tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47930861354595991252024-02-19T00:08:12.333-08:00The Subculture EmpireMany paths. One mind.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-27233075384431569422014-05-09T09:00:00.000-07:002014-05-09T09:00:03.130-07:00This thing still on?Good morning, my minions! <br />
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Yeah, so, I've been busy. Truly busy, in fact. Let me tell you what's been going on!<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>I have a new job! (Yay!)</li>
<li>It's volunteer! (Ohhhhh...)</li>
<li>I finished my Associates! (Yay!)</li>
<li>I still need to apply for graduation! (You dip.)</li>
<li>I have almost finished my Event Planner Certification (Yay!)</li>
<li>I should be doing my homework instead of writing this! (And like that, you ruined it.)</li>
</ul>
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So, yes, it has been all the hectic in my little world lately. Add to the above list things like my son being in track again (which is good, just time consuming) and my daughter having her own list of extracurricular activities like choir and (most recently) Irish dance. And of course there's Beasty, who requires love and attention and video games. Which is fine, I need those things too, I just can't give them to myself. Except for video games.<br />
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In spite of all the frantic activity, I've actually felt a strange clarity recently. I feel very clear on what I need to work on, where I need to be extending myself, and what I need to back away from. I'm going to make an actual schedule for writing, and share it with others and encourage them to hold me to it. I'm going to apply to an editorial position that I don't <i>quite</i> fit all the qualifications for, but I'm pretty close. I have a plan for rearranging the structure of the household, giving responsibilities to children that are more than old enough to start taking them on, and then I'm going to let go and count on them to get their stuff done. That last one is going to be particularly difficult.<br />
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This does translate to changes in yonder blog. I think I'm going to make Adventures of the Gray Goth it's own thing. I like being able to write about my life on occasion, but I also want to keep The Subculture Empire to pontificate on games, music, fads, geekdom, and all that. Now, the more cynical of you will be thinking, "So you'll just be barely updating two sites instead of one?" but in theory that is changing. Have faith, my minions. Or at least, continue to be patient with me.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-53008836763510933432014-02-26T22:59:00.000-08:002014-02-26T22:59:30.833-08:00On being fat and attempting to wear blackHello, my minions. Today we're talking about fashion. Because I want to, and it's my blog. Mwa ha ha ha ha!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And now we make...da magikz!</td></tr>
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Worth clarifying - we're talking about a very specific genre of fashion. This one is for my friends who wear black, as the saying goes. Specifically, it is for my heavier, less conventionally shaped friends who wear black. And - oh, who am I kidding, I'm just going to pontificate about my gripes with trying to express myself fashionably.<br />
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During a recent conversation with family, I admitted that I dislike about 75% of my wardrobe. And by that I mean my daily wardrobe - special occasion clothing shopping is a longer, more selective process. I own a few adorable dresses and one damn versatile LBD that has been my go-to for a few years now. But my every day, roll-out-of -bed-and-go ensembles typically leave me feeling pretty damn frumpy. They also are a poor representation of my preferred aesthetic and personality.<br />
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"Then why do you wear them," the confused reader will no doubt be asking at this time. Because I can afford them, and they fit. Seriously, these are my options. I don't sew (not well, anyway), and I don't often have the funding to have my clothing tailored outside of special occasions. Now, those of you with a more "normal" body type will be very confused by all this. Why do I need clothes tailored? Sure, it's nice to have a better fit, but aren't I being picky? I'll try to break this down for you.<br />
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I am somewhere between an hour glass and pear shaped, if you want a visual of my figure. I'm busty, with wide hips, and a significant backside. However, my waist still tapers in. As such, pants/skirts/etc that fit my hips don't tend to fit me in the waist. Additionally, I'm about a size 14/16 up top and a 18/20 down below, so anything that fits my chest and shoulders doesn't sit well over my hips. Likewise, dresses that fit me in the hips tend to be baggy in the chest and shoulders, and ultimately unflattering. There are, of course, exceptions to this.<br />
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I can find pants that fit, but they're expensive. Finding them in black is even pricier. <a href="http://www.nydj.com/" target="_blank">NYDJ</a> is the ONLY place I have found that offers black (not dark rinse, dark wash, deep denim, bullshit-color-that-isn't-black) jeans that aren't skinny jeans. You have no idea how much I hate skinny jeans. The last thing I need is something that accentuates my butt. My backside draws attention to itself without any assistance from cheaply made, overly tight, glorified leggings. Additionally, NYDJ tend to have a higher waist, which I appreciate. However, at $100+ a pair, they don't really fit into my budget. If I'm very lucky, Macy's will have them on sale for around $80. I have one pair of black NYDJ right now, that I saved up for, and I wear them as sparingly as possible. Which means the rest of the time, I'm in blue jeans. Oh, joy.It's not that I hate blue jeans, per se. I just dislike them being my only comfortable everyday option.<br />
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Acceptable skirts include skater, full, circle, and a tailored A-line. With the exception of the A-line, I can purchase the previously mentioned styles based on my waist and 90% of the time they'll lay well over my hips. However, I don't wear skirts. I would need, like, cargo or utility skirts. Which I haven't found. I've found a number of skirts that say they're cargo skirts, but the pockets are largely cosmetic. Which leaves me wondering what the point is, exactly. I could try utility kilts, but then I risk the wrath of men for impinging on the one skirt they can wear publicly without risking social acceptance. And those bitches are expensive. Seriously. I could get two pairs of pricey jeans for one utility kilt. Which I would prefer to wear anyway.<br />
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So the quest for clothing that doesn't make me twitch continues. Lane Bryant and Torrid have occasional good finds, but I find myself largely dissatisfied with their selection. I did recently discover that stores such as <a href="http://www.loveculture.com/plus-size-clothing" target="_blank">Love Culture</a>, <a href="http://www.wetseal.com/plus/?gclid=CMfdyPjZ67wCFUaBfgodgLIATA" target="_blank">Wet Seal</a>, and their ilk have a number of plus sized items on their websites. If you're willing to sift through the pastel, 70's inspired horrors, you can find some <a href="http://www.loveculture.com/1000009605.html?dwvar_1000009605_color_code=906#start=275&sz=100" target="_blank">real</a> <a href="http://www.loveculture.com/1000014978.html?dwvar_1000014978_color_code=001" target="_blank">gems</a>. Granted, you can't try them on, so get ready to ship back and forth until it fits, but it's a start. Some of the shirts I love and wear most are actually from <a href="http://www.victoriassecret.com/clothing/view-all-tops" target="_blank">Victoria's Secret</a>, of all places. Their XL is supposedly a 16/18, and if the material has a little stretch, it tends to fit really well. Also, they have a number of shirts with elbow length sleeves. You know, for days when the arms feel flabby. I like that. It works for me. Although they recently started making their shirts out of a cheaper, thinner cotton. That doesn't work for me.<br />
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And on that note, my minions, I'm off to clear out my closet again, and attempt to throw out anything I haven't worn in six months. Well, you know, except for the stuff I'm saving. For that day when fairies come in the night and give me back the figure I had in high school. Or something.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-6800282952781159062014-01-14T00:17:00.001-08:002014-01-14T00:17:37.662-08:00Live from Seattle, Letters From TrafficGood evening, minions! Tonight, we're gonna talk about music and kick ass. And I'm all out of ass.<br />
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So music being an important aspect of my little existence (and the cornerstone of more than one subculture), it is likely not surprising that I get out to the odd concert when I can. Sadly, with recent trends in the music industry, it's not as often as I would like. But we're not here to talk about that! We're here to talk about <a href="http://www.lettersfromtraffic.com/" target="_blank">Letters From Traffic</a>.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So I only brought my phone. Sorry.</td></tr>
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Saturday night I headed over to Chop Suey in Capitol Hill to see the <a href="http://www.bandinseattle.com/" target="_blank">Band In Seattle</a> concert. It was my first time in that particular venue, and I will say that it has character. I am also tempted to say they overcharged for the Malibu & OJ I had, but I also just got back from Colorado, and so I need to readjust to Washington State drinking prices. But I digress. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In one of the stalls, ladies room, Chop Suey.</td></tr>
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I must admit straight out that this is not the type of music I usually go to see. These days the music I frequent is typically a little more synthesized. That said, rock can be deeply satisfying. We were running a little late, so we got there in time to catch the last couple songs of the Nicholas Russel Band's set. They were pretty good. I understand they boast a brilliant guitarist who is only 13 years old, but the songs I caught didn't really emphasize that. The crowd was a little thin when we first arrived (it would more than double before we left), but it was far from empty, and they enjoyed a nice round of applause as they finished their set. <br />
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Next up was Gunn and the Damage Done. Or as I dubbed them, Four Guys Off the Street. Because that's what they looked like when they took the stage. Seriously, maybe my standards are off or something, but baseball hat =/= appropriate front man ensemble. In their defense, they knew their way around their instruments, and played well together. Competent musicians, certainly, but they didn't really groove with me. My favorite part of their set was their drummer. I liked his enthusiasm and energy (even if I suspected he was a little drunk). <br />
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And then we had the reason I was there! I knew of Letters From Traffic because I know their front man, Scott Concinnity. I actually had the privilege of performing with him once a few years ago - he stepped up for me when my accompaniment left me high and dry. Sadly, I did not get the chance to work with him again. All that said, I had never seen his band, and so when it was brought to my attention that they had a show (and a CD release party, no less), I was all for it. I have not met the other band members, but I have the internet at my fingers, so I can also tell you that they have Dennis Hart on guitar; Chris Couvillion on trumpet and flugel horn; Alex Gee on slide trombone; Bradford King on tenor & alto sax and vocals; Matthew Miller on drums; and Jacob Doss on bass guitar and vocals.<br />
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First impressions are important, and I will admit that one of the things I really liked about Letters From Traffic was they looked good taking the stage. They didn't look like they'd just rolled out of bed five minutes ago, which I appreciate. I mean, come on, I've seen bands go casual, and that's fine, but only if it looks intentional. You can't look like you grabbed whatever wasn't stained off the floor. They were also comfortable in it - they had presence. No awkward posturing or milling uncertainty.<br />
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LFT's brand of rock is soulful, bluesy, and animated. What do I mean by that? Well, they move with their music, and you will too. You will doubtless argue that all bands move with their music, and you'll also be completely missing the point. There are seven men in LFT, and they are into their music in a way I wish more bands were. Scott took the mic with an impassioned fervor, his soul ringing in his voice. Dennis and Jacob bent to their guitars like lovers. Alex, Bradford, and Chris sent brilliant, brassy notes out into the audience and it was ecstatic. I couldn't see Matt, but I like to believe he was pouring his heart into those drums. My hips swayed, my feet tapped, my back arched, and for a moment I felt as if the ardor they brought to the stage washed over the rest of us. Out of all the performances I have ever been to in my just-shy-of 35 years, I have only felt that way two other times. <br />
