tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76238463680900468902024-03-05T17:19:26.809-08:00The Seamstress of AvalonA blog of a crazed historical costumer/actress/writer/emotional fuckwit. Enjoy at your peril.Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.comBlogger972125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-23536811244570944082013-02-11T06:22:00.000-08:002013-02-11T06:22:40.540-08:00A Night of Movie Fashion . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnTHHqQ6-VB40URzD3w9VOXCxQC6B6bWOOfDNM5zL-p6OhmfAzaGRBIoo8Y1Tg95KZ7T92pdo7G1y9BRnkfDXXkiGF7lMZJs4lac3k9rrNpLJ5gtNTQ2OPDsEFS5kzh4LIu9Ws4JcFRxQ/s1600/IMG_1515%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnTHHqQ6-VB40URzD3w9VOXCxQC6B6bWOOfDNM5zL-p6OhmfAzaGRBIoo8Y1Tg95KZ7T92pdo7G1y9BRnkfDXXkiGF7lMZJs4lac3k9rrNpLJ5gtNTQ2OPDsEFS5kzh4LIu9Ws4JcFRxQ/s400/IMG_1515%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>Me in front of a few costumes from The Hunger Games</em></div>
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I was extremely priviledged in having the opportunity to attend the gala opening of <a href="http://fidmmuseum.org/exhibitions/current/" target="_blank">FIDM's Film Costume Exhibit</a> this last Saturday. It was an exciting evening and an unprecedented chance to get to see costumes--and costume designers!--up close. I was on Cloud 9 all night, and I still am a little bit :)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_Mn_IPYIuahR5nKx-4xKP8BrpY5w_9iiXnRCPHcszz34gTW-kAP4ZpXUetJlnXEXT7oKKhspGgCVcqSE2Yqi2Y4eqO9TOdbNqWp12RmXSDIJFX1aVMBrwp9OahI6_91S2YprFjK-Po8/s1600/IMG_1513%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_Mn_IPYIuahR5nKx-4xKP8BrpY5w_9iiXnRCPHcszz34gTW-kAP4ZpXUetJlnXEXT7oKKhspGgCVcqSE2Yqi2Y4eqO9TOdbNqWp12RmXSDIJFX1aVMBrwp9OahI6_91S2YprFjK-Po8/s400/IMG_1513%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>The armor dress from Snow White and the Huntsman</em></div>
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I took pictures of course, but these are just a few; my friend and partner in crime Freya (responsible for my invitation), took many more, and here's a link to her Flickr album:</div>
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/peddler_creates/sets/72157632734046646/">http://www.flickr.com/photos/peddler_creates/sets/72157632734046646/</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo-cYjexajwZoHv2fwuHPCzIgaqkrzrOAUSu3WCalJ9o3NHEY7FnUl4t_WFgBKZripMg-Ql0t-2-UMx8-Kqy-f3mA-1NfP3lNJLEi-PdyzV5gwuBjKXjX51_9pWmqcRj2QLQSUiKa-Wd8/s1600/IMG_1435%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo-cYjexajwZoHv2fwuHPCzIgaqkrzrOAUSu3WCalJ9o3NHEY7FnUl4t_WFgBKZripMg-Ql0t-2-UMx8-Kqy-f3mA-1NfP3lNJLEi-PdyzV5gwuBjKXjX51_9pWmqcRj2QLQSUiKa-Wd8/s400/IMG_1435%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>Charlize Theron's wedding dress from Snow White and the Huntsman</em></div>
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<em>The beetle dress from Snow White and the Huntsman</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLro1YPnzznUfbig8mON100VhWO5TGU8lqvqIYK7pB8AWh_lCOxtrTcMYa8JvX_4ipkVA44lY1Kjx56NLsU2tWgN0FOswp7aOeckDZR4kHXBPEP1NV4kBTLrn8T90zLzlFV05hYA8FwG8/s1600/IMG_1485%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLro1YPnzznUfbig8mON100VhWO5TGU8lqvqIYK7pB8AWh_lCOxtrTcMYa8JvX_4ipkVA44lY1Kjx56NLsU2tWgN0FOswp7aOeckDZR4kHXBPEP1NV4kBTLrn8T90zLzlFV05hYA8FwG8/s400/IMG_1485%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>The Peacock dress from Mirror Mirror</em></div>
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Finally getting the chance to see both Eiko's and Colleen's work up close was really something special; I felt a little teary looking at the incredible workmanship, the fabrics, the insane details. I also felt a little like a docent all night; every time I was standing near a set of costumes and I'd hear someone wondering aloud about something, I would automatically answer them. I do so much research into these costumes that I just can't help myself, I guess :) I ended up speaking to a few journalists for a bit because of it!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3FuEbaL1uoQ9_hXr4SL5mui7aXcvpfhzsCPheyEdMpS7bP9N_AertdtNSppZZbYydNXtVtFWWWMYuTcyRSGxtR7Q_z0uXCuu5YAjTYczeza5kCRUAhP3BgEuXvCD7xEfgVAKuWiEAvts/s1600/IMG_1452%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3FuEbaL1uoQ9_hXr4SL5mui7aXcvpfhzsCPheyEdMpS7bP9N_AertdtNSppZZbYydNXtVtFWWWMYuTcyRSGxtR7Q_z0uXCuu5YAjTYczeza5kCRUAhP3BgEuXvCD7xEfgVAKuWiEAvts/s400/IMG_1452%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>Snow White Swan Dress from Mirror Mirror</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNEx-2ZZJlUvny6cxXdaeN9pNsoVK-kY8zwuXlgK0GWhHHkllsX1_MnwbtQN3cpnHQO8dZMtxl_SyMZZr9k95GUKZNHAMYuOoMuvOuys4kpGLj1hagLUU3iWlfOEuQ2GUY0jL_YDF-ka8/s1600/IMG_1451%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNEx-2ZZJlUvny6cxXdaeN9pNsoVK-kY8zwuXlgK0GWhHHkllsX1_MnwbtQN3cpnHQO8dZMtxl_SyMZZr9k95GUKZNHAMYuOoMuvOuys4kpGLj1hagLUU3iWlfOEuQ2GUY0jL_YDF-ka8/s400/IMG_1451%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>The Prince's costume from Mirror Mirror</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYO1QzkFod_2YDDSlFnIHchSn9w_rvAGmvSeSav7OVH3iO4T1wkAhVA0NqU7kFGAjB6tvQSqC83CHIFaLSZb99EiiMGIeHZpk3UQSkh6P0OuU298fsEuWNkqUaXy2afa7y7rwuS0WoGRA/s1600/IMG_1432%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYO1QzkFod_2YDDSlFnIHchSn9w_rvAGmvSeSav7OVH3iO4T1wkAhVA0NqU7kFGAjB6tvQSqC83CHIFaLSZb99EiiMGIeHZpk3UQSkh6P0OuU298fsEuWNkqUaXy2afa7y7rwuS0WoGRA/s400/IMG_1432%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>Costumes from the Artist</em></div>
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The only designer I really had the chance to speak with was Mark Bridges, who designed the Oscar-winning costumes from the <em>Artist </em>and the nominated costumes from this year's <em>The Master</em>. He was friendly, warm, and full of interesting tidbits; we spoke for several minutes, and I tried not to geek out too badly!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja54qF5iWXSevn390NBfUPH6pycUozY9J-a3085sJEy5qMZ85hD8NDyFDKZDtQ5oLOmxCdP86JNK7P1DUVohszGvp_Cg22AA359STZmoRaJQnuEEUJvfEEMsVyMzGxPkPnU4qMW4pay10/s1600/IMG_1431%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja54qF5iWXSevn390NBfUPH6pycUozY9J-a3085sJEy5qMZ85hD8NDyFDKZDtQ5oLOmxCdP86JNK7P1DUVohszGvp_Cg22AA359STZmoRaJQnuEEUJvfEEMsVyMzGxPkPnU4qMW4pay10/s400/IMG_1431%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>Costumes from the Avengers</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu7WOzl7mmX_AvJMd3oV1h0FImzVDd13w9kT5azXJD_tY7YnDCRgtxBX3y1-T78PIhE-Ci684C0dtt-zyeiNN8okcGWuoDDLSzZePBkix_v5qKQyubB80eozyN3p2Gb8tGaRsexYH-gRM/s1600/IMG_1444%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu7WOzl7mmX_AvJMd3oV1h0FImzVDd13w9kT5azXJD_tY7YnDCRgtxBX3y1-T78PIhE-Ci684C0dtt-zyeiNN8okcGWuoDDLSzZePBkix_v5qKQyubB80eozyN3p2Gb8tGaRsexYH-gRM/s400/IMG_1444%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>The Master</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJV5ED4NgKYjw3mnnnO2BcNb-DxLXsEJdIeUBP8Y8OxhyphenhyphenXmCX6rodA2wnIz5fu5ODO0gIbJVhvqoaLnvQBDt8n5An7szeCMKZPvYyATwbnTdntVUtJR5NI88ez9flD0NvWb74i_TvM1UQ/s1600/IMG_1446%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJV5ED4NgKYjw3mnnnO2BcNb-DxLXsEJdIeUBP8Y8OxhyphenhyphenXmCX6rodA2wnIz5fu5ODO0gIbJVhvqoaLnvQBDt8n5An7szeCMKZPvYyATwbnTdntVUtJR5NI88ez9flD0NvWb74i_TvM1UQ/s400/IMG_1446%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>Hitchcock</em></div>
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<em>Les Miserables</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOiCspkHBx6gX3nrTGiTUVVbY7z8ChtCGN3s_fnjbXTQqN8Rg_0okII4unY9IV-AW7sQ99k1JWaUI7S9XM4-XKeksa5zBqI6jbfqWp-un5jKIQ04W9HG2118KpHuVE8d0Im4TsXAvw0aE/s1600/IMG_1461%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOiCspkHBx6gX3nrTGiTUVVbY7z8ChtCGN3s_fnjbXTQqN8Rg_0okII4unY9IV-AW7sQ99k1JWaUI7S9XM4-XKeksa5zBqI6jbfqWp-un5jKIQ04W9HG2118KpHuVE8d0Im4TsXAvw0aE/s400/IMG_1461%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>John Carter</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcf_Aqvj0VUvcg4D7B0k5VsMiXVa3Cu-EegZt7yEKKXj7cBdm9xUHKI54GWawKwRD1t9zzMopAtEu840YHxo9fgf5YWQI0JBLixRhjTQWZ9bAMSgIdtZa4BHUD_AW4ZdYv-hQQZcL4Qqc/s1600/IMG_1459%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><em><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcf_Aqvj0VUvcg4D7B0k5VsMiXVa3Cu-EegZt7yEKKXj7cBdm9xUHKI54GWawKwRD1t9zzMopAtEu840YHxo9fgf5YWQI0JBLixRhjTQWZ9bAMSgIdtZa4BHUD_AW4ZdYv-hQQZcL4Qqc/s400/IMG_1459%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></em></a></div>
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<em>Dejah Thoris' wedding dress from John Carter</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0GTPNiJUdJWh7YSr4GuUEKxHiJZAUv8EohDXAlkFs7eIvAtrKM6nYPO_G7ut_Fl34s5Fne2h_iTdNVugHHQ417qdJZsdEAtAebow9T32-fn8lcuZs-N9MVca4BGbC-H9iP_JVuXUAN9s/s1600/IMG_1468%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0GTPNiJUdJWh7YSr4GuUEKxHiJZAUv8EohDXAlkFs7eIvAtrKM6nYPO_G7ut_Fl34s5Fne2h_iTdNVugHHQ417qdJZsdEAtAebow9T32-fn8lcuZs-N9MVca4BGbC-H9iP_JVuXUAN9s/s400/IMG_1468%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>Django Unchained</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZQ-gZD1SsJHodGdjxtXWHeZmeIA8mi2eQTt-nY6Uw7BnV3bTeompqrgz1aIqDiRk4rcItzAI1YHYPWYmnLanZIP0zcnUnAT125sFhWQDJU1etXXbMD96Q5__KLrsKJM-tNNoVAPLdw-A/s1600/IMG_1495%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZQ-gZD1SsJHodGdjxtXWHeZmeIA8mi2eQTt-nY6Uw7BnV3bTeompqrgz1aIqDiRk4rcItzAI1YHYPWYmnLanZIP0zcnUnAT125sFhWQDJU1etXXbMD96Q5__KLrsKJM-tNNoVAPLdw-A/s400/IMG_1495%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>Mary Todd Lincoln's dress from Lincoln</em></div>
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Getting to see costumes from<em> Lincoln</em> was another real treat; Joanna Johnston's attention to detail was astounding. Can you believe the dress above is an orange printed taffeta? Simply beautiful.</div>
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<em>Lincoln</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgNkLfzXAhC2uHVB0nSpogne7_VSwIjE8Aq_EsSxmvTAETH6wpMdtogqwi1GlMm_NAkPkmpj_jHIqb9oeSXYiuHHshUNvHh7C7czV_qHD_pHrbY47fib5xq7WSlqQHnDfhSimnPLfSJKI/s1600/IMG_1490%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgNkLfzXAhC2uHVB0nSpogne7_VSwIjE8Aq_EsSxmvTAETH6wpMdtogqwi1GlMm_NAkPkmpj_jHIqb9oeSXYiuHHshUNvHh7C7czV_qHD_pHrbY47fib5xq7WSlqQHnDfhSimnPLfSJKI/s400/IMG_1490%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>Lincoln</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FAyfrAqPPc5Gryd27y6FQwXxpRO_ANZDsV9eHRuUdEQw-L6JDqmliQZiqIVoiUjJZTRbdmzGmhxA2ZZaBzdWdavrqVp97gljtp3eyeNAGthjigeIEIJ3VzJtwERvZUsD4yDAwh05g94/s1600/IMG_1475%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FAyfrAqPPc5Gryd27y6FQwXxpRO_ANZDsV9eHRuUdEQw-L6JDqmliQZiqIVoiUjJZTRbdmzGmhxA2ZZaBzdWdavrqVp97gljtp3eyeNAGthjigeIEIJ3VzJtwERvZUsD4yDAwh05g94/s400/IMG_1475%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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<em>Lincoln</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwpo_x1fwoR1uSL_dxC15jNz4NyVVTW52E6cwt-OrC6AGXhPpKlO7akW8rQXb9Hi-6lH54vAlmBa7_90xJhQK-HNH7aZsAy1vFuoFJ6gm-2T_NHMW_mMa-m9KUu7vc_UIts0paO0-MEI/s1600/IMG_1514%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwpo_x1fwoR1uSL_dxC15jNz4NyVVTW52E6cwt-OrC6AGXhPpKlO7akW8rQXb9Hi-6lH54vAlmBa7_90xJhQK-HNH7aZsAy1vFuoFJ6gm-2T_NHMW_mMa-m9KUu7vc_UIts0paO0-MEI/s400/IMG_1514%5B1%5D.jpg" uea="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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The tents outside were quite swanky and those in attendance were many and varied: everything from formal wear to a girl in a coat covered in feathers and a woman wearing nothing but bloomers and a corset! There was even a guy in tails and a top hat, and girl with blue hair and a candy pink tutu :)</div>
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All in all, it was a fantastic evening. I didn't get to meet Colleen, but I know I'll get the chance to meet her someday, when the time is right. I'm so glad I got the chance to go, and I'll be having costume dreams for some time to come. . .</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-66896998445339672822012-12-20T07:38:00.000-08:002012-12-20T07:38:00.498-08:00End of Line<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzCoY69N-SgVRTrnZVr43pFsRAR0dDiRD-UEnzuYpVcgU0eWMx3hL95cJNkAY9p4SXtv1m-3o6r-hpvBALtKW-b94RmsAO45Hv2TN1rpzaT7eBfarO5OciIkf8JNEpcJb2X3a9qXie9sg/s1600/marsh_bridge_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzCoY69N-SgVRTrnZVr43pFsRAR0dDiRD-UEnzuYpVcgU0eWMx3hL95cJNkAY9p4SXtv1m-3o6r-hpvBALtKW-b94RmsAO45Hv2TN1rpzaT7eBfarO5OciIkf8JNEpcJb2X3a9qXie9sg/s400/marsh_bridge_large.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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What would you do if you knew it was your last day on Earth?</div>
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We all know the world is not ending tomorrow. We know the Mayans were simply ending a calendar, and this nonsense is a misunderstanding. But, the fervor with which some people have latched onto the idea of World's End is kind of telling in and of itself. Why are so many people so seemingly eager for the world to end?</div>
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You can argue that the breathless, panting, ghoulish excitement over endtimes is a bunch of nutters who get their kicks off of shared schadenfreude. Some people really want to see a nuclear holocaust, or a huge earthquake, or another mass shooting. We won't concern ourselves with those people.</div>
