ACW Episode 62 – Plant markers?! We don’t need no stinkin’ plant markers!

So I started a bazillion little seeds in my kitchen over a month ago for this year’s Operation Black Thumb, and now I have a couple dozen seedlings struggling along. Yes, the attrition rates have been high this year! Not sure what the problem is, but I’m starting to think I need to get some grow lights if I start from seed again next year because I just don’t have a decent sunny spot in my house to set up seedlings. Patty has grow lights. Of course, Patty’s like a gardening genius, so she knows what she’s doing.

Patty is the other character in this week’s cartoon. She’s made one other appearance in ACW, and no I’m not going to link to it because I’ve only got a little time to post this before my parents come banging on the door telling me it’s time to do something. Yes, my parents are here. Yes, they will come looking for me if they want me to do something. I’m 41 and still taking orders. It sucks, but on the other hand my mom usually springs for a nice trip to the book store, so there.

Any way, Patty. Patty does square foot gardening, and she thinks I should try it. I think I should try it too, if only because it will give me a more organized way to kill plants. “Yes, this square foot is the burial plot for our tomatoes, and this square foot is for zucchinis. This square foot is still available though, Mr. Bell Pepper, so if you’re looking for a nice final resting place amongst friends…”

Patty has promised to help me with my garden. Which means Patty is crazier than I am. But I knew that when she offered to host this year’s Easter Egg Hunt at her place.

Thank god for Patty.

I’ll be at RavenCon in Richmond, VA, this weekend, volunteering for the convention. If you go and you see horns, it’s most likely me!

Rats! Episode 12 – Beware of sharp objects

Another little joke about Shultz dining hall, which I understand is soon to close. How sad. I will never forget that wonderful eatery. The fine dining, the friendly service, the delightful decor…

Wait. We’re talking about Shultz? Sorry, I was waxing poetic about Macadoo’s. Or maybe Bogen’s. No, most likely the Mill Mountain Coffee Shop. No idea which of those is still around and kicking.

But about this week’s cartoon. Yeah, I think there may have been the occasional complaint that us cadets were allowed to carry weapons on campus. I shake my head over this one. Our weapons were limited to the sabers carried by senior cadets for formal occasions and the Skipper, the canon a crew of cadets would fire at home football games every time the Hokies scored a touch down. Again, the year before I joined the VTCC, Tech was caught in a recruiting scandal and wasn’t allowed to recruit for four years after, so I don’t recall hearing the Skipper fired all that often.

More deadly than any cadet corps saber would have been the spoons at Shultz dining hall. They were like the spoons you see in prison movies (think “The Shawshank Redemption”). A lot of the edges had been filed down over the years by so many grinding teeth, they were sharp enough to cut through concrete. Sadly though, not sharp enough to cut through the food served at Shultz.

Although I can’t say the food was really all that bad. I mean, I have had worse. Hell, I was in the Army Reserves for 11 years. You know I’ve had worse.

And no, I will not talk about my own failed experiments in cooking at this point in time.

Enjoy the cartoon, and think fondly on dear old Shultz.

ACW Episode 61 – Black is the New Green

Oh yeah. It’s that time of year again. Time for Operation Black Thumb! Right now, my kitchen is full of tiny, struggling seedlings, all of whom look at me and scream, “Why’d you bring us into this world, you sadist?!”

Actually, it’s not quite that bad. I’d say about 3/4ths of the seeds I started last month have come up, and considering that I’m gardening with small children, I don’t think that’s too bad. And I did plant a ton of seeds this year, in hopes that I’d have enough hardy seedlings come April 15th, which is the frost-free date around here. I may even have more than enough, in which case I’ve promised the extras to Mary and my neighbors (and all these people are so much better gardeners than I am).

The kids are having fun watching the new seedlings come up, and they have promised me that they will help me grow lots of tomatoes and beans and herbs, etc. Meanwhile, my friend Patty, who is the best gardener I know, has promised to help me put together a square foot garden for next year. We’ll probably start putting together the boxes in the fall, about the time I decide I’ve had enough of my straggling side garden and I’m ready to rip the whole thing out.