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As previously mentioned, Saturday was also when LFT released their new CD, Icarus Iterations. I picked up a copy (like you do). So far, I think my favorite song is <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=94TbIh5ffo4" target="_blank">Dirty</a>. Nothing can make you love a band like seeing them live, and I think I love Letters From Traffic now. They're not my usual cup of tea, but there is definitely a place in my heart (and my hips, apparently) for their sound. <br />
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Two more bands followed LFT - The Dolly Rottens and The Bend - but I have to confess I didn't stick around for them. The Dolly Rottens had taken longer than I liked getting on stage, and having already seen the band I went there to see, I allowed myself to be fickle and went in search of tea and comfortable places to sit. Which led to leaving the bar, you see. Anyway, I missed it, but I'm sure they had their own moments of magnificence. Or not. The world may never know.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-77693908994151242652014-01-05T11:16:00.000-08:002014-01-05T11:16:12.932-08:00Adventures of the Gray Goth: 2014We are four days into the new year as I begin this rambling, and I can almost guarantee that we will be five days in by the time I post it. Not because I will be burning the midnight oil to write it - quite the opposite in fact. It has been a long day, I am exhausted, and I still have much to do before I can sleep. Nothing serious, just the small yet necessary things that accumulate during the hours of the day, building in the corners like particularly obstinate dust bunnies. Things like digging my bed out from beneath the pile of laundry and notions which I kept leaving on it. Trivial tasks, but not lacking in significance.<br />
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I feel a bit odd, my minions. 2013 was a pretty good year for me, overall. It was not perfect, but nothing is. However, a lot of good things happened. It was the first year in our new house, and while that brought its own challenges it also made those challenges worth it. I love having a home that's mine. I love feeling like what I do to it matters. I love being able to paint the walls any color I damn well please. In addition to the house, Beasty got a promotion this past June that saw him in a less mind-numbing line of work that paid better, so that was also quite good. Still the same company, but what can you do.<br />
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2013 was also a rewarding year as a mother. We got the not-so-wee demon into Track & Field, and then later Cross Country, and it was very good for him. It was work, but worth it. The still-a-bit-wee demon got to see a specialist, and so got the assistance she needed for school, and is now doing so much better than she did last year. Her first quarter report card almost made me cry, I was so heartened by her progress. <br />
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The point I'm making is that I wasn't in a hurry to shove the old year out the door like I have been in the past. Granted, it's been a few years since I muttered the infamous phrase of "I'm so glad 20-- is over," but 2013 in particular saw many good things.<br />
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I think part of my problem is that the last week of 2013 brought news that colors the coming year. You will have to forgive me, but I'm going to be aggravatingly vague about what the news was. It is not my story to share. Like most people, though, I am a character in others' stories, and so the news affects me. Let us just say that it took a bit of the shine off the new year before it even began.<br />
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And so I sit, a bit pensive, very thoughtful, and I consider the year stretching out before me. It's a bit tarnished, but if the Steampunk fashion movement has taught us anything it is that tarnish can enhance a surface to make it something grander than it was before. On that note, let's look at resolutions:<br />
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The Empress's Resolutions for 2014:<br />
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1. Be a better friend.<br />
I think this is going to be a resolution for the rest of my life. There is always room for improvement.<br />
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2. Be more intentional about my career.<br />
I've been sitting in a holding pattern that has largely consisted of waiting for life to be more stable. Now, I haven't just waited - I am in school, and I am the mother of two children, one of whom is autistic. I'm reasonably busy. But if I'm going to call myself a writer, I need to start acting like it's my job. Which means schedules, and due dates, and submitting my work to whomever is accepting as well as a number of people who aren't.<br />
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3. Keep working on being less estranged from my family.<br />
You may also recall this resolution from last year. I put a bit of work into it, but not as much as I should have. Time to get back in the saddle and all that.<br />
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4. Exercise, dammit!<br />
This isn't even about weight loss. I mean, yes, I need to lose weight, but this is just about how sitting on your rump all day isn't good for you. I'm not talking about PX90 or Cross Fit or whatever other suicidal fad is out on the market. I'm talking about taking walks, buying a bike, taking a class, and just getting myself out of this chair a few days a week.<br />
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Happy New Year, my minions. <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-27195895265806304242013-12-13T09:38:00.000-08:002013-12-13T09:38:18.858-08:00Adventures of the Gray Goth: Memoirs of a Fat DancerGood morning, my minions! Enjoy your Thanksgiving? Mine was a little chaotic - I hosted two dinners, because I'm crazy and I have weird, obsessive hostess tendencies. I was going to post the menu for the second dinner - it was all Polynesian and, if I must say, fairly impressive - but time wasn't with me. Trust me when I say it was lovely, and aside from learning the hard way that Okinawan sweet potatoes are dryer than regular varieties, a good time was had by all.<div>
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However, this is not why we're here today! We're here because I came across the following picture in my Pinterest feed recently:</div>
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I tried to find the original image, and was taken through several Tumblr accounts and a British porn blog, but no luck. So I cannot credit the original photographer - my apologies. The image search is not what I wished to discuss. I wanted to talk about why and how this piece spoke to me. In order to do that effectively, however, I should give you some background.</div>
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I was in my first dance recital when I was four years old. I have the picture floating around here somewhere - a very small me in a pink leotard with a silver sequin bandoleer sporting fluttering chiffon scarves in a variety of pastel colors. Since then I was in and out of dance classes for a hefty chunk of my childhood. My favorite was ballet - I thought ballerinas were so pretty, and so graceful, and I wanted to be on stage in a beautiful, sparkly tutu and do all the things they did. I took ballet, and later jazz, and while I would often stop for a while (in part because we moved a lot) I would always go back. It continued like this until my freshman year of high school.</div>
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We had recently moved to Stow, OH and as part of the on coming holiday festivities we went and saw "The Nutcracker" at The Ballet Theatre of Ohio. I adore "The Nutcracker" (as I believe I've said before, but it bears repeating), and fell in love with it again at that performance. I was electrified to learn that the studio which performed the ballet was nearby, and there was much cajoling for classes. My mother, being a good mom who wanted her children to follow their interests, signed me up.</div>
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All went well, until it came time to audition for the next production of "The Nutcracker". When I went to secure an audition slot, I was taken aside by Madame Kristen and informed that there wasn't much point in auditioning. Confused, I asked her why, and she told me that I wouldn't fit the costumes. They used the same ones every year, you see, and little size 12/14 (at the time) me wouldn't be able to squeeze in. Madame Kristen proceeded to tell me that most of the girls had a 19 inch waist, and the only outfit she thought I might have a chance of fitting was the maid from the opening scenes. Yet even that was doubtful.</div>
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Having moved from confused to more than a little hurt, I went home. I think I went to class once or twice after that, and then never went back. I have given a lot of bullshit excuses for why I left ballet over the years, my favorite one being that I wasn't enough of a masochist to do that to my feet, but the truth is I left ballet because at 14 I was told I was too fat to be in "The Nutcracker".</div>
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I didn't dance for years. Then, at age 24, after two children and a lot of life, I went back into the studio. Pikes Peak Community College had a dance program, and the teacher Danika was smiling, encouraging, and never once said I shouldn't be there. I did modern, and very much enjoyed my return to that fluidity of movement. I thought about ballet, but didn't do it. Even still, dance did wonders for me - I felt better, I started losing the weight I'd gained from having kids without even really trying, and my confidence (which had been shattered by a broken marriage and a number of life mistakes) began to inch its way back up. I also took belly dance, which was fun and felt very natural to me on a number of levels, though it wasn't as satisfying as modern.</div>
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Two years after my return to dance, I dislocated my left knee. I spent a year or more needing a cane to walk anywhere. Trips to the mall or grocery store required a wheel chair or one of those scooters. I did not have insurance. An X-ray was taken, but never an MRI, and there was no physical therapy. There was certainly no more dancing. Almost ten years later, the knee still gives me trouble, but I do what I can. I can't run, and I certainly am not capable of the movements required to get back into modern or ballet, but I have taken a couple belly dance classes, and that at least is something. It also doesn't help that I've regained the weight I lost (plus a little extra, ain't that always the way?), which is hard on my knee. Yet I also can't manage the sustained movement for aerobic exercise to lose said weight. It's cyclic and frustrating.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So, background out of the way, let's go back to the picture. I was just stopped by that image, of a heavier woman en pointe, all done up in an artistic shot. If you really look at the image you can see she's got some cellulite, she's not at all what a ballet academy would consider ideal, but I bet she doesn't care. She's up there anyway, going "Damn right, I'm sexy", and I know from experience that holding your leg like that long enough for a photographer to get a good shot takes strength and determination. She is what 14-year-old me needed to see, but sadly didn't. But maybe 34-year-old me can take something from this anyway.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I don't know if I'll ever dance again. I can almost guarantee I would need surgery to repair my knee, and I would certainly need to lose a fair bit of weight so as to not hamper the healing process. I have medical insurance now, but it's not very good, and certainly won't cover something like knee surgery without meeting the rather high deductible. I imagine I'll continue to look for a belly dance class that I like (not that I don't like the one I took, it's just a bit of a drive), and that will be a good way to get some exercise, but the way ballet and modern feel cannot be matched by ATS. And it certainly doesn't build muscle the way other dance styles do.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So I don't know if I"ll ever be the girl in the picture above. But I could be. And for some reason, that makes me smile a little. It reassures me in a manner I hadn't realized I needed.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-35086149890192810732013-11-25T22:06:00.000-08:002013-11-26T08:59:29.995-08:00Adventures of the Gray Goth: Being MomGood evening, my minions. I actually had a humorous bit about the Fall Sports Banquet that I had been wrapping up to post tonight, but things change. I'll still post the other bit - it's pretty funny, and gives a nice example of how I tend to interact with other parents. However, I need to write about something else first.<br />
