Sorry I've been absent...

It's just been crazy busy. Tons of stuff to ship out from the Ebay store. If you ordered it, it should be on the way. A lot of great new stuff in at the store. Make sure check the website and I have finally caught up on a bunch of reading. No, Maricel did not leave me. School started and she's just been busy with her new teaching assistant position. They love her there and she likes it a lot. Lucky kids. I would have loved a teacher that looked like that. The only book I haven't read is my precious issue #38. It's not reported stolen anywhere that Ellen can find, but I'm still not so sure it's mine yet. Brian is not doing well. But they say he's actually starting to improve. I can't see it. But I am ready to discuss comics with all comers...

See you in the funny papers...

Simon

I was attempting to enjoy a late dinner...

with my beloved. SWSNBN showed up all nice and surly with cash in hand. She had the fiance with her and boy, did he look uncomfortable.
"I'll pay for the damn door." She said. "Write me a receipt. I brought cash, I figured you wouldn't take a check."
I shrugged.
She counted it out in an exaggerated fashion. Maricel looked as if she was on the verge of laughing hysterically.
"Fair enough." I found a receipt pad and wrote her out one marked paid in full. Then I pulled box with the earrings out of a drawer and tossed it to her. "Found something."
She opened them and let out a genuine sigh of relief. "I told you they were here."
"You didn't put them up in the basement ceiling, did you?" I asked. "Cause that's where they were."
"I thought I put them in that freaky little cubby in the bathroom." She said. "Or in the back of the linen closet."
"No valuable comic books with them?" I said.
"Huh?" SWSNBN said.
"Never mind. "Have a nice wedding, skip the B & E, 'kay?"
"Screw you." She said.
"You're welcome." I said.
She frowned. "Thanks for finding them. I guess you were looking for them."
Krypto darted out from wherever she was lounging and decided to climb up SWSNBN's pants. SWSNBN doesn't like cats. They scare her. Her fiance was more comfortable with animals, he actually picked up Krypto and said. "Cute. Hon, it's a kitten."
SWSNBN was not amused. She did inquire after Brian, though. I guess that was nice of her.

I tried to talk to Weezer...

But he's way freaking out of it. I just wanted some kind of confirmation that he was the one who put the the book in the ceiling. But I couldn't even get a blink. I'm really worried about him. Breathing is kind of important. I feel like I never really took the asthma seriously. Of course, the asthma isn't all of it. He's screwed around with his body eighteen ways to Sunday (as Grandpa likes to say) His heart is messed up and I know his brain is scrambled. I've been watching him get progressively dumber for years and it hasn't been pretty. We all know what's wrong with, we always have, but nobody's ever been able to figure out what to do about it. I feel very tired...

I didn't open it...

It's not mine or at least I don't think it is. I don't like people in my stuff, so I probably shouldn't get in anybody else's. Suck! Ellen's going to check to find out if the book has been reported missing anywhere. I looked around on-line and didn't see any mention of it. If there had been, I would remember. But if something of mine worth that much money went missing, I don't know as if I'd want that getting around. You could get some ransom demands. Yeah, that book is that rare and that valuable. So I think I'll just trot on over to the bank and put it in my safe deposit box before I open up the store. So if you're looking for it, don't bother.

Yes, I know it can cost a whole lot of money to

grade a valuable book. But to some of us, it might be worth it to read it. The train for dorktown is leaving... Woo! Woo! get on board...

I called Ellen in the morning...

And I think perhaps that Maricel thinks we see a wee bit too much of Ellen around here. Nothing she said, not anything she did. Just a flicker in the eyes. I probably should have kept my mouth shut about sleeping with her, huh? I showed Ellen the wondrous book and she drooled.
"What do I do?" I asked.
"Nothing." Ellen said. "I can check to see if it's been reported stolen, but if it hasn't; possession really is nine tenths of the law. It was on your property. When Weezer can talk maybe he can answer some of our questions. Are you going to read it?"
"It's sealed." I said.
"Well all opening would do is mean it has to be graded again. It doesn't really destroy the value, right?"
No, it doesn't." I said.
So I guess I get to read it.

