Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Upcoming Appearance: Spencer Pride with DDBD

I wrote Brains for the Zombie Soul to be enjoyed by everyone, not just zombies.  My hope is to spread acceptance of not only the undead, but of everyone, no matter if their skin color is black, brown, white, or green, no matter if they pray, abstain, or practice voodoo, no matter if they are gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, pansexual, or a sexual, no matter if they are living or undead.

With this in mind, I am thrilled to present my book to a new audience.  The always-inclusive Different Drummer Belly Dancers have invited me to be a special guest at Spencer Pride Fest, June 1st, at the Owen County Courthouse in Spencer, Indiana.

There will be a whole day of free entertainment, including belly dancing of course!  Admission is free!  Parking is free!  Everyone is welcome, including the differently animated!

I'll be signing Brains for the Zombie Soul at the DDBD booth throughout the day.  Stop by and say hi!

Wednesday, May 01, 2013

An Update That Doesn't Say Anything

I've got some awesome things coming up that I really want to share, but can't just yet.  So here's what I can tell you:

There will be upcoming appearances!

I'll be at HorrorHound in Indianapolis, September 6th-8th at the Marriott Indianapolis East, sandwiched between the Liquid Braino Creations and Zombie Rights Campaign booths.

There's also an event at the beginning of June, and a big one at the end of August, that I'll post more about as soon as I have details.  They're exciting.

And speaking of exciting, the first draft of my new book is done!  The classic stories portion of Brains for the Zombie Soul was a big hit, so I kept going with more zombie fairy tales.  Right now the working title is Grim Undead Fairy Tales.  It's in the editing stage, and I'm planning to release it at HorrorHound Weekend.  It'll be a great gift to pick up for kids!

I also might have the zombie fairy tales in an alternate format (more information to come).

AND!  There's an awesome artist that's agreed to do cover art for me!

By time the new book comes out, I'll need to start thinking about my NaNoWriMo novel.  This year, I think I'll take a break from zombies, and possibly even horror entirely.  I've got some ideas for urban fantasy that are calling, although I'd bet there will be some touches of horror in there as well.

Write On, Dude!

Friday, April 05, 2013

Confessions

It had been a long day at work.  I stayed late, trying to keep ahead of deadlines.  No matter how late I stayed, there was nothing I could have done to prevent the manufacturer from sending a customer's order from shipping a day late.  Yet I still beat myself up over missing their deadline, and so did the customer.  All I wanted to do was go home, have a glass of wine, and relax.

On the short drive home, I looked forward to Brian's hug.  He'd listen to me rant about my day and hold me in his arms.  I could practically feel it.  I pulled into the parking lot, got the mail from the box.  Oh, a notice from the credit card company that the payment is late.  I had totally forgotten about it.  Shit.  I'd pay it online as soon as I got in the house.  And then drink the whole bottle of wine.

I opened the door, and before I even put the mail down, I saw him.  Brian was laying in the hallway, twitching.

Did I call 9-1-1?  No.  We'd passed that phase many years ago.  I knew there was nothing they could do.  This wasn't the first time this had happened.

Instead, I dropped everything and went to him.  I took off his glasses, we didn't need those getting all bent up again.  I maneuvered him into the middle of the hallway so his head wouldn't hit the wall.  He was limp at this point, but that didn't mean he wouldn't jerk again.  Sitting in the small space next to him, with one hand, I took his hand.  With the other, I brushed the hair away from his face.  Softly, sounding as reassuring as possible, I said, "It's okay, Baby.  I'm here.  You're safe at home.  It's me."  I squeezed his hand, which lay limp in mine, and said, "That's me.  I'm right here.  Can you squeeze my hand?"

As I repeated these things over and over again, doing my best to make him feel safe, I succumbed to the tears.  Not because I was afraid for him.  This wasn't too unusual of an occurrence, and this actually wasn't a bad episode in comparison.  Luckily, there was no one else around.  Really, I mean that as a good thing.  Because in the past, well meaning friends had gone to him, and in his state, he perceived them as a threat.  They've been punched and kicked.  But when I go to him, I speak softly, reassure him that he's safe, and if you noticed, try my damndest to make sure he knows it's me.  It's always worked, but I know that there is a danger in approaching him in these situations.  I take the risk to make sure he is okay and safe.

