STRIP: Culture Shock

It wasn't her fault...or mine.

 I made the mistake during my last year of college of watching a lot of true crime shows on Investigation Discovery. It became a morbid obsession. From that addiction, I developed the nagging belief that everyone in the world that I have not personally met and assessed is a potential a) rapist, b) murderer, or c) child molester. I don't let my kids play in the front yard for the fear that I will be that news story where I "turned away for a minute" and they are gone. I used to keep a very large knife mounted high on my wall next to my front door as my "home security system". I have some pretty extreme issues with crowded places and Chuck E. Cheese freaks me out just as much as it pisses me off. All that being said, the evening news stories just depress or scare the living hell out of me. Unfortunately, that means I now get most of my news from Twitter, The Weather Channel, and Elvis Duran and the Morning Show.

So, no. I hadn't heard about the recent news debacle of demonizing a rape victim and canonizing the boys that raped her in Steubenville. I did see a link posted by Scary Mommy and I went to read it at her request. She is so brave to share her story like this. 

It is not an uncommon story. I started writing this post for no other reason than to share her story with others. I didn't start writing this to be brave, but I think I have to.

Because it isn't an uncommon story.

It has varying facets, but it happens all the time.

My facet is different than hers. And it isn't something I have shared with many people.  I am 33 years old and I still have shame as I type this. But here goes.

I was 14. I was a virgin. He was much older. Met at a the street carnival for the county fair. He thought I was pretty and I was flattered....and I flirted. I flirted and he pushed my boundaries. Right up until I realized I was in over my head. He was so much bigger than me and when I wanted out of the situation, it was too late. In my head, I heard "You brought this on yourself. Just shut up so he doesn't hurt you." I couldn't tell anyone. Not in that town. Girls that flirt and get attention get what's coming to them. Even smart girls. Even straight A students. It's always the girls' fault.

But it's not. I have lived with this for a very long time because we live in a society where it is the norm to persecute the victim. We live in a society where girls are ashamed to tell anyone that something awful happened to them. It was not my fault. I was a child and he was an adult. But my fear of retribution and scorn allowed him to get away with it. My fear put someone else at risk.

Even now, I am terrified to post this because my parents never knew. I never told them. But this CANNOT continue. This environment of fear and recrimination has to stop! If my story, or her story, can help even ONE GIRL be brave enough to tell an authority what happened to her, then it is worth it. If OUR stories can dispel this gross mistreatment of victims, then my tears at writing it are worth it.

-Nerdy Goth

I love you, Mom.

I'm going to go draw a new cartoon and watch horror movies now....

Mobs, Mayhem, and Medicinal Fugue State

Every spring it happens. Every Spring without fail it happens. The attacks begin. Attacks on me. There are attacks on my children. Hell, even my kitten isn't safe! This yearly assault never surprises me, but it always makes me agitated and, in truth, really pathetic for a few days. Not only am I pathetic, the kids are miserable and pathetic. There's coughing and sneezing and germs and snot and tissues everywhere.  Noses are red and raw. I sound like I've been gargling gravel. The kids just mope around and eat whatever I have the energy to throw together for them. Not that we can taste food during this blatant and malevolent assault. OTC allergy medicines are no match for this menace. Even my insomnia is angry about this!  I can't sleep because I can't breathe but the medicine makes me really groggy and I can't focus on anything. My eyes itch so I can't draw and typing coherent thought is the greatest trial of my day, but...well...I felt like kvetching (look it up...it's Yiddish). And so here we are.

*sigh*  Every. Damn. Year. 

And every year I find myself thinking the same desperate thing.  "Why can't I just destroy all the pine trees? Why can't I protect myself and my family from these evil pollinating bastards?"  And, of course, the annoyingly rational part of my brain reminded me that pine trees are excellent for building and documents and that people would most likely be a tad upset at the mass destruction of ideal, easily replaceable lumber.  I mean, what would they make their shelves out of?   Or their chairs?!  And can you imagine the public relations fiasco it would cause?  Greenpeace nut jobs knocking down my door.  Government lobbyists would start protesting. Witty catch phrases would be created against me. Even the Christian Coalition can get in on the action since I would have eliminated their source for protest posters!  Then the lumber mills are pissed off because I have destroyed their primary source material.  Same for the paper mills.  And what would we do without paper?!  No one would be able to function.  The world would suddenly truly be paperless!!  Entire industries would be null and void (my dad's job and mine for instance).  Heavier reliance on computers begins.  Leading to great technological discoveries and a distinct decline in the activity level of adults AND children seeing as they don't have to walk to a printer anymore. Or leave the house.  Everything can be done on the computer.  If we're very lucky, nanotechnology would finally find it's true stride. The date was wrong but we would most likely see the rise of the machines! Skynet lives!! Of course there would be a hard cell of resistance leaders seeking to help save humanity and civilization from it's own folly.  These saviors would launch a series of guerrilla warfare attacks in an attempt to halt the destruction of mankind by soulless machines and computers.  In the end, I am being touted as the Antichrist and hunted by a mob with pitch forks and torches.

