MisCon-ception

We had a lot of fun at MisCon over the Memorial Day Weekend, although it started out as a near-fiasco. Thursday morning we ate lunch at home so we could leave at noon; the bus from Griffles to the Invisible Suburb leaves at 2:50. Then Car-girl had to pick up a Jeremy to take him his McLunch, stop at the bank, stop at the gas station, & let another Jeremy drive us crazy to an early grave. When we left Loma a terrible panic attack hit me up until we were halfway to Butte. Then the bus driver arrived late. When we finally arrived the motel complained about Karen's credit card, so we almost didn't get to stay there.

Friday I had a McGriddle for brecchie, & we hung out until registration opened. That night we ate at the 4Bs, then went with the group to the opening of X-Men 3, which was real atomic.

Saturday we slept in real bad 'cause it was late when we finally went to bed, but then I met Bill Warren in the Hostility Room. He's an artist who's interested in looking at my Hog.

Sunday we had a b-b-q. At least it stopped raining long enough to let us eat. It was cool & rainy all weekend.

Then when we left the taxi was late, the bus was late, but we got to Griffles like a rocket-man: on time. Then we had to call Car-girl for a ride, which used up 70 minutes total of our phone card. We had to call her twice 'cause she got lost.

Then yesterday we discovered that Trish might have skin cancer on her teddy bear. She was upset, especially on the phone to her mom, but watching Paycheck cheered her up.

Rootboy Canal

Yeah, & there's intelligent life on Mars & they built canals there; the new & mutated Mars is the planet Lucifer, where Becca has her own personal Mindstorms -- gotta clear up some of the hallucination, the Critters have made that clear.

So the Rootboy canal occurred yesterday, when Car-girl took me to Malta. Trish woke up early that day, worried about her tumor. God & I hope it's not cancer. To amuse myself while waiting for Car-girl I tried to figure out the coda of The Crystal Ship. We picked up a veggie burrito on the way out of town. The procedure itself was more tedious than it was painful, though my jaws ached quite a bit when he finished. As soon as he finished I ran for the bathroom, then called Bumble Bee Girl.

When we arrived here Trish had us mostly packed for our trip to MisCon, with a message that Jeffer Auss had called. We almost missed Ken's phone call; he made it while we were preparing to go to El Taco Loco for Crazy Tacos. After we ate there Jeffer came over & installed the final L-pad on my rear speakers.

Today the Invisible Car-girl will take us to Griffels, to hop the magic bus to the Invisible Suburb. We will not be heading down Dawn's Highway, instead we'll be heading into twilight. Night divides the Day & I think Dr. Day has quit practicing. I know he had me all under-medicated.

So once we leave the City of Invisible we'll be on the bus for 5 hours. We'll need to eat at McRonald's or something, grab a sandwich & Mr. Fruity. (They have it in Japan.) Trish is, of course, excited about the trip 'cause we're both in the masquerade this year. She's Trisha the Insect Slayer & I'm the Bumble Bee Beast.

The only things that could conceivably cause a lurid pallor this vacation are Trish's biopsy & my mother's deteriorating condition. Some email from John arrived yesterday about making preparations for an impending funeral; how we get the body back home &c &c. I called the Invisible funeral home & sent their 800 number to Fearless Taco. Perhaps the funeral will be the last chance I have of seeing my family, all save Biggie 'cause the skinny dog will probably tell him she "ruined his life for 17 years". I wish we could do something about the Karen Relationship, but I think Biggie has to find out himself she's a gold digger.

biopsy

Trish & I rode the Invisible Taxi up to the Invisible Clinic yesterday, after Car-girl dropped us off home from Pizza Hut. I went to the Layout with Trish yesterday & ate Cheri's Indian tacos after Trish walked to Earth. Clean Noncorean asked about her driving & Trish blew up, but then when she was gone I got a Noncorean apology.

