End of Days

So, another September comes to a close, as well as another BED(that is convenient)IS.  With an output of 23/30, or a yield of 77%, I did admittedly drop the ball this month.  Am I disappointed with myself?  Of course.  But am I upset?

Well.  Not really.

Does that make me irresponsible?  A quitter?  Too lofty a dreamer?  Perhaps.  But when I set a challenge for myself, it's meant to push me, not to be a low-hanging fruit.

Further (and now, I'm kind of just making excuses) there is one particularly big difference between this September and last.  I did stuff this year.  Last September largely featured me sitting on my couch, trying to decide what to write and faffing about on my tablet.  Here are some highlights of things that I did that I couldn't really find time and words to express on such short notice:

• Visited a number of animal shelters on my never-ending quest for world-dog peace
• Learned the bare basics of riding a motorcycle (and was reintroduced to just how short I am)
• Lost my breath (no, really.  I literally lost the ability to breathe for 5 straight seconds.  Doesn't sound very long, but when it happens, it's terrifying)
• Watched a class of talented young folk practicing Southern(?) Mantis
• (Possibly) staved off a knife attack.  I am probably exaggerating this one in my head.  Probably.

I might try to come back to some of these when I have time to sit down and actually flesh out something worthwhile.  But, in the meantime, here are some things to expect in the near future.

• Blog Action Day 2014 - this year's topic is Inequality.  I heartily encourage all my blogger friends to take part.
• NaNoWriMo 2014 - I'm up in the air about if I'm going to go through with this, but as a challenge to myself, and proof that I am working on a book, I might publish my daily jottings either here or on another space.  If nothing else, I'll probably at least host a word count.
• Higher EleVation - For those of you who don't know, I am a freelance fiction writer for a starting magazine run by a friend and former co-worker.  Feel free to check out the website here.  It's not very big so far, but I submit stuff to it, so hey.  

And now to console my battered ego in a pint of mango sorbet.

Always and until the next.

To build a fire

People rave about Minecraft all the time.  It is an addiction.  Much like Sims or Animal Crossing or Second Life or any other game where you literally live another life in another tiny virtual universe, hours have been sucked away by this game.  Keep in mind - these are all games that I have played myself and gotten bored with pretty quickly.  Still, on a whim, I decided to download the pocket edition for my phone.  No instructions.  No walkthroughs.  No discussions with friends or acquaintances on how to play or what the purpose is.  Just dove in.

Dear readers, today I am going to try something a little different.  A play through of Minecraft from a person who has never played before from the perspective of the character that you play.

KB tagged me in a thing

My friend, KB (or as I like to call her when I'm slightly out of it, Kimothy Kimantha Leonard Lynn Johnson Beyer), tagged me in a Facebook thing that I have been putting off for weeks now, for no real reason.  Today, I had hoped to finish my pillow, but somewhere between crippling lethargy and realizing that I was lying in a pile of dog sheddings on my carpet, I abandoned sewing and lost track of my needle.  As a result, I cannot think of a single thing to write about tonight, so here is a list of 10 books. The text of the challenge actually reads as follows:

"In your status, list 10 books that have stayed with you in some way. They don't have to be the "right" book, or great books of literature, just books that have affected you. Tag 10 friends, plus me so I can see your list."

I am really crap about chain mail and such.  In fact, I'm pretty sure someone emailed me one of those pay-it-forward recipe emails about a month ago, I and I still haven't forwarded it on.  I am a terrible human being.

Anywho.

Work in Progress

Today's post is a bit of a DIY WIP.  I had hoped to finish off a small project tonight, but after getting my flu shot, my body heavily disagreed with me.  I'm a bit too drowsy and achey to push through the whole evening, unfortunately.  But, the show has to go in in at least some small degree, so I thought I'd share what portion of it I have done.

WIP is a bit of a fitting status, given what it's for.  Wish I could say more, but you'll have to wait until next month for the full details.  Let's just say, someone else has a bit of a WIP in project going on in her life at the moment.

Hey! Listen!

I am not a gamer by any stretch of the imagination.  My first console was the NES, and was my only console for years.  About a decade, really.  Don't get me wrong - Super Marios 1, 2, and 3 were all choice, but when your friends all have games in glorious, boxy 3D, a girl gets a little jealous.

That edgily rendered coif...

It might have been a mix of things -- maybe my folks felt a little bad that I was a dinosaur, maybe no amount of cartridge-blowing would get a game to load correctly -- but when I was in my very early teens, my parents finally got me an N64.

