Saturday, March 28, 2015

The Long Con



Team Manticore attended the Central PA Comic Con two weeks ago, and then we went to another convention this past weekend.  

The first went really well.  We made connections, sold some stuff...  



The second one was just a series of mini-terrors wrapped in terrible luck.

There was blood.


Confused cat.

So, let me start by going back to that first con.  

Like I said, we were pretty successful, and we even sold the last of the Shuffle comics! 



This was super exciting to me, because I had the chance to sign some stuff and feel like... I drew that thing that I drew.

There were a lot of awesome costumes, and it was great to see such diversity.  

Also, like eighty Black Widows.  

That is NOT a complaint.  



I made some cats while we were sitting there, because they were selling faster than I thought they would.  

...Some came out a little wrong.


So, now we know what it looks like when a large head is put on a small body...


Like a UFO cat. 



Oops.  

In any case, people were pretty happy about the up-cycled comics and "dead records", because we're making things that are otherwise going to be thrown out into something new.  

Here's another shot of the tiny kitties: 

We also sold a surprising number of teeth, and got some neat suggestions for Walking Dead inspired jewelry.  




Good times.  Good times.

The head-crab, sadly, did not find a new home that day.



Go home, Head-Crab.  You're drunk. 



The second con...  

You know what?  




Here: 



Before even setting foot instead the building, I set knee inside of asphalt.  

See, it was the second day of Spring, so I slipped on some ice, because New York. 



It hurt like a bitch, but once I could stand at all, I realized that nothing was broken.

That was enough for me.

And honestly, I was more concerned about my hand than anything else.

So, I'm limping along...  

Kinda walking bow-legged...

And I feel this cold trickling down my leg.

I figure, "It can't be blood.  That would be warm."  

The other problem was that I was wearing these pants:
(Post fall, hence the hole and caked-on dirt)

So I couldn't actually tell the real blood from the fake blood, because why would there be real blood when all I did was fall down wHAT??? SHUT UP I'M FINE.

At this point, I became a giant baby. 

Rob ran around for first-aid stuff...

Thankfully, a week later, THIS works just fine:
  
I was FAR more concerned with cleaning off the extra blood, than actually tending to the wound itself. 

It was pretty bad.  Approximately this:

A week later, it looks more like this:

The fact is that while kids will skin their knees, that's really just a scrape.  
I actually, literally, SKINNED my fucking knee.  SKINNED IT.  
TOOK THE SKIN OFF OF A CHUNK OF MYSELF LIKE MY KNEE WAS SOMETHING OUT OF HELLRAISER.

...and it hurt.

...and Rob got really frustrated by the fact that I was semi-in shock and just would not stop talking about my knee.

Putting up with each other is half of love.

Going to work, I refused to bring my cane.  
I have one.  
My father gave it to me.
It has served me well.


I don't know why I decided that I didn't need it... Cause... I did.

So, fine.  
We didn't really sell anything, due to the timing of the con.

We got REALLY bored.  

I made a bunny out of stuffing.  

Dusty the dust bunny. 

Here is Rob's creation photobombing. 

Dusty's butt.

We are classy folks.

OH! 

I got to have another injury before we left!

Yaaaaaaaay...

See, the needle broke.



BROKE in half. 

Yep.  

Fine.

The end.


Sunday, March 8, 2015

Worker in Training



Hahaha HA haaaah...  So, I actually wrote this post on January 26th, but then EVERYTHING came up.  

By the way, I'll be at the Central PA Comic Con Marth 14th and 15th as part of Team Manticore! 

And then A-Lot-A-Con in Oneonta the weekend after.  

Oh my crap. 

SO.

I got a job in January, and there was a good chunk of just training forever before work could actually begin.  
Then, I kind of hated what I was doing to the point of crying a lot after work.  
THEN I got moved to a different area where I have the same job title, but I'm doing something much better. 

I'm not going to get into the details of all that.  
THIS entry shall be about the training, as briefly as I can, based on my notes about the process.  
I'll also include the doodles that happened, as unrelated as most of them are to the text.  

Ready?? 

BEGIN. 

******************************************
Day One:
NO SLEEP the night before due to the howling wind forever.
Everyone takes up so much space in an effort not to sit by each other, thus being incredibly fucking rude and leaving NO SPACE for anyone.  

There is not enough seating for this to be a fucking waiting room.

Is there a reason I shouldn't sit on the vent thing?
There were no seats due to poor space evaluation, and everyone else who did not get a seat is just standing awkwardly.
So, I sat on the vent thing by the window.  

No one seemed phased, but no one joined me either. 

Is this like an MIB test?
Did I pass? 


But, like, no one else wants to sit?  

And why fill a three seat couch with only two people?  
These are more anti-social than I am.  
It just isn't logical.  

Actually, I think I broke it. 
With my butt. 


There was a noise and vibration, and now the thing on my side is bent in.  


I broke it.  Oh my god. 


I failed the MIB test. 


Oh my god oh my god oh my god no no no no no.
Oh my god.  That's why they all looked at me. 
Now I'm the idiot who broke this.  Oh my god.  This is my first day.  Oh no. 


The fuck was the point of coming here at 8:15???


Fast walker. 




One right and I'm fucking lost.


Couldn't get coat off. 


Why did I sit right in the front?  

Who am I trying to impress? 

Don't throw up.  

Don't throw up.  
Don't throw up.

