| Oh. My. God. |
[Apr. 16th, 2009|11:07 am] |
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That's really all I can say. Those of you who know what I'm doing will probably know what I'm talking about. XD |
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| HELLO!! |
[Mar. 14th, 2009|09:08 pm] |
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Look! I skipped the entire year of 2008! WOAH. |
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| Now, why don't she write? |
[Dec. 3rd, 2007|11:48 pm] |
Work is EATING MY SOUL. What's it been, well over a month since I've updated anything at all? And I'm sure by now everyone has forgotten who I am and why I'm here and what I stand for so I shall start by reintroducing myself all over again. My name is Sianne and I am 28 years old and I HAVE NO SOUL. I have empathy though. Oh my god, I have a fuckload of empathy. It is oozing out my ears. *incoherent cursing, shakes the jam jar that contains the last bits of her morality and sense of human dignity*
Right, so here's the story. At the end of September I got a job at Convergys. They're one of those multimillion dollar businesses that never tell you what exactly they DO when you watch their commercials, they just show a group of smiling, happy, ethnically diverse people standing around in business attire and then a voice over comes on and says "Our company. A GREAT place to work."
Well, okay, but I'd still like to know what I'm DOING. Which turns out they contract with a bunch of OTHER companies, who are subcontracted through a lot of other companies. So I'm not exactly clear on who is paying me. But as long as they keep doing it, I don't suppose I will complain. Also, I took eight weeks of insurance agent classes to get my insurance license. I am now a licensed insurance agent for this company, and I can sell policies. Worse still, it is Life and Health insurance, which are actually two different things. I have found that people really like life insurance (it pays them) and really hate health insurance (they pay us). They paid for my training, they paid for my testing, and now they're paying me extra because I have a slip of paper that says I am licensed.
But what do I DO? I sit at a desk all day and answer people's questions about their Medicare.
.........yes.
I have become one of Them. And they told me in insurance class that we would have to just sort of tough it up when it came to sob stories, because there's only so much that we can do for people and we're not allowed to bend the rules. Which I already knew, believe it or not modding y!gallery has put me in the mentality of "you break the rules for one person they're all going to want it" deal. Which had already given me a pretty tough skin. Natural empathetic tendencies towards sob stories had eroded to the point of "your mother just died? ya right okay you're still banned. Bai."
But omg you get real live people on the phone wondering how they're going to afford medication and your heart just sort of rips itself into tiny pieces. Over and over and over. So, the part of me I was trying to squish is now fully functioning again, I have noticed. I find myself saying "Awwww, you poor thing!" more times than I care to count. I have tried not to let it affect my moderating. On the other hand, there is only so much that I personally can do. Hence the soul eating part. Also they've got me on some kind of ungodly endurance test which is NOT cool. But at least I'm getting paid for the days I'm out on Jury Duty this week.....*grumblemumble*
And that's where Sianne has been. I LOVE YOU ALL. I am sorry I have not been here but maybe I will get a chance to catch it up (ha ha) or at least start replying to stuff again. |
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| Ha ha ha all corsets on hold |
[Sep. 21st, 2007|01:01 pm] |
So we had that flood, right? A lot of stuff got shifted around while stuff got moved around. In the mess of having things get moved, we had carpet people come in and clean the carpets, and then we had separate people come in and clean. I am missing all my boning supplies (over 70 flat steel bones) 4 busks, a hammer, and my good awl. (The shitty one is still here...hmm) Now I know they are not misplaced, because two bones I had that were misshappen are still here, and all my plastic mock up boning is still here, the shitty awl is still here, the rubber mallet is still here, the grommets are still here, and my scissors, which were hidden REALLY well (re: they were lost) are still here. Thank god, they were silver plated.
I was cutting out corset parts on the pingpong table and decided to finally finish putting the room back together again because I felt up to it today or god only knows how long it would have been before I noticed. Probably when I went to put bones in someone's corset. Argh argh argh, that shit is going to be expensive to replace. agsdlagisdlalhgahgjga;lkhasf ranty ranty ranty. |
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| To Define a Generation |
[Sep. 11th, 2007|08:14 pm] |
I've read many articles over the past twelve hours, and even some yesterday. I've seen many different views on 9/11. It was our fault, it wasn't our fault, it was Bush's fault, it was the FBI's fault, it was the terrorist's fault. It was a tragedy, people should get over it, we should never forget it. The war is useless and we should all go home, we can't go home because we haven't caught the terrorists yet, we must support the troops regardless of what we personally believe...all of these are views I have read, and probably I have forgotten some.
