Maricel listened quite patiently...

when I talked about the accident. She has this way of listening. You can tell she's not just waiting for your lips to stop moving so she can talk. So is she a great listener or does she have a great fake listening face? Great listener. She can repeat stuff back to you. Guess I better get good at listening. Huh? What did you say?
See you in the funny papers...
Simon

We sat down at the dining room table and menu planned for the week...

I have gone strangely domestic in a very short period of time. Maricel has this wacky idea that you go see what you have in the kitchen and then look through your cookbooks to see what you can make from it. Who da thunk it? Then she made me take another walk. But I detoured her to the dairy bar for chocolate sodas. You cannot defeat FATMAN! She got a small, though. From the picnic tables at the dairy bar I can see the spot where Danny Anderson's parents got killed. I was freaking standing there on the corner waiting to cross the busy four-lane Anthony Wayne Trail to go see a friend that lived on Filbert Street. And I remember thinking that the guy in the blue van was going to hit the car because he blew through the damn light. I didn't really even have time to jump before I heard the wicked crunch and shattering glass. Cars crunching up like they were aluminum cans in a crusher. Back in the P.C. (pre cell phone) days, you couldn't get help so easily. But people who lived nearby called the cops. I went over to the cars with maybe four other people who pulled onto the median and got out to help. The cars were smashed up so freaking bad, you knew there wasn't a damn thing you could do. I just stood and watched. I couldn't believe they pulled someone alive from the flipped over flattened car. I didn't recognize Danny at first, then all of the sudden I put the pieces together and did. Then it hit me that his parents had to be dead. I told the paramedic I was his friend and asked if I could go to the hospital with him. The guy looked at me incredulously and asked if I'd been in the accident. I said that no, it was just a conincidence. He said I probably didn't want to see my friend like this. I think he figured Danny would be dead before they got him to the hospital. So did I, which is why I wanted to go. I ran home. The only time I'd run since junior high and the only time I've really run in the intervening years except when I heard someone breaking into my store. But that was just a short dash. I ran like three blocks that day. God, that was an awful day. Nothing funny about that one...
Simon

Watched V for Vendetta...

Maricel didn't care for the movie. She's decided that Alan Moore is a communist. Looking at his picture he does look a bit like Karl Marx. Communist isn't quite the joke word to Maricel as it is to be. But Marxist guerrillas aren't killing anybody I know. For those who pay way too much attention to my ramblings, my aunt and uncle weren't at Sunday dinner because they didn't want to leave Brian. Mom took some food out to them later. She called to say the cake Maricel and I sent was well-received. She apoligized for bringing my sister into this world. Well, not exactly. She apologized for my sister upsetting Maricel. Maricel was fine, I was the one who flipped out. Maricel could get another guy. I've reached the pinnacle here. I can't do any better.

She's not leaving me...

All she said after we left was, "Well, you said she was nuts."
"Oh yeah." I said.
"Guess she thinks every Filipino woman is a mail-order bride."
"I'll have to remember to confront her with her prejudices." I said. "I thought your opinions on terrorists were going to make her swallow her tongue."
"Your Grandpa liked them." She said.
"He's old school." I said.
"I tried to be nice." She said.
"Mom loves you." I said.
"I'm adorable." She said. "Or so you tell me."

I don't think my sister could have offended Maricel more...

had she spent a month carefully planning it. I'm not really sure how to describe it. I'm still dizzy and a little nauseous. It seemed pleasant enough. We arrived with our gooey butter cake in hand for a nice dinner with my parents, Grandpa and my sister. For reasons I can't even begin to fathom, Sis seems to think I bought Maricel in the mail. But that's not Marciel's fault, since she's an ignorant poverty-stricken third world girl forced to sell herself to a disgusting American comic book dealer. To which Maricel said something like, "Are you calling me a prostitute?"
Desperately trying to stop the volcano from spewing forth, I babbled something along the lines of "We met discusisng the X-Men in a forum."
"Sure." My Sissy said. "You hang out in dork chatrooms talking about superhereos." Then she asked my parents if they were embarrassed to have raised a son such as me who bought women.
Grandpa jumped in and asked Maricel if she'd ever watched NASCAR. Then he began to explain the history of the sport and the current standings in the race for the Nextel Cup. I went out in the garage to hang myself with some clothesline. Dad came out and suggested that I not. But I didn't really see any point to living.
"She gets like that." Dad said.
"You built that beast." I responded. "Destroy her!"
"Calm down." Dad suggested.
"The woman is working on a master's degree in education. She can type sixty words a minute. She's not a hooker!"
"Clearly." Dad said sensibly. "Your sister is..."
"Crazy! Crazy! And mean! Mean! And trying to ruin my freaking life!"
"She's just trying to save Maricel." Dad said.
"From me!" I said. "What's wrong with me."
"You're a man." Dad said. "We're the enemy."
"She's got no problem sleeping with the enemy." I said.
"Simon, that's my daughter you're talking about."
"Then you're the one to tape her mouth shut." I tossed him a roll of duct tape from the workbench.
"You guys are a little old for this stuff." Dad said as if I were the nutter butter.
"If she leave me..." I said.
"Nobody ever left someone they loved over their goofy siblings. Thank goodness or I'd be living alone." Dad said. He took my clothesline and took me inside and fixed a pretty strong Martini for me. Martini and NASCAR. What could be better.

This was my Sunday afternoon...

I wanted to stop half way up the steps for a rest...

but I did not. I was probably sweating and panting. Must impress female by showing I'm fit enough to climb stairs... I think I can...I think I can. What do you know? I actually could. Maricel held back and didn't sprint up ahead of me. I rang the bell and after a long pause and some noise inside a fairly hot looking blonde answered. It was definitely not Juanita. Half her size and a third of her age from the looks of her. She looked me up and down and did not seem impressed.
"Yeah?" She said.
"Is Danny here?" I asked feeling like a child coming over to play.
"No." She said.
"Uh, where is he?" I countered.
"Florida." She said.
"Florida?" I asked incredulously.
"Yeah, him and his nurse are in Florida. Some kind of health thing, the doctors think it's better for his health."
I hadn't been aware that Florida was good for paralysis.
"So he's in Florida with Juanita?"
"Yeah." She said. "I'm just the housesitter. I make sure nobody breaks in and I keep the mail box clear and put away the papers."
"I've been trying to get in touch with him." I said. "Is his e-mail and cell still the same."
"Same as what?" She asked. "As far as I know."
"I haven't heard back." I said.
"I don't mean to be rude, but maybe he doesn't want to talk to you. If he didn't even tell you he was going to Florida..."
"I guess you have a point." I said.
"Well if I hear from them, I'll make sure he knows you came over." She said. "I mean I can't let you in or anything 'cause I'm not allowed and I don't think I should give out his number or anything."
"I understand." I said. "Would you like to know who I am, so you can tell him I called?"
"Oh, yeah." She laughed.
"Simon Wolfe." I said and I paused to wait for her name. "Miss..."
"Carver." She said. "Heather Carver."
"Nice to meet you Heather." I said.
It really wasn't that nice to climb all those stairs to have a blonde ignore me, but there' no reason to be rude about it, is there?

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

What is this thing called exercise?

And why does my nearly perfect new best friend want me to do it? Troubling eh? She made me take a walk with her after the shop closed. Made me, I tell you! She looked at me and said, "Simon do you want to take a walk with me?" So there I was, cornered and forced to walk! The horror! The terror! The sidewalk is so hard. We went out to the overlook by the river. Heck of a view and the sign says it's the widest scenic overlook on the Maumee river between Indiana and Lake Erie. Pretty huh? My tax dollars at work and all. So while I was out and about, I decided we'd go up the road a bit and swing by Danny Anderson's house. It look odd, like nobody was there. Not neglected, but there weren't the usual planters of petunias that his nurse Juanita maintained during the summer. I hadn't noticed until now though I'd probably driven past a hundred plus times over the summer. So I decided to climb up the long flight of stairs and ring the bell. (You can get in on the ground floor from the alley in the back, that's why the paralyzed guy lives there.)

If you're dork enough to have enjoyed...

the previous series of jpgs, you might want to check out this site.

I had a good morning despite a bad night...

Dreams that looked like this gave way to about three hours of playing around under the covers. No I didn't say I did that for three straight hours. I said we played around. Which is a lot of fun when you aren't desperately sexually fustrated and longing to get to the main event. It invovled some of her dirtier attempts at fan fiction, a running joke that I choose not to get into and some cinnamon massage oil I picked up in Vegas. When breakfast time rolled around, I felt like this or maybe like this or this. Suffice it to say, the mood was a good one. I had a big bowl of Cocoa Puffs before unlocking the doors. Some days just rock.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

I dreamed about Danny...