Oh god, I'm sweaty.  

Why?  

Signed the thing before I was supposed to.  

This is how souls get sold. 

I'm funny when people hear me the first time.


Huh.  

I wrote my own birthday wrong.

Don't tell me about arm pain, you insensitive old lady. 


Such hunger.  

I'm gonna eat the lady next to me. 

Bathroom? 

Too many doors.  
Are we all in the men's room? 

Lunch with Rob was nice, if brief.  

I learned how long a half hour break really is.  

What they may as well have said, "By the way, fuck your carpool!  

Go half an hour in the wrong direction for three days because whoops."  
So, I asked the nice lady what I should do, and she offered me a ride.  
I accepted because I didn't really know what else to do, and instantly felt guilty.  





Day Two:
I drove in with an almost stranger.  

Thankfully, she's super nice. 

I sat in the back this time, to avoid the intensity of sitting in the front last time.
So, you know, I had issue seeing the screen.


We played bingo. 


The things I wanted to say to people but instead opted to stifle until my brain was screaming from the sheer idiocy I was hearing include:


"No, the flu-shot does not cause autism,"


"Having a Masters does not make someone a genius.  I have one.  I'm not one.  Low bar," 


"Having training for both temporary and permanent employees together is kinda dumb.  You wind up just repeating the same information two different ways, confusing everyone, and then needing to repeat it again for clarification," 



"I am hungry enough to be in pain.  Why must you eat your nut-foods so loudly next to me, and then put the empty bag directly in front of me?  I hate you.  I hate you and your nuts.  And you know what else?  No, eating tree nuts every day will not magically fix all of your ailments while you maintain the smoker/drinker lifestyle like it's your goddamn job."





Day Three:
I learned that everything is lies.  

I'm getting my health insurance WAY later than I thought, for example.  And that super sucks.  

So much about parking felt to me like the stuff about bike safety when I was a kid.  "None of this applies to me."  

I never did learn to ride a bike. 

"Not gonna close unless it's a Buffalo situation," was about weather and Buffalo NY, but all I pictured in my head was a giant, disgruntled Buffalo.  


Do the monthly dues to the Water Club give you special water?  What's wrong with the water fountain?






Neck craning.  
Ow.  

Why does every table have someone eating nuts?  I avoided the cashews, ended with the almond trail mix and the bag of nuts and WHERE IS THIS ALL COMING FROM?
You hiding these nuts in your butt?  BUTT NUTS???






Day Four: 
I kept thinking I had met a friend but then he or she would say something… wrong.  

So many nuts.  I just kept inching farther and farther away. 


I spent too much time obsessing about the wrong "your" being used in the powerpoint.  

Like, it hurt me.  I couldn't look at it.  
Only the medical girl and I gave a shit.  



Day Five:
HAHAHAHAHA medical girl fucking left.
Looked at me with the same expression of, "Oh Jesus, no one else has higher degrees here" that I had, and then got her old job back. 


Fine.
FINE.
I didn't need you anyway.  Come back we even wore matching sweatshirts on that one day why don't you love me anymore???



Day Six:
We were asked what other jobs we've had. 
I mentioned that I did the illustrations for Hebrew-learning textbook that was never published.  
Still got paid though.

A man in my training class stopped me on the way to the bathroom to say, NOT ASK, but SAY, "You speak Hebrew!"

To which I replied, "No.  I mean, I know how to sound things out from Hebrew school, but not like-"
"But you wrote that Hebrew textbook."
"I illustrated it.  I just drew what I was told to draw.  Most of the book was in English, but I didn't have to read it in order to draw."

He looked disappointed as he let me know his name was whatever language, and that he was absolutely fascinated by all things Jew.  

I couldn't tell if he himself was Jewish, but I kinda need to assume not, since our conversation ended when he said, "Yeah but, I mean, Jewish is a religion.  Not a culture." 
Excuse you, shit-head?  

Look, I get that we aren't a race.  
There IS still a bloodline in some respects, but people can certainly convert and still obviously be Jews.  That's where it "only" being a religion comes in.  
BUT to say there isn't a culture is denying how many of us are born into it, yet might not particularly believe in a god.  There ARE atheist Jews who still feel connected to their heritage.  

And what the FUCK do you call a culture anyway, Mr. Shitty?  Oh, you mean we have food associated with us?  We have music, and special dances?  We have other stories and myth not technically in "the book"???  

(Keep in mind, I still really needed to go to the bathroom.  He was just too interested in borderline fetishizing my entire people to let me go do that.)

We have a history of persecution by people who are too stupid to recognize the ability to have a venn diagram of religion, myth, family heritage, history, general non-god-related moral code, A FREAKING CULTURE, and so much else. 
...
*BREATHES IN HEAVY* 

But I didn't say most of that to him.  I just said, "Well, there are atheist Jews," to which he replied with something about everyone believing in God when they need Him...  Which is such a shitty, selfish thing to say.  

I wouldn't even necessarily call myself an atheist per se, but I'm not gonna go into that right now.  
That is a rant for another time. 




I've lost track of the days at this point.
It's been years.
Thousands of years.



OH GOOD training about what we'll actually be doing! 
...
It's over? 
...
Shit. 

 
**************************************

And that was just training. 

I may do a post about working on the phones before I went to do other stuff.  We'll see.  
For now, just know that things have worked out for the time being.  Yay!