show the place" for about 4 hours on Saturday, even though he himself would be out of town! My husband took that call and said NO. Especially since that's our big moving day. It's like he thinks we're his assistants, and expects us to hold an "Open House" for him! Like we give a shit whether he finds a new tenant or not.
     When he came by last week with his daughter (seemed to be "showing her the ropes") to check the place out, he asked if everything was working. I said, "Well, for starters the air conditioner hasn't worked in YEARS."
     His daughter gasped and seemed (at least superficially) appropriately dismayed. The landlord pretended to be dismayed, and said, "Oh, that's terrible! Why didn't you tell me?"
     "We DID tell you," I replied immediately. "SEVERAL TIMES."
     Said the douche, "Oh, ha-ha! I guess the Alzheimer's must be setting in early!"
     I glared at him, grunted, "Mm-hm," and walked away.
     Our new house has new air-conditioning AND a ceiling fan in the dining area. And all-new dual-pane windows. So there.

CONTENTS: Winnebago, bear, pony, towels

     It's pretty chaotic and exhausting, trying to box up 18 years worth of living in one place. You accumulate so much stuff, and it's hard to organize it in a way that makes sense.
     When we first started packing things up in preparation for the move, I was trying to keep like things together, with labels such as, "SHEETS AND BLANKETS," or, "FAMILY PHOTOS & MEMORABILIA." But after a while I just kept dragging more and more stuff out of cupboards and drawers and closets, and it seemed to make less and less sense, organizationally speaking.
     Which is how I ended up with this box:


NEW HOME

     My husband and I just moved from a rental condo in Orange to a house we can call our own in Anaheim. 4 bedroom, 2 bath, about 1,350 square feet, air-conditioning, new paint and carpeting and tile, nice big back yard...
My handsome husband standing in the front yard waving, with a halo/nimbus of saintly light above his head. (Actually the porch light)

Here's me in the kitchen which has obviously been newly remodeled. The house is a flip, which is nice. But I am totally unworthy of that nice kitchen.

This is a wall in the dining nook, and that little brick cubby is a witch-burning oven. (Actually the realtor said it's a pizza oven, but that's not scandalous enough.)

These are the first things things I brought to the new house when it was officially ours: an avatar for each of us. The robot is Anthony, the okapi is me.


ART : Old Handmade Stickers

     When we first began the long and spread-out process of packing in preparation for moving, I came across some old DIY stickers I'd made for one of my first comics conventions. I printed them at home on sticker paper and cut them out by hand. I remember it was VERY difficult to peel the paper backing off, and I kept apologizing to anyone who bought them. This was in the very early 2000s, and home printable stuff has improved a LOT since then.
I still like the odd shape of this one. And I don't know what kind of animal or thing I intended that to be.

This one is like a weird Skelebunnies tribute to Edward Gorey.

IN THE DREAMHOUSE : Daycare Time Travel Improv


              This was a significant dream because of the way it followed me into wakefulness, with no clear line between the subconscious and conscious mind.
              I was dreaming in the early hours before I woke up, influenced obviously by watching episodes of “Abby & Brittany,” the documentary/reality show about conjoined twins who work as student teachers with elementary school kids.

Abby and Brittany. I love these girls.

              My sister and I were working at a day care center, and organizing a play with the kids. I don’t know what my “sister” looked like, and we weren’t actually conjoined. But we were making occasional asides to a documentary film crew, explaining what we were doing with the kids. That’s why I’m sure it was influenced by Abby & Brittany.
              We were going to need to use water in the play, because there were scenes by a river, and something about carrying a bucket of water, so my sister and I had hired a man and a woman who were water technicians so we could have real water in the play.
              The water techs came in with all this equipment, and I told them they could set up in the bathroom. Apparently real water is very complicated.
              The kids were all sitting in a group on the floor, and my sister and I were walking around them, asking comprehension questions, to make sure they understood why the water techs were there, and that they all understood their parts in the play. Their parents were there, too, on the sidelines. Then we had a break so they could all work on props and costumes and stuff. I was narrating for the film crew how nice it was to see the parents and kids all doing their part. For example, a black boy was ironing a purple shirt for a costume, under the direction of his father. I was very impressed that a father and son were willing to do ironing. (It wasn’t significant that he was black, I just thought I’d mention that because I was pleased to note our daycare center was at least somewhat ethnically diverse.)
              We started doing run-throughs of the script, and getting into the concepts in the play. It was a time travel story, with at least one scene in settler times, hence the rustic water bucket.
              One of our littlest charges, a tiny little girl with a pixy haircut, was narrating for that weirdly omnipresent documentary film crew (a la Abby & Brittany) how her directions were to act out a time travel scene on the street, and if a passerby came into the shot, she was to pull them into the scene with her, and hopefully get them to improv with her. She was like Dakota Fanning or something, eerily mature for her age.
              My perspective in the dream shifted, and I was suddenly a stranger on the street, and that precocious little actress was dragging me into the scene about a time travel vortex. It was really tricky, because as a stranger I had no idea what the broader context of the story was, any details I could work with. But I decided to go along with it anyway.
              I had been holding some bags or something, like Anthony and I had been out shopping, and he was there with me. I handed him my stuff, plus my wallet and keys for some reason, as if those things would have been impediments to being able to act/improv effectively. As I was handing him all this stuff to hold while I participated in the scene, I said in a hokey stage voice, “Oh, no, the time vortex has ripped all my identification away from me! If I die in some past era, no one will know who I was!”

