Comics, Thoughts on the Reading of

When I sit down, and evaluate where I stand on a lot of things comic, I have clearly defined limits and requirements for what I do and don’t like.

This is not so much because I don’t to try anything new. Quite the contrary, I need these guidelines in order to try new things. When I walk into a comic shop (which is rare as I am a poor student) I look for the familiar. I go for the new Invincible Iron Man trade, or to see if Daredevil has a new issue out that looks good. I go to see if the Hellboy on the shelf is the one I need to read next. I go to see if a used copy of Scott Pilgrim is available (because 12 bucks is a lot to pay for something you just “liked” and want to get for the symbolic value it has to you personally). Then, I look at what’s sitting next to them. 

But that’s besides the point here. What I was trying to say, was that all those pretty guidelines that stop me from just gazing around a comic shop in slack-jawed awe, looking like a complete idiot, as soon as I actually have a book in my hand, they go away. 

I’ll be looking for the next good X-men to try out, and say to myself “I don’t like Havok. I find him not to interesting, Scott is by far the better brother.” So, appropriately I look for something without Havok. I stumble upon a used copy of Chuck Austen’s run on Uncanny X-Men, think it has a quite knarly Wolverine cover, and pick it up for some lousy amount like $8. I read this book. This book features Havok. However, the story is just compelling enough that I think the next ones would be a good idea to get (please don’t judge me, I get now that it is kinda a terrible thing, these books by Austen).  

I read the sequels. Guess what? I love Havok. I love him almost as much as I love Scott. I do the same thing with Daredevil a few months later. I buy and re-watch the Fox movie, for competitive edge, and determine that Matt is not my most favorite character ever. I watch it again. And again. Marvel decides to publish a gorgeous new book for the man, and guess what? I love Daredevil.

In the words of a friend ” Is there anyone in the Marvel Universe you don’t like?”

“Why, yes, there is. Don’t be rediculous. I don’t like— Uh. Um. Er. Um… Well, I don’t like DC!”

“You liked 52.”

“52 is an anomaly. Are you determined to drive me into an existential crisis, here?”

Six months, Batman: The Killing Joke and a trade of Secret Six later, and maybe I don’t hate DC as much as I thought.

I fear that soon I will no longer be able to identify myself as Marvel, when asked that crucial question “Marvel or DC?” 

But…. that also matter less to me now. I love comics. I someday want to write them, but failing that I just want to work in the industry, so I can always be around them, and share the love with others. Comics are everything that is good in this world. And no, I’m not biased at all. 

Happy 2012! Please to Enjoy the Comet.

Be joyous, people. You were almost subjected to a piece of my original fiction as a blog post this time around...

To bring in the new year, or perhaps close out the old, I went to a party at a friend's place recently.

At this party, I read a fantastic comic, DC's Secret Six-- a trade from Gail Simone's run, to bring myself good comic karma for the new year (or it might have been a gift from my more open-minded comic friend, but hey, who's keeping track of my lack of flexibility or whatever).

I also made this thing with my friend called an “Affirmation Board.” It is the perfect expression and reaffirmation to our friendship. It is sealed to the board with glue, which I am afraid I rather waxed poetic about the metaphorical possibilities in this set-up. So sue me, I'm an English major.

Here enjoy a picture of it!

My contributions were the half-naked man and the sarcasm.

I'm still thinking up some resolutions. But I have a few ideas. What do you think of them?

1. Take up smoking and/or drinking, and therefore experience “accurate” college life.
2. Read less, do more hookah. I'll make more friends this way.
3. Bad mouth my government, but take on the mindset that I am fashionably apathetic and so have no support for my criticisms, or positive suggestions for alternatives when questioned.
4. Cease to recycle. The world's gone to hell any how.
5. Become even more hip, and adopt a cynical view on GPAs and how they don't mean anything at all.
6. Follow feminist trends as presented in modern American comics and dress promiscuously, possibly take up stripping to show that I am empowered and comfortable with my body and sexuality.

I can't even keep a straight face anymore.... My God.

Moving on. I don't actually have any resolutions I intend to keep.

And thus according to the prophecies of the great Nostradamus and also the Mayan calendar, we usher in the final year of civilization. Stockpile canned foods and TP, people, welcome to the End of Days.

Geek Cards in Hipstertown

I'm moving up in the world.

Recently I journeyed up to Portland to attend my first ever convention, OryCon33. Yup, you can now officially hand me my geek card, and I'll be on my way to assert my new status in the world, thank you, sir. It was altogether a thoroughly enjoyable, experience. I tagged along with a friend and his family, and mostly wondered around the hotel aimlessly, gawking as all the cool stuff, and thanking God I was there with friends.

I attended several interesting panels, about horror, magic and fantasy, schmoozed the Dark Horse booth for free stuff (who's a B.P.R.D. agent, with badge and everything? Oh, yeah) and admired all the nice costumes. I even played some boardgames.

Apart from a burgeoning obsession for working for Dark Horse someday, a healthy respect for the social skills my parents insisted I learn, lingering surprise at the popularity of Doctor Who, and admiration for the sheer awesome that are conventions, I seemed to have developed a new fascination with buttons. Pins. The things seedy politicians hand out to easily impressed campaign volunteers. Whatever you want to call them. I fear my friend was correct in attempting to dissuade me from buying them. I see them everywhere, now, and want them all.

Welp, lets just add this to my list of things I compulsively and obsessively collect:

• Quarter Machine knick-knacks
• Scarves
• Action figures
• Fun, or bright-colored socks
• Pens and Pencils

And now—

• Buttons

I don't even wear socks. On the bright side, though, I avoided all sex gods, and most of my collectables can be displayed on the shelf over my desk. This helps me feel less like my life is a colossal disappointment to any and all who had any realistic expectations of a successful life for me. I mean whenever I see that my mom's on facebook, or when I realize I haven't talked to my father in almost three months I just look up at my first-appearance Wolverine action figure and my Vulcan salute button and take comfort in the fact that anyone who  has already been woefully disillusioned with me won't actually be all that surprised when I announce that I've decided to take Klingon as my second language.

More helpful guides to college life to come.  

Pizza Rolls, Eyebrow, Shirking: A Sequence of Events Detailing the Questionable Balance of My Mental Faculty

Despite all the ways in which I am different from the majority of my peers (yes, I am unique,just  like everyoneelse) I am also incredibly normal, in that I suffer from a near constant sense of anxiety, usually sprouting from stress related to school, existential crises, social activity or moral dilemma. 

I find myself to have a tolerable level of anxiety, but sometimes, I spiral down from reasonably neurotic to completely and utterly and unstably deranged. These fits of uncertainty and depression usually last 1-2  weeks, ending when I one morning magically wake up feeling like I a capable adult person again.

It starts small. I become preoccupied with minor details; the wash of my jeans, how bright my desk light is, my bellybutton. My mind seems to revolve around these tiny details of my life until the higher functioning part of my brain seems to short circuit and I am left distracted. 

This leads to frustration at my lack of focus and resulting decrease in productivity. I become irritable, wrought with self-loathing over the fact that all the things I need to be doing aren't being done. I react over-emotionally to things that really don't require great levels of emotion. 

While walking to class: Why the hell is the sun out?! This is fucking Oregon in the fucking fall, there should not be sun here!

While eating some food: WHY IS THIS ONLY LUKEWARM????

Alone in my room: Why doesn't anyone like me? Oh, God.

While talking with classmates: Stop looking at my eyebrows. You're judging me, aren't you? STOP JUDGING MY UNIBROW! 

While doing homework: You know what math professor? The Quadratic formula is for snobby douches who think they're better than the rest of us. You're teaching us it, do you think you're better than us? You do, don't you?  Die in a fire.

My out of control emotions make me feel self-conscious and so to comfort myself I shun responsibility and instead do something that I'm “good” at, such as knitting a hat, or crafting a paper mache katana. I become so immersed in my project that I being to want to to be the absolute best thing I have ever made ever, thus causing me undue disappointment when it turns out that my hat or paper-starch weapon is not actually at all worth mention. In fact, my project is likely the worse thing I have ever made. I start to hate myself for even trying to cheer myself up. 

Trying to learn from my failure at house crafts, I simply give up. 

I lie in my bed, reading a book, refusing to acknowledge my huge list of mounting responsibilities.

Unfortunately this leads me to subconsciously angst about all the things that I need to be doing that I am very pointedly not doing, usually manifesting as an upsetting dream. Usually a variation of the typical spider infested room/zombie apocalypse/complete abandonment by my friends/stuck in high school situation.

 
Emotionally scarred from the nightmare, I arise insecure and distressed, and wonder about for 2-3 days in a state of inconsolable hopelessness. 

The end result of all this inner turmoil is me locking myself in a dark room, shutting out all forms of social contact, wrapped up in a blanket on a couch, watching cartoons and eating pizza rolls in my underwear. 

 

How to Make Friends with Your New Roommate: A Guide to College Life

1. Upon first meeting your new roommate make sure you assert your dominance by doing such things as squeezing as hard as you can when shaking hands, refusing to blink or look away when your gazes meet, and showing as much tooth as is physically possible when you smile. This alerts your new roommate to the fact that you are a strong individual, with the ability to protect your home, which will make your new roommate feel safe and free to trust you.

2. Immediately find two or three things about your new roommate that you find odd, or otherwise capable of being criticized, and inform your new roommate of them. He or she will appreciate your honesty and be pleased you took the time to be so observant.

3.Upon meeting your new roommates parents, assure your new roommate that you are completely sure it’s not genetic. This will tell your new roommate that you are sympathetic and kind, as well as open minded to their possible faults.

4.Play your music/x-box/t.v. loudly so that they have plenty of reason to talk to you without feeling awkward.

5. Make sure that your stuff frequently overflows into their space, to show that you are very open to sharing.

6. Invite yourself along to any outings your new roommate takes with friends. This will speed your bonding and show that you are willing to compete for her affections, while simultaneously allowing you to scope out which or her friends “need to go.”

7. Borrow his or her things without asking to communicate how much you feel at home around them.

8. If your new roommate is religiously or morally against swearing, make a driven effort to swear copiously around them to broaden their horizons and teach them to be tolerant.

9. To ease any worries he or she might have, be spontaneous and do things that will disarm them and put them at ease. Sit close to them on the couch, casually touch their faces or hands, or lounge about your room with no pants on.

Using these hints, there's no way you can go wrong. And remember, only people who are very close to each other can't live with one another. If your new roommate requests a move, this only means your efforts are paying off!

13 Things I Like: Photographs, ahoy!

This blog post is brought to you by the Healthy Dose of Bad Photographs Foundation. This charity is dedicated towards saturating your daily life on the web with poorly lit pictures taken by lazy and incompetent amateurs.

WARNING: Curious lack of sarcastic/dark humor follows.

My Favorite Things

1. My computer

What do I love? My computer. I love it!

2. My Sister

Left: Sister. Right: Me.

A wonderful addition to any family unit, providing support, sympathy and plenty of opportunities for kicking back, maxing and relaxing all cool.

3. Ilona Andrews

This husband-wife writing duo creates some pretty kick-ass urban fantasy. Humorous, exciting, sometimes romantic, their books are ripe with sword fights, shape shifters, blood magic, good versus evil, and multiple Princess Bride shout outs. My preference of for their Kate Daniels universe, but they write a bunch of other stuff, that is also quality.  Like books? Like urban fantasy? Give ‘em a try, I promise you won’t be disappointed.

