With today’s concert of Rachel Barton Pine doing Mozart’s concerto #5, I have now seen all of the violinists–and gotten autographs–on my bucket list.
Guess I need a new list. . .
My parents never hugged me; they weren’t that kind of people. I didn’t think much of it; that was the normal for me.
When I was about 12 I went to visit relatives, and my slightly older female cousins hugged me. Since at that point I thought of hugs as something people do for romance—how much did I know about sex at that time?—I was quite shocked. But soon that became the new normal, at least for relatives other than my parents.
When I was in college I went on a field archaeology thing where we spent 3 months in Mexico. I made friends with a girl who was working at the local tourism office, and we hit it off so well we were instant BFFs. Most people thought we got romantic, but no, it wasn’t like that at all. At the end of the three months she came to visit me at the hotel as I was packing to leave, and that got real emotional, leading to—you guessed it—a hug. But then things really got strange. Here was Patty, who was curvy, and here I was, a horny just-past-teen boy, yet I never felt her body against me. Instead there was this warmth spreading through me, and when I closed my eyes I saw a yellow aura surrounding where she was standing.
Since then I’ve seen that aura and felt the warmth less than a dozen times in my life; every other time I felt the body.
Over the years I’ve become friends with many independent musicians, most of them who love to hug, even the first time they meet you. I’m thinking in particular about Marina V and Christiane Kinney, but there’s plenty others. One time Libbie Schrader hugged me from behind and I almost tossed her over my shoulder because my instincts thought I was being attacked; she never hugged me again.
Another hugging epiphany happened with Christiane’s husband Sean, since I’d never been hugged by a dude before. I must have looked surprised because Christiane went into heavy laughter, but after that it became normal too.
As I just mentioned, some people like Chris and Marina love to hug everyone. One of my favorite actresses, Daniela Ruah, hugged me when we first met, as did one of my favorite musicians, Lindsey Stirling. Another actress, Missy Peregrym, gave me a side half-hug, but that was because we were posing for a photo together. I suppose it depends on how you grew up, how your parents did it.
Which leads me full circle, as for some reason my mom hugged me today. And of course it felt weird more than anything else. . .
So last night the microwave conked out.
This morning, really early, a tube behind the toilet burst, so that you don’t have to get into the tub to take a shower.
And for the last few days I’ve had a thumbnail going the wrong way, only to wake with a bump of red and white above the nail.
Gonna be one of those days, huh?
Luckily the apartment handyman turned up early, though it did take a while for the bathroom floor to dry enough for him to replace the tube. Then it turned out the microwave wasn’t to blame, it was the electrical outlet. That got fixed quickly too.
So feeling good about that, I walked for 45 minutes to CVS, only to find a long line at the Minute Clinic, and over two hours of waiting because of the doctor’s lunch break. Should have followed my instincts and taken the bus to Pasadena Community, but eventually did get out there—the JPL bus takes a long detour through the charming old-fashioned downtown of Sierra Madre, then another long walk—and in less than 15 minutes after arriving I’m in a room waiting for a doctor. I won’t tell you about how she sliced my thumb open to remove the bad fluids—mostly because I didn’t watch—but it hurt a lot less than I expected, and then I caught a bus right in front of the clinic that left me two blocks from home. And wow did this clinic look clean and modern, even having free coffee and a futuristic vending machine that had red vines!
So now I’m at the desk hoping the roof doesn’t leak, but feeling a lot better than I did that morning, when I was drenched from having to reach into the spray to shut off the valve. Sure, it’s basically first world problems, but when they come in bunches. . .
When I say I have simple tastes in women, I’m not talking about simple women, brainwise. I mean two things. First and easily enough to understand, it’s lack of drama, but just as important is a woman who’s happy with being her natural self: no painted hair, no heavy makeup, no high heels. . . nothing that makes her seem like something she’s not.
Put it this way: at a modeling industry dinner, I’m the guy flirting with the waitress. . .
That’s if you want to get into the cool places. With nothing all the special left on the horizon of December, here’s my top three of the year.
(Notice it does not include the Rio Olympics; even if I remembered what happened to it, it would not have made the cut.)
When I tell the pharmacist I had just dropped off my prescription an hour ago, she reached for the closest package. . . then went pink and said, “You probably don’t need birth control pills, do ya?”
