Close-Minded, Anal People Suck

Today's rant is very fitting considering yesterday's about no one ever wanting to get involved. I experinced the flip side yesterday afternoon. My mother called to inform me that one of Kimi's classmate's mothers stopped her when she dropped her off at school. Her daughter had spent the night last Saturday. She was apparently concerned that Kimi was telling very dark ghost stories. So I asked if the little girl had been scared, and my mother said no, she was curious. So, as I understand it, this little girl went home and told her mother the stories Kimi told her, asking if she thought they were true. She also mentioned that Kimi wanted her to keep the stories secret, which concerned the mother. All my mom could get out of her about the story was something about a girl ghost in the school's bathroom and a mother and sister dieing. She said the only way the mother could describe it was...dark.

My mother, bless her, said, "Well, her mother does write horror, but she never lets Kimi read anything she writes." Great, like being the youngest parent in the school who wears weird t-shirts and dyes her hair an odd shade of red hasn't already put me on the outside with school parents. Now they know I'm a horror writer. Wonder how many play dates Kimi will get now. heh.

Of course I was annoyed. Who was this woman to say that there was a problem with my daughter because she told scary stories? I used to tell some doozies myself when I was her age. She's an only child who happens to be blessed with a vivid imaginatiopn. She has no siblings and no kids nearby to play with...so she spends her time playing with her toys and creating fantasy worlds of her own. I'm 4 years younger than my brother and 5 years younger than my sister, it was almost like being an only child. I see her playing and it's the spitting image of me. Hell, when I was 10 I used to pretend I was Sybil and freak out my cousins by becoming different personalities. And I turned out all right. :)

But I gave the woman the benefit of the doubt and decided to talk to Kimi about it. She had told me the other day that she saw a special about ghosts on the discovery channel, and she's been reading a lot of ghost story collections, geared towards her age level of course. So she has an interest in the paranormal, she takes after her mother.

I get home yesterday and asked her if she and this litle girl had been telling ghost stories. She said yes. I asked what they were about. She said about the ghosts in the school bathroom. Now, anyone who has read or seen Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets knows about Moaning Myrtle, the ghost that haunts the girls' bathroom at Hogwarts. So I assumed she was playing with that in mind. I asked her about the ghost. She told me her name was Sara, and that she had died long ago from falling off a bridge. She had told me about that days before, only she was telling me about what she saw on the discovery channel.

So I asked her if she was just telling the story from the tv show, and she said no, Sara was really there. She said she first heard about Sara on the show, but Sara definitely haunts the bathroom. So I let it go. I asked about the mother and sister. Her eyes got wide and she asked how I knew about that. I told her to answer my question. She said that they had died. One day when she went to see Sara, she told her she was depresed because her mother and baby brother had died. Apparently they haunt the bathroom too. I asked if they were on the tv special, she said no, Sara had told her about them.

She said that her friend wanted to see the ghosts but that Sara only came out around Kimi, and whispered to Kimi, because she was afraid of the other girls. I asked why she wanted to keep this all secet. She said because another girl in her class said that if you believe in ghosts, you have an evil mind. Figures. (She goes to a Catholic school, by the way.) So she didn't want people making fun of her. The girl who spent the night is her best friend, so she trusted her.

I explained that her friend's mother was concerned about her stories so I thought it was best for her not to tell them to her anymore. I told her she could tell me, or her dad, or grandparents about them, but not to mention it to the kids anymore. I hate to do that to her, because she is a wonderful storytelller, but in this day and age, those who have a passion for the darker side of life are often snubbed, especially by rich, yuppy parents.

Of course now my parents are concerned. They want me to take her to a shrink just to make sure there isn't something going on. It's called imagination peopele! Sigh. She just takes after her mom. I see my shrink tonight, I'll bring it up to her. I'm sure I'm right in thinking my kid is perfectly normal, but I'll get a second opinion.

