A famous author looked out his window one day and saw a four-year-old girl playing in the garden  with her sisters. He opened his diary and made a notation describing the event, adding that he was “marking this day with a white stone.” He had many child-friends before he met her and many after, all of them preadolescent girls, all of which he would lose touch with around the time they turned 10. But there was something special about the White Stone Girl, as he would tell her himself in one of his few surviving letters to her, written after they had become estranged. He wrote a book about her. It included everyone they knew and every in-joke they had ever shared; his original manuscript is covered with drawings of her and the last page features her oval portrait, which he photographed himself. He was a respected child-photograper in his day and took many pictures of young girls, some of them in the nude. One of his most praised portraits was of the White Stone Girl; she leans against a brick wall in a torn waifish dress and gazes provacatively into the camera with a sullen pout.

Volumes of his diaries survive, but the pages that would have detailed their last year as friends are missing. We have many of his letters, but most of the letters he wrote to her were burned by her mother. In the published version of his most famous book, the story ends with a poem that’s beginning letters spell out her full name. His sequel includes a chapter that some say the illustrator recognized as an exchange between the author and the White Stone Girl, and in his disgust, the illustrator drew this self-insert character as a decrepit old man to emphasize the age difference. In spite of all of this, the most respected authorites on the life of Lewis Carroll will tell you that his relationship with Alice Liddell was platonic, fatherly and completely innocent.

There are plenty of people who will now dismiss the molestation rumors about Michael Jackson. I heard one newscaster explain his companionship with young boys as a result of his inability to grow up, so children were all he could relate to. Naturally then they would need to share a bed. Why hasn’t anyone tried that one on To Catch a Predator? “Not me officer, I’m just here for a sleepover.”

We have a difficult time separating genius from the genius. We believe if we like the work, we must like the person who made it. We fail to recognize the ultimate contradiction: that divine talent and divine madness are entertwined. Worse, that it might not be a contradiction, that we might have to admit that what inspired us in their art, their literature or music was inspired by their personal demons in the first place. Admit that Marilyn Monroe’s equisite vulnerability might have come from being raped at age 11, admit that Betty Page’s warm smile at the camera while sporting leather bondage gear was made possible by an earlier theft of her innocence, admit that Hemingway’s driving thirst for adventure might have been a race against a ticking clock built by his father’s suicide. And if we admit that, what does that say about us?

What busy days these are! The biggest event lately is the quest for Grad school. After I managed to get all of my recommendations, write my essay, complete my application and turn everything in, I found out that my undergrad school had never gotten my faxed request to send my transcript. I called and left messages, but didn’t get any real action until I got someone on the phone. I faxed the request again, it was processed and mailed, and I got my official acceptance while I was on vacation.

As soon as I got back I got on MyUCF to register for class. But after I’d gone through adding classes, I discovered I had a hold on my registration. There was a health document I didn’t know about. I called my parents and began my spirited search for my health records. My former pediatrition was dead, my first undergrad school had dumped my records and the second I got my degree from had never asked for them. My parents had to go down to my high school to dig them up. We sent them off but when I called the Health Center, I learned that I was missing a second vaccination for measles. Measles vaccine? At my age? Ok…

It took me another week to get into the doctor and tell him my plight. They immediately blood-tested me for measles immunity and gave me a tetanus shot for luck. I tested immune and the doctor’s office sent off my form. I called the Health Center and discovered - they would only be satisfied with the lab results. If they read the lab results differently from the doctor, they planned to challenge his sign off. Wow. Fortunately they must have deemed my lab results acceptable; my hold came off after the doctor faxed them over.

Back to registering for those classes. The finance class I wanted to get into, after all of this running around, had only one space left. I attempted to get in and - denied! I got an error telling me I needed permission to take this class. That really surprised me because it was clearly one of the four my acceptance letter told me I had to take, a required Foundation class. I called the registrar’s office, and they explained that I would need a permission ID number to override the system and allow me to register. I needed an override to take a class I had to take? They assured me there was nothing they could do after that, they would forward me to my MBA department. I had to leave a message.

