May Wordle

The Boy's Brother - A Contest

This morning The Boy was telling me a story all about his brother.
The Boy's description of his brother was so detailed and fantastic that
1) it totally made my day to hear him describe it, and
2) I wish I could draw so I could have on paper what it looks like.

I know that there are plenty of you that can draw better than I can so I'm having a contest.

Here's the contest -
I'm going to describe what The Boy told me about his brother, and you are going to create an image of him.

Here's the Prize -
The prize for the best entry will be, ummm, something I have thought of yet, but mark my words,it'll be great (at least according to me.)  It'll be a physical object I will mail to you (or give to you if I know you and you live close) and only slightly more valuable than bragging rights. In other words, I might make something or give you something I have in my house but am not going to spend any of my own money on it, PLUS I'll announce the winner on my blog, thus ensuring your place in the pages of my blog, if not my heart.

How to Submit -
Submissions should be either given to me directly if you know me and see me often enough, mailed to me if you know my address (which I'm not posting so you'll just have to know it already) or emailed to hulasunset@gmail.com. Submissions should be received no later than my level of tolerance for receiving submissions. In other words, when I feel I'm done taking submissions, I'm done, and the contest is over. If you see that I've posted the winner's entry on my blog, you can take that as fact that the contest has ended. If I tell you the contest is over, it's over. If I decide it's over and don't tell you it's over, it's still over. Contest ends at my whim.

Submission Description -
You can submit a photo, a painting, a drawing, a collage, a sculpture, shoebox diarama or anything else along those lines.

The Description of The Boy's BrotherI'm not sure if it was his little brother or his big brother. The Boy wasn't too sure either. He also wasn't too sure if I was his brother's mother, but maybe I was. It didn't seem to matter to him. It was his brother nonetheless.
His Brother is a wolf.
He has a tail where his nose should be.
The Wolf is brown, like The Boy (which is super funny because The Boy is a blond-haired and blue-eyed. He's beige if anything, but I couldn't change his mind. His brother was brown like him.)
His butt is in the middle of his shoulder blades, so is his nose. His butt and his nose share the same hole and it's located on his back between his shoulder blades. To poop, he sneezes out his backhole. He poops on leaves that have fallen from trees. The Boy demonstrated this for me. It' looked a lot like "banana" from "Superman / Banana" from Tony Horton's P90x series. See pose below of some woman demonstrating"banana."

The Wolf eats what all wolves eat which is a steady diet of dead cats and spiders (either live or dead, The Wolf does not discriminate.)
He is very nice, and a very good brother and he's nice to our cat, but the cat has to move away and go live with The Boy's girlfriend named Summer (not sure if Summer is real or not.)
--End of Description.


Happy creating everybody. I can't wait to see what y'all come up with.

The Big Spider - a dream

This morning I told The Kiddies about a dream I had had that morning.

Hubby and I were in bed about to go to sleep. I noticed on the wall on Hubby's side of the room was a GIANT spider. Its body was oval and about 2 feet long and its legs were even longer. It was a weird tan color. I could hear the 'click click click' as it walked across the wall. I pointed it out to Hubby. He just shrugged and said "oh, it's back again" then turned over and went to sleep.

The Girl asked me what did I do? What happened to the spider? The Boy interjected and said that he entered my dream and killed the spider for me.

I'm Full Now - a book review

I read The Hunger Games a few weeks ago, all three books.

I think I took a bit longer to read it than most people. Most people I've heard about reading these books tore through them. The Girl tore through them pretty quickly. I tore through it, kinda, but it wasn't because the story was so gripping I just had to read more. I read through it quickly because it wasn't too difficult a read. I mean, it wasn't like trying to get through Moby Dick or War and Peace or anything.

I thought the premise was interesting and I hadn't read anything quite like it in a while. Overall, it was a fun book to read and a nice diversion to get me through my commute to and from work.

It's about this girl who lives in a North American type area, except it isn't the USA. The government has totally taken over and all the districts, sort of like states, and they exist to keep the capitol happy, entertained and well stocked. To keep the districts down, they make the teenagers kill each other and everyone has to watch. This festival of dying teenagers is called "The Hunger Games."