Back when he was in the hospital and tacked together with pins and stuck in a halo. It was all mixed up with Brian with a dash of SWSNBN added in. Just what the hell my subconcious was trying to tell me, I'm not sure I really want to know.

I sat with Brian for about an hour...

Just sitting, listening to the machine help him breathe. The first time I can remember him having an attack was when we were about six. I must have seen him have them before, cause I distinctly remember going to get his inhaler for him. I read aloud to him. I didn't want him to fall behind on the Marvel Civil War. He could look at the pictures when he felt better. I left a message for Danny Anderson after I left the hospital. When I came home Maricel was engrossed in reading back issues of Fables. We had cheese, crackers and some other assorted snack foods for our dinner and watched some Stargate. Then we looked through a cookbook to come up with a dessert to bring to Sunday dinner. We decided on this.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

Mrs. NBN was concerned for her daughter.

We went upstairs to my living room to talk. She'd never been real fond of me. But here she was pleading with me to not press any charges. And while I was at it, I could give back her mother's earrings.
"I don't have the earrings." I said. "And they aren't in the closet where she was looking for them. My girlfriend and I cleaned it out the night before."
"Are you sure she didn't take them?" Mrs. NBN asked.
"Get the hell out of here." I said.
At least it was a brief encounter.

It doesn't seem much like working...

when you get to read comic books all day. At least that's what Maricel said. But I was minding the store. Didn't hurt to get a little reading in. I need to be current on the product if I'm going to discuss it with the customers. We were busier than usual. A lot of guys were coming in to get a look at Maricel. They were doing their best not to be obvious, but their best wasn't much. But they were buying and that was cool. I went upstairs to make us some sandwiches and came down to find eight customers in the store. I think I was violating fire codes. I had a surprise guest as well. Mother of SWSNBN showed up. Let's call her Mrs. NBN. I made her wait her turn until the other customers were taken care of. Cause I'm mean.

Maricel woke up with a nightmare...

Hospitals bring back bad memories. And so we went down and rearranged some shelves in the store, which caught Ellen's attention as she was stopping by the bakery for some doughnuts. They'll let cops come in before they open for doughnuts. She was just checking the burglars weren't stocking the store and also wanted to let me know that SWSNBN did get to spend the night in jail, though she'd surely make bail before the morning was out. This was more likely to be considered a domestic dispute. I wondered how that was possible since she doesn't live here. But I guess once you've shacked up with someone, it pretty much stays domestic forever and ever. I told her about Brian and she was kind of upset. I put on a pot of coffee and we had that along with some of the fresh doughnuts she had in hand.
"It was kind of fun to cuff her." Ellen said.
"Had you wanted to do that for a long time?" Maricel asked.
"Yeah." Ellen said.
"She seems kind of mean." Maricel said.
"Oh, she is." Ellen said.
"She wasn't always mean." I said.
"Yes she was." Ellen disagreed. "She just wasn't always mean to you."
Ellen looked through the new comic books and made her selections. She's still got some store credit from helping me out during the comic-con.
The action figure display looked a heck of a lot better when Maricel was finished with it. That probably didn't please Ellen because she's been wanting me to do something with it for months and months.
"Looks nice." Was all Ellen said.
"Maybe I should have listened to you." I said.
"No reason to start now." Was her parting shot. Mind you, this is my friend.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

We went to bed about 2 in the morning.

I woke up about four with two thoughts in my head.
Thought #1: I'm going to have to watch Brian for the rest of my life or he'll die. If I had asked him if he was taking ephedra, he would have told me the truth. He will always tell me the truth if I press him. He won't tell his parents the truth, but for some reason I get the truth. If I'd had been supervising him as closely as I usually do, I would have caught it. But, as you know, I've had something else on my mind for the past few months. I don't know if I can do it, but I think I have to. I don't want Brian to die.

Thought #2: I have a girl friend who loves me just as I am. She LOVES the store that is my life. She LOVES comics and toys and shows about time travel. She cooks, she works, she prays with me when my idiot cousin stops breathing. She writes erotic comic fan fiction. She is erotic comic book fan fiction. Is this what I get for looking after Weezer the rest of my life? Because I have said aloud "I do nothing but take care of this idiot and this is what I get in return?" Because if this is what I get in return for looking after Brian. Okay, I can deal with it.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

I'm getting this T-Shirt for Brian.

I don't know if it will do any good. But what the hell.

Brian went into cardiac arrest...

I don't know why, they said he was getting better. When Mom called they were still trying to bring him back, but by the time I got to the hospital (maybe eight minutes) his heart was at least beating again. It seems he was just taking some herbal diet supplements at perhaps eight to ten times the recommended dosage and that may have damaged his heart. His Mom found them in his room and showed them to his doctor. They've been banned in the U.S., but Weezer used the Internet (Damn Internet! No wait, I promised to never speak ill of it.) to buy some. He's always been terrified of getting fat like me. And being a lazy pot-smoking asthmatic, exercise is just not his thing. Jesus, if he wants to die so bad, why doesn't he just do it quick? But I know Brian doesn't want to die. He really kind of enjoys life in his own stupid way. Maricel got to meet Dad and my Aunt and Uncle. And out in the car, she took my hand and asked me if I'd like her to pray for him with me. And I did. God must love him, he's let him live this long. On a side note, thanks to everybody who has put in kind thoughts and prayers for Weezer. I know you miss him at the the shop. He's a big part of the ambiance. I wonder if God gets ticked that I never call unless I want something? Sharper than a serpents tooth...

Simon

Maricel was worried...

that SWSNBN had hurt my feelings with the "tub of lard" comment. So as we lay in bed, she was affectionately rubbing my pasty, doughy physique and making sure I knew that she loved me just as I am. I get that. I get that Maricel actually likes most of the things that SWSNBN disliked about me. One woman's trash is apparently another woman's treasure. My feeling weren't any more hurt than they were when I came home and found her gone. There's just a point beyond which someone can't hurt you any more. They can annoy you. And I am definitely annoyed. They can do two hundred dollars worth of damage to your back door and try to ruin your whirlwind romance. She could do all that for reasons I just don't get. But I don't think she can make me feel any worse.
"No wonder I couldn't find a girl." I said to Maricel. "I was looking on the wrong continent."
"And you were searching on land, when you should have been in cyberspace." She said.
"I'll never say a cross word about the Internet again." I said.
"I like it here so much." She said.
She could have meant America or Toledo or maybe my bed.
"Even with the bitchy blonde burglar?" I said.
"She barely even counts." Maricel said. "She can go live on a shelf with my big mistake."
"He ever break into your house?" I asked.
"No, I don't think he cared enough about me at the end to ever be bothered. And I did give him the jewelry back."
"If I had her freaking jewelry, I would have given back." I said. "Now I might just sell it to pay for my freaking door."
"See, I think you'd eventually give it to her sister." Maricel said. "But you might hold it until after her wedding."
"If I even had a clue what happened to them." I said. "I'm not spiteful. At least I didn't used to be, but I could be getting my spite on here."
Then the phone rang...

The #$*!ing back door was open...

BECAUSE SOMEONE BROKE THE WINDOW!!!! I called the police and Ellen was on duty. So guess who she caught tossing my house? Oh just guess? Why SWSNBN, of course. Ellen didn't shoot her, even though I asked politely.
"I want my earrings!" She demanded as if she'd not been caught breaking into my house.
"You just broke into my freaking house." I said.
"Well, you changed the locks. What the hell was I supposed to do." SWSNBN countered.
Ellen laughed at that one as did her partner.
"I don't have your earrings." I said.
"The hell you don't you spitelful little tub of lard." SWSNBN said. The look on her face when they handcuffed her was priceless.
She'd pulled everything out of the closets we'd just spent an evening arranging. I just sat down on the floor and beat my head against the wall a bit.
Maricel sat down beside me and grinned. "The bitch is in jail."
"She's so freaking high maintenance. That'll be beautiful." I said.
"How the hell did you end up with that?" She asked.
"She's a hot blonde." I admitted. "And she kind of used to be nice."
"Not as nice as I am." Maricel said and she kissed me. I mean really, really kissed me. Kissed me so good I forgot about the door and probably couldn't have told you SWSNBN actual name if you paid me.

As promised, I took Maricel out for a nice dinner...