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Instead, I suspect that at least some of the people who can't stop talking about apocalypse are entranced because they see it as a way out of the terrible all around them. Twenty children dead. Poverty. Heartache. Rampant intolerance and hatred of other. Perhaps the end of the world seems like a good way to wrap it all up in a neat bow and do away with what sometimes feels like a broken society.</div>
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But, I think all this doomsday talk actually might serve a better purpose. So many of us (myself included) exist in a perpetual state of waiting: waiting for a better job, a better relationship, a nicer house, a time of financial stability, a baby, whatever. Waiting to be happy. But, whether the world ends tomorrow or 300,000,000,000 years from now, none of us is promised the future. We shouldn't be sitting around and waiting for "a time when". We should be trying to make each now the most important.</div>
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So, what would you do today if you knew it was your last day on Earth? Would you hug your family? Have a huge party? Go on a binge? Sit with a good book? Whatever your personal answer is (unless it's about harming yourself or someone else) DO IT. Do it today. Let's make December 20th a day for having no regrets. Tell the people you love that you love them, and then when December 21st comes around and we're all still here, do it all again.</div>
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I know what I'll be doing today. Do you?</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>
Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-63946779921729344322012-12-17T09:59:00.001-08:002012-12-17T10:02:30.820-08:00An Unexpected Journey<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1koLQ1l7otzv3Wjj6SrHHhidyLuonMzBoJLWxn-ag_D6JX5geN_am-HUux7tWwc44mk2vordpN_bry7PqkllPQZSloFRxjH3B1PshSk21YiBKSAYHlavlZ3muZRxKmBW4gJKCzk3hxVw/s1600/150_MainImage___Selected.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1koLQ1l7otzv3Wjj6SrHHhidyLuonMzBoJLWxn-ag_D6JX5geN_am-HUux7tWwc44mk2vordpN_bry7PqkllPQZSloFRxjH3B1PshSk21YiBKSAYHlavlZ3muZRxKmBW4gJKCzk3hxVw/s400/150_MainImage___Selected.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I saw the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0903624/" target="_blank">Hobbit</a> in 3D IMAX glory, and HFR to boot. Try saying all that 10x fast. On second thought, don't. Also, not so sure about 3D IMAX HFR in general, but more on that in a minute. <span style="color: red;">There are some spoilers ahead,</span> so if you haven't seen it and don't want to know ANYTHING about it, stop reading here.</div>
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First, a general review:</div>
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I quite enjoyed it. It did follow the book, for the most part, and where it deviated I wasn't too upset about that. The deviations either gave more backstory (as with the prologue) or set up future films (as with the Radagast detour). I did feel that Jackson was a tad self-indulgent at times; the intro at Bag End with Bilbo and Frodo was too long, and I felt it was pretty much unecessary except as a way for Jackson to sigh and revel in the world he loves so well. His love of Middle Earth is evident everywhere on screen, and though some shots or sequences linger a bit on the long side (did we need to see so much of the dwarves just walking?) I forgave him for this. I wasn't bored, and there was a lot of eye-candy.</div>
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I have to say a few words on a few individual performances. Firstly: <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0293509/" target="_blank">Martin Freeman</a> is one of my favorite actors, so I am a tad biased, but I thought he brought a wonderful awkward, funny humanity (Hobbinity?) to Bilbo that a film with such scope truly needs. He had impeccable timing too; most of the laughs came from the way he said a line rather than the line itself, and that's a credit to him.</div>
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Second: Jesus Christ, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0785227/" target="_blank">Andy Serkis</a>. I am definitely a fan of his; if there were an Andy Serkis Day parade, I would march in it with a huge banner. The ten minutes he spends on screen are packed with so much emotion, nuance, menace, pathos and just sheer awesomeness that I wanted to spend more time with him. The give-and-tale between him and Martin Freeman (shot on Martin's very first week on set!) was really, really interesting to watch. It brought back everything that was terrifying, and sad, about Gollum. And, the evolution of the CGI for Gollum was marked and extraordinary; he looked really amazing in this film, an improvement in expressiveness I didn't know was needed until I saw the results onscreen.</div>
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Third: the dwarves, and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0035514/" target="_blank">Richard Armitage</a> (Thorin) in particular. The actors had a really tough job playing parts with few lines, knowing they would be difficult if not impossible to tell apart and would mostly fade together in memory. Though costume and makeup were relied on to distinguish them for the most part, the truly memorable dwarves like Thorin (obviously), Bofur (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0626362/" target="_blank">James Nesbitt</a>), Fili and Kili (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0641063/" target="_blank">Dean O'Gorman</a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm2636108/" target="_blank">Aidan Turner</a>), and Balin (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0832792/" target="_blank">Ken Stott</a>) were not memorable for their beards. They managed to shine through their costumes.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Qr8sctdz7Gt9zPbFAoL__KGBNyFEyaQ2pNT6c2yVL9D7onecaSdV9NXhqHyaaYBNTia4X7VUGadmq7cPl7-Q7aDkPKghjrFVb_XvPmIFU5wFOL-SDzjDYc4bhcNFIHAQBDMoHRfNzI0/s1600/hobbit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Qr8sctdz7Gt9zPbFAoL__KGBNyFEyaQ2pNT6c2yVL9D7onecaSdV9NXhqHyaaYBNTia4X7VUGadmq7cPl7-Q7aDkPKghjrFVb_XvPmIFU5wFOL-SDzjDYc4bhcNFIHAQBDMoHRfNzI0/s640/hobbit.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Now, for what you're really here to hear about: the costumes.</div>
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When I first learned that Ngila Dickson was not doing design duties on the Hobbit trilogy, I was a little miffed. Would the design team of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1396964/" target="_blank">Bob Buck</a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0556473/" target="_blank">Ann Maskrey</a> be able to take on the complexities of Middle Earth cultures, preserving the look or LOTR while adding something new? Neither designer has many actual design credits: Buck has designed for television, and Maskrey has been largely an assistant and cutter on large films. But, that's not to say they aren't capable; that's where you start, after all, and this is truly a test of mettle for them. Do they succeed?</div>
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Well . . .</div>
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Yes and no.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUDhk_SOooCCvffUalh8LHL_qrlZbtIsfo9oFlT28rznHlestZBcr7S66aCEv9SQCEXaJhwZml9qSUzzLQNI5Bwg6XCZyhte_T7abyIXsXoky8mQ1uJF0EuuPoglxEa303EqeQH4XhKdY/s1600/The+Hobbit_+An+Unexpected+Journey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUDhk_SOooCCvffUalh8LHL_qrlZbtIsfo9oFlT28rznHlestZBcr7S66aCEv9SQCEXaJhwZml9qSUzzLQNI5Bwg6XCZyhte_T7abyIXsXoky8mQ1uJF0EuuPoglxEa303EqeQH4XhKdY/s400/The+Hobbit_+An+Unexpected+Journey.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The unique problem of having thirteen fucking dwarves to create would give any designer a heart-attack, and to then need to make each one distinctive while working together as a whole is a nightmare. For the most part, I felt they did a wonderful job with the dwarves, especially with Thorin, whose armor and leather greaves were things of beauty, and whose mail was awesome. But, I found the hair and beards a trifle distracting, rather than distinctive. This may have been an issue of seeing it in HFR (more on that later), but at one point I found myself staring at one of the beards, an appliance that sported two braids that turned up like Pippi Longstocking, and I spent several moments trying to spot the wires instead of watching the action. Hats and hair: those were the watchwords for the dwarves, and while this worked for some characters, it detracted from others, looking less like <em>clothing</em> and more like <em>costume</em>. This is a danger in any fantasy film, and one LOTR sidestepped cleanly, but that the Hobbit seems to be stumbling into.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirG6xf4hqZn8slWHyFMK3tOzNGCoyDVygc9-tXutpL8blZ9ATkXgvJyxMGnyH_Nwf9n6TOl-7SmvJsoCREcA9iWffdzIgRT_-wq1YthBvtVzSz5oEk6DXlZiDfGQIPLZf5U1F6q6mFUVY/s1600/hobbit2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirG6xf4hqZn8slWHyFMK3tOzNGCoyDVygc9-tXutpL8blZ9ATkXgvJyxMGnyH_Nwf9n6TOl-7SmvJsoCREcA9iWffdzIgRT_-wq1YthBvtVzSz5oEk6DXlZiDfGQIPLZf5U1F6q6mFUVY/s400/hobbit2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Bilbo's costumes, however, were lovely. Nothing to criticize here. He had the look of a well-to-do Hobbit through and through.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvjMOnhFiLs5t-mf8UUQJ56rvoJvE4nUeq7nFHLSO6NedtIaVr7HBMPAIXUh6bqtKaprNjMt25gcpya5apqZ-tjuy3p-kHaCWpfpcq_tdrMX_6VcojTZNzWQzLds2B0UFYDlS5D-Nzd-c/s1600/GandalfRadagastScreenshot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvjMOnhFiLs5t-mf8UUQJ56rvoJvE4nUeq7nFHLSO6NedtIaVr7HBMPAIXUh6bqtKaprNjMt25gcpya5apqZ-tjuy3p-kHaCWpfpcq_tdrMX_6VcojTZNzWQzLds2B0UFYDlS5D-Nzd-c/s400/GandalfRadagastScreenshot.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Gandalf was his usual, familiar look, though I was distracted by the slightly different staff this time around; each time it appeared I found myself wondering: <em>could they not find the old prop? Was this a continuity error? Is his staff broken at some point between now and LOTR and I've forgotten?</em> The silver scarf was a little Vegas for me, but it is specifically mentioned in the book. However, I suspect HFR strikes again in terms of how glittery-fake the fabric appeared; in normal rate the fabric probably looked fine.</div>
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Radagast's costume was actually delightful. Not much to add here, except: BUNNY SLEIGH! That is all.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRqVV2idM9dImbgOjzDer3MbJIeKbwHq_CaozdW2pw0YMPEFgiE1N_fFkRLgIu7IO2cnqf4Z3ZqSt5wauhmiGD6b5hdA_0uwCEVs-SdCObvY07pYCZb7S2V1qFHIuRx0pUyJTivmZ_WpY/s1600/tumblr_mdcrbaRvim1qcana2o1_400.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRqVV2idM9dImbgOjzDer3MbJIeKbwHq_CaozdW2pw0YMPEFgiE1N_fFkRLgIu7IO2cnqf4Z3ZqSt5wauhmiGD6b5hdA_0uwCEVs-SdCObvY07pYCZb7S2V1qFHIuRx0pUyJTivmZ_WpY/s400/tumblr_mdcrbaRvim1qcana2o1_400.png" width="245" /></a></div>
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The elves were where I really started to have issues with the costuming. Though Elrond first appears in a truly beautiful set of armor (in purple, for whatever reason), the rest of his looks I found bland. It was as though someone who had been used to having all his garments tailor-made suddenly started shopping at Elf-GAP. I really felt the costumer's lack of experience showed here; the purple and rust-colored robes he wears lacked the individual style and details of his garments in LOTR. Where was the embroidery? the recurring figural motifs? At one point another elf appears dressed nearly identical to Elrond in the White Council scene, and I sighed in exasperation.</div>
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Oh dear. Then we have Galadriel. I'm not going to deny that she was shot beautifully; the light coming from behind her in the scene with Gandalf is breathtaking. But, her dress? It seemed designed only to trail artfully behind her. The silhouette was lovely, but the devil is in the details, and the details were not impressive. When we are given a closeup, we see not the incredible botanical embroidery and hand-beadwork from Fellowship, but a Vegas-y trail of--is that <em>rhinestones?</em> It was plain and boring and looked amateurish when compared to other things designed for her. The tiny rhinestiones just dripped down in uniform lines, and looked as though they couldn't even be bothered to not make it look like an iron-on transfer. And the hideous grey overdress she wears when we first see her? What? Why? It seems to serve no purpose whatsoever, and disappears a few moments later.</div>
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However, with Thranduil they shine. We see him for only a few moments onscreen, but he looks really distinct and impressive, and I'm seriously looking forward to seeing more of him in the next film. Perhaps with the well-known characters the costumers felt intimidated by what had come before and played it too safe, but here was a character that was all their own, and it showed.</div>
