rachelpink rides the bus

Comic- Con

Not much to say this year about Comic-Con. I did not embarass myself in front of Ron Moore. Sad face. I saw Edward James Olmos twice, but I wasn't about to pay $50 for an autograph. No sir, not even for Adama will I shell out that many clams. I did not see Johnny Depp--not even close. Seth Green scurried past me while I went on an iced-tea run and he's so damn wee. Practically fairy folk.  I did get a few things signed by Mark Ryden, and I did embarass myself dearly in front of him. He looked at me like I was a small damaged child and I scurried away. 

Costume-wise, I didn't see one single bad slave Leia. Madness! I did see a terrible terrible terrible 5th Element outfit where the girl essentially wrapped herself in limited quantities of something that resembled white electrical tape. She was moments away from a wardrobe malfunction at all times. She was also paler than me, making the white electrical tape look all that more appealing. 

I saw the man who dresses up like a rainbow-colored fox, as I do every year. 

Into the booth came a girl dressed like a sexy Pokemon. I would not know that's what she was if not for one of my talented and in-the-know authors who was also there at the time. Sexy Pokemon had three fox tails coming out of her micro-mini. And ears. 

I saw the delightful Elvis Stormtrooper, but he wasn't in costume. Not a problem for me, Ken is always a delight :) 

And then there was the lady in the electric-green thong leotard. I don't think she was a character, per se. I think she was just looking for a reason to wear her electric-green thong leotard out in public. She was always dropping things and then bending down to pick them up. Icky. 

There were lots of good Silk Spectres. They were generally accompanied by some terribly small and creepy-looking Comedians. 

Right, so that's quite the report. Take that, CNN! Mostly I saw a lot of friends and business contacts who I only see once a year. I laughed a lot. I got a weird sunburn. I had some miraculous fish tacos. I bought a bright-green snakeskin-print dress for under $30. I stressed out. I had drinks with Susan at a rooftop lounge that I love. Accomplished a lot. Slept a little. There you have it. Comic-Con in a nutshell. 

Happy Birthday, Delaney

My sweet, sassy, smart and gorgeous niece turns five today. She's visiting New York City for the first time with her mom, grandma, aunt (me!), and big brother. There are surprises planned. And a tea party. And two nights in a hotel in Times Square so we can luxuriate together :) I'm still not sure how we're all going to fit in the hotel, come to think of it. There's a good chance Aunt Rache will be sleeping in the tub. 

Anyhow, there are a million things I adore about Delaney. She's got spunk. A wicked laugh. A smile that's all carefree and mischevious. Curls galore. And her Aunt Rachel's sense in fashion (i.e. wear what makes you happy--matching not required). 

When Delaney was 3, she told me at breakfast that she never liked me, ever. I worried then that she just didn't dig me. Actually, she was being a saucy three year old who was smart enough to push my buttons. I'm happy to report that she does like me now :) And I like her back, natch, LOVE her back, more than words can ever say. 

Happy Birthday, sweetest girl. Aunt Rachel will love you always, even when you're a surly teenager. 

Love

In a week Donovan and Delaney and my sister-in-law will be in NYC. Delaney and Gloria are here for a week, and Donovan will stay for a few weeks longer on his own. 

I haven't seen them all since Christmas. That's sad, and I can't let such time pass without seeing them again. It's not just the kids, I miss Gloria too, and I'm looking forward to giving her a night out on the town (probably at Hibernia--Vince and Lisa, I'll be in touch!). 

Delaney turns 5 a week from tomorrow. FIVE!! I can't believe that my gorgeous, sassy, curly-haired baby is a big kid starting kindergarten in the fall. My mom and I have big plans for her, many of which are SECRET. As promised I will be holding a tea party in Delaney's honor at Alice's Tea Cup. And yes, I will be traipsing around the city wearing a red party dress, a tiara, and lots of plastic necklaces because I told her I would. We will sip tea and eat scones and finger sandwiches and make polite conversation about our favorite fairies (Tinkerbell for Delaney) and princessess (Belle for both of us). And because my friends are so good and dear, they'll join us (without the party dresses--but with tiaras). I'll also be taking Delaney to meet my kitties for the first time. And heck, it's her first visit to NYC!! There's nothing cooler than watching a kid soak up the maddness and magic of New York. And I'll admit, I'm a pretty good tour guide. We will have to go to Toys R' Us for the ferris wheel, and I'm trying to convince everyone that karaoke would be a grand idea. So far, only Donovan is fully on board. 