We went here and had an excellent time. We were outside on the terrace overlooking the river and the weather was perfect. I asked her over dinner if she was disappointed at how I looked when she met me. "You look just like your picture." She said.
"So do you." I said. "I was a little surprised. I didn't think you'd be so pretty."
"You thought I was a liar?" She laughed.
"I thought nobody as attractive as you would want to meet me." I said.
"Oh, get over yourself." She said sounding perfectly American. "You aren't fat and you certainly aren't unattractive."
"But I'm not skinny and handsome." I said.
"Okay, you win. You're hideous and gigantic." Maricel said. "And I just have poor taste in men. It's really quite sad."
Then we went home to make mad passionate love. Well that was the plan. But you know what they say about the best laid ones of Simon...

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

Very busy day at the Wolfe's Den

Books came in, as well as a bunch of other stuff people have been waiting for and we were steadily busy all day. If we weren't full of customers, I was unpacking and calling people. Maricel was a huge help. She's equal to about 4.5 Weezers. She's still absolutely blowing the customers minds. I should pay her to be store decor. She's also quickly mastered the American monetary system and seems quite capable of making change and running the credit card machine. If you ordered anything, I should have called you. But just in case check the store's site under new arrivals and prepare to have your mind blown some more. I put up a picture of Maricel standing by the new Batman statues. I am definitely taking that girl out for a nice dinner tonight.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon Wolfe

I was a very domestic man...

after dinner. I did the dishes, cleaned the kitchen and vacuumed the apartment while Maricel spent a couple of hours on-line attending to some stuff. Then I took my snazzy martini set out and mixed us up some cosmopolitans. If all goes well, Maricel will start working on the master's in education next Jaunary or in the summer. She's got to get all of her transcripts and such in order. After we had a drink or three, I checked my e-mail and found that she had sent me some of the erotic comic fan fiction that had enlivened our correspondence over the past few months. I had been planning on e-mailing Danny Anderson, since I'd noticed I hadn't heard from him in three months. But I forgot all about in and went looking for my roommie. I'll get back with y'all in the morning...

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

I did stop by the hosptial briefly...

But I was relieved that Weezer was still out of it and my Auntie was gone to have dinner. My uncle doesn't say much besides hello. He said Brian was doing about the same and asked how I was. I said fine and that was about it. When I got home, Maricel had dinner ready and then we went for a nighttime walk around the neighborhood. I've always liked peeking into homes at night. Maybe peeking isn't the right word. I'm not in the bushes. The bugs were irritating to me, but Maricel says they're nothing. I don't care how big the bugs are in Manila. The ones here irritate me. When we got home, we ran into Jeff Belby who lives over the beauty salon next door. He said he caught someone lurking out in what passes for my back yard. His dog barked at whoever it was and he turned on a light and the lurker vamoosed. Lovely. Suddenly my yard in crime ridden.

See you in the funny papers...

Simon Wolfe

We did some re-arranging...

of stuff to make some real space for Maricel. We set up a little office space for her laptop and even went out to Target to find some spiffy office supplies. She was all about Target. I could always drop money there, it makes me feel like I have some taste. Maricel controlled me admirably. I didn't buy anything except some more of thos chili sour cream chips. Maricel bought her own office decor. I noticed she's real careful about not letting me spend money on her. She asked her cousin to ship a bunch of her things here. The cousin isn't so sure it's a great idea for her to move to Ohio to live with a stranger, but she's shipping her stuff anyway. She's probably sitting there shaking her head like I do when Weezer tells me he's started a small fire.

See you in the funny papers...

Simon

I realized that I was a pretty crappy person...

while Mom was busy praising me for bothering to visit Danny Anderson in the hospital. Some idiot with ten DUI's to his name had T-boned a car with Danny and his parents inside on the break between my sophomore and junior years of college. His parents were killed and Danny was paralyzed. The drunk was wealthy, well-insured and out for a drunken joyride in a company car. The settlement had been huge. That wasn't much when you're paralyzed and an orphan, but it's better than nothing. Technically, Danny was a parapalegic, but his arms had been so badly broken and mangled in the crash, that even though the spinal damage hadn't paralyzed them, he still had limited arm mobility and required a live-in aide. Danny and I had been friends in high school. (We played Dungeons and Dragons together) and I'd kept up the friendship. He'd been an exceptional customer to the store and sometimes I'd accompany him to conventions and events. He'd always pay my airfare. I'd been avoiding him for the last few months. I was totally caught up in my new girlfriend and I didn't want him asking to go to Vegas with me. I would have not been able to say no and I really wanted to spend time with Maricel. I sucked. I explained to Maricel that I was the scum of the earth. She disagreed, but did say it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to get in touch. I called his house and got a machine. Now I had a reprieve to work on an excuse for being scum.

See you in the funny papers....
Simon

Mom stopped in...

to see me. She'd been over at the hospital with Aunt J. Weezer is doing better and everyone is much relieved. I introduced Maricel and said that she was my friend from Manila who was visiting for awhile.
"Did you go to the convention?" Mom asked.
Maricel admitted that she had and that it was a very good time. Then she voluntered that she was born here in Toledo and had always wanted to come back here to visit.
Mom cut to the chase. "How long are you here for?"
"That's kind of open-ended." I said.
"Bring her over for dinner on Sunday." Mom said. "Your grandpa and your sister are coming, too."
"Okay." I said.
"You've been very good to your cousin." Mom said. "What's that smell?"
"Brian started a fire in the microwave." I said.
"Oh." She said shaking her head sadly. "You've always been good at visiting the sick. When that poor Anderson boy broke his back, you were at the hospital every day for a month."
More like three, but I didn't feel the need to pat myself on the back for visiting a friend in the hospital.
"Would you like me to bring a dessert?" Maricel offered.
"That would be lovely." Mom said. "Simon, I got a very unusual phone call from..."
"No, don't say the name." I warned her.
"Simon that's ridiculous."
I covered my ears and began to hum.
"Well She who you can't talk about says you stole her grandmother's earrings." Mom said.
"And what did you say?" I asked.
"I told her to go to hell and not call me." Mom said.
"You did not." I said.
"Yeah, I did." Mom said.
I like my Mom.

Only SWSNBN could make me frown....

with a giant hot ham and cheese sandwich in front of me. I explained the situation to Maricel.
"It's just so like her to march in here and demand to toss my house as if it's her inalienable right."
This from the girl who couldn't bother to even say bub-bye when she moved out. She just cleaned her stuff out of the apartment while I was in Columbus for a weekend show. She cleaned a little of my stuff out, too.
"Would a simple 'It's not working out, I'm afraid I'm leaving you.' be so freaking hard?" I asked. "I have no idea why she left. I guess I have some idea, we weren't exactly ideally suited for one and other. But I don't know what prompted her to clear out without a note. You know, I'm not violent, I'm not even a particularly angry guy."
"He wanted his grandmother's jewelry back." Maricel said. I was just sitting there across the table from him and he said. "I'd like to have Grandmother's jewelry back. I'd had it for four years. I said something like, 'huh?' and he said that he wanted his jewelry back and that it was obvious that our relationship wasn't going anywhere and that I never dressed up properly enough to wear anything that nice anyway. Then he took it away and gave it to the teenager."
"Why are we so wonderful and everyone else so awful?" I asked.
"We need more of these chile sour cream chips." Maricel said.

BTW... a few classes at UT and she could have a Master's in education. At least if the credits transfer like the advisor thinks they will. Anybody want to buy a pair of earrings?

See you in the funny papers...
Simon Wolfe

Maricel had a productive morning...