We put it on the table and stared at it for a long time...

Too bad it's sealed up in high grade mylar, cause I can't read it. Then I put it in the safe where I keep the days meager receipts. I don't know where this came from If this is what Weezer bought for a hundred bucks, it has to be stolen. Somebody might not know an old book lying around the house is valuable, but this book had been professionally graded. Somebody knew. Now I have to figure out what to do.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

Say what?

I have one of these. I have #38. If the grading is authentic, it's worth more about as much as my house. I don't know how it got into my ceiling or if Weezer bought this with a fake hundred dollar bill. If he did, no wonder someone wants to kill him. But where the hell did he get the earrings? Did SWSNBN have the book? I'm very confused. I think I want another martini.

The ceiling was scary... Love me dammit!

I wish that I was cute enough to get away with crawling in the ceiling...
Hail Krypto, brilliant earring hunter! Time for a some kitty treats and to consult the Overstreet guide. SWSNBN will get the earrings when I get paid for my door. Sounds fair enough to me, don't you think?

Guess what fell out of my ceiling...

If you said a small jewelry box, you'd be correct. But go ahead guess what else fell out of the ceiling? A comic book. A bagged, boarded and graded comic book. Yep, I do have SWSNBN's earrings. Go figure. In my ceiling. WTF? Somehow I suspect Weezer...

We decided to do some laundry around eleven...

I have a nice washer and dryer. My old ones both died at the same time last year and I got some dang pretty floor models with slight scratching at deep discount. My basement ain't bad for being in an old business. I had ample time after the break up to drylock my basement, put in some new vinyl tile and build shelves. Weezer and I tried to put in the drop ceiling, then I gave the hell up and had a professional finish it. Krypto rode down in the laundry basket, highly amused at everything. I hope she likes the basement, cause that's where the litterbox is going as soon as she's big enough to handle the stairs. I have some cool stuff stored down there and after we put in the first load, I showed Maricel some of my action figures. That's not a metaphor for anything, okay? Then we heard Krypto mewing. We didn't see her. It got louder and more plaintive and then I heard scratching sounds above my head. She was up in my ceiling. CRAP! There was a tile slightly askew and it looked as if she'd climbed up on one of my shelves and made her way into the forbidden land of ceiling. I got a flashlight and a ladder and pushed the tile away. Something fell out, that was not a cat. Krypto was literally screaming by then. I shined the light into the darkness and called her. She wailed some more. I didn't want to tear out the ceiling, so I sent Maricel up for some meat. It only took half an hour to rescue our baby. Whereupon we punished her for her bad behavior by showering her with love. That'll learn her. Oh, by the way...

It's profoundly humbling...

When someone you respect (or adore) says the kinds of things to you that you've always thought you wanted to hear. Especially if they seem sincere. Dear God, I really love that girl. The idea of her getting hurt makes me sick to my stomach. It also makes me want to take the darn shotgun and go hunting for a fat, pale dude with braids. If you are that dude, watch you ample backside, bud. It could easily be full of bird shot. Just saying...

Oh yeah, the kitten is fine...

Thank you for your concern...

At least the blood came up...

I highly recommend the Armstrong commercial floor tiles. I shut up shop early and took Maricel out for dinner. She seemed fine, I was still a little freaked out. I'm still a little freaked out. Then we came home, Ellen stopped by to see if we were okay, which we were. I made some more martinis. By the way, a couple of martini-infused evenings does not mean I'm an alcoholic. Thanks for the kind referrals to AA, though. We went to bed at seven, though not to sleep. Wink, Wink nudge nudge, you know what I mean? I feel better now.

I missed the excitement again...