I’ll post pictures of seedlings next week, hopefully, so you can see how ambitious I am for this year’s container garden. But please promise not to bring me before a tribunal for crimes against nature, okay?

Rats! Episode 11 – Saaaaaaaalute!

I did not salute the UPS guy.

I did, however, salute a gunny sergeant, and got in so much trouble for it I still cringe at the memory. For the non-military, you do not salute NCOs (i.e. sergeants, corporals, privates, etc.). You’re only supposed to salute officers. However, we cadets were also expected to salute cadet officers, those cadets in their senior year who were not yet commissioned in the military, and thus had no military experience or actual legal rank or authority. I’m still figuring that one out.

Being an officer is an interesting position to be in. I was commissioned in 1991, went to Officer Basic Course at Ft. Eustis 91-92 (transportation OBC is the longest OBC there is, I think, lasting around 5 months), and joined my first drill unit (I was an Army Reservist) sometime later in 1992. I missed going to Kuwait with my unit by a year, although I was stationed at Fort Bragg for Cadet Troop Leadership Training the day Iraq invaded Kuwait. I started CTLT shadowing a 2nd lieutenant to learn what it’s really like to be a platoon leader in the Army and half-way through became a gopher for the unit, running errands to get dental records, wills and powers of attorney finished, plus making sure family care plans were completed so that all the members of the unit I was temporarily assigned to were prepared to go to war. It was quite an eye-opener, being on post during those few weeks. Very hectic, very scary, very confusing.

But back to my first Reserves unit. My unit was a large truck company fresh back from running convoys in Desert Storm and there I was, a brand-spanking new lieutenant who was so new I “squeaked when I walked,” or so said my company commander at the time. I was assigned to be platoon leader and taken to meet my platoon sergeant, a man old enough to be my father who had spent more years in service than I had even been alive. After a quick introduction, I was told to take charge of the platoon and get them to work. In other words, I was supposed to give orders to my old-enough-to-be-my-dad platoon sergeant, tell him what to do with the troops, where to send them, when they had to be there, etc.

Now I know some current VTCC cadets are reading these cartoons. Do you guys have any idea how stupid it feels to be told to give orders to someone who obviously knows waaaaaaaaaay more about the military than you do? No? You’ll find out if you graduate and get your commission. I felt pretty dumb that day giving orders to my platoon sergeant. Fortunately, he was a very patient man, and very easy to work with, and very good at his job. Just as fortunately, I knew I needed to listen to him as much as possible because as a new lieutenant, my capacity for fucking things up was pretty high.

Any way, the moral of the story is, watch who you salute, but be aware that many of the people you’re not supposed to salute are the ones with the most experience and the most knowledge. Respect those people, regardless of your own rank.

ACW Episode 60 – War and Peace

Seriously, I have issues with squirrels.

Earlier this year I took up backyard bird watching as a sort of informal hobby. I have a couple of birding books, a pair of binoculars that are just strong enough to let me peek in the neighbors’ windows see what’s going on in my own backyard and of course, a bird feeder loaded with black sunflower seed.

Plus three big fat honkin’ squirrels.

The original big fat honkin’ squirrel is a regular in our yard and was dubbed Lardo the Big-Butt squirrel because he liked to gorge himself pretty regularly at our feeder. A few months ago, he was joined by two friends, one of whom the kids have taken to calling Buffalo Butt, and the other of whom has so far remained nameless beyond me occasionally calling him “YOU *@#!ING SQUIRREL!” All three of these rotund little beasties seem to think I’m putting out bird feed for them and not the birds. WRONG!

In my ongoing campaign against the squirrels, I’ve tried a lot of different tactics. At first, I bought a baffle for the feeder pole, because that’s how the squirrels were getting into the feeder. They’d just shimmy up the pole, reach over to the feeder and dump a ton of seeds on the ground, emptying the whole damn thing within a couple of hours of me filling it. The pole baffle worked for a few months.