*sigh*

Once again, my grandiose plans for the eternal remedy to my seasonal allergy problem is thwarted by my disinclination to being dismembered by a blood thirsty mob.

-Nerdy (drugged up and suffering) Goth

P.S. If all goes well, I can be drawing again soon and, hey, at least this makes for good art fodder, right?

STRIP: You do this WHY again?!

Sure you would!

And I am FINALLY back in the cartoon drawing business!!  Most everything I draw is based on actual events. This one is no exception!  Enjoy, share, and keep checking back! I have more in the queue!

-Nerdy Goth
P.S. Click "comments' to open the comment box. Don't know why its set up that way! But I definitely want to hear from you!

Insomnia, Ear Infections, and Boredom

Yes I realize that these three things sound entirely random at first glance. However, upon deeper inspection....hmm....nope still unrelated to each other except that all three have happened today. Well, technically yesterday. This is where the insomnia part makes things a little squirrely.

Let's start from the beginning shall we? A call from the school nurse about your autistic son having an inflamed ear canal is a quick way to get you out of work and on the road. I love the child and all but he can be downright difficult when dealing with pain or unfamiliar sensations. An inflamed ear canal definitely falls under both those categories. I knew that if my deeply seated love for him was not enough to keep me from wanting to dose him with codeine laced cough syrup to stop the whining and crying, I can only imagine how the poor people at the Boys and Girls club were going to feel. Not to mention the other kids. And last but not least in my frenzied race to pick him up was the certain knowledge that clinic waits are always longer in the afternoons. Longer the way that I imagine the waiting room outside Hell would be: germ covered plague ridden strangers (I have some germ issues....), random unrestrained children, uncomfortable chairs, bad television with barely audible sound, too hot OR too cold, and always with a faint unpleasant odor you can't really identify.

I was not only 100% correct about the wait....and the conditions therein, but I had the added pleasure of extremely bored children. Two of them. Right there in the uncomfortable chairs next to me. Hungry, bored children that were so hungry and so bored that not even the barely audible episode of Sponge Bob was solace. I could fix one of their woes. I still had my snacks from work that I had been unable to consume. However, fate decided to pour salt in the tiny little wounds by sending in two slightly older boys carrying smartphones and clearly playing SOMETHING on them. Cue the longing looks at my phone; my phone with the dying battery. Nope. Not gonna happen, my tiny muchachos. 

There really is nothing sadder than a junior gamer nerd who is stuck in medical purgatory with no games. Alas, he was also cursed with a mother who's give a damn was just not working at that juncture. We were all suffering.

Some of us more than others obviously, but still.

Needless to say, by the time we got out of that office, we felt like prison parolees on our way to freedom from the big house. They were even happy to do their homework when we got home! It's the trials and tribulations that make us appreciate the little things in life, right kids?

So, the doctor confirmed that the eldest son has a raging ear infection and he gets to stay home today. He also gets to take the pink antibiotic which hasn't changed one iota since I was a child. I find this oddly comforting. You know the stuff: pink liquid amoxycillin. Has the consistency of a runny milkshake and tastes like the color pink (don't ask, I just have no other way to describe the flavor). It has to be refrigerated and is so damn potent that ingesting any more than two teaspoons every twelve hours is highly forbidden. Still exactly the same as it was 30 years ago when it was me taking it. When I initially filled the syringe with the medicine, eldest son became quite concerned and asked if it was a shot. I found this amusing and fought the urge to make some crack about jello.

He took the first round like a champ. He is not happy that he has to stay home from school today (weird kids, right?). He is excited to see his Nana this weekend (more on that later, but spoiler alert WE'RE GOING TO JACKSON). And he doesn't know it yet but he gets to run errands with mom this morning so not a total loss.

As for me, this will be a coffee fueled day. I have been awake since 2:30 in the morning. It took awhile, but I finally conceded that insomnia was winning the battle and decided to get out of bed. I chose "productivity" over "futility". I made a chore chart for the kids in the hopes that the promise of money in exchange for services rendered will convince them to do certain activities with far less feet dragging and whining.  Feel free to laugh now. It's okay. I am laughing, too. Although, in my case it may be sleep deprivation taking it's toll.

Hope you have a great Wednesday. It is Wednesday, isn't it?

-Nerdy (sleep deprived coffee fueled) Goth

Taking the Kids to Con

After a promising horror film on Netflix touting a red hooded girl snuggling a shotgun on the cover turned out to be in German (and I can't draw or write while also trying to read subtitles), I switched over to Mad Men.  I've admired the fashions in the ads from afar, it was time to dive in and actually watch the show. Five minutes into the show, I am pretty sure I would have gone to jail or been locked in an insane asylum.

"Try not to be overwhelmed by the technology. It looks complicated but the men who designed it made it simple enough for a woman to use." -Joan

What. The. Hell?

::Deep breath::

I don't live in that era. I don't live in that era. I don't live in that era.

Okay. Yep. Aside from the women's fashions, there is nothing that appeals to me as a woman from that era. Okay, the men's fashions were pretty swanky as well.  But despite the gorgeous styles for women and yummy men in suits, the misogyny would have prompted acts of verbal retaliation and potential physical assault. My determined stance of independence has been evidenced since childhood and continues into my adult years.