When I got home, the police were there talking to Maricel. When our fat white dude with dreds was done harassing my nearly comatose cousin, he came back here looking for something. Maricel said he came into the store yelling and screaming about something that made not a lick of sense to her. Then he grabbed her by the shirt, called her a bitch and said that he wanted it back. He did not elaborate on what "it" was. He smelled like liquor, just like they said he did at the hospital. So she grabbed the boxcutter under the counter and stuck him in the hand with it. Four times, as hard as she could. Hence the blood all over the floor of my store. Good thing I went with the linoleum over carpet. I did not feel as flip as I sound here. At the time my hands were shaking. After the police left, I hugged Maricel so hard she couldn't breathe.
"He's lucky I didn't go for the shotgun." She said referring to the sawed-off shotgun I kept under the counter. If the police saw it, they didn't say anything about the present my grandpa gave me when I opened the store. He didn't want me to be one of those comic store owners murdered for twenty bucks.
"Christ, what the hell has Weezer done?" I wondered.
"He wouldn't say what it was he wanted." Maricel said. "He was just drunk and mad."
"Your aunt was right, you aren't safe here." I said.

Sister and I missed the excitement...

We got to the hospital to find out that someone had tried to rough up Brian in his hospital bed. From my panicked Aunt's description, it sounds like the dude who came looking for him in the store. He actually grabbed him and shook him. That precipitated another severe asthma attack, so he's back on oxygen and again looking like death warmed over. It's not unusual for people to rough up Weezer over money, but in his hospital bed seems a bit extreme. Sister said she'd stay with our aunt for awhile. I looked at Brian and felt sad for him, then I went back to the store. Krypto was perched on a bust of Catwoman looking out the front window. That made me smile.

We enjoy blogging together....

Actually, she likes the aquarium screen saver and I'm a dork with a digital camera and a kitten. Bear with me, I haven't had a pet in years. And I ain't putting pictures of my new girlfriend on the web, despite numerous requests you pervert.

I woke up with kitten paws in my mouth...

Krypto seems to really, really like me. And it seems my neck is cozy. I took it to the vet and it was declared a she, given shots and put on a weight-gain diet. Then back to open the store. Then Maricel got a call from the temp agency about a job subbing as a teaching assistant for a week. It's at the school for the arts, which I think would be easier than the school for autistic kids, but I could be wrong. She had to head out for some kind of orientation. While Krypto and I were enjoying a sandwich for lunch, my sister came in.
"Mom says I need to apologize." She said.
"No need." I said. "There's no reason we should ever speak again."
"That could be awkward. Cute kitten."
"What do want, Sister?" I really do call her Sister, I have for years and she hates it when I use her name on-line.
"Where's your friend?"
"Talking to someone about a teaching job." I said.
"She was pretty offended." Sister said.
"She was exponentially offended."
"Uh, I guess I misunderstood the situation." Sister said.
"Yes, I actually can get a woman without having to order her from a catalog. Although, from what I understand it's illegal to advertise chicks in the Philippines, so the dudes put themselves in a catalog and the ladies give 'em a call."
"It's just that you've been so lonely since..."
"Actually not that lonely for awhile. I've just been on-line late at night talking to Maricel."
"You know she's gettig married, right?" Sister said.
"Yeah, she broke into my back door to look for some earrings that go with her dress."
"Oh." Sister said and furrowed her brow. She knew more than she was saying.
Maricel got back while Sister and I were talking.
"I'm gonna go see Brian." Sister said.
"Go with her if you want." Maricel said. "I'll watch the store."
"How was your orientation?" I asked.
"Not much to it." She said.
"I'm all apologetic and stuff." Sister said.
"Good for you." Maricel said and she picked up Krypto and began to cuddle her while ignoring Sister. Gotta love a multi-tasker.

So now I have a cat...

And she is an adorable little monster. I know eventually it'll grow into a cat. I put up a couple of signs, so If you lost an adorable kitten with a strange little tail twitch who is both malnourished and flea-bitten, here she be. Right now she is climbing up by back, so she can watch me use the computer. I seem to have gone quite domestic these days.

The afternoon was slow...