This girl takes care of her mom and sister, kills animals for food and hangs out with this guy who pretty much does the same thing. She's good with weapons, he's good with traps. He digs her, but she's wishy-washy and doesn't know if she likes him back. Her sister is chosen to compete in the Hunger Games and she takes the sister's place. There's another person from her district that is chosen to compete. Over the course of the game they become friends with benefits but surprise surprise, she can't decide if she really likes him or the other guy. This theme is played out throughout the series and it gets tiring. Choose already. Cut one or both of them loose. In the end one of the guys chooses for her, says adios and gets work in another district. My guess is that he finds someone less whiny. She chooses the other guy because he's a sad sack who stays behind and by her side.

Oh and in the course of this girl whining about her boy troubles, she manages to kill a few people, befriend an alcoholic, stay alive, start a revolution and topple a government.

Super Cat and The Dolma Principle

I was going through old blog posts that I had never published and found this little gem written about 6 months ago. I don't remember what prompted me to write it. Usually there's a trigger. Can't recall what it was. I have to admit I did some editing and grammar correcting, but it's pretty much untouched from when I first wrote it.

Enjoy --

When I was in the 5th grade I had to write and make a book. I had to write a story, illustrate it, then make a book. I had to sew the paper together then attach it to the cover made out of cardboard and wallpaper samples.

I remember the stitch the teacher made us use to sew the pages together. I told her that my mom had taught me an easier one that looked the same and served the same purpose and tried to show it to her. She told me that she knew a bit more about sewing than my mom and I should just shut up and use her stitch. I told her that (up to that point in my life) I had never owned a store-bought blanket. All I had were hand-made quilts from my mom. She told me not to be a smart-ass and sent me on my way. (One time when I sprained my knee this same teacher didn't like the way my mom had put on the ace bandage and re-bandaged it. When I told her that that wasn't the way my mom did it she told me she knew a bit more about bandaging knees than my mom did. I told her my mom was an RN and not a 5th grade teacher so my mom knew more about bandages. She told me not to be a smart ass and sent me on my way.)

Anyhow, the book I wrote was called "Super Cat Saves the Onion Fields." (I don't have it anymore. When I was in high school my friend E and I traded elementary school projects for fun. She got my book and I got her project "Uruguay: Land of Discovery." I still have her Uruguay project. I wonder if she still has the Super Cat book.) The book was about a cat who was really really into body building. One day he got a package filled with a cape and boots from a mysterious source and was told that he was to become a super-hero for one very important mission. He was to save the Onion Fields from a group of Mean Men. The dangerous part of the mission was that since kids hate onions, they would most likely throw rocks at him while he was flying to the fight the Mean Men. The night before he was to save the Onion Fields Super Cat snuck into the bedrooms of the children who had the potential to hate him and sprinkled happy potion on them. Super Cat was then able to save the Onion Fields from the Mean Men and the kids still liked him. The End.

So I've been thinking about hate the last week or so. I remember when I was in the 2nd grade I was playing soccer and I told one team mate that I hated another team mate. I don't think I really hated her. I don't even remember her. I think I was just trying to be cool by saying I hated someone.

A short time later we had a lesson at school about hate. We were taught that when one hates another, one wishes all sorts of physical, spiritual and emotional harm to fall upon the one hated. It means that one doesn't care if the other is hurt, is injured, dies. When I learned that it really freaked me out and I vowed never to hate anyone, ever. I still feel this way. I don't remember who taught that lesson, but point taken. No hating.

