Yay, Purse!

I have a hard time shopping for purses.

Yes, I love them. If I were slightly better off financially, I'd likely get a nice Coach bag or a Dooney and Burke ever year or so. But the problem is, in the business casual world, accessories are one of the few ways a woman has to display her personality. I can't exactly wear my Starfleet Academy T-shirt to work.

In this regard, Etsy has been a godsend. I managed to get a cute Princess Leia necklace with pink lightsaber earrings that I absolutely adore wearing.

But for some reason, I've been at a loss to find a good purse that I like. There were a few retro Trek and Wars inspired ones that amused me, but that weren't quite what I was looking for. After purchasing a tokidoki unicorn figure from ThinkGeek, I ended up wandering to their website.

And lo and behold I found exactly what I wanted!

It's absolutely adorable, the wallet is insanely functional (my Droid X fits in it!) and I love the details. From little rhinestones on the tokidoki logo, to heart skull and crossbones shaped zipper pulls, it's positively awesome.

For a helpful reference, if you happen to be looking for a Coach carrying case that will fit even the Droid X, their Poppy Universal Leather Case is quite nice (although their site fails at direct linking).

Downton Abbey

I'll admit it - I'm a glutton for a good period piece. So when I saw that Felicia Day had mentioned Downton Abbey, I knew that I had to take a peek. Luckily enough, the entire 1st season was on Netflix, and I happily devoured it over a period of a few days. The TV show features the residents of Downton Abbey - both the Earl and his family, and the servants as well. In this, I was quite intrigued, for it seems like much of the time, it's the upper-class members of society that are featured in such productions. The seven episodes of season 1 encompass over 2 years of time between April 1912 and August 1914 - specifically, it begins with the sinking of the Titanic, and ends with the beginning of World War I. This prevents the show from dwelling too much on minor details, but the writers are careful to ensure that we don't feel like we missed to much in between episodes either.

It starts out in a very Pride and Prejudice sort of manner. The Earl of Gratham, Robert Crawley, has three daughters, and because of inheritance laws, none of them are able to inherit Downton. In the first episode, his heir (who was to marry the eldest of his daughters) dies tragically on the Titanic, throwing life at Downton into turmoil. Admissably, I was initially disappointed, figuring that this plot has been done time and time again. But by the conclusion of the first episode, I was already pleased with how they were handling something that could have easily become cliche. A large part of this was the acting - all of the characters from the great Earl to the mere kitchen maid were quite realistically portrayed.

As mentioned, the servants lives are just as integral to the plotline of the show as their employers are. It's fascinating seeing the differences between the two worlds, which is often starkly evident through the use of clever camera shots and editing. We see the footmen walking through the lavish family sections of the Abbey, down into the servant's quarters, which are stark and cold. We see cuts between the Earl's family having a lavish, multi-course dinner and the servants eating a simple bowl of soup.

That's not to say that you are meant to feel bad for the servants, or to feel that the aristocracy puts the Crawleys unfairly ahead. Both the Crawley family and the servants feature some characters that are worthy of empathy, and others who are more deserving of scorn. Some of the servants are proud to work for such a nice house, and to not be laboring in a factory or a farm, while others resent the cards that they've drawn in life.

The Crawley girls are dynamic characters in that I found myself split between feeling bad for them, and feeling like they'd gotten what they'd deserved. They interact in a fashion that is typical of a real family - they bicker, they disagree, and occasionally they do something to ruin one another's lives. They are complex characters in a fast changing world, who - despite their parent's best attempts to protect them - seem to have no difficulty getting themselves into bad situations.

While the movings of a rapidly evolving world impact the Crawley girls, it is their grandmother the Dowager Countess who primarily demonstrates both these evolutions, and the differences between high society and the common man. She is fearful of the electric lights that are in Downton Abbey, especially because they are in the kitchens, and she worries what it might do to her food. And when in the presence of the working class Matthew Crawley, she is confused by his use of the term "weekend" - as people who have never needed to have a job don't grasp the concept of days off.

The only major complaint that I have was that while the costumes and sets are amazing, the camera work is kind of annoying. I'm not a particularly big fan of the use of soft focus... especially not in every single shot of a series. I also think it would be nice to have a few more episodes in a season, as the 7 from season 1 left me wanting more. Hopefully, the next season will deliver.