I am not sure of my feelings on the whole situation. Certainly it was a horrible thing to happen, the first large scale attack on American soil in the continental United States since the War of 1812. Certainly many people lost their lives, and many people became heros.
I think we've sort of lost that, in all the political hoopla that came in the next five years. For almost a month, we grieved, we mourned, and we supported ourselves as a nation, and the world was, for the most part, supportive. Bush had his finest moments as a president, I believe, in holding the nation together in the wake of what only comes along once a century. New York became our symbol, the Pearl Harbor of the 21st century.
Where did we go wrong?
I am not going to start talking about my political beliefs in this journal, because I don't believe it is my place to say how anyone else should believe or think or act. If I wanted to talk about what I think the country did wrong in the aftermath, this journal would become far too long and far too ranty for me to post it here. Certainly though, I do believe mistakes were made on many levels. And continue to be made. But it's not my place to preach this time, about policy. Regardless of what I think, and regardless of what others think, today is a day that for many people will be burned into memory, and it doesn't matter how many years go by, THEY will never forget. We should not use or make light of their pain. It defines our generation, just as the Kennedy assassination defined the generation of our parents, and the bombing of Pearl Harbor defined the generation of our grandparents. We could, and should, take lessons from them, they and the quiet survivors of New York.
Years from now, regardless of what happens on the other side of the world, our children and our children's children will read about 9/11 in their history books and ask us "Where were you when it happened? What do you remember?" and we must ask ourselves what we want to give to them. We have time, now, as people, to stop making ourselves victims when we have not the right. We have time as a nation to stop the international lashing out. We can also keep at it. I think this year will be one of the last years we can do that. Where we were then and where we are now will shape our future for years to come, and it is our responsibility as human beings, to step back and reflect. The great tragedies that shape our nations history should not be defined by bullying (on ANY level) under the mis-guided label of patriotism. Let those who are grieving, grieve. Let those who have moved on, continue. That is what we should be contributing to history, because we are the ones who make it.
And ask yourself what you want to say when you get asked where you were twenty, thirty, fifty years from now. We can't move on from something unless we remember it, in whatever way we choose to remember.
Where we you? What were you doing?
God bless. |
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| Farfarello? Rp? Anyone? |
[Aug. 23rd, 2007|10:38 pm] |
Looking for random person who doesn't mind chat RP to be our fourth? We has a Nagi and a Schuldig (me) and a Crawford but we need a lovable psychopath to terrorize the other folks with. Will explain in detail if anyone's interested. Must be willing to deal with newbie who is willing to learn, random scheduling, and ADD. SatiricalWhimsey on AIM if you're interested or know someone who is. Someone? Anyone?
*listens to the crickets*
Crossposted to IJ and JournalFen because I is that interested. |
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| Random Fanfiction (3) |
[Aug. 7th, 2007|07:36 am] |
This started out as a character profile, and then somehow morphed into a three part minific. I hesitate to call it a true "fanfic" because there are no canon characters in it. It's set in the WK universe. Part One. Part Two
A Family Account, by Ernest Bachmann
As told to Brad Crawford
Part Three
Delphi
As you know, Mr. Crawford, your school began to hear rumblings from the pro-occultist organization Esset by the end of the 1930's, espeically when they thought they had found their saviors in the Nazi party leaders Hitler and Himmler. Rose, being the woman she was, wanted to be right in the thick of things. She had a thirst for power, and she had always craved the limelight. She began to make ever more dire predictions, increasingly of death and blood. Her mob followers did not know what to make of this. Her warnings of a "Holocaust" scared them, to be sure, and they then gave her the name she used from that point on. Delphi, the mighty oracle of Ancient Greece.
Word reached Esset, and they sent for her in August of 1938, the year before Hitler invaded Poland. Esset was, for all I have been told, quite pleased with her. Rosenkreuz has been careful with the training of its precognitives, as I am sure you know, and the Council at the time was very leery of the blind Seer. She was by this time quite insane, I am positive. At least, I am fairly certain of it. I have heard from my contacts that insanity is harder on your Talent than it is on telepaths, no offense to your teammate. In any case, her mind had deteriorated to the point that she needed constant supervision. She had never properly learned to shield her mind from her visions, as she was not trained by your school to be an operative. Esset, of course, wanted to keep her around and in working condition for as long as possible, so they bought the services of two virtually untrained Rosenkreuz telepaths. They were to build her shields, to anchor her mind, and to hold her up.