We all have our own weird prejudices. We all grow up learning how to hate. We learn it from TV, our parents, our schools, society in general. As screwed up as it is, it's true. Some people hate groups of people from other races, some hate people with different philosophies or religion, some hate people based on how they identify themselves. Those are all stupid reasons to hate. I once knew a lady who, as far as I could tell had no prejudices towards people of different races, beliefs, nationality, etc., but she had this penchant for hating people who didn't follow the latest fashion trends. Another stupid, but really odd reason to hate.
I have been known to proclaim that I hate dolmas. They're slimy, they stink, they have a weird aftertaste, they look weird. Is hate for a particular food really hate? Can one harbor malice towards a food? Hating a certain food doesn't mean I think dolma production should cease. I hold no malice towards those who make dolmas for a living. You won't find me at the office of my local dolma distributor with a can of gasoline and a lit match demanding they cease production lest their dolma distribution network be blown into smithereens. The rest of the world is free to eat my portion of dolmas, and I'm happy to live in a dolma-free state of being, politely turning down any dolma offered to me be it on a deli platter or at a buttet. I guess instead of saying I hate dolmas I should just say I think they are really really vile but I recognize that others may see value and deliciousness in this Mediterranean culinary offering. More dolmas for them.
Can the same principle be applied to people? I've met plenty of people I don't want to spend anytime with. It's more of a personality thing than any other quality. They whine too much. They complain too much. They're too pious about their opinions and think everyone else is stupid. I don't hate them. I don't wish them harm. I just don't want to be around them.
There are people at work I don't wish to know socially. It doesn't mean I hate any of them. It doesn't mean I can't be courteous to them or work with them on a team with, complete a project with.  It just means that I don't want to spend any time with them when I'm not being paid to do so.  And oh my gosh, it's possible (gasp!) that someone may not find me the most agreeable person and not like me. As crazy as it sounds, it just might be true; I may not be everyone's cuppa tea.  There may just be things about me that rubs someone the wrong way. Imagine that.

I think that everyone has something to offer. You just have to be patient enough and strong enough to dig through all the muck to find it. Perhaps the whiner and I like the same books. Perhaps the complainer and I both like to watch Romantic Comedys. Perhaps I will run across a dolma lover who hates raddishes. I love raddishes. We each will have something to give to each other. We can both find value in each other through our likes and dislikes.

I try to teach my kids that you don't have to like everyone, but you do have to treat everyone with the same respect you want to be shown (how golden rule of me, eh?) You don't have to be friends with everyone but you should be friendly to everyone.

Don't be a jerk is what it boils down to. That's the Dolma Principle - Don't be a jerk.

April Wordle

A little late posting the April Wordle. Looks like I wasn't very prolific in April. Only two posts to contribute to the wordle. I LOVE that it says COFFEE in big bold letters.

Enjoy

Drinking Coffee for Two

There's this podcast I listen to on occasion called Stuff You Should Know. I like it. Two nerdy guys (ok, but totally nerdy in a kinda hot way) explain concepts and activities that on the surface may seen kinda off or boring but usually turn out to be pretty interesting. What got me hooked was the one about ticks. What got me really hooked was the one about biospeleology. Who knew that I'd find the one about cave biology interesting?
Anyhow, sometimes they go off on little tangents talking about topics only slightly related to the featured subject matter.  Once such tangent was about the term Cuppa Joe. Doing some half-ass research I found that the term cuppa joe has a few supposed origins. The one that popped up the most was that the secretary of the navy during WW1 named Josephus Daniels banned alcohol on navy ships. The sailors started calling their coffee a cuppa joe as a result.
That's not the explanation I got from the SYSK guys, and I like their version better so that's the one I'm going to say is true, simply because I like it better. Brittish drink tea. Americans drink coffee. Brits in WW2 started calling coffee "joe" after GI Joe. Cuppa Joe. Of course the SYSK guys explained it better, more colorfully and with a few more words than me, but you get the idea.

My doctor gave me a list of things that I can and can't eat now that I'm eating and drinking for two. In my opinion there are some smart things on the list as well of some stupid things, but that's another blog post for another time. This one's about coffee.

According to the medical practice I go to, I'm allowed to have up to 200 mg of caffeine a day. I started thinking about my caffeine consumption. Some days it's more, some days it's less, but in a nutshell, the below describes my coffee drinking habits.

