rachelpink rides the bus

Expired

Last night I fished out a bottle of aloe with lidocaine for my sunburn from a storage box.

This was a bad idea. Five minutes after rubbing it in, I felt a burning, itching sensation in my shoulders. Nothing would stop it, so I started running around in a panic from room to room. The pain was intolerable. It took me three tries to get myself together enough to take some benadryl. I seriously considered calling an ambulance because it was that weird and terrible.

20 minutes later the pain started to subside, right when the benadryl took effect. I fell asleep immediately.

The moral of this story? Throw out old medicine things.

Home Again

It was sad to say goodbye to the kids this morning. Delaney asked me not to leave. She said her dad and his friends could build a gas station for me and grandma to work at so we wouldn't have to go home. Seriously. It's always heartbreaking to leave those munchkins. They're both so funny and happy and strong. Last night we spent an hour telling stories. Donovan would start, then Grandma added a line, then Delaney and finally me. It was hilarious and made me wish I could have more nights like that.

But we left, mom and I, and headed to the airport. The flight was uneventful, and I kissed my mom goodbye (she needed to hop on a flight to Arizona) and then I skipped out to find my car. As much as I missed the kids, I was so happy to get back to my routine. Routine's are comforting.

I ran into my building and popped open the door. Cupcake greeted me with purrs and rubs. I called for Foster. Nothing. I wasn't super worried because Foster likes to hide, so I opened up some food for them. Still, no Foster. OK, now I'm worrying. I look under the bed, check the lobby, rip apart the closet. Nothing. Cupcake looks like she knows something, but she's not telling. Finally, I re-check the bedroom and notice that the window screen has been broken open. The opening is big enough for Foster to fit through. I look down on the pavement praying the cat isn't there. He's not. OK. So I start to yell his name. And I start to freak out.

I start calling my friends and Meg picked up. She's at work and I'm hysterical. I call the super. He's in Florida and makes me feel bad. I beg him to see if someone can check the super's work area, because I suspect that's where Foster would have headed. At this point I am bawling like a baby. The super calls back. He says  the workmen found him! I call Meg back and head out to meet Foster's rescuer. He hands him to me and I can't stop crying. I thank him over and over and cry into Foster's neck.

So now I'm sitting here with the windows closed and both my kitties and I consider myself the luckiest of ducks.

24 Hours

SATURDAY

6:15 PM . . . .
Arrive at JetBlue counter and see flight is delayed.

7:00 PM . . . .
Wait wait wait at the gate while watching BSG and thinking angry airport thoughts.

9:00 PM . . . .
Start to despair because I'm so damn tired.

10:10 PM . . . .
Plane finally arrives at gate.

10:45 PM . . . .
Board plane with great haste because San Diego has an airport curfew of 11:30 PM.

11:00 PM . . . .
Observe screaming 3-year old in row ahead of me. Hope that she will stop screaming soon.

11:15 PM . . . .
Try not to freak out when pilot announces that due to a fuel spill, we might be stuck in SD.

11:35 PM . . . .
Hope that the 3-year old will be drugged by parents.

11:45 PM . . . .
Plane takes off. 3-year old sounds like she's being torn apart by wild creatures.

12:00 PM (PT) -- 8 AM (EST)
Sleep, wake to screaming. Rinse. Repeat.

SUNDAY

8:00 AM . . . .
Plane lands at JFK right when my flight to Tampa is supposed to take off.

8:05 AM . . . .
Being to fret and panic while waiting to deplane.

8:15 AM . . . .
Arrive at gate after a brisk run and see that the plane is late! Time to use the restroom, yay!

8:30 AM . . . .
Board plane. Fly. Sleep.

11:45 AM  . . . .
Arrive in Tampa just in time for a super quick shower before Delaney's party.

Hellish all around, but well worth it to see my pumpkin so so happy.

Leaving San Diego

The San Diego Airport is so cold, I might get a hot drink from Starbucks. Crazy.

My flight to NYC--->Tampa is delayed, so I've got a few hours to kill. It's going to be a long night, but I should be sufficiently exhausted to sleep on the plane. I've got a 6 hour flight to NYC followed by a quick layover and a 3 hour flight to Tampa.

So while I wait, here are some highlights from today:

First and foremost, I bought a little cyclon unicorn made of resin by the artist, and it's possibley the most perfect thing I've ever seen. The artist was a doll, and he hooked me up with stickers and postcards (which are for sharing).

RJ, the wonder kid--an awesome little DK fan,  stopped by the booth with his dad because we were the only people he wanted to see. He stayed for an hour, and he's going to be my new junior penpal.

I got a kiss from Elvis Stormtrooper (he was in plain clothes mode).

I met the coolest little jawa and her dad. They gifted me with a 501st pin and I teared up. The 501st has my heart.

Joss Whedon was just 3 ft. away from me for 10 seconds.

I spied the Cheerleader from Heroes, and talked to Ando from Heroes. Because that's just how I roll.

I got Vince a killer present, even though I have to haul it around in a shopping bag. Hint: It's not alive.

BSG's own, Hot Dog, had noone on line for his signing. I started to veer in his direction, but then I noticed he was charging $25 for an autograph. Sheesh!

OMG

I LOVE COMIC CON! I LOVE COMIC CON! I LOVE COMIC CON!

Oh friends, I am having a delicious time here in San Diego. My expectations were so so low this year, and I am thrilled that I was wrong to be a pessimist.

