Meljean Brook

Dear Meljean,

Really, you know better than to try pepping up your hair color at home. But if you must do it, please remember that ‘copper shimmer’ ends up looking more like ‘ruby fusion.’ Very dark ruby fusion*.

If you can do that one little thing, I think we will get along much better in the future.

Thank you,
Your Hair

*the picture didn’t come out. But it is something like this. Only a little more purplish.

ETA: Through the magic of Photoshop, I have a better example. And I have also given myself the thick, lustrous curls that I have always wanted.

…and am oh-so-tired. Whoa.

Recap of the last couple of days: nephew, born; daughter’s birthday party, finished (next year I might do something like Chuck E. Cheese’s, even though I HATE that place, because, man … I am not an organized arranger-party person. Luckily, the weather turned out nice (after two weeks of freaking cold, rainy weather, it finally warmed up in time for the party)); preschool graduation, survived; get-together with people from my alma mater, over; second visit to see nephew and Father’s Day bbq, done (with only two tears shed for gasoline prices). Upcoming: family reunion.

Real accomplishment: I have convinced my daughter that we don’t need to listen to Toddler Tunes anymore.

Questionable accomplishment: This is my (almost 5-year-old) daughter’s new favorite song.

She asks, “can we listen to the zombie song?” Or, the “little girl” song, which is here in a Dr. Who fan-vid.

Yeah. She’s so going to grow up emo. These were both songs that were on my Demon Night soundtrack (although “Fallen” has become more of a theme song for the series to me (others include McLachlan’s “Full of Grace” and The Verve’s “Bittersweet Symphony.”) The Cranberries probably won’t be on the soundtrack for the new, as-yet-untitled book (it’ll probably sound a lot more like Demon Angel’s than Demon Night’s) but the others will.

I think Toddler Tunes might have a happier message.  The question is: can my sanity take another few years of it?

I think not. So, emo-kid it is.

Anyway, the accomplishment that was not really done this weekend (actually, since I got news that my sister was in the hospital)? Writing.

And so back I go.

How in the world did you get so cute?

Posts on women. Strong women. Real women. And misconceptions, too.

Dave Sim vs Gail Simone (Gail Simone is the current Wonder Woman writer, but that’s only part of the reason why I love her. Responses like this are the other part.)

A Pajiba review of Lipstick Jungle

Should I add Karen’s post, too? (NSFPWDWTTAPRN*)

ETA: The Robin Morgan essay. No matter who you are supporting, this is an amazing piece of writing, and worth reading (and talking about, online or off).

*Not Safe For People Who Don’t Want To Think About Politics Right Now

My sister Echo, who is a lot like me, is trying to determine what to name her baby (she just found out it’s a boy.) She’s getting a lot of opinions from family members, but can’t decide — and is afraid of hurting someone’s feelings. So she said to me, “if you put a poll on your blog, at least it’ll be impartial.”

So here’s a poll! Your vote will name a baby, and keep my family from going to war. To keep it fair, I’m not saying which name I prefer.

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I think your little girl is cute; I really do. It’s undeniable that she has a great head on her shoulders. But we really need to talk about your parenting skills.

Dora’s like, what — six years old? Seven? When I was that age, I was traipsing around the woods near my house, sure. I usually had my older sisters with me, but I was pretty capable when I was all by my lonesome. So it’s not exactly that I’m objecting to Dora running around the jungle with her Map and Backpack. I think it’s great when kids are allowed a certain amount of freedom to explore and learn about their surroundings.

But Mami and Papi, I really wonder: do you know where she’s been exploring? As responsible parents, how can you possibly condone this? And if you are unaware … well, I think it pretty much amounts to gross neglect. A dumb little monkey is not a responsible nanny!

Do you know that a thief is lurking in the jungle around your home, and he seems to lie in wait for Dora, stalking and attempting to swipe something from her every single day? I’m impressed that Dora knows exactly how to deal with him — but sometimes, she’s not fast enough. And then the thief always throws whatever he’s stolen as far as he can, forcing her to recover it. Once, he threw a necklace to the top of a mountain. A mountain! My GOD will someone tell me why a little girl is climbing a mountain all by herself? And not just any mountain, but the Tallest Mountain! Do you know how many people have died on Everest? I don’t either, but I’m sure it’s a lot.

Then, she almost got caught in Goo! Icky Sticky Sand! She’s almost been flattened by rolling watermelons! Don’t you care that your child is throwing herself into these dangerous situations, Mami and Papi?

And that’s just when she stays in the jungle. I’ve seen her ride rafts down snake and crocodile-infested rivers. I think it’s fantastic that she always remembers to wear her life jacket — but how will a life jacket save her from a crocodile? She’s confronted dragons and witches. She’s been chased by bears. She and her friends — not an adult among them — have commandeered a pirate ship and taken it through the seven seas (I know there were seven, because I helped count them — and I still shudder to think what might have happened if Isa hadn’t turned that wheel.) She’s taken a sentient plane to Antarctica with her cousin Diego (I seriously need to sit down with his parents, too.)

I do think you’ve done a great job raising her. She’s kind and smart. She can dance dance dance.

But maybe you need to take a page from the Backyardigans. They go on all kinds of cool adventures … but it’s all in their imaginations. They never leave their (child-safe, I’m sure) backyard.