My pre-pregnancy coffee drinking habit
If Hubby or The Girl make coffee before I get out of bed I'll pour myself a cup, take a big gulp, leave my cup on the counter or coffee table, get ready for work, realize I poured myself a cup of coffee, go get it, find it cold, thus undrinkable, give it a warm up, take a gulp, put it down and forget about it until I get home and see my almost full cup and I think "oh, I forgot about my coffee."
If Hubby or The Girl do not make coffee, I go to the little bakery across the street from my muni stop and get an 8oz cup of the worst brown water I've ever had, thinking it'll get me through until I get some real coffee in me. I take a few sips then pour out the rest when the train comes.
Whether I have coffee at home or before I get on the train, I make myself a cup when I get to work. I have a few sips, then get to working. I forget about my coffee, it gets cold and I throw it away.
In the afternoon I make myself a cuppa tea, usually darjeeling. I set it on my desk. I let it seep too long and I have to pour it out, or I steep it just the right amount, drink half, then forget about it, it gets cold and I dump it.
All in all, I think I get about 1/2 cup, if that, of coffee in me a day.

I think my pre-pregnancy coffee drinking habit is just fine and I don't need to make any changes.

The Slumber Party - A Dream

They say that when you're pregnant you have some interesting dreams. Here's one I had this morning.

I went to The Girl's friend's house to pick her up from a slumber party. When I arrived, her friend's house was totally trashed by the kids at the party. I started helping out by cleaning the room where The Girl had slept. While cleaning up her stuff I saw my $11. I went into the living room to talk to someone for a minute, then when I went back into the room where The Girl had slept, her stuff was all cleaned up and my $11 was gone. I went into the kitchen. I saw my $11 on a shelf. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. Someone saw me do it and thought I was stealing, so I put it back. Then The Girl's friend's dad starting yelling at his two Brazillian sons to get into the kitchen and help. They set a little mini factory in the kitchen and started making fudge, all kinds, even savory fudge like sun-dried tomato fudge. Then Magic Johnson came up to me and told me that being pregnant has really messed up my skin, then I noticed I had broken out with a fresh garden of acne all over my face.

March Wordle

I only posted one time in March? Gee whizzers.

Ritual Rain in Kapalakiko

I know this to be true: It never rains on hula night.
Don't ask me how. Just take me at my word. I know a lot of strange things and that which I don't know is rarely filled in with inaccuracies; hyperbole for sure, but never lies.


It may rain day of. It may rain after I get home. It may even rain during class, but it's never rained going to class or coming home - until last Wednesday.

As I was driving to class in the rain I thought 'this has got to be a sign.' Turns out it was.

Last class Kumu talked about (and I'm paraphrasing, not using his words exactly) that we've kind of found ourselves in a hula rut. Week after week we follow the same pattern; we go to class, warm up, dance, have table time, dance and then we go home. We have become lazy about showing up on time. We aren't fully present while in class.

What was once ritual has become routine.

I totally agree. Sometimes I miss class because I have a legitimate reason - I'm away for work or Hubby has a deadline on a story he has to get out and can't watch the kiddies. Sometimes I don't have a good excuse and just feel like playing hooky or watching The Middle. Sometimes my absence falls into a gray area of legitimate. I spend so much time at work and sometimes have overnight trips that I feel guilty for not spending enough time with my kids. Hubby says it's fine and I should go to class, but sometimes I just can't tear myself away from my babies.

Missing class hurts. It hurts me because I miss out on a night of practice, a night of instruction, a night of spending time with a great group of people I wouldn't ever have gotten to know were it not for hula. Not going to class hurts the rest of the class as well. I notice when people are missing. I'm sad when people leave. We need to be able to feed off of each other and dance as one. We can't do that when parts of us are missing. Going to class to learn from Kumu doesn't just make us better dancers. It makes us stronger as a class.

It's something I've come to count on. It's something I've come to crave. There's an intangible "something" I miss when I'm not in class.

Last Wednesday's rain washed away the routine and gave us the opportunity to start anew.

