Checking In

Things here are as good as can be expected, I guess. Nana is out of the hospital, at home, in hospice care. She was pretty disoriented this morning; lucidity is slipping away. It’s a bit overwhelming, but I’m honestly not that worried about her. She’s not in pain and doesn’t appear to be frightened. It’s either her time or it’s not. We’re all very worried about my grandfather, however. He’s been her Superman for 55 years. He beside himself with horror and grief that he can’t fix her. I can’t even imagine what’s he’s going through. I start to and it just becomes too much.

If you smoke, quit. I’m serious. If you give a damn about the people who love you, stop. Struggling for air is a terrible way to die. Ellis, Xtop, I am looking at you.

We’re doing our best to carry on with work, which is, you know, vital, since the life of the freelancer means no pages, no paycheck. Banks want mortgages to be paid for some reason and the garage and the kitchen won’t, as they say, “pay for themselves.” Fraction and I have slipped away to Panera today for a few hours to try and get some done. We’re about to leave and I’m not sure how successful we’ve been but at least we got started. I cleared out about a million (okay, like, 80) e-mails and began answering some interview questions about 30 DAYS OF NIGHT: EBEN AND STELLA. Fraction spent some time on the phone with Brubaker. We’re going to have to miss the Emerald City Con because of our family situation, so we’re hoping to get out and visit Bru and Mel some time in the next couple of months.

Peter and I have discussed the possibility of reviving ARTBOMB at some point, but no one is sure they’ve got the time to do it right. No decisions have been made as of yet.

I have two new Viz projects beginning this summer, but as per usual, I can’t name them until Viz gives the okay. I will tell you that they’re both pretty cool, but I bet you guessed that.

Laurenn is, bless her, at home watching the house and the boys for us. Apparently she has some kind of ass injury. You might send her butt best wishes and her feet condolences (Claude ate her beautiful red flats) if you’ve got the time. And congratulate her on her new apartment. I haven’t seen the place yet, but I’m hoping we’ll be able to paint the kitchen cabinets. She’s in love with red and white retro kitchens and I just saw some cabinets painted bright red and glossy that I loved, loved, loved. I suppose we’ll see.

In unrelated news, my bra is killing me. Underwire is both a blessing and a curse.