I was expecting that my next blog would cover some of the cultural events I’ve experienced lately–the amazing sold out show at Mondavi of the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain, Common House’s amazing production of The Foreigner, my recent trip to Wine Country, in which I got to see a little grey whale swimming along the coast, etc.
But the news of the week is my loss of a gallbladder.
Saturday, I woke up early and got a lot of work done. Shortly after I had lunch, I started feeling really ill–nausea and vomiting had me thinking it was food poisoning. Hours later, still vomiting and  shaking, I headed to the ER. Tenderness in my upper right abdomen made the doctors think it might be my gallbladder. An ultrasound confirmed that the organ was “packed” with stones.
When gallbladder stones block the duct, the useful stuff the gallbladder makes can’t get out to help digest food, causing the symptoms I was experiencing. Once the doctors were finally able to get me to stop throwing up, I was allowed to go home, with instructions to the see the doctor to talk about scheduling a surgery.
Except the next day all the symptoms came back, so it was back to the ER for me, where it was decided that I would be transferred to Sacramento for Emergency Surgery. It was an exhausting night. No sleep. Many rooms. One hallway. Not enough pain medication.
At 6 a.m., the nurse finally turned out the light and told me to get an hour of sleep before my surgery, but that was when the elderly Chinese woman in the bed next to mine woke up and started yelling at all her relatives on the phone.
I gave the nurse Vanessa’s number and was herded down for them to get me ready. There was a moment when they realized that I still had my underwear on, and they seemed surprised. They needed the underwear off, apparently, so they could catheter me after putting me to sleep. Since I hadn’t know that, I thought they should have expected I would leave my panties on–who puts on a backless gown AND thinks it would be a great idea to go commando?
My panties are now in a little “bioharzard” bag. Eventually, I will stop seeing this bag as a funny souvenir.
The surgery was quick, but the nausea and pain were hard to control, so I was in recovery for about four hours, where my nurse was really great, before I was released back to my room. Vanessa was there almost instantly, and we sat for hours, her grading, me trying to block out the Chinese-restaurant ambient music coming from behind the curtain to my right.
As soon as I got the nausea under control, I announced my decision to go home. Melissa and Vanessa were able to keep me company for the several hours it took to make that happen. We left during a freak downpour. I slept for 12 hours.
It’s day two of my recovery. It basically hurts to move. To stretch to bend down, to sit up, to stand up. My arms are sore from the incredible bruising all the needles caused. My four incision sites burn.
I’ve been grinding my teeth like crazy at night, apparently–I have the headache that comes from doing that.
But I’m going to be okay.
And I’m very thankful.
Thankful for all my co-workers who have covered classes for me.
Thankful for my son, who, the second I first started vomiting, got me a throw up bowl and gingerale and offered me a cool washcloth for my head. Who, although he’s sort of shy of strangers, kept marching out to the doctors’ desk at the ER to ask about the timeline for transport, etc.
Thankful for my Ian, who relieved the boy that first night, rubbed my back, and watched Dexter with me last night so I could focus on fictional blood and wounds.
Thankful for my Vanessa, who took me to the ER with the boy the second night, rescued me from the hospital, and is doing a Target run for me today.
Thankful for Melissa, Ken, April, Marina, Mandy Dawn, Tiffany, Tessa, Poonam, and everyone else who’s called, emailed, texted, offered and/or has given support and best wishes.
I don’t know exactly when I’ll be completely myself again, but I know it’ll be faster because of all of you.

As WonderCon 2013 is the only big Con I’m likely to attend this year, this is likely the only Con blog you’re all going to get for a while–enjoy!
For the first time in 13 years, the boy and I had the same Spring Break, which happened to fall during WonderCon, so the boy accompanied me down to Anaheim.

I have to say, after a couple of years of doing these things, the most exciting reason to go is to see my friends and super-geek acquaintances.

Thus, shorty after we arrived, we went to see Barry, one of my favorite bartenders in all the world. After a ridiculously expensive dinner (just assume that every meal I mention is ridiculously expensive–bottles of water at the Convention Center are $3), we headed to bed so we could get a good night’s sleep. I think we slept for 11 hours–we both needed it.

