underwear trauma, pt II

I went to basketball camp for a week the summer before I started ninth grade. I was 5'9" or 5'10" which caused me to be grouped with high school rather than junior high girls. I only had one bra as my mother lost/misplaced the other one. This was very cruel as she would not buy me another bra. I was too incredibly shy to purchase one on my own at that age. I asked her repeatedly to get me some more as I only had one to wear. At camp, the high school jock girls threw me in the pool one day with my only bra. I had to play basketball later that day braless and was teased mercilessly. Technically, I did not need the bra for support because my size was equivalent to the highest grade on my report card. (I was a good student.) It was humiliating. This tradition of having only one or two bras continued through high school.

Finally, I started buying my own bras. I picked the most colorful and unique ones to make up for my earlier lacking. I had a shiny metallic silver one, but my very favorite was my Victoria Secret's purple mesh demi-cup bra. I had that style in several colors, but the purple was the best. Anyone who knew me in college saw the strap to that bra. Very few were fortunate enough to see me in only a bra let alone that one.

turn-off

There is nothing more unappealing than a man who does not take care of his child/children. I have no issues with men who choose not to father any children, but if you make one, take care of him/her. Quit your bitching, cool dad, it is not attractive.

the golden spoon

is a lifesaver. It is a yogurt shop with the fat-free softserve varieties. Mmmm. I cannot buy ice cream because I have no self-control (especially in this heat). Now, I drive to get my fix. Raspberry & old-fashioned vanilla with mini chocolate chips. What could be better?

jimmy gownley

is one of my most favorite people in the world. He draws Amelia Rules, a comic that is very cute and innocent in this provocative world. Jimmy & I went to college together. (His wife also attended the same college and I know her as well, but I knew Jimmy first). I remember hanging out with Jimmy while listening to the Beatles and watching him draw his other comic, Shades of Gray. Jimmy did not drink or act wild. He was (and is) a very sweet and mellow man. I always could be myself with him even when my life was dreadfully dramatic which was all of my college years. I saw him this past week at Comic Con. (It had been eleven years since I last saw him.) It was amazing that he is still the same man I remembered only in an older body. It makes me feel so good that he and his wife are happy with two children. I also got a glimpse of my younger self and a perspective that I could never have seen when I was in college. He reminded me that I did not like him when we first met because he yelled at me for talking during a video. I had forgotten. I showed him a pic of himself taken in my dorm room and my MU id card which had us laughing at our much younger selves. We both admitted to leaving the foil seal/lid on the Pringles intact to make others think the jar is not open. It was a trick he devised in college. There are good men out there. It is nice to be reminded.

being social

is exhausting and leaves no time to clean house. I am going to need a quiet day soon.

gris grimly

is one of my favorite artists. He is like Maurice Sendak with a wicked twist which is even better. I wish I made a lot of money because I would definitely own at least one of his original paintings. They are beautiful. I spent so much money at his booth at Comic Con and still do not have all of his books. Most of the books I own are signed by him. Adair & I met him by chance last year at Comic Con on our way out of the convention.

Gris Grimly is to Adair what AFI has been for me. When I became ill and had to go through cancer treatments, my son (Adair) stopped creating. He no longer drew his monster creatures nor did he write poetry. He told me he was too sad. Instead, he drew a comic with a main character called blob who was a blob (very much like Kirby of videogame fame). Blob was creative but very different. It made me sad that my son could not express himself in a way that was very much like breathing to him previously.

When we met Gris Grimly at Comic Con last year, he signed all of the books and figurine that I purchased. (We actually had one book that he had illustrated that I bought at Adair's school book fair.) Adair looked at all of Gris' art and peered through his books. He was a little starstruck that the illustrator was there. When we got home, Adair read and looked through all of the books. Then he started drawing all different types of creatures like he had when he was younger. Adair told me that Gris Grimly had inspired him. It made this mom's heart happy.

This year, when we met Gris Grimly, Adair gave him a note with a drawing of a gremlin creature that also expressed his admiration for GG's work. He also explained that GG inspired him to draw again. GG appeared impressed by the drawing and asked Adair if he drew it. Then, GG signed one of Adair's books with 'Keep drawing!' which made Adair's day. What a lovely and talented man!

You can check out his stuff here: http://www.madcreator.com/

comic con

is not really my thing. I went last year for the first time and was appalled by the behavior of many of the grown men I saw there. Yelling at children for distracting them at the videogames was bad enough (especially when there were over 10,000 people in the convention center), but I saw so many men, grown men, pushing little kids and disabled folk out of their way. In my angered and horrified state, I told my son that it would be much better to get the four day passes to deal with this behavior in smaller amounts of time. Of course, he remembered this which is why I ended up calling out sick this date to attend the first day of the convention. Fortunately, I was able to convince him that three days is ample time to see everything.

We also attended the preview night to get our badges. This year has been completely different. I got to see and spend time with a dear friend from college who authors and illustrates his own comics. I had not seen him since 1995. Adair & I also had the chance to meet many other sweet and interesting people. We are going back on Sunday to get a few presents for friends and maybe a thing or two for ourselves. I think I need to start saving money for next year as I spent the budget the first night! Damn Gris Grimly and his merchandise!

underwear trauma

One day when I was in junior high, my father started screaming about something to my mother. Then he accused me of having sex with my neighbor and good friend. He had proof in the form of a pair of tighty whiteys. HA! I could not believe it. His justification was that the colored stripes on the band were of different colors than the ones he owned. I could not believe the insanity. I thought he was joking. His rant went on for at least an hour until my mother found another pair of his underwear with the same stripes in his dresser. He never apologized. I seriously thought he was going to hurt me.

I guess that's why I prefer men who wear boxers or go commando.

intimacy & affection

are not the same as sex. One can have intimacy and affection during sex, but neither are necessary for sex to occur.

cool father

has replaced absent father. Pissed me off. Seriously. I wanted to break shit. I thought I was going to shoot lasers from my eyes, I was so enraged. Then I thought about Adair and remembered what was important.

better now

I am. (I sound like Yoda.)

Still feeling very emotional. I do not want history to repeat itself.

okay

I'm just not.

absent father

has returned to my life. Not my father, but my son's father. I guess myspace is good for something. He contacted me this past weekend and has now started an interaction with our son. I don't know what to feel. I have mixed emotions. It is difficult for me to respect a man who abandons his son...I may have to get over that. Hopefully, our son will.

july

is the worst month for me. My annual mammogram and bloodwork take place. Anxiety embeds itself into me. I develop a Tourette's-like release. The possibility that my cancer may have returned stalks my mind at random places throughout the day. I absolutely HATE getting bloodwork now as they can only take blood from my left arm which is all scarred from chemotherapy treatments and the labs required prior to the treatments. The scars are not noticeable, but interfere once a lab tech attempts to extract my blood. Even my veins react and collapse upon insertion of the needle. Tears expel as I hold my breath while scar tissue is stretched and flattened. Pictures taken. I feel violated. Time seems to stop as I wait the two weeks for the results. Nothing makes me feel better until I get the good news. This year I have to wait until August 4th.