Car-girl picked me up around 1:00. We took Smelly Bear to the office so Aimee could babysit him. Then we went to the Invisible Laundy-mat to wash our clothes for the trip. We picked up some twin blades at the Downtown Buckadingdong Store, then went to Pizza Hut to pick up the Mighty Insect Slayer.

We arrived at the Clinic late, so we didn't get out until late. Dr. Marino wants to do the pre-op for a biopsy of the callous on Trish's foot on the 27th -- our wedding anniversary. The actual surgery will be done on the 28th, & then she'll have to wait a week to a week & 1/2 to stay off her feet.

God & I need to sell a comic book or something fast so we can have some buckadingdongs. Maybe I'll send "Relayer" off to Baen's Universe soon.

shot day

Today is shot day, another flashing chance at bliss: I shoot the Orgasm-Death. Maybe the trials & tribulations of Blanket-man will seem less when Perky Pam puts a spike into my vein, but over the weekend -- Joe to the contrary: "you can't force someone to seek treatment & expect the government to pay for it" -- I looked up the address of the county attorney for Farm Ridge so Biggolith can also get a spike into his vein. What bothers me is how no one else in the family has a bit of compassion for the guy. John used to always rationalize his paranoia: "So you see, sometimes people's mail really does get opened".

Yesterday was a day of work for Trish. Our morning was typical. In the afternoon, I re-made/re-modeled "Relayer", but am unsure if I should re-Critter it. Kim came over just when Trish called, & she actually said, "See you later" when she left. Ed & Denise invited us over for dinner. We had b-b-q pork chops, bean salad, the tough old slop & bread with sunflower seeds as well as the meat. Then we had a bunch of birthday cupcakes after watching the glass teat for awhile, which is Invisible Hog speak for TV.

I hope Trish can make it to & from work OK today. It's supposed to be thunderstorms with gusty winds & small hail. I'd like her to drive, but I think she's still scared. Kenneth said he got into a bunch of small scrapes when he called yesterday. He plans to call back this evening for Trish's birthday. I love my Bumble Bee Girl.

they say it's her birthday -- it was my birthday too, yeah

Today the deluxe & delightful Bumble Bee Girl turned 39. Well, at least she's still Jung, Xianity gathering in the shadows of an unconscious animism relegating awareness to... Pookie Bear! So far, we haven't picked up any birthday presents, not even from her doodyman. She has to work today. Pizza Hut gave her Friday & Saturday off this week. She works until Thursday, when we leave Invisible City for MisCon. Car-girl is taking us to the City of Electric Light to hop the bus down to Helena & from there up to Missoula. I'm really looking forward to this trip, which hopefully will not be dumb A.S.S.. Kangaroo Jack can shove his Amerinds up his ass.

Yesterday Trish slept in until 9:00. whereas I woke up at 5:45. I did my Internet stuff, then worked on "Relayer" for a bit. I have the new ending pretty well drafted. I suppose now I'll have to make up subtitles. I called Joe about what to do about David & he said, "You can't force someone to seek treatment." Bullshit. Monday I'm calling the county attorney where the Biggolith lives & seeing what the procedure is for locking him up until the haldol is in his blood & the blood is in his head. Joe also complained about releasing mental patients because of "lack of money" which is crap. Besides, Joe with his OOBEs is probably a unipolar manic himself. John also wants to wait until Dave is dead to do something, so I guess it's up to me. I can afford a long-distance call & I don't want to see my brother dead & blind before he seeks help.