Holy s***storm, folks.

Seriously, though -- this kind of hurts like hell.

Unstoppable scab

has created third nipple. 

Satan approaches. 

Until the next.  

You light up my life

There's a good chance that I am clinically addicted to Pinterest.  The website is crafter's crack, and even when I don't see something on my front page to try out, I can always easily look up a tutorial for some idea that's been lurking in the back of my head.

I tend to fall prey to the professional photos.  I probably belong on Pinterest Fails for the sheer number of times I actually destroy pieces of my furniture in the process of sucking at recreating pins.  On that vein, we dive into today's project.

Key master

Whoops.  Bit late again.  Had to shift gears because of some time constraints from today, but also because... because... DG got me a new toy:

What?  What's that?  You think I'm lame?  I'm sorry -- I can't hear you over the delicious click-clack of its titanium frame.  I was originally going to show you my new bell jar, but I couldn't not try this out on something.

Smack-ccidents happen.

Hello, dear readers.

I'm about 8 hours past my posting deadline for yesterday's entry.  Unfortunately, I was in the middle of creating a pseudo-tutorial when this happened:

Don't worry - it looks worse than it feels, though on the scheme of scary things that have happened in my "adulthood", it probably ranks in my top 10.  Regardless, taking care of myself took precedence the rest of the evening.  Sorry about that folks.

As proof that I actually did things, have a little teaser:

Hopefully, I'll have something up by tonight.

Until the next.

The skin I'm in

Driving into work today, the morning show on my usual radio station was talking about regulations being put on what students could and couldn't wear to class at a local school.  The list was pretty extensive - leggings, skinny jeans, short shorts/skirts, tank tops -- essentially anything that showed "too much" skin or revealed too much curvature.  Apparently this was a sticking point for some parents, as any student who showed up to school like this either had to wear their gym uniforms or had to phone home to get their folks to drop off acceptable wardrobe items.

We had rules like these when I was in school, too.  I never really had to think about it at the time, though. because, unsurprisingly, I was pretty conservative in my dress.  Baggy pants were a staple, shirts always fell to my hips (and if they didn't start that way, boy did I learn to stretch them that way).  Any shirt that even that hinted that I had boobs was avoided.  And fie on any girl who wore a skirt that rode mid-thigh.

Even in social situations where a less stringent mode of dress was acceptable, dresses always either had shoulder straps that were three-fingers-wide, or I made a point to cover myself with a shawl or a bolero.  Why?  Because strapless dresses were "easy access."

Oh dear lord in heaven, was I a little shit.

Give and Take

On a drive home with my mom the a few weeks ago, we saw a number of volunteers standing alongside the median, holding out cans for charity.   While stopped at a light, she kind of just stared onward, hoping to make eye contact and just drive on.  Not that my mom isn't a generous person, but she's never been one to arbitrarily hand money out to donations to strangers.  

What with all the ALS Ice Bucket challenge videos that have been flooding the Internet, it has been hard to escape at least some consideration of being charitable.  But when the choice is between pouring ice water over your head and donating $100, it's not entirely surprising to see why we got so many videos.

Nothing binds me

Flashback to 9 PM EST this evening.

I am currently staring in shock at the TV, after watching DG finish this game:


Holy.  Sh**-storm.

Fairest

Holy sweet fricker-fracker!  I've posted over 100 entries!  The one-hundreth was posted two entries ago.  AND I just reached over 10,000 views!

To all those who have been reading along since I started blogging in 2011, you guys are the best.  Thank you so much.  To those just now joining along, I hope you've been enjoying yourselves so far.  I'll do my best to keep you reading.

As a sort of thank you, I thought I'd share something a little personal that I did a few months ago.  Those of you who are friends with me on FB have seen a picture of me, rather done up, which is quite a shift from the usual for this lazy bum.

I didn't do that to myself.  Hell, I couldn't work that kind of magic even if I wanted to.  You see, as some of you might know, around the end of May, I had a professional photo shoot done.

A Sound of Thunder

Almost everything I write is off the cuff.  Maybe 5% of my entries are legitimately thought out before I sit down to the keyboard.  I'm not eloquent.  I'm not elegant.  Most of the time, there's a dictionary sitting next to me because my vocabulary just isn't that big.

Today's not any different, so I'm really, really, really sorry if anyone isn't comfortable with what I might talk about today.