<br />
For those who haven't been paying attention, I have kids. Two of them. They are beautiful and precious and all the things you expect a mother to say about her kids. Except mine really are. I could write about them for hours, until the hours turned into days. Tonight, though, I specifically want to talk about my son. Not that I don't have anything to say about my daughter - she's wonderful, and infuriating, and sprinting towards puberty like it's an Olympic event - but tonight it's the boy's turn.<br />
<br />
If my daughter is the shining sun of our family, then my son is the North Star. Ever-fixed, easily outshone by his sister, but you will always find yourself looking to him. He loves chocolate, Legos, pizza, and dogs; if Beasty had the sense and patience to join forces with him, they'd probably punch a hole in my "no pets" policy pretty quickly. He is also autistic. He's about mid-range on the autism spectrum - limited communication and comprehension, mild self-stimming, but very social and loves people. I mean he really loves people. He's physically affectionate, he adores parties, and nothing makes him happier than having all of his important people together in one room. Well, except maybe Legos. <br />
<br />
He is thirteen years old, turning fourteen in January, and already 5'11". Possibly taller at this point, he hasn't been measured in a bit. It's causing some small problems - mostly from people expecting the behavior of an older child from him, but also him not understanding how his size and the strength that comes with it changes interactions. He really likes younger children - after all, they'll play tag and chase with him - but I see other parents get nervous when he tries to interact with their much smaller (and they're presuming much younger) kid. He also has boundary issues. As in he doesn't understand them. Personal space is a foreign concept to my son.<br />
<br />
We had a boundary issue tonight. My daughter is twelve going on OMGTEENAGER, and is wanting more privacy than she ever has before. My son wanted to play with her, specifically with a bouncy ball she had, and so he was looming outside her closed door waiting for her to let him in or give him the ball. She shouted for him to stop "stalking" her, and I told him to just leave her alone. It isn't the first time we've directed him to back off when she needed space, though her reaction was perhaps a bit dramatic. He went into his own room, and I stopped worrying about it.<br />
<br />
A half hour later, I came around to tell everyone to get their pajamas on. My son was in his room still, with a blanket over his head, and I figured he was just being quirky so I turned on his space heater (the bedrooms in our house don't heat well) and told him to get his pjs on. That was when I heard the sniffling. I paused, and gently pulled the blanket off of his head, asking what was wrong. He had taken his glasses off, so it was easy to see that his eyes were shiny with tears yet unshed. I asked again, and sat down next to him. At which point he turned to me and wrapped his arms around me before proceeding to sob into my shoulder.<br />
<br />
I held my son and rubbed his back and asked him again what was wrong, not understanding what could have moved him to this.<br />
<br />
"I a bad guy," he finally said between choked sobs.<br />
<br />
I said no, he wasn't a bad guy. Assuming this had something to do with the earlier exchange, I tried to explain that his sister just wanted to be left alone sometimes.<br />
<br />
"No, I am. I a bad guy," he repeated, still crying hard against me, and clinging to me in a manner that has become increasingly more rare as he's gotten older. At this point his sobs had attracted his sister's attention, who left her room to satisfy her curiosity. I asked her what she had said to him, thinking there must have been more to it, but she just repeated the exchange I had overheard earlier. Through all this my son just keeps crying, holding on to me as if for his life, as I rock him and rub his back and continue to tell him he's not a bad guy. My son understands what bad guys are, and it has crushed his soul to think he might be one.<br />
<br />
After another minute (and a quick head jerk from me), my daughter stopped standing awkwardly in the doorway and sat down next to us. She hugged her brother and repeated that he wasn't a bad guy. We both held him, and the crying slowly stopped. I told him how sweet he was, how kind and thoughtful, and that he was a good boy; he just needed to listen when people wanted to be left alone. Once the crying had become little sniffles, his sister started tickling him, and the moment had officially passed. <br />
<br />
Now everyone is in bed, and I'm sitting at the computer, and now I'm crying. Because my heart broke under the weight of his sorrow, and because I have no idea how to keep it from happening again. I do not know how to explain to him that his sister is probably going to get worse before she gets better - it's just a part of growing up. I've tried to explain that the looming thing is annoying/creepy, but the behavior has persisted despite my best efforts. I don't know how to explain that life is going to be eternally unfair to him, even more so than the average person, and that we'll just have to keep doing our best. <br />
<br />
But I can tell him that I love him, and I know he understands. He understands that I love him, and his sister loves him, and Beasty loves him (and his grandmother, and grandfather, and a great many other people). He may not know the depth of my commitment to him, or how hard I will fight for him, but he knows that I love him. And maybe that will make it okay when all my explaining cannot.<br />
<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-35891983880801602682013-10-17T11:34:00.001-07:002013-10-17T11:34:57.391-07:00Crushed by PumpkinsIt is fall, my minions! I'm sure you've noticed this already, provided you live in the Northern Hemisphere and in an area where the seasons actually change. I know, I know, the first day of fall was close to a month ago, but I've been busy. There are various different signs that autumn has arrived which appeal to us more or less depending on our area and interest. School starts, football is rampant, the leaves are changing, stores are preempting all over holidays by putting out their Christmas displays, that sort of thing. And, of course, from coffee shops to candle stores, we have pumpkin EVERYTHING.<br />
<br />
I'll admit, I like pumpkin. A lot. Not just in pie. I love pumpkin bread, pumpkin cookies, my friend Eve's pumpkin soup (which is not sweet at all and very tasty), and I'm a pretty big fan of pumpkin candles. Also, I confess that autumn does not truly begin for me until I have my hands on a non-fat, no water, Pumpkin Spice Chai (3/1 on the Chai to Pumpkin Spice ratio, with sprinkles, but no whip) from Starbucks. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHafwfRh58oE_Jiqr6MwbeUdvo1BzELEnAg_4BXp5wY8NuQo1YaFaKf4OD3eSbornC9OJ-xF-_np1Y6x6W83qHJHuHOmm04PksC_pfnQPs2OeuCTLlXZFcAx1u5ZugrgEAx3ngeZuaFC8/s1600/Pumpkin+Spice+Chai.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHafwfRh58oE_Jiqr6MwbeUdvo1BzELEnAg_4BXp5wY8NuQo1YaFaKf4OD3eSbornC9OJ-xF-_np1Y6x6W83qHJHuHOmm04PksC_pfnQPs2OeuCTLlXZFcAx1u5ZugrgEAx3ngeZuaFC8/s320/Pumpkin+Spice+Chai.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Special thanks to the <a href="http://www.starbucks.com/store/7428" target="_blank">Downtown Edmonds Starbucks</a>.<br />I love you guys.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />That said, I think we may be over doing it just a bit. And the number of pumpkin-y products seems to be growing with every year. In fact, just last week <a href="http://www.usatoday.com/story/money/business/2013/10/08/pumpkin-flavoring-scent-starbucks-baskin-robbins-dunkin-donuts/2938943/" target="_blank">USA Today</a> was remarking on the rise of pumpkin-related sales, noting that breakfast foods have been seeing a big increase. To demonstrate my point, I'm going to subject you to my personal pumpkin run-down. As of today, I have had:<div>
<ul>
<li>Starbucks Pumpkin Spice syrup - Obviously I'm a fan, but it's easy to use too much of it.</li>
<li>Pumpkin Spice M&M's - A vile mistake if ever there was one.</li>
<li>Pumpkin Cereal Bars - These were a nice idea, but they don't really taste like pumpkin.</li>
<li>Pumpkin Cream Cheese Muffins - Quite tasty. Go have one.</li>
<li>Pumpkin Scones - Also delicious.</li>
<li>Pumpkin Cookies - Best if moist, and if not moist you made them wrong because there's PUMPKIN IN IT for pity's sake.</li>
<li>Instant Pumpkin Spice Chai - This was disappointing, I am sad to admit. While it tasted all right, the smell was off putting. Too much anise, maybe?</li>
<li>Pumpkin Spice Truffles - I see chocolate and pumpkin in the same light I see chocolate and bacon. Both are delicious, but if you combine them their powers of deliciousness cancel each other out. I had both dark and milk chocolate truffles, and while I felt the milk chocolate better balanced the heavy, rich intensity of the filling, I'm not going to buy them ever again.</li>
<li>Pumpkin Pie Bagel - Oddly heavy and dry for something that should contain a moist, pulpy squash.</li>
<li>Pumpkin Yogurt - This failed on so, so many levels.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
And that's where we're at just as of mid-October. Pumpkin-product season isn't over until at least mid-December, and even then it will linger through the winter holidays. I am sure I will eat and encounter many more pumpkin-y things. I'm sure I will regret about a quarter of them. And then, at the end of the winter holiday season, when I cannot bear the thought of having one more thing with pumpkin in it, they'll take all the products away until we're all just rabid to have them back. At about mid-September. Like they do every year.<br />
<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-17700278946362327232013-10-08T08:42:00.000-07:002013-10-08T08:43:18.991-07:00Adventures of the Gray Goth: The ExplanationGood morning, my minions. Today is the first installment of a segment I have decided to call Adventures of the Gray Goth. What is a Gray Goth? Well, that's kind of how I've taken to describing myself. But what does it mean, you ask? I will explain.<br />
<br />
<i>Disclaimer: If this term is in use elsewhere on the internet, in social circles, etc and possessing of a different meaning, I don't care. I didn't look it up. This is my little corner of the universe, and I will reappropriate as I see fit.</i><br />
<br />
I started using the term "Gray Goth" because gray is a point between black and white. Like most people, I don't fit securely into just one subculture, but Goth is probably the one I have the most ties to outside of Geek. I wear an awful lot of black. I have a deep love for Depeche Mode, The Smiths, Sisters of Mercy, Covenant, Wolfsheim, and so on. I like old cemeteries, ivy shrouded mansions, and abandoned castles. I have a fascination with vampires. Halloween is my favorite holiday. Walking out into sunlight has made me hiss on more than one occasion. And I'm pale.<br />
<br />
I know there are a number of stereotypical items being thrown around in the above paragraph, but that's kind of the point. How do we identify a subculture? Well, generally, by its stereotype. The above paragraph is also just a lot of things that describe me. <br />
<br />
Now for the tidbits that make people want to revoke my Goth card. I have an obsession with pink these days that terrifies some of my friends. That obsession lends itself to Candy Shoppe pastels in general (so can include mint, lavender, cotton candy blue, and so on). Pink is just my favorite. I pretty much live in blue jeans. Not that I wouldn't love them to be black jeans, but I challenge you to find a good pair of boot cut black jeans in my size for less than $100 (boot cut is the bit you'll have a problem with). Much as I would love to pretend I dress like this all the time:<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNrj-w7fBtAOBDkxYimWZ6KBd9d2YELCZUwrQKK0OFauUcpMvJ9oVUGP88vIG6myDTR9gb8JHdAQ0fvMfwuO3WTXZZzNRsvHqA3Nm4t4cepLMSe91xWovaoKchPcytCWHxKBQsFxHBBAA/s1600/cute+goth+dress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNrj-w7fBtAOBDkxYimWZ6KBd9d2YELCZUwrQKK0OFauUcpMvJ9oVUGP88vIG6myDTR9gb8JHdAQ0fvMfwuO3WTXZZzNRsvHqA3Nm4t4cepLMSe91xWovaoKchPcytCWHxKBQsFxHBBAA/s400/cute+goth+dress.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Anne Jane dress from <a href="http://www.gothikas.com/">http://www.gothikas.com</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
you're far more likely to find me in blue jeans and a black t-shirt with some graphic relating to a video game or comic. Which is what I'm wearing right now, actually. I only dig out my eyeliner for special occasions. I used to go to raves with Beasty back when we were younger. I have an equally deep love for Sting, U2, Madonna (90's to early 2000's), BT, David Guetta, Florence + The Machine, Cindy Lauper, and so on. My second favorite holiday is Christmas/Solstice/whatever and I adore The Nutcracker. My favorite work of fiction is probably Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, and I'm more than a little fixated on how people have interpreted the work and all the different stories, games, movies, and so on inspired by it. I love spotted toadstools, and whimsy, and pastel rainbow unicorns. <br />