However, something happened when they were shoring up her mind, and the three of them became tangled together. Somehow, their consciousness' twisted....and twisted badly. Content with her blindness before, she began to resent it now. The telepaths stopped speaking altogether, and went about with blank faces, tailing after her. One rarely saw Delphi without the two. Their Talents bled into each other. Some say it was as if they became a single entity. I refuse to believe that, because it would be too horrible for me to allow myself to consider such a thing. Regardless, her predictions took a bloody and violent turn, and there were.....physical consequences.
What's that? Oh. Well, I mean there were...bodies. Mostly children. It was like a jubilation offering. For example, she predicted Himmler would find evidence of Aryan civilization in Tibet and when he did, Esset reported that there were 14 children found slaughtered in the Council keep's courtyard, laid out with their hearts and eyes removed. Delphi did have an obsession with eyes... That and visions. Oh yes, she began to be absolutely obsessed with other prescients and their power. Esset was inclined to indulge her, as their orders came from none other than Hitler himself at the time. They bought a few contracts from Rosenkreuz, but the school was disinclined to send more after she drained the minds and memories of no less than twelve of their most powerful clairvoyants. She knew that visions often came to the untalented mind, and would send out her telepaths to scan the minds of the uninitiated, to break them in her quest to find the source of her power. Since Esset was on the quest for immortality even then, who were they to stop her?
Surely, she must have seen the inevitable end to it all. But you know, don't you, the problem with dealing with powerful men? They never like to be told that they are not really all that powerful after all, do they, Mr. Crawford. And I believe she was tired of running. Tired of starting over so many times. She'd started over in New York, started over in St. Louis, started over in Switzerland....why run and start over again somewhere else? It must have been easier to lie....to keep up the facade that everything was fine. After all, Hitler's advisers were doing the same thing, even though they knew the situation was hopeless. And she had her faithful telepaths to protect her. And the entire backing of Esset behind her. She was their most powerful weapon, for she was always a step ahead of the Nazis, and she was not loyal to Rosenkreuz.
And then, when the glorious Third Reich all came crashing down around their ears, she hid amongst the rubble and waited for Esset to crawl out of the ruins and rise again. She had staked her claim.
By the time my mother remarried into the Bachmann empire and I was old enough to know that my stepfather and fiancee were deep into Esset's ideals and religion, Delphi was an established and feared part of the organization, quite apart from the Elders. They feared and respected her. I do not know what Rosenkreuz thought, for I did not know of the school at that time. I was young, I was idealistic, and I was engaged to be married to a beautiful young woman. We were expecting a child, you know. This was....oh goodness, what year was Chloe born? 1974, so it was early 1973 when we came to Switzerland. I wanted my child to be a British citizen like Pamela and myself, Pamela's father insisted the child be dedicated to the cause. I met Delphi that fall, when Pamela and I were married and inducted into Esset. She was to give us a blessing. She wore a cowl...I remember she always wore a cowl, to cover her face and those terrible eye sockets of hers, to spare people from looking at them. Still, you got the impression that she was staring at you, when she turned her head in your direction. She was flanked, as always, by those silent telepaths. Their eyes were white by then, I think they were just as blind as she. Did she know I was her grandson? I don't know. I doubt it. Her mind was so twisted by madness by then that all she likely saw were two more vessels to feed her obsession.
She told the followers that my wife had lovely eyes....forgive my shudder, I can still remember it. Her hands were cold. Her smile was even colder. Esset's witch had a talent for leaving a person with a feeling of unescapable dread. And then....after Chloe was born, I managed to forget about her. We had our business, we supported the organization, we were successful. But you know as well as I that one cannot simply forget about Esset. I came home when Chloe was three, and my wife was on the floor in the living room. The police called it a cult death...they never found her eyes. But you see, I know why they were taken.
The eyes are the windows to the soul, are they not? Esset never found the key to immortality. Delphi believed she had found it in the eyes and visions of others. By stealing their visions and stealing their eyes, she robbed them of their souls. God only knows she had no soul of her own. What did she do with those eyes? I believe she ingested them. She was certainly twisted enough to. Her telepaths ripped visions from the minds of her victims, and she herself ripped out their eyes. She collected both, in the belief that it would make her immortal. Power was the only thing she craved. Certainly it made Esset more powerful.