Still, that's not why I cried.  I wasn't afraid, not anymore.  I wasn't worried, at least any more than usual, about his health.  Like I said, this wasn't the first time.  I cried out of guilt and shame.  Because as he was laying there, helpless, on the floor, all I could think about is how I couldn't handle it right then.  That maybe he was faking it, and that didn't he know that it was inconveniencing me?  I wondered if there would be a day I couldn't take this any more.  I felt sorry for myself, that when I needed someone to support me and be the strong one, I had to step up and take on that role once again.

Then, with a gasp for breath, Brian suddenly grabbed my hand.  His eyes were now open and wide.  He can't see anything at this point, or respond, but he's closer to coming back to me.  He passed out again for a minute.  Sometimes, it starts all over again, but this time I got lucky.  My hand was no longer squished in his, nor let go entirely, but now was held in gratitude.  He opened his eyes, found me, saw the tears, and said, "I'm sorry."

I said, "Are you okay, Babe?"  I didn't forgive him, because I had nothing to hold against him.  He should've never apologized in the first place for something he can't control.  And I shouldn't give him any reason to need to apologize.

For the rest of the evening, he was tired.  I skipped the wine, just in case I needed to be alert, and made us supper.  After we ate, he fell asleep on the couch.

When I think these things when caring for him, another part of me knows how selfish and wrong these thoughts are.  I feel guilty even now for ever thinking them.  I know it's caregiver's burnout, but that just makes the guilt worse.  It reminds me of all the times I work late, or go out with friends, when I'm not home with him.  How can I call myself a caregiver?  I'm merely his wife, and sometimes I wonder if I'm a good one at that.

I wish I could say that I'll never feel that selfish again, but I know I will.  Just last week, Brian awoke in the middle of the night in the midst of a seizure/nightmare combination.  It's yet another thing we've been through before.  I don't know if the oncoming seizure gives him nightmares, or if the nightmares provoke the seizure.  I did the usual, take his hand and stroke his hair.  I said my reassurances, and added, "Just sleep."  I described a serene scene on the beach to help replace whatever imagery in his head with good thoughts.  And I kept repeating, "Just sleep."  I tried to say it to calm him down, but there's a bit of pleading in my voice too.  The selfishness hits again, for I am tired, and have to work in the morning, and my efforts to try to calm him down are routine.

Some days it's not set in stone like this.  Sometimes, the seizures are easier, like a form of release.  Brian is medicated for it now, which reduces the number of seizures he has greatly.  They used to average out to about once a month, where he might have a few within the same week, but then go a couple months before the next.  Now it's down to 3-4 times a year.  But just because the most obvious thing, the seizures, aren't as prevalent, that doesn't give us the all clear.

I can now tell when we're going to have a bad day.  Brian won't act like himself.  He'll be irrational, and quick to anger.  His walk will be unsteady, and he'll easily lose patience.  His motions will randomly get jerky.  This used to end with a seizure, and then the next day he'd be back to normal.  Now, when the seizures are mostly gone, sometimes this can last for days.  It's harder in a way.  I don't always recognize what's happening and just think he's being unreasonable.  I'm getting better at realizing it now though.  His doctor has told him to take an extra pill when he feels he needs it, but so far, at that point it doesn't seem to do anything.  Perhaps once we get to that point, it's too late.

I used to get angry when he wouldn't go out to events and such with me.  He'd encourage me to go anyway, and I'd resist.  I'd think he just didn't want to be with me.  That was years ago.  I've come to understand why he doesn't feel up to going out now, and I don't let that keep me home.  He tells me to go out, not to let him hold me back.  People ask me where he's at, why he doesn't come out, and I try to briefly explain.  It's not satisfactory, but most people get the hint and don't ask more.