<br />
In short, I'm not hardcore. I'm not even softcore. I'm just kind of hanging out on the fringes. And I'm okay with that. Most of my friends seem okay with that as well. It does, however, leave me lacking a short description of my preferred aesthetic. I bandied around the phrase Gray Goth in a conversation with a friend some days back, and they laughed saying it was perfect. So what the heck. We'll run with it.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-66878412107911190762013-09-30T11:43:00.001-07:002013-09-30T11:43:24.462-07:00(Not So) Visceral Games and Dead Space 3 are on my listGood morning, my minions!<br />
<br />
So, it's been a very long time (again), but I am not apologizing. What I am doing, however, is reapplying myself to my writing once more. I have such a love/hate relationship with writing, which is sad since it is my profession. We're seeing a counselor. I think it'll work out.<br />
<br />
Today we are getting back on the horse and breaking the long silence with a moment of nerd-rage. I'm not going to try to dignify this as anything else. If you're being diplomatic, you can think of this as a review. Bit of a late one, as Dead Space 3 was not high on my priority list. However, I had become attached to poor Isaac, and wanted to see what this final (ha ha, right) chapter of his saga had in store. So let us begin.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-GfY6mS2sz5jbNApBuTSJPCt12Z7wUO-_1jHpMLfID_K4csry3KghIU2hPDxZuzI2f7AkQXz2OvED-c-Ca4UgPsVdT_W2WOXLuy8LyEv0MBCtjkc2djiYJK7jouwxgYJVo1aqF7ELwyA/s1600/DS3-PC_cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-GfY6mS2sz5jbNApBuTSJPCt12Z7wUO-_1jHpMLfID_K4csry3KghIU2hPDxZuzI2f7AkQXz2OvED-c-Ca4UgPsVdT_W2WOXLuy8LyEv0MBCtjkc2djiYJK7jouwxgYJVo1aqF7ELwyA/s320/DS3-PC_cover.jpg" width="226" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And the cover looked so promising.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Oh, it is worth remarking that this review/rant/whatever is going to be rife with spoilers. Just so you know.<br />
<br />
The game actually opens with a military maneuver on some far off planet. Some poor grunt retrieves a "codex" from an exploding ship, only to be shot by the commanding general who then deletes the information in the codex before offing himself as well. Terribly mysterious.<br />
<br />
We then rejoin Isaac Clarke back on Earth, having survived two pretty horrific encounters with the abominations known as Necromorphs (during Dead Space and Dead Space 2). He is living alone, in relative squalor, and you learn fairly quickly that his fellow survivor and later girlfriend, Ellie, has recently left him due to his inability to move past the previous events. Can you blame him? Really?<br />
<br />
You're not there long, however, before John Carver (the co-op character) and his captain, Robert Norton, break into your crappy apartment and drag poor Isaac off to go fight the Necromorphs again. All while being hunted down by Jacob Danik, the leader of the Unitologists (you know, the religious psycopaths from the previous games - like Scientology, only the higher ups actually believe what they tell the masses). You dodge snipers and suicide bombers, and eventually make it off planet with Carver and Norton. Oh, it is iimportant to mention that Norton obtains your cooperation largely by telling you that Ellie ran off on this mission first, and since Isaac still loves Ellie, you're going along.<br />
<br />
So off you go! Some thrilling incidents in space, and you eventually find Ellie! Yay! Oh, wait, Ellie is with Norton now. He failed to mention that. Begin Norton's career as a passive-aggressive douche with jealousy issues. Well, you're here now, time to get to the planet and save humanity! You might as well, right, they dragged you all this way and your ship blew up, so it's not like you're getting back. <br />
<br />
And seriously, every time Norton opened his mouth, I felt like Torgue needed to pop up and yell, "IS IT JUST ME OR IS HE GONNA BETRAY THE FUCK OUT OF YOU!?". The foreshadowing is laid on with a trowel in this game.<br />
<br />
Now this is where the story actually gains some interesting details that really could have been utilized to make a great game. They weren't, but they could have. Isaac finds himself on the planet from the first scene of the game. It turns out 200 years ago, the Sovereign Colonies Armed Forces were camped out here studying the Markers and the Necromorphs. Isaac along with Ellie, Norton, Carver, and two non-military experts get to trek their way through a frozen wasteland in search of answers and a way to disable the Markers. The frozen planet makes for an interesting, new environment. All sorts of monstrosities pop up out of the snow, and you need to be concerned about your body temperature. In the beginning, at least. You eventually find cold weather gear after ransacking the SCAF buildings that litter this planet. After watching one of the civvies nobly freeze to death.<br />
<br />
This is the first of several scenes that are supposed to evoke pathos, and fail miserably. The aging, somewhat hobbled Buckell, expert on all things SCAF, is found huddled in a building that has lost its doors with no power. He is almost frozen when you find him, and manages to mutter something about volunteering to stay behind because there weren't enough cold weather suits to go around. He tells you there are more downstairs, but the elevator isn't powered and it sounds like there are Necromorphs in the lower levels. Then he dies. I felt kinda bad about this, until we stepped into the next room and found the generator. Which you can turn on and suddenly the room is heated and the elevator works. Right there. And we didn't have to do anything special to get to the generator. Just step into the next room. Sure, you need Kinesis to turn the generator on, but at least two other people in the previous group have that. So really, Buckell died because a writer at Visceral went "Oh, shit, this is a horror game, we need to kill secondary character! Sure you technically just met and so aren't really attached yet, but we need feels!".<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFroI4czBu3nISKmQtRjNCJMsH0_oZENMjm0_aZy3AGYeGNn3Uz8xJZ6DUmHTfGveXKu-bk9m_TXjuSnChMi1L9eMkv3Mjf_OfSq8s2mFS4emUD4nUD-WDAHqYQsG0JybZYHqZJMR7akE/s1600/Austin.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFroI4czBu3nISKmQtRjNCJMsH0_oZENMjm0_aZy3AGYeGNn3Uz8xJZ6DUmHTfGveXKu-bk9m_TXjuSnChMi1L9eMkv3Mjf_OfSq8s2mFS4emUD4nUD-WDAHqYQsG0JybZYHqZJMR7akE/s320/Austin.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And the award for most pointless death goes to Austin Buckell!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It's a shame these bits of the story are so weak and so poorly executed, because the game really needs them. And it needs them because the horror element is, while not lacking, certainly not putting in as strong a showing as it needs to. The first Dead Space was pretty scary and creepy as all get out. It made me uneasy, and after spending an evening playing it I was glad I didn't have to go to bed alone. Dead Space 2 jumps the shark pretty early in, and so loses some of its scariness (because when you see a guy's face melt off as he turns into a Necromorph RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU in the first twenty minutes of the game, it's all pretty much down from there), but was still creepy as hell. Dead Space 3 is...well...horrific in concept but not as much in execution. The secondary characters are basically picked off one at a time, but you don't really care because no time was spend building a rapport or fostering emotion. Except when Norton dies. I may have cheered. Because he is a jealous douche-canoe, and he totally betrays us. <br />
<br />
Also, you see every death coming. At one point in the game, Isaac scales a frozen mountain to find an ancient winch in order to bring up the rest of the party. As everyone is unloading, the last of the civvies, an engineer named Santos who is some sort of expert on how the Markers work, stays on the platform sorting her things while everyone else gets off as quickly as they can. If that makes you immediately go, "Well, she's dead", then you and I have something in common. And that something is called being right.<br />
<br />
The last third to half of the game is spent digging through labs and an archaeological site full of alien technology and remains. Which should have been awesome. It was interesting, sure, but lacked detail and consisted largely off "go this way, kill everything, pick up artifact, go that way". And sure, you can make the argument that lots of video games consist of that, but what I am trying to convey is that the action felt that dry. There was no real suspense, you knew exactly what was going to happen (in this case, final confrontation with the villain who escaped death one too many times already), I just wanted to hurry up and get there. There weren't even any fun alien secrets to learn, and the few that they give you have no use.<br />
<br />
So, conflict with Danik, tearful goodbye with Ellie where Isaac shows that he has found closure and clarity of purpose (and I did actually like this bit, it felt good), and Ellie flees to a shuttle while Isaac and Carver go off to kill the giant ass monster. We win (duh), and Isaac and Carver fall to their death on the broken, frozen planet below. Ellie is shown flying away in tears, after having confirmed that the Marker signal has indeed been shut off. Fade to black, roll credits. And just as I'm turning to the Beasty and saying that while the game was kind of boring, at least it ended decently and we can all move on, there's a radio crackle on a black screen.<br />
<br />
"Ellie," asks a very tired and damaged sounding Isaac amidst static, "Ellie, are you there?"<br />
<br />
Now you're just fucking with me. Seriously? He survived a fall through atmo after being beaten to hell <i>and</i> having his helmet destroyed, I might add, which means he was seriously short on oxygen during that joy ride down. But no, there's DLC, Dead Space 3: Awakening. There is NOTHING I hate more in games than, "give us more money for the real ending". Which, for the record, is why I'm not giving Capcom any more money ever again. The irony is that reviews say DS3: Awakening actually contains the horror and tension that DS3 was missing. I'm never going to know that, though, because I'm done. That's it. I'm taking my toys and going home.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-41404896203904851422012-10-18T22:35:00.001-07:002012-10-18T22:36:29.104-07:00The thrill of shadowsI very much love my Beasty. We compliment each other in so many ways (not all of then good, but what can you do). When he and I said our vows last year, I have never felt more sure about my profession of love and devotion to another. Half meant I-love-you's and broken promises of past relationships were swept away and forgotten in the burning truth of the words spoken as we held hands before our gathered friends and family.<br />
<br />
That said - there will always be a tiny part of me waiting for my dark, vampiric prince to come. It's not that I want to be taken away from Beasty. It's just that it was supposed to have happened by now, and every once in a while after listening to certain songs or watching certain movies, I wonder why his undead ass hasn't shown up yet. Granted, I'm not the pale, waning ingenue from most of these songs and movies, but I'm still pretty sexy in my own right. And I'm pale. Unless I've been visiting my father in Florida. But even then, that's usually just my shoulders and arms, the rest of me is still pretty damn pale.<br />
<br />
Oh, dear minions, what can you do? The little gothy core of my heart will always be waiting for young Gary Oldman to show up on my back porch in Victorian finery on a particularly stormy night. Or something like that. My fascination with vampires has waxed and waned over the years, and even though it's been heartily threatened by the drivel that is teenage supernatural romance, it never completely goes away. I even (dare I admit it) began to write my own vampire novel, though I need more practice at building suspense and a sense of horror. Because vampires should be scary, dammit.<br />
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And on that note, I'm going to return to building my vampiric playlist. It's not very long at the moment, and I'm having trouble tracking down an mp3 of <i>Dark Lover</i> by <a href="http://www.tempestmusic.com/" target="_blank">Tempest</a>.<br />
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I leave you with the following eye-candy.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTw-xmnjOTBw5ompJzxm5gBe5e8DXJ3nLM9g-qppr7ZX1w0gKXPMzQY0gc6V_JYaW3LK6MuiTNGjE5A0r_huFXF-HQT8LHwZ8tg5A3Cn1Ty4ofZSlCDZH4GNu7KasHhDXdzaveQLPSRwY/s1600/GaryOldmanBSdracula.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTw-xmnjOTBw5ompJzxm5gBe5e8DXJ3nLM9g-qppr7ZX1w0gKXPMzQY0gc6V_JYaW3LK6MuiTNGjE5A0r_huFXF-HQT8LHwZ8tg5A3Cn1Ty4ofZSlCDZH4GNu7KasHhDXdzaveQLPSRwY/s400/GaryOldmanBSdracula.jpg" width="366" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gary Oldman in <i>Bram Stoker's Dracula</i>, 1992.</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-6818570064469146472012-09-15T16:35:00.000-07:002012-09-15T16:35:57.522-07:00Little Big Squee FestWhile I was away for the summer, Beasty picked up a copy of Little Big Planet 2. If you don't have the slightest idea what I'm talking about, you may go <a href="http://www.littlebigplanet.com/en/2/" target="_blank">this</a> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/LittleBigPlanet_2" target="_blank">way</a> and educate yourself. Now, I wasn't all that familiar with the game and while I thought it was cute enough it didn't really excite me in concept. I also have never played the first Little Big Planet, so I didn't have franchise attachment. After seeing Beasty play a level, it looked cute enough to make me want to give it a try when I had the time.<br />
