May the Porgs be with you. And with your Wookiee.

Ahch-To caretakers are doing it for themselves.

What just happened? Is it all a dream from having a Puppy dropped on me? Or is it an exclusive sneak peek into The Last Jedi?

Let me give you some backstory. This picture was included with Entertainment Weekly’s preview of Star Wars: The Last Jedi:

Ahch-To caretakers from The Last Jedi.

(Image from EW.com)

I hurried to alert my bestie @glitzob that there were characters relevant to our interests, hers being an in-progress Star Wars/Dinosaurs crossover fanfiction, mine being everything she writes. She declared it a selfie of the two of us, and I have to agree.

This Friday, I hope you all enjoy our flick. Some other things might go on, but I’ll be watching for Missus Horticulture and Missus Horchata.

She’ll always be royalty to me.

As if millions of voices suddenly cried out.

“No matter how I go, I want it reported that I drowned in moonlight, strangled by my own bra.”  — Carrie Fisher

I suppose you want to hear the mall story. You don’t drop a line into a comic like that without some backstory. It’s actually two tales; first I took a wrong turn in the Galleria and totally misplaced my family. Clutching Leia, I walked all over that damn mall until I found them. But who hasn’t done that?

I was the kind of kid who was convinced I’d be taken away if anyone knew what I was really like. At the time, I had no idea what Carrie Fisher herself was going through. But pretending Imperials were storming places and we had to get away helped. Strange how that works. I carried Leia around for strength. We had epic talks. Mostly about where the hell Han was.

We were sitting on the edge of a bedding display at Sears one day when a bored kid came over and hit me in the back, perhaps prophetically, with a Disney record. He took Leia and stripped off her clothes while I stood there and twitched a lot.

I was not the type of kid who would fight someone, I was the type of kid who would go home and cry. But that day I stood there and, shaking, asked, “Can I have her back?”

He threw the doll at my face. She bounced off my chin, but I got her back, dammit. And the civilian clothes I dressed her in, too. She preferred the clothes I’d put on her. I even almost tamed the hair. But the hair cannot be tamed, as we’ve all learned.

We had a lot of adventures.  My first dog tipped a couch over on me to get to my Princess Leia doll. It is heartbreaking that Carrie Fisher left her dog Gary here on Earth with us, her family, her friends, and her fans, but I hope if she needs a dog to hug, she finds the shaggy blonde one tipping couches to get to her. He loves hugs. I also hope Gary gets that bacon-covered bone he wanted.

I drew this yesterday, listening to The Princess Diarist as read by the author. Carrie Fisher got me through so much in life, and the glitter she left behind will get us through this.

Love you forever, Carrie Fisher.

An Old Hope.

20041105

I am a Star Wars fan.

Not that I usually sit around wearing my rubber Amidala headgear, but today…today I saw stuff that made me remember why I like Star Wars. The teaser for Episode III was released today which was the only reason I had MTV on this afternoon. How anyone watches TRL, I’ll never know…wacky kids. Anyway, I have fond memories of Star Wars trailers past, and this one fits right in under the Episode I trailers, just above the Episode II trailer that was shown before The X-Files and slightly to the left of When Senators Attack.

If you needed any more of an example of my love for Star Wars, the nondescript thing that changes sides over my shoulders in the strip? Padawan braid. It changes sides in the strip as a homage to my beloved Obi-Wan…no, really. It isn’t that I forget what side it’s on…really. I grew the first one in 1999, cut it off last year, and let it grow back, because not only did I miss the silly thing, people asked me where it went. (It went someplace special. Maybe one day I’ll get drunk and do a three-month long arc about the adventures of the braid. Maybe not. It would take an outrageous amount of liquor, and I’d probably fall on the floor before I could reach a pencil.)

I probably shouldn’t have shown Leia the trailer, however…she hasn’t spoken to me since. Not that she talks to me much anymore; ever since my dog tried to eat her and I let that kid in Sears take her clothes off, there’s a void between us.

Yes, I really do have a Leia doll and I took her everywhere with me in the ’80s and yes, my dog loved her. So much that he tipped a couch onto me to get to her. Those were the days, man. I wish I could remember where she left her socks. Wild times.