After great success in both the UK and Australia, they have begun to film the second season, which will take place during World War I in England, and should feature the characters going through dramatic changes as a result.

On the Subject of Inspiration

First off, Hi to all the random people finding my blog because I've been retweeted by ThinkGeek and Patrick Norton.

I've been feeling rather inspired recently.

I have to admit, this is somewhat frustrating. Where was this inspiration when I was home unemployed doing nothing?

As I've mentioned before, I'm pretty active in two different Pern fandom email groups - Triad Weyrs and (my own site) 11th Pass Pern. I joined Pern fandom a little over a year ago to try and get my spelling, grammar, etc. back up to par to finish work on the aforementioned novel. I've gotten proofreaders. I've gotten feedback - good feedback - from many of them. Half of them keep hounding me for more.

The problem is, now that I'm employed and my free time has lessened, I have more and more ideas.

I'm not really "good" at prioritization.

It's no secret - I've wanted to make a short web series ever since I was in college. Studying film. Because, you know, that's what the modern film major does. Ever since YouTube became a viable source for film projects, that's what the aspiring film maker has tried to do.

It's free. No one controls you. If you make good keywords, people will inadvertently stumble onto your work.

The Guild has been one of my biggest inspirations for years now. Nerdy red headed girl playing MMOs? Yes please! And she's even a Priest! How self-reflective. Ever since I've watched it I've wanted to do something vaguely similar. Something that featured on a more snobbish crew of gamers. The seedy underworld of the MMO subculture.

The "Elitist Jerks" as they're often called.

In The Guild, the Axis of Anarchy hints at it - but we're very rarely meant to sympathize with them. In general, they are meant as the "villains" of the show. But there's so much material there!

Like the stigmas against female gamers at the upper echelon of play, and the assumption that if you're good, it's because someone helped you get gear. Or the drama that occurs when a raid leader calls out a member for their failures. And of course, the psychology behind people that will let their entire real life turn to shambles because they're "godly" in a video game. Or even the Long Distance relationships (protip: there's at least one in every raiding guild)!

But more than just MMOs, Elitists tend to have a different manner of seeing everything. Watching them Powergame at Dungeons and Dragons would be fascinating. Heck, even trips to the local watering hole are amusing (albeit, frequently extremely vulgar).

I wouldn't even necessarily want to start it as a web series - mainly because I don't know enough people who'd be willing to "act" for it. I mean, I think it's a viable short story concept as well.

The problem is, no matter how "different" it ended up being, it'd always be thought of as a "stolen" concept - because it is. And I think because of that very reason, I'd never want to do it.

I wish I had inspirations for original concepts, and not variations on current themes...

Oh well.

The Book - An Excerpt

I started writing a novel back in November of 2009. At the time, I was unemployed, had a lot of free time, and was slightly obsessed with Charlaine Harris' "Sookie Stackhouse" novels. I've attempted to regain interest in my start since then, but have found it hard to get back into it, largely because I'm not actually convinced that anyone would be interested in it. I figured I'd post the first three pages of the Preface here and see how it was received. So.... here goes.

Preface

So let’s get this straight from the very beginning. I'm not the type of girl that people look at and assume “That Delilah, she hangs out with Vampires.” Obviously, this statement hinges on you actually believing in the creatures in the first place, but let's table that skepticism for a moment. My life has always been pretty normal. I wasn't the ostracized kid who always boasted on how “different” they were from their peers, dressing in black, and listening to loud, cacophonous music. Nor was I the type to dye my hair different colors, act out to upset my parents, or spend my nights smoking weed in the basement. In fact, the most “abnormal” thing about me was that my parents raised me strictly Catholic in a neighborhood that was more or less full of Protestants. I was the type of girl that did well in classes and studied hard, but still managed to have a relatively stable group of friends. Work hard, Play hard had always been my father's motto, and I took it to heart. Even inwardly, I had never had reason to even consider that I might be different than my peers until shortly after the accident.

Truly – I should have seen the accident coming. I'd been an insomniac since High School, and it only stood to reason that at some point the lack of sleep would catch up with me. It wasn't unusual that I would occasionally grow faint, or pass out during the day – I was a college student. Living off of Ramen, caffeine pills and borrowed Adderall was the road to cum laude status, wasn't it? But of course, I kept ignoring the signs until I passed out while driving to class a few weeks before finals, my Senior year. Obviously what came next was a near disaster, as I plowed my beloved, second-hand Ford Taurus into a guard rail. I still count myself as being extremely lucky that I was the only one hurt. One moment I was trying to remember the fates of the wives of Henry VIII (divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived), and the next I was in excruciating pain, looking up at the concerned faces of my mother and elder brother.