<br />
A day or so later the wee-est of the demons, my little Empress-in-Training, decided to pick up the controller and give the game a try. She likes video games well enough, but frequently gets frustrated, so I was impressed and proud of her when she made it past the final boss of the first world with a little help from Beasty and continued on to the second. I was sitting at the computer at the time, not really paying attention to what was on the TV, when my interest was hooked by the <a href="http://youtu.be/dCL2J5ttX_4" target="_blank">soundtrack</a>. Looking up, I very nearly squee'd with delight. The guardian of the second world is Victoria Von Bathysphere, and hers is a decadently Victorian land of cakes and trifles and jams and tea, spread heavily with a layer of Steampunk. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG10Vg1F1PzJNxQv6kMLBZw_QLOcmH6qCe-gFj6FoKBZ8RLpB38eso1byFZb8O0GyWN_-iiIpf5tBkNmwecLVJw7vj5ZKBuMmQIs7gXLE_TNjKHK52BgvaXDiza_PLEPoDHu65IBS8Ftg/s1600/9435-world2level2screen5png.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG10Vg1F1PzJNxQv6kMLBZw_QLOcmH6qCe-gFj6FoKBZ8RLpB38eso1byFZb8O0GyWN_-iiIpf5tBkNmwecLVJw7vj5ZKBuMmQIs7gXLE_TNjKHK52BgvaXDiza_PLEPoDHu65IBS8Ftg/s400/9435-world2level2screen5png.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zip-lining past obstacles with a cupcake anchor over rivers of jam.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIM2iCVLuU1pDp_C9H9f8yZMdMnNUq0A6gC4CNCUEoPu9eWFYydvM_r0s1kWLzXh_gfhgmvnVVgNQMmaxHpYCDBKdv7Z_eD8PazWoFiqvrs-tDoCMtYhERDYi0kZFW8vE1ZeyOUb8IKRo/s1600/9403-world2level1screen1png.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIM2iCVLuU1pDp_C9H9f8yZMdMnNUq0A6gC4CNCUEoPu9eWFYydvM_r0s1kWLzXh_gfhgmvnVVgNQMmaxHpYCDBKdv7Z_eD8PazWoFiqvrs-tDoCMtYhERDYi0kZFW8vE1ZeyOUb8IKRo/s400/9403-world2level1screen1png.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I would like my own private pastry-themed train.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpchTxU4seQZrS8Q65jObuX_N7XbEaZXWUi7LlrskYmHO9A6kxL_Mp4F36E8tDdqQbMP-QblRMp1NnGMrvLbVlnAvMqLJBgulZcF4Z4vIXFBJHVH89d1YhxxRAc7hO_XVJath3TACHbag/s1600/9417-world2level1screen4png.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpchTxU4seQZrS8Q65jObuX_N7XbEaZXWUi7LlrskYmHO9A6kxL_Mp4F36E8tDdqQbMP-QblRMp1NnGMrvLbVlnAvMqLJBgulZcF4Z4vIXFBJHVH89d1YhxxRAc7hO_XVJath3TACHbag/s400/9417-world2level1screen4png.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I imagine these stacked cakes to be light and crumbly.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFpVze8dKNDIX62UgIYf5Y5x9voqDEvd9bqa03J_dQPCJ3A7er6JNoo4VYo_uGhDKaFJPbSLsZ8kszuQrZIKWKaCeTKsGycV2LDEVKHglmqnML6s_sLz_r2OBdbBnAPPaIM8OW0F_WrO0/s1600/9429-world2level2screen3png.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFpVze8dKNDIX62UgIYf5Y5x9voqDEvd9bqa03J_dQPCJ3A7er6JNoo4VYo_uGhDKaFJPbSLsZ8kszuQrZIKWKaCeTKsGycV2LDEVKHglmqnML6s_sLz_r2OBdbBnAPPaIM8OW0F_WrO0/s400/9429-world2level2screen3png.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh no! A lake of molten jam! It's death by deliciousness!</td></tr>
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Many thanks to the lovely PS3 users who posted their screen shots on the internet for me to exploit. It is now my driving desire to throw a tea party based on the levels of this game. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-30151829775225895952012-09-13T14:07:00.000-07:002012-09-13T14:07:57.481-07:00You kids and your music!What is with DJs these days?<br />
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No, really, that wasn't rhetorical, what is up? I seem to be having an issue when I go to the club anymore. It is very possible that I just don't "get it", but as far as I can tell, if you are a club DJ that means that your job (like it or not) is to play music that gets people dancing and drinking. So, ideally, you want the dance floor to look like this:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbq44eOKwP_pNw66Yvlfmc0Zj013xSIGGhmNA8i8bYVIJ2wZye5XVVQi5OG-4eo-NJajg4qsCB3xg2IcAioM1MCZgs_82MZn2Ccebl_n1PcQSYJrR7x5IMmifSBo7_qt6SzFhTuvmx3yQ/s1600/nocnocfull.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbq44eOKwP_pNw66Yvlfmc0Zj013xSIGGhmNA8i8bYVIJ2wZye5XVVQi5OG-4eo-NJajg4qsCB3xg2IcAioM1MCZgs_82MZn2Ccebl_n1PcQSYJrR7x5IMmifSBo7_qt6SzFhTuvmx3yQ/s400/nocnocfull.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noc Noc. <a href="http://www.seattlepi.com/ae/music/article/Seven-nights-seven-dance-floors-1252248.php" target="_blank">Photo: Scott Eklund/Seattle Post-Intelligencer / SL</a></td></tr>
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My confusion arises, my minions, because during the several club nights I have attended over the summer (where the point of the evening was drinking and dancing), the dance floor has looked far more like this:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNxtHEv03z4sVzWKsgYS-r9xCKZNfhAhsNobEsxCtrBpTFTI3SH23BffAkF3LmzXoOPIHmAAymzi58yhhgk3Q_p1djLu4jmisrPV1o5_a82hKTMrdBAC4hvcfdmfOwSg1Y4Ji2CX8_igs/s1600/nocnocempty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNxtHEv03z4sVzWKsgYS-r9xCKZNfhAhsNobEsxCtrBpTFTI3SH23BffAkF3LmzXoOPIHmAAymzi58yhhgk3Q_p1djLu4jmisrPV1o5_a82hKTMrdBAC4hvcfdmfOwSg1Y4Ji2CX8_igs/s400/nocnocempty.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://clubnocnoc.com/" target="_blank">Noc Noc. Photo: Noc Noc's PR Department</a></td></tr>
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This is not just a one-club phenomenon either. Mercury at Machinewerks in Seattle, Noc Noc in Seattle, Club Sanctuary at Benders in Denver, The Fez in Portland, wherever that one place in Orlando was whose name I have forgotten because it was just that bad, you have all had these moments this year! And it is not because people don't want to dance! I don't club solo, it is always with a group, and our expectation when we go is that there will be dancing, with music that encourages the dancing. Yet sadly, again and again, there has been disappointment. <br />
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Now, I am not saying that DJs should have no creative licence and that they should just take requests all night. I definitely don't think that's a good idea. I understand that time has been spent preparing playlists and considering the mood of the event. I do not want to throw off your groove (no pun intended). However, at what point does the evening stop being about throwing a good party and focuses on just letting the DJ play his or her favorite songs. Shouldn't there be a point where the DJ looks up and says to his/herself "Wow, the dance floor has been pretty dead for the past twenty minutes, maybe I need to change it up a little. Maybe the crowd just isn't into this right now."? Or am I completely wrong?<br />
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Furthermore, shouldn't the DJ be playing what the night is advertised as being? If it's goth night, why am I hearing dubstep? If it's supposed to be "Old School" goth night, why are we listening to your friend's band that no one's ever heard of? The dubstep or your friend's band may be very good, but they're not why I came. Their style of music was not on the flyer that you used to attract people to your venue on this night. A promise was made, and we appear to be short on delivery.<br />
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The one place (ONE!) that I have been this year, where I danced all that I had hoped to dance (and drank correspondingly, because I only pay for alcohol at club prices if I'm enjoying myself), was <a href="http://www.coclubs.com/the-church/" target="_blank">The Church</a> in Denver. I love this club very muchly, and had I the money I would open one like it in Seattle and do my damnedest to get their Friday night DJ from the Catacombs (the downstairs area) to come spin. Seriously, I danced so much that night I think I lost weight despite the alcohol consumption.<br />
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So, there it is. Step up your game, people. I shouldn't have to fly 1400 miles to get my groove on.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-31644377262363608682012-07-06T09:00:00.000-07:002012-07-06T17:00:58.895-07:00Sriracha Not NecessaryWell hello there, my minions. Do have a seat. I was just about to have a bite.<br />
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I...I have a confession to make to you, my minions. It is a little bit uncomfortable for me to admit this, seeing as I pride myself on having fine taste and a sensitive palate. However, I want to be honest with you. That's important to me.<br />
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The truth is - I love ramen. I really do. However, it is important to note that I am not talking about Top Ramen or Cup o' Noodles. I mean this:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9pq3BgxzlkPwUoWNJ7oecGTkJDoIDrSSP87KkLEa6LrR-lzmJEei06-YrbFC1oHj8JwaTRzIsdmzhjf-YMn6vq1zxlO_cUgL6JeyUw34NFB5FmudbMMHIhR0Cy7hEge1B_dab7JMhlk/s1600/ramen1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9pq3BgxzlkPwUoWNJ7oecGTkJDoIDrSSP87KkLEa6LrR-lzmJEei06-YrbFC1oHj8JwaTRzIsdmzhjf-YMn6vq1zxlO_cUgL6JeyUw34NFB5FmudbMMHIhR0Cy7hEge1B_dab7JMhlk/s400/ramen1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Imagine this smelling fantastic. Because it does.</td></tr>
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The above image is of shoyu ramen (which means it's floating in chicken broth). I purchased this particular packet in the fresh noodles section of <a href="http://www.uwajimaya.com/" target="_blank">Uwajimaya</a>. They also had a very nice tonkotsu ramen (creamy pork broth) by the same company. That was a special occasion, however. Most days, we buy Ichiban ramen in Original, Shrimp, or Chicken varities. What is not special, however, is the egg, green onion, or fishcake (that swirly pink and white stuff). Those come standard in my house. This isn't your lazy, broke college kid's ramen.<br />
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I indulge this habit outside of the home as well. For the longest time my favorite spot was <a href="http://www.boomnoodle.com/" target="_blank">Boom Noodle</a>. The food is good, even if they're trendy as all hell, and they have a fun menu with a lot of variety that includes not only ramen but cold noodle salads and other hot noodle dishes. They also have a sampling of fun "small plates", including but not limited to the traditional edamame, ebi katsu, gyoza, spring rolls, and whatever intriguing little dish the chef is currently in love with.<br />
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Now, while I still love Boom Noodle, I have to admit I have found a better place for just straight ramen (with no fancy appetizers or trendy presentation). Said place is <a href="http://www.samurainoodle.com/" target="_blank">Samurai Noodle</a>. They have three locations - Capitol Hill, University District, and International District. I've only ever been to the one in the I-District, which is a little hole in the wall off of the Uwajimaya building. The tables are frequently full, but the food is great and you can get it to go if you need to. I recommend the Tampopo.So that's it, my minions. I hope this hasn't drastically altered your opinions of me. And if it has, you clearly don't understand what you are missing.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-2856418310550694492012-07-02T09:00:00.000-07:002012-07-02T11:32:11.773-07:00Spooky night at The LovecraftIt should not surprise you, dear minions, that I enjoy travel and will take the opportunity to do so whenever it is presented. So when Beasty and I had some free time a little while back, enough for a quick getaway but not for an extended adventure, we decided to drive to Portland (like you do). This was not our first trip to Portland, but the last one was somewhat rushed and not terribly well researched. On this most recent venture, we had a little more time to plan.<br />
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We stayed at <a href="http://www.jupiterhotel.com/" target="_blank">The Jupiter Hotel</a>, which is an older building that has been renovated into a charming enough boutique hotel in a gentrified neighborhood. I recommend the place to the younger set for a weekend trip with friends. It was cute, and fun, and the Doug Fir Lounge was quite the popular spot two of the three nights we were there. Do not expect it to be quiet enough to go to bed early - the hotel provides earplugs as standard in your room. And a neon yellow condom, in a clear wrapper stamped with the hotel's logo (I kept mine as a souvenir). The door to the room was a chalkboard (on both sides), and we kept our "to-do" list on it, crossing places off as we visited them.</div>