Donovan will have to suffer through the girly fun for a week--but that's OK, because he's always had us all to himself. Time for a little sharing. And of course he gets a few weeks on his own with grandma, grandpa, Uncle Kevin and Aunt Rachel. I've already planned a party in his honor at the new beer garden. He's asked me repeatedly if I still live near that "really good pizza place" (Sac's--a coal oven place in my neighborhood. My nephew has great taste!). I told him he could either go to the circus or a baseball game with me (time is a little limited). He was immediately pro-circus. . .  and then he remembered he'd never seen a baseball game before. Of course I'm going to surprise him and we'll do both. Donovan also has it in his head that he'd like to go to Italy. Why? He heard the ice cream is the best in the world. No doubt we will be making a pit stop at one of city's finer gelato establishments to temporarily scratch that itch. 

Do they get a little spoiled while they're in NYC? Heck yes. I wouldn't have it any other way. It's so rare and special and just-plain-cool to be able to serve up some genuine magic. 

Did I mention how much I love those two little people? I love them, I love them, I love them. 

Pictures of Me

I really like taking pictures of myself, and I took lots of them in Chicago. It's amusing, extra amusing because people always look at me like I'm a little bit batty.  I am--but only in the most adorable way. 

From top to bottom: me kissing me at The Bean, me by the water, me by The Bean again, me after a bird dropped an unpleasant present onto my skirt. 

 

Wrigley

Tonight after a loooooong day at the convention center we headed out to Wrigley Field. We couldn't get tickets for the game, but it didn't matter--the area around the stadium was very entertaining. Drunk people aplenty. Cubs fans galore. And this silly bear chatting up a cop. 

I Ran

[Note: I'm awfully web-chatty lately, right?]

This morning I got up at 6 and I ran! Well, I walked/ran as prescribed in the Couch to 5k program. It went a little something like this:

1. Walk briskly (I love that word) for 5 minutes. 

2. Run for 60 seconds. 

3. Walk briskly for 90 seconds. 

4. Repeat 2+3 for 20 minutes (or until you die). 

I repeated for 30 minutes instead of 20, and then I hit the elliptical for 12 minutes. After my 900th shower of the week (I am compelled to shower all the time when I stay at a hotel) I ordered up an egg white omelet with a side of asparagus. 

I'm feeling powerful and strong. The sun is shining. And now I head out to say the following over and over:

1. Just so you know, that's not a finished book--it's a dummy. There's nothing on the inside. It's blank. 

2. The LEG0 St@r Wars book? It's out on 10-10-09, it comes with it's own minifigure and we're holding over 70 events across the country to launch it. Check out our website! 

3. You're right--the St@r Wars readers rock! Thank you. 

4. Yes, the posters are free. Please take one! 

Breaking

I feel like I've run away. This trip to Chicago has absolved me from my everyday responsibilities. I don't even have to feed the cats (they have a sitter tending to them--worry not). Working through the weekend in a 30 ft. booth with no view of the outside world isn't cake, but it's different. And different is sometimes enough. 

Running away isn't such a bad thing. I was feeling out of sorts and frustrated and overwhelmed when I left New York. Despite a sweet swirl of good things and nice things and things that make me smile wide, a competing swirl of contrariness and trouble and very late nights was threatening to swoop in and smash up all the good stuff. But I flew away before the bad swirl overtook the good one. Close call. 

I'm not letting trouble win. The good stuff wins because I want it to. And that means I will find time for the letter writing and crafting and music listening and book reading and summer frolicing and friend laughing that I need. There is time for all of that even if I I have to track it down in hidden corners on Sunday mornings at sunrise.  

Hotel Quirks

For about 6 years I've traveled for business. For the first few years it almost unbearably fun. Nice hotels. Room service continental breakfasts. Deep tubs and complimentary soap and conditioner. Big fluffy king-size beds loaded up with crisp white sheets and piles of pillows. Swoon! 

Then it got a teensy bit tired. Almost every trip involved working through the weekend. The hours are long. There's lots of unpleasant labor involved in setting up a booth. Everyone thinks it's 100% glamorous. I won't deny that it's a special and appreciated perk, but it's not easy being "on" and perky and perfect for four days in a row. One unfriendly moment with the wrong influential person could adversley affect sales--so ON ON ON. That's what we need to be. 