It never ends. :)

A Rant That Makes Me Sick To My Stomach

While talking to one of my co-workers today she asked if I had heard about that poor little boy found starved in a closet. My stomach immediately knotted up as she gave me the details. Thus the focus of my rant today.

People who know me often tell me that I'm not the sensitive, demure type. I whole-heartedly agree. I can be brash, loud, blunt, abbrasive, and often vulgar. Hey, it's part of my charm. But when it comes to children, it's a whole nuther ballgame.

Even before I was a mother, certain news stories and scenes in books and movies I couldn't take. Even in my own writing, I tend to shy away from anything terrible happening to a child, unless the story absolutely calls for it. And then I do so without getting too graphic, and I end up having to turn the computer off for a while because it really disturbs me to have to write about it. I think most people are disgusted by child abuse and neglect...but it's something that not only makes my blood boil, it's something I don't handle well.

There have been times when I've had to walk out of a movie theater or into another room if a movie I'm watching depicts violence towards a child too graphically. One example is the movie Trainspotting. I don't want to ruin it for anyone who hasn't seen it, but suffice it to say, when my friends rented it and a particular scene hit, I had to leave the room in tears. My husband thinks I'm overly sensitive...what a kick that is knowing my personality.

Even reading or seeing news reports of child abuse sends me over the edge, perhaps moreso because it is all too real. So when I heard about this 7-year-old boy who was punsished by being locked in a closet for 6 months with barely any food, I went into a Meghan-sized rant.

These "parents" decided that for some reason, their one son (who is one of 6 children, 4 of which actually lived with them) was a problem child and had to be punished severely. He'd go for a week without food and was left in the closet 24-7 to live in his own filth. When the police found him, he weighed less than 40 pounds. Yet the parents still stand by their statement that he was "only being punished." (You can read the article for yourself here: http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/ap/20030610/ap_on_re_us/closet_boy_abused_1)

What in the hell is going on in this world? What could a seven-year-old child possibly do to provoke such cruelty in an adult, an adult who is supposed to love him unconditionally and protect him no matter what the cost to herself? These people had 6 children, 2 of which couldn't even live with them. Doesn't that point out somethig? Why were these people allowed to get away with this for so long? Didn't neighbors notice only 3 children going in and out of the house? The kid's own grandmother ended up calling the police because she hadn't seen him in "awhile." 6 months? She couldn't catch on any earlier? For Christ's sake!

I am all for the death penalty and think it is severley underused. These parents should be hung by their privates and skinned alive! But I'd settle for the chair or even lethal injection. But at most they'll get jail time and will probably get out one day. It makes me sick as a parent and as a human being.

And the real problem is, I can read the news online every day and find a different case, with similar results. Sexual abuse, physical abuse, starvation, torture...you name it I can find it. It's absolutely disgusting. Part of the problem is that in this country, people just don't care about anyone else. Your neighbor could be beating the shit out of his wife and yet you do nothing. You don't want to get involved. You notice your neighbor's child with bruises all over his face and arms, this isn't the first time. But you don't dare call child services, it isn't your place. If more people stepped up and got involved, maybe so many children wouldn't be dead at the hands of their own parents.

This little boy found in a closet was lucky to be alive. But how lucky is he? I can't even fathom what this torture has done to his mental health, let alone his physical body. And to know that your own parents did it to you...this child is far from lucky.

I don't mean to preach...well, maybe I do. I know that I wouldn't hesitate to get involved if I knew something was going on with a neighbor's child. Or anyone for that matter. Hell, I called the cops on the neighbor's teenage son and his friends a few weeks ago because I heard a girl screaming and someone yelling to her to get in the car and lock the door, while a boy kept screaming, "We had a pact!" I don't know these kids, all I know was I heard a frightened girl and a potentially violent boy. So I called the cops. I'll never know exactly what the situation really was, but if it could have escalated into violence, I'm not ashamed to admit I called the cops. My husband called me a busybody. Maybe so, but it's who I am. I couldn't live with myself if that girl ended up beaten or shot. Could you?