She was once again on an eight a.m. bus and off to downtown to take her test at the temp agency. She did fine on that, then she got sent for a TB test, pee test and physical. Then she headed on out to the University of Toledo to chat with someone in the Education program about just what she'd need to do to make sure she ranked as a highly-qualified teacher in Ohio. That way she'd be eligible for employment at any school. She kindly called me about every thirty minutes so I wouldn't think she'd gotten lost on the bus. She's braver than me. Public transport gives me the heebie jeebies. Maybe it's cause I got my ass beat so much on the bus in my youth.
For no apparent reason She-who-shall-not-be named left me a voicemail. I saw no reason to reply, but probably should have since she turned up in the store.
"Hello Simon." She said very formally.
"Go away." I said.
"I think I lost something and I need to look for it." SWSNBN said in that way where she demands instead of asks. I mean, if she needs it everybody get out the way. Could it be her soul? Her heart? Perhaps her conscience?
"No." I said.
"I can't find my grandmother's diamond earrings. I think I accidentally left them upstairs somewhere."
"You should have done a better job of sneaking out." I said. "I don't think you left anything here."
Except for a bitter aftertaste in my mouth.
"I'll just go up and look for them and leave." She started to walk right past me.
"No, you won't. You don't live here." I said. "Where do you think they are, I'll look for them later."
"Well, I sort of need them now." She said.
"So often we need emergency diamond earrings." I said.
"I'm getting married next weekend. In the Virgin Islands. It's a destination wedding."
That felt more like a punch in the stomach than I would have imagined. But she meant for it to feel that way. I can't being to describe the nastiness of her tone. SWSNBN seemed to hate me and I absolutely had no clue as to why. I could understand growing bored with or annoyed with but I cannot thing of what I ever did to inspire a move-out-without-telling-him kind of hatred. If anybody else knew why, they weren't telling.
I guess I was supposed to ask who she was marrying, but I didn't. I had an idea.
"I'll look tonight or tomorrow." I said. "Where do you think they're at?"
"I think in the closet or maybe that little cubby thing in the bathroom."
"I didn't see them in your old closet. You pretty much emptied it out and I took everything else out of there last night."
"It would be easier if you just let me look."
"Not for me." I said. "I'll look. If I find them, can I just give them to your sister?"
"You won't find them." SWSNBN said. "You don't know how to look for anything."
"Do you want me to try or not? Cause I can just as easily not try."
"You are such a jackass." She said.
The bell on the door rang and Maricel came in. She smiled politely at SWSNBN and then asked if I'd eaten lunch yet. I said no and Maricel said she'd go make us some sandwiches. Then she disappeared into the back to go upstairs.
"Who's that?" SWSNBN asked.
"The girl who lives here." I said.
"How much did that cost you?" She said pretty much destroying any chance I'd look for her damn earrings.
My reply really doesn't need to be repeated aloud or written down anywhere.

By the way...

It was a hundred bucks to fix the back door. Stupid door window breakers. Maricel spent the evening curled up on the couch reading. I was reading myself, but not looking nearly as good. I had a digital music channel from the cable playing in the background and I was struck by the utter pleasantness of it all. Like Maricel, all I really want is some quiet time to enjoy my pleasures.

They said Weezer was breathing easier...

and resting comfortably. So I didn't go out to the hospital after work. I took Maricel to library to get her very own library card. It was incredibly exciting. I bypassed the two closest library locations to go to the one in Maumee that's situated in the lovely historical green space. Men fought and died in this parking lot during the War of 1812. More specifically, Dudley's Massacre happened here in the parking lot. If you follow the link, scroll down to the D's.
But we picked up some music and some reading materials. She was impressed with the library, though I liked it better before they spent a bazillion dollars rennovating it. Now it looks all historical on the outside, but just like any old office building inside. Afterwards we sat outside on a park bench for awhile. Maricel said that she had always wanted to come live here (really here to Toledo) because her father always made the US sound like home when he talked about it. He was a second generation American and he would have been quite happy to stay here, but he married a Filipino girl who didn't like the cold and didn't like not being where she considered home.
"This is where I always felt like I should live." She said.
"I hope it doesn't dissapoint." I said.
"You mean there won't be rivers of chocolate, rainbows of candy and streets paved with gold?" She replied.
"There might be." I said. "You never know."

See You in the funny papers...
Simon

Yes, I know...

that English is the official language of the Philippines. I was not surprised that Maricel spoke English well. I was surprised that she speaks it with almost a perfect American accent and with American syntax and colloquialisms. She went to a school designed for American and British expats (very important to her father), so I suppose that would reinforce it. Don't worry, I'm not completely stoopid.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

I made lunch...

Not a difficult task since we bought all that crap at Kroger's, but she did like the sandwich and agreed that the kettle cooked sweet red chile sour cream potato chips do indeed rock.
And in between bites sitting at the counter in the store, she sighed kind of contentedly and said. "All I've ever wanted was just a little peace and quiet in which to enjoy the pleasures I have in this life without someone passing judgment on what I should be doing."
"Potato chips and comic books?" I asked.
"Precisely." She said. "I didn't mind going to school all day or working all day. But when I want to relax, I'd like to be permitted to do it."
"Feel free." I said.
She laughed. "My mother was always afraid I wouldn't find a husband if my nose was continually stuck in a book. And my boyfriend, I guess he wanted a more feminine sort of girl."
"Your mother was probably afraid you'd end up in a comic store in Toledo." I said.
"And here I am." Maricel said. "It's like I've died and gone to heaven."
Her voice was free of sarcasm. I know the Wolfe's Den is my idea of heaven, but a cute chick that thinks so... I've died and gone to heaven. Assuming you have people busting in your doors in heaven.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon Wolfe

Amazingly enough Maricel can ride the bus...

And get an ID and and buy a cell phone. Who knew? She just got an Ohio ID, she wanted to study the driver's manual and make sure she's familiar with American Road rules. She hasn't driven much in the past few years. I promised I'd take her tooling around some of my favorite empty parking lots and back streets once she had her temps in hand.
"Do I get a present when I pass the test?" She asked.
"You got my Catwoman statue, what the hell else do you want?"
She made a rather interesting suggestion. I said I'd do that anyway. "How about flowers, I'll get you some flowers."
"That would be nice." She said. "Candy, too."
"I know where you can get a good used car." I said.
"I need to get a job first." She said. "I don't think I'd be able to teach at a public school because you can't just transfer certifications. But I might be able to substitute teach or work at a private or charter school."
"Been doing a little research?" I asked.
"Well, I might have made some inquiries before I went to Vegas." She said.
"Got any job interviews lined up?" I asked.
"I'm taking a test at a temporary agency that supplies substitute teachers tomorrow." She said.
"When you get your license you can use my car if you want." I said. "I never go anywhere during the day."
"I have enough cash to get a used car." She said.
"You have one picked out?" I laughed.
"Just checked the prices in general online." She said. "I'm not expecting you to support me and drive me around."
"So it's just the hot bod, you're after?"
"Pretty much." Maricel said.

Ellen dropped by the store...

after she got off work. Maricel was already off to the BMV on the bus. Ellen looked around the shop warily as if Maricel might jump out and bite her.
"She's out getting an Ohio ID." I said. "All is clear."
I gave Ellen a cup of coffee and she inspected the back door again as if it might have changed since early this morning. I handed her a book I knew she'd been looking for from the bunch we'd priced earlier.
"Thanks." Ellen said and she didn't say anything else. Not very Ellen-like.
"You mind letting Ellen out of the pod, I'd like to talk to her." I said.
"What?" She said sharply.
"Just what exactly are you mad about?"
"I don't know." Ellen said. "Are you sure that girl isn't playing you?"
To give myself credit, I didn't get mad.
"Playing me for what?" I asked. "My millions?"
"I don' t know. Girls will do almost anything to get in the country."
"She was born here." I said. "She's a citizen, she doesn't need me to get in the country."
"Oh." Ellie looked deflated.
"We've been talking for more than a year." I said. "We have a lot in common."
"We have a lot in common." Ellen said. "That doesn't mean I should move in with you."
"You shouldn't move in with me." I said.
"Pretty people aren't like us." Ellen said.
"What, I'm not pretty?" I said. "I'm crushed."
"I'm trying to keep you from getting hurt." She said. "I was right about M...."
"No, no, no!" I covered my ears. "Not to be spoken in my presence. Not to be spoken in my presence."
"Well I was right about her, wasn't I?"
"I knew you were right about her. I just didn't care. I thought she was the best I could do. But I was mistaken. You need to adjust your attitude."
"Do I?" Ellen asked with a big old frown on her face.
"I love her, Ellie Mae. When you say mean things about Maricel, it hurts my feelings."
"You love her?" She said doubtfully.
"I love you, too. But not in the same way." I said.
"Just the one time." Ellie said with an unexpected smile.
"There actually is a difference between love and sex." I said.
"You remember that." Ellen said. "Okay?"

I wasn't getting back to sleep anytime soon...

So Maricel and I priced a couple of boxes of books I'd been meaning to get to. It's a lot faster with help and she's a sharp girl. I accused her of having the Overstreet guide memorized. She says she's just a fast reader. She also pulled a bunch of books out to read later. Then around seven thirty, she made me breakfast. I'm sure there's a lot of people that are going to think I had a robot built to be my friend. I don't know why any hot chick in her right mind would want to cook for me, much less sleep with me, either.

I heard glass breaking...

Not a good sound, but a good reason to live over your store. It was a full thirty seconds before the damn alarm went off and by that time I was up, my pants were on and so were the lights. Somebody had broken the glass on the window to the back door. Mostly just making a mess. Whoever it might have been was long gone by the time Ellen and her partner got there. She recognized the address. Nothing missing, not even that much damage. I swept up the glass and then covered up the door with some cardboard and tape, the officers wrote it up and we were done within the hour. Ellen is still giving Maricel the evil eye for some reason I can't quite grasp. If she wanted me for herself, she had several chances and more than a few offers. I don't get it.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon Wolfe

Maricel has plans for tommorw...