He tells me it's all right, but sometimes I feel guilty that I'm away from home as much as I am.  Sometimes I turn friends down for get togethers.  It's not that I don't want to see them, but that I feel like I need to spend that time with Brian.  It means having to choose between my husband and my friends, and although neither him nor my friends want me to have to make that choice.  The fact that I have such a great husband and great friends that understand helps tons.  Sometimes I have obligations that I can't choose to stay home from, and Brian looks at me and says, "You have to go.  Go."

I write this for the other people out there who might go through similar things.  The other caretakers and spouses who have the similar selfish thoughts.  Sometimes, I'm surrounded by my loving husband and caring friends, and I still feel alone.  Maybe someone else out there feels that too, and can find solace in someone else who understands.

To our friends: Know that Brian has his bad days.  He doesn't mean to be mean or uncaring.  Please forgive him for any time that he may had lost his patience or acted out of character.  And know that I'm not immune to all of this.  When Brian has bad days, so do I.  I don't mean to neglect you, I don't mean to be curt.  Sometimes I want hugs, and sometimes I don't, and sometimes I don't even know what I want. Most of the time, I don't want to acknowledge it; I just want to go on with things as "normal." Most of all, thank you all for your patience.

Wednesday, March 06, 2013

Name Brand vs. Generic: Clear Care

Upon recommendations from friends and family, I switched my contact solution from a basic no rub overnight soak to Clear Care.  Clear Care has hydrogen peroxide in it, along with a special case that neutralizes the H2O2, so the lenses come out as clean as they can get.

I have seasonal allergies, and believe it or not, pollen sticks to contact lenses.  My eyes are much happier in the spring and fall with super clean contact lenses.

But man, is this stuff expensive!  Not only is it a couple dollars more than standard solution, but to fill the special container, I use more of it.  So when I saw the CVS version that saved me enough money to get a tall latte, I hoped it would work just as well.  I bought it several times, so I've used the CVS version just as much as the actual Clear Care.  Do I get to keep my latte money?


Ciba Vision Clear Care Cleaning & Disinfecting Solution

vs.

CVS No Rub Disinfecting Lens Care Solution

There's two big differences between the two.  The first is the case.  I think it's funny that they say they give you the case for free, because the case is required, or else the solution won't neutralize and you'll be sticking hydrogen peroxide in your eye.

The CVS case is definitely lower in quality.  The plastic isn't as thick as Clear Care's case.

The neutralizing disc is at the bottom of the vial of the CVS version, but on the insert that the contacts go in on the Clear Care version.  I'm not sure if that makes any difference.  I didn't really have a preference either way.

The top of the Clear Care case has a rectangular protrusion on top, probably to aid in unscrewing the lid.  The top of the CVS case is flat, and therefore easier to set down when needed.

The basket on the Clear Care case where the contacts go is held shut by the hinge that opens and closes it.  That makes it easier to open and get the contacts in and out.  The basket on the CVS case snaps in place at the closure, making it harder to secure.  It also makes it seem like there could be more damage to lenses if they are not placed correctly, although that's probably all in my head.

But, can I live with a cheaper case if the solution works just as well?  I thought so, which is why I continued to buy the CVS disinfecting solution.

The thing is, the solution does not work as well.  There were times that it felt like the hydrogen peroxide wasn't completely neutralized in the morning, so my eyes would burn before I put them in.  I ended up using just as much standard saline solution to rinse the contacts off before I put them in than I would have used before.

So, do I get my lattes?

The winner:

Ciba Vision Clear Care Cleaning & Disinfecting Solution
No.  In fact, it turns out I wasn't getting my lattes before.  I continued to buy saline solution to rinse off the contacts after soaking them in the CVS brand because it never felt completely neutralized.  I'm willing to sacrifice a cup of coffee here and there in exchange for non-burn-y-ness.

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Name Brand vs. Generic: Spinbrush

This blog is whatever I want it to be, so hey, let's put some product reviews up here too!

I'm a cheapskate, and I have no problems buying generic versions of products.  Most of the time, they are just as good as the name brand products they were modeled after.  But sometimes, they leave a lot to be desired.  So every once in a while, I'll post a comparison, just in case there's anyone out there wondering if it's worth the extra pennies to get the name brand.