And then it’s mostly a blur.

One day I was Zuul, the next I was Gaiman’s Death, and I ended up in my TARDIS dress for the last little morning. We saw some amazing costumes–including one little girl dressed as Death (her very lanky father was Dream), lots of Doctors, tons of Star Wars characters, a great spider, etc. etc. etc.

And I’m going to apologize now for not having many pictures. Neither the boy nor I are particularly bright about having the camera out and ready to go. (Selfishly, I would have wanted more pics of my costume, but getting the boy to take a picture of me is difficult for some reason.) However, the other reason for few pictures is how annoyed I get by the way traffic stops about every 10 seconds on the floor because of people taking pictures. No exaggeration. People ask someone in costume for a pic (a pic with the woman if the costume leaves little to the imagination–just a pic if it’s not a particularly revealing costume), the person always agrees, and then there’s the camera fiddling, the backing up to take up the entire aisle so you can get every inch of the person in the pic, etc.

Casual gathering of Star Wars costumes

I got to see my old friends–cartoonist/writer Lonnie Millsap, cartoonist/writer/co-founder of ComicCon Scott Shaw, Anthony Del Col, one of the authors of Kill Shakespeare, all the guys who work at Bongo Comics, etc.

And I got to sit in on some amazing panels, including both of Scott’s (one is his “Oddball Comics” routine; the other is the improv cartooning panel). There was also a writing panel with Jane Espenson (writer of Buffy etc), Amber Benson (Tara on Buffy), Patrick Rothfuss, Frank Feddor, and Ashley Edward Miller. Best piece of advice for writing science-fiction or fantasy? Set up your whole world–know it at an atlas/encyclopedia level–but show the audience about 10% of that. They don’t want to read an atlas or an encyclopedia.

Amber Benson also confided that she was so glad she’d gotten into writing/producing, so she didn’t have to spend her days down on the exhibit floor signing autographs.

I got to meet Jane Espenson on the last day, which was amazing. I basically fawned all over her. There was a little less fawning, but no less excitement when I got to meet Terry Moore and a very nice Canadian who’s going to be making an educational video-game to go with Kill Shakespeare. He’s moving to America (SoCal) soon, so he may come up when I teach Kill Shakespeare in my graphic novel class.

The coolest I played it was when I found myself sitting at the same communal table at the bar on the last night with several people from Dark Horse Comics. One of the guys had just hosted the Buffy comics panel. When it was finally revealed through conversation that I was a fan and had been to the panel, I had to admit that the only reason I hadn’t squealed already was that I was trying not to be a big ole fangirl.

My own panel went well. When “regular” geeks (as opposed to academic geeks/professional geeks) wander into the academic panels, they have a tendency to wander out again. However, none of the 40 or so people in the room while I was talking left, which means a lot there. (People will even leave a room when Joss Whedon is in it, which I can never quite understand–maybe they’re so excited that they’re shitting themselves?)

Speaking of Joss Whedon, I got to be in the giant arena room when they had the panel with Joss and several of the actors, and the cinematographer for Much Ado About Nothing. The movie looks fantastic–the props are modern (there are cell phones), but the dress/style of the piece is an old-fashioned screwball comedy, including the film being in black and white. Can’t wait.

I got a shout out from the Bongo Comics panel–during the Q&A, they introduced me to the rest of the audience and mentioned my book. And that was awesome!

But one of our very favorite things was a quiet dinner with Lonnie and Scott. Scott is a survivor of a different time, when there weren’t really girl geeks, when ComicCon was in a basement and mothers escorted their sons there to make sure they weren’t getting diddled by the counter-culture artists. And he’s one of the sweetest, funniest, most remarkable men I know. He spends an awful lot of time at conventions looking at the work of child cartoonists–he remembers them from year to year and encourages them to keep drawing, before drawing them something original to take home. Lonnie is a friend I know through Denise. (She can totally pick ’em!) Watching him get better and more famous every year is a great honor.

I left a little early so I could prep for my brand new Spring quarter–only to get home to a dark house. The power was out; my prepping plans were thwarted, but there was wine and Vanessa and Kevin and candles, and so we made it through.