She wants to go get her driver's license or at least an ID and then pick out a cell phone. I offered to take her, but she says there's no reason she just can't take the bus. She looked up where she wants to go in the phone book and the bus line (she looked up the routes online) goes past both of them. I think I started to protest, but she reminded me that she grew up in a much larger, and she thinks, much more dangerous city.
"I've got my birth certificate, my passport and even my poor old Social Security card with me. I shouldn't have a problem."
Now if she brought her birth certificate and her poor old unused Social Security card that she got as a baby with her, I'm thinking she might have been planning on extending her stay in the U.S. Of course, why couldn't she? Why wouldn't she? And then it was like she was trying to read my mind.
"You aren't my ticket to America." She said. "I am a natural born citizen."
"I didn't say anyting." I said.
"I've just always wanted to come here. And I mean here specifically. Papa always talked about America and what a great place Toledo was."
"He's got to be the only one." I said. "Except for Jamie Farr."
"Don't think I don't know who you're talking about." She said. "I love MASH and women's golf."
"You play golf?' I asked.
"I watch golf." Maricel said. "And I know how to take the bus."
"Gee, you don't need me for anything, do you?" I said.
"Oh, I can think of a couple of things." Maricel said. She held up her martini glass. "Make me another one, why don't you."
We just dropped into bed really tired from what I don't know.
"I think we're just going to go to sleep tonight." I said as we were halfway to dreamland.
"I've worn you out with my insatiable desires." She murmured.
And that's the last thing I knew until about 3 am when...

His breathing seemed easier...

But he was a asleep or unconscious, I'm not sure which. I don't know if Brian really is better or not. Aunt Jeannie was glad to see me, though. She touched my face and said. "You've got a little lipstick on there."
"Didn't get all off after the drag show." I said.
"Dang." She said. "That must be one scary drag show."
"I have a new friend." I admitted.
"Good for you." Aunt Jeannie said.
"We went to the comic convention together." I added.
"Well, that must be a special friend." She said. "Brian didn't wreck the store too badly did he?"
"Just a little smoke." I said.
She sighed wearily. "Oh dear, Simon. He's not going to get any brighter, is he?"
"It seems unlikely." I said.
"The asthma's going to kill him. He won't do what they tell him to out of pure laziness. There's nothing we can do about it."
"I don't think he wants to die." I said. "He might listen."
"Oh he'll listen for awhile, then something will distract him." She said. "I think he owes someone money again. Someone called the house."
"They leave a name?" I asked.
"No." She said. "But most of the time they don't."
"You want to go get something to eat, I'll stay with him." I said.
"Your Uncle Darrell is bringing something up, thank you." She said. "You've always been such a good boy."
"You ain't been talking to Mom." I said.

It was unexpectedly awkward...

when Ellen came by the store. Not sure what was going on, but she didn't seem happy to see Maricel. She was polite, but I sure as hell know when Ellen has her hackles up and they were up. I gave Ellie Mae her presents from Las Vegas and thanked her for helping out at the store. But there was a definite chill in the air.
"You go out with her?" Maricel asked when Ellen left.
"No." I said.
"You sleep with her?" Maricel persisted.
"Well, just once a long time ago." I said.
Maricel nodded knowingly.
"I mean, I don't think she liked it much cause she made it pretty clear she didn't want to make that mistake again."
"Maybe she liked it too much." Maricel said.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"It means she won't like anyone you bring home, ever." Maricel said.
That was true enough. But I don't get the part about liking it too much and I told her that.
"It's not really something you can explain." Maricel said. "It just is. I'm going to go upstairs and make us something to eat."
And she did. Country Captain Chicken from my 30 Minute Meals book. Quite good. So here I am, well-fed and slightly puzzled.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon Wolfe

The nice thing about the store is the hours...

11 to 7 ain't bad. I mean there's the Ebay store, too. But most of the time I can do that right at the counter at work. We get busy times. When school gets out, right after work, Saturdays and most espeically Thursdays when the new shipments arrive. But I usually have plenty of time to take care of stuff. But we were busy from the get go today. Lots of concern for Weezer, which was nice. Also lots of inquiries as to what that smell was. Maricel was causing more excitment than the Marvel Civil War. She was just stitting on a stool reading and being politely introduced. But that was enough. Around two she went over to the bakery and got some croissants and then took them upstairs and filled them with a chicken salad made with the leftover pineapple chicken. It was really good. Just after four, some dude came in and asked "Where's the other guy?" He didnt' sound happy.
"Basically pretty close to being in a coma." I said.
He cursed and just turned around and left without asking any questions. Not that unusual an occurence, people often come looking for Weezer. The dude was a big white guy with blonde hair done in little braids. He was trying hard to act like a gang banger, hell maybe he was a gang banger. I would have to find out how much money Weezer owed him.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

I woke up at four

feeling like I'd slept for twelve hours, so I went down to the store and took care of some business. Ellen had made a deposit to the bank. She checked for fake bills and said she didn't find any. She's a cop who used to be a bank teller, so I figure she knows how to tell. I can't figure out yet what Weezer bought. There's no gigantic stash of books I can't sell anywhere. So it least it's no repeat of the ten boxes of the same coverless comic fiasco of a few years back. I have the nagging fear that he bought me a python and it's up in the ceiling. When I realized the bakery next door was open, I went to get some doughnuts. When I got back, Maricel had woken up and started a pot of coffee. She was padding barefoot around the kitchen in one of my Batman T-Shirts.

Life without sex is sort of like life without cheese...

I mean, you can survive. You can even get used to it. But why would you want to? Right now, it's like I'm swimming in a fondue pot. That won't last, I know. But just knowing you have some cheese in the fridge offers hope for interesting possibilities. For some reason I said this aloud to Maricel and she laughed so hard she fell off the couch. Then we started talking about fondue. So we went to the store to get some milk to make some. I have a bitching harvest gold fondue pot. Thankfully the Kroger's is nearby. There used to be a family grocery right across the street, but the Kroger's and the times helped put it out of business. Maricel was digging on the Kroger's. It seems that Filipinos, much like Americans, just love food. They snack all the time. I assume they eat less or they'd be big-time fat. She says they just walk more. But we ended up buying two hundred dollars worth of groceries. Now this is on top of my super-stocked pantry. Then we made fondue. Then we made some noise. Then we sat up in bed and read comic books. The Catwoman statue was watching us from the dresser. Maybe I had an asthma attack and died and this is heaven. Maybe she's going to kill me in my sleep. That seems more likely. but I shall die satiated and full of cheese. What more could any man ask?

The Ebay orders are packaged and ready to ship...

I decided to get productive once the ice cream digested. My Aunt says Weezer is sleeping comfortably and that my visit seemed to make him feel better. I packaged a bunch of orders and then looked through Previews and then through Platinum's book to decide what the heck I'm ordering. I asked Maricel's opinion on some stuff. Being that she's a bit of a comic businesswoman herself, she's all about the profit margin. This could be LOVE

Yeah, I did close the store for a day...

I guess I didn't cover that in my previous post. Ellen made up a nice "Closed due to illness" sign. But I used my day off to visit the sick and acquaint Maricel with the neighborhood. After ice cream we walked around. Mrs. Phipps, the nice blind lady who live across the street from the store was sitting out on her porch and I stopped by to introduce Maricel. She's a nice lady, she used to be on my paper route as a kid and when her nephew went criminally insane, she sold me his comic collection at an excellent price. I told her she could get more piecing it out, but she just wanted it done and the money in hand to pay for his defense/treatment. After that, we took a long walk all around the neighborhood. If your remember, I'm near the Zoo and close to the river, so there's some decent nature to take in. Then we went back home and Maricel said out of nowhere. "I'm not just coming here to run away and hide from something else, I want to make sure you understand that."
But even if she is, I think I'm okay with that.

She made chicken...

with pineapple and Sprite of all things. There wasn't a whole lot in the refrigerator since I was going on vacation. But the freezer was full of meat and I do have a well-stocked pantry. I keep everything the hot girl from 30 Minute Meals tells me to. From out on-line chats, I knew Maricel liked to cook and that fueled my interest, cause that gave us something to discuss besides comics. A great subject, but you don't want to run it dry. She had looked through my cookbooks (mostly anything anyone from the Food Network puts out) and was intrigued my some of the recipes. But she decided to make something her mother used to cook for her for me. It was pretty good. I love the idea of cooking with pop. For dessert we went to the dairy bar two doors down and and had soft serve. We sat at the picnic table and watched people with their kids and their dogs order sundaes and cones.
"I like it here." Maricel said.
Yeah, I like it here, too.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

He looks bad...