Going forward I'm excited to be able to say "it never rains on hula night, except for that one time . . . . "

February Wordle

Grains and Tony Bordain - A Dream

*

 Last night I had a dream I was spending a week at Tony Bordain's beach house. It was New Year's Eve.  A lot of people were with me. In my dream I knew them but I can't remember who they are now. Tony Bordain had a crush on me. I was thinking that I should write him a thank-you note for letting me crash at his beach house all week. I made a side salad. It was made from some kind of grain. When cooked it was black and white. It sort of looked like a cross between quinoa and cooked wild rice. In the side salad I added some bleu cheese cut in 1" squares and some kind of fruit. I also added some chopped up romaine lettuce. I tried and tried but I couldn't get the salad to mix together. The grains kept clumping in one end of the giant lexan container I made the salad in. I got annoyed with not being able to mix the salad so I put a little bit of each component of the salad onto a big spoon and gave it to Tony Bordain to try. He said he liked it so much he was going to add it to the menu of his restaurant. He handed me a piece of paper and told me to write the recipe exactly on the spot he was pointing to on the paper. I tried to write the recipe on that spot but I ran out of room and gave Tony Bordain an incomplete recipe. He still had a crush on me, though.

* I took this picture of Tony Bordain. It was at a restaurant in the complex by the building I work in. A coworker and I sat outside the restaurant and listened to him answer questions from an audience who paid a lot of money to eat a meal in a restaurant at the same time as him then listen to him speak. My co-worker and I brought our own lunches and saw the whole thing for free.

Hey Pablo! -- a dream last night

I had a dream about Paul Rodriguez last night. When I mentioned it to hubby he said "that's enough, I don't need to hear any more." I tried to tell him it wasn't that kind of dream, but he didn't want to hear about it. I told him anyways. He turned up the volume on the TV but I kept talking. The TV has a finite volume. I don't.

We were in San Francisco but the location was sort of like a cross between The Embarcadero around where Red's Java House is and the parking lot at Palo Verde and Stearns in Long Beach, but not how it looks now. It looked more like when the old Taco Bell was there and before Tom's Liquor was razed. I was walking with this woman who used to work in my office. Don't know why she was in my dream. We never really talked to each other. Our departments hardly ever crossed paths. We were friendly to each other, but didn't hang out or anything. Anyways, this woman and I were walking through the weird parking lot and I spotted Paul Rodriquez. I said "Hey, you're Paul Rodriquez, what are you doing here." He said "Yes, I am. I'm making a commercial for El Faro." Then he walked over to a group of men and started talking to them. As he was walking over I yelled "Dude, you should do a commercial for Gordo's. They make way better burritos. Hey, can I get a picture?" Then he totally ignored me. He was talking to the El Faro ad guys and didn't want to talk to me because he thought I was dissing El Faro, which I wasn't. I just like Gordo's better.

Cats, Banana Sam and Taking the Kiddies at Their Word

When The Girl was about 3 years old I heard her ask from the other room "Mom, can I be a cat?" Thinking that she was going to crawl along the floor, saying meow, rubbing the side of her face against the furniture and pretending to scratch the furniture, I said "Sure, you can be a cat."
A few minutes later I found her sitting on the living room floor with an orange Sharpie in her hand, drawing stripes all along her arms, legs and belly.
I had only myself to blame. I did, in fact, say she could be a cat.

Yesterday Hubby had a similar experience. The Boy LOVES wearing his backpack. Usually it's full of crayons, hotwheels and various things from the house he finds interesting. As Hubby and The Boy were leaving the house yesterday The Boy said "Daddy, I have monkeys in my backpack." Hubby, thinking The Boy's statement was just the odd chatter of a 3 year old boy, dismissed it. The Boy has been very interested in the story of Banana Sam, and that he was returned to the SF Zoo in a backpack. Perhaps Hubby was thinking The Boy was referring to that incident.

As it turns out, The Boy did, in fact, have monkeys in his backpack; two of them to be precise. He had stolen the salt and pepper shakers off the kitchen table. Now his backpack and all its contents are sufficiently seasoned.