Fortunately, someone in that office did get back to me and helped me get my override. Unfortunately, the Finance class filled in the meantime. I decided to get into the Accounting class, but I needed yet another override number and had to call back.

I’m relieved to say that I got help again and I am now registered for two classes this summer. I knew grad school was hard, but registration wasn’t the part I thought would be hard. I’m just glad to be in, glad to be taking this step, and even happy to see the ginormous accounting textbook  had to order.

I had a party on Friday where I served a series of mixed drinks to a group of friends. Some people might have gotten a little overexcited and broken a cup. You know who you are. I served a Brandy Apple Snap, a Tequila Mockingbird, a Singapore Sling, a Blue Hawaiian, a Dragon Fly, and a very rich shooter, so I’ll take the blame. Two friends stayed over so we hit the driving range in the morning before going to an event, so I don’t mind that today was filled with chores. It was a great weekend.

Has someone ever put you in a position where you have to break the bad news to someone else, without acknowledging the source of that news? Seems like I end up there all the time. Sometimes anxiety can ruin my whole weekend. So I’m spending the afternoon learning how to use this HD camera before the cruise and trying not to stress about things.

Buying your camera off the shelf can be a good deal but when you buy from Sony you’d better get the disk. Just about nothing is compatible wiFth HD video at this point, but the camera comes with a player. That won’t solve your problems if you want to splice videos together and make a final product, and Movie Maker doesn’t take HD, so that’s out. Maybe an upgrade to my outrageously old (but legal!) copy of Premiere is in order.

Meanwhile I’m testing out YouTube’s new feature - uploading HD video directly to their converter. This footage of an armadillo in the Dunes State Park is my test attempt.

I haven’t had many breaks this month while I’ve had two practically back to back projects to color. I did get a nice one yesterday as we celebrated my friend Lisa’s birthday at Animal Kingdom. Jacob and Lisa had one day before they left town for a wedding to take advantage of the celebration special Disney is doing right now, so we hit the park. It really put me in the mood for doing the same on my own birthday, coming along in just a few weeks. I loved the button she had to wear and the way every castmember is compelled to wish her a Happy Birthday. That’s my kind of day.

Unfortunately the days off are few and far between right now while the projects from Japan come fast and furious. I’ve gotten questions from people wondering what the updates on my status are all about, I’m sure it sounds weird to hear I’m coloring vegetables. To clarify, Scott does illustration work for a school in Japan and they have some odd storylines sometimes. I help him color them on the months when it’s too expensive to hire that out, which is most of the time. I can’t show a sample from what I’m working on now because it hasn’t been published yet, but it’s not too different from the one I worked on this last Christmas. Both stories were about vegetables. In the current story, fruits and vegetables are fighting with each other over which is better. They determine “better” by either being longer, shinier, fuzzier, it varies.

Avast there ye V8

Last Christmas the vegetables were pirates. I couldn’t tell you what the kids are supposed to be learning from these stories, but I can say I’ve really been trying to take quality up a notch in the latest series. I like the results but on the bad side I feel like I’ve spent way too much time on my butt lately. Yesterday’s day out was a relief, I really need to get through this level so I can have more like it. Also I forgot my camera so I’ll have to figure out how to get pictures off my mobile phone before I can post them.

I think I spent the entire first few weeks of February coloring, and the last two weeks too sick to get out of bed. When Scott gets on these crunch assignments for Japan, the inevitable result is me sitting on my butt in front of the computer night after night. It’s not surprising that leads to sleep deprivation during the time of year when I need it most to fend off my grass allergies, and that days of constant hay fever carefully cultivate a sinus infection. This one has been hard to get rid of. Especially since I have begun a new project of my own: getting my MBA.