I haven't traveled in almost a year, so this trip to Chicago is extra nice. The timing is unfortunate because work has not been easy and I kind of hate leaving my department in the lurch right in the midst of difficult times. But this trip was planned for almost a year. I'm here. And Chicago is awfully nice from what I've seen. 

We're staying in the Hard Rock hotel, and that brings me to the point of this post. There are things I do, ritually, whenever I'm in a hotel:

1. Get lots of ice.

2. Take excessive showers and baths and then curl up under the covers in my complimentary robe. 

3. Watch CNN. 

4. Stock up on complimentary shampoo and conditioner IF it's a brand I like. Here they have Aveda Rosemary Mint shampoo and I adore it. Smells a little like heaven. 

5. Order room service breakfast at least once (even though it's stupidly expensive). 

I'm trying to institute a new ritual on this trip--getting my sweet self to the gym everyday. So far that's a fail, because I did not make it there this morning. Hopes are high for tomorrow? 

A Thrill

Yesterday I read my own book, the happy-making book I wrote with Meg, on the subway. 

It's impossible for me to explain what that felt like. It was good and surreal. 

When I was a wee one, I had a small list of dreams:

1. Be a guest on "Good Morning America." 

2. Write a book. 

I crossed off #1 the first time I appeared on The Today Show. And now I can cross off #2. 

Dreams, even small and strange dreams, do come true. 

RK and MJ (and yup, that's me on the bandwagon)

Ok, Ok. I hate the media circus/sideshow/nut-a-palooza. I hate it. It's icky and ridiculous and shameful. And it's because of that I've hesistated to post about my own little Michael Jackson memories. But the time is nigh.

 #1 When I was a wee lass, I loved Michael Jackson. I loved him with every ounce of my pre-pubescent being. I liked to rollerskate to his songs the best. I wore lots of glitter. But more on that later--this memory is more about my grandma than MJ. Picture it: 1983. I'm still a girl, not yet a woman. I'm walking in TSS (a precursor to Kmart) with my grandma when "Beat It" starts to throb from the speakers in the ceiling. My little Ked-clad toe taps to the rhythm. I start to skip and grab onto my grandma's hand. "I just LOOOOOVE MICHAEL JACKSON!" I squeal. "When I grow up, I'm going to MARRY Michael Jackson." In a half-beat Grandma's hand slipped out of mine and proceeded to hit me straight across the cheek with a cold snap. "You will NOT marry THAT MAN." I'd never been hit before (and I never was hit again) by a grown-up. I remember looking at her with wet eyes, rubbing my red cheek, and thinking to my little 8-yr. old self, "Is she crazy? Michael Jackson would NEVER marry me. I'm just a dumb little girl!" I kept that to myself. I was always a self preserver. 

 #2 It turned eight in 1983 and I used my birthday money to buy "Thriller" on cassette tape. I came home, made a fort from sofa cushions and sheets, and plugged in my gunmetal grey mini-boombox. It was raining and cold, so I pulled a blanket up around my shoulders, closed my eyes, and listened to all of side A. When that was done, I flipped over the tape and listened to all of side B. When that was done, I ran out from under my fort and grabbed a #2 pencil and a legal pad. And I wrote:

 Dear Michael Jackson, I think you are so great. I got Thriller for my birthday. It's the first time I have EVER listened to a whole record all at once WITHOUT STOPPING. I never even got up to go to the bathroom!!!! That's how much I loved it! Keep making really good music. Thank you so much. I also think you are very cute but I know I'm too young for you. 

Sincerely, 

Rachel Anne 

(note: I threw in the Anne because I thought it was so cool--and I do remember this, verbatim, because up until a few years ago I'd saved an actual copy of the letter! I was such a nerd I made myself a copy so I could verify who I was JUST IN CASE MICHAEL JACKSON DECIDED TO COME TO MY HOUSE.)

 #3 In fifth grade I had a Michael Jackson fan club. I pasted pictures of MJ into an old photo album that my mom wasn't using. I made up an oath (lost to time--so sad) and a VERY difficult quiz that prospective club members had to pass. Remember that this was long before wikipedia and the internets, so I had to cobble my quiz together using old copies of Bop! and Tiger Beat as my sole reference material. Question #1? What color are Michael Jackson's eyes? No one got that right because I swore they were blue. Wouldn't Toni Morrison have a field day with that one?