Well, it’s Spring Break–so I’ve just finished grading my five classes, prepping for the four that start next Monday, and I’m in the middle of my annual IB grading.
But the boy and I are also heading down to WonderCon today (the only Con we’ll hit this year)–so we’ll get out of town, see some friends, and be somewhere I don’t have to feel guilty for not cleaning.
The quarter has been good, though. It was sad to say goodbye to my first ever graduate class (this was my second quarter with them) & my other classes were generally engaged.
Chris Higgins, author/college roommate, came down from Portland to give a talk as part of our Speaker’s Series, & I got some awesome people from the Berkeley lab to do the same.
Been hanging out a lot at Blackbird in Sacramento–so yummy, people!
Went to wine country twice–once to pick up some shipments with V & K (while there, we hit Turnbull, where I used to work and drank a lot. For free.)–and once with V & K & E & I to hit Turnbull’s blanc release party, complete with oysters and pulled pork sandwiches.
I threw an Oscar party, though not actually on Oscar night. You see, usually I have to run home to host the Oscar party after going to the Souper Bowl, but this year, I’d scored some concert tickets that night–so I ran to Napa after the Bowl. What concert was it? ALAN PARSONS PROJECT! As people who love me know, I love The Alan Parsons Project, and so it was a great pleasure to see them on the last night of the American tour with Ian (who graciously put up with me/it)–from the 4th row!
Melissa and Vanessa and I hit SF last month to see a world-premiere play, Dead Metaphor. The first act was really funny, but the second act wasn’t paced as well–still, it was fine. Unlike a certain student play I saw this term (cough.)
Haven’t been to the movie theatre much, but did see Zero Dark Thirty and Warm Bodies, which, in the words of Bridget Jones, is a searing vision of the wounds our century has inflicted on traditional masculinity. (Seriously, it is–it’s also got a little Romeo and Juliet thing going on.)
But really, the greatest thing about this quarter was that I was almost constantly with wonderful people, I got my work done, and I didn’t get bitten on the face by a spider (thought I did get knocked down a bit by the start of allergy season).

Next blog: WonderCon!

Finding myself single again right before the quarter started, I turned to OKCupid to find a potential partner or partners. I know that online dating can be daunting, but the prospect of finding a partner in a small town where half the population are undergrads isn’t promising, either.

OKCupid allows you post profile information, a picture, and to answer a LOT of questions. When you answer a question (would you rather sleep in or get up and do something on a Saturday? Do you prefer virgins? What does ‘wherefore’ mean in ‘wherefore art thou, Romeo?’), you can select your answer, acceptable answers for a partner, and rate the question’s/subject’s importance. OKCupid then tells you how compatible you are with any given person as a lover, as a friend, as an enemy. You can also see the answers of a potential mate if the person has answered publicly.

It’s a decent system, but it’s amazing how many men are managing to screw it up. Guys, if you want to date me (me–not just someone), here’s some advice.

1. Have a picture and some profile information up. When I get a message from a blank profile, I am hesitant to answer. If a stranger came up behind me in a store and asked, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”, I would want to turn around and get a sense of who was asking before I answered. Why do you think you get to be even more mysterious online?

2. Don’t say anything on your profile about ‘space camp.’ Unfortunately, OKCupid allows you to say things about your current job/education like “Dropped out of space camp.” It’s mildly funny on the first guy’s profile. It is not at all funny ever after. And many, many of you are doing it. (It’s sort of like thinking if you meet me, you can make a really original joke about “good Karma.”)

3. Don’t describe yourself as “just an average guy.” Why the hell would I want that? I want you to be above average at something. Average=boring. Average=normal. Karma=not boring, not normal.

4. When you make first contact, say something specific. If you want to up the odds that I’ll answer, ask a question. Many guys simply say “nice profile!” Ok. Thanks. It’s literally the least you can say besides “hi.” It’s also something you can say to all the girls. I have pictures of myself with a giant Bart Simpson, for heaven’s sake–I have given you something to comment on or ask about that shows you actually looked at my profile specifically.

5. If you’re very much older than I am, try not to say things that remind me of that fact. Several older men have said things that I know they mean as compliments, but that totally put me off. The two main ones: “you seem sweet” “you seem like a fun girl.”