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A word about seeing the film in IMAX HFR. I'm not certain I would do it again. There were things about it I liked: it was definitely clearer. But, at times it was just<em> too</em> clear. I noticed details I know I wasn't supposed to see, appliances started to look fake, rather than like seamless movie magic, and fabric that would have no doubt seemed fine suddenly looked weird and over-bright (like Gandalf's scarf). I have read some interviews with the art department about what a nightmare it was at times to work in HFR; everything had to be absolutely perfect or it would show, and the colors and tones were all terribly messed up by the 3D cameras. I can't imagine how hard it made their jobs. I'm just not sold on HFR yet.</div>
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Overall, I did enjoy the Hobbit and I am looking forward to the next installment. I don't think I'll be dreaming up any reproductions based on the costumes, however. But, Thorin might be showing up in a few naughty dreams for a while (sigh . . .) ;)</div>
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Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-40467128672923788472012-12-05T08:06:00.001-08:002012-12-05T12:30:00.559-08:00In Trutina . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<em><span style="font-size: x-small;">*This is not a costuming post, so I apologize in advance for that. Recent events inspired me to write this today.</span></em></div>
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The last few weeks, one of the bloggers I read on a semi-regular basis came out as a bisexual, a trip that was extremely difficult for him, coming from a Mormon background. I've been reading his self-revelatory posts and looking introspectively at my own journey to get here, and I'm amazed at how difficult it still is to confess my sexuality to people.</div>
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I am not straight. It's been my truth for many years; I have known it of myself since I was a teenager, though looking back through the years I think I have known it much longer than that (though my first attraction to a girl was in high school). She was funny, snarky, pretty, and just a little tough (which seems to be my type). I even had the sense once that she might have had an idea I was interested in her . . . and she pulled away from me in discomfort, so that became my impression: neither boys nor girls are into me, so I'd better give up now. I never told her or anyone how I felt, scared that I was gay. I was raised Catholic but I never had any fear that my family wouldn't accept me as a lesbian. It was more a fear of being <em>abnormal</em> . . . something I alreadywas in so many ways: abnormally mature, abnormally serious, abnormally smart or talented (we're talking high school, when I was in front of the curve). I did not have any gay friends back then, but I completely and utterly accepted that being gay was okay, and nothing unusual. Just not for <em>me</em>. And, I was hopelessly into boys too. My attraction to this girl just confused and scared me, and I let it go. </div>
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I got a crush on another girl in college, this time a petite, pretty, sweet girl that I wanted to make tea and cookies for. Again, I never said a word, and again I had the feeling at one point that she picked up on it and was weirded out, so I pulled away. We didn't speak after the show we did together. I still think of her sometimes. I still didn't really have any gay friends at this point either, and my only real, practical experience was in the vehemence with which some of the guys I knew proclaimed their heterosexuality. Guys who seemed obviously gay, and who still crowed from the rooftops how much they liked girls, because it was still not okay, somehow. I ducked my head and only talked about the men I was hung up on, and ignored everything else.</div>
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I didn't actually fall for a girl until a few years ago, and though it was ultimately a painful experience it did help me to do something I hadn't been able to do before: admit that I am not straight. By this time many things had changed in my life: my circle of friends had grown and expanded tremendously to contain many, many happy, healthy, honestly gay people whose example was one to be admired and cherished . . . but most of all,<em> I</em> had changed enough to give this a real try. I fell hard, and it was the first time the girl in question was aware of how I felt and didn't shun me; in fact, she was the one who initiated the attraction. It ultimately didn't lead anywhere, but it was still a pretty big milestone for me. I came out quietly not long after, with no fanfare, and though I was intensely nervous over the revelation the reaction of friends and family was a resounding, "And . . .?" It was not news to any of them. So, I was bisexual. So what? </div>
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And yet, still, I find it difficult to confess this to people. I fear that girls I know who are simply friends will pull away when they find out, out of the irrational worry that I am trying to trick them into bed, or interested in "more" . . . which 99% of the time is NOT the case. I fear that men will be weirded out by it, perhaps thinking I am just a lesbian who's fooling herself, or will be perversely turned on by it (the thought of which is a little gross to me). And, I worry that others in the LGBT community will look at me like I'm some sort of fraud, that I'm not "gay-enough", that I don't belong. And, there is still a part of me, deep down, that feels <em>abnormal,</em> like this is okay for everybody else in the world, but for <em>me</em> it's wrong.</div>
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I don't know if I will eventually end up with a man or a woman, or which of those scenarios I prefer; I develop crushes on guys all the time (and am still persistently invisible/uninteresting to those guys), and I feel cautious attractions to girls too, from time to time. I try to be cavalier and casual about my sexuality, but it is still mostly bravado. I am 100% single right now, going on eight years, and I wonder how this dry-spell will break, and which gender it will be with. And if it is a girl that I ultimately form the deepest bond with, I wonder how long it will take before I stop feeling the fear that I must apologize for that. </div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-54064032181779281702012-11-29T09:25:00.000-08:002012-11-29T09:25:01.343-08:00It's time to light the lights . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I know it's taken me a few days to get around to it; I apologize to the readers who've been waiting with baited breath to hear about the shoot this weekend. For those of you who didn't know: I did wardrobe for a web series shoot this past weekend! Yay!</div>
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This pretty much sums up my feelings about the experience:</div>
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<em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Is this not the best GIF ever? Seriously.</span></em></div>
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I can't go into details really, but I will say that it was pretty damn fabulous to get the chance to do what I actually came out here to do for a change. Everybody involved were awesome, from the Director to the Production Coordinator to the Sound Guy to--well--<em>everybody</em>. It was a small shoot, and understandably so; there was a micro-budget and we really only had the two days to shoot as much as we possibly could. The hope is that what we managed to produce will be used in a Kickstarter to get more funding to shoot more episodes, and actually turn this into a Thing. I'll keep y'all posted on that.</div>
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For now, I'll just leave you with a few snippets from the weekend:</div>
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-Though I insisted I would not be any good at Production Design or prop-building, I nonetheless found myself spending close to two hours building a time machine out of tin-foil and . . . basically, tin-foil. I thought it turned out looking like an enormous Jiffy Pop <em>sans</em> popcorn, but everybody else seemed to think it was made of rainbows, and that was kind of awesome.</div>
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-I somehow created a ridiculously Steampunk character using nothing more than elements from a previous Halloween costume, a copper flare gun, and a borrowed tweed vest. BOOM.</div>
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-I am old. It has happened. I was doing makeup on one of the actors (they were all lovely, but most were significantly under the quarter-century mark), and I tossed off, "Never go up against a Sicilian when death is on the line!" thinking this would elicit chuckles at least. NOTHING. I said, "The Princess Bride?" hopefully. I got a, "Who's that?" in response. I am old.</div>
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-The highlight was, seriously, EVERYTHING. I just want to keep doing this, and get paid, and be able to suppport myself. On Monday, I was telling a coworker about my weekend in very vague terms, and he said, "You look relaxed." I wanted to tell him it was just exhaustion, but I realized I actually was kinda relaxed. This is what results from getting the chance to do what I love for a change. Go figure.</div>
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I hope that in five years or so I can be out of an office and in a wardrobe trailer on a set somewhere, full time. We'll see, dear readers.</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-57729194847338480792012-11-19T11:00:00.000-08:002012-11-19T11:00:19.704-08:00With Malice Toward None . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I saw <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0443272/fullcredits#cast" target="_blank">Lincoln </a>on Friday night.</div>
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Immediately on leaving the theatre, I made three phone calls: first to my sister. I gushed and cried. Then to my best friend B. I gushed and cried. Then to my mom. Ditto. It was after 10pm Chicago-time, but I did not hesitate to make any of these phone calls. I think I would have burst if I hadn't been able to speak to someone after that experience, and even after three calls I was still full of feeling.</div>
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We all know who Abraham Lincoln was, and the immense impact he had on the history and shaping of this country. And, I think most reading this review have seen more than one film about some historical figure, be it Napoleon or Kennedy or even Jesus Christ. Biopics tend to treat their subjects as larger-than-life, and we sit in awe as the events of history play out before us, the figure portrayed by some actor we recognize and try to forget in the guise of someone we've read about. Beloved historical figures are often treated as nearly god-like in films about them. We leave the theatre after these films with the sense of having seen the deeds of someone great, while not truly feeling any nearer that person.</div>
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Lincoln is not that film.</div>