January Wordle

Lisa

The Boy has a girlfriend and her name is Lisa.

Lisa is 1 year old but she's older than The Boy. She has red hair and blue eyes. Her dad's name is Stoodoo. Her favorite color is white. She doesn't have any pets.

I don't know where the idea of Lisa came from, but it seems to make him happy.

My Least Favorite Hula

Everyone hula dancer has her own "go-to" dance. Y'know, the one that if asked to dance hula they would say OK I'll dance "(insert favorite hula dance here)." And, y'know, I'm guessing everyone has a hula they really don't like to dance.

Last night towards the end of class Kumu pulled out a  makua lua hoʻohiluhilu kula  (my attempt at translating 'golden oldie'), Papalina Lahilahi. Then we danced some we learned in the last few years like Waikaloa, plus we danced some that we learned more recently like Pua 'Ahihi and Pua Lililehua.

I started thinking about all the dances I've learned during my time with my halau. Some of them I really really love. Some of them  . . . .  I was going to say 'some of them I don't like so much' but stopped myself. Some of them I need to get to know a bit better.

It would be wrong to say I don't like some of the dances. What is more appropriate is to say I don't know them well enough, I haven't practiced them enough. The reason I think I don't like some of the dances is because I don't know them. I don't have them pa'a. If I knew them, I'd like them.

I can't miss any weeks when we're learning a new hula. I need the first night when Kumu hands out the paper with the mele, goes through the lyrics and explains the kaona. I need each week we learn a new verse or two. If I miss it, even when I learn it later, every time we dance it I think "I missed the week we learned this" and it trips me up every single time. (Example - "i ka hunehune i ke kai" I missed the first week we started learning this dance. I can do it now, but I still think "i missed that week." every single time that line comes up.)

Those are the hulas I think I don't like, but not because the hulas are unlikeable. I don't like to dance them because I don't know them.

Then there are some dances that have particular steps that I just can't seem to get. I am in class, learning every single verse in class the first time it's taught and I still can't get it. Once in a while there are little glimpses of hope when I do get a particular step down. I think "I've got it. I love this hula now" then the next time comes around that we dance this particular hula and I miss the step. Like in the 'auana version of Aia la o Pele i Hawai`i in one part we go from huli hema to hula akau to huli hema and 'oniu. I can't keep up in that verse.

I know all it takes is practice and those hulas I need to get to know a bit better and I will become great friends.

I Never Could Get The Hang of Thursdays And I'm Blaming The Stupid Cat

I hate being annoyed awake. I hate when the first words out of my mouth in the morning are negative. It just sets the worst tone for the day. I'm blaming the cat.

Stupid cat.

He is a very sweet and patient cat, but he is a very stupid cat.

This morning, right before my alarm was scheduled to go off, the stupid cat started playing with something loud and crunchy. Batting it around the hallway, banging into walls. Stupid cat. I hate the tone it set for the day. Then The Kiddies woke up way too early and started fighting about stupid things and crying and making annoying noises. I stomped out into the living room and snapped at them. I felt bad the moment I did. It just made for a more annoying morning.Then Too Much Perfume Lady stood too close to me on the train. There was a long line at the Chinese bakery by my bus stop and too long a line at the Peet's Coffee at my Muni station for me to not be annoyed with. There weren't any good seats on the train because there were too many men "man-sitting." Because of delays in the tunnel I missed the shuttle to my office so I caught the F line. It was too crowded with tourists that wouldn't move to the back so there was a big cluster at the front door that nobody could get through. The condensation from my yogurt that I keep in the freezer and throw in my bag w/ the intention to eat it around 10am got all over my workbook for the test I have to take next Wednesday, and the worst part, it ruined the answer key. My cup of coffee didnt' take. I didn't pack a lunch so I have to buy one. I'm sick of the salad bar at both the employee cafeteria and the little market across the street. I'm certain there are wolves after me.

I have a feeling that none of this stuff would have bothered me so much if I hadn't had been woken up prematurely by the stupid cat playing with crunchy things.