I tried to force my lips to create words, while also trying to look at how bad the damage had been. My right arm was in a cast, and I felt as though an elephant was sitting perched on my chest. “Where am I?” I managed to squeak out, my voice sounding harsh and grating to my own ears.

“Johns Hopkins!” My mother said, her voice wrought with grief. I was puzzled. I'd been nowhere near the vicinity of that hospital, which inferred that I was most likely airlifted there. My first trip in a helicopter and I was asleep for it! I thought to myself, slightly disappointed. I then wondered what kind of narcotics the doctor's had given me to cause such an out of place thought at a time where I should be grateful to be alive.

I squinted, looking around, puzzled. My mother was wringing her hands anxiously, and worry lines crossed my brother's brow. “Dad?” I asked, trying to remember if he was in town, or if he was off talking at some convention or another. My father worked in the IT field, developing software specifically targeted at small churches. As a result, he often traveled to either show off his projects, or to visit some of the churches already utilizing the programs.

“It's men's retreat week. I've sent a message to the Priest, he should be returning later this week. I should go get the doctor; he wasn't expecting you to awaken so soon,” my mother responded. I watched as she turned, and exited the small hospital room. She still moved with the grace of a dancer, even after the birth of my brother and me. She and I shared the same short stature, and lithe build, but that was about where the similarity ended. My mother was a mousy looking brunette, with dark brown eyes and unremarkable facial features. She was the type of woman that if you saw only her face, you'd immediately think, “Yep, she's a mom.” Me on the other hand, I possessed auburn hair and clear blue eyes – obviously the result of some recessive genetics at work, family members had joked.

I gazed around the room while my mother was gone, noting that some of my friends and family had left me cards and flowers. It was then that I truly understood the gravity of the situation - I’d been at the hospital long enough for people to miss me. For some reason I felt guilty then for making everyone worry about my well being. I searched around for any sign of my cell phone, but didn’t see it anywhere. As it had been in my pocket when the accident occurred, I could only assume that it had been destroyed in the process. No cell phone meant no contact with the outside world - and would make my stay at the hospital even more boring.

My brother's scowl snapped me out of my reverie. “How long has this been happening?” He asked, curtly. His icy blue eyes glared at me with disapproval.

I shrugged without thinking, and winced at the pain it caused. “What? The black outs?” I shook my head. “I don't sleep enough, Mikey; it was bound to happen eventually.”

I hoped that his scowl was because I called him Mikey – a nickname he hated – but I assumed that it was likely because he was disappointed in me. His gaze left mine to focus on the IV that was supplying me with fluids, and I followed his gaze. In addition to the standard clear IV bag was one that had been filled with blood – AB negative# by the label. “You lost a lot of blood. You have a rare type, the hospital had to call several blood banks to track some down.” He stated absently. I had a momentary twinge of guilt. The blood drives at college had often complained of how short the local blood supply was, but I'd never donated.

“But mom used to donate, couldn't she have just tapped open a vein?” I joked.

Mikhael didn't smile. “Mom wasn't a match. Nor was I, and Dad was out of town,” He explained simply. I eyed the empty bag, feeling disconcerted. Even being college educated, there was still some part of me that got a little creeped out by the thought of somebody else's vital fluids in my body. His gaze focused on me once more. “We need to hang out more once you're out of here, little sis. I've missed you,” He said, his voice full of sincerity. There was a rather large age gap between Mikhael and myself, 7 years, but he had always tried to be there for me, especially recently. Shortly after our grandmother had passed away, back when I was 14 and he was 21, he had a phase where he had lost touch with the family for a while, and he always felt bad about abandoning me then. Grannie and I had been quite close, and her death was hard on me.

Our discussion was interrupted by the return of my mother, who brought with her the doctor, who appeared to be in his late 40s. His dark brown hair was graying, but his hazel eyes still looked like that of a young boy, curious and intelligent. “Miss Connolly, how are you feeling? You're up rather sooner than we expected.”

“I feel like I was hit by a truck,” I said, truthfully. My midsection both itched and ached horribly and I suspected that if I were to look down, I would find stitches holding me together. “How long have I been out?”