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I can honestly say that I have never seen a biopic that made me feel more, personally, for the subject than this one. The Civil War, and Abraham Lincoln, are already deeply personal to me for obvious reasons, and so I expected to feel some emotional stake in the events onscreen. But, what Spielberg has managed to do is to put the viewer smack in the center of the room with the man. You cannot sit and watch. You must join in. Lincoln is not grandiose; he is a man, an extraordinary man, yes, but a man: funny, complicated, kind, fiercely intelligent, even gently conniving. Rarely have I ever <em>liked</em> a figure on film as much as I personally did by the end; here was a man I wanted to know, to sit with on a porch and talk with. Here was a man who made others better simply by being present. The tallest man in the room, always.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI7qGyCnkaUbdW6_FYp6Nefh4dDMpB7eFds2DAo24lD_f8F5SEZGxrhGDo0HzL9oKg0kHRf538DSqEpMF-XqkB76OTIDccm7y5KNKlPXDuYCqSFCiiTafqfR1WF3i88xtLmL1h_vhEaVU/s1600/sally-field-costume-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI7qGyCnkaUbdW6_FYp6Nefh4dDMpB7eFds2DAo24lD_f8F5SEZGxrhGDo0HzL9oKg0kHRf538DSqEpMF-XqkB76OTIDccm7y5KNKlPXDuYCqSFCiiTafqfR1WF3i88xtLmL1h_vhEaVU/s400/sally-field-costume-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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To compliment the film fully, I cannot just compliment Spielberg, naturally. I must talk about the incredible cast. Every single person brings their A-game, even those you barely see, even soldiers who do not get a name, or secretaries who handle his letters. <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000358/" target="_blank">Day-Lewis</a> gives a performance so striking in its natural flow that I never, for one moment, saw him onscreen. I saw Lincoln. He is completely and utterly the man, and if he does not win the Oscar this year, good God, I can't think who might beat him. <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000398/" target="_blank">Sally Field</a> plays Mary Todd with a barely contained intensity; not madness, but such heart-breaking misery at times that it was difficult to watch. She is always on edge without ever seeming to lurch into expected characature. <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000169/" target="_blank">Tommy Lee Jones </a>is powerful, hilarious, and deserves a supporting actor nod for his turn as Thaddeus Stevens, so instrumental in the passing of the 13th Amendment. And <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000657/" target="_blank">David Strathairn</a> deserves a nod as well for his understated and controlled portrayal of Lincoln's Secretary of State Seward, who is possibly the only man who can argue any opposing point with the President while still so clearly showing how he respects and loves the man. There are scores of others in the film who play meaningful and important roles and who I could mention here, but this review is too long already.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQOKkvsKdlIuUWuubzYO3o_ObPaJt0tkf8ppU_NLNokakkB6XgCurtIXZgXOFVxqMeBciNmCGa_S_pfdhYLo7oR1dURYBUkaNUX7eU56stAso27nFCa-_5pk7j_nx1O1kHVgLlnBlQ1Z4/s1600/lincoln-costume-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQOKkvsKdlIuUWuubzYO3o_ObPaJt0tkf8ppU_NLNokakkB6XgCurtIXZgXOFVxqMeBciNmCGa_S_pfdhYLo7oR1dURYBUkaNUX7eU56stAso27nFCa-_5pk7j_nx1O1kHVgLlnBlQ1Z4/s400/lincoln-costume-01.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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A few words on the superior costuming by <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0426693/" target="_blank">Joanna Johnston</a>: it is beautiful and incredibly specific; I watched the entire film with a critical eye, and I couldn't find a single flaw. Mary Todd Lincoln's dresses in particular were superb, even though I personally would never wear them. And, the men . . .! I cannot say enough. Flawless, right down to Stevens' horrible wig.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdqnKRF0DcwwkjArpm5WM2BvDUFMBHuqkeXn0AIY5KTbsr9gSvyd5FuSMs-5fIdj9DwAHPIhvrD9WFwRde-CNrOEEZbcw6LXtp7wGO1YmixlcxWeOldwRV9QclB1JKjnWnEmEo6JUUpGY/s1600/lincoln_med-640x360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdqnKRF0DcwwkjArpm5WM2BvDUFMBHuqkeXn0AIY5KTbsr9gSvyd5FuSMs-5fIdj9DwAHPIhvrD9WFwRde-CNrOEEZbcw6LXtp7wGO1YmixlcxWeOldwRV9QclB1JKjnWnEmEo6JUUpGY/s400/lincoln_med-640x360.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Everyone knows how Lincoln's story ends, with a fateful trip to Ford's Theatre. As the film reached that point, I felt my chest seize and a lump in my throat, and I began to cry unashamedly as the camera follows him out of the White House for the final time. This was not just a historical figure I had read about. Not even a figure I had seen portrayed by a friend or intereacted with. This was someone I suddenly felt as though I knew. I felt for the first time the depth of the country's loss, because it felt like <em>my</em> loss. Spielberg invited me into this man's life for a few weeks, and in the end I felt just how short a time that was. I wish I could adequately put it into words, but that is the best I can do. </div>
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See Lincoln. Even if you think you know the history and nothing can surprise you, I promise, you're wrong. You will be moved, and, if you're anything like me, you might be a little changed too.</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-72266541892008796502012-11-13T06:35:00.000-08:002012-11-13T06:35:25.126-08:00Big, Big, Big Day!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPYrdFELJNlcFHSfZ74UjGu0XWuYUaebWZGSVoZwm4cC70ybjrLfX-nhqHs8LGjs-U4y7W3lCVEsGSDmHGv1-M0vjsK3xLeNKFJIQuWkQR8xO8VLzY5vy2Oli7MIfILl5yUJcC9NxZ3Ic/s1600/IMG_1092.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPYrdFELJNlcFHSfZ74UjGu0XWuYUaebWZGSVoZwm4cC70ybjrLfX-nhqHs8LGjs-U4y7W3lCVEsGSDmHGv1-M0vjsK3xLeNKFJIQuWkQR8xO8VLzY5vy2Oli7MIfILl5yUJcC9NxZ3Ic/s400/IMG_1092.jpg" width="338" /></a></div>
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Yeah, it's been a while.</div>
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I'm trying to move this blog more towards what it was intended to be, a costuming/history blog, and in that effort I decided not to post until I had something, well, costume-y to post about. So . . . Halloween:)</div>
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After my original plans sort of didn't prove feasible (and based on my belief, backed by <em>science!,</em> that no one wants to see a fat girl in spandex) I decided the frigging week before Halloween to change my entire costume. Because I like an insane challenge.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi73kjRBi1flHkD6_YWC0qji20U7hCaxip1pNa9RjPJaNIsaiU-R0znav0MtyOKWLeB4VlA9KjTucgpYORl2WWtGazOMThC04H7qFeumJnnNAZVVLqUz6Wcju_JzK-rg_4gcD12n47Bn6w/s1600/402704_10150565161065919_624175918_9394950_586654604_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="313" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi73kjRBi1flHkD6_YWC0qji20U7hCaxip1pNa9RjPJaNIsaiU-R0znav0MtyOKWLeB4VlA9KjTucgpYORl2WWtGazOMThC04H7qFeumJnnNAZVVLqUz6Wcju_JzK-rg_4gcD12n47Bn6w/s320/402704_10150565161065919_624175918_9394950_586654604_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Every time I went into my workroom, the Effie fabric I bought so many months ago would mock me quietly. "Maybe you should make a pillow out of me!" it taunted. "I bet you could sell me on eBay, and <em>somebody</em> would make an Effie costume out of me!" it hissed, jeeringly. Yes, my fabric does this. Shut up. </div>
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Truthfully, I felt really guilty every time I saw the pile of Chinese brocade and the gold boots just sitting there, unused. So, I had a flash of brilliance (?) and decided, around Thursday the week before Halloween, that I would be Effie Trinket after all. No pressure or anything.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ401J5swHNCtDvAZfWp_AScczs5R7wPf6rW-w7zN7nhnImmdghSkJj2WraxFPeXilwdGt5OR1IkQr6kEQbgXybdG7LuQ-AtHWazU0DszX9x_KRo1vZ35XPYat0YLQa4_2YCysilVGjCU/s1600/IMG_1076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ401J5swHNCtDvAZfWp_AScczs5R7wPf6rW-w7zN7nhnImmdghSkJj2WraxFPeXilwdGt5OR1IkQr6kEQbgXybdG7LuQ-AtHWazU0DszX9x_KRo1vZ35XPYat0YLQa4_2YCysilVGjCU/s320/IMG_1076.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Saturday morning I got up at 7am and started laying out and cutting. I used a basic pencil skirt pattern; I don't even remember which one, and it doesn't matter. Any pencil skirt will do, as long as it's the correct length and it fits. Then, I used one of the darted bodice 1860's Martha McCain patterns from Simplicity for the jacket; I cut it like a Civil War bodice and fitted the lining, using a Sharpie to mark out the cuts for the armscyes and the opening in the front. It took a little while to get it right, but once I was happy I used the lining/mock-up to cut the outer fabric and once that was together, I made the shawl collar. Like a real kimono, this was not a curved piece; just one long, straight, folded over strip of fabric. I sewed the bodice together, leaving the armscyes and bottom edge open (for the pouf, which I was making Sunday). The belt was just a costume belt that I encased in the same fabric. Easy-peasy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSEcEQ_noMdIO1-s6FKfXyNvMlT3WguV-OsR9_xxfVKbD1sM4328vfrFNdLsaUR3Jivz5h7aJUn_XNzzo_K7KbigancUslWFZWyGYk0sGlVhnmPQmJ5Z9Ds8vx0vvq1Bg2069MIC2bVNw/s1600/IMG_1079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSEcEQ_noMdIO1-s6FKfXyNvMlT3WguV-OsR9_xxfVKbD1sM4328vfrFNdLsaUR3Jivz5h7aJUn_XNzzo_K7KbigancUslWFZWyGYk0sGlVhnmPQmJ5Z9Ds8vx0vvq1Bg2069MIC2bVNw/s320/IMG_1079.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Sunday dawned around 7am as well, and after a sudden brown-out (don't you love LA?) had me panicked, the power came back and I got back to work. I measured out 4 yards for the pouf. I had a couple choices: I could make it just a tube of gathered fabric, or I could reduce the bulk slightly and make the underside smooth, gathering the bottom and top edges of the pouf to it. I decided not to worry about bulk; after all, this was supposed to be a big bubble peplum, and I went with the gathered tube of fabric. I hand-gathered (I HATE machine gathering!) and then sewed the peplum to the jacket, the opening in front, and stuffed the pouf with tulle. The sleeves were next; no pattern, just eyeballed it. Once they were done I hand-stitched the armscyes closed and did the rest of the finishing hand-work.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_oNTTWvq5JRoGTybvF2ccE6zeGvynkwmitZQLsW9r-lXNoUWj08LQO64w2lQG1XkeEl73BdQczwiOzgOIuwH517Uo_MtM1d2poCyTLWBhZU12lRIw-bGj48V_NdfoofrK787HNRdHcU/s1600/IMG_1080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_oNTTWvq5JRoGTybvF2ccE6zeGvynkwmitZQLsW9r-lXNoUWj08LQO64w2lQG1XkeEl73BdQczwiOzgOIuwH517Uo_MtM1d2poCyTLWBhZU12lRIw-bGj48V_NdfoofrK787HNRdHcU/s400/IMG_1080.jpg" width="237" /></a></div>
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The under-blouse was just a dickey of cumin-colored silk taffeta; it took me around ten minutes to do that part:) The whole thing needs to be hit with the iron in this pic, but this was the first time I put it on the mannequin to look at it together.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1JchZZuNuMe-569W2AYIRTF0uGSXrbDPxpyy-QM_XJ34BZhHEDwyIzFN_gXlKQTb-ADVn0oGYo1WlqTXZ_Gxo0ohYSOc6mLg0F2R-uMq7f14ou6KfS-cA_feK-ZWzMpzRJ9PJkx2u0eM/s1600/IMG_1087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1JchZZuNuMe-569W2AYIRTF0uGSXrbDPxpyy-QM_XJ34BZhHEDwyIzFN_gXlKQTb-ADVn0oGYo1WlqTXZ_Gxo0ohYSOc6mLg0F2R-uMq7f14ou6KfS-cA_feK-ZWzMpzRJ9PJkx2u0eM/s640/IMG_1087.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
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And, <em>voila</em>! If I were to wear it again, I would find a method for getting the jacket to stay more closed in the front; my boobs are, after all, much larger than Elizabeth Banks';) Otherwise, I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_cgV51DBAUVgogR6aIzPqj0FxPx8ek1l9zi5-_2wfRwso915aNz-6qOrDOE-R1ue2ZYT2DcukDRXCRgHPTKNEHaZ5NrsWUe-elLtUNPzAqR2mLnGkmm80VJ8tnbL1O38HJqwmmPtnJ-4/s1600/IMG_1089.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_cgV51DBAUVgogR6aIzPqj0FxPx8ek1l9zi5-_2wfRwso915aNz-6qOrDOE-R1ue2ZYT2DcukDRXCRgHPTKNEHaZ5NrsWUe-elLtUNPzAqR2mLnGkmm80VJ8tnbL1O38HJqwmmPtnJ-4/s400/IMG_1089.jpg" width="151" /></a></div>
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I did do the little doo-hickie on the back of the skirt; I glimpsed it in one photo and improvised, figuring it would mimic an obi bow.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiVojCsHIRoVx2e1jViVObI_cYPl4m-tDCooPmm6sPyaL-HdfJGIxeZIRIuIwirNwrsx8l4wr1YLE1gSpFyVcK_7tjAfzGIfBO3BBpT15Yp2Bqt3my3-NQjLd-GjDqrsGm3tREYi848vw/s1600/IMG_1094.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiVojCsHIRoVx2e1jViVObI_cYPl4m-tDCooPmm6sPyaL-HdfJGIxeZIRIuIwirNwrsx8l4wr1YLE1gSpFyVcK_7tjAfzGIfBO3BBpT15Yp2Bqt3my3-NQjLd-GjDqrsGm3tREYi848vw/s640/IMG_1094.jpg" width="329" /></a></div>
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The gold silk looks really green here; unfortunately the flourescent lights in my office turned all the gold green and really washed out the makeup. Oh well. I did win the costume contest at my office, though:)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMNgyB8MLB8X9K8zI8wKidibs-w-hIeSEt5rSATyH5XJ8PT5zO4zv-MywGuhpmYuY47-I8uUwkXi2KizGuopPfFJwqHO8tlzjuOG2BbKF2q5AsU4g8L64Odb4twm_wdK-44ZcZ4D58Yas/s1600/effie+6.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMNgyB8MLB8X9K8zI8wKidibs-w-hIeSEt5rSATyH5XJ8PT5zO4zv-MywGuhpmYuY47-I8uUwkXi2KizGuopPfFJwqHO8tlzjuOG2BbKF2q5AsU4g8L64Odb4twm_wdK-44ZcZ4D58Yas/s320/effie+6.bmp" width="282" /></a></div>
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My pics ended up posted on Elizabeth Banks' website, along with many others who dressed as Effie for Halloween; I was tickled to see them added. I hope everyone jad a lovely holiday, and I'll do my best not to be so antisocial in the future:)</div>
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Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-41056462405559433522012-09-10T08:42:00.000-07:002012-09-10T08:42:27.184-07:00In the Dark . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today is World Suicide Prevention Day. If you or someone you know is thinking of suicide call 800-273-TALK, or <a href="http://take5tosavelives.org/">click here for resources.</a></div>
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I have taken a break the last month from blogging in an effort to get some shit in order and to try to move this blog more towards costuming and less towards me just bitching about stuff, which is not particularly useful to most people. But, today is an important day, I feel, so I wanted to say something about it.</div>