I raised Chloe by myself after that. I made the tribute, I attended every Esset function, I made dual payment to Rosenkreuz in the hope it would keep her away from what was left of my family. And I am quite glad that she is dead. Even now that she seems to be reaching out from beyond the grave to meddle with us, I cannot allow her to menace my family any longer. Esset is destroyed, you and your teammates made sure of that. It is for the best, and I can only be thankful. For eighty years and more, Delphi has been a black stain on this earth. It will, I am sure, take time to heal. Her followers are scattered still, and that alone worries me.
The eyes....the eyes are the window to the soul. You will find my daughter, will you not? |
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| Of The Misadventures of June bugs |
[Aug. 2nd, 2007|02:16 pm] |
So. I have a new June bug. For those of you who know me, I had a June bug buddy last year by the name of Buford who would come to my window every night and buzz, trying to get in. Buford and I became quite good friends, or at least as much as is possible when one is taking part in interspecies relationships such as these. Buford was, in June bug standards, the size of a Mack truck. He was the size of my half my thumb, so his buzzing was quite loud. To tell the truth, I was a little afraid of Buford. His eyes were a little too bright, if you know what I mean. But I smeared maple syrup on my window screen and he ate it off happily and then he died when winter came around. Alas, poor Buford.
My cat was interested in Buford as well, but I imagine his level of interest only extended to how crunchy Buford might be, and if his legs would get in the way of his delicate digestive system, which doesn't handle legs (insect or arachnid) well.
I missed Buford this summer, which seemed to be light on June bugs, until last night when a new one showed up. This one was lighter in color and much smaller, about average as far as June bugs go. I have called him Wadsworth, because he looks like a Wadsworth. How do I know that this June bug is male? I don't, really. But if it was female, she would be wearing lipstick and short skirts and trying to attract the attention of all the male june bugs out there, not buzzing my window. And he does buzz quite a bit. Nights are somewhat loud, as it's cicada season. The fuckers are LOUD. I've never had one on my windowscreen though. I left Wadsworth honey and then went to bed.
This morning Wadsworth was in the windowscreen, upside down. Stupid bug. I poked the screen and tried to get him to move, but he wouldn't. Perhaps he liked hanging upside down, I wouldn't know. I shook the screen and eventually he fell off. I came back a few hours later and he was crawling up the screen again, this time in circles. Maybe he is drunk. This is just what I need, a drunk June bug.
I am thinking of renaming him Percy. Drunken June bugs should definately be called Percy.
AND NOW A PLOT BUNNY.
I'm a bit tired of writing Weiss slash. *le gasp* I dunno, I've been leaning this direction for a while. I enjoy playing it (if I could find the players) and I certainly enjoy reading quality fanfiction, but what I wouldn't give for a good het story now and again. For crying out loud, 51% of the population is female, and they are not all bishie grabbing, squealing, Aya/Schu-stealing monsters and/or Mary Sues. Just most of them. So I'm jumping off the deep end and starting a new story. Of course, that brings up two problems. One, it leaves Puzzle hanging, and two, WK as a whole has very few canon females to work with. Which leaves bringing in an OC which usually means having to deal with people screaming "SUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" at you. I don't care. I have enough experience with Sues to recognize one, arrogant as I may sound.
So, going back to Clarity of Sight. More on this bunny in next entry, as it has nothing to do with June bugs. |
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| I'M ALIVE!!!! |
[Jun. 13th, 2007|10:45 pm] |
I.....made it all the way through today. Fortunately, I live out in the middle of nowhere and most of the undead have been congregating in the cities. I have a small cache of pointy weapons, so I took them off the wall, sharpened them, and set them near the window. In retrospect, this might not have been a good idea after all, as giving zombies any sort of weapon is generally undesirable. BUT NO ZOMBIES CAME FOR ME HA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.....
