Monthly Archives: September 2011

Why Won’t You Hold My Hand?

Oh, well this might explain some things.

In case you don’t understand how awesome this is, here’s a close-up:

This is the Skeleton Hand Bracelet from designer Delfina Delettrez (check the site – she has many mad creations). It is available as solid silver or solid gold. The carpal bones are covered in small diamonds and it has a big, fat ruby. What is the function? Letting the world know that you have future plans that may involve a Necronomicon. What is the price tag? Between $23,000 and $25,500, depending where you get your fancies. With that money I could just dig up my own skeleton and glue glitter and rubies on it myself.

That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea…

Interpretive Dances

Have you ever watched a movie and gone, “Yeah, that would be great as a Cabaret act!” Then you’ve probably been watching movies on LSD. I’ve learned this from picking up new “interpretations” of some of my favorite films around the Internet.

First a little French Disco number:

(If you follow Everything Is Terrible you would’ve caught this a few days ago.)

And an old favorite that I frightened my friends with when I was busy obsessing over Watchmen (this is a bit NSFW):

No post Monday because I was in a complete and utter psychotic meltdown. I finally realized that I needed to come off my new epilepsy meds. I’ve only been taking them for less than a month, but they’ve been making me trip out more than the makers of the videos up above. I’m getting a few days to let my brain rest before trying out whatever fresh hell the doctor has prescribed for me now.

The Recovery Unit

I’m doing fine now. I lived through the gut-wrenching ordeal, but I neglected my other duties. Meaning I don’t have a post today. To make it up to everyone, here’s a puppy wearing headphones:

(Via We Heart It where I get a lot of tumblr images.)

I Apparently Eat Nothing But Raw Sewage

I have a stomach virus again. This is the second time this summer. I’m still counting it as summer since the Equinox hasn’t happened. I don’t know why I’m sick. There is no rhyme or reason to this illness. I think this is it for me, guys. I don’t think I’m going to make it. When I go, I want you to remember me fondly and pass on my great deeds!

Here are some Get Well cards for me. If you have anything to lay upon my feet, leave it in the comments section. Or not. I understand that you may keep a moment of silence instead:


(Via Someecards.)

Merry Belated Con-Mas

And BAM! I’m back. I spent the last week at Mom’s. I have a tendency to forget about the Internet when I’m at her place, which is sanity saving. For this last week it was especially good for my health because all of my Atlanta buddies were at the great big ol’ Dragon*Con.

I stopped going to Dragon*Con before I left Atlanta. It’s hard to summarize my history with the Con. My first experience was overwhelming and almost magical for a little geek girl (eugh, almost makes it sound dirty… it kinda is). As the years have gone by, though, each visit becomes more seemingly pointless. I have had great moments and awful ones each year, but I felt like the bad was starting to outweigh the good. So after 9 years, I hung up my badges.

Now when Labor Day rolls around it kinda feels like Christmas. When you are young, everything’s bright and shiny. You can hear music of yesteryear (albeit at the Con it’s 80’s music). There are people dressed as elves. You are on a vacation that you can spend with people you love – like Spike from Buffy or Jayne from Firefly. You can play games… possibly involving reindeer. There’s generally a loss of sleep and lots to eat and drink. At the end you come away with a lot of loot.

Compare to years later: You wonder why you drag yourself out to this ritual every year and hope your loved ones will be a little nicer/more interesting/less drunk than the year before. Checking your account balance you remember that every year you come away with waaaay too much stuff and should keep the crap to a minimum. Plus remember you have to get stuff for Mom and your friends, etc. As soon as the sun goes down you proceed to drink because that’s the best way to deal with that many people. Every year it seems like there are more of these damn kids with their iPads and their body paint and their Steampunk and their idontknowwhat. You still enjoy the music, but the bands still play at midnight and by then you are far too drunk to enjoy/stay awake. Or maybe it’s just because you’ve gotten old. In the end you leave wondering why you paid $120 bucks to see Capt. Picard from several hundred feet away. I can’t find out if he smells like cinnamon from that distance!

Not to sound bitter, but I kind of am. It was just too much for me, but when I see people post or hear about them going, there is a twinge of nostalgia and, maybe, jealousy in my heart. Maybe once I’ve healed I’ll go back. The Dragon is too big right now. If it ever becomes the comforting playland I once knew, I may return. Or if they bring back the Xena track.

Merry Con-Mas

(From my personal collection.)

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