“About 48 hours.” He answered, as he produced a flashlight from his pocket and gestured for me to follow it with my eyes. “You hit your head pretty good, so you had a minor concussion. Your left arm was fractured, as were several ribs. There was some internal bleeding as well, but luckily nothing important was punctured.” He clicked off the flashlight decisively, and fixed me with a stern look. “You are very lucky that nothing more serious occurred, and that no one else was injured.” He stated. Then his hands began to probe at a bump on my scalp that I had previously not been aware of. Under pressure, however, it stung, and I winced. “I'll get you a bit more morphine,” he stated, and left momentarily. He returned with a vial and a syringe, which he injected into the IV.

My mouth was filled with a vaguely metallic taste, and although I fought valiantly, I couldn't seem to stop myself from drifting back off to sleep. The last thing I remember hearing in my semi-conscious state was the doctor explaining to my mother that while he was impressed that I had awoken so quickly, that didn't necessarily mean that I was out of danger.

~*~

Legos for Girls?

My apologies for not posting more earlier this week, but with starting the new job and with Blogspot misbehaving, I just didn't have time to worry about it that much. Also, I apologize for my blog taking a somewhat feminist bend the past couple posts, it just seems to be on my mind recently.

While looking for ways to stay awake at work until midnight, I got to perusing around the Lego website. I've adored them since I was a child, and remember vividly playing with both the "boy" themed sets, and their line of pink horse ranches for girls. Admissably, I probably didn't play with them the way the Lego pople intended. The little horse whip that came with the riders had a loop at the end so it could double over itself. I realized that the hole was the perfect size to slip over around one of the Lego guy's heads, so my girls would ride around on their horses, dragging the boys around by their necks.



Needless to say, when I was looking on their website by category, I clicked on the girls section of the website. While I wasn't necessarily looking for something girly, I remembered there was a good number of cute horse farm sets when I was a child, and I figured with all the girl geeks nowadays, there would have been a push to make more girl-friendly Legos.



Hrm... well, that's not a whole heck of a lot of different sets (for reference, Lego has about 40+ different "themes" right now). And there was only one set listed under the "Belville" set of Horse Stables! Of course, the one set there was was geared for girls around the age of 6. I remember the sets that I had as a child were fun to play with even at 10-12, and had a lot of pieces, similar to the "less girly" sets available at the time. The other sets are likewise aimed for younger girls - around the age of preschool girls.

I've seen several instances where parents have contacted Lego, and Lego has basically said that a large percentage of their sales in the US is for boys, and that due to the amount of countries/ethnicities they market to Internationally, it's not practical for them to market to absolutely every demographic in every country they're sold in.

Ok. That's fine. While I think it would be super awesome for them to have huge horse ranch sets for girls of all ages, pink robots, and pink race cars, that's just what I like. I understand that a set that's specifically geared for girls probably isn't going to have the sort of market that a "Star Wars" set would.

I decided to start searching outside of the "girls" category, to see what sets are out there that might appeal to a girl. Having a specific category for girls is kind of silly, as different children have different likes and interests. Although there will be some parents that only look at that one category, I'd like to think that most would be inclined to search the other categories as well.

For those of you who aren't "in the know" regarding Lego, they have rights to produce toys for a ton of different popular franchises - Star Wars, Pirates of the Caribbean, Indiana Jones, Prince of Persia, Cars, and Spongebob Squarepants to name just a few.

I started with the Pirates of the Caribbean playsets. Elizabeth Swann is a pretty strong female character, who becomes more and more independent as the three movies progress. I was really disappointed to see that there was only one playset featuring Elizabeth. Surely it's something cool, like celebrating how Elizabeth was a Pirate Captain in the third movie? I mean, that was pretty fricking cool, wasn't it?



Oh... well... that's a missed opportunity I guess. There's mermaids in the set for the newest movie, but the only thing that they are there for is so they can be captured by a net flinger. Ho hum.

Let's move on to Star Wars. I mean, Padme Amidala wasn't a character of Leia proportions, but she was pretty major in the first three movies. I mean, she had a cool space ship, I'm sure that warranted a set?

Oh... I guess it didn't. In fact, I looked on their site for a playset that actually included Padme and I couldn't find one. And there were only two that I saw that included Leia, the hard-to-find Tantive IV ship that Darth Vader pursued before capturing her, and the Death Star that includes like 24 different minifigs.