Then the little menaces discovered they could bypass the pole entirely by climbing up a nearby tree instead and jumping over to the arm the feeder hangs from. Due to the layout of the yard, there really isn’t any place to put the feeder that wouldn’t be close to a tree, so I couldn’t simply move it to defeat the squirrels. Instead, I tried making additional homemade baffles to put on the feeder arm – toilet paper tubes, which I had hoped would roll the moment a squirrel stepped on them and toss the critters off; a 2 liter soda bottle with the bottom cut off, slid over the cord the feeder hangs by, which I had hoped would prevent the squirrels from climbing down the cord to get to the feeder; an inverted milk jug, again with the bottom cut off, that I hoped would trap the squirrels inside when they came down the cord. None of it worked.

It got to the point where I’d stand at my dining room window, watching the feeder for invading squirrels, then beat on the glass and shout obscenities to scare the bloody things away. But eventually the squirrels learned to ignore even that.

There was no doubt about it. I was losing the war. But then a couple of weeks ago, I found a new squirrel-proof feeder. It’s a long, skinny, plexiglass-glass box encased in a wire frame. The plexiglass-glass box has little windows cut into it so the birds can get at the food, and the wire frame has perches on it for the birds to sit on while they eat. Oh, and the frame has these lovely decorative metal leaves on it, one just above each window. And the wire frame hangs on the box by a pair of springs…

Basically, what happens is this. The birds can sit on the perches and eat, but if Lardo and Co. clamber on, their big fat squirrelly behinds make the wire frame slide down so that the metal leaves cover the windows, effectively shutting them out of the feeder. I’ve seen this in action five times now, and so far it works like a charm. Lardo, Buffalo Butt and That *@#!ing Squirrel spend several minutes hanging on the wire frame trying to figure out how to get to the food, only to give up when they realize the birdie breakfast bar is closed to them.

So for now, I’m winning The War Against The Squirrels. To ensure there are no hard feelings, I’ve started putting out ears of dried corn in a handy little squirrel feeder. I don’t mind feeding the squirrels, you see. I just don’t want them in my bird feeder scaring off all the birds.

Of course now we’ve got some ducks that keep wandering through the backyard and raiding the squirrel feeder every time I turn around. I haven’t found a way to keep them out yet, but honestly, I don’t really care. Lardo and Company can fend for themselves. I’m sure they’ll figure out how to repel these new invaders.

Rats! Episode 10 – Watch Your Step

No joke. Freshmen cadets were not allowed to use the stairs to exit Shultz dining hall. We always came down into the dining hall via the stairs, after being marched in through the front doors. But when it came time to leave, we could only exit through the back doors. This forced all the rats to take the long way back to the cadet dorms, and it was always a race to see who would get there first – the rats or the upper classmen. Rats weren’t allowed to run unless we were in our gym clothes, but we sure as hell learned how to walk very, very fast.

On those rare days when the rats decided we didn’t feel like going the long way (and when there weren’t enough upper classmen around to stop us), we would rush en mass up the stairs, running over some poor upper classman in the process. I can only recall doing this once as a rat, and we got into trouble for it, but as I recall we ran over our cadet first sergeant so it was worth it.

Other fun insanity that took place in Shultz dining hall. If an upper classman was sitting at the table, we had to ask him or her permission to sit (and we had to be sure to ask the highest ranking upper classman by name and rank, or we’d get in trouble). Also, rats had to wear bibs to every meal. Each company’s rats were expected to buy baby bibs, decorate them, and put them on when we sat down at the table. If you didn’t have your bib, you were in trouble, and so was every other rat sitting with you (that’s the way it always was – if one rat was in trouble, all rats were in trouble).

Another thing, we had to eat sitting at attention. This was usually only during breakfast and dinner, when the entire company marched to the dining hall together after formation. I hated sitting at attention to eat. It meant I had to stare straight ahead at some other rat, who was staring straight back at me. It was extremely hard not to burst out laughing sometimes because the whole damn affair was so stupid, and because some of my male buds looked pretty funny with their heads shaved.

I also recall that the rats in our company (Hotel Company, for anyone who’s interested) had to come up with a company song, and we had to sing it, standing on our chairs in the dining hall. I think I still remember that song too.

H Company was marching just the other day!
And we saw First Sergeant Phillips, we had something to say!
We said “Hey First Sergeant Phillips, man what’s up with you!”
And here is what First Sergeant started to do!

He said,
“Beat! Your face! Beat, beat your face!”
(Uh-huh!)
“Beat! Your face! Beat, beat your face!”
(Uh-huh!)