Just a concerned parent with a little girl almost Dora’s age,
Meljean

Because nothing says “merry” like fuzzy balls dangling beneath something long, red (and floppy).

Have a great one, everybody!
meljean

So we meet again, Automated Postal Center. I see you were intimidated by my mad MacGyver skills that time you tried to eat my debit card, and so you have dreamed up new and horrid trials for me to overcome, new ways to thwart me.

And you have almost succeeded.

At midnight last night, I felt supremely confident entering your domain. My debit-card dropping daughter was safe at home. There were no lines out the door, which was why I had waited until such an ungodly hour to go to the post office. I had only two packages to send, and both were domestic. Two ARCs, no larger than a trade-sized book.

I used you, APC, oh yes. I used you like the bitch you are. I got my postage, slapped it on.

And that is when you bitch-slapped me.

Because, apparently, I can no longer send any package after regular postal hours. The blue bin next to you–I usually take such pleasure opening its steel maw–was locked. A new sign was up that said everything over 13 oz had to be brought to the counter. No sending trade-sized books. No sending anything except envelopes–even those official ExpressMail boxes that the postal employees have so nicely put out for our use have nowhere to go.

So, you’ve got me, APC. I’ll have to brave the lines at the post office, after all.

…but it does beg the question: what use are you, then? You’re like an ATM without money. If I need a stamp for an envelope, I’ll just use the stamp vending machine. So, pfft on you.

Tip #1: Do not give your four-year-old child your debit card to hold while Mommy finishes up her business.

Not even if you’re there on a Saturday because she’s been sick all week, making it difficult to get to the post office, and she still kind of looks miserable and tired, and she says, “Can I hold that?” and she’s so unbearably cute that you think you can’t resist anything she wants.

You can resist. You must. (And it’s good practice for later, when she’s sixteen and has her eye on a special edition of a Preacher graphic novel.)

Tip #2: When, less than two seconds later, you see your debit card sliding into the tiny space between the scale and its frame, try not to shriek.

Shrieking makes the four-year-old jump back, yelling, “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” and then you have to calm her down and let her know it wasn’t her fault, because Mommy didn’t follow the advice of Tip #1.

Tip #3: Do not try to use your fingers to get it out. It doesn’t work. Nor does sticking the edge of an old receipt down the little slot, trying to give it a nudge, because the receipt folds.

Tip #4: Calmly finish your business, glad that you chose the “credit” option instead of the “debit” option, because with a credit card you can do multiple purchases at once, but with a debit you have to swipe after each purchase. Give your child the blank rectangular stickers off of each stamp, because she needs to be cheered up and is easily pleased.

Tip #5: Plot.

Not the good kind of plotting, the kind you (try) to do in books, that eventually leads to the bad guy getting killed and the whoopie being made. No, this is the “what’s the best way to break open that scale without being caught?” kind of plotting. The “what sob story can I tell the bank so that they rush a replacement to me at no charge?” kind of plotting.

Tip #6: Explain to the child that even though Mommy made a bad decision when she gave her the card, that does not mean that a four-year-old should try to stick something slender into the first equally slender slot she sees.

Tip #7: Think to yourself, WWMD?

What Would MacGyver Do?

Tip #8: Keep an eye out for other postal customers and/or postal employees. You do not want them to see what you are about to do, and they probably don’t have the same appreciation for MacGuyver.

Tip #9: Find a Change of Address card. They are made of cardstock and sturdy.

Tip #10: Steal the excuse-for-a-sticker back from your child. Stick to the edge of the Change of Address card, making certain that about 1cm of sticky part is hanging over the edge.

Tip #11: Look around again; prepare to run as fast as you can if a postal employee shouts, “WTF are you doing?” or if the machine breaks or if anything gets permanently stuck, gumming up the works.

Tip #12: Back away as fast as you can when someone comes in to check their postal box. Look innocent. This is where the miserable-looking-child is an asset.

Tip #13: After they’ve left, quickly insert the sticker/card into the thin slot. Nudge the card, just as you would set a hook.

Tip #14: Pull out card. Tell child that she’s so smart and such a good girl for having stickers!!

Tip #15: Buy milkshake with card (you have to make sure it still works, after all.)

Every once in a while, you come across a concept that is so freaking cool, that you bang your head and wonder why you didn’t think of it. I ran across one of those today when I read an interview at Occasional Superheroine, regarding a new Zuda.com webcomic by David Gallaher and Steve Ellis called High Moon.

Yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like, but here is a description from Ellis (the artist) on the High Moon blog:

It’s … a supernatural western/horror, involving six guns and werewolves … it starts out as a mystery and I think it will be a blast when we reveal the final twist.

I love Ellis’s art anyway, so of course I’m a shoo-in fan. They do one issue at a time (8 pages) and then if it gets enough votes it continues.

Other stuff: Kerry Allen has a fantastic review of Demon Moon over at her blog, but the fun news is that, apparently, Colin will be her HOTM on Nov 2. (Her blog’s a load of good times, anyway, so a visit (even without Colin) is well worth it.)

This is maybe a different kind of moon (and one I want to avoid), but to the gentleman at the Borders’ cafe, who sat in the chair next to me whilst I was writing, and proceeded to tear off the plastic wrapping on a Penthouse magazine: No. Just — no. You couldn’t wait until you got home? Until you got into your car? Or maybe on the bus, where everyone expects that kind of stuff? Gah. Do Not Want.