Real bad. I don't think I reacted, though. The nurse was nice, explaining that while the ventilator looks scary, it's just giving his tired lungs a rest so he can get better. It was an explanation you'd give a ten-year-old, but it made me feel better.
"You think you can hide here from me after what you did to the store?" I said and he opened his eyes. "You're lucky the nurse is watching." I took out my phone and showed him a picture of Maricel by the pool at the Mandaly Bay. I put it close so he could see and his eyes moved to follow the phone. "See, you said my girlfriend was only pretend. And here she is with me just in case you think this is some random hot chick."
The nurse laughed. Brian grabbed hold of my hand.
"I knew you were faking." I said. "It's okay, no need to get excited. We can talk about everything later. I'll show you all my photos from Vegas."
"Wow!" the nurse said. "Vacation pictures!"
"Chill." I said to Brian, who looked like he was getting agitated. He seemed to listen.
I say seemed because he never listens to me. Or the doctors or his parents. Or the laws of gravity. Or of the laws of the State of Ohio. He is, however, the living embodiment of Murphy's Law.

If I have not found my soul mate...

I've found my ideal bed mate. I've slept better in the past few days than I have since I was kid with no real problems. I told her that when we woke up. She said I made an excellent pillow myself. "Among other things."
"I pride myself of being a multi-tasker in bed." I said and she laughed. I wanted to get over the hospital and she said not to feel bad about leaving her alone, since it was a bad time to introduce your new girlfriend and she didn't like hospitals anyway. So I left her with some pretty good comics and drove over to the hospital.

The store is still here!

But it really smells bad. Febreeze and burnt popcorn don't make such a good combination. There's a third distinct smell that I can quite identify. Like maybe he tried to clean up with a bottle of Pinesol before switching to Febreeze. It smells a little like an old-time musty movie theater. Actually a little like the bathroom of an movie theater. Hmmm...

Maricel clapped her hands and jumped up and down. "I'm living in a comic store!" Well, actually over one. She thought the apartment was nice. "Really nice. Bigger than I thought it would be."
It is a nice apartment. I pointed out the hardwood floors and attractive wood trim that had never been painted like I was trying to rent it to her. I called to check on Weezer and then we dropped into the bed for a nap. It's sort of like she's always been here.

The flight home...

was the polar opposite of the flight out. It was completely uneventful. We were a bit quiet on the way home. We read a lot. Didn't really talk about the future. The future is likely to start all on its own.

See you in the funny papers...
check the website for post-comic-con specials
Simon Wolfe

Vegas is...

Tacky, kitschy and all wrong. It's also great fun if you don't tend to view everything as a significant sign of the decline of society. Although the Libertarian in me says people should be able to gamble wherever they want, part of me thinks it was just a bit cooler when this was the only place you could go do do it in style. But I know that cool simpler time that we all imagine existed never really did exist at all. What that has to do with my fun-freakin'-tastic vacation at Comic-Con, pardon VERY IMPORTANT BUSINESS TRIP, I do not know. But I think we shall have to come back here at least once a year. The plane tickets are all worked out. Maricel has a ticket to Ohio on the same flight as me. I have packed and bubble wrapped my purchases and Fed-Exed them home ahead of me. Mom says Weezer had a setback, whatever that means. I was right about the weed, they did a tox screen. Smoking? Smoking? Make some damn brownies you pothead! But that would probably mean another small fire. Then Mom said, "Brian opened his eyes when they told him you weren't mad at him."
Probably because he knew it was a load of crap. But I'll talk to him when I get home and beat him up when he's recovered. What happens in Vegas is definitely not staying in Vegas.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon Wolfe

Sorry kids, I seem to have forgotten 'bout ya...

I know I've been a neglectful blogger. But I have been otherwise occupied.

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY



Simon's got a girlfriend and a very sick cousin. I had a bad night last night.
I kept dreaming about him not being able to breathe. Maricel says she has some
problems with nightmares. She dreams that her dad is at their old house and
that he's been waiting for her all these years or that her mother is still alive and
she's forgotten to take care of her for months and months. If he dies, I'll kill him.

I spent a bunch of money on Weezer

It made me feel better, I don't know what good it'll do him. As if employing him wasn't good deed enough. But I guess it's your job to look after your idiot relatives. I guess it's not nice to call someone in the hospital an idiot. But I bought him stuff... Lots of nice stuff... And I'm sorry about the time I said I didn't think he had asthma, he was just too stupid to breathe.

Mom called with bad news...

Weezer is in the hospital. Hasn't been taking his medication and the idiot has probably been smoking weed. He had a really bad asthma attack. I mean call the paramedics to resuscitate him bad. Fortunately there was a good customer in the store who called for help, took the key off him to lock everything up behind them and e-mailed me through the website about what to do with the keys. You guys are awesome, better than customers and less trouble than friends. Certainly less trouble than my family. Just kidding family! Anyway, right now he's on a ventilator, though the doctors told his parents that since he got oxygen and apparently never stopped breathing completely, there probably isn't any brain damage. (Proves they didn't know him before, I guess) I asked if I should come home, though I don't know what I'm going to do besides open the store and Ellen (safely in possession of the keys, thank you) said she could sit there and just handle basic purchases. Mom says Weezer doesn't seem to be dying or anything and that it wouldn't help anything for me to cut short my IMPORTANT BUSINESS TRIP. It's important and it's business, 'kay?

I wonder if the combination of popcorn fumes and Febreeze did him in? I assume God looks after Weezer because he can't do it for himself, but just in case I did sort of quietly put in a good word for him and if you go for that kind of thing, it probably wouldn't hurt. He's harmless to people, hard on property and the only stoner asthmatic employee cousin I got.

We spent a whole morning looking at toys!

Well, customized action figures and dioramas and the sort of stuff dorks with talent devote themselves to. I took lots of pictures. I was still a little dizzy from planning my life, but pleased that I'd hooked up with a girl who has been dying to see some Tom Strong action figures as much as I have. Maricel actually does customize figures. She uses the Volks stuff to make some pretty fantastic anime inspired figures. Did I mention she was awesome?

We skipped the buffet....

and just ordered breakfast in the room. We had another serious talk about how badly we'd both been burned in our previous long-term relationships. SWSNBN was named and thoroughly discussed. We decided to simplify and villify our exes and move on. We called SWSNBN and Cheating Bastard about every profanity and combination of profanities we could come up with. It was fun. Then we had crepes and Mimosas. I love the concept of booze for breakfast. I guess I could have it every morning and walked downstairs to the store buzzed, but it would seem out of place. That never stopped Weezer from coming to work with a beer, but I guess that's why he's required by law to take the bus.

See you in the funny papers...
The apparently affianced Simon Wolfe

She remembered...

When I opened my eyes this morning, she was staring right into them. "You can rescind your offer." She said. "I didn't get it in writing."
"I don't think you quite grasp that I'm getting the better end of this deal." I said.
"Can I come back with you now. Back to Ohio with you from Vegas and just have some of my stuff sent there. I'm not really living anywhere. I don't have anything unpacked but some clothes and most of them are with me."
"Sure." I said and thus changed my life real quick.
But I took it slow and sensible with She-who-shall-not-be-named and that crashed and burned like you wouldn't believe. But SWSNBN always made me feel just a little uneasy like I wasn't quite good enough for her. I should feel that way about Maricel, based on looks I'm way out of my league, but I don't. I am very much at ease. Which is an unusual feeling for me. Kinda makes me uneasy.

Life Changing decisions...

are probably not best made at three in the morning after a night of drinking... Or are they? I guess I'll know depending on how well this all works out, won't I. I asked Maricel if she might like to come to Toledo for an extended visit. She had been waiting for that. I fought against the urge to drag her out for a Klingon Wedding. They have them, ya know. Instead we decided that Maricel would come to stay (I guess live is the word, but I'm having trouble with it) with me and see if she could stand me. That wasn't how she put it, that's how I put it and she laughed loudly at that. She was drunk. But we'd see how well she'd get acclimated to living in a new place that gets very cold. And I said if it looked like... I don't know.... like something good after six months we could get married. So if you still feel the pressure to get married, but don't mind living and sleeping together, how good a Catholic are you? I don't know, but I think I just proposed. Weird. Let's see if she remembers it in the morning.