I did some research at the beginning of 2009 and confirmed that I would need to take my GMAT to even consider getting into graduate school. This is someone who hasn’t taken a math class since I left Georgia Tech, when a miserable experience with Calculus III left no doubt in my mind that I would never make it through Calc IV and V (It’s a weird thing about Tech - the students refer to ever class by an abbreviation. Calculus = Calc, Chem = Chemistry, Diffy Q’s = Differential Equations, etc. I never got it. Probably contributed to my exit). So I picked up my GMAT for Dummies book, generously passed along from a friend currently in grad school, and gave myself a crash course in math.

I was never that great in math. I say that, while I admit, I did take nothing but honors math all the way to graduation from high school, and even made a high enough score on the AP test to get out of a quarter of college Calculus. But I had to work very, very hard at it. So hard that I barely gave any other class a second thought, never studied for much of anything else beyond taking a passing glance at science, and was darn lucky I didn’t have to. By the time I was struggling through Calc III, I had to acknowledge I was faking my way through it, I didn’t really understand it and I needed to get out. I transferred my goals to be a computer programmer to computer artist. No math in art school for me.

I just spent a month confronted with math concepts I hadn’t thought twice about in years. A math tutor might have helped, but on my own, I had limited success at figuring out how to approach most of the problems. Of any type. The book didn’t quite cover all of the material I was confronted with on the practice tests. I was freaking out by the time I had to go to my testing appointment, and I was recovering from an illness. I’m going to say straight up, I still don’t understand finding “Work.” It looks like it should be so simple too. When I took the test I got caught up in the problems I had half a chance at solving and didn’t come close to finishing the Quantitative section.

So my scores mirrored my SATs: near 100% on the verbal, on the math, just plain sad. But one made up for the other and I surpassed the minimum I needed. On to the next step: application!

Last week I was disappointed I missed the premiere of Lie to Me, but I caught the second episode last night and I’m going to be an avid watcher. Not because I’m thrilled about the characters or the plotting; it wasn’t much better than the first few episodes of Shark and similarly has a younger, weaker supporting cast orbiting a seasoned character actor. I will watch because reading body language is one of my favorite hobbies. They have a character on the show they call a ‘natural,’ as in someone who hasn’t read about what the gestures mean, they instinctively know. I haven’t cracked open a textbook on the subject either. I would say I sense the way people feel without thinking about it, and being someone acutely interested in knowing when I’m right, have spent a lifetime honing my skills at analyzing people on the outside to see if what I’m sensing matches the truth. Don’t confuse empathy with sympathy; just because I know what you’re feeling doesn’t mean I sympathize or agree with it. I’m not very sympathetic by nature and probably don’t. But I like to know and I like truth, and people lie all the time. They don’t just lie, they also reserve, more often than not they simply hold things back. Trust in actions not in words, from the grandest gesture to the smallest dart of the eye.

My friend Scott Alan is also a big proponent of body language reading for fun. We once spent a fantastic evening at a restaurant watching the table next to us and trading observations. I got the sensation of attraction and I knew it was neither coming from me or related to me; it took a look around the room to narrow it down to the interplay between our waiter and two women nearby. After I picked up on it unconsciously, it was easy enough to read the supporting signals. The waiter made more stops at their table than ours. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but one of the women’s eyes would shine when he came over, they widened, and her laugh became higher pitched and silvery. Of course the payoff was the ultimate reward for bothering to keep track of all of this; during one of the waiter’s brief absences, the young lady adjusted her neckline so it plunged and revealed her best advantages. The effect of this was like dangling a piece of fluff in front of a cat, our waiter was like a man transfixed, and there were no more drink refills for us that night.