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Most of you who are more than casual readers to this blog know that I have contemplated suicide in the past, multiple times. I have gone down the dark road late at night when there is no one there. I have considered carefully the hows and whys of it, have thought about the ramifications to those left behind. I even went so far as to write a note once. I have felt muzzled by depression, felt ashamed. But, ultimately, I have reached out before taking action, usually to a friend or family member. I have realized that I did not want to die, I just wanted soeone to recognize the soul-crushing despair I was feeling.</div>
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This, I believe, is the tipping point for most people navigating through the dark. Is the despair too great to allow them to speak? Is the only action possible one of ending the pain? Or is there still enough will left for them to reach out one last time, and hope someone hears? I believe most people who ultimately commit suicide are unable to speak in those final hours. They cannot act in their own interest to make anyone see the despair; so often, friends and family say, "I never knew how bad it was. I never expected this."</div>
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Be aware. Take notice. Pay attention. I promise you, the people most at risk want you to see their pain, but they are unable to give it a voice. Reach out to the people who shy away, who shrug with indifference when you ask them how they are. Call the person you haven't spoken to in months, who pulls away from their friends. Don't take the easy answer when you know it isn't true; when the voice on the phone says, "Fine," and you know they feel the opposite. It is not easy to help someone who is suicidal. But, if you don't, if they cannot help themselves, who will?</div>
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Hug someone today, and make them feel less alone. It means so much.</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-36773722635053504992012-07-25T09:41:00.001-07:002012-07-25T09:41:10.878-07:00Rise.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJDrEEKXvCfD7pUswZzg7__5GRmP4A86cOkfx5TmLrT1QO_QzFEq1svZC5FCTn-YZH6ene4G9nFi3Q1KY9H1eVmJiB5i7CdLppkMz2kGq5qcMkhUa03UrBx1pAyM_kcgSIN_6j0Mjlsd0/s1600/the_dark_knight_rises_poster_lead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJDrEEKXvCfD7pUswZzg7__5GRmP4A86cOkfx5TmLrT1QO_QzFEq1svZC5FCTn-YZH6ene4G9nFi3Q1KY9H1eVmJiB5i7CdLppkMz2kGq5qcMkhUa03UrBx1pAyM_kcgSIN_6j0Mjlsd0/s640/the_dark_knight_rises_poster_lead.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This is not a review.</div>
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After I saw "The Dark Knight Rises" on Thursday night, that's what I intended to write. A long, spoilerriffic review of the final film of Nolan's epic Batman trilogy.</div>
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Then, James Holmes killed 12 people, and called himself the Joker. He dyed his hair and put on riot gear, and killed a six-year-old girl with an assault rifle. He injured 57 others.</div>
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Then, yesterday, <a href="http://www.denverpost.com/breakingnews/ci_21147699">Christian Bale visited some of the victims of that shooting</a>. He met with seven people still in the hospital in Aurora, CO, met with doctors and police, with some of the first-responders to the tragedy. He went only with his wife, no entourage. He specifically asked the hospital not to call the press. Of course, in the age of Twitter and Facebook, it was out within minutes.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidQMG2cmJC3TI7hTEBFX99faXZrS-tAWF1XaTxq2QdD_q5nh9n4BLHnLiFiqAMHe6U5qAdkKK2dEZNk49J8nHx9q9t7cxhgZQkGHSIhD5Xhow5kQnVgt5TBDUcz_lyZQvzmlv7vpqJ6IY/s1600/20120724__christian_bale_swedish_medical_aurora_theater_shooting~p1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidQMG2cmJC3TI7hTEBFX99faXZrS-tAWF1XaTxq2QdD_q5nh9n4BLHnLiFiqAMHe6U5qAdkKK2dEZNk49J8nHx9q9t7cxhgZQkGHSIhD5Xhow5kQnVgt5TBDUcz_lyZQvzmlv7vpqJ6IY/s400/20120724__christian_bale_swedish_medical_aurora_theater_shooting~p1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The victims in particular were so happy to see their hero. For them, Bale was not just an actor who has spent the last several years donning a costume and running around expensive sets with explosions going on behind him. For them, he was Batman.</div>
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In this day and age, popular entertainment can seeem to be a repository for what is bad and wrong with society: we rail against the violence in television and novies and games, the sex, the exuburent way the makers of these media seem to revel in the darkness they show, and the way the public laps it up. We point to these things and sometimes think, "This is what's wrong with society. We enjoy watching these things. It's entertainment." But, it is more than that. When Holmes shot up a theatre calling himself the Joker, we can choose to cower in fear and blame the violence on a film that glorifies such characters. We can boycott. We can shake our fists and say, "Hollywood is to blame. Movies like The Dark Knight Rises cause these things." But, I disagree. If you saw the film . . . if you have seen any of the films . . . you know what I'm talking about. Batman as a figure is a symbol of order within chaos, of good standing up in the face of evil. Batman, especially <em>Nolan's</em> Batman, <em>Bale's</em> Batman, is more than a man. He can be anyone, any one of us with the courage to do what is right. He is the one who stands when others cower. He is the Dark Knight.</div>
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In the wake of such horror, we can be angry and afraid. Or we can rise. We can choose to be heroes to those around us. Remember to make the right decision, even if its hard, even if it's not popular. Sometimes its as simple as giving a dollar to the man on the street so he can get a coffee. Sometimes it's letting someone get in front of you in traffic, or stopping to really listen to our children when they want to tell us something. Sometimes it's a movie star going to visit strangers in the hospital, just to hold their hands, and take a picture, and tell them he's sorry and that they will be all right. They are strong.</div>
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Maybe it sounds silly, but we can all have a little bit of Batman in us. We can stand together after this tragedy. We can Rise.</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-70088019513062178592012-07-23T06:46:00.001-07:002012-07-23T06:46:49.201-07:00S' Wonderful . . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcq_E8HGVzjlAZoOGPJyOzvlt1Y8ae_c79nE02Urp-9IIsQgMME9yND5EQgQksNDZw2soeo1urSgaWAvahql7viCP_aY71cBNln4dhNlChfHJKGpHV6AlUtwrDrj3STL4693cujUEH1ME/s1600/celuloid+front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcq_E8HGVzjlAZoOGPJyOzvlt1Y8ae_c79nE02Urp-9IIsQgMME9yND5EQgQksNDZw2soeo1urSgaWAvahql7viCP_aY71cBNln4dhNlChfHJKGpHV6AlUtwrDrj3STL4693cujUEH1ME/s400/celuloid+front.jpg" width="277" /></a></div>
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My <a href="https://www.createspace.com/3782610">Celluloid</a> giveaway on <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5834088.Ginger_Breo">Goodreads</a> is over, and I'm shocked: over 400 people entered! Yikes! Goodreads selected the three winners at random, so this morning I have three copies going out to three people I've never met before. Actual strangers who want to read my book! (I think it helps that it was free;)</div>
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Thanks to everyone who entered; that's a pretty nice thing to wake up to in the morning;)</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-74370758889516252212012-07-12T06:36:00.000-07:002012-07-12T06:36:28.479-07:00Wandering . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSSaKWugQZDxf3oW_MyH1huC4n9XAVcqM40hQbVUP7-BcFRwuD__S7apzAkcSD_fcRl0PUZErXN3eNuEq-Gt_doEMqEby8ntMuymbciPFAxlRH9GU1F0AWbF-KZ8srnyHLdnU3om_A_io/s1600/561061_461836787162444_2098248732_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img $ca="true" border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSSaKWugQZDxf3oW_MyH1huC4n9XAVcqM40hQbVUP7-BcFRwuD__S7apzAkcSD_fcRl0PUZErXN3eNuEq-Gt_doEMqEby8ntMuymbciPFAxlRH9GU1F0AWbF-KZ8srnyHLdnU3om_A_io/s400/561061_461836787162444_2098248732_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Someone very wise once told me that if something in your life takes from you without giving anything back, dump it and move forward. It's extremely good advice. I think we've all found ourselves in situations where something or someone we thought was important, even essential, is nothing more than a great drain on our self-worth, our happiness, and our very soul. But, cutting out that situation is often easier said than done.</div>
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People will often tell you, "If you hate your job, go do something else! If you're unhappy, do something that makes you happy!" Maybe they say that less in this economy. But, I still hear it. Yes, currently, I am unhappy. My work makes me feel ill when I wake up in the mornings, my hands shake. I count the hours and the minutes each day until I can walk out the door. It wasn't always this way; in the beginning it was great. But, things have changed, and for me those changes haven't been improvements. Though I've been studiously looking for something else, it's been three months, and I feel no closer to getting out of this situation and into a better one. I've started to have nightmares I have trouble shaking during the day, and my body is starting to pay the price for the constant stress.</div>
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Still, there are things I try to do to make up for the 9-5 stress during the week. The weekends are my creative haven, just for me to recharge my batteries. I am trying to get back into a writing headspace, thinking about branching out into some new craft projects I haven't attempted before, and trying to think of anything else I can do (cheaply) to grab some happy out of the gloom.</div>
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Soon, things will change. Something will come knocking, and I'll grab that with both hands and hold on tight to see where it takes me. Until then, I'll keep wandering and hoping and recharging when I can. I hope you can all do the same.</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-91741858489043658002012-07-10T07:14:00.001-07:002012-07-10T07:14:09.847-07:00Evil Thoughts . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCtO1Vtl1AWq_MZtVrWkCLjAeJSggC0C5ZrbfnJFxZjMQg-sGwr2KJGa3HjiSbcXHtTbja9l6UToegakAd0w9jqHPSUbRdBgKzjbtC_k_Vzz4mGfPs4tgdFf_jK5F7bFnhALYHQD10l3c/s1600/papermachemaleficentsmallfile5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img $ca="true" border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCtO1Vtl1AWq_MZtVrWkCLjAeJSggC0C5ZrbfnJFxZjMQg-sGwr2KJGa3HjiSbcXHtTbja9l6UToegakAd0w9jqHPSUbRdBgKzjbtC_k_Vzz4mGfPs4tgdFf_jK5F7bFnhALYHQD10l3c/s400/papermachemaleficentsmallfile5.jpg" width="332" /></a></div>
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After the terrible day I had yesterday, I definitely need a nice distraction. What's better than chocolate and eating my feelings? A new, utterly pointless project! This morning I found this link and picture on my Facebook feed, and checked out the work of incredible papier mache artist, <a href="http://papermacheblog.com/2012/07/01/commission-paper-mache-dragon.aspx#fb">Dan Reeder</a>. He got a commission to make a trophy of Maleficent's head from "Sleeping Beauty", and the results are pretty amazing.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5pb6OuS-0-bRuEkvRWokrHHP4v_Jrs50isRc6-qZSqcGijsdGnGwng0Q776e3pdx2pFTRXhNbaHqYtpRr17kbqCpSvnM8bDX7M-xQ7pdMjyg7bsnAw0VljPQHfFaBd5JeB8-XPsXOpCA/s1600/papermachemaleficentsmallfile6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img $ca="true" border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5pb6OuS-0-bRuEkvRWokrHHP4v_Jrs50isRc6-qZSqcGijsdGnGwng0Q776e3pdx2pFTRXhNbaHqYtpRr17kbqCpSvnM8bDX7M-xQ7pdMjyg7bsnAw0VljPQHfFaBd5JeB8-XPsXOpCA/s400/papermachemaleficentsmallfile6.jpg" width="332" /></a></div>
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Using paper and cloth soaked in glue, fimo clay, glass eyes, and a shitload of green LED's, Dan created the coolest representation of one of Disney's coolest villains (if not THE coolest villain, IMO). Naturally, instead of looking at something like this and thinking, "Wouldn't it be cool to have somebody make something like that for me?" I'm sitting here thinking, "How do I make that???" I'm not saying I'm going to do it. But, newspaper and glue are pretty cheap . . .</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-78162882105170487722012-07-09T09:04:00.001-07:002012-07-09T09:04:22.243-07:00And in the End . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6Z7Cb_znGNH0_xxHO7bMPEkz-HyYqJc1PtoHZGcE0JlkQrWJyHzpISIn7vyWRhSIKMCWiNmZD30TuXpp1v8mj9KZp7rxWrvQA6I3xF0ayVgZEptFziI4nzRcwyKLtnVJIpBsiAGN3M8/s1600/300320_2327558463097_1700402375_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" sca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6Z7Cb_znGNH0_xxHO7bMPEkz-HyYqJc1PtoHZGcE0JlkQrWJyHzpISIn7vyWRhSIKMCWiNmZD30TuXpp1v8mj9KZp7rxWrvQA6I3xF0ayVgZEptFziI4nzRcwyKLtnVJIpBsiAGN3M8/s400/300320_2327558463097_1700402375_n.jpg" width="275" /></a></div>