I went dancing....

Well sort of. Maricel danced and I stood there and watched doing only a slight bit of swaying. I haven't been dancing since college other than getting dragged out onto the floor at a couple of weddings. But I took advantage of a dance floor filled with guys who can't even sway as well as I do. At least I can sway to the beat. I know I'm getting old, everything sounds LOUD. These kids today and their music... I heard a lady tell the woman she was with that watching all of those Comic book people roaming the hotel made her feel like Jane Goodall. I laughed really loud and when she noticed my Wolverine fancy clubbing shirt, she looked really embarrassed. But I had a good time, a whole lot to drink and then a long late-night discussion with Maricel about life, the universe and everything. Which led to....

The Trek-gasam continued....

With a little presentation and a meet and greet. I'll reserve my opinion on the J.J. Abrams movie until I see it (assuming it gets made) Pictures and running commentary in the usual place. Ran into some old friends I used to see when I was a full-blown Trekker back in the day. Maricel and I had dinner with them. It was a weird mixture. One dude and his wife are your basic normal people who, like me I hope, just hit these things for fun. There's another fellow who might be a wee bit too intense, but two of the guys... It's their religion. They have all of these ideas about what should and shouldn't get made for film and TV. None of it is remotely related to anything that would every make money or get any viewers. I just feel kind of bad for them. If they put that amount of enthusiasm into their own lives... When Maricel and the other girl went to the ladies room, one of them asked me how much Maricel had cost me. They were absolutely certain that I'd hired a call girl. I said, "Dude that's my girlfriend. You're calling my girlfriend a hooker." The sensible fellow among them asked how the hell you'd find a hooker who was interested in Star Trek. Once they accepted that Maricel was my friend and not my hooker, they wanted to know where they could get Filipina girlfriends. I suggested magic beans.

Maricel and I shared this dessert sampler of five different desserts. Damn good thing I went on a diet before I came out here.

I left Maricel by the pool...

To meet up with some other dealers for drinks. Just what I need, I know, more liquor. But I was already getting lobster-pink in the sunshine. And she just wanted lie in the sun and read some of her new books. 24 solid hours with me is more than anyone should have to deal with. I had a good time although I wondered how wise is was to leave someone that goodlooking out by the pool with so many lonely guys wandering around. I must be confident. Weezer texted me FEBREEZE ROCKS! He's probably huffing it.

Talking with other dealers, I get the feeling my business is in pretty good shape. The market is soft, God knows, especially compared to the early nineties, but I'm feeling more confident than ever that my decision to stay out of debt at the expense of expansion has been a good one. I've felt the pain of not being able to acquire some things acutely, but that's not as bad as the pain of 23% interest.

I actually lied about debt, Grandpa did help me buy the building and I owe a mortgage on my home/business. But he gave me a huge anti-debt lecture and said not to borrow to buy anything that isn't practically guaranteed to go up in value.

Sorry to say, but one of the guys has so much surplus intentory strangling him along with huge credit card balances, that I may be able to get a good deal of good product off him for next to nothing. I can just rent a truck and drive to Indiana. When I said that I pay in cash, his eyes lit up.

I ended up buying the drinks.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon Wolfe

The pool is more than a pool....

It's a beach. With a mini-ocean. Usually I try to stay as pale and sickly looking as possible, just so my customers feel comfortable, but I took my blanco behind out there and stuck it in a beach chair. I took a dip in some SPF 1,000,000 and tried to remember the last time I had a tan. I even bought some swim trunks. Nothing riduclous, just some basic solid color baggy swim trunks. Nothing funnier than a guy the color of rice wearing obvioiusly brand new swimwear. I wish it had not been so easy to spot the people from Comic-Con at the pool But it was. Dear Lord, it was. I was tempted to take some pictures, but then I realized that someone could be taking pictures of me. Maricel's suit was new, too. She said she needed this style cause she's got a bit of a stomach. I guess so, in that there's actually a stomach and not just ribs and a concave place. She even got me in the pool. Nobody tried to harpoon me, thank goodness. Truthfully looking at some of the other guys hanging around. I'm not so bad and at least I've got sense enough not to wear a Speedo, you know.

Sometimes I like to pretend that I'm really not a fanboy...

That went totally out the window. I paid big bucks to pose with Star Trek sets, I was completely and totally thrilled to overpay for food and drink at a bar set up to look like Quark's from DS9. I am happy and relieved to have photographic proof that Maricel is a bigger dork than me. That's a pretty big dork. If occurs to me that I'm out doing exactly what my family imagines I do in my free time. So I snapped some shots on the cell phone and sent them to my sister and to my grandfather.

Then back to the hotel to revel in all things Marvel Comics. Maricel is an X-Men fanatic as anyone who as been following the twisted tale of my intercontinental romance will know. It's interesting where an on-line discussion about Wolverine's adamantium skeleton will get you. I plan on writing this up in detail on the Wolfe's Den page while sitting by the pool...

Post shopping spree and pre-Star Trek Experience

We went up to our room for a little while. Woo Hoo! We've both been along a little too long. Maricel said she was hoping she wouldn't like me so much in person because it makes her think she really is in love with me. ME! I guess I was so sure nobody could be as cool as the Maricel in my head that I was just ready to be disappointed. She's prettier than I thought, smarter than I hoped, funnier than hell and just kind of sad in a way that doesn't come through in an IM or even a phone call. But she's got a lot to be sad about. It's not like she's been a funk cause she broke her nail. She spent so long taking care of her mother. First emotionally, then physically. I don't think she knows what she's supposed to do next. I have the store, I have my family. I have an anchor. Sometimes my family feels like an anchor dragging me to the bottom of the lake, but you know what I mean.

Went on a buying binge...

When I die I want to go to the sales floor and I want Maricel with me. Bought a ton of stuff for my personal collection. NOTHING for the store. I'm working hard to not make this a business trip, though of course I am doing some networking. For a detailed listing of what I got, check out the convention page on the store's website. No good deals, not by a long shot. But some cool stuff. Maricel found a lot of stuff she'd never even seen before. She was really enjoying herself. Ran into a guy I knew in college. He literally lives in his parents' basement and works part-time at a video store. He's every fanboy stereotype you've ever heard. Told me about his screenplay for Star Trek. It's for the Next Gen cast and he's going to try to give it to Johnathan Frakes. I suggested that getting a literary agent might be a better approach. He looked at me like I was nuts. Don't care. I suspect he's never had sex in his life. His tongue fell on the floor when I introduced him to Maricel. He told her liked hot Asian chicks and asked if she'd like to read his screenplay. It's almost like I brought Weezer with me.

See you in the funny papers....
Simon

Breakfast was awesome...

The people who didn't like the buffet must have live-servants who whip up something new and different every morning. Marciel loves food and loves to eat. We have that in common. I told her about my diet and she confessed that she had gotten her first hair cut in four years, bought makeup and new jeans to impress me. ME! She says she keeps her weight down by eating just a little of everything and she had this really interesting exercise program of running up and down the stairwell of her apartment building just like those people who jog up and down stadium steps. She said it was also a good way to blow off steam when she got really stressed over her mom. She could run the stairs without really going far away from her mother. Poor Maricel.
More cryptic text messages from Weezer about my SURPRZ. Can't wait.

A funny thing happened on the way to the buffet...

Maricel came out of the shower and was standing there wearing just a Punisher T-Shirt and drying her hair. "You're a very nice man." She said. This is usually the part where women break up with me. Maricel took a different tack and decided to jump my bones.

Dear Lord, it has been awhile. Not since She-who-shall-not-be-named ripped out my heart, took a bite, shoved it back in, pulled it out again, took it out and stomped it and then set it on fire. I feel very relaxed. It seems Ellen was right, I did need to get laid. And this magnificent day still holds for me this and this. And the Superman forum, which I will go into in great detail I'm sure. I'm a geek with a girlfriend at a comic conventon. Life is good.

See you in the funny papers....
WoooHooo
Simon

I posted

a metric ton of pics on the store's webpage. FAN-GASAM! in case you didn't know. Hot Cylon Alert!

Talked to Weezer briefly

while Maricel was enjoying the whirlpool tub. He was very excited to tell me he bought something for the store. We've had this conversation one million times. HE IS NOT TO BUY ANYTHING FOR THE STORE. Not ever. But he insists it's very valuable and such a big surprise he wont' even tell me until I get back. I reminded him about the not buying rule and he said and I truly quote him here, "It's okay I used the counterfeit hundred dollar bill I took."
AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Okay, feeling better now. Must think of a way to explain why passing counterfeit money is immoral and illegal to a simpleton. (sorry simpletons)
What was it Bernie Mac said? There's one in every family and if you don't know who it is, it's you. Well, Weezer, it's you! He also said that the Febreeze seemed to be working well. Oh yeah, it's definitely you, dude.