Book Review - Set Phasers on Par-Tay!

The other day The Boy totally needed to get out of the house. He needed a good run. I asked him where he wanted to go. He promptly said "the playground with the train." At first I was a bit annoyed because we have to drive to 'the playground with the train,' and I wanted to walk him down to Ocean Beach and run him there. After grumbling a little bit I said I'd take him there but being that 'the playground with the train' has a library pretty close to it, we had to take a short detour and got me a few books to read. He was amenable to that plan of action. I got two books.

I shouldn't be reading for fun. I should be studying as I have a test next Wednesday that I need to pass. I took it last June and failed miserably. I'm being given a great opportunity to be able to take this test again. I compromised  rationalized that I could read just one of the books and then start the other one on the train ride home from taking my test. By only reading one book I still had time to study for my test, especially since I had been to all the classes, taken the test before AND there are a few full-day review sessions next week before the test on Wednesday.

OK so it was probably a bad idea and bad rationalization on my part but I talked myself out of studying and in to reading my newly borrowed book. BEST DECISION OF MY LIFE!!!

The book I chose to read first was Night of the Living Trekkies by Kevin David Anderson. You can find the author's blog here.

 I frikkin' loved this book.

I started it Monday morning on the train on the way to work. By the time the train got to my stop I was hooked. When I got to work I looked it up online to see what was out there about the book. I was super excited to find the book had a movie-like trailer for it. Of course I watched it. When it was over I was even more hooked.

I finished the book yesterday on my way home. I kept waiting for someone to comment on the book and ask me how I was enjoying it so I could tell them the book was really freakin' enjoyable in a loud voice. Sadly, it never happened.

Night of the Living Trekkies is about this guy named Jim who after doing a few tours in Afghanistan decides to get a go-nowhere job in Houston, Texas. There's a Star Trek convention going on. At the start of the convention people who work at the hotel start calling in sick and hotel guests are acting weird and sick. Jim's spidey senses start tingling like something is wrong but he dismisses it. His sister shows up with her douche-bag boyfriend and a few of their friends. After the big Klingon feast funky things start happening. Jim goes into the security office to grab some tasers and a gun. He gets a sense of what's happening, all the people are shuffling around and taking bites out of each other. He finds a woman dressed like Princess Leia chained to a beg, frees her and then the two of them go out and try to figure out what's happening. They meet up with some kid on an abandoned floor, then find Jim's sister and her friends. The douche-bag has gotten way douchier and they abandon him. They find that the zombies had attacked one of their friends. She fights off her inner-zombie and tells Jim what the fuss is all about, then he shoots her. Turns out they aren't really zombies. They are parasites from some alien race trying to take over the world. At the end of the book they kill the alpha-zombie, kind of, and then Houston gets blown up. Lots of other stuff happens, but you get the gist of it. It's a pretty simple story, but super duper fun to read. I was on the edge of my fully-paid for seat on more than one occasion. I would recommend this book to any Star Trek fan, or any Zombie genre fan for that matter, but mostly I think the Star Trek fan would enjoy it more. I said it before but I'll say it again --

I FREAKIN' LOVED IT!

When I finished the book something dawned on me. None of my favorite lines from the book were in the trailer. That's not so weird I guess. I mean I don't think the line "It's raining. Quick, take off your clothes!" was uttered in the trailer for The Perils of Gwendolyn in the Land of the Yik Yak. Then it dawned on me that none of the crucial elements from the book, like how the zombies manifested themselves weren't in the trailer. Not even the main characters from the trailer match the main characters from the book. There was no girl dressed like Princess Leia in the trailer. There's a scene in the trailer when the guy dressed like the Klingon runs around the corner to save the day then comes back screaming like a girl. The Klingon in the book was a big 'ole wuss. There's no big fight scene next to an RV that's tricked out to look like a Federation Starship.
The trailer was really entertaining, and did get me to want to read the book even more, but it pissed me off that it didn't follow the plot of the movie.
Here's the trailer. Again, super entertaining, but different from the book.

December Wordle