Their Kingdoms sets at least come with female minifigs from time to time, although some of them are milkmaids.... who you get to protect from the evil Dragon Knights! While there is a Princess minifig... she doesn't come with the Castle! It's just the King and his Knights! Where's the Princess? Oh, she is in the Prison Tower, waiting to be rescued.

Alright, alright. Medieval times weren't exactly known for being empowering to women. Let's check out Harry Potter. Hermione was a pretty empowered girl, I'm sure that there's a playset where she's making a potion or something, right? Well she doesn't get her own set, but at least she's included in a good majority of the sets. And Ron didn't get his own sets either, so I guess that's fair.

I dunno. It's alright that they don't make a bunch of pretty princess sets, but it would be really nice to see Lego step up and try to present more of the female characters in their pop culture sets in more empowering scenarios.

Oh, the Irony

In an attempt to blog a bit more regularly, I've decided to make some shorter blog posts in between the "meatier" ones. Besides, something happened at Abercrombie and Fitch the other day that made me laugh a whole lot, and required sharing.

First off, if you've never shopped at A&F, you probably don't know that they typically only hire the "prettiest" men and women, the people that embody their standard of beauty. Now I'm not going to state that this is true for everyone that works at A&F, but what I've seen at the ones that I shop at is that they generally tend to treat people a bit differently depending on how they dress. For example, if I go in there in non-name-brand clothes, they are polite, but you can tell that they think that I'm just browsing and can't actually afford what they sell. If I go in a competitor's clothing, they tend to be just a little bit icy and demeaning. It's only when I go wearing their own brand of clothing that people seem genuinely nice to me.

I ran there really quickly the other day because they were having a great sale on tees and tanks, and I just wore my Portal 2 inspired, The Cheese is a Liederkrantz shirt from shirt.woot. And something happened to me that has never before occurred at A&F - one of the employees started flirting with me! At first he was just asking if I happened to work at GameStop, but when I told him that no, I actually like video games, he became strangely interested in me.

I LOL'd.

The Issue of "Geek Chick"

The issues of who (or what) a geek chick is has been debated for several years now, but seems to be a particular hot topic for blogs and Twitter recently. I figured now would be a good time to weigh in on the subject. I'm going to try and backtrack and cover some things that other writers have mentioned in brief for my readers who might not be as savvy on the topic.

I admit, like I discussed in my previous blog, Female on Female I never really considered myself a "Geek Chick" - or to be honest, anything "special" at all - until someone told me that I was a Geek Chick. I think that my problem with the label was that there was a stereotype at the time. Geek Girls were fat, anti-social, and bathed infrequently - or at least that's what popular culture wanted me to believe.

When I was with the Geek Squad, and was presented with the opportunity to represent the company at public events, I jumped on it. Here was my chance to try and dispel the rumors, to prove that it was possible to be socially capable, well groomed, and "girly" but still to possess the better qualities of geekery. At around the same time, a lot of girls that you wouldn't traditionally call "geeks" started realizing that geek chicks were desirable to a certain segment of the population. Suddenly, girls who had seen Star Wars once as a child were branding themselves as geeks girls, and worse, women with minimal technical credentials realized they could get a job easier by marketing themselves using the diversity angle.

I was torn. Despite the fact that I knew that I knew enough, I almost felt like I was "taking advantage" of my gender - and in some cases, I surely was. I backed away from the "geek" moniker entirely, tried to make my screen names and blog names gender neutral, and avoided any content that could be viewed as feminist. I wanted to be respected purely on my abilities, opinions and skillsets, and avoid the peril of being considered an "ewhore." This was especially prevalent when I was playing WoW competitively, and any hint that you might be female would be used against you. Some guilds wouldn't entertain my applications at all, because they'd been played by women who traded nude pics for achievements and items in the game. I avoided telling my gender on guild apps, and avoided vent interviews if at all possible, not letting them know that I was female until I had proven myself in game. I sat idly at work while the "cute" girl in the low cut tops and mini-skirts became the boss's favorite, figuring that eventually I'd be recognized for my talent and ability.

Since then, I've obviously switched back to my old screen name, "thatgeekchick." It's one that I've used on an off since 2006, and it's one that I feel truly represents me as a person. I think that as a geek, and as a woman, I've had to come to terms with a few things in life.

