Klingons and the Romulans pose no threat to us - 'cause if we find we're in a bind we just make some shit up!

I’ve been a little offbeat all my life. The girl with the combat boots, the girl who loves vampires, the girl with that tattoo on her lip, the girl with the crazy colored hair – all me.

My interests go anywhere from shoes to zombies, Zelda to James Dean. When I started dating Tony I was opened up to a world where I could love all of these things, and then some, in public and with other people.

Tony introduced me to the world of conventions. Wizard World Philadelphia, Video Game Expo Philly, Horror-Con – we frequent these every chance we get. This year is the second year that I’ll be attending Wizard World and, let me tell you, I’m overwhelmed.

At the first Wizard World I got a taste of celebrity when I acted like a dumbfounded fool upon meeting Emma Caulfield, better known to Buffy fans as Anya. I like to consider that a practice run for what would happen months later at Horror-Con: my meeting with the crush/love/I-want-to-have-your-babies man of my dreams, James Marsters. (better known to Buffy fans as Spike).

This year’s Wizard World is packed to the brim with people I’m dying to meet. James will be there, as will a bevy of people that are icons in the kingdom of nerds.

Shall we?


Ernie Hudson, of Ghostbuster fame, as Winston Zeddemore.



Mmm, my favorite Baldwin, Stephen. I dunno which I'd consider more of a classic: Biodome or The Usual Suspects.



Many Batmans have come and gone, but none are so awesome as Adam West. POW! SMASH!


Bruce Campbell. Two words for you: Evil. Dead. I dunno, I've always had an awkward crush on this guy.

And the mother of them all:


Guys. Come on. It's Captain Jean-Luc Picard. And if THAT doesn't get your blood pumping, let's have a little chat about Charles Xavier aka Professor X.

Needless to say, my camera will be at the ready at all times and my Twitter will be going crazy this Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.

I'm also on the hunt for the dude who dressed up as Thor last year. Wicked costume and I need a picture with him to place beside the ones of me with Spiderman and Wonder Woman.

If you want to find out more, check out this site!
http://www.wizardworld.com/home-pa.html

Maybe I'll see you there. : )

triforce, bitches.

When I was a little girl, I had a very hard time putting the little plastic shoes on my Barbies. The feet were inflexible, the shoes always seemed too small, and I just didn’t have the patience.

So please imagine what my life is now like, having to fit a harness around this - a living, MOVING creature:




This is Link, the new addition to mine and Tony’s life and home, and the most adorable dog on the planet. Yea, I said it. If you’re a dog owner I want you to look at your little one and say, “A mini doxie just made your cuteness level drop drastically” and lament the fact that you don’t have my dog.

Link is eight weeks old and we just picked him up Saturday from a breeder in Bloomsburg. (beavervalleydoxies.com – I HIGHLY recommend her!) He already recognized where he needs to pee and poop outside the house, where the gate is to get back in the house, and where his food and water dish is. After almost 72 hours of being with us.

Suck on that, Lassie.

He gets the hiccups, he whines something fierce when he’s in his crate, he likes to bite EVERYTHING and he is just, in general, the epitome of adorable.

Tony and I are so excited to have him and I think his mere presence has bonded us more as a couple. Tony shows a fatherly side with him that I’ve never seen before. The man that dresses all in black, barely says a word that isn’t sarcastic, and has a fixation with anything bloody and gross coos, oohs, and ahhs over this dog. He babytalks him, cuddles him, and calls me “mommy” and himself “daddy.”

Link’s cast a spell on the whole family, including myself, and much of our neighbors who pass us as we walk him outside.

Oh, and about the name? “Aww, he’s a hot dog- dog, so it’s like a sausage link!”

No way, noobz. We are more creative than that.

zombie hoarde? vampire attack? nope. just wine.

I just spilled red wine.

All over our bed sheet.

Our BEIGE bed sheet.

And really, by all over, I mean only about a one inch diameter spot.

But come on now. It’s red wine, I’m home by myself, I never had a stain like this before, it’s only a month old bed sheet. So to me, it looked like a murder scene.