We had a crazy thunderstorm. It was coming down in buckets with lightning flashing and thunder booming. Maricel and I just hung around the store and read. I caught up on some books. Pretty interesting stuff happening gang. Maricel went up to fix dinner around the time the rain let up. We had brief rush at the store, then I got to eat me some dinner. She can grill her some chicken that girl of mine. I called for a report on Weezer and they said he was doing much better, but he was sleeping now I skipped the hospital visit and Maricel and I went for a walk. The storm hit the trees hard around our neighborhood, there were bits and pieces of limbs everywhere. We went for a walk in the park, as Maricel keeps forcing me into activity. We were standing overlooking the river while I expounded on the history of the park and Maumee River Yacht Club. Then it happened. A teeny wet ball of fur darted out of a bush and climbed up Maricel's leg.
"Mew!" It said as it desperately clung to her.
It was a scrawny, wet, teeny baby kitty. Crap. What are you gonna do?
Maricel wants to call her Krypto.

SWSNBN called me...

Against her attorney's advice, she added.
"I'm not paying to fix your damn door twice! I only busted it once. It was a crappy old door anyway, you'd have had to get one anyway sooner or late! Why should I pay for something I didn't even do?"
"Price of crime." I said. "Pay for all of it or go to court."
"My lawyer will..." she began.
"Charge you a freaking fortune." I said. "Pay for my damn door. I don't care if you broke it once or twice. You'll pay for it."
"You're a jackass." She said as if that was harsh after all the other crap she'd said about me yesterday.
"Yep." I said. "Pay for my door."

"If you were my sister..."

I told Maricel over a delightful tuna salad that I'd put together. "I'd come get you and drag you home."
"If you were my brother." She said. "I'd be absolutely sure that little foreign chick was out to rip you off."
I'd put together one of what I consider my specialties: tuna salad that you scoop up with Fritos Scoops. Maricel said it tasted good.
"I've no plans to dump you in a lake." I said thinking about a case I'd seen on Cold Case or American Justice.
"I've no plans to kill you yet." She said.

There were probably five guys in the store when I got home.

And bless her heart, Maricel was selling them stuff. She's knowledgeable enough to talk about product and smart enough to admit when she's not familiar with something in order to give the customers the pleasure of explaining it to her. SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS in sales. On a weekday morning. WHAT THE HELL? She doesn't need to get a job. She's plenty profitable as store decor. Maybe I need to get another job and just let her run the store. Then she offered to make me lunch. I made her lunch. I didn't want her leaving the store.

On my way out...

I literally ran into a pretty dark-haired woman with a stack of files. As I was helping her pick it up I realized I knew her from somewhere, but I couldn't think where.
"I know you, don't I?" I asked.
"Yeah, I think so." She said and she looked me up and down.
"I've never been indicted, if that helps." I said. "I have a comic store."
"You're Simon." She said after a second or two.
"I'm still lost." I said.
"I'm Maria. I'm Juanita Morales daughter."
Juanita Morales is the Juanita who's been helping Danny out for a decade or so.
"I haven't seen you in a long time." I said. "Nice suit."
"I'm an assistant prosecutor." She said.
"I'm stil just the guy with the comic books." I said.
"How's Danny?" She asked.
"I really hadn't talked to him for a couple of months." I said.
"Oh." She said. "Mom worries about him. She thinks he might be mad at her for leaving him."
"I didn't know she was gone." I said.
"She didn't really leave." Maria explained. "Dad and her retired to San Antonio."
"Oh." I said.
"You know she really needed the break. She feels bad, though. She really loves Danny."
"I know." I said.
"She said he e-mailed a few times, but it just didn't seem friendly."
"I guess he's in Florida right now." I said.
"Yeah, Mom said that." Maria said. "But, you know. He could send her a little note or something. I hate to sound selfish, but he took up a lot of her time for a lot of years and she went way beyond what she was getting paid for."
"I know. She's really like a second mom to him."
"Well, you should call your mother, you know? Even if you're a little mad because she moved."

I went down to the prosecutor's office...

