Killian's Blog/Website/Whatever

I read the new Wonder Woman! And I liked it . Greek myth references were poppin' off right and left, Wonder Woman is a badass, and the story is mysterious, and interesting, and smart . Cliff Chiang's art is super awesome--which is important because art can seriously make or break a well-written comic--and I've been in love with Azzarello for, like, ever.  Spoilers? (highlight if you want to read it): Guessing Mr. Badguy from the beginning is Apollo, based on the "sun/son" puns and the fact that he made those three girls into oracles. Granted, Zeus has a lot of kids to choose from, but my guess is Apollo. Also, how badass was Chiang's rendition of Hermes? And making Hera a mysterious woman in a peacock cloak?? I AM SO INTO IT. (end of possible spoilers) DC has kind of screwed the pooch on a lot of their reboot* but, fortunately, I can make fun of them from afar because I have never been a big DC reader. Granted, I'm not a huge Marvel reader, eit...

This is a two-fold post. First, this is what I did in Portland every morning at 6:30/7am, instead of sleeping:  In case you are unfamiliar with the creatures in that second panel: they're guinea pigs. Seven of them. And that stuff that looks like hay? It's hay. A lot of it. So much hay was there, hardly a moment passed when I didn't have at least three hay-twigs stuck in my hair/on my pants/in my pockets/all of the above. I smelled vaguely of petting zoo. 'Twas very charming, I'm sure. Needless to say, I don't know how my parents do it. Second, I'm going to ask you to indulge me while I consider the idea of "home". Growing up, Portland was my practical home, and Seattle was my Home of the Future.  Portland was comfortable and familiar. Family, friends, school, work, all provided the ground upon which my routines were solidly built. Of course, it was under-appreciated. Meanwhile, each visit to Seattle, from childhood through last year, see...

This week is so much easier than the last. Watson's a little bit rowdier (the weather is cooler, so he expects us to walk him more than once a day or something. So demanding. Sheesh.) but the house is fairly quiet with Littlest Brother at my grandparents' and Middle Brother down for the count with a nasty cold*. PLUS, miracle of miracles, I've actually been sleeping. Now for the delicious stuff! I bought more books yesterday. Hooray!...My wallet is so pleased.  They're mighty fine ones, too: ones from My Very Exclusive List. Note: I've only had the chance to read the first one (I bought them yesterday, so, you know, be patient), and, therefore, the latter two can't yet come with my full recommendation. You ready? There's gonna be some clicky links, so prep the ol' digitus secundus . First, The Tiny Wife by Andrew Kaufman: The book is, appropriately, tiny. I'm going to use my supreme authority on the matter** to suggest that it's...

I've been home for a few days now. It's been nutsybonkers. Being a parent and simultaneously trying to maintain a household has to be the most taxing occupation--particularly when your family is loud and rambunctious. I feel for my parents. This is not the first time I have taken on mom-and-dad duties for the 'rents, but I've never tried it any longer than five days or so. We're currently four days deep, with eleven to go. If Daniel wasn't here to help me, I would be toast. There are a few factors at play here that make this bout of housekeeping a bit...let's go with super . First, I haven't slept through the night in weeks. A combination of heat and anxiety (the latter of which increases exponentially with the increasing sleep debt, creating a wonderful cycle of not-sleeping-ever) foiled my every attempt to catch up with my pal Morpheus. And then, when I did eventually fall asleep, I had terrifying dreams. I'd scream myself awake, and the not-sle...

You guys don't have to tell me I'm a wimp--I already know. But, seriously, when the outdoor temp gets above, say 75, it makes me want to cry. Unless I'm at the beach. Then I'm ok with it.  My dad told me-- as if it was no big thing --that the weather at home (where Daniel and I are going this week) will be reaching 99-100 degrees Fahrenheit. I've been crying myself to sleep at night over 81 degrees. Thank god my parents have a basement, I guess. Barf. Seriously, make fun of me all you want, but if you got sunburns and heat rashes at the mere suggestion of sunlight, you'd be a sad panda, too. If I had my own private lake, shaded by trees, I'd probably welcome this weather. Last I checked, all I have is a bathtub with lots of obstinate calcium deposits--which I do plan on visiting it this afternoon. Perhaps filled with ice cubes. This "holiday weekend" has been pretty nice, actually. Went down to the houseboat yesterday and had an i...