Hang on, there's somebody at the door. |
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| New computer woes |
[May. 16th, 2007|06:26 pm] |
X-posted from y-gallery
I got a student loan refund waaaaaaaaay back in the beginning of April and instead of putting it in the bank or using it to do something responsible like pay off my debt or a down payment on a car, I decided I needed a new computer. The one I have now is....well, let's just say a Piece of Junk wouldn't be far off the mark. And I paid way too much for it too, but I was in a bind and beholden to the people who "fixed" my first computer. (Long story short, it got hit by lightning and they said they could fix it. When they couldn't, they gave me store credit and told me to apply it to the purchase of a new GROSSLY OVERPRICED computer) I have a budget of roughly 1000 bucks, and since I don't really NEED a new fancy monitor or keyboard, I can shove it all into the tower.
Happy Sianne.
So I started window shopping on several websites, but figured I'd go with Best Buy since 1) they were closer and 2) I don't really like Circuit City since their store is dirty and their sales staff consists mostly of apathetic zombies.
I found a couple of models that I liked (Gateway 935, HP Athlon 64 4200 or something, and the same model in 3600) Okay that's three, but still. Now, in order to GET my shiny new computer, I had to do a couple of things. I don't (or didn't) have a bank account at this time. I'd closed out my last checking account at the end of 2005, and I really didn't want to go through the hassle of opening another one. (Credit checks, ugh) so I decided I'd open a savings account. No problem, right? Open a savings account with check, get 900 cash back, leave 100 in bank to hold account.
Ha ha.
The bank apparently had never seen such a large opening check before, and said they would hold it until Wednesday, which is today. Fine with me, except that I was annoyed I could not get the shiny new computer that day. Also, they would not give me cash back. Wtf.
So, undaunted, I head to Best Buy to check out teh shinies. I figure I can make a shopping list while I'm there and ask a question of the customer service people, who have always been helpful in the past. Here's the deal: I have a wireless router on my computer. I could probably uninstall from old machine and reinstall the flippin' thing on new machine myself. I have the instructions right here, and I've installed a video card before. Granted, I blew my computer up when I did it, but that was not my fault. I INSTALLED THE CARD CORRECTLY, DAMMIT. I know where the doohickies go inside the dealiebop and which thingie to connect to the USB gizmo. I am not techno incompetent. Nevertheless, I am extremely lazy and would rather have the nice men in Geek Squad do it for me so that all I have to do is take the new machine home and plug it into the wall and be online. I meander around the store for a while, taking notes, and am approached by Blue Shirt asking if he can help.
"Yes." I says. "How much would it be to uninstall a wireless adapter from one computer and reinstall it onto a machine of my choice?"
Blue Shirt gives me a blank look. At this point Higher Ranting Blue Shirt wanders over.
"Oooh. I can help!" he says cheerfully. "If you're buying a new computer, I suggest blah blah blah blah de blah firewall blah blah blah home installation blah blah blah blah de blah diddy blah install clean your entire house blah blah blah two hundred and twenty bucks."
I gave HRBS a blank look.
"Wow. That much?" I says. He beams at me.
"You need that package to protect your computer from harmful viruses and make it run faster."
I swear to god he said that.
I wandered out of the store after saying something vague about being back on Wednesday and "we'll see." But my god, I do not need people in my house installing shit on my computer that I don't need, and plus, this is not a play date. I want my router reinstalled. I don't need anything else, I can do it myself!!!11bbq.
So, after talking with  talongodchild I came to a few conclusions.
Higher Ranking Blue Shirt was full of it.
Sales matter to Best Buy.
Reinstallation of router only costs about 40 dollars. Yup.
Because I have boobies, I must not know anything about computers.
I mean, that MUST be it. Remember way back ten paragraphs ago when I said I got a "new" computer for way too much money on store credit? Yeah, I had to fight with them there, because the model they wanted to sell me wasn't what I wanted, and I swear they more than doubled the price on me just because I insisted on installing extra RAM. It's still a piece of crap. I have no proof of that though, other than the comment "Are you sure you want that one? This one would suit your needs much better." Wtf, man? What do you know about my computer needs?
Anyway! Experiment time! I went back to Best Buy today, INTENDING to buy my computer, only I didn't, because the flippin' frackin' bank is still holding my check. Hur. (So now I'm getting it on Friday. algwikhlq!) Armed with knowledge of what a router installation really costs, I go into best buy to do some more window shopping and pick up a movie I wanted anyway. Along comes Blue Shirt, alas it wasn't the same one from Sunday.
"Hi!" damn, he's cheerful. "Can I help you?"
"Hi!" I says. "I am buying a new computer on Friday, one of these three models." and I rattle them off. "Can you please to be telling me the difference between them and if they will play any of the following without installing a separate video card?"