There were too many snarks running through my mind to settle on just one, dammit!
“You don’t like me, do you? Would you photograph me?”
“I would charge you a million dollars.”
The Zodiac Legacy #1
Each animal of the zodiac has superpowers, and when a megalomaniac figures out how to harness those powers, his employees rebel, taking some of them for themselves to fight him. All this backstory info drop is for the benefit of the new computer expert the bad guy is trying to hire, but it comes off a bit ham-fisted, and the pacing doesn’t get any better.
Meanwhile, the good guys are looking for a new HQ on Tiger Island, a place so modern it has holodecks, which is where they are when they’re attacked. The battle takes up most of the rest of the story, though of course there’s a twist at the end.
It was tough to figure out who was on which side; when the Dragon finally showed up I had to go back to the beginning, where each zodiac animal was listed, to make sure I had it right. Might have to give this a little slack as it’s the introduction to a new series, but there were still things I thought could have been done better.
As for the artwork, there’s plenty of bright colors. Other than that, not much I can say about it. There’s a newsletter and artist bios at the end.
Cat vs Human Fairy Tails
The cover shows a blonde princess with a Rapunzel braid surrounded by kittens and actually saying “Squeee!” She also says it when a prince shows up. I’ve never known anyone to actually SAY it rather than just written, so that’s unusual right away.
The title is misleading. Goldilocks, the Little Mermaid, Sleeping Beauty, and many others don’t have any kind of fights with the kitties, quite the opposite. It’s all meant to be cute for kids, and it is, unless you have one of those tots that questions everything. Most stories end on a positive, if forced, note. Jack and the Beanstalk had a good twist, as did Sleeping Beauty. The Little Mermaid looks happy, but c’mon.
Oh Joy Sex Toy V. 3
When the intro starts with the salutation of “Dearest perverts,” you know this isn’t going to take itself too seriously.
This is mostly reviews of sex toys, graphic in the original sense of the word: as drawings. I had been wondering how well the male sleeve cleaned up when the other shoe dropped; definitely agree with his thumbs (or other body parts) down on that one.
A character from Star Trek shows up. Wall-E makes a cute cameo too, so these people aren’t just sex geeks. Good. There’s even a public service announcement on an STD between reviews. And when one review is short they talk about TV shows.
There’s a report from a sex party; I would go just for the soda, snacks, and massages. The chapter on the woman freaking out at her first uncircumcised penis was a bit of an eye opener; had no idea that was such an issue. Probably the most interesting chapter was the conversation on how they were invited to be in an actual porn movie, going through the pros and cons.
English class tidbit of the day: “labia” is plural; “labium” is singular. And as always I laugh when people get “psychosomatic” and “psychic” mixed up; at least this time it was on purpose.
They say goodbye while riding on a giant snail; don’t wanna know what that’s about.
The book proper ends around the two-thirds mark, at which time there are guest strips. For example, a woman has sex with a creature made out of ice cream. Nice fantasy; that must be the female equivalent of the guy who wishes his one-night stand would turn into pizza. Another seemed like just a long ad for Grindr. The couple who get hurt doing fantasies on their anniversary was funny. There’s an old-fashioned public info piece where an old researcher is trying to lecture and write while getting a blowjob. “Rectum’s a funny word.” “It sure is!”
So this got silly a few times, but that’s perfectly okay. If there’s one downside to it it’s the large size; there are so many vibrator reviews in one edition that it was easy to get overwhelmed. The artwork is done to be funny, and it is.
A scientist in our world creates a portal to another dimension—one where monsters rule supreme! An expedition goes into this universe, where hope has died and Godzilla is the unrivaled King of the Monsters. But what happens when a baby kaiju hitches a ride back to our original, monster-less dimension?
The exposition is quick and clunky. That’s why Godzilla is top dog; moving on. As you’ve guessed from the title, there’s only one way to get rid of the monster that came through the portal and is eating up East Coast cities. Nukes don’t work, so send out the quickly improvised tech! Plan after plan goes wrong, otherwise it would be a short story.
“I got a bad feeling about this.” That’s the one Han Solo quote you never want to hear.
At least I can say I wasn’t expecting that ending, which I felt was a cop-out. The artwork was fine, the story not so much.
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