Just About Done Recouping

Went to the Bram Stoker Award Weekend held by the HWA on Saturday. That was the only day I could make it out, so I made the most of it. My crew got there at about 4ish and wandered around looking for a kindly writer to let us throw our crap in his/her room. The unsuspecting Jack Fisher took the bait. So we dropped our "fancy clothes" off at Jack's room and went across the street to a diner, we were starved. Despite their gravy tasting like it had cinimon in it, it wasn't too bad. They made me a cherry coke which turned out really good. :)

Of cousre since the awards were held in NYC, smoking was a problem. Those of you in my area know how the weather has been as of late, and Saturday was no exception. Rainy, windy, and generally crappy. And the smokers were forced to huddle outside since this new ban SUCKS ASS!

Anyhoo, by the time we finished our food it was time to get ready for the banquet. We were banking on the shindig starting at 6:30...but it started at 6. So we ran to Jack's room at a little after 5:30 and took over.

At this point in my posting I have to apologize and thank Jack, Rob, Sean, and Jared for letting us totally invade your room to get gussied up. But I did iron lots of shirts for people, so I think I gave back a little.

We all arrived at the dinner fashionably late. I sipped my $8 glass of wine slowly, since that pretty much torched our cash supply. The dinner was decent. The salad had feta cheese (or as I like to call it, feet cheese), so that sucked, but everything else was pretty good. Especially the cheesecake. :)

Flesh & Blood did not win the Stoker in the alternative forms category, but there's always next year. Congrats to all the winners! I really did enjoy myself.

Ok, now for the good parts. The huge bash thrown by the Stoker organizors Monica O'Rourke and Gina Osnovich. My hats off to you ladies for doing such a superb job this year! I didn't think you could top last year's, but you did! So we're hanging out in a HUGE suite on the 23rd floor. Two large balconies overlooked the city, with a fantastic view of Times Square. The rain was starting to taper off, so most of the smokers delt with the drizzle and hung out on the balconies. I bumped into a lot of friends, and even made some new ones.

I was finally introduced to my alter ego, Lisa, who I have been talking with over at Geoff Cooper's board. We clicked instantly and spent the evening getting blasted, taking naughty pictures, and laughing our asses off. You the woman Lisa! And damn! You people won't believe what she can fit into her bra! ;) (Pictures will be available for a small fee. hehehehe) ;)

Of course my attempt to get a closer view of the street below us was foiled by Brian Keene. He ran to get my husband who coaxed me down from the ledge and gave me a good talking too. It seemed like a good idea at the time...though when I woke up the next day I realized I had a lot of thanking to do. :)

Other memorable moments included: Taking pictures with Dallas, Brian, Jack, and Roger; Dallas mooning me on the balcony; Lisa "knifing" Brian's t-shirt; and listening to a drunken Jack Fisher.

The evening was perhaps made even more special because Mary SanGiovanni (one of my best friends) and Kevin Nichols (My husband's cousin) announced their engagement. I was utterly thrilled and we celebrated all night long!

We got back to NJ at about 4 in the morning. I was useless all day yesterday and spent most of my time sitting on the couch flipping through the channels. I definitely can't party like I used to...but I'm working on building my tolerance back up.

So that was my experience at this year's Stoker Awards. Had me a blast and look forward to seeing many of the same peole again at Necon in July.

Before I go I just want to thank some people that helped to make my experience even better: Mary SanGiovanni, Kevin Nichols, Laura "Mazz" Mazzarone, Lisa "The Sex Machine", Jacob Hadden, Brian Keene, Roger Range, Jack Fisher, Dallas Mayr, Monica O'Rourke, Linda Addison, Gerard Houarner, and of course, my hubby, Fran. Looking forward to next year's! Maybe I'll actually have something on the ballot! heh