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In 1998, I met someone who would inspire me and keep me going through some of the hardest days on my life. Paul Schierhorn was my college counselor, a professor at Tulane University's Theatre Department and the person most responsible for not letting me quit on life even when that was what I wanted most of all. He was more then my teacher. He was my friend.</div>
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I'll never forget being in "Working", crying because I was crumbling from the pressures of my life and I didn't think I could perform the song he'd asked me to do. "Give the song to someone else," I begged. With tears in his eyes, he said, "No. I'm not going to let you quit. You can do this. I believe in you." And, I did. I sang the shit out of that song. Not long after, he was in a bike accident and sustained a head injury, and many of us thought he wouldn't make it. But, he fought, and he pulled through and he was back teaching a few months later.</div>
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Later that same year, the end of my sophomore year, I was ready to leave Tulane and go home, broken and failed. I knew there was nothing anyone could say to change my mind. I was finished. He changed my mind. He patiently and gently but with passionate convinction convinced me to come back for one more year. Again, he wouldn't let me quit. And, I was in one of the best productions, one of the most fulfilling theatrical experiences, I've ever had as a result. And, I was in it with him. </div>
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Over the years, we have stayed in touch. He once walked to my house just to have lunch with me. He still believed in me, even eleven years after I left school. We spoke on Facebook just a month or two ago. I always assumed I'd see him again one day, and get to thank him for what he gave me.</div>
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He has passed away. The world has lost a rich, strong voice, and a wonderful human being. He changed my life, and the lives of many others. </div>
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Thank you, Paul, for never letting me quit.</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-44012860264031798182012-07-09T06:48:00.001-07:002012-07-09T06:48:44.174-07:00My Soul to Keep . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As somebody who greatly values independence, it sure can suck sometimes, being alone.</div>
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There were times, growing up, never having any privacy, that I would fantasize about one day having my own place, getting up and going to sleep when I chose, eating in bed if I wanted, reading all day in my pj's. Now that I'm officially a grownup I can say definitively that I sometimes do those things, and that kinda rocks about living on my own. Nobody to answer to, nobody to consider if I make plans. It's nice not to worry about pleasing anyone but myself, sometimes.</div>
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Then I get a night like Saturday night.</div>
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I don't often have nightmares; they usually cluster around when I'm stressed out, unsurprisingly. And, most of the time, when I wake, I realize that a nightmare is nothing more than that; they even seem silly when I open my eyes. But, every once in a while, I get a nightmare like the one that woke me on Saturday, a little after 11pm, my heart pounding, palms sweating. </div>
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I'd been driving. Not an inherently frightening task, I'll grant you. Just driving, at night. I generally sleep with a sleep mask and ear plugs, as my neighborhood/building can be a little noisy and I sleep lightly, and in the dream I had that mask on and it kept slipping over my eyes, making it hard to see where I was going. Suddenly I drove into a dark area, and I don't just mean the streetlights had gone out. I was on a road dipped in pitch, and my headlights could only illuminate a short distance in front of me. The sleep mask kept slipping down, and I kept pushing it up. Then, my headlights showed people, and I rolled down my passenger window: to the right of me, people were running in the street. They were going the same direction I was driving, and in my head I asked myself: "Why is it so dark suddenly? And what are they all running from?" I wanted to shout out the window and ask, but part of me was too afraid to find out. And, I could barely see. There was something behind me in the dark, and I could barely see to get away.</div>
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I awoke, and as I lay in the dark I pulled out my earplugs, convinced I could not sleep with them because I would miss hearing something, some noise that could save me. I took off the sleep mask, too creeped out to put it back on. And, I lay there terrified, absolutely sure something dreadful was coming.</div>
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I know talking about it would have made it easier, that the fear would have receded and I would have been able to go back to sleep comforted. But, I was reminded, viscerally, that I am alone now. There was no one next to me, or on the other side of the door, or down the hall, to tell. No one I could call at so late an hour without greatly inconveniencing them for something so silly and unimportant. So, I lay there, heart pounding, jumping at every sound, and tried to close my eyes.</div>
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If I'd known this was what it meant, growing up, I might have run away to Neverland ages ago.</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-56685884132502412742012-07-05T07:32:00.000-07:002012-07-05T07:32:00.230-07:00The Saga Ends . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV20xUXhx5ds7VHI5S0xRgwqwBv_oNTbFqTY8-iBiFtIItg7_BRbfWtUMM3N44yAbDP7FtxR5F9s6ZFY7WtKer3m1eb1NKYXuChxcaupxN6qySi_s2JCl_pBUFHtTajz3WYUj2061IAuo/s1600/tumblr_kph78asBT51qzshtmo1_500_large_thumb_25255B4_25255D_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV20xUXhx5ds7VHI5S0xRgwqwBv_oNTbFqTY8-iBiFtIItg7_BRbfWtUMM3N44yAbDP7FtxR5F9s6ZFY7WtKer3m1eb1NKYXuChxcaupxN6qySi_s2JCl_pBUFHtTajz3WYUj2061IAuo/s400/tumblr_kph78asBT51qzshtmo1_500_large_thumb_25255B4_25255D_large.jpg" vca="true" width="400" /></a></div>
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An update, for those who don't know how the Television Saga turned out:</div>
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Yes, I got my tv.</div>
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The whole thing was kind of hilarious/awful. but I'll give you the highlights:</div>
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-On Thursday,when the tv was supposed to arrive at the store for pickup, it didn't. I called the store several times, and then called Best Buy Customer Service again. Thank god for Jaqueline. I spoke to her on two consecutive nights, and she literally saved me as a customer. after all the hassle, she said, "I'd like to offer you a Best Buy gift card for all this trouble." I'm thinking, $15, right? Nope. $75. Thanks, Jaqueline.</div>
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-On Friday, according to Fedex, the tv arrived at the store. So, I'm on the phone with the store, trying to loate it. Is it there? Is it checked in? I hadn't gotten an email saying it was ready, and I still hadn't been charged. Adrianna, who I also spoke to on two consecutive days, assured me that yes, the television was here. I could come get it after my movie was over (I was going to see "Brave" that night). I took a breath.</div>
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-As of 4pm, I still hadn't been charged for said-tv. I called the store back. Surprise, surprise: they couldn't charge me. It wouldn't go through in their system. AGAIN. Adrianna said that at this point, they would cancel the order and I could come in, at which time they would basically sell me the tv.</div>
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-At 8:30pm, I show up, and the tv is rolled out for me. In a huge fucking box. the guy behind the counter laughs and says, "I hope this will fit in your car! You'd be surprised the people who show up to buy big tv's with tiny cars!" Chuckle, chuckle. I cringe, smile, and say, "Believe me, I'll make it fit."</div>
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-I wheel the cart out to my car and sure enough, the box is too big. Without missing a beat, I open the box and take out the actual tv, encased in giant blocks of foam, and put that into my car. Carefully. Like it's made of gold, which, at this point, it feels like it might be.</div>
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-I head home and set up the tv and dvd player, plug them in, and turn those suckers on. Success.</div>
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I just got my gift card in the mail and bought four dvds with it, ensuring that my July 4th will be well-spent. it is wonderful to finally have a screen that I can see from ten feet away (and hear); perhaps its a silly thing to be happy about, but I'm happy all the same. That being said, I will never buy a tv this way again. Yeesh.</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-74810701759606131492012-07-04T07:00:00.000-07:002012-07-04T07:00:10.565-07:00Let Freedom Ring . . .<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/nrvpZxMfKaU" width="560"></iframe><br />
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Today we celebrate the day our country took its first step towards becoming, well, a country. Happy Independence Day, everyone.<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-77226780208179447322012-07-03T06:40:00.000-07:002012-07-03T06:40:00.328-07:00Labyrinth of Jareth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqvDuxLaJRMIGV23AcPIQ5hWiGuYPuTKD4-tczKlu3Uyh370sUoUrTV3vIbgEzQjBuvbb6ptM7rw_PRlltgidxVfq-GnQReG_RcLAZtfxAnLax0x7R97wC5NZ_Pv_stWn1f_TMRGeWkOw/s1600/IMG_0773%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqvDuxLaJRMIGV23AcPIQ5hWiGuYPuTKD4-tczKlu3Uyh370sUoUrTV3vIbgEzQjBuvbb6ptM7rw_PRlltgidxVfq-GnQReG_RcLAZtfxAnLax0x7R97wC5NZ_Pv_stWn1f_TMRGeWkOw/s640/IMG_0773%5B1%5D.jpg" vca="true" width="480" /></a></div>
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The Ball was held at the <a href="http://www.parkplazala.com/sites/courses/layout9.asp?id=445&page=13493">Park Plaza Hotel,</a> and holy cow, is it gorgeous. You have to allow me a few pictures to show the various rooms and areas, because the setting really made the night. I'm not some wedding-crazy woman, but if I were getting married, I would definitely consider this place. It's not in such a great area, but you forget that as you step inside. This is the Grand Staircase, guarded before the night began and the gates were opened at the top.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn2X8zYR6B425DDxUzLnwEauGQj3KPHihn4fiC__za4MV2_DoY0SEfRGYkvecEYr-1Ck0nxyGFydiml7L7v8sQe_oBydoqlLbQjmk5vBzBkYjtoDPUSfd8ruU4KBGVlnhHnRkeoGenZL0/s1600/IMG_0767%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn2X8zYR6B425DDxUzLnwEauGQj3KPHihn4fiC__za4MV2_DoY0SEfRGYkvecEYr-1Ck0nxyGFydiml7L7v8sQe_oBydoqlLbQjmk5vBzBkYjtoDPUSfd8ruU4KBGVlnhHnRkeoGenZL0/s400/IMG_0767%5B1%5D.jpg" vca="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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This was the ballroom at the top ofvthe stairs, all heavy-beamed ceiling and gold gilding. I really wish I'd had a partner to waltz with.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif0GKrnRgAAFb2c6sYxx6KLlgWKYU-9XuNd0wRncKmB4yHkT9B7_JlSog_oWP9bjmKGq6KNPDLChtyeVnohIlcBqvpHJJzVdGJHkRgRzKs-X9yRQHMcAA2RvCZDzEcqgSIh3nFUOvQdzU/s1600/IMG_0771%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif0GKrnRgAAFb2c6sYxx6KLlgWKYU-9XuNd0wRncKmB4yHkT9B7_JlSog_oWP9bjmKGq6KNPDLChtyeVnohIlcBqvpHJJzVdGJHkRgRzKs-X9yRQHMcAA2RvCZDzEcqgSIh3nFUOvQdzU/s400/IMG_0771%5B1%5D.jpg" vca="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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One of the many beautiful iron chandeliers throughout the hotel.</div>