It’s actually not that great all the time knowing exactly what people think of you. And if they way they treat you on the outside doesn’t match the telltale signs, others may think you are being paranoid, and you may even end up doubting yourself. But when it comes to reading strangers, nothing beats an afternoon at the mall making mental notes about whether or not that guy is into his girlfriend or that woman is suffering from self-confidence issues. OK so that might make the course of events during an episode of the show a little predictable for someone like me. But then again, if I didn’t enjoy predicting what someone will do next and what they’re really thinking, I wouldn’t identify with the show to begin with.

Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 27 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 27 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you.

(To do this, go to “notes” under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 27 random things, tag 27 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click publish.)

1. I chose to do the 27 things post sent by Jason instead of the 25 sent by Tom because Tom complained that 25 was a lot.
2. I lurk Fandom!Secrets because people revealing how much they obsess over fictional characters is hysterically funny to me.
3. My Seattle co-workers and I were close enough to talk about a lot of things that were not SFW. They know me as an expert on pervy internet subcultures, even though I myself am a part of none of them.
4. I used to own a ferret specifically because I wanted a pet that would sit on my shoulder. I was disappointed when he wouldn’t learn to stay up there.
5. At age 14 I was as obsessed with the Young Riders as any internet fan might be today, but I’m relieved that there was no internet and my childlike gushing was confined to spiral notebooks.
6. I’ve done extensive research on Lewis Carroll, visited Oxford and the vacation home in Wales, and read his diaries.
7. My first crush was at age 4 - the Professor on Gilligan’s Island. I remain an admirer.
8. One of my later crushes was Gary Owens. Yes, the voice of Space Ghost. With moustache.
9. I have never considered dating anyone younger than me. At least one year is a requirment, and frankly the larger the age gap the better.
10. I played baritone horn in high school until my senior year, when I finally got the courage to tell my parents that I’d hated band for years.
11. I got a ‘Most Talented’ nomination when I graduated from high school, which surprised me, because I didn’t think anyone at school had noticed I was an artist.
12. I once lost the regional level of an art competition to the judges’ granddaughter, whose piece was disqualified from going to state because the rules didn’t allow photocopied money pasted into the artwork. Actually nothing was supposed to be pasted on in the first place.
13. I was born in Beaumont, moved to Houston, moved to Beaumont, moved to Bellingham, moved to Beaumont, moved to Atlanta, moved to Savannah, summered in Orlando, moved to Atlanta, moved to Beaumont, moved to Seattle, then moved to Orlando.
14. My parents are selling their Beaumont house and moving to Orlando, so I will most definitely not be housing again in Beaumont.
15. I helped run a business for two years which had office space and employees on the payroll. I let my partner buy me out when I just couldn’t afford the struggle anymore.
16. My favorite game is observing strangers and making deductions about them. Extended observations shows I have a high accuracy rate.
17. If I could go back in time and tell myself one thing, it would be to avoid sugar and flour, avoiding years of pre-diabetic weight gain and fainting spells.
18. Despite distance, I will be a lifetime member of Cartoonists Northwest, and have an unusual number of acquaintances working in professional comics, from a DC Batman editor to newspaper comics writes to independents who actually do make a living at it.
19. My year working as an animator on Cartoon Network bumpers created relationships with animators that I still keep up with. I meet up with them whenever I get the chance, even though they are now all over the country.
20. I’m positive I’m married to one of the most talented artists alive. I take it for granted that every brushstroke will be genius.
21. I will karaoke on the slightest excuse, and when Jason told me he was developing an emergency karaoke list, I was very encouraging.
22. I left Georgia Tech because the pressures of Calculus III were giving me a nervous breakdown.
23. I’m writing a graphic novel about my grandfather that I think may be slightly explosive if published.
24. I think part of the fun of being a Republican is how much it ticks everybody off.
25. I watch Blade Runner at least once a year. I’ve seen it at least 30 times and regularly quote it.
26. I’ve gotten the short end of things so many times that I have little sympathy for whiny pity parties. Pick it up and try again.
27. When I would tell my father my thoughts about something, he would say, “Yeah, but is that real, or just feelings?” I live my life by that philosophy.