And got to talk with the poor woman who was supposed to be handing my complaint against SWSNBN.
"She hasn't lived there for two years." I said. "She's got no business breaking in."
"She says you stole her earrings." Assistant Prosecutor Donna Krieger read from a file.
"She decided two years after she moved out that she must have left them behind and that I somehow know where they are. She's done almost three hundred dollars worth of damage trying to get into my house. She broke in twice. It's ridiculous. I'm not interested in dragging this thing out forever. If she'll pay me for the damage, I guess I could let it go. And she has to stay the heck away from my home and my place of business. Coveniently, they're the same place."
"Do you have her earrings?" Ms. Krieger asked.
"No, I don't." I said. "Criminently."
"Criminently?" She laughed.
"I didn't think you were supposed to drop the F bomb around here." I said.
"It's more commonly used than the word and." She said.
"She tries to get in again and I want her shot." I said.

For some strange reason...

Maricel's aunt seems to think that there's something odd about deciding to move in with some dude from a foreign land that you met on the Internet. Even after you've gone to the trouble of spending a couple of days with him in Las Vegas. I don't get it. Sounds like a plan to me. Poor woman, I totally understand why she's calling here at 6 a.m. our time and yelling so loud that I could hear every word of it. Apparently Maricel's cousin has spilled the beans. I'm sure the news seriously ruined dinner. She pointed out to Maricel that girls who move to America to take up with strange men often end up dead or in dire circumstances. Although all of the cases she seemed to be citing were mail-order brides. I guess I could have brought up that more than one guy has ended up dead at the hands of some girl he's imported. But that would mean that Maricel and I are both idiots. Wisely, Maricel did not argue much. She let her Aunt yell until she was hoarse and then politely told her that she appreciated the concern. Then she told her that she was substitute teaching and thinking about furthering her education. She pointed out that I was not some creepy old man hoping to find an Asian sex slave, but a rather harmless comic book dealer who was completely under thumb. (AM NOT!)
While she was on the phone, I went down to the bakery and picked up some doughnuts. When I got back, Maricel had gotten off the phone and put on some coffee.
"She has a point." I said.
"She's absolutely right." Maricel said. "But she's wrong, too."

I think I jumped ten feet when Maricel...

touched me on the shoulder. "What's up?" She asked as she sat down beside me on the couch.
"I think I'm brooding." I said.
"Can I brood with you?" She asked.
"I was going to stop it." I said.
"All right." Maricel said. "What would you like to do instead?"
"Don't you have to get up early to aid autistic children?" I asked.
"Not unless Mrs. Shriver's poodle has taken a turn for the worse. She was taking the day off for his surgery."
"Let's pray he pulls through."
"Oh, I am." Maricel said.
"When Danny gets back, I think I owe him a field trip." I said.
"I can't wait to meet him." She said.
"He's really a fun guy." I said. "Could be awhile, I have to make sure Brian's up to running the store. At least physically. I'll lock up the sharp objects and unplug the microwave."
She laughed.
"I've often wondered." I said. "What Danny thinks about Brian prancing around abusing his perfectly good body. The lungs are a little iffy, but the rest of it works or it used to. Danny's smart. He's really smart. And somebody has to get him get a glass of water."
"Life is often not fair." She said.
Then she gave me a back rub.
"Sometimes we get a lot more than we deserve." I said.

I always knew Weezer would end up in the hospital...

I was up ruminating in a post-martini funk. So I pulled out some photo albums. I always knew he's hurt himself or get in an accident. That's why I've been compelled to watch him since I was five. Danny was a shock to the system. He always did the right thing. But not so right that he annoyed people. Seeing him with his body broken made a fundamental change in me. I don't know if you'd call it growing up, but the fragility of the human body never hit home to me until them. It was apparent now. Weezer being done in by the air sacs in his lungs (as well as his refusal to treat his asthma with respect) and Danny freaking trapped in a chair by the chance of being injured in a particular place on his spin. He'd handled it well (as well as can be expected)
And when they finally outfitted him with his super-dooper deluxe wheelchair, there had been no stopping him. I pitied his poor caretaker hanging in the store as we talked comics. He sent her home, but she was afraid to leave. I promised I'd look after him.
"You sure you can handle it?" She asked with a gentle warning in her voice.
I jerked my head towards Weezer who was having difficulty figuring out the complexities of a large sandwich at the time. "I look after him."
"Fine." She said.
Then I pulled out an album I should have burned. I am none of the things SWSNBN says I am. I am ambitious. My ambitions are just not her ambitions. I want this store and it's sister the on-line store. I want to go to comic conventions and talk to other dorks about Wolverine's origins. And I've found a way to make money at it. Decent money in a business it's not easy to make decent money in. Do doctors make more money? Hell yeah and they should. I can't save you if your lungs decide to close up.