"Oh sure!" says he and proceeds to speechify, not that I am paying attention, because I will ask the same question again on Friday and actually pay attention this time. Hell, if I have to hold onto information for longer than 24 hours, it ceases to become relevant in decision making.
However, I am now reasonably confident that I have made myself look moderately silly, because I know that all three games I named will play without installation of card. 
"Good." I says. "I has another question. How much does it cost to uninstall a wireless router from my old machine and reinstall it onto one of those three?" I explained about the lazy bit but left out the blowing up part. Blue Shirt launched into helpful speech ending in the two hundred and twenty dollar rigmarole.
"But I don't need all that." says I. "I just need the router moved from point A to point B."
"It would really be better to do it the other way to protect your computer." says Blue Shirt, or words to that effect. "What kind of router do you have?"
"D-Link." I said. "My dad installed it." which was true.
"Well, let's ask the Geek Squad." said Blue Shirt. Fine with me. We headed over to customer service, and no Geek Squad was present. Higher Level Blue Shirt was behind the counter, not same one as before, this was older guy and had somewhat managerial air. Oh goooooodie.
"Blah blah blah blah blah blah reinstall blah blah blah firewall blah blah blah demonstration blah blah hundred and forty dollars in store." said Higher Level Blue Shirt helpfully.
"I don't need that." I said patiently. "Point A. Point B."
"Biddity biddity warrenty."
I decided that maybe there was some sort of code going on here that I wasn't aware of, so tried it myself.
"Blah blah de blah do not want?"
"Blah blah blah faster speed blippy blah blah."
"Blah blah." I was becoming annoyed. "Blah blah DWL-G510 wireless adaptor blah blah blah this machine to that machine for forty bucks."
"Oh. Sure. We can do that."
Which is what I wanted in the first place. I got Blue Shirt's name and promised to be back Friday with the old machine. Barring some emergency with the bank ("Omg there are ducks on the front lawn!! We're holding your check until Tuesday while we take photographs!!") I'm getting a nice new, shiny machine and won't have to connect the thingiebop to the whatchiedeal by myself because I'm lazy like that. Yay me.
P.S. I have boobies.
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| Weiss fanfiction (yet again) |
[May. 4th, 2007|12:38 pm] |
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Yay, using LJ as fic holder again.
Bored and taking a break. Two paragraphs is about as far as I can go before my ADD kicks in.
Moving on. Break number two. Five paragraphs is okay, I guess.
Eight paragraph cut weee
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| The Corset Diaries Part 22 |
[Apr. 27th, 2007|07:32 pm] |
Annnnnnd pictures!
 Wearer insists that corset is not too loose around the hips, that jeans are actually too tight. I shall believe her for now. Of course now I can see the small flaw I have made in the velvet ribbon on the side. *cringe*
 This was a size 10 at the top, a size 8 in the middle, and a size 10 and a half at the bottom.
 It looks a little strange, probably not pulled all the way in. But over all, Sianne is very very pleeeeeeeeased. *squee* Sianne hopes wearer is just as pleeeeeeeeased. |
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| The Bottom Line |
[Apr. 27th, 2007|01:45 pm] |
So, let's take another look at the meme and see if I can reword it into something less inflammatory that this time means what I think the author might have been trying to say, but didn't. (or did a horrible bang up job of doing so) This also comes more along the lines of what what I think. I think I can do it in twenty words or less. Obviously, before I put the disclaimer on there, some of you may have jumped to conclusions about me. Some of you may STILL. Hey, cool. I won't think outside your box for you. But this will be my last foray into social experimentation. The internets are serious bizness!!!
Ready? Here goes.
I don't call you names because I don't like to be called names.
or
I don't discriminate against you because I don't like to be discriminated against.
Someone far wiser than me put it this way: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
In a perfect world, we wouldn't need marches or clubs or special TV channels to announce our pride in ourselves and our cultural heritage. But this world isn't perfect. As long as one group feels stepped on by another and as long as we have minorities, yeah, there's going to be people squabbling against others. It's part of what makes us human, for better or for worse.