Trish & I went to lunch around 12:30 to El Taco Loco before Trish's haircut appointment. Afterwards I pulled weeds in the front yard; Up-&-Atom will be chopping down the ones in the alley -- we got another one of those "nuisance weeds" things in the mail. Once Trish was done with the kitchen we both napped for awhile, then went down in the basement to watch videos until bedtime.

they say its

pretty bad A.S.S. blues

The mighty Insect Slayer is currently cruising with Trish-uh! in her bat-mobile (www.onewest.net/~jbauer/batmans.car) while I sit at home, poisoned as though by curare by a harsh rejection slip from some Australian Space Shit. This morning the alarm clock disturbed the dream work while it was still all rosy cross, so I took a shower & nearly forgot to take my medicine. I didn't realize I hadn't taken it until after I reached for my toothbrush. The water bill arrived this morning, 5 buckadingdongs 'cause Karen had overpaid it, so we took some money out of the Iron Claw Credit Union while Trish walked to work & I went to the Silver Rectangle Upstairs to see Joe (Nobodaddy calls him by his last name). When the session was about over Trish called to say McPizza gave her the day off. We ate at the Soup Kitchen, where some nutty Fundamentalist was raving about the da Vinci Code & the Gospel of Judas & didn't have a clue as to the history of Xianity. We went out to Fat Albert's Sons to pick up some diet Mr. Fruity, cereal & veggies. Trish cleaned house up to a few minutes ago, when she left for her TA & I had her T&A last nite & God said it was good, & un-Leary of Kimothy.

I suppose that I'll get back to work on "Relayer" but I'm a little afraid to. After having my Space Literature badly insulted by an amateur publication I'm feeling hurt -- but I simply must remember that it's an amateur publication, so unprofessional behavior is to be expected.

Dumb A.S.S.

A.S.S. is Andromeda Space Shit. Andromeda Space Shit is a crappy amateur & amateurish science fiction magazine out of Australia. Editor Robbie Matthews & their entire staff can go fuck themselves. True, they put hold requests on 2 of my stories -- but "Fragile Eggshell Mind" came back Monday with a page of insults. Some clown who thinks he knows a lot about science -- & doesn't -- called my work "badly over-written", "positively funny" & "atrociously bad science", & in addition committed the faux pas of calling Native Americans "Amerindians". My feelings were hurt so bad I just watched movies all day, & didn't feel like cooking supper, so we ordered a Canadian bacon pizza instead.

Yesterday Car-girl & I were supposed to go out to Kame-Apart to buy new blue jeans (you know what I mean), but Kathy Upstairs (& Ashley Olson) misplaced the check, so we cruised around in the convertible for awhile, then she read the letter I'd written to nerd-boy about his shitty magazine. She concluded that I shouldn't send it & to just forget about it, but today I forwarded the note to aburt, with the hope that, even if SFWA can't help, he could at least alert Critters that Andromeda Space Shit is a piece of shit.

So this morning I called Car-girl about clothes shopping, & we went to the Upstairs to pick up my check, then to the bank to cash it & some money for Trish's squeegee. She doesn't want to drive now because of tree sap on the window.

Car-girl found me a pair of jeans & then I ate at the Kame-Apart Eatery, just a Bozo Burger & flies. When I arrived home I checked my email -- a lot of spam & some Drugster stuff -- & then sent aburt my opinion of Andromeda Space Shit. Hopefully, I can get back to normal & be able to continue work on "Relayer" again soon.

happy family, one hand clap

Today I awoke around 8:00 -- Benedryl last night -- after Trish & I stayed up to see Will & Grace after watching her Scream movie. Yesterday Fred & I worked on Crystal Ship -- the streets of Phoenix are force-fields that never die. While we were jamming Trish-uh! called to say that she couldn't meet with Trish yesterday, that they'd have to do it today. Fred stayed around long enough to hear my (almost) re-made/re-modeled (Jeffer still has to stick an L-pad in the rear) speakers. The front sounds a lot cleaner with the new crossovers in place. Fred volunteered to give Trish a ride home from Down Under, so while he trucked back to the East End in his batmobile I wrote a long letter to Hope.

I'm still waiting to hear from Azimuth's on "To Fight in the Sky". I decided to risk the postage on Sheila Williams. Gardner was a much more fun editor. It should take about another month to hear on their form. Meanwhile, I hope to start a sequel/Metatron Ch.2 on the short story: it was initially intended as Metatron Ch.1. I also want to start work on my new Farber story.