Spinbrush Proclean Battery Powered Toothbrush


vs.

CVS Professional Clean Power Toothbrush



I had the Spinbrush first and was happy with it.  But when I saw the refills for the CVS version was cheaper, I bought the generic one instead.

The Spinbrush has a switch to turn it on, the CVS toothbrush has a button.  The button is easier to push than the switch is to switch.

I'm on my second Spinbrush and the CVS toothbrush broke this morning.  The Spinbrush broke where the replacement heads attach, it separated from the handle body.  The CVS toothbrush would no longer power on when the button was pressed.

The batteries are easier to change in the Spinbrush.

Which is good, because the batteries don't last as long in the Spinbrush.

Which is probably because the Spinbrush is noticeably more powerful.  Even with a used head, when I had to switch back to the Spinbrush when the CVS toothbrush broke this morning, my teeth feel so much cleaner.

The winner:

Spinbrush Proclean Battery Powered Toothbrush


Spend the extra money on the Spinbrush.  And with the extra batteries, it will be more expensive.  But for a powered toothbrush, I want one that actually feels like it's helping me get my teeth cleaner.  I'm not sure the CVS one did any better than a plain ol' cheap toothbrush.

Wednesday, February 06, 2013

Why is January so dangerous?

January sat at a small round table in the darkest corner of the pub. He'd been there for 10 minutes, but the waitress hadn't noticed him.

Oh, she had noticed him all right. She was purposely avoiding him. Frankly, he scared her. The lines around his mouth formed a permanent scowl. The folds of his eyes gave him a permanent squint. While his gray and white hair should have been endearing, it just topped off his menacing look.

He waved at her to get her attention. She couldn't ignore him any more. Wordlessly, she stood in front of his table with her pen on her pad.

"Whiskey please. On the rocks." His voice was gravelly, like a plow truck scraping snow off the pavement.

The waitress turned and walked towards the bar.

A petite woman entered the pub, letting cold air in through the door. After hanging her fluffy, fur-lined coat on the rack, she pulled a seat up at the bar.

"What can I get you?" asked the bartender.

With a smile, she said, "Champagne," and giggled.

As the bartender retrieved her order, she surveyed the occupants of the establishment. A group of college-aged girls tittered to themselves at two tables pushed together in the middle of the room, occasionally getting loud with celebrations of a birthday. A pair of couples laughed and joked at a table by the bar. At a small table in the opposite corner, a man and woman were obviously on a romantic date. And the unsavory looking man in the leather jacket with the sleeves torn off, not cut, but torn, sat by himself in the dark.

The petite woman brushed her long, fair, curly hair over her shoulder, caught January's attention, smiled and waved. He responded by displaying a rude gesture. Giggling again, she spun her stool back around to face the bar.

"Anything else," the bartender asked, placing the tall thin glass in front of her.

"Yes, please," she said with a smile. "Send that man in the corner a glass of champagne as well. It's his favorite."

The bartender poured another glass and gave it to the waitress. "Take this to the man in the corner."

"His name is January," added the woman.

The waitress leaned over to the bartender and asked, "Do I have to?"

He gave her a look, and she shuffled over to the table in the dark with the glass in her hand.

"Thank you," he said. She said nothing and walked away.

With yet another giggle, the woman emptied her glass. "Can I get a whole bottle and a bunch of glasses?"

Shrugging, the bartender put a bottle on a tray of glasses. "Thanks sweetie," she said, and picked up the tray. The birthday party didn't see her coming until she spoke up saying, "Let me treat you to some champagne!"

The group gave their thanks as she poured the glasses and passed them around. "Happy birthday," she made a point of saying to the birthday girl, "and may the rest of your life be filled with love."

Once they all had glasses in their hands, she moved on to the table of four. "No thanks, we're okay," said one man as she approached.

"Please, I insist!" She placed four full glasses on the table and walked away. When she peaked over her shoulder, she saw them all sipping from their glasses.

The couple in the corner were so engrossed in their intimate conversation that she startled them when she said in a soft voice, "It looks like you could use some champagne." She poured three glasses, picked one up, and said, "To love." They clinked and sipped.