Some may call me combative, stubborn, or difficult (which can certainly be true). Others call me creative and funny and completely nerdy (absolutely true). These traits have served me well as a mother.  I don't allow the children to rule our house in the belief that time outs will win the day. However, we aren't total bummers as parents. We have introduced them to the wonders of things like Star Trek, Star Wars, Doctor Who, and a plethora of other things within the nerd and geek culture. We are entering a new age level with our kids and video games have become a fixture for them to play on their own rather than simply watching us play our games. Their aunt and uncle bought them a Sega integrated game system. Simple old school games to get them ready for the more advanced game systems later on down the road. So, for now, they are toiling away at Sonic the Hedgehog. And when they get too far out of line for too long, they lose that privilege.

We are also hitting the age where the kids really want to go to conventions with us. This is a thrilling and anxiety ridden concept. I have seen the parents with a passel of small ones in attendance at conventions and marveled at both their bravery and their fortitude. I, quite plainly, would have lost my mind if I had chosen to drag both kids with me anywhere more complicated than the grocery store in their younger days. Now, they are aware and interested in many of the same things that we (the adults) are. They want to join us at conventions. And we want to take them. We want to put them in costumes and have people think they are fantastic tiny versions of beloved fictional characters. We are strongly leaning toward a tiny Captain Hammer and a tiny Doctor Horrible (they love that movie). Now, we just have to get those costumes together.

We will probably be taking them to Dallas Fan Days or Dallas Comic Con next year. There is also the Sci Fi Expo next February (sorry no link available yet). These are smaller, fantastic cons within driving distance. Eventually, I am sure we will be taking them to Dragon*Con in Atlanta, GA. But for now we want to start in the shallow end of the pool.  

Even the shallow end is scary for the first time. Our first trip was a learning experience for the adults. We learned that snacks are important. Walk talkies are handy when you know your group is going to get split up. Comfortable shoes are absolutely necessary. A good nights sleep doesn't hurt. Now, we have to take all these things that we have learned to survive and put them into effect for smaller, less patient humans...one of whom is autistic and easily distracted. If it weren't too frowned upon, I would seriously consider leashes on the boys. My greatest fear is not a melt down or a tantrum or anything like that. My biggest fear in taking the kids to con is looking around and seeing that they are gone; distracted by some shiny thing and wandered off to see it without saying a word. This is a valid concern if you have ever taken them to a store. "Ooooh Squirrel!" ::sigh:: All the time. So, yeah. I want to take them. I want them to enjoy the same level of oohs and aahs and OMG that's awesomes as we do when we attend. Now, I just have to figure out how to cope with/ manage the anxiety of taking them and keeping an eye on them.

Yes, I know I started this with Netflix disappointment followed by 1960's era man rage, but if you stayed with me to the end maybe you can offer some advice on how to take small humans to con. Or at least how to deal with the anxiety!

-Nerdy Goth

Getting Back Into Drawing

Last August, we attended Dragon Con in Atlanta, GA.  While we were there, I had the pleasure of meeting Kevin Eastman, the creator of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  I mentioned that I used to draw a comic strip and just kind of fell out of it.  I told him how I wanted to get back into it and Mr. Kevin Eastman himself told me that no matter what I did, I should keep drawing.

I have spent the last few months making excuses and dodging the topic when FH would bring it up. He wanted me to start drawing again. He encouraged me.  But, in all honestly, I was scared. I wasn't sure I would be able to draw anymore. I KNEW I couldn't just pick up the same topics or characters that the comic strip had before. That incarnation was tied tightly to a former relationship and who the hell wants to drag that back out if they don't have to! I certainly didn't!  I didn't know what to do with it though. I wasn't sure where to start.

Well, for my birthday, the FH bought me a brand new drawing pad and a set of art markers; the set I have been pining over for at least two years but couldn't afford.  He gave them to me tonight and I started sketching. I had been thinking of things to draw; ways to repackage the comic.  I was still scared I wouldn't be able to, but it was like riding a bike.  I was able to redesign a few characters and draw a new one for the FH.

I've changed things up a bit in how the art will be presented as well as how it looks.  Instead of all large scale, four panel comic strips, these will mostly be Far Side style one shots.  The last time I drew and posted, the art was hand drawn in pencil and color added digitally after scanning.  This time around, the color will also be done by hand.  I have one mostly ready to go. Just waiting on the extra markers to get here so I can do a proper skin tone (the peach in the set was way too pink to be used for this batch of pale faces).  As soon as that is done, I will be scanning and posting it.  Like the other strips, these will be based as much on real experiences as possible. My kids are full of witty quips and capable of straight of WTF nonsense.  So is FH and myself.  Pretty much we like to surround ourselves with the ridiculous. Makes for lots of "did that just happen?" moments to draw about. 

I'm excited to have a pencil back in my hand and even more excited about the markers.  I hope you all will find my life as funny as we do!

-Nerdy Goth