My authors rock. Our signings rock. The people rock. It all rocks.

Today I met Mike Henry, the voice of Cleveland on Family Guy! He stopped by the booth and his son was wearing a Cleveland hat. My co-worker commented on it, and next thing you know, Mike was doing the voice. Nifty. I overshared and told him that for a full year I couldn't get to sleep without watching at least one episode of Family Guy. He was super snappy and cool, and of course I offered his family carte blanche on the books in our booth.

Earlier in the day, I made a deal with a mom and daughter. I noticed they were wearing BSG pins. I told them that if they could score me a few, I'd give them a book. 30 minutes later I had a handful of pins (which I'll share), and happy people in my midst. They thought I was so sweet--but they did me the favor.

Jenn took a lunch break and found me a paper Cylon mask. And just when I thought I couldn't do better on the Gallactica front, I had a co-worker run over and tell me that Ronald Moore, creator/writer/exec producer of BSG was in the vicinity. He stopped by the booth, listened to me babble (and overshare--a bad, bad, bad overshare), and he kindly let me snap a picture with him. What a thrill! I literally shook after he left the area, and for the first time I felt like a real fan girl. I liked it v. much, thank you.

And that just touches the surface. Hanging out with my authors, going to the Lucas/Gentle Giant party (Neil Patrick Harris, Sylar from Heroes, Bruce Campbell--there were all there, but I didn't catch them), eating a meal at an amazing French restaurant. drinking, laughing, talking to cool smart kids who love Star Wars. . . I love it all so much I think I might be emitting rays of happy light from my core.

Frakkin' Toaster

Stay Classy, San Diego

San Diego is perfect. Blue skies. Cool warm breezes. My stress melted away last night as I took a hot bubble bath while finishing The Secret History and sipping an iced coffee from the full-service(!) Starbucks in the hotel lobby. That's what I needed. Then I watched the sunset from my little balcony, started reading The Likeness, and finished the night with an episode of BSG.

Now it's Wednesday morning and I'm itching to get over to the convention center to set up. We're meeting downstairs in 45 minutes. The booth will look great this year, and we have a super packed schedule of signings and media interviews for our authors (no thanks to me, Susan did a bang up job).

I need to get down to the business center to print out information about things I want to see/get. Free BSG swag is rumored to be plentiful. I'm still on the fence about the Tori Amos comic book/signing and the exclusive Bears, Beets, and BSG t-shirt from the NBC store. I don't plan on spending much, so I need to optimize the freebies!

There's something else I've got up my sleeve. Every year I've done Comic Con or Star Wars Celebration, I've wanted to do a scavenger hunt. This year, I want to make it happen.  I prefer a photo hunt--so we can compete--but I'm not sure if both of my colleagues have cameras. Either way, we'll make it work. Here's the start of the list:

Man with a tail
Storm Trooper Elvis
Hello Kitty Trooper
A jawa
Two Indiana Jones
Someone with a Jar Jar Binks mask
A Joker with a Batman
A little girl wearing a cape
Anyone from Best Week Ever

There will be more later. Time to go! Please leave scavenger hunt ideas in the comments.

Comic Con

I'm headed off to San Diego to celebrate the world of comics. I'll be blogging from the show for Penguin--I'll send along the link when I get it. As always, there will be pictures and stories and madness.

The Greater Good

Life is good but that's not good enough when it could be great.

That's the thought that shadowed me on the walk home from the movie theater. That's the thought that I can't shake.

Since dropping Donovan off on Saturday (a day early--he couldn't stand another night with Foster the Ferocious) I've suffered from the post-vacation, pre-Comic Con blues. I'm tired and cranky and antsy and troubled and I'm sure I'm forgetting to do important things. I slept until 12:30 today troubled by dreams of mob killings, Barbara Walters interviews, and presidential elections. That won't do.

I'm packing my sneakers and gym clothes for San Diego. When I get back, I'm headed down to Weight Watchers to get back on the Points train. I'm going to start getting up early and enjoying the park that's only a few shady blocks away. I'm going to write or craft or knit a little every day. I'm going to breathe deeply. I'm not going to say anything unless I have something nice to say.

So doable, all of it. Small and doable.

Read to Me

Donovan doesn't dig reading. He's 8. He's a boy. I know I can't force it.

Donovan does like super heroes and Tony Hawk and monkeys. When we talked about reading, he told me he liked non-fiction. I think it's high-time I got around to writing a kid's book about Tony Hawk and his merry band of cape-wearing, crime-fighting monkeys, no?

In the meantime, I spent some time convincing him that he should be reading more comic books. He seemed a bit shocked at the suggestion, but it was a sincere one. I'd love nothing more than for him to get hooked on comics. Kevin took him to a comic book store this afternoon, and I'm hopeful that he'll be heading back to Florida with a hefty stack of reading for the flight home.

Some people feel shame that they never read Moby Dick or Shakespeare or Huck Finn. My shameful gap? Comics. Graphic novels. I want to find a way in, but it's so vast and intimidating. Every year at Comic Con I pick up a few things but nothing has ever grabbed me deeply the way a good book does. Perhaps I need to start with the classics? After watching the trailer for The Watchmen, I'm thinking that could be a good start. I once met Alan Moore, ever so briefly, when I worked for another house.  He was at a party for the launch of B0ne, and he was there with Mike Mignola. I was so psyched meeting two icons of pop culture, but not knowing their work in more than a superficial way made me feel like I had missed a great opportunity. No more of that for me.