Or something like that. First Sergeant Phillips was actually Cadet First Sergeant Phillips, a man who was dedicated to making our lives a living hell. He was very good at his job. The phrase “Beat your face!” means “Get down in the push up position and crank out push ups until I say stop!” It was something Cadet First Sergeant Phillips said quite frequently.

I don’t know if the rats all still eat at Shultz dining hall, or if they still have to wear bibs or stand on their chairs to sing songs, but that’s what we had to do waaaaaaay back when.

ACW Episode 60 – Sometimes you need a little inspiration

Sometimes, when writing, a gal needs a little inspiration. A little visual inspiration, if you know what I mean…

I will admit, I have searched the internet for porn and erotica, both for writing and art, and at times out of simple boredom. Occasionally, I’ve come across things that have surprised me, but these days I’m more often surprised by what comes out of my own fingertips when I type.

I’m not a huge fan of porn. There’s this age old argument amongst erotica writers about what the difference is between porn and erotica. Some say porn has no plot, no characterization, no point, where as erotica has all these things. Some folks say porn and erotica are the same thing, but porn is what other people watch while erotica is what the writer creates.

I say this. Erotica is a genre that looks at sex and its related issues and how these things affect people’s lives. Every day, we make choices with regards to sex. Should we have it or not today? With whom? And why? If we buy this toothpaste, will we really look as sexy as the girl in the commercial? If I sleep with this guy, will I finally be happy/fulfilled/not so damned bored with my life? And so on. These are the stories I enjoy writing, and the ones I most enjoy reading. And when it comes to more visual material, I kind of feel the same way, although being a visual creature, a picture of a naked man engaged in illicit pursuits of any kind is still going to jump start the sexual center of my brain.

Anyway, that’s my take on erotica vs. porn. Ask around. You’ll find that other people’s definitions will vary, and who’s to say who’s right and who’s wrong? Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to do some research for a story…

Rats! Episode 09 – Good Morning Sunshine!

Ah, first call to formation. How well I recall performing that lovely little duty. First call was essentially the wake up call freshman made to let everyone know that formation was coming up. Basically, all the rats met in one room in the company area to argue over who’s turn it was to perform first call. Then one poor rat was shoved out into the hall where he had to drag to one end, stand at attention, and shout as loud as he could…

“First call to formation, Sir!”

“First call to formation, Sir!”

“First call to formation, Sir!”

Three times in a row, just like that. Then the rat took off dragging and escaped back into the room. About 5-10 minutes later, he came back out again to call “Last call to formation, Sir!” During first call, there might be a few upper classmen out in the hallway, waiting to be spoken up to. By last call, frikkin’ everybody was out there. As soon as last call was made, all the rats came pouring out to line up along one wall, where they were then chewed out for whatever god-forsaken reason the upper classmen came up with that morning. Sometimes the cadet first sergeant would just lay in with a very vigorous speech about how lousy we all were and how we’d better straighten up. Other times, it seemed like every upper classman in the company pounced on us, conducting on the spot inspections and drilling us for new cadet knowledge. New cadet knowledge, by the way, was trivia we all had to study about the VTCC and Virginia Tech. To this day I can still tell you which building on campus serves as a compass (Burruss Hall), and the names of all the Pylons on the Drill Field (Brotherhood, Ut Prosim, Loyalty, Leadership, Service, Sacrifice, Honor, Duty). I cannot recall though how many alumni went on to receive Medals of Honor for their military service, nor all the names of the university presidents. Some stuff was just bound to leak out my ears eventually, I suppose.

I was hardly a stranger to early mornings when I joined the VTCC. My high school had an early seventh period which I took advantage of to earn extra credits toward my diploma. In fact, being able to wake up and get moving early in the AM was probably the only advantage I had as a rat. I hated it, but I could do it, and I could get to where I needed to be on time, regardless of the hour of the morning. Many upper classmen did sleep in, so it was always kind of fun in a mean way to have to wake them up early on mornings when we knew they had planned to sleep late.