See you in the funny papers....
Simon Wolfe
WDC

It was a one bed kind of night...

though we didn't do much sleeping... None of that either, you perverts! Gently liquored and looking for someone to talk to, Maricel just sort of unloaded about the past few years. I knew there'd been some rough stuff, but I guess I didn't quite see the enormity of it until she sobbed it all out at once. Just for a refresher course:
She was born in my hometown in Ohio, lived there until she was five. Her dad was a executive with LCO, a big multi-national company that probably made something in your line of vision right this minute. Family went back home to the Philipines. (Her mother's home. Her father was of Filipino heritage, but had been raised here) When she was thirteen, her dad just vanished. I guess guerilla groups kidnap business people all the time hoping to get ransom from families or companies. But no demand ever came for her father. The best guess was that the kidnappers had maybe accidentally killed him, so there was no point in the ransom deal. So she lived with her mother in a an apartment in Mainla and then grew up to become a teacher. Then about three years ago her mom got real sick and she spent most of her time caring for her and making her money selling stuff on the Internet. Then her mother started going downhill fast and at the same time, the guy she'd been dating for six years dumps her to marry a 19 year old. Her mom died and she's just been in a weird place ever since. She packed up their apartment and moved into a spare bedroom at her Aunt's palce. And she just doesn't know where she's going from here.

I guess I don't have a lot of problems. My parents are still here to annoy me and even though She-who-shall-not-be-named did a number on me, I guess I'm okay.

But Maricel cried for hours before she finally went to sleep. She's sleeping now and I'm trying to be quiet. I just really, really like her. Know what I mean?

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

Downstairs it's geek heaven and where am I?

I'm up in my room with a bottle of champagne re-watching Galactica with Maricel. The mating dance of the Dorkus Americanus with the Pacific Island variety of the species. Weezer texted that he had GRATE NEWZ. I turned off the phone. I can't imagine what the store smells like now. I've been invited to two dozen parties, but I just can't quite seem to get my ass off the bed and away from the pretty glowing pictures on the screen. Oh yeah, and from Maricel... It's been a while kids. Haven't really been out there since She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named ripped my heart out of my chest, took a bite, put it back in, pulled it out again and then set it one fire in front of me. I think I'm old now.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

And still more fanboy fun...

There was a Battlestar Galactica thing right after Platinum finished with us. Maricel is a HUGE fan since Season One has aired over there and I sent her season 2 on DVD. All I can say is WOW! I was so freaking excited I forgot about wondering which bed Maricel was going to sleep in that night. When I checked my phone later, Weezer had called me five times. The hell with calling him back. I've got insurance on the store and whatever he had to say would surely make me sick. Weird how you can't find high quality help for six bucks an hour with no benefits. I don't get it. At some point I keep expecting him to leave, so I can replace him with an aimable teenager, but I think he's settled on it as his career. Is it wrong to fire your own cousin? It is? Damn. Oh, and for God's sake check out my Fan-gasam photos, okay?

See you in the funny papers....
Number Six rules....
Simon Wolfe
Wolfe's Den Comics.

Platinum fed us, liquored us and then....

Proceeded with same old bull as ever, swearing they NEVER EVER give preferential treatment to the big dealers over the little guys. It's just a huge co-inky-dink that our shipments of in-demand stuff always seem to get lost. But they're going to try to do better. They had some AWESOME Catwoman busts designed just for their dealers visiting Comic-con that they handed out between dinner and dessert. Allegedly a limited edition of 300, but we all know THEY LIE! I think Maricel was actually drooling over it. Or maybe it was the food. The usual high end suspects, steak and seafood with some fru-frued potato dish and micro-greens (I thought they were like so over). I got an text message from my pal Ellen. She says my store smells like burnt popcorn and Lysol. Did I mention that Maricel is beautiful?

Oh yeah, there's this convention thing...

I'll be putting Comic-con pics and info up on the Wolfe's Den website in the usual place. Just click on Fan-gasams. Right now I'm headed down to the little reception thing my wholesaler Platinum Comics to appease, I mean entertain, their dealers. They've been getting a lot of flack. We'll see what happens. Hey, there's free booze and I got a date.
See you in the funny papers...
Simon Wolfe
Wolfe's Den Comics

MARICEL!!!!!

I was dragging my sorry behind through the airport, just hoping I could get some of the airplane funk off before meeting Maricel and somebody called out "Simon!" Since there's a freaking geek convention, there could be any number of people who might recognize me here, but when I turned around there she was. She was wearing the same stupid Superman fanboy T-Shirt as I was , only she was wearing it a whole lot better. She looked just like her picture, only she smelled good, too. She was a whole day late getting in, but she'd gotten stuck in Seattle overnight and gotten in a shower. I apologized for smelling like the floor of a bathroom in a bar.

She pulled on the tail of my T-shirt and said "We're the same." Yeah, I wear the tail out. I'm a tub. Oddly enough, her voice sounded exactly the same as it did on the phone. She's got this slight trace of an accent that you really can't peg. Her English is perfect, but since it's her first language and she teaches it as well, I guess it ought to be. Maybe she can help me with mine. From your many kind e-mails I know that my grammar leaves much to be desired.

Yeah, the Strip is something else and the hotel is wicked...
I'll get around to that.
Weezer left a a voice mail. He says he thinks he took a counterfeit hundred doll bill. But more importantly: One room, two beds and a hot girl taking a shower in the bathroom. I already took one. She brought me some sweet Manga in her suitcase. Yeah, I'm a dork. But the hot chick in my shower is okay with that.

I called Weezer and reminded him not to take hundred dollar bills and that we have a freaking pen that checks for fake bills. He said he started a small fire in the microwave. Jesus Christ.

So just how bad did my flight suck?

To quote Homer Simpson, "It was the suckiest suck that ever sucked!"
A hour late boarding in Detroit, so I missed my flight in Chicago and was stuck at the airport for a four hour layover waiting for my flight. Somehow, even though I've had a reservation for six months, I got bumped to standby. Some people find airports interesting. They literally make me sick. I have no stomach for the smell of fuel or the smell of others. Besides, I needed to save my money for Vegas and those stingy SOBS at Northwest didn't even want to hand out meal vouchers. Not that I was planning on eating. Still on the going-to-meet Maricel diet. God forbid she should see the real me. I've been sending her nothing but tight face shots, like that was somehow better than my butterball body. There was a screaming kid sitting right behind me all the way from Chicago to Vegas. I guess the adults with him were his parents, but you sure couldn't tell by their actions. Their approach to parenting was just to watch him scream and shake their heads in disbelief at their demon spawn. Then we hit a bad batch of turbulence and the little *#@! projectile vomited on the back on the seat. Only a little got in my hair. All I could think was that Marciel would be saying. "Not only is he fat, but he reeks of vomit." Also of alcohol because the jackass next to me spilled his drink on me. Again, poor Maricel. She'll think she came halfway around the world to meet an obese alcoholic who vomits on himself. When I called Weezer from Chicago he swore the Wolfe's Den was still standing and that the books had come in on time and been placed on the shelves. If you know otherwise, don't tell me.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon Wolfe
Wolfe's Den Comics

Off to Comic Con

Well guys and gals, I'm all packed and ready to go. Tomorrow I'll be in Las Vegas for Comic Con 2006! I'm hoping to see some of you there. But this year, as I've said before, I'm not on the sales floor. It's too much hassle to haul product all the way to Vegas from Toledo and after all the work I put in at the Chicago and Detroit Conventions, I'm ready to have just a little bit of fun. Weezer will be looking after the store (pray for me and all my possessions) To simplfy stuff for him, I've put out three tables of quarter boxes for you to look through. Buy them four at a time as not to confuse him. I've also posted a bunch of stuff to the Ebay store. But nothing will be shipped until I get back from Sin City.

I'm finally gettin' to meet Maricel in person! What, you think that meeting your on-line female friend from overseas in Vegas might not go well? Bah, I say to you. What could go wrong? Even if she turns out not to really be 26 and gorgeous, I'm okay. I'll settle for anything between 18 and 45 and I really don't care if she's fat as long as she doesn't need a scooter to get around. And please, no more nasty comments when I use the word "Fat", being a fatboy myself, I feel free to speak my mind.

I'll post from the convention. See you in the funny papers.

Simon Wolfe
Wolfe's Den Comics