Sunday, March 29, 2009

Birthday Slayage

It started with a scream. It ended with a resurrection. It was my birthday!

My California Friends™ orchestrated the best haunted Buffy-style slayer quest of slightly terrifying adventure and delightful hysteria ever for my 28th. I had no idea, and I was caught wearing my dinner mustache. (You know, to be fancy.)

Wendy climbed up our balcony while I was sitting in the living room playing with modeling clay-- but Wendy always comes up our balcony, so I had no idea that anything paranormal was afoot. Then Emily screamed from her bedroom! I found her dead on the floor, with bite marks in her neck, and threatening messages scrawled in blood on her arms and chest. Vamps! Vengeance would be mine!

I was ill prepared for slayage. After much panicked rummaging for weapons (and my gold sneakers), I left with Wendy (my watcher) out into the darkness of Santa Monica, armed only with a tape recorder, my courage, and holy water in a mustard squeeze bottle. Note to potentials: squeeze bottles are a fabulously effective way of disseminating holy water.



I was compelled on a winding journey (of approximately one mile) where I was put up against the following foes, all of whom became my tenuous compatriots:

A Snuggie Phantom, by Bonnie. The lonely echo of a soul trapped between this world and the next, lurking between parked cars. A blanket with sleeves. Spooky!

A coke-addled Homeless Woman, who wouldn't stop quoting my own poetry at me, by Tiffany. This was hilarious, because I did not recognize Tiffany, and she is an amazingly committed actress. I assumed she was the real deal, and politely tried to brush her off, as I had no money on me.

Scary Old Woman stalking me in her car with the headlights off, by Broek. She offered me old lady candy, aka cough drops. It was gross. I almost got in the car with her, but Wendy warned me that it might be a bad idea.

My Doppelganger, by Dax. This was horrifying. I was put face to face with my own mortality, as Dave tumbled a hanged effigy from the boughs of a tree he was hidden in. It smacked me in the face. And then I saw that its face was MY FACE. My terrible wide-eyed, carnival-toothed face.



Hooligan in a Dapper Cap with Baseball Bat, by Jared. These people are so good at jumping out at me! Even after "Oh, it's you!" I regretted not having my wooden sword. Jared's bigger than me!



Uncouth Goat Demon, by Erin. Hidden behind a very large bush. She moved dreamily, and kept trying to touch me. It was another couple of blocks before I was sure of her mortal identity.



Hood in a Hoodie, by Renee, and Screaming Bloody Banshee, by Jenni. Again with the jumping out at me! Terrifying, but Jenni's wounds smelled of fruit roll-up. Perfectly adequate reason to have them come along.





Zigzagging Zombie, by Kat. As our little Halloween gang paraded down the hill towards beach, a dark figure shambled uphill at an alarming rate. She tried to eat my brain. It kind of tingled.

Then things got eerie. Gatekeeper Peter (you should know that mystical gatekeepers dress like assistant producers) stood on the seawall and beckoned forth. My dead roommate was laying inside a ring of Mexican Saint candles (Virgen de San Juan de Los Lagos y Virgen de Guadalupe ), guarded by a Veiled Dark Oracle, by Todd. Just behind them, were Jeff and Kristen, pilots of an ominous black kite.

Pictures really can't do this justice. It was just about the creepiest thing I've ever seen, and perfectly still but for the wind and the sound of the ocean. I had to resurrect Emily with a vampire cupcake (made by Wendy: chocolate, with cherry filling, vanilla icing, two puncture wounds seeping sweet, sweet, blood) and by blowing out all the candles.

Victorious, I laid down inside the circle of smoking candles, and everyone stood around me and sang Happy Birthday.





Holy water spent, masks removed, they walked me back home, peeling off one by one.

The most magical parts of the evening lay in the fact that they turned my neighborhood, where I walk every day, into a dark and whimsical place. Each block hid terrifying creatures and menacing characters, who once confronted, became my ragtag band of spooky and dangerous friends.

My apologies for squirting you all with holy water-- but you were evil. And evil must be vanquished.

Suck it, losArs

My blood, that is. Aaron keeps resisting my ever-growing passion for the dark whimsy that is vampires. But mayhaps this will help sway him to the Big Bad. ( Supplied by Comptron, from her many travels.)



Kids and grown-ups love it so!

Monday, March 16, 2009

Earthbound misfits

I cannot hear Pink Floyd without immediately thinking of my older brother, Sam. And then I can't help but remember nights and mornings around a dining room table playing Star Wars the RPG, barely keeping my crush on Johnny Sandal in hand because he was the best GM evAR.

For Immediate Release

Ellison sues Star Trek.

You should read this letter. It is awesome. We love this man.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Again and again and again and again

Before work at the studio this afternoon I stopped at the Yogurtland on La Brea to satisfy my newly persistent craving for peanutbutter/Cap'n Crunch/strawberries/chocolate/mochi. Yeah, my cravings are pretty specific.

It was really gorgeous out, so I sat at one of the little tables on the sidewalk and read some Ray Bradbury while I ate (with the pink spoon because I am a girl; that is the rule at Yogurtland). A man in a business suit with spiky hair sauntered past with his own bowl of froyo. "It's addictive, isn't it?" he commented conspiratorially.

Why yes, I nodded. Yes it is. Was it something in my eyes, something in my posture, that revealed I had been there not quite eighteen hours earlier?

I would like to replace the liquor store on my street corner with a Yogurtland. But I suppose it would have to sell toilet paper for those nights when we run out at 2am. And Diet Cokes, for Emily.

Happy Birthday

Mr. 51773

Monday, March 2, 2009

Anti-Social Socials

Music to draw to.

What a lovely idea. I've known for a while about various Drunk&Draws around town, but I would like to start the occasional anti-social social myself. Having CompTron over on Friday helped propel me through twenty some stories in the space of time that I'd normally go through eight or nine, tops.

I haven't been much for real socializing lately, and have a lot of pushing to do with my current comic project. But I work so much better when I can feed off the Real Live Energy of other people. This could be a perfect solution.


A link to one of the best comics of all time. (You can read it in the flesh in Mome, volume 14.)