Speaking of old pictures: Here's one of the corner by my store back when the 4-lane road was a part of the Miami and Erie Canal. Kudos to the Toledo Library for the picture collection. I'm all about the Miami Erie Canal. I think I'll take Maricel out to look at the old locks in the metro parks over the weekend. It's picnic time! With an authentic historical experience! (Hold the cholera)

There's a cute girl sleeping in my bed. Guess I'll join her.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

I told Maricel everything SWSNBN had to say about me...

She said the description was 98 percent wrong. Though she would not tell me what the 2 percent that was correct might be. But she said the sex more and made up for it.
"You're drunk." I said.
"You made me three martinis." She said.
I somehow pulled what I believe to be an ancient Dorothy Parker quote. "I love a martini, two at the most. Three I'm under the table, four I'm under the host."
She held up her glass. "Hit me."

Maricel says she's no expert...

but that in her opinion, one kid in the class is likely autistic. The rest of them need to be slapped. But again, she's no expert. And I didn't say it. So nobody get mad at me.
"Actually probably the parents." She said. "The parents need to be slapped."
"You're just slapping all kinds of people." I said.
"Bring your girlfriend back here." Maricel said after she took a sip from her martini.
"You're my girlfriend." I said
"I'm alledging that you're my fiance now." She said.
"That's it, label me." I said. "They all want to label me."
"Start on that next batch of drinks while you're at it." She said.

I went to see Weezer...

And he was looking so much better. He was off the ventilator, though still on oxygen. He opened his eyes and seemed pretty happy to see me. I told him the fascinating narrative of SWSNBN earring hunt. After about twenty minutes he mouthed what I took to be "present."
"I've got presents for you." I said.
He blinked and said. "Yours."
"You have a present for me?" I asked. "Cool."
"Find." He said.
"Shh" I said. "Not so much talking. I didn't find it yet. But I suck at finding stuff, don't I."
He smiled a little and drifted back to sleep.

Maricel looked like I felt...

"Bad day?" I asked.
"I need a nap." She said.
"Get on with your bad self then." I said.
"Do you want a break?" She offered.
"Nap." I said.
A couple of hours later she came down to let me know she was starting dinner.
"You wanna go out?" I offered.
She said cooking helped her unwind and that it was a mess upstairs. I briefly outlined some of this morning's events. I do not think she was pleased that SWSNBN was mucking around in her apartment. I was bound to raise her ire sooner or later.
She made shrimp for dinner, so I don't think she was too irked with me.
We traded bad day stories. For actual physical stress a room full of autistic fifth graders won hands down. But I think I won on the emotional pain level. There was no prize however.

I felt like absolute crap for the rest of the day...

Not sure why. There's not a doubt in my mind that I am in a much better place than I was when I lived with SWSNBN. But you're in a much better place after having a tumor cut out, odds are you still feel like hell. I guess I'd thought the wound had healed up better than it actually had. Probably not too good an idea to pick at the stitches. It's likely a combination of things that put me in my funk. Weezer on a ventilator, thinking about Danny's crash... Oddly, I don't think moving in the new girl has much to do with it. Sometimes it's hard to believe Maricel and SWSNBN are the same species. Maybe Maricel has mutant girlfriend powers. I dunno. I finally got a reply from Danny. A short one and franky I was expecting more interest with the combination of Comic-con and a hot new girlfriend. Maybe he's mad at me, I have been a fair-weather friend lately. He made some truly generic chit-chat about Florida, but he did make reference to a funny sunburn incident from our youth in the last sentence, so maybe he was softening towards me. I told him to make sure they rubbed in the sunscreen. Then a customer came in and looked around kind of hopefully. I think he was looking for Maricel. Seeing that there wasn't a pretty girl in sight, he bought a comic book and left. Cheapskate. Just kidding, I love every last one of you no matter how much you spend. Oh, a bunch of new stuff in the Ebay store today! So get to buying!
See you in the funny paper...
Simon

I used to love the stupid heifer...

