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my sewing and costuming pages
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my personal site
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free fonts made by yours truly
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whatever I'm currently whining about
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World of Silliness
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1.31.01, 10:50am
I just found something almost as addictive as Bejewled.. (it's Diamond
Mine on popcap).. Atomica.. I
*like*.
1.30.01, 11:10am
Added a new rant.
1.29.01, 9:32am
Do you think that if California had gone to Bush in the election, the
white house would be more willing to help with the electric problems we're
having?
1.29.01, 8:33am
Eeeeewww.. that's creepy.
I was looking at my site stats, and checking out the search terms, and
I've apparantly gotten six hits with the phrase "training bra pics." I
can't even think of where that would be on here. I mean, "bleach hair
fetish" sort of makes sense when I ramble on about making my fetish
Elizabethan gown, on the same page as I mention bleaching my hair, but
training bras? Ick!
I know I've mentioned the evil bra that hates me, but I can't think of
where I'd have used the word "training" anywhere. Bizarre.
1.29.01, 7:38am
It strikes me that the frivolous lawsuit is just the modern incarnation of
the duel at dawn. I kind of wish we'd go back to the old way; it seems
just as absurd, but is incredibly less expensive.
1.27.01, 1:26pm
I need to buy a new copy of Skinny Legs and All by Tom Robbins. My
copy just literally fell apart because it's been read too many times.
Oops!
1.27.01, 9:04am
Eeeeek!
I just looked up the times for the superbowl (stuporbowl?) Four Hours? Why so long?
I guess I'm just not Americanian enough, since I don't get the appeal of football, country music, frivolous lawsuits, or Jerry Springer.
Though if I'm hosting a sewing circle tomorrow, I really ought to get chips and stuff today, since I won't stand a chance tomorrow.
1.26.01, 3:28pm
On a happier note, I have new boots. *bounce*
It's fun being three inches taller than usual.
1.26.01, 3:23pm
Yay. Here we go again. Cold
War II.
How the hell did half the country vote for this moron? Sublimnabable
messages running during Baywatch, Pro-Wrestling and that dumb rotissary
grill infomercial?
I've been trying to keep my mouth shut about the women's and reproductive
rights that are about to enter the big swirly spiral back into the dark
ages, but.. man. If there was ever incentive to move out of the country,
this is it.
Think that Sealand is taking residency applications?
1.23.01, 9:10pm
You should all pity me. *I* pity me. I'm the miserable queen of self-pity today.
I hate being depressed for no real reason. I mean, if I was like this because my dog had died, or the cat escaped or whatever, it would be understandable. But nothing really bad has happened. I'm just down.
The highlight of my day was the two rednecks who did the "hey bay-bee!" thing this morning. At least -someone- thinks I'm attractive. (I have to admit, I kept watching my legs reflected in windows as I was walking today. I wore my victorian boots and leggings, with a short skirt. I have very nice legs. Especially in cute boots.)
I'm going to go take a bath, whimper because I can't bring the novel I'm
reading with me (it's an unpublished work by a friend of mine from
college, and it's really quite good. If you're interested, it can be
found here.
Check out the rest of
his page while you're at it. He's got some great
things up.), and just generally chill out.
1.19.01, 6:22pm
I think I've figured it out. I know why I've become this attention-starved, needy, high-maintenance bitch.
You see, I was never that high maintenance before; sit me down with a book, a sewing machine, a video game, and I was happy. If you were in a different room, I'd periodically pop in to say 'hi' and remind both of us that I existed, but it was pretty benign.
Or at least, I never seemed high maintenance. I went out with my friends several times a week, did SCA, the occasional Rocky Horror, went to movies, played RPGs, stuff. Little did I know that I was getting the precious attention that I'm not getting now.
Here, I don't have that network of friends. I know a few people, but not many. So it's up to one person to see to all of my attention-seeking needs. And he can't, since he isn't really that used to it, and he's got eighty-bazillion things he's taken upon himself to do that absolutely nobody else can ever possibly do right. (Do I sound a little bitter? Yes? Well, I am a little bitter right now. It'll pass.)
So I'm a royal, clingy pain in the ass right now because there is nobody else for me to get attention from. Makes sense to me.
I guess I just need friends.