BTW, I’ve been getting emails and feedback on the “Rats!” cartoons from a lot of former and current cadets. Thank you all for visiting and reading these cartoons. Be forewarned though. You see the logo at the top of the web? The one that has this cartoon of a woman with horns and says “Cynical Woman: Stay-at-home Mom and Erotica Writer?” Yeah, I’m not kidding about that. That’s me as I am today. If you’re only here for the “Rats!” cartoons, be careful poking around the rest of the site. I am far from politically correct, and I take my smut writing very seriously. Well, as seriously as I can. I do cartoon about that too, and if you’re interested, you can see those cartoons here.

ACW Episode 59 – Huzzah! It’s Monday!

This happens to me all too often. I look forward to Mondays because Monday is my first opportunity to work without interruption after a weekend of screaming kids and Hubster (Hubster does not scream, but he does keep me busy on the weekends). I enjoy my time with my family, but I do need time to work, so by the time Monday comes around, I’m usually chomping at the bit to get started. Then wouldn’t you know it? One of the kids is sick, there’s a doctor’s appointment to go to, Hubster decides to work at home which always completely disrupts my routine…

The last couple of weeks’ worth have been totally eaten by sick kids, sick me, and doctor appointments. And yesterday, when I thought I’d finally have the house to myself to work, Pixie came down with a fever. It’s been frustrating, I tell ya. I do most of my writing in the evenings after the kids are asleep and while Hubster is busy up in the office, but I still need a couple hours during the day to handle email, finances, story critiques, website updates, blogging, etc. If I don’t get that time, those tasks start to build up fast, and pretty soon I find myself staying up all hours of the night just to keep up. I hate it!

I recently read an article on author Jodi Picoult, a woman who’s written 17 novels in 18 years (and no, I haven’t read a single one of her books). She gets up at the crack of dawn, goes for a three mile walk, and then works until 3PM when her kids get home. I started to think, “Man! Wouldn’t that be great, to just write for six or seven hours straight? Think how much writing I’d get done! I wish I had her schedule.” Then I read that she gets 200 fan emails a day and she personally responds to all of them, and suddenly I realized I pretty much do have her work schedule. Not with the 200 fan emails a day of course (though I wouldn’t complain about that). But Jodi Picoult is also handling those same minor tasks that eat up so much of a writer’s time, and if she has kids, I’m betting she also has days where she’s got to take care of a sick child or spend all day in the doctor’s office instead of at her desk writing. And yet she still gets stuff done.

And I get stuff done too. A short story a week, two web comics, commissions for my computer graphics business, etc. In spite of all the juggling, it does all somehow get done.

Huzzah, it’s Tuesday. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to work!

Rats! Episode 08 – What do you say to that?!

And this week’s cartoon pretty much sums up everything in the previous seven episodes – uncomfortable uniforms, mandatory football game attendance, required show of spirit, and bad haircuts all around. Plus evil upper classmen having fun at the rats’ expense.

But it was all good. I recall the above incident actually happening, though I can’t say if I was a rat at the time or an upper classmen. I just know it happened, and it struck me as funny.

I do believe this is the last of the 2×2 format comics. I know I’ve said that before, and then continued uploading more 2×2 comics. I have no idea why I went with 2 panels across by 2 rows down. Where on earth did I get the idea for that format? It certainly looked like nothing I ever saw in a newspaper. I have no idea how the Collegiate Times worked around my idiotic formatting choice, but they did, and they never sent me any nasty-grams about it, so I am forever grateful to them for that. They were very patient with me, and mercifully criticism-free to a newbie comic artist.

What really puzzles me is the format and quality of the cartoons that follow. You’ll see what I mean next week. I know that the 2×2 cartoons were the first ones I drew and the first ones that ran in the CT. After that, I have a hard time establishing what order the cartoons ran in. I spent an evening or two sorting through all the strips I had, and was able to sort them into Year 01, Year 02, etc. But I can’t necessarily say I got them in the correct order beyond that. I do know that the artwork suddenly started to look a lot better, probably because I found a different pen to ink with and because I got better at erasing my pencil lines. But for some reason, I never seemed to stick with the same kind of pen or paper for too long. You’ll see examples of what I mean as we get further along.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this week’s episode. Next week, we get more into the day-to-day details of life as a rat!