Friends

I'm having company tomorrow and I need to clean up my apt. I just can't seem to make myself do it. I'm also having a pain in my abdomen that started last night and just won't go away. Hurray!

A couple of nights ago, I was chilling at the computer when I heard the loudest, relatively blood-curdling shrieks in the alley next to our place coming from, what I'm hoping was, an incredibly drunk individual. He was going on and on about "FUCK!" and "I'm fucking SUICIDAL" and "FUCK GREELEY" and a bunch of similar, uplifting, time-to-end-it-all shoutings. It really got under my skin. Schwa called the police, and I have no idea what became of it all. I don't think they found him. I'd like to think that a friend gave him a ride home, and that he woke up the next day with a horrible hangover and an even worse case of embarrassment.

I've been more-than-average grinchy and grumpy about Christmas this year. I turn into a child. I hate the pressure of it all, I resent the time that I don't have, and I find it awfully difficult to find cheer in the shitty weather and consumerism. I find it an all-round waste of a holiday. I actually love the family part... i love the over-eating and drinking and cookies and boardgames... I just hate gifts. I hate buying them, and I hate getting them. I'm sorry if my overall yuckiness this year has harshed anyone's buzz. I don't mean to be a scrooge. I just hate Christmas.

Things at work have been crazy. The new shop is amazing. It's more than comfortable, it's damn sexy. I'll have to admit that it makes it even more bittersweet to know that I'll be leaving it in a few months time. I've been incredibly sentimental recently, about the people that I work with. It's weird to think that I won't be working with them forever. It's not even that it's a bad or a good thing, it's just so strange to know I'll be leaving a comfort zone on so many levels. I'm finally working with Ragz, after so many years. He's more or less the guy I can thank for indirectly opening the door for me to this industry. He and Sandy are like family to me. Or they are, actually. If it weren't for them, I literally wouldn't be the person that I am today. Eliaz has been my coworker and close friend for over half my career now. I've never worked with anyone as long as I've worked with this fucker. He's like a permanent fixture in career. Who's gonna tell me to add lavender to the background once I'm not working with him any more? Who's gonna talk a bunch of shit about me not knowing who a certain artist is when he's not there? ha ha.. Fuck. Seriously.

I'm so excited to start my new life in San Francisco. But it's really hard to know I'm going to be stepping away from some of the best people anyone has ever been lucky enough to call friends. I know it's not like I'll be losing these friends, but it's going to be a lot harder to grab a beer when there are a couple thousand miles separating us. I selfishly want to grab all of these assholes and put them in my suitcase and bring them with me. It's going to be weird not having them in my life on a consistent basis. Hope y'all like road trips.

We're having a shop party/grand re-opening/new years eve shindig going on on New Years eve at Katalist. There will be some awesome djing and some beer, and snacks, and great company. And crayons. I hope you can all make it.

So, the hits just keep on coming this December. During Saturday's snowstorm an NYC Sanitation Truck smacked a utility pole across the street from our house, yanking out our power line. Miraculously, our power remained on, unfortunately, this happened at 2 am and kept us up until after 6 am, with cameos from the Fire Department, Con Ed, a Sanitation Dept Supervisor, and an earth mover to clear snow so the Con Ed truck could manage the hill and get the power line repaired. One idiot in a truck managed to hit the power line, ignoring the truck guarding it (also, stuck in the ice). I found myself clearing our steps at 5 am with a gardening shovel, because, oh ha ha, we had no shovel, stupid me forgot pours broke last year and we hadn't replaced it. I didn't want the Con Ed worker falling down the steps as the firemen and I had (I hit my head on the downed power line retaining box twice, but didn't get any electrical super powers. No luck, I tell you). So, fun up the ass, there, just as Sarah's root canal pain died down and a few family-spawned nightmares developed.

Further fun -- I couldn't get out of here on Sunday because of the snow, and had to make do with the gardening shovel to clear our walk. My back is now spasming like a worm orgy on a white-hot skillet as a result of the weekend, and my arms feel like someone played Stretch Armstrong with them, forgetting they aren't rubber. You know those cartoonists who hit the wights and are in great shape? All dozen or three of them? I'm not one of them. As it pained me to realize, yet again. Fucking ouch, man. Fucking ouch.

And yesterday - some scumbag parks his car in front of our cleared garage and goes to work, leaving the car for at least ten hours. So, we couldn't get our car out of the garage. And if you're familiar with Satan Island (my sympathies), you need your car if you have plans. Called 311, no help. I did get to shovel some more with the glorified two-handed spade. Why didn't I write a note last year: "Shovel broken. You live in NYC. Might need another one. Seriously, consider buying a new shovel."?

And today -- well, we found out we're writing a good-sized check tomorrow,  to an electrician, to fix the damage to the house and power lines. And we're putting in a claim for the damage with the city. But even if we get the money quickly (ha ha), this is a seriously big swift kick in the teeth, after several swift shots to the head and kidneys this year. We simply cannot catch a fucking break. I was going to say at least we have our health, but...that's kind of debatable. At least our daughter has her health. There. Good.

In other news:

I'll be on SLG Radio tomorrow, Wednesday, at 5 pm EST instead of Thursday. Dan Vado and I will yell at one another for an hour about whatever the hell crops up. Maybe I'll throw myself off a building during the podcast, that might actually get a few listeners to the archives.

Beasts of Burden #4 ships tomorrow to various comic shops. And then we're done, at least for now. My thanks to everyone out there who picked up the series, gave it a try, gave it some ink or helped spread the word online. It's all been appreciated. This really has been a pet project of mine (sorry), and the response from the readers has been incredibly gratifying. If all goes well, we hope to have some good news on further material sometime next year, fingers crossed. And we'll definitely have a collection of the first 8 stories out mid-2010. I think Jill and I made some good comics, I really do. I hope we get to make some more. Hope #4 works okay for you folks who will be picking it up, thanks again.

This decade can't end soon enough. Honestly.

....six twenty....wide awake...gonna sweep the blizzard off my car and head to the gym....


..kiss me...I'm Irish...

...are whatever you say they were.

Looked everywhere but I can't find any reference to what, I think, may be a sleep disorder I have. Basically, it seems I sometimes, rarely thankfully, sleep so deeply that my body stops regulating its temperature. So, I wake up shivering even when covered in blankets.

This happened again last night. But, this time it wasn't as extreme as some past episodes. I warmed up pretty quickly after waking up. This was also the first time that I had the problem without a dream about an injury. All the past episodes occurred after a dream about an injury like broken bone. Never any pain in the dreams though. I guess I could have had a dream like that and just not remembered.

Anyway, long story short, I'm just wondering if any one reading this has ever heard of a sleep disorder that would cause a person's body temperature to fall below normal.