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Incidentally, overall impression of Portland - dirty. If the city can scrape together enough for regular street cleaners, it can only improve things.</div>
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This is not the point of the entry, however! Amongst our list of things to do (which included Powell's, Ground Kontrol, Spartacus, and others), at the very tippy top of my list was <a href="http://thelovecraftbar.com/" target="_blank">The Lovecraft</a>. The Lovecraft is a bar and tea room with a decorating theme inspired by (wait for it) H.P. Lovecraft's works. It is the most deliciously gothy little spot I have ever stepped into. For the love of Nyarlathotep, it is a bar and tea room!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUahpVWG9k00fzprkDLzKU4t_zwD4hMKaBBt3YI2dhkrEoBZEFLaXO_T-6gqOdDuUrK1OuKpPJRdBEPFdMnJ57ULnBm6Ai6Cce7-86hyphenhyphenMnaAv4i8x2FDmhCxlOLtNE3Fk1wRS2QFngW3w/s1600/lovecraftceiling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUahpVWG9k00fzprkDLzKU4t_zwD4hMKaBBt3YI2dhkrEoBZEFLaXO_T-6gqOdDuUrK1OuKpPJRdBEPFdMnJ57ULnBm6Ai6Cce7-86hyphenhyphenMnaAv4i8x2FDmhCxlOLtNE3Fk1wRS2QFngW3w/s400/lovecraftceiling.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ceiling at The Lovecraft. Photo by Chloe Alix,
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 16px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">© 2011.</span></td></tr>
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<div>
I was fair giddy. It's not the most polished spot I've ever been in, and their outside signage leaves a lot to be desired. Additionally, while the abundance of red lighting certainly assists in setting the mood it makes reading the tea list a touch difficult. That said, I enjoyed a lovely Earl Grey while listening to Murphy, Morrissey, and Gahan, taking in the fantastically macabre decor. Deep in my darkly glittering soul I felt a happy, contented joy such as I have not experienced in a very long time.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Regrettably, we were there on a bit of a dead night. Our Portland adventure was a midweek trip, and they didn't have anything special scheduled for that evening. We ended up heading out early to catch the Goth night at The Fez, which turned out to be a significant disappointment. That much dubstep does not belong at Goth night.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
In conclusion, my minions, should you find yourself in the ever raining City of Roses, do go take yourself to The Lovecraft. Even if you're not one to regularly don the black, dress up for a night and go dangle your toe in the deep end. The experience will be worth the effort.</div>
<div>
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirHtHgIL3-vkTlbbOqtoCPbmBIIQxxCoGoyF-Hrw2ce0pnGJxPdimIBmKmhU_YdiMsprscIpg0j83YpjYvKDGpNpI26qvO2TvTX9tj1NkZyxRMja8ACqSNcKDNFq5QCAHZq59sE0MIQag/s1600/IMG_20120405_204450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirHtHgIL3-vkTlbbOqtoCPbmBIIQxxCoGoyF-Hrw2ce0pnGJxPdimIBmKmhU_YdiMsprscIpg0j83YpjYvKDGpNpI26qvO2TvTX9tj1NkZyxRMja8ACqSNcKDNFq5QCAHZq59sE0MIQag/s320/IMG_20120405_204450.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rain-drenched me, with my tea, at The Lovecraft.<br />
(Courtesy of Beasty's smart phone)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-7382994472710510472012-07-01T22:21:00.000-07:002012-07-01T22:21:29.929-07:00Forgiveness and Past MistakesGood evening, my minions. I have once again let a horrible amount of time pass in between these updates. In the spirit of this post, I hope you will forgive me. Because this post is about forgiveness. Though not from others, but from ourselves.<br />
<br />
<i>Quick disclaimer: The usual subculturific posts will resume on the morrow, tonight you get morose self-reflection.</i><br />
<br />
It may have come up in the past that I have children. Two of them, precisely, two little demonic minions that are usually pretty good if I'm going to be completely honest. They are not Beasty's, although he has taken on the role of "Father" fairly well and has even done all right with the on-the-job training. There's been some grousing, but he does good. Which is something to be admired. The person who contributed to their development biologically is no longer in our lives, and no one considers this a loss of any sort.<br />
<br />
So, that covered, as I write this I'm sitting across from my son, who is sipping hot chocolate, and I'm watching him carefully. I'm specifically watching his mouth - the right side of his upper lip protrudes a bit oddly. It is not obvious, you really have to be looking to see it, and I imagine I only see it because I know what to look for. You see, when my son was two, his lip was split open and I had to take him to the emergency room to get it stitched back together. He fell onto our coffee table after being carelessly and impatiently pushed back by He Who Must Not Be Named. It was an accident, but one that could have been avoided, and I have not yet been able to forgive myself.<br />
<br />
This is just one poignant example of the slew of mistakes that I hold against myself when it comes to my children. Many of the mistakes are my own, even more are what I allowed my ex-husband to do, all the while telling myself stupid things like "Well, he does yell a lot, but he's not hitting them or anything," as if that made it okay. Berating an autistic child for not comprehending things as an adult would is just as cruel as slapping him would have been, it just didn't leave a mark. Volleying between outright ignoring and overly doting on the "normal" daughter wasn't any better. Yet I let these things happen, because I was so mired in my own misery and so unsure of myself that I would disagree (at times quite loudly) but I wouldn't intervene. These are the horrors that eat at my soul, these are the sins that bend my head and cause me to weep. These are the mistakes of my past that hold me back.<br />
<br />
It serves nothing and no one to sit here and cry because I was too young and unready to handle motherhood responsibly when I first took on the mantle. My son's lip won't lose it's odd curve, he won't stop being autistic, my daughter's incessant need for attention won't go away, she won't magically become more thick-skinned, not a single damn problem will be solved no matter how many tears I shed or how much I beat myself up over it. It serves <i>nothing</i>. Yet it is still there, festering like an infected sore. <br />
<br />
The key, the only logical way to more forward, is forgiveness. Forgiveness of self is hard. It is among one of the hardest things I have tried to do. And I still can't do it. I function by not thinking about it most days. I'm still working on it. No one else can do it, though. I could ask my children to forgive me, and they would. Lovingly and freely they would, and they would be more upset by my tears than by any past transgression from myself or a man they can't remember. They cannot grant me absolution, however, and asking their forgiveness would confuse and hurt them. Which would really just make the matter worse, wouldn't it?<br />
<br />
My son is in bed now, the empty cocoa mug in the sink, and I was hugged and kissed before he ran off to his room. They are good children; loving and sweet, charming and playful. I have to acknowledge that whatever I may or may not have done, I have (so far) raised two pretty fantastic kids. And maybe accepting that will be my first step towards forgiveness.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0Edmonds, WA, USA47.8106521 -122.377355247.767997099999995 -122.4563192 47.8533071 -122.2983912tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-43734326127863029092012-03-18T01:07:00.001-07:002012-03-18T01:09:26.541-07:00Let me dust off this excuse right here...So. It's been a while. How're you doing? You look good. I like the hair. Are you doing something new with it? What have you been up to lately? Keeping busy? Good, good. Oh, me? Well, I've had a lot going on. The quarter just ended and it's been a little difficult. How long ago? Oh, ah, about a week or so back. What have I been doing since then? Saving the galaxy from the Reapers.<br />
<br />
Yes, my minions, Beasty and I pre-ordered Mass Effect 3, the Collector's Edition. And that is more or less all we've been doing since it arrived.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrHvK397vPCTPHYrX_EuiYFKxrIzAt5i7Z78JUQlwlH1VSDc1U4H1rGAirJ11_UmTNKXe4GgSxTHj79kIMBTVogkEAai0Fz3uDfLY58rUIAeIgB_3NI-GeoaqzrNk4wvdLZ0eRSnrBkxE/s1600/femshep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrHvK397vPCTPHYrX_EuiYFKxrIzAt5i7Z78JUQlwlH1VSDc1U4H1rGAirJ11_UmTNKXe4GgSxTHj79kIMBTVogkEAai0Fz3uDfLY58rUIAeIgB_3NI-GeoaqzrNk4wvdLZ0eRSnrBkxE/s400/femshep.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I love this series of games. I mean, I really love them. I have been impressed with the characterization, the voice acting, the writing, the visuals, all the things that I need to make a game stand out for me. The game play mechanics are pretty good, too. Not my usual cup of tea (I don't really go in for shooters of any kind), but I've never screamed at the controls either. Thankfully I can typically get Beasty to play it for me and dictate decisions during the characters interactions. That said, even though we have the entire series for the Xbox, I still intend to pick it up for the computer so that I can play around with all of the mods made for it and explore the ten potential love interests. Well, all right, I won't explore all of them. Just half of them.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-6721960852679556552012-02-17T00:00:00.001-08:002012-03-17T23:06:39.800-07:00We love you Nathan, oh yes we do...I have said before that I am more likely to swoon over video game characters than celebrities. This is still quite true. Real people are disappointing - characters are not. If you're going to fantasize about someone, fantasize about the person whose flaws are transparent and easily worked with. Besides, no one wants to have sex with Johnny Depp or Brad Pitt. They want to have sex with Jack Sparrow or John Smith, but since those people aren't real they redirect their fantasy to the actor behind the character (and are then upset when they read the tripe and realize that the actor behind the character is a real person who doesn't like them).<br />
<br />
Anyway, as I am vast and contain multitudes and contradictions, it should go without saying that I have an exception to this "don't fixate on the actor" rule of mine. That exception is Nathan Fillion. I doubt anyone is surprised by this. For those of you who have been hiding in a hole these last several years, let us examine Exhibit A from when Nathan played Captain Malcom Reynolds:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-E-KBQLcjT_7OE2KfKgS8Km8m_MzVr2Qbo2CL1qKBkcyZDFve9x_gaI8G3yyVH-La-_H33L7Xhja3k1p0LTLhhHxg0YCluocC6at5cJQYU1z9JkvvFYGunHxOAtad2bBhFAiWzUkt9jw/s1600/captain-reynolds-nathan-fillion_rgb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-E-KBQLcjT_7OE2KfKgS8Km8m_MzVr2Qbo2CL1qKBkcyZDFve9x_gaI8G3yyVH-La-_H33L7Xhja3k1p0LTLhhHxg0YCluocC6at5cJQYU1z9JkvvFYGunHxOAtad2bBhFAiWzUkt9jw/s320/captain-reynolds-nathan-fillion_rgb.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have a strong desire to go watch more Firefly now...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>There are not many women who accept the label of Geek who haven't had an urge to smooth out the good captain's rough edges in one way or another. Still, admiring dear Nathan in this role is fine and all, but one short lived TV series does not propel someone out of the character zone. What is it about this actor that made it past my barrier?<br />
<br />
Because he's awesome. He has a sense of humor. He does goofy things like <a href="http://www.drhorrible.com/" target="_blank">Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog</a> and the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCf9M5GsDSs" target="_blank">Swamp Ass PSA</a>. Beasty follows his Twitter and occasionally shares the posts of note with me, which have alternately had me laughing hysterically or feeling moved. He doesn't live in the tabloids, I've never heard about him having intense displays of ego, and while I'm sure he's not perfect he seems like a decent guy. If Nathan asked me to leave Beasty for him, I would be forced to give it some serious thought, but he never would because he's a gentleman (this is, of course, in an alternate universe where he and I have actually met and he would actually find me attractive). <br />
<br />
So, there it is. Confession time over. Farewell, my minions.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-63015866375966581132012-02-06T00:00:00.000-08:002012-02-07T08:49:48.374-08:00Electronic confessionalIt's been a while since I've spoken at any length about my religious beliefs. Strangely enough, there's a lot going on in my life these days that has me reflecting on my beliefs and how I got to where I am. It's an odd journey, and thankfully not a particularly painful one.<br />
<br />
At this point in my life (and probably for some time to come), I consider myself an agnostic. I have, at one time or another, adopted or strongly considered Christianity, Wicca, Asatru, Judaism, and Atheism without feeling quite right about any of it (though, admittedly, I still have a sympathy for more pagan belief structures). I am unable to completely abandon the concept of "something else", the idea that there may be a consciousness greater than myself. At the same time, however, I cannot accept any of the current theories on who or what that something may be. <br />