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One of the downstairs rooms.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhKFAFNBcc_8-hqMyfeLnQH288o2so-mNWC_JY9VO4iq3w4ZmHAdg0uoArk9tZRf1TS6vsUnxZY5_AGGLgFTgQSscR8Jv1Uf-1vokoYXg5FC33rHh2TxaGkFSBh208ZvJa4Z6rN-UIt-w/s1600/IMG_0763%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhKFAFNBcc_8-hqMyfeLnQH288o2so-mNWC_JY9VO4iq3w4ZmHAdg0uoArk9tZRf1TS6vsUnxZY5_AGGLgFTgQSscR8Jv1Uf-1vokoYXg5FC33rHh2TxaGkFSBh208ZvJa4Z6rN-UIt-w/s400/IMG_0763%5B1%5D.jpg" vca="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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Now, some attendees. Steampunk was fucking EVERYWHERE. I'm so glad I did not dress in steampunk. It was done to DEATH. There were some cool examples, but for the most part I started to feel a huge steampunk-ennui by the end of the night, and actively sought out other costumes to admire.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGrX4-GvgaL0gq6syYhcogndDx0TCdmVWsuRVn4GgqsumD_R08HGHp-drO04y3QNFECFGaLAHJ4wIsUfRX6nGekgKfSc1ceDyh4DUTQUm-WAYQa0oOa9NRnVtqrAv334qJdo2FQJVjR6c/s1600/IMG_0778%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGrX4-GvgaL0gq6syYhcogndDx0TCdmVWsuRVn4GgqsumD_R08HGHp-drO04y3QNFECFGaLAHJ4wIsUfRX6nGekgKfSc1ceDyh4DUTQUm-WAYQa0oOa9NRnVtqrAv334qJdo2FQJVjR6c/s400/IMG_0778%5B1%5D.jpg" vca="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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Death and her brother Dream showed up right before I left and I snapped a quick picture. She was pretty cute;)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKbFwkn5eV1gOMrXEefK78xoYJ-bayPq6gvGB9rowjMVYx0dbaEnVKRpDEiwev-Bxod2gpU7iUSZ8ewJRgkiDtgeVTS3wpRY2yA1Nw6vvXrXNxXdWVnJWE5FFYHpnbiHJhdmC-ByD4N5Q/s1600/IMG_0781%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKbFwkn5eV1gOMrXEefK78xoYJ-bayPq6gvGB9rowjMVYx0dbaEnVKRpDEiwev-Bxod2gpU7iUSZ8ewJRgkiDtgeVTS3wpRY2yA1Nw6vvXrXNxXdWVnJWE5FFYHpnbiHJhdmC-ByD4N5Q/s400/IMG_0781%5B1%5D.jpg" vca="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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This chick looked awesome. She had this cage strapped to her back wreathed in blue lights, and I never got the chance to ask her about it. I had to take a picture, of course.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTsmnrD9wVzD8GVIVri7B9_OSlV51GNECK5Zr4fA-yiVjfMt7-9ybdPBmrdk4NWbGtvDBHQ35Joi2D0wNcV7CKjrESNzkF1nPDwJ8yIcuYk90vB_PuWvaIgUEfqFkuOddoe1AP0uO9sYE/s1600/IMG_0764%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTsmnrD9wVzD8GVIVri7B9_OSlV51GNECK5Zr4fA-yiVjfMt7-9ybdPBmrdk4NWbGtvDBHQ35Joi2D0wNcV7CKjrESNzkF1nPDwJ8yIcuYk90vB_PuWvaIgUEfqFkuOddoe1AP0uO9sYE/s400/IMG_0764%5B1%5D.jpg" vca="true" width="300" /></a></div>
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I REALLY wish this picture wasn't so frigging dark The best look of the night, in my opinion, was the little girl dressed as Claudia. She was prefect: sweet, beautiful golden curls and blue dress . . . and so creepy as a result! They were there early and left early, naturally: she was maybe eight, so it was past her bedtime. I hope she had fun; she definitely knew how to pose for the photographers:)</div>
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There was a spotlight in the lobby and it was a favorite picture spot. People would come in and stop, posing, while photogs snapped away. This group was pretty amazing-looking.</div>
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This girl was in a pretty decent Loki costume, and she was working the event. She stood on the steps all night, looking ready to kick Avenger ass. I hope she kept an eye out for the Hulk:)</div>
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All in all, I would have had more fun if I'd gone with someone or in a group, but it was still fun to people-watch (though it would have been better if I'd had a snark-partner!). There were a lot of lame, half-assed costumes, and quite a few women who thought this was an excuse to wear almost nothing. In fact, there was one couple dressed as Adam and Eve who were, quite literally, wearing pasties and almost nothing else. The stripper heels and bare bellies made me a little depressed, but the really awesome looks more than made up for it. There were definitely folks who went all out with a vengeance, and it made me proud to be a weirdo right along with them. I'm already starting to think about my ensemble for next year . . .</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-14784892235182639842012-07-02T07:12:00.000-07:002012-07-02T07:12:21.383-07:00After Twilight . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This weekend was Labyrinth of Jareth, and I had a pretty good time. As promised, the costume pics:)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJk_lcEtGnEKwRhv64_UAFdChzZK5aMLV8WszY2X8IgLbp7vlPzuU-jmL1_ne8u4ldMWlLbMHqIEqoVed0pj5UDJXTXGB3rSZbrw3_xShn8J0REnMGIHFvXWqm0oHl4G-W_gb11SFBG_Q/s1600/IMG_0758%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJk_lcEtGnEKwRhv64_UAFdChzZK5aMLV8WszY2X8IgLbp7vlPzuU-jmL1_ne8u4ldMWlLbMHqIEqoVed0pj5UDJXTXGB3rSZbrw3_xShn8J0REnMGIHFvXWqm0oHl4G-W_gb11SFBG_Q/s640/IMG_0758%5B1%5D.jpg" vca="true" width="480" /></a></div>
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I've been designing and building this costume for the last month, so it was pretty sweet to see it finally come together. It's a little modified for the evening's festivities (read: shorter), and I added my black petticoat. I just thought it would be fun to wear it in a way I never would at Faire.</div>
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The headpiece turned out looking pretty cool, though it is definitely not something I'd wear as a Fantastickal! It's made of gold paper, so while it is sturdier than I expected, still not terribly sturdy. But, it looked pretty:)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLOABErUJg69wxcPaRkDS7SwzwI1hrkPAQEmJ1wEdKS3eqLFDl4WJpQw5tpNBi1-plkt9jkNhmg3w5HIxsFq0RrSifxZwhD-PW8pPTSkPS93mtUq4DFgiV_Foj35xyhyphenhyphenvhKLow5QgxYmI/s1600/IMG_0794%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLOABErUJg69wxcPaRkDS7SwzwI1hrkPAQEmJ1wEdKS3eqLFDl4WJpQw5tpNBi1-plkt9jkNhmg3w5HIxsFq0RrSifxZwhD-PW8pPTSkPS93mtUq4DFgiV_Foj35xyhyphenhyphenvhKLow5QgxYmI/s400/IMG_0794%5B1%5D.jpg" vca="true" width="288" /></a></div>
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The ensemble wears pretty well. The ombre dyeing on the silk chemise came out really beautifully, and of course, nothing wears like silk. And the Indian overskirt is sparkly and rich and lovely. The bodice wasn't too terribly uncomfortable: it's royal dupioni boned in the front (the wings provide the boning in the back), and though I wore it from 5pm until 10pm, I didn't feel too constricted. The wings were a learning curve, but I didn't hit too many people with them, luckily; I even drove in them!</div>
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Doing airbrush makeup on myself is always an experience, so I thought I'd give the highlights:) This is me dressed and wigged, face bare, at 5pm. It's amazing how plain it looks without makeup!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYgE1C04NR2HUw4KBGKU1JQFKE6bW5d7Sq-GSfgLY5H3FdwOL4l8SiXXBuNfSL5LaLvFvUNLm0KShPvMaNIQy013gWaD5qI3FqgwPihyphenhyphenoRwFjLkFUD4_jSi6QkorodZEzCIXBmHwUUd5Y/s1600/IMG_0755%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYgE1C04NR2HUw4KBGKU1JQFKE6bW5d7Sq-GSfgLY5H3FdwOL4l8SiXXBuNfSL5LaLvFvUNLm0KShPvMaNIQy013gWaD5qI3FqgwPihyphenhyphenoRwFjLkFUD4_jSi6QkorodZEzCIXBmHwUUd5Y/s320/IMG_0755%5B1%5D.jpg" vca="true" width="240" /></a></div>
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My high-tech way of keeping makeup off the silk: papertowels:) Let the fun begin.</div>
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I'm not as young as I used to be, folks. If I want white makeup to get into the fine wrinkles around my eyes and mouth, I need to start with a white cream base in those areas. Yes, it looks pretty strange.</div>
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White base. This is how I know I'd never be the most popular Geisha in Gion.</div>
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Cosmic Blue. A little known fact: cosmic blue smells. It has a vaguely cookie-ish smell, if you baked cookies with liquid makeup:) I have also done the first coat of spray on my hair; I set the wig back on my head slightly and pinned the front of my hair into it, for a slightly smoother transition. The makeup was sprayed pretty thick on there, and was not a lot of fun to wash out at the end.</div>
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Blue and purple lowlights. The purple in the eyes did not turn out terribly well, but you have to remember: I am spraying over my own eyeballs, which means I can't actually see what I'm doing. I have to position the airbrush, close my eyes, and pray. I usually spray really lightly as a result, for fear of overdoing it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH-n5HBffl4bm_qjBrL8A1I76YGPjxU2J_k3XGrt6sApxclRNcuwga-9wA5IzQBIFE2L0ZfvR6-IyZfVHB0Bn3jGM0RY44L7cBo_HbFr37rbLcQiYcV2mEEahlOUaPozyB48Z0NcPlEs4/s1600/IMG_0750%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH-n5HBffl4bm_qjBrL8A1I76YGPjxU2J_k3XGrt6sApxclRNcuwga-9wA5IzQBIFE2L0ZfvR6-IyZfVHB0Bn3jGM0RY44L7cBo_HbFr37rbLcQiYcV2mEEahlOUaPozyB48Z0NcPlEs4/s320/IMG_0750%5B1%5D.jpg" vca="true" width="240" /></a></div>
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Finished makeup. Yes, there were quite a few steps in between, but you can't expect me to show everything. And, there were several mishaps too. Both the dark blue and the yellow bottles overflowed/exploded at one point, and I had a few cleanup jobs. I did not take pictures of the times I had dark blue dots sprayed across my cheek, or the explosion of light yellow right in the center of my forehead; I figured I'd leave that to your imagination:) The process is not always smooth, but the result is always pretty damn cool.</div>
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I'll post on the ball tomorow, with some pictures of attendees. I didn't take a lot of pictures; I had my iPhone as my only camera, so a lot of the pictures are dark and grainy or blurry. Also, I was more interested in looking than in snapping:) But, there were a few I had to capture, so stay tuned . . .</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-50156356850142044652012-06-28T09:29:00.002-07:002012-06-28T09:29:58.770-07:00Faery Tale . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgplafVFYNOvENLHtjWOnWO-RC0m-Bezed1AvyIx7aX-seFk5440JY8AwHx0lj7xnyQK6U_2M8z5FhvZkMl1PebNMwJ5eW8-_gAuOqaZ4QCJpzL_-ulgpXhsDumaeP3kt_i5-cg2xUemCY/s1600/art-arthur-rackham-fairies-fairytale-illustration-Favim_com-142935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgplafVFYNOvENLHtjWOnWO-RC0m-Bezed1AvyIx7aX-seFk5440JY8AwHx0lj7xnyQK6U_2M8z5FhvZkMl1PebNMwJ5eW8-_gAuOqaZ4QCJpzL_-ulgpXhsDumaeP3kt_i5-cg2xUemCY/s400/art-arthur-rackham-fairies-fairytale-illustration-Favim_com-142935.jpg" vca="true" width="400" /></a></div>
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Labyrinth of Jareth approaches this Saturday, and I'm as ready as I can be. Costume is done, makeup is mixed, wig is dressed. I've been hinting at my Twilight Faery for weeks without showing any real pictures, and part of the reason for that is: I don't really have any pictures yet! I've tried the costume on, of course, for fit, but withiout the makeup and hair and everything else, there's no point posting pictures. And, without a photographer to take them, they wouldn't be very good pictures anyway. So, you will all just have to wait until after this weekend. I promise to post pictures next week of myself and all the amazing things and people I see; I have a feeling it will be a feast for the senses. Looking forward to it, and already starting to plan next year's ensemble . . .</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-17726164189522520872012-06-26T06:43:00.001-07:002012-06-26T06:43:32.112-07:00Follow the White Rabbit . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I know these images have been spreading around the web these last few days and you may have seen them. I don't care. I simply have to share these pictures. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/#!/kirstymitchellphotography">Kirsty Mitchell</a>, a UK-based costume designer and photographer, recently lost her mother to cancer. She was inspired to do a photo shoot called "Wonderland" in her memory, and the results are, quite simply, stunning.</div>
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The images evoke loss and longing, beauty, sadness, and a sort of far-eyed hope. There is a silence in these pictures that speaks of strength, of the power of fragility.</div>
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Kirsty intends to release a book of her images in 2013, but you can go to <a href="http://www.kirstymitchellphotography.com/">her website</a> and see extensive behind-the-scenes information of how each of these images was produced. I remember preparing and shoting my pictures for the Seamstress Shop, and though these are 100 times grander, I think I can understand the acheivement and the joy she has in these images. They are visual poetry, and I want to climb inside.</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-4207770772214632902012-06-25T07:45:00.001-07:002012-06-25T07:48:45.788-07:00Happy Monday.<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8KM9ANam15Q" width="420"></iframe><br />
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This morning at 2am, I was awoken from sleep by the gentle sound of running water. *Tinkle, tinkle* I awoke thinking, "Is it raining outside?" I opened my eyes and listened. Nope. No rain. Holycrapwhatthefuck. <br />
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Jumping out of bed, I got ten steps to my bathroom when my feet encountered the squish squish of EXTREMELY WET CARPET. Fuckity fuck. The bathroom floor was running with water, all from my suddenly, spontaneously cracked toilet bowl. So, out into the hallway I went, knocking on my neighbor's door, who also happens to be the building manager, and he mops up and promises to have the problem fixed today. <br />
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It's a good thing I spent Sunday cleaning up the sewing room, which until yesterday was still full of boxes. I didn't bother to go back to sleep; I finished clearing the sewing room floor of whatever clothes and costumes were still straggling around, moved Viola into the room with fresh litter and hay, and shut the door. She was pretty unhappy, but would have been unhappier still hopping over the wet, squishy carpet. <br />