Trish is becoming excited about MisCon. I found out this morning that we may be attending the premiere of X-3. Gosh-wow! I can't wait to see them "mutants" wage war upon Man until they turn into homo superior.

beyond Ogdoad & Sisyphus

Little Lucinda called the other day, a belated birthday message. We talked about the Doors for awhile, & she visited with my wife.

Car-girl & I weren't able to do TA yesterday, as she had to go somewhere with Kelly. This was OK with me, as I had a doctor's appointment anyway; rode the cab to the Clinic. The hives have totally disappeared, so I don't need to take benadryl anymore -- though I may take a single pill as a sleeping aid for awhile; took one last night & then slept in until 8:00, when the alarm went off.

I'm seeing much more clearly now, even though I'm still expecting a new lens at Invisible Optometric. It was supposed to be in yesterday, but the company mailed them the wrong lens.

Trish & I walked out to the Invisible Subway yesterday for a veggie with bacon & some chips. I enjoyed myself watching Canadian Bacon while she took a bath. She is seeing Trish-uh! this afternoon, & insisted on 20 buckadingdongs for gas today. We get paid from Pizza Hut one more time before our trip, & hopefully the price of bus tickets won't have gone up by then.

I sent CNN.com my little story about the bozos in the Bush administration opening Joey's package. I just wish I wouldn't have thrown away the envelope. President Gas is all for President!

light of night

Today is both happy & melancholy, a blue Sunday shot thru with dawn color; fluorescent pink dawn color at that, raping the thighs of Night. I'm happy -- I've been able to see well enough to do a couple rewrites of "Relayer" (whose ending is still too Trekkie & needs a lot of work). The melancholy? I'm not really sad, more like sedated -- the Benadryl is in my blood & the blood is in my head: this morning I took one at 6:30 & fell asleep until 9:00, the first time that I got up that late in ages. I'm just relaxing while the Mighty Insect Slayer cleans the kitchen.

Yesterday Trish had to work, to make up for taking Wednesday off, which is Say Bra for you. I ate at the soup kitchen -- a terribly imbalanced meal; besides the soup (a good component), there was Heinz baked beans (get saucy), corn on the cob, baked potato, grapes, & cake -- I really have to start asking them to stop putting desserts on my tray. I spent the afternoon on "Relayer", using one of the few helpful crits I received. When Trish came home we rewatched Aeon Flux before taking it back to the vid-store, then I fell asleep thru most of the Mask of Zorro while Trish was in the shower.

Just for the hell of it, this morning I read thru Crit #1 of "Relayer", the one that'd made it obvious I'd sent in the wrong draft. It sounded like it came from a retarded teeny-bopper who's into "skiffy". First, he did nothing but lecture me about how a story must have "a point" & be "like foothills leading to a mountain", then he exhorted me to "purge the story of 'was', beginning with the first sentence" -- isn't it obvious that this is coming from one of those idiots who read Strunk & White & other "books on writing"? -- then he called the science "a bunch of mumbo jumbo", which if he can't understand any ideas more complex than the comic book level, what's he doing reading SCIENCE fiction? Jennifer Flipped me off the same way, but at least the other Critters had some brains, albeit some of them were erased for being of the wrong draft. That damn retarded high school kid has me so pissed off I'm thinking of writing a "was" random enumeration just to spite the fucking Elements of Style. In addition, he called Tina "a junkie" for using Soma (which a few Critters thought was an allusion to 1984), which shows off his monumental ignorance. I think I'll go ahead & delete my deleted items folder, which may also rid me of the lesbian Trekkie who complained about my "male fantasy".

I wish I'd never read that kid's crit. He can cram his Strunk & White up his ass.

Risperdal Blues (Friday & not Sunday)

I just got back from our food stamp appointment long enough to see Trish off on her last day of work for the week. She has been having a hard time over my loss of vision & a dozen other things, so she called in sick for one day on the advice of a therapist.

That was Wednesday, my birthday. Trish had to call the crisis line 'cause she was suicidal, & even more suicidal about me being suicidal -- today I write with guarded optimism. Anyway, Ed & Denise brought over some cake & ice cream. The night before I'd woke up at 1:20 & went back to bed around 2:20, writing apologies to a lesbian lady who didn't like my last Critters submission -- but she relented when she saw the rewrite.

I began to suffer from a weird rash Tuesday & finally saw a doctor about it Thursday. Since it began about the time Suzanne upped my Risperdal, that's what I expected to be the cause -- though I also noted to the physician's assisted that I've been taking the drug for 2-1/2 years without this side effect. The PA was stymied, so I had a chance to talk to Dr. Nolan himself. He said it's "urticaria", & could be due to either a viral infection or the increase in Risperdal, that it's dose related, hence it didn't show up until I started to take 8 mg.s instead of 6. They gave me an antibiotic, a salve, & some benadryl & made an appointment for me to come back in a week. At this point they'll evaluate whether or not it's due to a virus or a side-effect.

I have been feeling much better about my lack of vision. I saw the eye doctor Wednesday & they can improve it somewhat with a new lens. Also, we may be getting a new copy of MS-Word, so that I can use the text magnifier on it.

I am including a link (see below) on Risperdal side effects.

http://www.rxlist.com/cgi/generic/risperid_ad.htm

she sleeps sweetly

Trish is in bed right now, finally sleeping -- & even sleeping in. Sunday night she had a real tough time & only got about 3 hours of sleep. Some of her paranoia was bizarre, too: "The waitresses at Pizza Hut are following me home & dumping bird shit on my car windows so I can't drive". I mentioned this when I was in to see Joe, & then Noncorean Downstairs insulted Trish, on top of everything else going wrong for her that day, too. When she came home I made her nap, & she wanted her sweet Pookie Bear to nap with her.

I also slept well last night, as I took 2 temazapam. I'd been experimenting with going off it, as I thought that the increased Risperdal might help me sleep. It didn't.

This morning I found some real nasty email in my inbox from some lesbian. She'd reviewed "Relayer" for me, but had done the wrong version. She also wound up offending me as her tone was "I hate men" & not at all diplomatic. I wound up apologizing for trashing her trashing me, but a review of the wrong version of a story is still of no use to me.

sleepless in Invisible -- again, beautiful friend

Last night was tough on me & even tougher on Trish. We had to get her up early (the other night I got her up hard with Mr. Friendly & she had a terminal orgasm), so we went to bed early, right after we finished watching Coyote Ugly down in the basement. I'd holed up there to watch movies while she did housecleaning to Dance Music (dance surround, too). When she finished she came to join me & watch a couple things.

So at bedtime I wanted to experiment with reducing my temazapam & only took one -- & finally took another 2 at 1:00 AM. She finally got to sleep around 3:00-4:00 & then after breakfast I went over to Joe's office to talk about how I'm coping with the partial blindness.

Karen had a long talk with Trish while I was in session -- Trish's paranoia is on the rise again; she thought that the waitresses at Pizza Hut had deliberately followed her home from work in order to throw bird crap on her car window.

When Trish put her cup away downstairs I couldn't deal with the Aggravation or the Clean Noncorean so I came home. It's like I'm the only person at Iron Claw House who has any goals -- & "the typewriter is part of his illness" to all of them there. It's just like it was with those 3 chicks in the hospital -- same as it ever was.

Then I came home & found yet another crit of the wrong version of "Relayer" in my inbox. Apparently it came from a real lesbian who has no clue as to how to write. I deleted it, read the stuff from [GThom] (they're doing the Gospel of Judas now) & then reread it in with the deleted items.

BTW, Vickie if you're reading this, fraternal twins run in families; identical don't.