Me, I'm going to return you to your regularly scheduled programming of corset-progress and occasional random kvetching. Catch y'all on the flip side. |
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| Stop feeding the wank machine |
[Apr. 26th, 2007|06:19 pm] |
Okay, mah leetle y!gallery minions. Eet ees time for another sermon from Sianne. Just because someone extremely popular and talented posts a Waaaaaaangsty journal on the gallery woe-ing about how nobody and their dog doesn't love them, doesn't mean you have to leave them luvvin's. This is a tactic that we like to call "emo" and don't we all mock it when the lesser fodder uses it? So why is it all that different and speshul when someone higher up in our so called esteem tries it? Especially when they've gone and done it multiple times before?
Guys. Don't pander. Seriously.
In other news, I'm getting a new computer!!!!111omg. Either a Gateway 935 or a HP Pavillion 64 4200.
My Jareth action figure finally came in the mail. He has a teeny weeny little crystal ball with him. I glued it to his hand because I didn't want it to get lost. He's standing on the shelf, terrorizing the rest of my action figures. Elizabeth Swann isn't sure what to think of him. When I get my Crow action figure, they might have words. Jack Sparrow looks a little unsure of him too. Legolas is staring him down. Eowyn is trying to threaten him with a sword. Silly girl. I should add that Jareth is taller than all of them. Ha.
Ha ha. |
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| Hey look! A corset! |
[Apr. 23rd, 2007|04:17 pm] |
Yes! A finished piece! Dimensions are 33, 23, 33, so obviously, it is not for ME. And it is not the one I am not sending to kidavi, either. Oh hmm. Wowow, a mystery corset.
 Judicious blurring out of the back that showed.
 Slightly different lacing method.
Materials: Satin brocade, taffeta, black cotton, and velvet ribbon. Little bit of everything. |
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| 300 Things I Learned Roleplaying |
[Apr. 17th, 2007|11:37 am] |
1. Cannot base characters off the Who's drummer Keith Moon.
2. A one man band is not an appropriate bard instrument.
3. There is no Gnomish god of heavy artillery.
4. My 7th Sea character Boudreaux is not 'Southern' Montaigne.
5. Not allowed to blow all my skill points on 1pt professional skills.
6. Synchronized panicking is not a proper battle plan.
7. Not allowed to use psychic powers to do the dishes.
8. How to serve Dragons is not a cookbook.
9. My monk's lips must be in sync.
(Ganked from ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) tannerwolf)
Also, check these thingies out. I'm working on two new corsets. Here's the front panel of one. Second half to follow later.
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| The Corset Diaries Part Twenty One (B) |
[Apr. 13th, 2007|09:27 am] |
Review of Laughing Moon Pattern: (Ladies Victorian Underthings)
There are a few naysayers out there who say this pattern is hard to follow because nothing is marked. I didn't find it hard to follow, in fact, I was overwhelmingly gleeful at the sheer amount of instruction that came with the pattern. It was incredibly detailed and for someone as absent minded as me, the constant reminders (do this first, THEN do this....) along with the explanations as to why (or otherwise THIS will happen) were a relief. It if most obviously a professional corset/clothing pattern and not a "costume" piece. On a side note, I now have 27 different corset patterns, and can do just about anything except ribbons.
This one......god, I wish I had a camera. The thing that makes it so special was that coming off of my own Victorian Disaster, having this one work absolutely perfectly the way it was supposed to (and the FIRST TIME, no less) was a boost to my confidence. I did have to cut the pieces down, and redo a couple of seams, but meh. Par for the course. Most of the injuries were to self, as I smashed my thumb with the hammer, and put the awl through the tip of my finger. So, situation normal, me-wise.
Pics!
 Bottom of corset, showing busk and boning channels.
 Back of corset top, showing grommets and lacing and a bit of the lining. Hey look, there's a cat hair on it. Nikki LOVVVVVES to help.
Anyway. That's all there is to this one. I is teh happy. |
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| The Corset Diaries Part Twenty one (A) |
[Apr. 12th, 2007|01:18 pm] |
Really Nice Taffeta for Victorian Corset: $56
Heavy Twill for boning channels: $12
Grommets for Victorian Corset: $8
Approximate cost of die and grommet setting kit for this corset only: $1
Spending four hours prying out the one grommet that decided to go into the Really Nice Taffeta sideways after all the others had been set and you can't cut another piece because you've already sewn on the Heavy Twill boning channels and can't order any more: priceless.
..........bleeding Christ.
(I'll have pictures next time along with a better update, but my hands are cramping like mothers)
Edit: Look how stupid I've gotten while working on this:
 in case you can't read the words, it says "Mpr-egg. (with cock)" |
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