So I was really nice and let her look around for her precious earrings. Even though she seemed to think that I should have just been grateful for the experience of knowing her and not asked any questions upon being discarded. But the fact that she felt that way gives me moral superiority. And I enjoy that. She has no idea where her damn earrings are. Only that she's misplaced them and for some reason her crooked little mind decided they were here. They aren't. I opened and went through more drawers than I should have and even let her look through the plastic tubs that hold my Christmas decorations. She stopped to look at the wall of Maricel, which the closet door on which I taped some pictures that she e-mailed me of herself. One is her in front of her doll collection and SWSNBN noticed that.
"She's got a lot of dolls." She remarked.
"She builds them like models." I said.
"Really?" SWSNBN said.
About twenty minutes into the fruitless search, she turned to me with tears in her eyes and demanded. "Where are they?"
She used to do that a lot. "Why won't this work? Why did it have to rain?" As if there was something I could do about it.
"I don't know." I said.
"Are you torturing me?" She sobbed.
"No, you're torturing me." I said. "I don't know where they are."
"They have to be here." She insisted.
"Where?" I asked.
"I don't know!" She stamped her foot on the floor like a child.
"Neither do I." I said. "But I let you look."
"Well I told you why I left." She said wiping her eyes.
"You could have just said bye." I said.
"You'd have cried like a baby." She said. "And I wouldn't have been able to leave."
"I think I might have been a little relieved. I found living with you to be somewhat stifling."
"Living with ME was stifling?" Her wet eyes grew wide with surprise.
"And I guess I thought that's just what living with someone was like. You got a daily critique and what you wanted to do or eat or watch really didn't matter anymore. But I think that may have been just you trying to fix me. And I'm not really broken."
"Oh, you're just wonderful." She said sarcastically.
"Why do you care?" I asked. "You've found Mr. Right."
"I wasted a lot of time on you." She said.
"I wasted a lot of time this morning." I said. "And I'm finished."

Well, apparently I suck...

BIGTIME. There's so much wrong with me that it's hard to even just hit the highlights in twenty minutes when you're pouring it out at the speed of sound. It's nothing a guy could work on either. I suffer from deeply ingrained character flaws, perhaps even more than one personality disorder. I'm unambitious (me, small buisness owner by twenty-five!) I'm uncaring (Me, Mr. never-forgets-a-birthday) Basically FAT, LAZY, MEAN, FAT, DORKY, FAT, CHILDISH, FAT, STUPID, FAT, GOOFY and did I mention that I'm FAT. I'm five ten and weight two hundred and twenty pounds. I'm a fatboy, but I'm not that fat. Anyway, being that I'm fat and fatally flawed, she had no choice but to take up with some other guy she met at the gym. She had never realized just how much I sucked until she met someone so marvelous. Then it occurred to her that she just deserved better. Well, good for her! And telling me about it would have been a hassle. So it was just easier to make a clean break while I wasn't there. Perfectly understandable. Goodness, I couldn't wait to help her find just the right earring to wear to her wedding to the guy she dumped me for!

Maricel got an early a.m. call to substitute...