I’d like to thank Google, for always being there in a pinch, and our neighbor Tom, for loaning me a cup of laundry detergent. Since we just got our washer and dryer YESTERDAY, we have no such supplies.

My advice to you if you have a red wine stain, my friends: act QUICKLY. Rinse it with cold water, sprinkle some salt on it and let it sit for a minute or two, rinse it again. (Possibly repeat this action one more time.) Now rub some laundry detergent in, let that sit, and rinse. Throw that shit in the washer. Then sit back, relax, and marvel at how efficient you are. Hell, have another glass of wine!

Just make sure not to spill it.

boo, you whore.

I. Suck.

I've been cooking, but not blogging.

I went on a cruise - I need to blog about that.

I just need to get my shit together, you know?

I'm already up early and going today, so maybe this is the week? Maybe the cruise was the breaking point?

We shall see.

and it fell, and fell, and fell...

So I found that I was asking myself a lot of questions when I woke up this morning.

Such as, where are our front steps? How can those birds possibly be chirping at me from that tree as I push a foot of snow off my car? How can I repay the nice man who took a snow blower to our front walk? Why is that guy up the street with the braces even attempting to walk his dog?

I’m not kidding about that last one. Guy’s like three hundred pounds and he smokes. He’s got braces attached to his arms that he uses to help him walk. Only time I ever see him out is when it snows and he’s with his dog. The dog runs around, he yells at it and feigns horror at the fact that he can’t chase after the thing. He holds a lot of conversations with himself in loud tones about how tired he is and what a pain in the ass the dog is. He’s loud and obnoxious and I swear to God if he ever falls down I am only going to use my cell phone to take pictures of it, not call an ambulance.

Is there an Olympic event for shoveling? ‘Cause if there is, I win the gold. And if not, fuck you Olympics. I felt like a curler this morning anyway, vehemently scraping the ice off my car.

Well, I’m off to shovel some more, as the white stuff just won’t stop falling. Toodles. : )

the all new, all purpose me.

As I have pointed out numerous times to you, I’m sure, I’m an only child. It wasn’t until recently, when Tony and I moved into our own home, that I’d really been out by myself with no one to lean on.

I’m not saying I’m not a domestic person, because I have certainly proven to myself in the past couple of months that I’m totally capable of handling my affairs with ease and efficiency. I knew I always had the knowledge and the verve to accomplish such things; the problem was, I never had an environment in which to use them. Well, now I do.

One thing that I have yet to fully exercise is my culinary skills (or lack thereof). Please understand that until about oh, five years ago?, I was an extraordinarily picky eater. I brought peanut butter sandwiches to lunch with me every day from eight grade until graduation. I used to scrape the cheese off my pizza and damned if I knew anything about fruits and veggies – what are those, anyway?

I still have my misgivings (tomatoes, onions, certain types of meat), but all in all I’ve gotten over my food phobias and have become a well-rounded eater. (Both literally and figuratively…although it could be all the Dominos, and not my expansive diet, that’s caused a bit of weight gain.) So, now that I have my own kitchen to mess around in, I’ve decided to delve into the art of cooking.

I come from a family of great cooks, namely my grandmother. She had a garden, made pasta from scratch, and was relied upon for the best meals during holidays. She made a spaghetti sauce that will never match any other. Unfortunately, by the time I realized I wanted to learn how to cook and make such a sauce, she was gone. I’ve just now inherited a little piece of her that should help me along the way.





The 1997 edition of The Joy of Cooking. Five-ish pounds of not only recipes, but the basics of food and appliances and cooking methods. This book was always at her side and now, with it in my hands, I see the tattered and bookmarked pages – she used this thing a lot. So, now I’m going to methodically go through it and do my best to nurture my (hopefully) innate Italian/Polish cooking skills and make some damn good meals.

Yes, I am going to go Julie & Julia on you for a bit here. Sorry. But when I screw up it’ll be funny, right? And if I don’t, simply tasty – and you’ll wish you were here to try it.

It saddens me that the brilliantly bright flame of your innovation and talent has been snuffed out so soon. RIP. You were a true fashion powerhouse.