A. I hope “sweet” isn’t the take-away from my profile. I do sweet things for the people I love, but I don’t walk around embodying “sweet.” In fact, “sweet” as a descriptor of a person (as opposed to an action) signals that you’re either discussing a very young child or a non-intellectual. I have never described an actual female friend as “sweet”–but I’ve called women I think are kind of dumb or naive that.

B. I can be fun, and I do call myself a girl sometimes, but I think if you’re trying to be my partner and you’re old enough to be my dad, you should refer to me as a woman.

6. You mustn’t be an asshole. By asshole, I mean racist, sexist, homophobic, severely Christian, etc. When I was first on the site, I kept getting emails from men who were rated an 80-something percent enemy because of their inability to see others as deserving of equal rights. At first, I tried to be nice. I would politely reply that since I am extremely liberal, I didn’t see a future between us, but that I wished them well. None of them took the hint. Each argued with me, usually, like one Lurch-look-alike did, by saying something like “but your pretti.”

Yes. And homophobes and racists and sexists don’t get to touch the pretty thing. (Even though I’m sure you would like to love me, and pet me, and squeeze me, and call me George.)

If you don’t believe my friends (whom I love–I don’t even know you), your fellow Americans, deserve equal rights, then I’m not going out with you. If you don’t believe women are equal to men, then you can’t be my partner. If you believe birth control is immoral, why would I let you anywhere near my baby-maker?

I eventually had to add a snotty paragraph on my page that explained that I didn’t want to hear from the phobes. A few guys persist, though. One man tried to argue that I needed to be around homophobes so I could understand their position. I assured him that I have homophobic students, community members, and family members to contend with. He stopped bothering me when I said I didn’t need to waste time dating someone I couldn’t respect, since I don’t take people I don’t respect to bed.

7. Note that I’m not applying to be anyone’s mistress. If you’re out to cheat, don’t contact me. Partners don’t sneak around. While I am open to being poly, I am not going to be part of your dishonesty, especially when you would probably not want your wife to have the same freedom.

I am a stradivarius, not anybody’s second fiddle.

Alexander and I left our house for the San Francisco airport at 9:30 Tuesday morning. We touched down in Helsinki at 5:30 Wednesday afternoon. Yup; long trip. (The Amsterdam airport has a children’s forest, a museum, a library, and an unhelpful clerk at the electronics store.)

Getting around the city is easy. Finnish has two official languages–Finnish and Swedish (cause the Swedes used to own us). In practice, though, everything is labeled at least thrice, with English underneath the other two languages. Some shops have completely English names, and we have yet to meet anyone who doesn’t speak it. Still, it feels the same level of foreign as Madrid did.

Once we put the stuff down in our rooms, we headed out to a traditional Russian restaurant in search of bear, which the boy wanted to try. They were sold out, so we had reindeer instead. I think we both would have enjoyed it more if we weren’t so exhausted. We got home at nine, and it was time for bed.

Today began with a breakfast buffet filled with interesting choices. Then I headed off to my conference while Alexander went to the zoo. The other participants, at least the ones I saw, were all reading their papers while seated. I stood and spoke with a few lines of notes and a colorful powerpoint. My topic? The Simpsons. People seemed to enjoy my presentation; they were awed at my being allowed to teach The Simpsons. Many said their nations (European ones) were too puritanical to allow the teaching of pop culture.

It was strange. I teach and write about pop culture so often; I’m even an editor of The Journal of Popular Culture. I’m just not used to having to explain or defend its use in the classroom, so it was invigorating to be challenged to do so. While some of my European colleagues were slightly incredulous about what I get to do, others were just clearly envious.

After my talk, I took myself and my growing headache down to the pier to meet the boy. On the way, I saw a diplomatic ceremony with a military band honoring visiting dignitaries. The boy caught up with me in the market, where we had a great lunch from a stall. I had what tied the previous best salmon of my life; it was so perfectly seasoned and fresh that I didn’t reach for the salt (and those who know me know I always reach for the salt). The boy had reindeer sausage. The American couple behind us in line had a loud conversation about how the wife would not be having reindeer, as she was convinced it would taste “weird.”