1.19.01, 3.48pm
Oh dear.. this is just adorable: Emotions of a
smiley face. (linked from George and his
Pencil.)
1.19.01, 11:48am
Instead of making up new versions of the scooter, someone should invent a
rolling chair that *won't* eat the hems of one's skirts. I'd pay extra for
such a thing, simply because I'm so sick of rescuing my skirts every time
I stand up and I wouldn't have to take the time to fix my skirts every
other time I wear them.
It would also be nice if the wheels could be convinced not to eat any part
of a coat that comes within their reach.
1.19.01, 7:13am
*laughing very loudly* this is hilarious: Barbie Bondage.
(link discovered via Salon's
Inbox.)
1.18.01, 8:14am
Bah. I have a Covenant song firmly
stuck in my head, and it isn't going away.
Yeah yeah, I know i haven't been updating as often as I usually do. Things
have been a bit crazy, I'm not carrying the laptop all day every day
anymore, and work has been pretty busy, so I don't have much time to make my
oh-so pithy and clever (hah!) comments.
I came up with this perfectly silly idea, and a woman I chat with in the
mornings while waiting for the train has managed to convince me that it's
a marketable thing. I've been working out the logistics of this plan in my
head, and if you can address the difficulty of finding suitable employees,
the liability issues if you screw up choosing one of them, and the
exorbitant pricing, it's a pretty cool concept. All VC inquiries to me.
I'll do up an NDA, and you can give me lots of cash to make this happen.
Or else wait a little while, and I'll probably post my concept and
thoughts, and let someone else steal my idea at no charge.
I'll try and do up a good update posting soonish. Really. (Since I
have -so- many devoted readers and fans, and I've been slacking
off and you're all scared that something bad has happened, I'm
sure.)
1.12.01, 8:35am
I think I figured out why my favorite tshirt is my favorite.. it has to do
with the color. You all know how I've been resisting the color pink for
years (I still hate it, despite the pink hair, and the growing prevalence
of neon pinks in my wardrobe), but my favorite shirt for the past 10 years
(yes, it's an -OLD- tshirt) has been a dusty rose v-neck shirt from *gasp*
the Gap. It's one of those heather gray ones that was dyed pink, so it's a
nice, mauveish shade with variations in it. However, the shade of pink,
when mixed with the gray, makes a color similar to my skintone. Not
exactly, obviously, but close. Especially from a distance.
This shirt looks almost like I'm not wearing a shirt, color-wise.
I'm finding all of the doubletakes funny today. But then again, I
would.
1.3.01, 7:54pm
I wish I'd known about this site when I was working at the grocery store: Customers Suck.
1.1.01, 7:50pm
I am just so cursed. That's the only explanation I can come up with. It's all in relation to my going out tonight. Curse or no curse,though, I AM GOING. I haven't been dancing in far too long.
So it all starts when I decide that I want to wear my new cincher that isn't quite done yet (it needs grommets.) Ok, so I put in eyelets, planning on overcasting them with thread at a later date. Lace in. Immediately, four bones that were securely in pop out. One of the eyelets didn't go in quite right, so it's hard to pull the ribbon to get out. Then the underwire on my only black bra pops. I push it back in, tack the hole it came though closed. It pops again, lower down. Jabs me most severely in the armpit, and pokes yet *another* hole in my lurex mesh shirt. I decide that the holes in the shirt aren't fixable, take it off. Underwire gets me again in the armpit.
Still don't know what I'm going to wear, since the outfit I was going to wear was a long skirt, bra, mesh shirt, new cincher. Three of the four things are not out.
Song starts playing on the computer that I feel like dancing to. About four bars in, I step on the box that I keep my grommets and eyelets in. Yeowch. Feels like my foot may bruise. Donno.
Hop around yelping for a bit, get the bright idea that I can wear my velvet tank. Go to find it. Notice that my lower lip feels tight. Find the tank, grab my carmex. Look in a mirror, TWO cold sores are forming. Not one, but two. Grrrrr.
Put stuff on them, hope it'll work this time. Go back into the living room to grab my leggings and boots, step on a spool of thread with the other foot. Hop around yelping.
That is when I decided that I'm cursed. But I'm still going dancing. I hope I don't break my leg or something as I'm doing it. Geez.
I sincerely hope that this isn't indicative of how my year will go this time.
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