When the woman returned to her seat at the bar, the bartender and waitress were chatting amongst themselves. She put a glass in front of each of them and said in a fake whisper, "I won't tell." They thanked her, touched their glasses together, and drank.

From the shadows, January emerged with his empty glass. He slammed it on the bar with a wad of cash and stomped out of the pub. The woman giggled her annoying giggle and watched the large man walk out the door.

The bar seemed to gradually be getting quieter.

"So, I haven't seen you in here before," the bartender said.

One by one, the foreheads of the birthday partiers hit the table.

"I'm not from around here," she replied.

With their cheeks on the table, the two couples stared out with unblinking, glazed over eyes.

"Well, welcome! What's your name?"

The lovebirds in the corner collapsed in each other's arms. Their hearts burst at the exact same moment. The waitress didn't make it over to them before she abruptly fell to the floor.

"I'm February," she said as the bartender's heart ceased to beat and he disappeared behind the bar.



What's this all about?  

Neil Gaiman is writing A Calendar of Tales based on 12 questions (one for each month) that he posted on Twitter.  Here's my reply to the January question:




On Tumblr, I asked Neil Gaiman the following question, and got the following response:

I love the Calendar of Tales Twitter project idea. Since I know with all the responses you received that mine are unlikely to be chosen (quite like winning the lottery, and there are some really good ones in there), I think I'll write my own stories and post them to my blog. I'm assuming I won't be stepping on any toes if I do, will I?
I would LOVE IT if you do that.
I’m going to write my 12 stories, but I would be thrilled and delighted if people made their own stories. That’s sort of the whole point of this thing, from my perspective. It demystifies the writing process and makes art a little bit more something everyone is doing.

Friday, January 25, 2013

Our Wall-O-Art

We are cheap art collectors.  We love artwork, but we don't have the money to spend on it like we would like, so we buy a lot of prints.  Recently, we decided to throw good taste out the window and just fill our walls with pretty pictures.

Inspired by Jen from Epbot's Art Roundup post, I'd like to highlight some of our collection.

In the top left corner is an original drawing that my uncle David Hubbard did for me when I was in 4th grade.  I wanted it for show and tell, and I asked that he draw a Brontosaurus (hey, that's what it was called at the time), a Tyrannosaurus Rex, and a Triceratops, because I thought that most people in my class would like one of the three.

Next to that is a print by Judge Hydrogen that Brian picked up from a HorrorHound Weekend.

Below that, the square frame with the circle drawing is the newest Liquid Braino Creation, an original of course.

In the bottom left hand corner is a local Dizzy Art print with a turtle, dolphin, seal, and whale.

Back up to the top in the middle, the turtle is a pencil drawing print by Kelly F., a student at the Ringling College of Art and Design in Sarasota, Florida.  We like to visit the Madeby Gallery there when we're visiting my grandparents.

The tiger in the upper right corner is a painting by the late Ellsworth F. Hartz, Jr., Brian's dad.

The seascape with the moon in the center is what the whole wall has been organized around.  It was painted especially for me, especially for that wall, back in 2003, the first year we were in this house.  It's by my friend, Cathy Mark, who's never realized how good she really is.  (She does some amazing quilt art too.)

The larger painting on the bottom, second to the left, is Metamorphophobia, one of the many Lydia Burris prints we have.  We met Lydia at HorrorHound Weekend, and both of us love her imagery, so we've ended up with tons of prints since Brian and I always want something different.

Speaking of, to the right of that is another Lydia Burris print, Undead Greenman.

Underneath that is a pen and ink print by Todd Kennedy, another artist that we found at HorrorHound Weekend.

The big one in the middle on the right is the largest Liquid Braino Creation so far.

The square one underneath that is one of the prints that came with our Amanda Palmer Kickstarter album.

The small picture underneath that is one that Brian got from Malboro by W.H. Ford for his birthday many years ago.

And finally, in the lower right hand corner is a Frank Franzetta poster.

This is only one spot in our house.  I'll post again with more of the artwork that we've got scattered throughout the house.