That must be one thorough background check. Not! They needed her to come in at a school specializing in kids with autism. I didn't know school had even started back yet, but this place obviously has. She didn't seem daunted by the task of taking on a new challenge. So I made her a hearty breakfast with plenty of protein, packed her a tasty lunch and insisted on driving her to work. She can bus back if she insists upon it, though I got no problem locking up the shop for forty minutes in the afternoon. I can do that. I'm the boss. I doubt I'll miss a million dollar sale. So I get back with some time before the store opens and who do I spot lingering outside? Oh, you know. SWSNBN, of course. I should have called the police again, but I did not. I unlocked the door and let her blondeful bitchiness in.
"What!" I said. "What do you want from me?'
"My earrings. I just want my earrings."
"I have no idea in this world where they are." I said.
"Let me look for them." She said.
"You can't toss my house." I said. "Didn't the police explain that to you?"
"That's so ridiculous." She said. "I used to live here."
"Well, we used to live together. Can I toss your house?"
"So you'll just punish me until the end of time for having the nerve to leave you? It's the ultimate crime."
"See I have the idea that you're punishing me for something. And I have no clue what that might be."
She snorted in absolute disgust. Her nose wrinkled up. She hated the sight, sound and smell of me. Though I should have smelled okay. I showered, washed my hair and used deodorant and a splash of aftershave that morning. "So you want to ruin my wedding?"
"No, I don't care about your wedding or another." I said. "I wouldn't go out of my way to mess it up for you. Why would I want this hassle, *****?"
"You hate me for leaving you and ruining your life." She said.
"My life is fine." I said. "I was pretty... stunned when you dumped me. But I think I've moved on pretty well. My new girlfriend likes me."
"Yeah, you have a new girlfriend." She said. "Babe, some girls will do anything for a green card."
"Well, now I really want to help you find your earrings." I said.
"Let me look for them." She pleaded. "You can supervise."
"Tell me why you left me." I said. "Why you up and split without so much as a kiss my ass, fat boy."
"You don't want to know." She said.
"Yeah, I really do." I said. "You tell me and I'll give you an hour to look for your earrings."

You may note...

That Alan Moore, whom Maricel suspects of being part of the red menace wrote it. But enough with my geekdom.

see you in the funny papers...
Simon

Other Gotham Girls to note:

Poison Ivy: as we all know scientists are the first to lose their grips and turn into super villians. Just a hint to the scientists of the world: AVOID PETER PARKER.

Catwoman: I think I may be dating her.

Batgirl: Also known as Oracle. Barbara Gordon is one of my favorite characters. To have someone become paralyzed and keep it that way is honest and a little bit brave.

By the way, if you get the chance read The Killing Joke. But not if you need to sleep that night.

If I were an evil lying cow where would I put my earrings?

I considered this question while enjoying a Batman: The Animnated Series DVD with Maricel. In my opinion, none of the live action movies has been as exciting, well-done and sexy as the cartoon. That Harley Quinn is one hot mama. Though, like a lot of other hot mamas I've known, she likes her some bad boy. I cannot tell you how many girls have told me I'm too nice. You know what, I'm not that nice. Just ask SWSNBN. I think. Maybe she left because I'm too nice. Or because I'm a nice/not nice fence straddler. I dunno. Something to ponder, I reckon.

Ellen jogged by us as we sat there...

eating ice cream and probing my memories. She asked after Brian and I gave her the latest news. Told her we had dinner with the folks and she laughed. "How's that sister of yours?"
Maricel laughed, too. "Fine, she thinks I'm a mail-order prostitute."
"I'll bet she'll have a candlelight vigil for you." Ellen said. "She-who-you-don't-say-the-name-of is pretty ticked at you."
I didn't bother to correct her. "What else is new?"
"Says she's gonna sue you." Ellen grinned.
"For preventing a breaking and entering?" I suggested.
"For stealing her granny's earrings." She said.
"I thought I was the one who took them." Maricel said.
"I'd be patting down Brian if it was me." Ellen said.
"Yeah, sue him." I said. "You'll get a huge percentage of less than nothing."
"You don't have her damn earrings tucked away somewhere, do you?" Ellen asked.
"I don't steal frickin' earrings." I said. "Just souls, Ellie Mae."
"Is there some place she might have put them?" She suggested.
"Screw her." I said. "Let her get married without them at her fabulous destination wedding."
"It would be an easy way to shut her up and get her off your back." Ellen said. "Cause she's nuts, Hon. You never seemed to see it, but she's nuts."
"Am I nuts?" Maricel asked.
"Well, you're living with him." Ellen said.

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.

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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.