Every daycare play needs a T-Rex.

              Somewhere around this point in the dream, I was waking up. There was a perfectly seamless transition between dreaming and day-dreaming, though. It took me a few moments lying there in bed completely awake before I thought, “Why am I day-dreaming all this weird shit about a time travel improv?” And then I realized that my brain had continued the dream from sleep to wakefulness. I’ve never had a transition as seamless as that before, I can’t even explain how weird it was. Usually you wake up and the dream evaporates, and you maybe remember some of it, but your brain doesn’t just keep going. It’s like somebody forgot to say “cut!” and my brain just kept the film rolling. I even turned off my alarm while I was trying to come up with dialogue for the scene. I really wanted to work dinosaurs in, but wasn’t sure if the kids had the budget for that.
              Anyway, before my brain finally said cut! we finished the scene, and the film crew were all so delighted with my brilliantly comedic performance that they begged me to keep filming with them. But I knew Anthony wanted to continue shopping, rather than hang out with these complete strangers, and I didn’t want to hog the children’s spotlight, so I demurred. For the sake of the children.
              They were like, “How will we explain your character’s absence now?”
              I suggested they have the very next scene begin in dinosaur times with the little girl at a makeshift grave for me, because I DID in fact die! Isn’t that funny? For some reason in the dream/day-dream it was, like, SUPER funny.
              Anyway, that’s about when I was awake enough to realize I didn’t have to figure out how to explain my character’s absence in their stupid time travel daycare improv.
  

PUSSY RIOT

     I wonder if people really care that much about the plight of the Russian feminist punk band "Pussy Riot," or if the news agencies are constantly writing about them just for the sheer thrill of putting something as vile as "PUSSY RIOT" in headlines. Not to mention being able to pair it with "PUTIN."
     I know that if their band's name were "Dung Nuts" instead, Madonna would certainly not be writing "FREE DUNG NUTS" on her arms and flashing it for concert photo ops.
Like her arms weren't disturbing enough already.

DOODLE-DOO : a random work doodle

"Registration Beast," #2 pencil on notebook paper, by Tommy Kovac 
     Today was the second day of registration for the new school year, in which I'm stuck standing at my library counter all day initialing paperwork crap, taking library and textbook fine money, handing out library donation flyers, and selling combination locks for their stupid book lockers. It was pretty busy, but occasionally there was a brief lull in which I had to occupy myself.

MOTHER'S DAY 2012

My mom is beautiful, kind, smart, creative, and lots of fun. This is not a biased opinion.
     My mom is totally awesome, and everyone who meets her agrees. When I was a kid, and all through my teen years, my friends envied what great parents I have. My mom and dad created the kind of safe and happy atmosphere that made everyone want to hang out there, even though they still had to follow rules and behave! They treated everyone with respect and kindness, no matter how many piercings or tattoos or whatever color their hair happened to be. If you've read the Moomintroll books by Tove Jansson, my mom and dad are totally like Moominmamma and Moominpappa. All the strange creatures of Moominvalley (the tiny & shy, the big & bold), were always warmly welcomed at Moominhouse, and asked to stay for dinner.
     My husband and I took both our awesome moms out to breakfast together for Mother's Day. Their names are both Barbara. How cute is that, right? Then Anthony and his mom (whom I love, and think is a real hoot!) went off to see a movie, and my mom and I went off to find a craft at Michael's, because we both like busying ourselves.
My mom's wee pots, which she painted with swirls and dots, and then filled with African Violets.