1. You can't pretend to be someone you're not: This works both ways. My attempts to "mainstream" and pretend not to be a geek were often quickly found out. I'd dress in designer clothes, spend all my my time talking about how "wasted" I got last night, and how hot the guys at work were. But inevitably, I'd quote an obscure Star Wars line, or when one of th guys talked about how cool he thought Scully was, I'd say "Wow, she was my IDOL as a child!"

As I said, this works both ways. "Poseur" geek girls will generally quickly be rooted out. The girl that gets by on looks and charm alone will be revealed, and will be gone. And if she isn't... well perhaps the problem isn't HER so much as it's the work/social environment. Any job/social group that can be fooled that easily probably isn't worth being part of. Eventually, the game will get old, or someone will get tired of it.

2. Well... actually... you can pretend: This almost directly contradicts what I just said, but it's an important tangent. When I was in Catholic School, I once asked a religion teacher how I could "become" a good Catholic if I didn't believe. her answer? "Pretend until you believe.*" There are girls out there that want to capitalize on the geek chick phenomenon. There are also girls out there who weren't raised to be geeks, and who really, genuinely want a part of this culture. Perhaps their boyfriend is a gamer, or they've grown sick of hanging out with girls that just want to gossip about boys and clothes all the time. If a girl really wants to be part of the scene, and is playing the part, it's possible (and hopefully LIKELY) that at some point, she will have genuine geek cred.

Remember - the key aspect of geekhood that separates us from non-geeks is passion! Just because someone wasn't raised geek doesn't mean it's too late to convert! Perhaps you can be the lovely lady who guides the neophyte into more genuine geeky pastures?

*Passion is necessary in this endeavor. No matter how hard I pretended to be Catholic, it never really caught on with me, because it wasn't in my heart.

3. You don't have to give up girlyness to be a geek: One of the great things about being a geek chick is the fact that we can sort of choose which facets of "girl" and "geek" appeal to us. For many years, I assumed that "geek" meant that I had to wear baggy, nerdy clothes, eschew makeup, and avoid pink at all costs. In more recent years, I've realized that I enjoy the freedom - I can wear geeky tee shirts one day, pink frilly dresses the next. I can make geek clothing fashionable through the use of trendy accessories, and I can make designer clothes geeky by using geeky accessories. The only problem with this is that it can make it hard to pack for trips, or to budget one's finances. Do I pack two laptops and a hair dryer, or one laptop with my dryer and straightener?

4. We as human beings seek to classify things: It's normal to label, to assume, and to stereotype. It's just how we as human beings manage a huge volume of information. There's nothing wrong with embracing a label. There's definitely nothing wrong with defying others to expand their pre-existing beliefs by presenting them with something they haven't seen before.

5. There are ups and downs to every classification: Anything that can get you ahead in life can hold you back as well. I no longer feel bad listing myself as a diversity candidate for tech positions because there are some opportunities that won't become available to me because of my femininity. Like after I watched SeaQuest DSV, I fell in love with their Chief Engineer Katherine Hitchcock. I was so disappointed when I realized that naval submariners generally speaking can't be female :-( When I wanted to be an inhome agent for the Geek Squad, a lot of managers didn't want top "jeopardize" a young female by sending her into strangers homes. For every time I've "gotten something" because I was a girl, there was an opportunity that I missed because I was a girl.

6. That said, it's a thin line to tread...: It's one thing to embrace your femininity. But there's a thin line between embracing that what makes us unique, and... well.... whoring out. While whoring out nearly always works in the short time, it generally fails in the long term. Too often, you become a victim. Also, this is one of the quicker ways that I have seen to alienate other geek girls.

7. First and foremost, we are fighters!: Life is rarely easy on geek chicks. A lot of us are very possessive of our "geek girl" culture, and will fight if we disagree with something. As a whole, culture doesn't really know what to do with us, and the teenaged years were hard on many of us. Don't be surprised if we get defensive if we feel threatened, and if we immediately start to fight dirty. It's one thing we excel at.

I think that was the large majority of my thoughts on this matter. I'd like to think that I'm not your typical, die hard feminist, and that my viewpoints on the matter are pretty moderate.