We then toured the Russian Orthodox cathedral and headed west to a converted church that’s now a disco. It’s supposed to be named after the boy’s namesake (Dante), but the sign wasn’t out front, so we couldn’t get a picture. We stopped in at a British pub and continued our ridiculous quest for souvenirs. Mom wants a long-sleeved t-shirt, which doesn’t seem to exist here. And I’m not buying a sweatshirt (50$!; everything is extremely expensive here). Wish I didn’t have to spend any time shopping.

At last, we ended up at a guidebook-recommended traditional Finnish restaurant. It was beautiful, with traditional dress & carved wood everywhere (even the menu was mounted in thick wood). I had a champagne cocktail with Finnish berry liquor. Then I had a Karelian stew (mashed potatoes, excessively tender meat, and pickled pumpkin/berries). The boy had bear meatballs with root vegetables in an amazing sauce that we couldn’t quite identify. Dessert was a Finnish brandy and “sisu” ice cream over summer berry compote.

Sisu is a word with no translation–it is supposed to be the aspect of Finnish character–it’s our stubbornness, our steadfastness, our loyalty, our perseverance.

In terms of ice cream, it’s a slight anise flavor (apparently).

So. Good.

But the brandy made my eyes water when I smelled it. I got the same shiver from just inhaling that I thought would come from drinking it. Alex said it smelled like apples. It did, if you marinated apples in gasoline–it was very strong.

The boy was so jet lagged and so tired from walking all day that he literally nodded off at the table. So here we are back at the hotel, with him asleep and with me writing this.

Where conditioner should be in the bathroom, there’s lingonberry bubble bath. Am tempted to try it.

(Still can’t upload pics; will make a facebook album at some point, though.)

I’ve been a very naughty blogger. The summer has gotten away from me, and what with all the work and the play, I’ve fallen behind.

Here’s a short catch up:

I haven’t managed to stop teaching at all. I’ve had three classes this summer (including a new one: 20th Century British Literature: Sex and Science), which means hours and hours of lecture, lots of grading, and a total of 26 book length works that I’ve had to read along with the students. This week will give me a bit of a break, but on the condition of trying to be brilliant at a conference.

I’ve managed to catch up with some old friends and to make some new ones. Most of the best stuff this summer was simply being with other people.

I cooked a lot. Had cocktails with Vanessa and Kevin a lot (while watching the HBO summer shows). Went wine tasting with Pat a couple of times. Hit Bodega Bay finally and filled my senses with the glories there. Spent quite a few weekends in San Francisco.

I’ve edited my first edition of Prized Writing–it will be at the bookstore at UC Davis soon.

I got to see Weird Al Yankovic perform twice in the same weekend (and got a picture with him!) His performance was stunning as always!

Got to see Steve Martin perform with the Steep Canyon Rangers at Mondavi–the banter was funny and the music was amazing.

Few movies and few plays, but I did get to see War Horse for my birthday (as part of my outstanding birthday weekend) — it’s difficult to describe the beauty of the horse puppets that make this show come alive. It was three puppeteers for each lead horse, with movements so real that I flinched whenever they were hurt. You could even tell when the horses were upset by the way they were breathing.

Noel Coward’s famous Blythe Spirit was on at Cal Shakes. Coward’s writing is still crisp, clever, and relevant.

The biggest news, however, is that the boy is now driving himself to school. His aunt Melissa basically gave him her old car. I put some money in to fix it up, taught him how to drive without either of us getting hurt, and put him on my insurance. His classes have started, so he’s out on the causeway twice a day. Wish him luck and patience.

He’s off to the conference with me; I’ll let you know how we do in the land of our ancestors.

(Would have included pictures, but the picture uploader is broken again . . .)

So this week, I packed my Zuul costume and too much eyeliner and headed down to Comic-Con. So did 149,999 other people (well, not the zuul part). I managed to make it out in time to get into preview night, where I saw my friends Scott Shaw and Lonnie Millsap. I was also able to talk to the artist for Kill Shakespeare (one of the writers, Anthony, is skyping in with my class this next Wednesday).

Karma & Scott

Then, on the way home, I was lured in to a downtown restaurant by a live rockabilly band.