     We settled on painting clay pots, because that's pretty simple and we could easily talk and get distracted and it wouldn't matter. It was totally fun, especially since we used GLITTER PAINT!!! It was a beautiful Mother's Day, and couldn't have been more perfect. Very relaxing. We even spray-painted a small table. Things get DONE when my mom's around. ;)
My larger and obviously manly pot, which I painted the colors of one of those caterpillar cars you ride in on the Alice In Wonderland ride at Disneyland, and now keep some non-standard-size Copic Markers in. (To clarify: I keep the markers in the pot, not in one of the cars on the Alice In Wonderland ride.)

SPAZ ATTACKS

     Yesterday at work I had two spaz episodes I thought I'd capture in words.
     The first was whilst I was in the bathroom, on the toilet.
     Don't worry, it's not THAT kind of incident. But let me explain that the bathroom adjacent to the library is of the one-seater unisex variety. One toilet, one urinal. There's a sliding sign on the outside that you switch to "OCCUPIED" before going in and locking the door. The real problem is that since this bathroom is between a classroom and the library, once in a while, even though they're not supposed to, a student will use that bathroom. So it's VERY important to use the "OCCUPIED" sign and lock the door.
     I live in fear that I'll THINK I've locked the door, but it won't really be locked. Even if I'm in the stall, I will peek out several times just to make sure the latch on the bathroom door is clearly in the locked position. I get totally OCD about it.
     So yesterday I was sitting there on the toilet doing my business and the STALL DOOR swung open.
     It flashed through my mind that I must have forgotten to lock the bathroom door, and someone had walked right in and opened the stall door. My hand shot out lightning-fast to jam the stall door shut with a bang so hard it made the stall wall reverberate hard enough to knock something off the wall. Whatever it was clattered onto my head and I thought the sky was falling and my public social ruination was all happening at once.
     I honestly don't recall what I said or yelped, probably just some defensive animal sound. I know it wasn't anything as sensible and calm as, "I'm in here!" or just, "Occupied!"
     In the frozen moment afterward I slowly grabbed the fallen thing off my head. The cardboard dispenser of tissue seat covers. My eyes were wide, my breath stopped. I peered between the door and the stall wall, fearing to see a sliver of some student already tweeting the incident on their iPhone. Mr. Kovac on the toilet, pants down, nearly knocked unconscious by tissue paper seat covers.
     Silence.
     I slowly eased the unlatched stall door open to find the bathroom empty, the main door indeed locked. I realized I had merely forgotten to latch the STALL door securely, and it had merely come completely unlatched and creaked open. I was still blessedly alone in the bathroom.
     But I had made a banging, clattering ruckus in there, and I'm sure someone in the classroom just a few feet away must have heard it. My heart thundered with narrowly-avoided shame for minutes afterward.  
     The second incident was when I was leaving for the day, passing by a few students hard at work at one of the tables. Under my arm I had clamped my large drawing pad, in which was carefully (I thought) concealed a cartoon I was nearly finished with. It depicts a man in the forest getting his penis caught in a bear trap, while a monstrously huge Slavic woman charges out of the trees yelling at him for this. (See it HERE) Very high-brow.
     Anyway, as I was bustling by the students with my messenger bag and my drawing pad, a piece of paper shot out onto the table and landed right on top of what the students were working on. Luckily, the students were so startled they immediately looked up at me, which gave me time to snatch the penis-in-a-bear-trap cartoon away before they realized what they were looking at.
     But I was HORRIFIED in that brief instant that I looked down and saw my crude cartoon landing right on top of the students' homework. I would NEVER have lived that down.
     I muttered, "Oh, sorry!" and dashed out the back door.

MAILBOX : Australian zines, Bentley Little, and Pauline Baynes

     I just thought I'd share some cool stuff I've received in the mail recently.
     Hot Rod Librarian, who lives in Australia, purchased via Etsy some issues of Library Bonnet, the zine I do with my pal Julie. Then lo and behold she sent us a few issues of her own library-themed zine! In a pink envelope with koala postage and ironic Jesus stickers, no less!
Koala stamp! What adorable postage!
     Did you know that although they look adorable, koalas kill about 5,000 people a year? I swear! I just made it up!

Text reads: "As you do not actually know me, I should point out these stickers were used with absolute irony."
HotRodLibrarian Zine issue #1
     That very same trip to the post office box I also found Bentley Little's newest horror novel, The Haunted waiting for me! He's a nice local dude I've corresponded with for years, and he's kind enough to always send me his latest book, signed. I didn't even know this one was out!