<br />
There are two major reasons for this. The first has to do with history. I like history, and I've studied a fair bit of it. I particularly enjoy mythology and I always have. Since elementary school I have been reading about old gods and other traditions. Because of this, I have noticed how amazingly similar every single religion is. For example, every religion I've ever examined has some sort of resurrection myth. In more than one of those myths, the resurrection happens after a period of three days. Additionally, as a fan of history, I have to acknowledge that there is not archaeological evidence for a lot of the events current religious texts claim took place. Now, the argument could be made that these events were supposed to be allegories that taught a lesson pertaining to how people in the faith should behave, and should not be taken literally, but they are.<br />
<br />
The second reason is the people. I have seen the ugly side of each of the faiths I listed above. I have met hateful, exclusionary people from every walk of life, and more than just one or two sour grapes. I understand that not every person who subscribes to a particular belief is that angry and hateful, but so many of them are that it just feels like it can't possibly be right. If you have reached spiritual peace, are confident in your faith (or lack thereof), and know yourself to be on the correct path then you should not have so much hate and you should want to share your position with people, not cast them out because they aren't as enlightened as you. Again, I know not everyone is like that, but enough are that I have turned away with a bitter taste in my mouth.<br />
<br />
I am a skeptic, but I am a skeptic that wants to believe. You will not find a bigger fan of the fantastic. I have read all the stories, reveled in ceremony, and been fascinated by the mysteries, both big and small. However, I can't. It does not make sense to me. So I will sit here and not know, accept that this is one more mystery in life, and not worry about it.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-42343676384893348022012-01-10T16:44:00.000-08:002012-01-10T16:44:46.653-08:00How much gel does it take to keep his hair like that?As part of the holidays, Beasty got a new, larger monitor. As such, his old but still impressive monitor was moved out to the family computer in the living room. Now since it was larger, and since the old monitor was an odd size with a weird aspect ratio, I took it upon myself to find new wallpaper for it. So I was looking on <a href="http://www.deviantart.com/" target="_blank">deviantArt</a>, like you do, and I was hoping for something with swirly, stylized clouds. I like them right now. Something like this, only in different colors and a little more swirly.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_709031630"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIJHio_fePGpVO_-P4Km1KnTTgVCLKrsCmpiYEaVWxC7dBVvlA5LSASQoWCKF4EMW6uIF1mWOhs11kXKj0FunTrsNciaJ5bK-8JoBq_iHQU7I_kQ1X3JWr23XxMBpV3jaH5kkor6Oaba4/s400/dragonclouds.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=asian%20cloud&order=9&offset=72#/d3cjazm" target="_blank">Love the idea, but the color scheme just isn't me.</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
What I found instead, was this guy.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIhFX-_UI6JF9RBB__MAIV1s7qP2kGeEv0cra9FRAEn3UyG5V8-SpLdD33p8NXAyxwGJhymhg2pSouGkUZWj6Lty51C8GCZML7EB9tHU8GNmfvVsgN_D5Mw2MjkQ4Nl7VGu2hFaX0_zg4/s1600/Ff7ac-cloud-render.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIhFX-_UI6JF9RBB__MAIV1s7qP2kGeEv0cra9FRAEn3UyG5V8-SpLdD33p8NXAyxwGJhymhg2pSouGkUZWj6Lty51C8GCZML7EB9tHU8GNmfvVsgN_D5Mw2MjkQ4Nl7VGu2hFaX0_zg4/s320/Ff7ac-cloud-render.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><br />
Over and over and over again. In every possible light, angle, and pose. In compromising positions with Sephiroth, Tidus, Squall, Seifer, and a few guys I didn't recognize. It actually took a couple pages to get to the compromising positions with Aeris, Tifa, and Yuna (as depicted in FFX-2). With and without the famous Buster Sword, with and without the bike, with and without a shirt in some cases. I was eventually forced to shriek and rage quit. Yes, you can rage quit looking for wallpaper.<br />
<br />
Now, here is the deal my minions. I have never understood the preoccupation with Cloud Strife, or with <i>FFVII</i> in general. I'm not saying it's a bad game, I just don't understand the undying adoration it seems to have garnered. And <i>Advent Children</i> didn't help - that movie was pretty awesome, but it was nearly ruined by whatever idiot they put in charge of sound editing. Fight music cuts in randomly, whomever matched up the soundtrack to the action doesn't seem to have actually been watching the film, and while it's a beautifully rendered film with a good story I just can't bring myself to watch it again. Once was enough with the cringe-worthy audio. These are not traits that I would think inspire this level of fandom, but clearly I must be wrong.<br />
<br />
I feel <a href="http://www.vgcats.com/comics/?strip_id=176" target="_blank">Scott Ramsoomair</a> put it best. I deeply and truly wish that man would update more often.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-48854327173095465072012-01-06T00:00:00.000-08:002012-01-06T09:10:21.094-08:00Have you met the Lady of the Manners?Good morning, my minions! Today we have just a quick little thing, because I'm behind on homework and it's only the first week of school. So, as you can imagine, a tad bit of focusing needs to be done. However, I didn't want to leave you lost and alone, so I will tell you about one of my favorite websites to while away time on.<br />
<br />
Is there a goth in your life that you would like to understand better? Are you a goth that would like a little advice in how to navigate society and build your own little dark corner of this waking dream we call reality? Then, my darlings, let me direct you to the <a href="http://gothic-charm-school.com/" target="_blank">Gothic Charm School</a>. The Lady of the Manners will offer you her charming and helpful advice in all things spooky, in a gracious and sympathetic tone that (let's face it) I am far too catty to ever manage.<br />
<br />
So go, read, be enlightened and entertained, and I'll see if I can't do better on Monday after turning in all of my assignments by their due date of 9pm Sunday evening.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-63359089275685501882012-01-02T00:00:00.000-08:002012-01-02T00:00:00.928-08:00Non-alcoholic drinks and Mayan calendarsHappy New Year, my minions! I've been gone from you for some time, I know, and for that I apologize. Here's to getting back on the horse, as it were.<br />
<br />
So, another year is upon us. A good friend called me this morning to wish me a Happy Apocalypse Year. I've lived through a couple of them at this point, and they've almost become an old hat. A lot happened in 2011, the most significant likely being my marriage to the fluffy Beasty, with whom I've been involved for seven years now. My all-but-legally-adopted sister also got married back in July. I made the Dean's Honor Roll for achieving a GPA of 3.5 or better in a quarter. My son started his final year of elementary school. The Little Red Bistro and the Theater closed, and the space was taken over by a chiropractor of all things. And that's just what I can think of off the top of my head. It was a year of change.<br />
<br />
While I have said my goodbyes and am ready to see the year go, I feel it important to point out that I'm not shoving it out the door. It is done, and that's fine, but I don't find myself lamenting about how the year was just awful and I'm so glad it's over. The year was...a year. It had both good and bad, and I would say the good took the reins. <br />
<br />
So as I sit here writing this, sipping my hot cocoa (which is woefully free of liquid courage) and looking down the barrel of another Apocalypse Year with a saucy grin, I thought I would share with you my resolutions. I used to be very anti-New Year's resolutions. "No one ever keeps them," I would loftily decree. "It's just so ridiculous, and it will only leave me feeling depressed when I inevitably stop going to the gym in six weeks." These days, I've realized that it won't actually bother me one little bit when I abandon a resolution, and it might encourage me to do something I wouldn't have otherwise. So, without further ado:<br />
<br />
The Empress's Resolutions:<br />
1. Treat my real friends better.<br />
There are people in my life who have been consistently there for me, who have taken the time to show how much they care, and who have just really come through for me in big and small ways. I have not always shown these people the recognition I feel they deserve. I'm very far away from most of them, and they know that I'm busy with my imps and with school, and so have been forgiving. However, I feel they deserve better from me.<br />
<br />
2. Stop worrying about my less consistent acquaintances.<br />
I know a lot of people, and I care about a lot of people, but the truth is there are a number of people in my life whom I have put a fair bit of effort into without ever having that effort returned unless it was easy and convenient for the person in question. While I can still find it within myself to care about these people, I really need to stop worrying about maintaining a relationship with any of them. We can be nice, and say hi, and have fun together, but they've shown me that I'm not important to them so they need to stop being important to me.<br />
<br />
3. Start being less estranged from my family.<br />
I am very far away from everyone I am related to, some a fair bit more than others. Rather than sit on the couch and cry because I miss my family or because I have such a poor relationship with my siblings that one brother didn't even RSVP to my wedding let alone show up, I need to do something about it. When I was younger I would mope because <i>they</i> weren't trying hard enough to have a relationship with me. That's bullshit. Time to be the change I want to see.<br />
<br />
4. Start wearing purple.<br />
This is both a literal resolution and a metaphor. The metaphor bit is a little hard to explain. Some of you will get it. Others will not.<br />
<br />
5. Find an exercise I enjoy and do it consistently.<br />
I was really good about this once upon a time. I was taking dance classes, had dropped around 20lbs or so, and was enjoying what I was doing. Then I dislocated my knee. The knee is doing better, though is not completely healed, and I regained the 20lbs plus added on some additional weight (which isn't helping the knee). I need to find a belly dancing class and a yoga class that I enjoy, suck it up, and go. Preferably something that I have to pay upfront for so that it will encourage me to keep going.<br />
<br />
6. Learn follow-through.<br />
This is the greatest challenge I face, as evidenced by the countless files of unfinished stories, the boxes of half-done projects, the notebooks of ideas that never went anywhere. I need to finish what I start. Even with I start to lose interest or it gets frustrating. And if I falter, if I drop a project, I need to return to it. I've gotten much better about this, but I still have a long way to go.<br />
<br />
And I believe that's enough for right now. There is a quote that I've been seeing everywhere this New Year that I shall leave you with tonight, as it strikes a lovely, warm chord.<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">"When it’s over, I want to say: all my life</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">I was a bride married to amazement.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms." </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">- Mary Oliver</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-48488743574077693722011-11-28T00:00:00.000-08:002011-11-28T00:00:05.029-08:00The Force has left this one in leave of their sensesI know I promised to go over my Thanksgiving exploits today, but that will have to wait for Friday as the photographs are still on the beasty's camera. Let's move on.<br />
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Guess who was given access codes to The Old Republic beta? No, not me. While my darling little netbook does so many useful things, it does not handle complex games. Beasty's computer, however, does quite well, and so he alternated between Jedi Knight and Trooper for most of this past weekend. I was perched nearby, curiously watching his progress, and decided to pop on to the Star Wars wiki page, <a href="http://starwars.wikia.com/">Wookieepedia</a>. I think it started with me asking if there was something about being a Sith that made you get ugly and go bald, and the beasty told me to go look up his favorite Sith, <a href="http://www.whatsyourobsession.com/images/2011/gentle-giant-darth-talon-statue-1.jpg">Darth Talon</a>. After giving him the "God, you're so male" glare, I decided to actually read the article about the busty, tattooed Twi'lek which of course led me to clicking on several links as I'm not very familiar with the Star Wars 'verse outside of the original three films.<br />
