Karina Cooper

Even Superman gets the blues by Darwin Bell

Most of the time, I can fake normal. Ask most people who know me, and they’ll tell you any number of anecdotes and epithets—good and bad—and a few might add, “She gets depressed now and again, but…” Because I can fake normal pretty well, and that “but” leaves lots of room to suggest that I’m either doing fine or not really depressed—not like, say, really depressed people. There’s no immediate threat of going off and doing something stupid—oh, like stepping out of a window or going to sleep and never waking up again. (True facts: falling from heights is terrifying. Like, seriously.)

Most of the time, even on the bad days, I can summon a sad smile and say, “It’s okay, just let me ride this out,” and that’s okay.

This is not that kind of time. (more…)

As you may or may not know, my mother works for the Red Cross—part of the Armed Forces Emergency Services. In short, this means that when there’s an emergency back home, the local Red Cross reaches out to Red Cross workers deployed wherever troops are stationed. Those deployed Red Cross folks then work with their military supervisors to locate the soldiers needed back home, and work to extract them.

This year, just in time for Mother’s Day, my mom is deployed with military troops in Afghanistan.

Susanne in Baghdad, Iraq 2007

My mom has worked for the Red Cross for almost ten years now. She’s been stationed in Germany, South Korea and Colorado, and deployed to Iraq. She’s been active in military matters for longer than that—an Army brat from birth and then deeply enmeshed in activism and awareness for Vietnam Vets and POW/MIAs.

Susanne, Ted and a DC Cop at Rolling Thunder

It was because of her that I began volunteer work with The Last Firebase and Friends of the Vietnam Vets when I was very young, and continued that work until I was 16.

Susanne at the Wall, 2007

My mom is an avid photographer, and takes lots of photos wherever she goes—she’s always been the face behind the camera. Through her work with the Red Cross, she has become an advocate for the Wounded Warrior Project. She never stops. She never gives up.

Mike and Sammy, location uncredited (geez, mom)

Because my mom is stuck in the desert, because it’s Afghanistan, and because the internet can be spotty in any kind of conflict zone, there’s no guarantee that any of us kids will be able to reach her. Instead, I was hoping that you would help me with a special project.

Operation Karina’s Mom is Awesome

Susanne at her Hospice Job, 1991 (the glasses!)

Since my mom can’t be reached easily, I wanted to give her a blog post that she could pull up whenever the internet is up. That’s where you come in.

Leave a comment for my mom right here on this post, under Reply, to be revealed on Mother’s Day. Let her know that her endless energy, effort and dedication is important—that she may be in the middle of nowhere, Afghanistan, but isn’t forgotten. Whatever you want to say, however you want to say it! Help me make my mom’s Mother’s Day special, and I will love you forever.

Susanne with Dirty Dan, 2012

Will you help let my mom know that she’s awesome?

When things don’t go according to plan, it’s like the world doesn’t come to a stop so much as shudder for a second. A really, really long second. (more…)

There is no good time to deal with situations like this. There’s no ideal way to cope. Horrific things happen, sometimes they find a media outlet and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes it’s strangers in far-away Connecticut. In farther away China. Sometimes it’s your neighbor, or your friend. Or you.

There’s so much noise and hatred and vitriol on the internet today—all directed at the perpetrators of today’s shooting, at the politicians who “let it happen”, at the at the people shouting for gun-control, at the people defending gun rights, at people who aren’t talking, at people who are talking.

Everyone needs to process however they need to process. It’s simply the way it is. The death of 20-some-odd people in a school—mostly children—has carved a wound in all of us. It gushes for some, and festers for others. Whether we’re bleeding out or packing it in, we are processing.

But while you’re processing, don’t forget to breathe. You’re needed today. (more…)

I used to make Mondays my rant days. I’d pull out the latest on dit that was rant-worthy and let fly, making it a thing. I tried for things that were obviously wrong—weight issues, fairness issues, things like that.

One day, as I was gearing up for a Monday rant, I tweeted a PSA: “Warning: rant incoming.”

Someone I respect very much tweeted back within seconds. “No,” he said, more or less accurately because like an idiot, I didn’t save it. “Go have some whiskey.”

I don’t know if it was timing, or if it was my frame of mind. Maybe it was pure chance he caught me right at that second, right on that note. I blinked at that tweet and realized… Did I want to start the week off on a negative note? Mondays are hard enough, right?

More importantly, if this fellow author whom I admire could be so firm and calm about it, does he know something I don’t? Does he? DOES HE??

The nerve. (more…)

I’ve been struggling with depression.

Like how I didn’t bury the lead, like, at all? Boom. Serious shit. You’re welcome.

It’s been a road filled with ups and downs. Some good days, some bad. Many I didn’t bother chronicling. I’ve been working hard to overcome, and around Thanksgiving, I woke up one day in my mother-in-law’s home and felt as if I could breathe again.

Whatever voodoo loas I’d conjured, whatever magical shenanigans you all pulled with your good wishes, it worked. Since then, while I’ve had some low days, I haven’t gotten quite as low as I was, and I’m very grateful for that. (more…)

This week is going to be a ridiculously awesome week. Not only am I looking at the onset of a really great mood (screw you, depression! right in the earhole!), but also because I’m headed to the great wintry Wisconsin for an amazing weekend.

TeslaCon is a weekend-long, interactive steampunk event that is totally out of this world. No, really! We’re headed to the moon on the HMS Silverstar, where we’ll be treated to the very best of service the Crown can give us. (more…)

…And yes, I know what ungodly time it is. I promise you that I’m me. No, seriously, I’m still me. There’s been no body snatching. I swear.

What this means is that it’s ass-early o’clock, and I’m getting ready to catch a four+ hour long bus trip in my own, dual-shared version of travel hell.

It’s Thanksgiving. (more…)