Bentley Little's latest horror novel, The Haunted
     A few weeks ago I also received a lovely hardcover copy of Questionable Creatures: a Bestiary by Pauline Baynes, original Narnia illustrator. It was sent to me by a really nice bookish couple who live in England. They follow my blog and are fans of Pauline Baynes. Apparently they found this copy in the remainders pile at a local bookstore, but it's in perfect condition! Lucky for me they already had a copy, and were generous enough to send this one to Anthony and me.

Pauline Baynes' Questionable Creatures: a Bestiary
     The moral of this story is that people who read and/or write tend to be very generous and thoughtful.
     So why am I such a dick?
     (Am I kidding? Maybe... Maybe not...)

CRAFT TIME : tablet tote out of discarded library book

          I bought a "budget tablet" recently, because I sure as hell can't afford an actual iPad. My tablet is a Lenovo Ideapad A1, and was on sale for $199 at Best Buy. Just sayin'. PC World rated it the best of the budget tablets.
          I was going to fork over some more cash for a cover/case/whatever, but then I decided to get resourceful and creative instead.
          When I told my husband I was going to MAKE a tablet protector case out of a discarded library book, he was like, "Mm-hm. Sure you will." (In his defense, I say LOTS of things. Yesterday I was sitting on the couch watching TV, and said, "In an alternate reality I'm on the treadmill right now.")
"The Wind and the Rain," a book of poetry
          Having worked in numerous libraries, I have collected a stash of discarded paperbacks and hardbacks. Some because I like the books themselves, and some because I was sure one day they would provide craft material.
          First I chose a hardback of pleasing color and title that was just slightly bigger than my tablet.
          Then I boldly tore out the pages. It was an uncharacteristic act of savagery. I liked it.
          I kept the eviscerated insides because I'm a pack rat, and maybe I can use them for some OTHER craft.
          Next I chose a pale blue felt rectangle with which to line the inside of the book cover. I used regular Elmer's glue for that, but have since discovered that actual "fabric glue" works a lot better when you're working with felt.
          I glued two rectangles of black felt together, back-to-back, to give an extra layer of cushioning, and then folded them in half and sewed the two sides up, to create a pocket. Get it? I turned it inside-out, so the stitching is hidden on the inside. This is the extent of my sewing skills, and even that much is really pushing it.
          I glued the black felt pocket to the blue felt lining with Elmer's glue. It didn't really work and made a mess, and I was like, "Shit! It's RUINED! Everything is RUINED!" But I took a deep breath and went to Michael's, where I found cheap FABRIC GLUE. It worked like a charm, and the crisis was averted.
          I made Velcro fasteners using squares of iron-on adhesive Velcro, shown above. If I had KNOWN I'd be using iron-on stuff, I would have done that BEFORE gluing the blue felt liner into the inside of the book cover. Which is why I had to cut a new strip of blue felt, iron the Velcro square onto that, and then glue it onto the existing blue felt liner.
          (Luckily I had figured out the iron-on Velcro BEFORE I sewed up the black pocket, otherwise that would have been a lot trickier, too.)
          But wait- we're not done! On the outside of the book cover there were some icky yellowish stains from old book tape that had been used to hold the dust jacket (which I got rid of, it was ugly) in place. I tried gently cleaning the stains with Windex, but it didn't work.
          That's where ephemera and adhesive decorations come in handy. Back to Michael's.
The front, tastefully decorated
The back, tastefully decorated
          Okay, NOW we're done.
          And look! It's a secret. Nobody will even know there's a TABLET in there...

There it is! Third book from the puppy! Shhh...

WRITERLY WRITING : My teensy article on ebook formatting

     My friend Rilla, who edits a local edition of SCBWI's (Society of Children's Book Writers & Illustrators) Kite Tales e-newsletter (whew!) recently asked me to write an article about e-book formatting for their regular internet/techie column. I happily agreed, even though I'm still a novice. I've really only figured out enough to upload a short story fairly successfully. My article is mainly for writers who are intimidated by the very idea of it, and just need a little reassurance and basic step-by-step clarity.

Here's the link to the newsletter: http://www.scbwisocal.org/kitetales/2012/KTSpring12.pdf

     My article is on pages 27/28, and if you look at the table of contents ("In This Issue") on the left-hand side of the first page and find my article under "Columns," you can click on the page number and jump right to it.

     There's even a handy-dandy "clip and save" square you can cut out and stick to whatever nearby stickable space you have near your desk. Then, when you have a finished piece of fiction to convert into an ebook to sell on Amazon, just go down the line and check off each step until you're done!

     And in case you're wondering if I have any ebooks available on Amazon, I currently have two short (and bargain priced at only 99 cents each!) stories. They're both Halloween-themed, but don't let that stop you from checking them out during other times of the year. Here are the links: