Too Long For Twitter

Did Someone Say Hurricane Party?

So, Hurricane Sandy is dead set on screwing up the schedules and lives of what must be nearly person in the North East. High winds, blizzards and floods, with what is expected to be millions of us without power for a potentially long time.  Because none of our children live with us, I am not as prepared as I would be with them here.

Long ago, we stopped keeping our “Bunker” well stocked, as it’s just the two of us now. Since we’ve moved into the home we share with another family, which includes two young and energetic girls, we are still ready for most potential disasters. Note: If anyone has an app that protects your home from falling trees/flying objects, please link in the comments?

I have to mention, since it literally just occurred, that if the spontaneous explosion of pain in my noggin is anything to measure by, the changes in the barometric pressure have me already grateful that I’m stocked up with medication. If necessary, I can ride it out with Prince Vicodin and Sandman Soma.

I am now thrilled that we were too broke to spring for a New York City 9th and 10th anniversary celebration for Chooch and I for our November 1st, 9th and 10th anniversaries (9 years married, 10 years since our first official date).

Just having returned from the final grocery trip, I am happy to say that our local community is clearly trying to observe the warning to stay home, as the roads were way less crowded than expected, as was the store itself. Businesses were closing, and I watched stores empty into parking lots as people hurried along.

We are nestled in, I have made sure my sons are safe and there is little left to do, other than some cooking before we potentially lose power– Barbeque chicken in the crockpot (only 2 more hours!), plus sugar cookies for the girls we live with to decorate on Halloween again this year. All our devices are charged and we are splurging on electricity as much as we can.

In truth, I almost wish for a power outage.  It never happens here, the weather is mild and there is so much going on that I, uh, well… I kind of tingle at the idea of primitive living. Using devices sparingly means things get down to basics. Happily, we have flashlights and batteries, candles and many, many books and board games.

I suppose the scary part would be getting cut off from our Beloveds, and being sure they are all well. But not having electricity means that you let go and streamline. Your control over their, and your own, situation is all just worry in your own mind. Useless.



~~~Please be safe, stay where you are if possible and among everything else you are being warned about, take care with children and animals around downed power lines as well as lit candles or flames.

And, from George Takei’s Facebook post earlier today:
As things intensify, if you need to let others know you’re ok or to search for loved ones, here is one resource:

Too Long For Twitter

Modesty vs. Halloween

There have been a metric butt-ton of these types of Facebook posts:


I opted out of slutty again last year. I lost my mind over a hamster costume that completely covered me. It was not sexy in any way. While it was not my intention to wear something quite so burlap sack-y, I was beyond excited as it was reminiscent of Hamtaro (but not licensed as such).
Not slutty and full of happy memories of watching the cartoon with LT? Hellz yeah!

I was given pink bunny pj’s at Christmas, so this year I’ll be wearing glasses and rocking Ovaltine in my pimp stein. Unless we get washed away in

Happy Halloween and be safe with merry making with the bad weather and so on. Call a cab if you get even mildly sauced. Trust me, you don’t want to piss off this hamster.


“Firefly: Browncoats Unite” to Air on 11/11/12

Science Channel’s FIREFLY Sunday extravaganza begins at 7AM ET/PT with an all-day marathon of the series.  Then, at 10PM ET/PT, the event Browncoats everywhere have been waiting for – FIREFLY: BROWNCOATS UNITE premieres on Science Channel. – from Cinema Blend, dtd 10/25/12.

WTF, friends, tweeps, internet and everyone else? A new Firefly anything and I heard not a peep before now? I know, it’s my own fault, really. Life has kept us busy and I’ve been unable to keep up with everything going on outside of the day-in/day out. And it’s not as if it’s a new movie or series. But it’s sure as hell a great way to spend a Sunday.

A description of what will air:

The 60-minute special includes secrets from the set, exclusive cast interviews, and footage from this year’s colossal Comic-Con panel that dominated the pop culture conversation.  Joining Whedon and Fillion for FIREFLY: BROWNCOATS UNITE are Serenity crewmembers Sean Maher, Summer Glau, Adam Baldwin, Morena Baccarin, Alan Tudyk, Gina Torres and Jewel Staite; along with executive producer Tim Minear and executive story editor Jose Molina.

After being blessed enough to have briefly met Jewel Staite and watched “Jayne” and “Simon” with her on a panel at Dragon*Con, I can say that I will be fully tuned in to watch it, as the three demonstrated what must have been great fun they had during the filming of Firefly and Serenity. I saw some real douchebags on some other panels, and it changed my opinion on their work. Not true with Jewel, Adam or Sean. Now knowing that I really would love to sit down and hang out with them for a bit, I greatly anticipate the show.

At least set it to record on your DVR, people!

Health Uncategorized


I’m thinking out loud here, sharing a few experiences during this, Breast Cancer Awareness month. It’s been a blur the last few weeks, as we face many unknowns on many fronts, nearly all in the control of others, but the constant thread throughout the year has been cancer. Not just my own brushes with it as doctors run various tests and even, just this last summer, for our middle son, LT. Nope, MANY others that I love have dealt with the terror of cancer recently– a staggering and heart breaking number.

And normally I wouldn’t write a confessional like this for fear of poking at anyone’s wounds on the subject of cancer. So if you’re one of those people, you’re just going to have to stop reading here or continue knowing that I’m raw and writing with little censoring.

I’ve been digging in deep in therapy, facing my cancer fears and, as my Momma taught me long ago (after 3 known generations of a breast cancer death sentence), exerting control over it where I can:

  • by vigilantly performing breast self-exams;
  • by staying up on new possible risk factors;
  • ensuring that what I consider to be essential dietary requirements are met;
  • never, ever missing an annual physical or mammogram.

So, as it happened, this year my annual exam best worked out on my 43rd birthday. It was just one of many things that defined the day in a special way, particularly because of the love and patience my husband showed me.

While at the appointment, I was given an order for a mammogram. I have them annually and have for years. I don’t fear them, I welcome them. Find the little fuckers before they can spread to my lymph nodes, because Holy Hell you don’t want to happen.

I put it with an order I already had for back x-rays, deciding to make the appointment within the week.

Then I got a call from my doctor’s office, relaying my extremely trusted doctor’s need to discuss abnormal results from the pap test portion of the exam. I wasn’t terrified, because it was the second one I’d had, the last being 15 years ago and the follow up testing and annual testing in the intervening years have been normal. I was also terrified, because it was the second abnormal and if it had been missed all this time then it had 15 years to secretly fill my body.


I already had a full day of laundry, and shopping for baking and an already too-full To Do list, but the plans went out the window and the race to see her began. She explained it was likely nothing, but she doesn’t mess around when it comes to me and reproductive cancers. After she opted for a pelvic ultrasound, I snatched the order for that test and the other two and dragged my dazed and raw self to the imaging center I prefer. (A phrase I hoped never to say.)

The ultrasound, with a fresh 32 ounces in my distended bladder was unpleasant but over quickly, and with great relief I headed off to tinkle when I was then told of the shocking (to me) internal component that I was not warned of. Again, ever seeking more information on life-threatening matters, I leapt into the necessaries, and was beyond relieved when I was given the all-clear on Monday. (Huzzah!) In related news, my left ovary is bashful.

One down, two to go, and I don’t really know what to wish for regarding the back x-rays. That left me with the mammogram results to sweat out. I try to act like I wasn’t worried, but I always am. After leaving my doting husband, and his comforting hand in mine (Thank God for Chooch), in the waiting room, I liken the feeling I get to being a little girl reaching up for my Mom’s hand to guide me through it the rest of the way. Luckily, although she died almost 7 years ago from breast cancer, she never disappoints. (Thank God for Mom.)

So a phone call from my doctor today, followed by a notice from the imaging center that there is again an area of concern in a new location, and I have to go back for a breast ultrasound and what I think of as a targeted compression mammogram. I’ve had multiple ultrasounds over the years and one targeted compression mammogram. That year, I had photographed the room, the machine and different steps involved in the hopes of de-mystifying the mammogram experience of an ordinary patient.

Before I could even edit the photos and write the post, I had gotten the notice of the area of concern and need for further testing. Even having gotten the all-clear, it felt like tempting the fates to post it. This year, I again stopped myself from taking my camera to finally write a blog post. No jinxies.


Am I getting better at handling and processing terrors? Is therapy helping? Or, with all the other nasty surprises the year has brought our direction, am I just burned out?

Tomorrow I schedule that test, hopefully Monday. Now, how many tests can you have come back negative before the odds send home a positive? As in, “You have tested positive for cancer.” Wait, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.

Even scarier, what if something is wrong and I hadn’t gone for my annual exam and/or mammogram?

And yes, I know, everything is going to be fine. In fact, I’ve even been able to find a thin sliver of a silver lining, if you can believe my gall, if the worst is true. So, there’s that.

Please, everyone, if you haven’t gone for your annual physicals yet this year, schedule them now. 

There is more than simply breast cancer to be vigilant against, Dear Reader, so give yourself a fighting and well-informed chance on anything you or your doctor are concerned about.

I don’t mean to diminish what is likely a hefty co-pay, but I would certainly prefer knowing that a loved one nixed gift giving over the holidays in exchange for a health screening.

Promise you’ll at least think about it?


P.S. For those expecting a Dr Who reference, here ya go — if I do get breast cancer, send the Weeping Angels my way if it starts to win. Cuz I have no intention of being the 4th generation with that particular cause of death.

Everything came back negative and WOW that’s a long and gnarly post.  Ah, the wonder of me.


A Lesser Geek No Longer

I’ve never played D&D, despite having a brother, an ex and a husband all devout in their worship of the game.

I’ve never sat through a Dr Who episode before the glorious Christopher Eccleston took up the mantle of the sonic screwdriver.

I only remember a few scenes from ANY Star Trek, be it TV show or movie. (Tribbles! Nagging clone wives! Khhhaaaaaaaaan! Beautiful bald chick! Ear wigs! )

In spite of seeing every Star Wars movie countless times, I can’t name all the secondary characters, geek out on Death Star specs and have no clue who shot first.

I’ve only gotten heavily into gaming since being with Chooch. Other than when I was a kid, gaming was primarily something I did to entertain kids — my sister, then my kids and the kids of others. Now I am always seeking fun games to play, and Chooch and I recently revived our forgotten habit of playing quick start/easy to finish games (Bananagrams, Zombie Dice, Gloom, etc) while waiting for food at restaurants.

I always explain at conventions that I love Firefly/Serenity and Dr. Horrible, but cannot sit through Buffy, Angel or anything past the first few episodes of Doll House. So while I am a Joss Whedon fan, it’s only a small percentage of the characters he’s created that I care about. (Yes, I have tried. No you won’t change my mind, it’s not for me. I won’t insult you by listing why I dislike it, if you won’t insult me for not being a fan. Deal?)

I have passion, as anyone that saw me after the Big Damn Heroes panel or meeting Jewel Staite can attest. But I typically just take the easy way out and skip the “How Much Could You Know?” discussion since my knowledge usually peters out long before the questions do anyways. I’d just claim myself to be a Geek by Osmosis and bail, seeking fun rather than judgment.

Then I saw a post from creative genius and overall grantor of peace, J.R. Blackwell.  It’s not a kindly,  upbeat post. There is exquisitely descriptive profanity. There is rage. And there is hope for a gal like me.

I no longer just “<3 my geek.” I proclaim myself to be a Geek. And not just in the music realm, but in the realm I now frequent the most – True Geekdom – sci-fi conventions, board games, podcasting, audio editing, photo ops with stars that are obscure at best to most of the people not in this realm, movie memorabilia and a long-standing need to let my freak flag fly, no matter who it scares off. For goodness’ sake, we named our dog after a fictional space ship engineer.

THAT WE MET LAST MONTH!!!!! ZOMG!!!! <3 Jewel! <3 Kaylee!


Another Dragon*Con post is likely coming. But as usual, don’t expect too many facts. I go where the giggles are, and sometimes the things that cause them are best left in confidence between those present.