Narbonic Love

Sometimes I'm astounded by the size of the internet.
The way a gif turns into meme, turns into a virus, corrupts the very inner workings of your mind, is amazing. But sometimes I'm surprised the other way around too. How could you not have heard of "Jacob leave your shirt on......NO!" or "Ain't nobody got time for that"? That latter delicious little video made enuf money for the lady in question to get a new place to live!

How can you still believe in unicorns and spaghetti monsters, the color plurple or that smeg isn't in the OED??? It totally deserves to be.
How can you listen to that kind of music and read those kind of things when you have the whole internet at your fingertips willing to give you some better taste?

Present company excluded, of course.

So love. For a comic no one I know has ever heard of.
I admit, I'm coming late to the party considering it originally ran 2000 to 2006, but I originally joined up somewhere in the middle. I missed out on the Narbonicons and the parties, etc. The author may have moved on to better, brighter, bigger things, but somehow I always come back to Narbonic.

I have a thing for scifi. First of all. Mad scientists are win. Intelligent and dominant women are grand. And a cute geek of a male guinea pig is adorable.
So there's those good beginnings. Then there's the fact that Babylon 5 heavily influenced (read monopolized) the author and you are almost guaranteed a well thought out story that involves great foreshadowing but also time travel!!!!! <3 indeed.="" p="">And don't forget the gerbils. And Hunter S. Thompson. And Shakespeare.

So give it a read. Realize that in the beginning, this was an artist finding her stride. ((Those are almost the best comics, don't you think? Where the love of the story drives the comic forward day by day until you suddenly realize, damn, that's a fine looking comic. Schlock Mercenary anyone?))  And if you like it, there's some other stuff out there by the damn, fine lady and there are books too. ^_^

Ridiculously, Stupid Amount

Well, this might sound silly, but I grew attached to a pen. A nice pen, a present.
I had refills purchased and waiting in the wings.
I used it at work and made sure no klepto customers (or fellow employees) took it. I held onto that pen and treasured it.
It wrote on all kinds of paper, and wrote beautifully, the ink it laid down was straight and of the perfect width. It was the kind of pen that convinced one to slow down just a little bit so that next word might look a little nicer.

You know how it is; you have a routine, a set of habits. You come home and dump all the change in the little cup you lifted from Chili's all those years ago. You walk in through the door and the keys go on that key hanger thingy you thought was sooooo cute. The jacket goes on the hook on the back of the door and oh, hello cat! Aren't you cute Izzy...who's my little Izzy? oh you purry purry thing you........

Suddenly my routine is broken and I don't know if I lost my pen at the restaurant tonite or somewhere in between snuggling the cat and getting into pjs.
Also my chapstick.
But I haven't lost my wallet or my phone.
So I guess......


And yet, this pen.



It made me tear up. I think something else must be bothering me becuz I've lost stuff before and never cried over it. Part of human nature, we're distractable and forgetful by some kind of nature (technology probably) and we're forever losing stuff all the time. Its how we can insure future archaeologists are going to make up drinking games about what the random stuff they discover was used for, way back when.......toilet seats as headgear and .... fuck it. Go read Motel of Mysteries by David Macaulay, he's much better at creating hilarious uses for common things. I stole the toilet seat as ceremonial head gear from him anyway.

The point is.

My car has a name and its a bit trashed up at the moment (THREE incidences are from being parked in a parking lot) my vacuum cleaner has a name and its getting way more use than normal, also smells like baby powder (don't ask) my dish washing machine has a name and will soon have R2D2 decals on the side of it (when I can find some good ones).

The point is I get attached to things.
And at this moment it hurts a ridiculously, stupid amount.
Its a pen.
But it was mine.