Sculpey

Around the middle of last year, when I became obsessed with Angry Birds, I got it in my head that I wanted little polymer clay birds. I kept meaning to pick up the clay, but then forgetting, and eventually forgot the idea entirely. Aaron got me some Sculpey for Christmas though, and once more I meant to actually use it, but forgot. Sculpey is neat stuff. Since it's a Polymer Clay, it doesn't dry, which is good for when I ADD off and forget it on the table for a few hours.

Fast forward to a few days ago, when I decided that if I'm going to be awake until 5/6am every night that I was going to do something somewhat productive with my time. So at 3am, I decided to put together a quick turtle. Turtles are simple. Shell, 4 legs, head, tail. How hard could it be...

I couldn't get the shell to look like... well... anything but a potato, and one of his feet got injured in transit to the oven. Refusing to get deterred, I quickly whipped up a quick snail. No legs to break, and a simple shell! That'll be easy, right?

Again, cute. But this one still looks like it was made by a child as well. A bit more dawdling resulted in a ladybug, which was actually pretty good for my fledgling efforts, and inspired me to try and learn more!




At this point I did some research, and learned that Rubbing Alcohol worked really well for smoothing the clay out. And lo and behold, The things I made started looking somewhat better!

I was playing around with brown clay to see what I could do using the new techniques that I'd learned, and it started resembling a bunny. So that's what this critter ended up becoming! Once I started being able to make the clay things resemble what they looked like in my head, I continued on to make the nerdy things I'd aspired to when I was getting started.

First, of course, was the Angry Bird.


He was lopsided, but he actually strongly resembled what I expected him to!

Next came the Jigglypuff.


Hrm. Jigglypuff had some issues with scale. So I decided to do a quick, easy pick me up before attempting the big daddy, and came up with this guy.


Satisfied that I was ready to tackle the lord of all Sculpey figures, I started! And here he is, Chibi Cthulu!


Isn't he just the CUTEST little Chaos Lord?

Next week: Tackling the art of taking pictures of small things....

May Day 2011 at the White House

One of my fondest memories from when I was a child was going to the airport. When I was little, my father traveled a lot, and I remember that often times he would come home somewhat later in the evening, sometimes past my bedtime. Mom would bundle me up, we'd go to BWI, and get to the security counter. Sometimes I would bring a stuffed animal, and I'd giggle as it went through the X-ray machine, and I got to see it's insides on the screen. We would head to the gate, watch the plane approach, and wait in the seats until my father got off his plane.

9/11 occurred two days before my 18th birthday. I remember my initial worry - would I have to go to work that day? I was so innocent. It never occurred to me that work would be canceled - initially more because they were afraid of having us in a large building, and to keep traffic off of one of the straight roads that could be used as an emergency landing strip for BWI - than because of grief over what had happened. We couldn't process it. We didn't know how we were supposed to respond, the images on the screen seemed surreal. They were scenes that I'd seen before hundreds of times... but in fiction movies and video games. My brain wasn't equipped to handle something that big.

As the day passed the scope of things started to hit me. My father was working near DC when the plane hit the Pentagon. I honestly don't recall how long it took him to get home that day, but I remember being worried. The TV announcers started using a word that I had only heard before in History class. Draft. Obviously we were going to war. But would they make service mandatory? And in this day where inequality is regarded as a tremendous sin, would women have to be drafted? Would my friends have to go off to war? Fortunately, I'd graduated High School that May, and I didn't have to deal with trying to go to school with all that going through my head.

I don't honestly remember my 18th birthday that well, or rather, I don't remember anything good or happy about it. I remember trying to go down to Crystal City for a convention, and how packed the roads were. A trip that should have been 2 hours even with the heaviest DC traffic possible ended up taking 3 and a half hours.

I am a product of the last generation who will clearly remember what life was like before 9/11. It was something that didn't really occur to me until last night, when I saw myriad people in their early 20s at the White House. They were perhaps 10 years old when it happened. They don't have strong memories of what it was like before America responded to terror. They don't remember picking up their father at the airport gate, and chances are, they will never experience anything like that for the rest of their lives.

My decision to go to the White House last night for the celebration after Osama bin Laden's death was criticized by some of my friends. They asked, "How could you join a crowd cheering for someone's death? It's never right to cheer someone's death." I didn't go because I wanted to cheer about Osama being dead. Regardless of what anyone's personal feelings are about the war, terrorism, or Osama... his death will go down in history. In 20 years, when we reflect on last night, we will discuss where we were, and I couldn't live with myself if I said, "I was 30 miles away from the White House watching it on TV." And after attending, I think that people who criticize others for "cheering over the death of another" have an overly simplified view of the situation.