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I proceeded to spend the next few hours reading article after article about the absurdly complex universe the Star Wars fandom has built. I would also like to say in my defense that I had a nasty cold and wasn't up to doing anything more strenuous than reading anyway. One article would inexorably lead to another, and I learned more about the Sith and Jedi in one evening than I have in sixteen years of being besties with a hardcore Star Wars fan girl. Said wiki-walk has left me very disappointed with the Sith. But let me tell you why!<br />
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First, for those of you who have no idea what "Sith" means, go <a href="http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Sith">here</a>. I'll wait. The rest of the class will have a spot of tea whilst you educate yourself. <br />
<br />
All set now? Good, let's plunge ahead.<br />
<br />
Let's start with the Code of the Sith. I have no problem with the code, and in fact I honestly prefer it over the Jedi code, given my nature. It is as follows:<br />
<br />
<i>Peace is a lie, there is only passion.</i><br />
<i>Through passion, I gain strength.</i><br />
<i>Through strength, I gain power.</i><br />
<i>Through power, I gain victory.</i><br />
<i>Through victory, my chains are broken.</i><br />
<i>The Force shall free me.</i><br />
<br />
While the potential for power-hungry ego-mania is certainly inherent, overall it's not that bad. Yet, after an evening of reading, I have yet to see a single Sith actually live according to their own code. Seriously, the Wiki even describes "most Sith" as being "cold and dispassionate". Furthermore, they don't seem particularly "free". Most Sith are unswervingly loyal pawns to their Masters, except for the few who rise up and kill their Masters usually (it seems) on the orders of another Master. Moreover, it seems the greatest thing any Sith can devote his or her unnatural, dark life to is the destruction of Jedi. That's it. You have all the power of a dark god and you're going to waste it hunting down these guys over here because of their vastly different philosophy. Apparently all Sith are cold, psychopathic zealots who worship their dead leaders and have nothing better to do than wage holy wars.<br />
<br />
I guess, in the end, I was hoping for something more interesting. Now, I understand that the Star Wars universe needs a BBEG (or fifty), and that Sith make good BBEGs, but here's the thing. There are passionate people with limitless resources who don't decide the only thing to do with their energy is go kill a rival sect or take over countries. And I imagine that there's something about the Dark Side of the Force that makes all Sith into horrible, evil people who have no ambitions outside of accruing more power to kill more Jedi. You're welcome to try to explain it to me, my minions. <br />
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In the meantime, I'm going to throttle down my urge to start writing fan fiction.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-87905576308946825572011-11-25T00:00:00.000-08:002011-11-25T09:35:07.306-08:00Super Ethical Thanksgiving Climax!You'll have to pardon the title, the beasty picked up Saints Row III (pre-ordered it, in fact) and has been playing it every day these last two weeks, so it may have had more than a little bit of an influence when I was constructing this post. However, I feel it represents the atmosphere of what I'm about to share with you - strange, but with excitement.<br />
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So (much) later today, my home will be taken over by dear friends and a special out-of-town guest for what we have labeled in the past "Friend Thanksgiving". Now, in truth, this is my only Thanksgiving. Last night we had meatloaf with gravy, mashed potatoes, stuffing, broccoli, and pie. You must understand, my minions, that we really don't have any family out here, and to us the point of Thanksgiving is not just to eat lots of food, but to eat lots of food surrounded by people you love. I come from a fair sized family, and until we moved out to the Pacific Northwest, was within a short drive of much of my mother's side of the family for all of my previous adult life. Thanksgiving has always been a social event for me - that's what made it matter.<br />
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So, lacking local family, but understanding that our friends still have familial obligations on the day of, we decided to save our effort and host an event on Friday. Now, all of that out of the way, let us get to the important part of this post. The menu.<br />
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At last year's Thanksgiving I had decided to try something different and put together a meal based around dishes inspired by ingredients native to the Pacific Northwest (and it went over quite well, I am happy to say). This year, when considering what to make, and keeping in mind that everyone would be having the standard fair the day before, I had a flash of inspiration. So this year, using traditional ingredients, I've constructed an Asian Fusion menu. Which I will now share with you.<br />
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<br />
<ul><li><b>Mandarin Spinach Salad </b></li>
<li><b>Cucumber Nori Salad</b></li>
<li><b>Green bean & Shitake Stir Fry</b> - my answer to the traditional green bean casserole</li>
<li><b>Sweet Potatoes with Wasabi Teriyaki Glaze</b> - made with wasabi mustard instead of paste in order to get a good flavor with less severe of a kick</li>
<li><b>Oyster Yaki</b> - inspired by takoyaki, this is my interpretation of a traditional oyster stuffing</li>
<li><b>Sesame Slow Roasted Carrots</b></li>
<li><b>Cantonese Style Roast Turkey</b> - this is an adaptation of Cantonese Crispy Duck, only for turkeys</li>
<li><b>Cranberry Pineapple Ginger Compote</b> - some might argue I should have used orange, but I despise cranberry-orange anything</li>
<li><b>Pumpkin Pie Ice Cream Mochi</b> - the beasty actually suggested these when I realized I had initially forgotten dessert in my menu planning, and then offered to make them because he rocks</li>
<li><b>Green Tea Cupcakes</b> - a layer cake would have been more impressive, but after everything else I decided cupcakes would be less stressful</li>
</ul><br />
<br />
I leave you with this teaser picture of the cupcakes, which I baked early and will frost today. On Monday I'll post pictures and give full reports of how everything came out and tasted, etc and so forth.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiblrEfkrzRyTiwlbpwno92HvfS20dbmagTA0jCY1VPkAXyBjxuOYRqypnd7TlNKKi6p6Q8upA9HygsFl1IKtg3njQIpraZ02_bc78vwZA8saPaSPJtMa7ey4q3kQrkrA7KPwwIXNv7QXQ/s1600/DSCF0349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiblrEfkrzRyTiwlbpwno92HvfS20dbmagTA0jCY1VPkAXyBjxuOYRqypnd7TlNKKi6p6Q8upA9HygsFl1IKtg3njQIpraZ02_bc78vwZA8saPaSPJtMa7ey4q3kQrkrA7KPwwIXNv7QXQ/s400/DSCF0349.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-67665880225179961632011-11-21T00:00:00.000-08:002011-11-21T00:17:11.922-08:00"Prince of Darkness" used to mean somethingAnyone who knows me will probably be able to tell you that I have, for as long as I can remember, been a fan of most things vampiric. Hence why this catastrophic phenomenon of sparkling vampires is so crushing to me. However, we're not here to speak of the mournful assassination of both the novel and the vampire at once by a certain Mormon author. Today we're here to talk about something that I only recently became aware of. The vampire bite necklace.<br />
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Now, for clarification, I don't mean this:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2LqujCCqVUJPvovXpox4YH3lilHrMs9hWvVj0PJ6-N0g4Oqv-Sia7s5JPhlTjFmWhOzpZz5jFDIUnLRIjvWfmxl1lQB4oDqvTcG-bYn_i6o384XxWQH7DfuJrUe_QIAaUXmQ9dY-3sg/s1600/VampireBiteChoker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2LqujCCqVUJPvovXpox4YH3lilHrMs9hWvVj0PJ6-N0g4Oqv-Sia7s5JPhlTjFmWhOzpZz5jFDIUnLRIjvWfmxl1lQB4oDqvTcG-bYn_i6o384XxWQH7DfuJrUe_QIAaUXmQ9dY-3sg/s320/VampireBiteChoker.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clever, perhaps even elegant, with effort involved in its design.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
I mean this:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO5fYe0gonc2_jBCQ2J6OTUGYxN2pgk3AFfNonB0jVNZzEq4IyNxOK74CUI6doZzgWtrkFOa2KI1DIIsQ_vctiO7HR1wc8DhPlgwuC1faxAy0-RMRfcjJRrbo-HgA-zHx3xOrLA2mCJ9E/s1600/vampirebitenecklace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO5fYe0gonc2_jBCQ2J6OTUGYxN2pgk3AFfNonB0jVNZzEq4IyNxOK74CUI6doZzgWtrkFOa2KI1DIIsQ_vctiO7HR1wc8DhPlgwuC1faxAy0-RMRfcjJRrbo-HgA-zHx3xOrLA2mCJ9E/s320/vampirebitenecklace.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've got extra materials and five minutes, let's slap together something I can sell to Twilight fans.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
There is something about these necklaces that drive me crazy. In their very limited defense, they're subtle. I'm generally a fan of subtlty. That said, they're about the laziest creation on the planet. Seriously. Let's take a chain, stick two spaced out red gems on it, and call it a tribute to vampirism. They can be found all over Etsy. Observe:<br />
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<a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/55784681/vampire-bite-necklace?ref=sr_gallery_17&ga_search_submit=&ga_search_query=vampire+bite+necklace&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_ship_to=US&ga_search_type=handmade&ga_facet=handmade">Exhibit A</a><br />
<a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/64111107/halloween-vampire-bite-necklace-vampire?ref=sr_gallery_13&ga_search_submit=&ga_search_query=vampire+bite+necklace&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_ship_to=US&ga_search_type=handmade&ga_facet=handmade">Exhibit B</a><br />
<a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/62462900/vampire-bite-necklace-sterling-silver?ref=sr_gallery_5&ga_search_submit=&ga_search_query=vampire+bite+necklace&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_ship_to=US&ga_search_type=handmade&ga_facet=handmade">Exhibit C</a><br />
<a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/73726888/vampire-necklace-vampire-jewelry-vampire?ref=sr_gallery_6&ga_search_submit=&ga_search_query=vampire+bite+necklace&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_ship_to=US&ga_search_type=handmade&ga_facet=handmade">Exhibit D</a><br />
<a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/62718220/vampire-bite-necklace-sterling-silver?ref=sr_gallery_1&ga_search_submit=&ga_search_query=vampire+bite+necklace&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_ship_to=US&ga_search_type=handmade&ga_facet=handmade">Exhibit E</a><br />
<br />
You get the idea. I have ten more in different windows of my browser right now, and they all look the same save for small, largely insignificant differences. And they all make me twitch a little inside. Popular culture needs to stop trying to rob me of everything I once found dark and beautiful.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793086135459599125.post-6137805441459974882011-11-18T00:00:00.000-08:002011-11-18T10:49:47.605-08:00They're less...abrasive than you might expectSo, we're still knee deep in NaNoWriMO (don't ask me how I'm doing, I don't want to talk about it) but I didn't want to put up another sad excuse for a blog entry. So I decided to just write about something easy instead. Today I am sharing with you what has quickly become my favorite web comic.<br />
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<a href="http://thepunchlineismachismo.com/">Manly Guys Doing Manly Things</a> is written by Kelly Turnbull, whom the internet knows as Coelasquid. The comic only updates once a week, which makes me a little sad, but I respect that Kelly is a full-time professional animator and that this is just her fun little side project. The comic follows the adventures of a temp agency deisgned to help integrate ridiculously macho guys back into society. The head of the agency is one Commander Badass (yes, that is the only name you get for him). It parodies comics and video games, so expect to see Kratos, Sten, Duke Nukem, Leonidas, and many others. <br />
<br />
In Kelly's own words: "Sometime this is a comic about macho action heroes. Sometimes this is a slice of life comic about a time traveling Navy SEAL single dad from the nonspecific spacefuture. Really, it just depends on how things were going that day."<br />
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Also, if you go into the "Extras" section, she has a handful of other silly comics. My favorite of these is posted below. I'm not posting anything from Manly Guys because I want you all to actually go read it. Go, my minions!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtK-FSl5JgOCxQDvdq3fQZY3Fpz9klXHlsQd9WuxIhmJGD8ARBgWxH1GbrkVrmwuAPeW0r8_WEcrS3ejQQK8ny0Y_iVzaeUlW81JUGyifQscC9bwNFomb0UCqixnl1z_h9EbF9U53Fx0I/s1600/staaaars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtK-FSl5JgOCxQDvdq3fQZY3Fpz9klXHlsQd9WuxIhmJGD8ARBgWxH1GbrkVrmwuAPeW0r8_WEcrS3ejQQK8ny0Y_iVzaeUlW81JUGyifQscC9bwNFomb0UCqixnl1z_h9EbF9U53Fx0I/s640/staaaars.jpg" width="448" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by Kelly Turnbull. If you don't recognize the characters, go play more video games.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03130377887955401787noreply@blogger.com0