4. My Scarves

I have an almost OCD impulse to collect scarves. Square ones, tasseled, silk, cotton, black, white, neutral, patterned, shiny, textured…

Last Scarf Count: 10

5. My Captain Jean-Luc Picard Action Figure

No, that’s not a light saber. Yes, that is the wrong uniform. No, it wasn’t a mistake. Yes, I know it looks like a friggin’ light saber. No, it’s not a special edition thing from his younger days. Yes, it’s from a canon episode. No, I’m not gonna cut the phaser blast off to make it look less like a light saber. Yes, it is indeed from the episode “Tapestry.” Congratulations. You are now versed in the discussion I have with every living person who is in my apartment and notices my Picard.

6. Terry Pratchett

Super funny, super talented English author who writes satirical fantasy. These are honestly the only books that have made me laugh hysterically mere sentences after they have me shedding tears and blubbering. Most of the time in public places.

7. Tamora Pierce

Tied with the other two authors on my list as my favorite. I started reading her in middle school, and have been known on occasion to fanatically cyber stalk her.

8. My Favorite Pair of Pants

My favorite pair of pants.

9. My Mother’s Rice Cooker

This is a gift from my aunts to my mother, and is perhaps the most utilized and useful appliance in our kitchen today. Second only to the microwave.

10. My Comic Books

I read comics. I love comics. I own comics. A lot of them. I re-read my comics. I buy more comics. I read those. And then I fangirl.

11. My Marvel Scene It?

I found this at a thrift store, and spend many an hour entertained my it. It is awesome, it is pleasingly difficult, and it is edifying.

12. My DVDs

I also enjoy Bottle Shock, V for Vendetta, Rio Bravo, and The Forbidden Kingdom. I do not enjoy many comedies.

13. My Toby

My cat, Toby, who I love whenever I don’t want to rip every strand of fluffy fur from his body.

Five Tips to Help You Get Good Grades: A Guide to College Life

Here are five tips from a successful second year college student to anyone having trouble getting those good grades in higher education. Follow these rules and your professors will love you!  And you are sure to get a great grade in every class!

Tip 1

Make sure you arrive late to class on a regular basis. This will show your professor that even though you obviously have better things to be doing, you still care enough about their class to get there no matter how much time you have to cut out of your daily moisturizing routine or reality TV line-up. They will appreciate your willingness to sacrifice your valuable personal time to come hear what they have to say.

Tip 2

Vigorously argue with the professor about whether or not they are correct on any and every topic covered in class. This will show that you care. That you have a burning desire to understand. However, you don’t want to question his or her expertise, so make sure that all your arguments are poorly founded and completely wrong. Your professor will appreciate the care you have for their ego. They will admire your flawless self-confidence that you so readily and enthusiastically question authority. They will be awed by your moxy. By doing this, you will be making sure that the professor will remember your name and face, so that when it comes to grading assignments the professor will remember that you were so passionate about learning that you took the time to argue for clarification on behalf of the rest of the class by allowing no statement to go unquestioned and your grade will reflect this.

Tip 3

Do not proof read papers or assignments. This shows the professor that you acknowledge that they are more savvy in their fields than you will ever be, and because of this you don’t have the right to feign expertise by turning in an obnoxious, pretentious, correctly formatted, pseudo-professional lie. They will be flattered by your obvious submission to his or her academic superiority, and take the extra time to correct your work, and edit it into a legible addition to the college world.

Tip 4

In compunction with Tip 1, alternately do not show up to class at all. This shows the professor that you have equal respect for the value of their personal time. So much respect that you are willing to pay tuition, then not show up to a class so that the professor has to spend less time teaching in class, and more time to devote to their hobbies like reading academic journals and grading papers.

Tip 5

Make sure you wait until the last minute to ask for clarification in the syllabus or on an assignment. There is no better way to show that you respect your professors valuable time, and his or her work obligations, than by waiting until the day before something is due to ask for help. This will show your professor that you respected them enough to spend the three weeks since this was assigned trying to muddle through it yourself, even though you never understood it. He or she will admire your independence and rush to get you everything you’ll need to get the assignment completed on time—they might even give you an extension!