Yes. There were people in the crowd screaming, "Fuck Osama," but they were a small minority. For every person screaming that, there were 10 others saying "Bring our Troops home," "God Bless the USA" and "We Remember 9/11." There were widows of 9/11, who finally get to feel some sort of completion over the loss of their husbands. There were families of men killed in combat who finally believe that perhaps their deaths had some justification.

The aura in the air was tangible. It was hopeful, proud, and patriotic. It was one of the few crowds that I've ever been in where people talked openly to strangers, and where people walked around the Downtown DC area at 2am without fear. Whether legitimate or not, people felt safe, for the first time in 10 years. Yes, bin Laden was not the only terrorist in the world, and we're not truly safe. But for one night, we were able to forget about that, embrace what it meant to be in the US, and pretend that maybe things weren't quite so bad.

The crowd was loud, alive. People spontaneously broke into the Pledge of Allegiance, and the Star Spangled Banner, without getting involved in a debate over whether it was truly Constitutional to say "Under God." The meters in DC weren't being checked, because there were things more important to this evening than parking tickets. People hung out of the windows of their car with patriotic songs blaring, waving flags, and screaming USA. If this occurred for any reason other than the death of a human being, not a single person would be able to speak foul of it.

The only thing that made me sad last night is that we only come together as patriotic Americans when something bad happens. When someone dies, or when there is a great disaster. It seems the rest of the time, we're too busy focusing on our differences, whining about public policy, and cowering in fear to remember that we do have it better than so many other countries in the world.

And that is what makes me sad.

Sodastream

While I was driving to Chick-fil-A for breakfast the other day, I was listening to the Jack Diamond Morning Show when I heard an advertisement for the Sodastream. Immediately, I was interested. I love soda. I hate the fact that everything at the grocery store for the most part has High Fructose Corn Syrup or Aspartame in it. It's not so much that I buy into the hype about those sugar substitutes being bad for you, but moreso that whenever I ingest either with any large quantity, I tend to feel like crap.

So I looked into and noticed that all of their syrups were free of HFCS and Aspartame, and instead used Sugar and/or Splenda. Furthermore, their line of Naturals, which releases in May, has no artificial sugars, colors or flavors at all. That piqued my interest considerably more.

I began reading reviews, and noticed a few things. First, the ever present people who vote 1 on a product for dumb reasons. Second, people that commented that there was Aspartame and High Fructose Corn Syrup in the mixes, when there wasn't (perhaps the recipe has changed? Still, not valid complaints). Third, people were complaining that they were having difficulty swapping out the Carbonator because it is a proprietary design. Lastly, people complained that they didn't like the syrups that Sodastream had available.

The third concern was enough to give me pause. If I fell in love with the thing, and couldn't get syrups for it, I would be tremendously disappointed in the long run. So I tabled the thought - at least for now - and headed off to Bed Bath and Beyond, not intending to pick it up until the reviews for it were more consistent.

I came across the Sodastream endcap at Bed Bath and Beyond, and noticed that they had a sign there regarding the Carbonator. Apparently, BB&B offers a swap service on the Carbonators, so I wouldn't need to send them off to Sodastream like some people had complained. Realizing that this wouldn't hinder me, and that we had a 20% off coupon, I decided to take a gamble on whether or not I liked the flavors.

We rushed to get it all assembled so we could try it out when we got home, and I learned a few things that I didn't realize before about it. First, I guess I assumed it needed to be plugged in to work, but it actually doesn't, the Carbonator does everything. Second, it doesn't require cleaning, as all it does is make carbonated water - you add the syrup to the water bottle. Third, because of this, you can control the amount of fizz and syrup in every bottle. I intend on trying it out with the MiO Water Enhancer, and Crystal Light Pure Flavors that I typically use to make water more palatable. Of course, it's also good for making Selzer water for those alcoholic beverages too!

All in all, my only real complaint is that the bottles that come with it are not dishwasher safe, which is a bit inconvenient. I understand that there are glass bottles available that are, but I didn't see them at the BB&B. But when I got it, I assumed it would be a lot more "work" to make soda than it actually was, and that the machine would need to be cleaned between uses as well, so all in all, I am pretty darned happy.