If you saw my site right now you’d be wondering WHAT is GOING ON?? The layout is completely different and of all things, the complete archive of Scooter and Ferret strips is now up, including all the way through that end period when it went under the name of Ask Maridee. It’s all part of the preparations for the rebirth of the strip under the old name, continued not as if nothing has happened, but as if it took a fresh breath of air and put the wheels back in motion. In anticipation of that, I’ve been applying the Comicpress Wordpress theme to the site and I’m no CSS whiz. Therefore the application of the new theme is taking me several nights of work. I’m in Savannah at the moment too, adding to the chaos preventing me from finishing my work. Sorry you might be seeing the website’s underpants, but maybe I’m making up for that by getting the archive live first. Strips that haven’t been available in years are now viewable again. Not only that but I’ve gone back and updated the MySpace page. Orlando is a new life and it’s a new world ahead. If you’re not familiar with Scooter and Ferret, now is as good a time as any to go back to the sweet and tender years of 2004-2007 and get to know Ferret, Scooter, Ed and of course, Maridee.

My parents are visiting, and while they’re here, they’re looking at houses. With their two kids now on the east coast, there isn’t much left in Texas to hold their interest. A few days ago I talked with my dad about some of the things I’ve experienced associated with the layoffs and he reminded me of his own story. He survived no less than five layoffs with Mobil Oil before they merged with Exxon, the move that finally brought stability to the company and preserved the oil industry. He retired with ExxonMobil just this year, but there were many times when he thought he would be on the list to go. Before it happened, there would be a new rumor every day and people would lash out at each other from fear. After it happened, the people that left said things about him and believed he said things he never did. For awhile he thought he was losing a lot of friends, and then after awhile, he realized that people that behave that way were never worth worrying about to begin with.

My mother has gone through a long year of ovarian cancer treatments. Every time she goes in to see the doctor, he shakes his head with disbelief. She is still here. My parents never wanted to hear the odds because people aren’t statistics; statistics have very little to do with the progress of the individual. They are planning to move here, regardless of where the future takes me, because they would rather enjoy the time they have left than wait for a possibility that may never come. No one is entitled to a job. No one is entitled to have their slightest hurt feeling massaged. No one is even entitled to ten more years of living without cancer giving the final say in the matter.

As I put a pumpkin pie in the oven, I am reminded of how blessed I am, for this year at least, to have my mother chopping celery at the table. It comes down to this: my father retired in January after 30 years of service to his company. On his last day of work, he turned off his computer, packed his things, and waved to the few co-workers around to witness the event. He walked out the door, and went home to spend time with my mother, still recovering from her surgery in October. What’s really important is hard for us to see sometimes, but life invariably defines it for you. Merry Christmas everyone.

False alarm, friends all over the United States who sent me some worried notes on Facebook. I did not lose my job this week. By saying that, I don’t want to downplay the situation, a lot of good people did. The boss I recently acquired after the last round of layoffs did too, and I’m sorry and disappointed about that as I was for everyone else that received papers Thursday. Some of them I was just starting to get to know, and isn’t that the way of it - experiences like this bring people together. It’s easy to tell yourself you have all the time in the world to get to know the Direct Mail department, hard when you realize time is limited and precious. This round came too late to break my heart, that happened in October, but since I had been through this before I made a point last week to use that VIP party Chuckles the Clown won for me on Halloween. No one could have needed a party more than the group I went out with last Friday.

Props to Howl at the Moon Orlando for making room for us so last minute, and the evening was a blast. My absolute favorite moment was watching Joe Ruby, now ex-boss who was a real class-act on Thursday, getting drug up on stage at Howl to do the Hokey Pokey because he’s “looking for love.” I promised a certain Susan B that I would get the pictures into my blog: Susan, your wish is my command.

You do the Hooooo-key Pokey...

That's what it's all about!

Not to be a bumper sticker, but just my luck, that probably is what it’s all about.