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In response, here is a tripping Alan Tudyk from Death at a Funeral, which perfectly sums up my mentality level after so little sleep.<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-35069435730844183522012-06-21T07:45:00.001-07:002012-06-21T07:45:34.974-07:00Inspired By. . .<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I sit down to design a new costume, often a lot of the work goes on, in the initial stages, inside my head. I see an image somewhere, often completely unrelated to what I'm doing, and it fires a synapse and gets me thinking in a new direction. My costume for Labyrinth of Jareth started like that, with an image of a sunset in purples, pinks, and blues. Thus the Twilight Faery was born.</div>
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But, you can't build a costume from a picture of clouds. So, I started to look at lots of other images, and for this costume I went to an area I haven't before: Eastern Europe. Usually if I say one of my designs has Eastern influences, you can safely assume I'm talking about Japan or China. The change is exciting to me; I got to do research in a totally new area.</div>
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Once I knew that I wanted a "bodice faery", I started to contemplate the headpiece, and I found several images of a Rssian traditional headdress, often worn by brides, called a kokoshnik. </div>
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I started with the images as reference, and then looked at Russian and Eastern European design motifs in art and architecture for ideas as to the specific design.</div>
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The above borrows on some of these elements while also leaning on my love of the swirly, freeform Art Nouveau style. My intention is to do a two-layer leather crown, with the outer layer in gold and the under layer in a purple-blue gradient.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBsNbv-QkeTvljV_L55HYinPLYlMro-pVRt1LmrEFdIOUB2a5bMvsKCmMfoxBkBrhnB9xf4fVeoZacbvn6mR7ysJWivtF73MzwM6M6r7WSRZSTzxxzrk1g73zi-V9RXOXuHL0Ir_h4gY4/s1600/6542876149_c5f953b057_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBsNbv-QkeTvljV_L55HYinPLYlMro-pVRt1LmrEFdIOUB2a5bMvsKCmMfoxBkBrhnB9xf4fVeoZacbvn6mR7ysJWivtF73MzwM6M6r7WSRZSTzxxzrk1g73zi-V9RXOXuHL0Ir_h4gY4/s320/6542876149_c5f953b057_o.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
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Unfortunately, I don't have time (or money!) to do this in time for LOJ. So, I took the above image as inspiration, and I built out the kokoshnik frame in wire, which will then be covered in gold foil Dresden paper lace. I'm hoping for a delicate, fragile look.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJbv8Vrv8aSA6EGgU9Z1UbFOVhpDdIaY9nS6Nl0eDONibHmIh5AdvPI2M5mefj-drPfQ3SOZX_s5v1R9o21b_8C6HpiPYFPSLd2vBz93QpMyZx9CnGxLznL_Jl9ShDl7xP0kebvRLeao/s1600/Russia-Culture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" rca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJbv8Vrv8aSA6EGgU9Z1UbFOVhpDdIaY9nS6Nl0eDONibHmIh5AdvPI2M5mefj-drPfQ3SOZX_s5v1R9o21b_8C6HpiPYFPSLd2vBz93QpMyZx9CnGxLznL_Jl9ShDl7xP0kebvRLeao/s320/Russia-Culture.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The costume itself is very much inspired by Eastern European traditional garb, with a front-lacing bodice and two layers of skirts, the top skirt heavily ornamented, the chemise very blousey and full, the bodice with embroidered motifs. In the end, I think I have a fantasy costume that owes a lot to real garments, fantastickal and familiar at the same time. I'm hoping once I bring everything together with the makeup, it will turn out well. Stay tuned for pictures after the 30th!</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-87325614831897570432012-06-20T07:55:00.002-07:002012-06-20T07:55:29.954-07:00The Long Day . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6aNCKsG7WGlGZT3oaC9quzu4tlx7lYT0Sk17Frum2Vqt7doO3YKS5cfXA6pwGlMPVCWNlZO3QWG4leraSUxHdiLxrLkAKU64seHkk7aJDKTE_QBpSQfUxK8W2vfhGrk8GCw76o9fNRcE/s1600/A+Summer+Solstice+Ritual.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" rca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6aNCKsG7WGlGZT3oaC9quzu4tlx7lYT0Sk17Frum2Vqt7doO3YKS5cfXA6pwGlMPVCWNlZO3QWG4leraSUxHdiLxrLkAKU64seHkk7aJDKTE_QBpSQfUxK8W2vfhGrk8GCw76o9fNRcE/s400/A+Summer+Solstice+Ritual.jpg" width="340" /></a></div>
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The longest day of the year has arrived, when the sun will hold the sky and keep night at bay. It is the Summer Solstice. May the season hold much warmth and light for you all, dear readers.</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-75189993302380795922012-06-19T07:07:00.002-07:002012-06-19T07:07:39.068-07:00Customer Disservice . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4MeRFJinqa_QUMyu_NNa1gNtGQgUOemLkao3ri6FSjEDKX5RRJ7eJ-pQhteUPfm5MNJOH49kCFJj-7ldQtUClpuMdRyFy0f8kLpFe9uuxNM3cJRhta-LoOqFympjodaXzxxRqRoCNNXE/s1600/bunny-fly-fuck-you-Favim_com-282369_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" rca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4MeRFJinqa_QUMyu_NNa1gNtGQgUOemLkao3ri6FSjEDKX5RRJ7eJ-pQhteUPfm5MNJOH49kCFJj-7ldQtUClpuMdRyFy0f8kLpFe9uuxNM3cJRhta-LoOqFympjodaXzxxRqRoCNNXE/s400/bunny-fly-fuck-you-Favim_com-282369_large.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Oh, Best Buy. You are really trying my sunny disposition. (that thud you just heard was my sister, reading this, falling on the floor laughing at the "sunny disposition" remark)</div>
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Just yesterday, I posted about my elation on my recent purchase: a tv. Eighteen months, and finally I get to watch my motherfucking movies on a screen that won't fit inside my medicine cabinet. Yes, I was seriously excited. I was only waiting for that email from Best Buy telling me "Your Order is Ready to Be Picked Up!" I was already having fantasies about me and my tv frolicking in fields of clover and sharing moonlit picnics where we discussed our dreams and what our kids would be named one day (Nathaniel and Superfly).</div>
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Then, around 1pm yesterday, I get an email from Best Buy. Not the one I'd been waiting for, mind you. No, this was like buying a new dress and getting your hair professionally done for a really important date and then finding out the guy has decided to join a Buddhist monastery and is leaving for Tibet 20 minutes before he was supposed to be picking you up. </div>
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"There was a problem with the billing for your order."</div>
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What? What the fuck? I specifically allocated that money for this purchase, swallowed my screaming terror at spending $300 in one place, and checked my bank balance multiple times to assure myself that yes, indeed, the money had been sent to Best Buy.</div>
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Well, yesterday, I got an education on how banks, and debit cards, and asshat companies really work.</div>
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So, when I made the purchase Friday, the money was authorized by my bank to go to Best Buy. A hold was placed on the amount (obviously Chase knows I would have spent it on chocolate and shoes otherwise), and that should have been that. In fact, Bet Buy collected the money for my Blueray player, since that was ready for pickup right away. But, my tv was being shipped to the store, so I decided to wait to pick everything up together.</div>
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Fast forward to Monday, when Best Buy tries to collect the rest of the money for the purchase, and they can't. Why? Because the authorization I gave to my bank for that money has expired, though the money still has a hold on it. There's my $300, sitting in bank limbo, untouchable. Chase could hold onto that motherfucker forever if they wanted. After the zombie apocalypse, the survivors great-great-grandkids could carbon date that sonovabitch to understand how their ancestors bought home electronics. In order for my money to be let out of bank jail, Best Buy has to send a fax--a fax! Yes, it's 2012, folks!--to my bank, and the bank will then release the funds. Then I have to call Best Buy back and reauthorize the fucking purchase.</div>
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By the way, I'm on the phone yesterday with Best Buy and Chase for <em>two hours</em> straightening all this out. Most of that time, needless to say, was spent on hold. Then, this morning I check my bank balance at 2am (shut up, I was awake), and the money is back! Yay! I can call Best Buy when I get to work. Except, at 5am, Best Buy sends me another MOTHERFUCKING EMAIL telling me "there was a problem with the billing of your order". Holycrapfuckyou. I call them at 5:30am, sitting in my car in my parking lot, and I get this woman who tells me I need to give her ANOTHER credit card for the purchase.</div>
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"No, no, no," I tell her. "I don't have another card. This is my debit card, attached to the bank account that just released the funds for this purchase. This is YOUR MISTAKE, and YOU NEED TO FIX THIS."</div>
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"Oh, well, the system won't let us reauthorize a purchase on the same card."</div>
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"I want to talk to your supervisor right now." I added a please. I'm not a complete asshole.</div>
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She puts me on hold for a while, and finally comes back and says, "Okay, my supervisor says its okay to use that card." There must be, literally, an entire novel in my file at this point, detailing all this, but whatever.</div>
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"Okay, so this takes care of it?" I ask. </div>
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"Well, the authorization takes 2 to 3 days."</div>
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Fuck me. "Are you telling me this might happen AGAIN?"</div>
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"Probably not, ma'am."</div>
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Motherfuckers.</div>
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On Thursday, supposedly, I should be able to pick up my tv. I'll make sure to post an update. At this point, my bandeleros are strapped on and I'm ready for anything.</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623846368090046890.post-36259278737250278032012-06-18T07:52:00.000-07:002012-06-18T07:52:22.458-07:00I Want My . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8rCp3OugQaPlYSHud2VwWS7_C1TGwGLAEjrrLixaZZumkYKxRor2bVvt2ga_Wmqy-BySQVILVSWnP02RftiY4CB8KVeQCFE-vhIasJANFqLEHWrWuIWdJ4l8RLd8zky45TS_OLFuPvw/s1600/tumblr_lzgjlgHODm1rntsfeo1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" rca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8rCp3OugQaPlYSHud2VwWS7_C1TGwGLAEjrrLixaZZumkYKxRor2bVvt2ga_Wmqy-BySQVILVSWnP02RftiY4CB8KVeQCFE-vhIasJANFqLEHWrWuIWdJ4l8RLd8zky45TS_OLFuPvw/s400/tumblr_lzgjlgHODm1rntsfeo1_500_large.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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After 18 months going without, I finally did it: I bought a tv.</div>
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The first few months in California were full of withdrawal for Sunday afternoons on the Food Network, catching ANTM, watching shows I missed on OnDemand. I hated missing the shows I had kept up with, though the number was fairly small. I was antsy without something to provide background noise.</div>
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Then, I got used to it. The shows I wanted to keep up with, I read recaps on EW.com and such. The others I realized I didn't care about that much to begin with. I could always Netflix them once they came out on DVD. And, I had my laptop for my ever-expanding DVD library.</div>
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But, I always said if I ever got a little unexpected money, I would bite the bullet and spring for an actual tv, and graduate past my little laptop screen. Well, my check for my security deposit on the old apartment came through, and I bit that bullet. My new tv should be arriving thyis week. All weekend I kept taking movies off the shelf and replacing them again, saying to myself, "No; I'll watch that once I have my tv." Imagine being able to read the subtitles on foreign films! Seeing the detail on costumes! Being able to hear the movie from ten feet away! I'm fairly excited. I know it's silly in the grand scheme of things, and I should be worried about finding a better job or finishing my LOJ costume. But, for the moment, my new tv is the most exciting thing going on:)</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/37ED3E9E491400BC418E126C63343FB4.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03532219278929822141noreply@blogger.com1