Thoughts to nibble on

Bit of a lazy one tonight.  Still feeling the after-effects of not drinking enough water after last night (I am a lightweight.)

Anyone who has ever come over to my flat and used the facilities has, if they are even moderately observant, seen the following note written on my bathroom mirror:

For the record, no, it does not say, "crystal meth."

In Which Felicity LARPS

Today's post comes to you by way of GGKK's inadvertent suggestion (dude, I just recently realized that those were your initials, post-marriage.)

I like Jane Austen, quite a lot.  Like most of the vagina-bearing population, Pride & Prejudice is one of my favorite books of all time.  I've watched 3 different versions of it in film form, and I have squee'd over Regency outfits while musing what it would be like to meet a Mr. Darcy.  However, never at any point in my life, have I ever actually wanted to live out my own Austen-inspired story.

Welp.  Now i don't have to wonder.  I've found the perfect film that sums up how the whole experience would go.

Dear readers, I introduce you to Austenland.

Thanks, Joseph Rael

I may have accidentally mislead a large number of you into believing that Jagger is my spirit animal.  Sadly, this is not the case, as my (maybe) ethereal guide is nowhere as effing majestic as The Jaggers.  Pupper is, in fact, just DG's rottweiler-lab rescue.  Yesterday, I was quite short on time and extra ideas, so when Snaggletooth McWigglebutts plopped his head down on my lap, I ran with it.

So, I briefly have been hinting that something of interest was to occur yesterday, which it did.  Dear readers, I attended my first sweat lodge.

No, not like that.  Like this:

Image courtesy of WelcomeHome.org

Moves like Jagger

It's really bloody late, and I have spent the latter half of day, losing maybe 5% of my body weight in sweat in a hut of steamy doom, but DG is refusing to let me sleep until I write a post.

I did experience something entirely different today, and I do want to share it with all of you, but I want to dedicate a better amount of time to it, largely because I possibly accidentally met my spirit animal.  That, or I was hallucinating in the throes of pseudo-death.

Anyway, I don't want to make this post a total cop-out.  So... um...

World, meet Jagger:

The Creative Process Pt 3: Pins & Needles

Recap:  I am not a professional seamstress, and I tend to run blindly into projects.

This still has not changed since yesterday.  In fact, I think the only difference between today's manic panic and every other dress I've featured on this blog is the fact that I used math for all of 2 minutes.

If 2*pi*r = 29"
Then r=~4.6"

But I'm getting ahead of myself, again.  Let's start from the top.

1D10T Error

Well, I did have a post ready to go for you.  Unfortunately, Comcast decided to give me the middle finger tonight, and close to none of my photos are uploading.  As proof that I did actually work on my dress tonight, here's a little sneak peek:

I know you are all clearly hanging on the edge of your seat to see the result, but unfortunately, it'll have to wait until tomorrow, at the latest (I hope).

'Til the next.

The Creative Process Pt 2: That Will Never Scale!

Well, given today's post will mostly be about drawing, again, seems like a good enough time for an unveiling of a new logo:

Probably not worth the wait.  Oops.

Before I get started with today's leg of the journey, I feel the strong need to make a disclaimer.  I've said this in the past, and I'll do it again.  I am not, not, not, not, NOT a professional clothing designer by any stretch of the imagination.  Erté is probably rolling in his grave as we speak.  A lot of the things I do will possibly seem redundant, out of order, overly complicated, and downright pointless (making my engineering brethren proud, all day, every day).

That having been said, I shall now attempt to walk you down the tortuous road that is my designing process.

The Creative Process Pt 1: A Leaky Faucet of Consciousness

Forgot that I needed to reinstall my tablet driver.  Logo to come tomorrow, but until then:

Enough people have, in the past, expressed some interest about the process in which I do the crafty thing that I thought I'd write about it.  Because, on Sunday, I have an event where I need a semi-specific outfit, I thought that over a few days, I'd describe from start to finish how it gets made.  Sorry if this kind of thing isn't really your cup of tea.  We'll probably be back to your regularly scheduled musings by Monday next.

I am, without a doubt, a compulsive doodler:

 

Memento Mori

And now for today's episode of...

(I'll get to the new logo soon...ish.)

Settle in, dear readers.  Today might feel a little uncomfortable.

BEDIS Year 2: Electric Boogaloo

<<< Eventually insert amazeballs new logo here, but until that time... >>>

Here it goes again: