Julia, Thy Name Is Crazy

I am a Crazy-Person. No. You have no idea. I really mean it this time. I am actually INSANE.

So, I picked up a guy at the comic book shop today. My mother asked what this meant when I told her. "You took him back to your place?" she asked.

Let me spread it out for you in a nutshell, so there's no confusion. I did NOT take him back to my place. I got caught up in a conversation in the comic book shop, with this guy, some other customers, and the guy who works there. As I was leaving, the guy (he'll have a name in a moment, don't worry) was also leaving.

"Sorry you got caught up in that," he said.

"Oh it's no problem. I don't mind," I said sincerely. I glanced over at him and saw that he was carrying a small wisp of a comic book bag. I should perhaps mention that it was a big week, and I left with ten comic books. Don't judge.

"Oh my gosh! You bought nothing! Did you SEE my stack?" I blurted out, before I could stop. He laughed and said something about being very picky about what he reads. I told him that I had only been reading comic books for a little over a year, so I was reading absolutely everything just to get a handle on exactly what it is I like. This has seemed to me to be the best way to choose what I read. I try a little of this, a little of that; I stick with the things I like, and drop the ones I don't. Unfortunately, more things have stuck than dropped...

Anyway.

We were nearing the end of the block and he paused to hold out his hand.

"I'm Steve."

"Julia."

We shook.

"Well, I'm going this way," I said, starting to turn.

"Actually, so am I," he replied. You're a clever one, aren't you? I thought. Then: Oh smeg, now if I don't keep talking we'll have that awkward walking-in-the-same-direction-but-not-actually-with-each-other thing. Out of desperation, I kept talking.

We walked and talked this way for several blocks. I just kept asking question after question to keep from awkward silence. Every time I would turn to go a different direction he would follow.

"I'm on break right now, so I'm actually just meandering. Do you mind? If you do, I'll go my own way," he said at one such turn.

"I don't mind. You can meander beside me all you like," I replied. Did I say that?

It turns out he's a comic book artist. An actual, real-live, professional artist. He drew a graphic novel that is being published by RandomHouse.

This is what I mean about the universe conspiring to put me on a path. I mean, what are the odds??

OK, true: he was in a comic book shop. But still.

Now the trouble comes with me messing up what the universe has handed me. A lot of times I think I get set on a path and I immediately take a U-turn because I get scared.

I mentioned that I was working on writing a comic book. But was too embarrassed to share any of it with him (see above RE: U-turn). What if he thinks it's cliche? What if it IS cliche?

I asked what his art was like, and he asked if I'd like to see some sometime.

"Sure."

There was awkward silence. It was the sort of stunned silence of a guy who has just asked a girl something that he expected her to say a polite 'no' to, but got a 'sure' instead.

"Uh...when?" he asked, once he'd remembered how to speak.

I, being a crazy person, immediately panicked, and didn't want to set a date. It felt too locked in, I could already feel the choke-hold of commitment around my neck.

"Oh, I don't know...when are you free?" I asked.

He started listing off a bunch of days, then said something about his family planning a huge event, blah blah blah.

"Tell you what, why don't you call me when you're free," I cut him off. He floundered for a moment, looking rather like a fish out of water.

"I'll need something from you for that to happen," he once again regained the power of speech.

I gave him my number.

And now I am FREAKING OUT!!!!!

What have I gotten myself into? I am now obligated, out of common courtesy, to answer the phone when he calls! If I don't, I'll have to start going into Manhattan to get my comic books, because I sure as heck couldn't show my face at my regular haunt anymore.

What is wrong with me? Why is this making me feel so anxious?

Here's the thing: I enjoyed talking with Steve. He seems like a genuinely nice guy who has a lot of similar interests to me. But I'm not sure I felt that spark. You know the one. However, I've been thinking that I need to increase my circle of friends a little, and there's NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING FRIENDS WITH STEVE. I had to put that in capital letters so I would read it and believe it. Now, there was some flirting, and I have no doubt that he'd like to be more than friends, but he also wasn't completely fawning all over me. We were just talking, getting to know each other, so I don't think he'll be crushed if when he calls I tell him I really just want to hang out and not date. That's allowed, right?

Oh my gosh, this makes me so nervous.

I am FREAKING OUT!

Oh, dear. I have more issues than a lifetime comic book collector. Ba-doom CHING!

OK, I'm breathing. I feel calm. Collected. Not freaked out. The real freak out will come when he calls.

'Till then, I'm going to try not to think about it.

The Ballad of Bruce Wayne

At last! I have a new video to show you! I slaved over it, so I expect praise that's high in quantity and quality. Just kidding.

Anyway, it was sort of inspired by what is happening in the Batman comics right now, which is a storyline called Batman RIP. It hasn't finished yet, so I don't know if Batman is going to die, but right now he's gone completely round the twist (as my sister would say), and is running around Gotham in a purple suit claiming that he is the Batman of Zur-En-Arrh! Whatever that means. And he's having conversations with dead people, and just generally acting like a loon. Something was leaked at the San Diego Comic-Con that the next storyline in Batman was going to be called Battle for the Cowl, so basically someone OTHER than Bruce Wayne is going to be Batman. Then, after that, (something that was announced, not leaked) will be an arc written by Neil Gaiman, one of the greatest science fiction/horror/fantasy writers of all time, called Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader. It's an exciting time to be a Batman fan.

Now, do I really believe they're going to replace Bruce Wayne? No. Not really. There was a long run back in 1993 where Batman's back was broken, he chose someone to take up the mantle for a while. Of course, the guy he chose went insane and Bruce eventually had to fight to regain the title of Batman, but, hey, it's a tough job, and not everyone is mentally equipped. So there was basically an entire year where Bruce Wayne was not Batman. But a permanent change? I don't think so. The fans would revolt. Anyway, I only wanted to say a little something about it as a preface to the video, but you know me and comics: once I get started, it's hard to shut me up.

The song I used is called the Ballad of Barry Allen by Jim's Big Ego. For those of you who don't know, Barry Allen was/is the Flash. (He died, but recently came back to life. It's all very confusing, so I won't go into it.) I know, I know, it's rather perverse of me to make a video about Batman to a song about the Flash, but the more I listened to the lyrics, the more I thought it fit Bruce more than Barry.

So, without further ado, I give you The Ballad of Bruce Wayne:

Cinnamon Rolls and Donuts

Well, I wrote a whole entry that I just deleted. Trust me, you didn't want to read it anyway. It was just some whiny talk about feelings ooooooh feelings.

Basically, I was feeling down, again; and now I'm over it, again.

And now I have nothing to say.


Awkward.


So, you know when you're depressed, you can do some stupid things? Last Saturday night, I bought a box of cinnamon rolls. I had two this morning, and I'm thinking I might cap the day off with a third. I heat them in the microwave for 25 seconds. Ohmygosh. Delicious.

I almost went to Penn Station for Krispy Kreme donuts, but being depressed also makes you lazy, so I didn't.

I have to say, I am really sick of this funk I'm in. I think I need to have a big cry. Maybe I'll re-read Deathly Hallows, that would probably do it. Or I could watch Immortal Beloved, that always makes me sob. Have you seen that move? Depressing. But in a cathartic way.

Or I could clean my room. I always think better with a clean room, and there's something soothing about the act of cleaning it.

OK, another sucky entry. Sorry guys, you deserve better.

Jules

Olympic Fever

The time I usually spend blogging has recently been eaten and chewed upon by the Olympics. Don't you just love them?! I do. I have no idea from where this obsession came. I don't even particularly like sports. In fact, there aren't any other sports that I'll just sit down and watch. And yet.

That music starts to play...Buuum Buuuum bu-dum-bum-bum-bum Bum-bum Bu-dum Bum-bum-bum Bu-da-dum-bum-buuum...and my heart swells. And then there are the stories. Oh my gosh the stories!

"We drove our daughter 5000 miles every morning at the crack of dawn, just so she could practice at the best gym."

I feel for these people, no matter what country they're representing. My heart broke for Diego Hypolito of Brazil when he fell on his final tumbling pass for the floor exercise. He was the best chance for Brazil to win it's first medal in gymnastics and he was crushed. From halfway around the world, I gave him a mental hug and a pat on the back.

And then there's Michael Phelps, who just kept winning one gold medal after another, and I cheered him on the whole way, often shouting at the screen, and waving my arms as though I could somehow propel him forward through sheer force of will.

There's so much drama and majesty to these games, and I eat up every second. So, naturally, I've been lax in getting other things done.

Also, my Mom came for a (short) visit and we crammed as much as we could in the few days she was here. We went shopping, saw a show, talked endlessly, and loved every second of it.

And then she left and I dipped into a bit of a funk, but distracted myself with watching the teeny tiny little girls go bouncing all around the gym in Beijing. Boing Boing BING! They're just so little! Some of them take so long to actually land because they get caught in a draft on the way down and just sort of hover for a minute. Who me? Exaggerate? Never.

Gah. And now I'm trying to slog my way through this blog, and it's not really working. Every sentence is draaaaaagged out of me...

So, I'm going to call it a night.

Hopefully I'll be better soon.
Jules

Coffee High

"Posts for August?" Jenna asks. Yeah, yeah, I'm gettin' to it!

I've been....procrastinating. I could lie, but you all know the truth anyway. And now, even though I have sat down to post a little something, I actually don't have time because I have to leave for work in about 10 minutes. It was all carefully planned by my subconscious. Devious little thing, isn't it?

I just got back from the beach! My roommate, Rachel, and our friend Maria, who is visiting from Argentina, decided to go to Coney Island and lay in the sun. It was lovely. They're still there, but I had to skedaddle because I have work at 3. Still, anytime spent in a place that is not work or the "batcave" is good. I think I may have even gotten a tan! I certainly have tan lines. So, I did the world a favor, because my white legs were starting to blind people on the street. I've seen it happen, it's not pretty. They scream and their eyes explode and drip gruesomely down their cheeks. Raise your hand if "Eww".

Whew! That second coffee really has me going now! I think I'll go run ten miles! Wow. I am seriously bouncing off the walls here, and I really have to go!

Must. Sell. Clothing. And. Handbags.

OK, I'm going now, but I will try to post more often. I was working on that video I told you about, several weeks ago, and that took up my blogging-time. It's really cool, though, and I can't wait for you guys to see it. Hopefully it will be done soon.

Later!
Jules