Phoenix Comicon!
Rabies shots hurt. Somebody write it down.
It's actually not that bad-- the first dose is the worst just because of the sheer quantity of shit they have to jam into your body with a syringe. The doctor kept having to move to different parts of my body to pump in more of this crap. So now my ass and both shoulders are sore and lumpy with immuno-goblins***. The next four doses aren't that bad-- a single small injection apiece. At least that's what they
say; watch, it'll be a giant 40cc syringe directly into my eyeball or something.
The
Phoenix Comicon is this weekend and
Stacey and I are sharing an artist's table to sell sock zombies and
amazing puppets. It's going to be three-and-a-half days of killer times and if you live in the area you should definitely come out with your brightest pink wig and your tallest paper mache hammer and say hi.
Mia and
Ryan are driving out for it and they're staying here! With me! Of course they didn't know I had rabies when they accepted the invite so it's possible they're second-guessing, I don't know. It's cool, guys, if I get out of line Randy will just strap me into my
cone.
My Etsy shop is going to be closed through the Con and possibly beyond, depending on sales; if I do as well as I hope I won't have any inventory for a while. So if you've been meaning to welcome a
Sock Zombie into your life, now might be the time.
***immunoglobulin
I'm an idiot.
Randy and I were walking along the shore in Belize last Tuesday evening, arm in arm or hand in hand or tongue in cheek, whatever it is people do, enjoying each other and our last perfect night in such a magical place. When I, overwhelmed with perfect and magic, I guess, decided to share my bounty with the indigenous canine community by spontaneously scratching the ears of a passing stray dog.
Who reciprocated by biting me on the ass.
Hard.
If anyone was wondering how the Department of Public Safety responds to the news that someone's been bitten by a stray, untagged dog in a third-world Central American country? They respond
quickly, is how. I'm scheduled to receive the first of five rabies shots tomorrow morning.
Some people just bring home postcards and shotglasses and caps and shit. Pussies. I'm going to need official rabies tags and a t-shirt with a glass of water and a line drawn through it STAT because I'm going to milk this for all it's worth.
A month or so ago I got an email from Randy: he'd somehow found online airfare to Belize for around $60 a person, round trip.
"
I'm scared to refresh the page," he wrote.
"
BOOK IT," I wrote back.
So he did. And that's why we're in Belize right now.
Ambergris Caye, specifically. We've been here before; it was the first trip he and I ever took together, and then we came again with the kids a few years later. It's unbelievable, as close to paradise as any place I've ever seen.
We hadn't planned on taking an international vacation two months before our wedding, but the price insisted we justify an early honeymoon. Which is sensible, really-- now I'll know what to do on our wedding night.
"So why are you on the fucking internet?" you're probably thinking. No shit, right? I'll tell you why: because I sat in urgent care for three hours on Monday with my bi-annual raging kidney infection and I'm still a little ouchy. I'll tell you this, though, I can't think of a single better place to convalesce.