So it was a good start. I won’t give you a day by day play by play, as it’s all a bit of a blur now, but here are the highlights.

1. Margaret Atwood was here for a Bradbury retrospective panel. Naturally, when she walked past me in the hall, I caught up to her to get a picture. I lovingly reminded her that I edit her journal and that I used to be her Society’s president. I hoped she didn’t think I was weird for being dressed as Death. I also completely ignored the two relatively famous authors with her, except for when I requested that they take our picture:

2. One of the times I wandered over to the Bongo booth (which I do once a day whenever they’re near), Matt Groening was there! Now, I’ve met several Simpsons/Futurama people (and I love my Bongo guys), but I’d never met the big man. So I got Nathan Kane’s (the new exec whom I’d just met the day before) attention and got him to take a picture of us. Nathan was very patient and Matt remembered something I’d left at the studio for him a year ago. I thanked him profusely for my entire academic career and successfully didn’t wet myself.

3. The Simpsons panel: Did I get to see the new Maggie short? Did I miss the Futurama panel due to the absurd line? Was Carrie Fisher briefly on stage? Yes. Yes. Yes.

4. Zach was there! When I flipped through the program the first time, I didn’t see Zach Weinersmith (of SMBC fame)’s name, but he was there! Zach has spoken to my class and to UCD at large. His work is hilarious, and it’s always nice to see him. Alexander is going to be totally jealous (the sign says “hi, Alex”)!

5. I got to see Joss Whedon! Okay–I’m not one for standing in lines, but I did get in line for The Simpsons and for Joss Whedon. I mean, I’ve given three different presentations this year on Joss’s work, so I had to go. Joss is hilarious. He riffed on how he’s his own favorite production company (he really gets what he’s trying to do), threatened to murder some guy’s family (after the guy said killing our favorites appeared to be Joss’s thing), talked about being a girl who can’t say no when it comes to projects (don’t think anyone else in the room got the Oklahoma reference), complained about the lack of strong women in the media and female action figures all looking like porn stars, and asserted that our country was no longer about blue and red–it’s about people who believe in the dignity of themselves and others and wackos who believe Jesus personally founded America.

6. I got to dress up. As Death: And as Zuul: That guy totally tried to drink my margarita:

7. I got to be in the same room as the following people at some point (besides those I already mentioned): Joe Magtegna, Yeardley Smith, Romo Lampkin, Joe Hill, Kristin Bauer van Straten, Sarah Wayne Callies, Anna Torv, Lucy Lawless.

8. There were protestors! Yes, apparently people who love Jesus don’t love Comic-Con. As someone dressed alternately as one of the Eternals and a Babylonian demi-god, I tried not to start a fight. I did, however, note to myself that there are people starving in San Diego right now who probably could have used some help if someone actually wanted to enact WWJD stuff.

9. Saw some awesome panels and things on the floor. The highlight, of course, was Scott Shaw’s presentation of wonderful sex, drugs, and rocknroll covers. One example:

Our panel on Superman (my particular talk was on Mark Millar’s Red Son) went well. One of the first people I met introduced himself as a Tea Party member and said we might not get along. I said that the text merely indicated that we needed to put aside ideology to find pragmatic solutions to our problems. He smiled and nodded, but left halfway through. The rest of the audience seemed to grok me, however.

10. People were in awesome costumes!

On my way to class

to teach people how to write

with style

to unlearn bad habits

where I try to make everything

a story

& then I see the blood

smudged all over one hand

from where I’ve unconsciously

picked at my thumb

I didn’t feel anything

but I can’t teach

visibly bloody

so I lick the wound like an animal

test to see if it wells again

walk into class

knowing

the blood under my fingernail

will darken all morning.

There are two main teaching buildings at UCD. The bathrooms in both are abysmal. Out of toilet paper on Monday at noon? Of course!
However, one stall makes up for it. In fact, the other day, when I discovered the stall was taken, I considered waiting for it even though all the other ones were open.
What makes it so special?
The Doctor Who graffiti.

It occurs to me that if anyone noticed I was taking pictures in the bathroom stall, they probably thought I was crazy. I’m not crazy (for doing that).